Legends
Chapter One: The Nail
1878 was a year of great change for my country, my town and most of all, it was a year of great change for me. That was the year I met and subsequently grew to love Kamiya Kaoru. Even before we met, she had distantly fascinated me. The stories about her, the whispered rumors of her scandalous exploits…they all excited in my young heart a certain nagging curiosity and a sense of discontent about my own normal, predictable life.
I secretly admired her from the first time her name was slandered in my presence. I was sitting with mother paying a visit to my mother's good friend, Miko. Miko, mother and myself sat, sipping tea. As usual Miko, a busybody, was filling my mother with gossip in her very unique way. Miko never gossiped with an outward display of passion and excitement. She had a quiet sense of refinement in her tone. Every juicy line of dirt that dropped from her lips held an edge of silent, evil poise. A certain line was dropped about the female Kendo practitioner of the Kamiya family. Apparently, she was found shouting in the streets with a group of men. What she was shouting about was unknown, yet it was a known fact that as she was shouting, she spit on the face of an innocent passerby. Kamiya did not stop her shouting to apologize. In fact, she apparently had to be dragged from the scene by her friends.
"Normally such a monstrous display would not be tolerated, but she has that brothel of men living with her now. They'll hurt anyone who even comments on her openly," Miko said, as she gracefully placed her tea in front of her.
Mother nodded, emphatically. My mother was a gentle and natural gossip. She allowed herself to enjoy it. I think it was from mother that I learned to appreciate the corruption that people like Kamiya Kaoru incited. Mother never took gossip to heart. In fact, she was genuinely thankful for societies corrupters. People like Kamiya san gave her something to talk about.
My mother and Miko then proceeded to fill each other's ears (and mine) with all latest news concerning the swordswoman. How was orphaned at the age of sixteen, yet continued to live alone and run her father's dojo. Miko thought that was admirable, only the daughter of true samurai would show such heart. However, a show of heart is more than enough. Kamiya had proven her point. It was now time to accept reality, marry properly and continue to uphold the once honorable Kamiya name.
"Such a woman will certainly come to ruin soon. Her father's dojo cannot survive like this. I'm very concerned," said Miko
"Yes Kamiya san will definitely come to ruin," my mother agreed with a small smile.
I rolled my eyes. Mother was looking forward to that day. What a story it would be! Perhaps, I too was looking forward to that day. You see my feelings had not yet developed into admiration. I was merely curious about her, this Kamiya Kaoru.
We were the same age, and both of admirable samurai stock. However, that was were the similarities ended. I had never really raised my voice to anyone. I would never have the audacity to challenge a group of men. I'm not a weak or fearful person, but I'm not reckless either. Kamiya had not merely challenged a group of men. She'd done it on a crowded street for everyone to see! As if she were unaware of what people would say, what they would think. Or perhaps she was very aware of what people would say. Perhaps that is why she did it. My curiosity was now officially piqued.
A few months later, the hear turned up when it became common knowledge that the drifter, Himura Kenshin was no distant relative and much more than just a temporary visitor at the Kamiya dojo. Around that time Kamiya's life became one scandalous exploit after another and my curiosity developed into a near desperate admiration.
Until 1878, Kamiya had never really scandalized our town, she merely shocked us and filled certain high-minded people in our society with something to complain and wonder about. Having refused honorable marriage proposals from two of our finest bachelors, and maintaining her position as assistant master of her late father's dojo, Kamiya had placed herself in a peculiar social position. Officially, she belonged to no one. However, we could not accept this. There is always a social obligation, and it was Kamiya's duty, especially as a daughter of samurai, to obey the moral laws of our community, both official and unofficial,
In those days, all of our lives were in a state of rapid change. We were experiencing a near constant influx of new outsiders, ideas and philosophies from who knows where. Violence and politics were the subjects of the hour. Every week it seemed, we heard rumors of wars and change. There was so much talk; we found it hard to keep up.
Given all this social change, our small community found division within itself. Whenever such sharp division occurs in a land or people find themselves in the midst of some great change, we feel inclined to take sides. We want to pledge allegiance to something in an effort to return to stability. We want to lessen the feeling of being tossed with time. Of course there are those fortunate (or not so fortunate) souls who can drift with the wind and flow, unmoved with the changing of seasons. Then there are those who create change, positive or no and willfully disturb the ebb and flow of society. Kamiya and her gang if outcasts would prove to be that type.
In any case, there were those in our town who held fast to tradition. Lovers of old establishment, these people became extremely zealous in the pursuit of social and moral offenders. Tokyo as a metropolis is home to all sorts of moral corruptors, freethinkers, drifters and social upstarts. If Kamiya Kaoru had been a drifter of the city, a lost cat without a home, she would possibly not have encountered the problems she did. However, Tokyo is a network of wards, of individual communities, each with its own social law and moral code.
