DISCLAIMER: All characters, places and situations in this piece of fiction would not be in existence without the genius of Watsuki Nobuhiro. There is no money being made from this piece of imagination
SPOILERS: Major spoilers for the 'Remembrance Arc' – Volume's 19-21.
SYNOPSIS: In the turbulence of the Bakumatsu, a young girl seeks to destroy Choshu's most dangerous assassin.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The events in this story, and the characters, (particularly Kenshin) are based on the information given in the manga only, not the OVA's or anime.
Thank you again to "The Wandering Pen" for your insight...and your time reviewing my work.
The Assassin
Prologue
'Are you like the painting of a sorrow,
A face without a heart?'
-William Shakespeare; Hamlet (Act 4, Scene 7)
Bunkyū 3 (1863), Spring
Edo
The sun beat down heavily on the crowded street, augmenting the pungent aromas of the marketplace. It was midafternoon and there was not a shadow to be cast as children ran tirelessly through the streets. The smell of slowly decaying fish and rotting fruit mingled unpleasantly with the sour scent of human sweat and something else that seemed to be carried into the city by the wind.
Edo had never been the same since the summer the Black ships had arrived at Uraga bay. Steel ships, taller than houses, cast their large, ominous shadows over the city creating panic. Commoners, rich and poor alike, sought protection behind the Bakufu's sword only to see it fall limp at the sight of the steel emerging in the hands of the foreigners. It was not long before their faith in samurai strength had begun to dwindle and the instinct to survive had driven men, women and children alike into looting and killings, filling the streets with a heady mix of fire and blood.
It was as though the end of the world had come.
And for Yukishiro Tomoe it had.
On that hot summer day, amidst the fear and chaos, Tomoe stood quietly inside the smallest tatami room of her home, with a crying babe in her arms. In front of her, her mother's still body lay sprawled across the bedding.
She had not moved for hours. An eternal winter gripped her heart.
She hadn't even shed a tear.
A hard bump to her shoulder jostled Tomoe from her dark memories. She pitched forward, to regain her balance and scowled in the direction of the passer-by who had walked hurriedly past her without so much as an apology and began to weave through the narrow market streets. There were so many people on the street. Too many people. The last time she had seen a crowd this large gather so close to Edo castle it had been to celebrate the failed assassination attempt of the Shogun's right hand man, the new tairo, Ando Nobumasa.
Clutching at a small silk bag filled with coins, Tomoe pushed through the unusually large crowd gathered in front of a fruit stall stacked high with Satsuma oranges. It had become a treasured custom for her to pass by this stall each time she went to the market; the fresh scent reminded her of her mother and her fondness for the fruit.
'Uncle Taro should start charging you for standing here.'
Tomoe tensed, startled.
'It's alright.' A short, plump girl with her hair tied in two buns atop her head had somehow managed to insinuate herself next to Tomoe. 'It's just me.'
The crowd heaved pushing both the girls further into the stall, toppling some oranges onto the floor.
'Okichi!'
'Sorry, Aunty Miko,' the plump girl blushed. Okichi grabbed Tomoe's wrist tugging her towards the back of the modest stall, her face was flushed with excitement. Tomoe followed, pleased to be brought out of her confining position amongst the crowd, but feeling slightly affronted at having been treated so unceremoniously, by a woman who until only three weeks ago was nothing more than a merchant's daughter. Tomoe smoothed her kimono as Okichi squirmed with excitement.
'It's wonderful isn't it?' Okichi whispered gleefully. Tomoe blinked, befuddled. 'They had said the shogun had lost his strength! That the samurai had shown the foreigners Japan was weak; but they are defeated, they are wrong!'
'They?'
'Chōshū Ishin shi shi! Patriots!' she spat with distaste. Tomoe peered over Okichi's shoulder noticing for the first time that the crowd appeared to be anticipating something coming from the silk quarter. Tomoe had heard rumours about the violent murders of statesmen in the capital. The killings had seemed so far away, yet she had noticed how shaken officials here in Edo were about the news.
'So called patriots!' Okichi muttered. Tomoe resisted the urge to close her eyes in pain and prayed that Okichi wouldn't begin one of her memorized rhetorics on the legitimacy of shogunal power.
As the daughter of a merchant, Okichi had never cared for 'men's talk' until her recent marriage to Sato Jinzaburo; the fourth son of the Sendai Damiyo only three weeks ago. Okichi's family had been thrilled of course, it didn't even matter to them that Okichi was chosen only because of their family's ability to fill Sendai Damiyo's empty coffers. The honour of being made samurai was too great to feel any sting of insult.
Since then, Okichi had thrown herself wholeheartedly into her new role insisting that her vocal support of the government was integral to her husband's reputation and standing with the Tokugawa.
'The emperor supports the shogun; Sato tells me that the shogun's men have these 'patriots' cornered, it'll only be a matter of time before they are defeated.'
'So why are more soldiers being sent to Kyoto?'
The condescending look on Okichi's face made Tomoe regret her words instantly.
