Title: Echo
Author: monitorscreen
Fandom: Peace Maker Kurogane
Character: Yamanami Keisuke
Rating: G
Word count: 891 (307 quoted from poem)
Disclaimer: Peace Maker Kurogane is the creation of Kurono Nanae, not mine.
Summary: There were so many insights to current affairs offered in these arts.
Author's notes: Fic #13 for LJ comm Ficlets on Demand's Fic a Day June Challenge. Request: Incorporate a Chinese poem by xelloss-poo. Quoted poem Song of the Wagons by Du Fu.
Echo
by monitor screen
-o-
Besides calculation, Yamanami Keisuke also enjoyed studying ancient Chinese poems. There were so many insights to current affairs offered in these arts from a distant nation and of ages past, that led him to wonder if human nature was really so monochromatic, their actions so repetitive.
Like waging wars.
The wagons rumble and roll, the horses whinny and neigh,
The conscripts walk with bows and arrows at their waists.
The Shinsengumi was preparing to raid the city for the Choshu antagonists. Even in the secured compound, belligerent spirits were rising high. Yamanami could only feel weary, of all the bloodsheds, all the conflicts. Was there really a point to the killings?
Parents, wives and children run to see them off,
The dust that's stirred up even hides the Xianyang bridge.
They pull clothes weeping, stamp their feet and bar the way,
The weeping voices rise straight up and strike the clouds.
Both sides of this battle claimed to be righteous; it was impossible to tell which might be more so than the other. The Choshu samurai were simply looking out for their domain's interests - what made them any different from the Shinsengumi? What made them the evil ones?
A passer-by at the roadside asks a conscript why,
The conscript answers only that drafting happens often.
Hijikata said it was their duty to obey orders; that the reason behind did not concern them. But honestly, without a proper reason, was it still worth to fight, to kill, to lay down their lives for?
"At fifteen, many were sent north to guard the river,
Then at forty sent to till fields in the west.
When we went away, the elders bound our heads,
Returning with heads white, we're sent off to the frontier.
Yamanami remembered the vibrant young man Hijikata had once been; he saw daily the grave, severe fukuchou he had become. Kondo, Okita, they had all poured their youth and passion into becoming a part of the Shinsengumi. But what for? They aimed to keep peace, yet they were the ones doing the killings, starting the feuds. It was an endless cycle.
"At the border posts, shed blood becomes a sea,
There is no limit to the martial emperor's greed.
It was not right to have men die for power struggles. Yamanami understood the need to nip disaster in the bud; yet how could one be sure it was really the disaster destroyed? How could one know the dead deserved it? What about their families? Did they deserve it too?
"Have you not seen the two hundred districts east of the mountains,
Where thorns and brambles grow in countless villages and hamlets?
Although there are strong women to grasp the hoe and the plough,
They grow some crops, but there's no order in the fields.
Perhaps a samurai consented to the terms when he pledged his loyalty to his corresponding faction. But looking at young soldiers like Ichimura, Yamanami doubted how many of them truly knew what they were in for when they made the pledge. To be a samurai took more than heroic swordfights.
"What's more, we soldiers of Qin withstand the bitterest fighting,
We're always driven onwards just like dogs and chickens.
Some said that in combats, the one with superior skills gained the gift of life. There were days when Yamanami would rather he had not, not this way of living. To live was to face more combats, to win to take more lives. That was not a gift.
"Although an elder can ask me this,
How can a soldier dare to complain?
Still, a true Shinsengumi member would fight on. Yamanami was aware he had already crossed the line pretending to be sick tonight, that he had let down trusting comrades. But above all, Yamanami could not betray himself. Hiding was the only thing he could do.
"Even in this winter time,
Soldiers from west of the pass keep moving.
The magistrate is eager for taxes,
But how can we afford to pay?
It was not that Yamanami did not feel guilty for the act; the Shinsengumi was spread thin as it was. He had to do it, though; he knew he would only be a hindrance with his hesitation. Yamanami no longer possessed the spirit to raise his blade. The others did not need another corpse on their side.
"We know now having boys is bad,
While having girls is for the best;
Our girls can still be married to the neighbours,
Our sons are merely buried amid the grass.
Any of them might die any day; there was no helping it. Sometimes Yamanami feared for Saya - the girl was so young, so innocent, it would be awful to have her heart broken. Yet Ichimura had such a fierce spirit, always jumping into fights...
"Have you not seen on the border of Qinghai,
The ancient bleached bones no man's gathered in?
These battles were too harsh for a boy new with his katana. Yamanami was glad that Ichimura was not going tonight, even if it might not be the boy's true wish.
"The new ghosts are angered by injustice, the old ghosts weep,
Moistening rain falls from dark heaven on the voices' screeching."
Listening to the Shinsengumi set out, Yamanami wondered how many of them could make it back safe and sound, if any.
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