Kamiya Kaoru was a member of one such community. She was a part of this place, as was I, our tiny, quiet ward of temples and rivers. Here, the difference between us was vast. Every move of hers was noted and watched. While I just floated with the breeze, both generally respected and generally unnoticed. Respected because I was unnoticed, or unnoticed because I was respected?
I had been acquainted with Kaoru as a child. She was raised among us. Our families were evenly matched. We were of equal social standing. My father's income was a bit better than hers, however, what they lacked in finances, they more than compensated in other Areas. My family is merely samurai by birth. My father rarely practiced sword arts. The status of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu was a good match for our money. Her father died well established in our community, leaving her as the heir to his prosperous school and land. She was not without connection and support. Before her father left for war, he had begun making plans for Kaoru's future. He had established suitors to consider for her. Yet with his sudden departure for war and subsequent death, Kaoru immediately dissolved any plans for marriage and thus began her life as she has now come to live it.
As I stated before, she never truly scandalized us until the year 1878 when she and I both reached the age of seventeen. That year, I was engaged, and later married to my precious Yoshiro. It was the beginning of a new life for me in many ways. Though Yoshiro was chosen for me, I was blessed to have known and admired him since we were children. While for me, leaving childhood and becoming a married woman was a tremendous step, Kaoru was taking big steps of her own. That was the year she began living with Himura Kenshin. She found him, and he changed her life. For many reason she grew to cleave after him, and he to her. Yes, he changed her life. But in my opinion, he ended it as well. She abandoned her name and honor to live with him, to love him, only to be later murdered by one of him or one of his enemies. It is yet to be determined.
Even now it is hard to think about her murder. Difficult even for those who slandered her name and for everyone who stayed away from her "house of violence and disgrace". We were all shocked and devastated by her death. Of course, the event of her death was preceded by a series of scandals, the likes of which our town had never seen. By the time she actually died (from her riotous living) we were all too shocked to believe it. The worst of us predicated it, and it had actually come true. You see, there were those of us who had such contempt for her obstinacy, for her wildness that we predicated her riotous living would get someone killed. And even though I always admired her, eventually coming to know her as a close friend, I couldn't deny that her lifestyle with Kenshin was peppered with violence. So many things stood between them and the happiness they sought together. His enemies, her vulnerability, her temper, his emotions, her youth, his secrets, these things made loving each other a dangerous and violent affair.
Her memorial services was one of the largest I'd every seen. It seemed the entire town turned up. We all sought to give our condolences (and condescending judgment) to her friends and lovers. However, the main attraction, the one to blame, was not to be found. Himura had apparently come unhinged and disappeared on the very night of her murder (leaving many to suspect – as some had predicted – that he was the murderer). The hustler, Zanza, was there. He looked like yesterday's garbage and smelled worse. Though he muttered curses and incoherent phrases the entire time, at least he had the decency to show up. Yet he too, disappeared soon after her memorial. Only the woman doctor, Megumi and the child-thief Yahiko remained.
At that time, I cried. I was angry. Angry at myself for believing in someone as reckless as Kaoru. I was angry with Kaoru for being so stupid. I was angry at Himura san for so many things. Did he kill her with his own hands? Or simply fail to protect her when it mattered most? Why did he run? As samurai he should have followed her in death, or lived on to avenge her. Most of all, I was angry with our town. Angry at the callous sense of relief that mingled with fear and sadness at her death. Of course, nobody wanted Kaoru to die so horribly. However, many of us were guilty of wishing her gone. Wishing her gone from our town, wishing ourselves free from her wild and unsettling influence.
While I was submitting to plans of marriage, Kaoru was having street fights with yakuza. As I was learning to arrange flowers, and juggling wedding plans with household duties, Kaoru was playing house with her band of rejects. While I was learning to be a good wife to Yochiro, Kaoru was learning the facts of life from her lover, Kenshin. Actually, I still don't know how many rumors about her exploits where true. When I finally got to know her personally I could hardly bring myself to ask her many questions. This was in part because like everyone else, before she died I was a little afraid of her. And like everyone else, when she came back from the dead, I was too afraid to even look at her. I am ashamed, but I will never understand how we buried her ashes and cursed Kenshin's name, only to see her return, with him in tow. We wanted to drive them out then, but we were afraid. What kind of woman could defy us all, die for her debauchery and still return, triumphant? Kaoru knew I was afraid just like the rest. Nevertheless she came to me. She told me all of their stories. She told me her heart. She showed me how it felt to be the nail that sticks out of the plank… and she showed me how it felt to be hammered down.
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