'It's not for you to think about these things,' she said disapprovingly and Tomoe bristled inwardly at being taught samurai etiquette by a merchant's daughter. 'Our place is to help our men achieve their goals, that they may keep us safe and our society in order.' She folded her arms across her chest. 'Perhaps if you had kept that in mind Sato would not have retracted his proposal from you and asked for my hand instead.'
Tomoe bit the inside of her cheek, and swallowed the smart reply that threatened to spill from her lips. She should have known that any question over the shogunate's judgement would earn her a scathing reply and Okichi knew Tomoe burned each time she mentioned Sato's proposal, yet she never knew the full truth of it.
'Here they come!' Okichi said excitedly, quickly forgetting their distasteful conversation in favour of pulling Tomoe out of her thoughts and back into the melee and earning them both another reproachful glare from Aunt Miko. 'Look!'
Tomoe followed Okichi's finger. A procession was coming down the street slowly, four samurai attendants dressed in full regalia, marching behind two eta, holding a wooden board with a large rotting head mounted upon it. It reeked of decaying flesh and cheap perfume.
Tomoe's stomach turned.
'Doesn't he look wonderful!'
Tomoe followed Okichi's line of sight and suppressed the urge to shake her head. Sato Jinzaburo marched proudly beside his comrades, his chest puffed out in front of him, his face, while set in a mask of solemnity could not hide the glee he felt at the attention being thrown in his direction. There was no question that he enjoyed feeling superior. It was one of the reasons Tomoe refused his proposal a year ago.
Of course he had been humiliated. She half-expected him to cut her down because of it. But what he had done was far worse. Tales of her arrogance and coldness began to circulate within their small community, until almost every man, woman and child regarded her with silent contempt and Tomoe despaired that she would never find a husband.
'I didn't know Sato-san went to Kyoto.' she commented watching them make their way slowly down the street.
'Oh he didn't,' Okichi said her voice still bright despite the macabre scene before them. 'He was just asked to take part in the ceremony.'
Figures.
'Who is that?' Tomoe asked taking her eyes off Sato and turning her attention to the two eta who were several paces ahead of the most decorated of the samurai escorts, her eyes transfixed on the gnarled, greying, unpleasant thing making its way down the street nailed to the board.
'That, is recently promoted Captain Kiyosato Akebo of Mito province' Okichi beamed, clearly proud of her knowledge of the goings on in the upper echelons of samurai power.
As though he had heard her, one of the attendants turned to look at them both. Okichi blushed and waved back at him shyly. Tomoe bristled inwardly wondering not for the first time how Okichi, despite her plain appearance and her lack of status and social graces had such a large following of men.
'That was his younger brother, Kiyosato Akira ' she giggled delightedly, her eyes still on the procession 'You remember him don't you? We used play with him when we were children until their damiyo requested his father's presence at their home prefecture.'
'I meant the head, Okichi-chan,' Tomoe replied dryly.
Okichi blinked.
'Oh!' she said laughing, a repulsive grating sound which identified her poor breeding. 'Oh Tomoe-chan! No wonder you're not yet married! Your eye goes straight to the disgusting shrivelled up head!'
Tomoe frowned. She was sure that was not the only reason she was unmarried. She determinedly stopped her eyes from burning holes into Sato Jinzaburo's flesh, focusing instead on the procession and feeling a set of eyes settle on her briefly.
Kiyosato Akira.
His head turned towards her as though she had called his name. He smiled at her and she stared at him, stricken.
'It's a Chōshū assassin.' Okichi said, unaware of the short, silent exchange between the two 'He was involved in the attack of those foreign ships last year. Kiyosato Akebo-sama killed the assassin in Kyoto when he tried to penetrate Nijo Castle, the assassin's sword broke.'
'Really?'
'That's what I'm told,' she said disinterestedly, 'What does it matter what he did anyway?' she added in exasperation. 'He was on their side and now he's dead. You should focus your attention on a man who's alive. Like Kiyosato Akira.' Okichi pointed to the samurai attendant. 'You remember him don't you?'
Tomoe frowned.
'I don't,' she confessed then turned away from the procession. Okichi grabbed her wrist.
'You should come to the presentation,' she whispered harshly. 'Maybe after, I could introduce you to him.'
Tomoe pulled her arm away from Okichi and rubbed her wrist.
'I have to finish the shopping,' she replied irritably. The last thing she needed was Sato Jinzaburo's wife playing matchmaker with her. However Okichi appeared to be just as insistent and she moved in front of her blocking her path.
'You're almost eighteen.' The words struck a deep seated chord of insecurity within Tomoe. She froze.
'How long will you let your pride stand in the way of your happiness? ' Okichi sighed 'Tomoe-chan I'm not saying this to hurt you. You know what people are saying about you don't you? You need to open your heart, Tomoe. The world is becoming darker, and we are needed to give our men hope and happiness.' She paused and let go of her hand. 'But if all you can offer is cold indifference...'