A/N: This little ficlet was inspired by the Japanese taiga drama "Yae no Sakura". I tried to describe Tokio's feelings in the aftermath of the war. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.
Burning cold
by Sidi
Tonami.
A new home.
A new beginning.
And yet...
The blinding whiteness of the snow, country covered in its brilliant softness, was in stark contrast to their lives filled with continuous hardship. How could they start anew when they were branded, condemned even by all, but foremost by Satsuma and Choshu.
Brought down to their knees, that they were.
And the snow is falling relentlessly, snowflake after snowflake - sure of its course - as it had been falling before the mountains rose from the sea, as it will fall after they all starve to death. She took a sip of the lukewarm tea. Bitter, how bitter it tasted in her mouth. But they knew it, Aizu people knew it and yet the scattered clansmen joined their chief administrative Yamakawa san in the exile to the north edge of Honshu.
Looking up at the heavy sky, Tokio shivered. Another snowstorm was beginning to unleash its power upon the village and they were almost out of resources. She dared not to lament, not in front of the others, never in front of the others. So she said nothing as the discussion turned once again to finding sustenance and how to provide for the village.
Provisions… it is always about the provisions. The hunger burned in her - low, everlasting, never changing, there.
This was a death sentence after all. The new government had relocated them here, lowered their stipend to almost nothing and let them rot in this eternally frozen wasteland. So much dishonour. And it was so hard not to wallow in the despair and try to live - even feebly as it was.
A loud thud rattled the door. Then again. Stumbling inside to the front antechamber, they fell to the ground, two huddled figures that dragged themselves through the white blight.
"I found her unconscious in the snow." the man untied his straw covering, his voice raspy from the long hours in the cold.
The woman tried to get up, her hat fell to the floor with a loud thud, snow splatting around her.
"Yuki san?" She hadn't seen her since they had boarded the ships.
"Onee sama," a thin whine.
"Oh thank goodness you are alive," her own voice shook.
"Tokio onee sama..." weak, Yuki called to her still breathless. The poor woman was exhausted, barely holding herself up.
"You must be freezing. Come." Tokio helped her up, letting her to sit near the hearth.
In the main room, Yuki stretched her hands above the low burning embers. White and cold fingers shook, too thin, skin stretched over the bone. Tokio couldn't turn her gaze from them. Too thin, too white, too cold empty hands.
She pressed a bowl with washy, hot soup into them, and Yuki ate, hungrily, not-ashamed of her lack of manners.
"Where do you live? What are you doing here?" Tokio couldn't contain her astonishment at seeing Yuki here.
"In Noheji. I came for charity food," she whispered between mouthfuls into the growing silence.
For what else would she travel in such a weather. Unbidden thought and Tokio's cheeks were dusted with a pink flush. She should be more considerate.
"You walked in the snow?" It turned out more as a question than a statement.
"I am sorry." the younger woman whispered even softer, her shoulders sagging. Tokio hesitantly laid a hand on her back rubbing, as she hopped, in soothing circles.
So the Government wants to turn them to beasts, shivering, snivelling, hiding in corners. No, she would not succumb to the weather, to this region's influence, to the bitterness that lingered in the air. She would not. Her other hand, so far lying motionless in her lap like a resting bird, balled into a fist, grasping the rough material of her kimono. She was a daughter of the Aizu samurai, even if other women had forgotten their upbringing, she would not. And Tokio held herself a little bit straighter, as Yuki quivered finishing her soup.
"Thank you very much!" Yuki's urgent, grateful words roused Tokio from her musings. The younger woman was half bowing to the wide shoulders of the man, who brought her here. "Without your help, I wouldn't be able to see Tokio onee sama."
The man's head bowed in acknowledging gesture. It seemed, the younger woman's gratitude was an unexpected gesture; clearly, he dismissed her from the moment Tokio had attended to her.
"Is he your relative?"
Her eyes focused back on Yuki. She looked distressed, so Tokio rubbed her back even more purposefully. "He is Saito san with the Shinsengumi."
Saito's head jerked. "Oi!"
"Shinsengumi?" Yuki shrieked in high pitched voice that broke, jerking away from Tokio. Eyes like frightened animal darted between her and her saviour.
"Shinsengumi?" Now she whispered in a lower urgent tone, shrinking away from the man, even though he hadn't made any attempt to move. "Why? I heard the Shinsengumi was a group of killers."
"Yuki san…" suddenly Tokio felt indignant.
"I heard Choshu hate the Aizu deeply because… because the Shinsengumi went overboard and not only at the Ikedaya. They put us in this predicament."
"That's not true! They staked their lives for Aizu. They fought with us to the very end."
"But…"
She wanted to slap that trembling mouth to wake the woman from her delusions.
"That's the Truth. Even now…"
"Say no more." Saito barked at her - harsh. His back straight, shoulders squared, ready for what, Tokio was not sure. She shivered, unexpectedly cold.
"Who would have thought life would be worse after the war." Yuki wailed into the following silence and hurled herself at Tokio with heavy sobs, her head on the older woman's shoulder.
They put us in this predicament? Oh the naive, trusting Aizu people needed someone to blame and found their sacrificial lamb in the ones, who had forfeit as much as them; even more as their only fault was of not belonging. Katamori sama may have granted them the name of Shinsengumi, praised them, believed in them, elevated them to same status as his own men, but in the eyes of Aizu people they would be still the rabbit Wolves of Mibu. Bloodthirsty, savage, untamable. The Shinsengumi.
The cold seeped deeper into her bones, her eyes burned. Yuki still cried on her shoulder in unmanageable sobs, so indignant or not Tokio resumed her soothing circles on her back.
In the end, this was the demise of Aizu clan. Here they will repent their loyalty, their nature, their mistakes and weaknesses, their strength. Someone had to. For the new government, for people, for Japan and its future. She would not cry…
Tokio looked up, over Yuki's shoulder and eyes like wolfs locked her for an involuntary moment in fierce golden embers. Later, she wouldn't be able to explain what passed between them, she would have no words, even if she tried. Was it understanding? Something more?
And the cold suddenly burned.
The end.