Genpuku
Thank you to Shauntell for your wonderful review of Chapter One! Your ideas have given me a lot to think about. I apologize if the story doesn't progress the way you've imagined, but I will try to address some of the issues you raised. Thanks also to everyone else who's given me feedback and ideas, as well as their expectations and hopes for how this should be resolved.
Chapter Four:
A
Kyoto Visit
"Mou! Kenshin!"
The outraged exclamation had him grinning and marveling over how the two simple words could always bring to mind the crystal-clear image, preserved forever in his memory, of her as a seventeen-year-old, cursing him for treating her like a child or for doing something to ruffle her feathers.
Such as what he'd done before coming downstairs after he'd gone up to the room where they were staying at the Aoiya to drop off the packages they'd acquired from the day's shopping. He had to struggle to compose his features as Kaoru's footsteps stomped louder down the stair treads as she approached like a thundercloud, knowing he'd really be in for it if she saw even a glimmer of humor in his expression.
Beside him, peeling vegetables for the evening meal over the sink, Aoshi had time to send Kenshin one vaguely amused look before Kaoru descended with all her fury into the kitchen.
"Kenshin!" Kaoru stood in the doorway, looking absolutely…livid.
She was also wearing nothing more than one of Kenshin's white gi, a damp bath towel wrapped around her waist. Her wet, gleaming black hair was tied up securely on top of her head with the same thin white towel she'd used to keep her hair out of her eyes while she'd been bathing.
The closest Kenshin had ever seen Shinomori Aoshi, okashira of the Oniwabanshuu, to blushing was when he looked at Kaoru over his shoulder, saw her in such a state of undress, and quickly averted his eyes. He returned to peeling vegetables, and Kenshin was pretty sure he'd seen Aoshi's hand wobble a little as he picked up another carrot.
But he had no time to dwell on the latest wonder of the world, because Kaoru was stalking across the kitchen towards him, and the expression on her face was the same sort of look that a man-eating tiger would wear once it had gotten its pretty cornered and quivering with fear after a long chase.
Her voice was like ice. "Where did you put all my clothes?"
Kenshin had to struggle for composure, scrambling to achieve that rurouni-like innocence he knew he still had, hidden somewhere deep down inside, where it had lay dormant for so many years now. "Clothes, Kaoru-dono? I saw your sleeping yukata folded on top of the futon when I dropped off the packages. We aren't going anywhere else tonight, so you don't have to dress up…"
Her eyes, those gorgeous cobalt-blue eyes he had fallen in love with that cold winter's night so long ago when she had challenged him to protect her family's honor, narrowed dangerously. Kenshin realized with that one glare his mistake. One of Sano's favorite—and more profane—exclamations leapt, unbidden, to Kenshin's mind.
He'd been trying so hard to assume his rurouni persona, he'd fallen straight into his former speech patterns—including the fatal error of calling her 'Kaoru-dono'.
"Kenshin!" She'd perfected that tone of voice on their sons, his name a whiplash with an edge as sharply honed as Battousai's wakizashi. And, much like he'd seen his boys do in the face of such powerful anger, Kenshin cowered. Shamelessly.
There were times Kaoru wished she could throttle her husband. This wasn't one of them. What Kaoru really wanted to do was snatch the knife Aoshi was wielding and use it to skin Kenshin where he stood, much the way the tall ninja was peeling vegetables. With long, steady strokes of the blade that would leave him oozing blood from every inch of his exposed body. Kenshin was doing this on purpose! He was…teasing her! Her fingers curled in rage even as she had to fight back the niggling sense of humor at the whole situation. Kenshin only slipped and used the polite '-dono' when he was trying to be sneaky and fake innocence.
He was a really, really bad liar.
The man was incorrigible, and he'd only gotten worse since becoming a father. Kaoru supposed it only made logical sense; as a boy, Kenshin had been forced too soon, too young, to be a man. Now, as an adult, he was compensating and acting the way most people grew out of by the time they turned eighteen.
But that was no reason to let him off the hook that easily.
"I can't wear my yukata to dinner!" Kaoru's eyes cut pointedly to Aoshi, clearly speaking of the embarrassment factor, though in reality she was more worried about giving Okina strange ideas…"And what about traveling? I have to wear something for the journey back!"
"Oro?" Kenshin maintained his steadfastly put-upon demeanor, but knew he was hard-pressed not to burst into uncontrollable laughter at any moment. "That's a good point, Kaoru-dono." He knew he was caught, but he could read the devilish merriment in Kaoru's eyes; she had never mastered the ability to mask how she truly felt, and her eyes gave her away every time.
But that was no reason to let her win that easily.
"But I already asked Misao-dono to take care of our luggage, so it's out of my control…"
Kaoru would have screamed in frustration—he was egging her on, he was just egging her on—had Misao not popped in at just that moment, sticking her head around Kaoru's shoulder to catch a glimpse of Aoshi, probably for no more reason than to confirm his presence. Her hair, cut to a more manageable length during her pregnancies and early child-rearing years, had had ten years to grow and was almost as long as Kenshin remembered when he'd first met her, as spirited and stubborn at sixteen as she was now. At thirty-two, the unwise might have expected her to settle down, or grow up, but Misao was Misao—optimistic, cheery, energetic, and unchanging.
She had ceded the title and responsibilities of okashira to Aoshi soon after returning to Kyoto and burying the four fallen Oniwabanshuu members closer to home. With Aoshi running the organization and Okina, Omasu, and Okon heading the Aoiya, Misao had dedicated herself to completing the training interrupted when Aoshi had first left her for Tokyo and strengthening the Oniwabanshuu's anti-crime efforts in conjuction with the local police.
Too bad they didn't have Chief Uramura. Nooo, they were stuck with the broom-headed ex-Juppongatana, Chou. What a pain.
And, at the age of nineteen, she'd fulfilled her lifelong ultimate dream and became Aoshi's wife, adding to her daily duties caring for him and, then, their children.
"Hey, Himura, Shiro and Kuro put your stuff in the carriage, so you're all set to leave first thing tomorr…" Misao caught the killing look Kaoru sent her husband, and Misao finally noticed Kaoru's odd garb. Not one to miss out on a joke, her lightning-quick mind putting two and two together rapidly, she said, "Looking good, Kaoru-san. And I had the delivery guy drop the boxes off up in your room."
The last was directed to Kenshin, and he smiled at her, ignoring the suspicion that crossed Kaoru's face. "Thank you, Misao-dono."
"Himura." Aoshi's deep voice was calm as ever, and he turned from where he'd been all but invisible at the sink, a growing number of peeled vegetables piling up in front of him. "Perhaps you should diffuse the situation before your wife explodes of ire. I have been peeling vegetables for a long time now. I do not wish to see all my efforts wasted if she combusts and covers the kitchen in rather unappetizing internal matter."
His face was dead serious, his voice vaguely monotonous, but Kenshin could swear he had just made a joke.
"Aoshi-sama!" Misao's protest was half familiar wail and half sternly unforgiving chastise. She, too, was the mother of boys. "That is not funny!"
Kaoru cut off any apology Aoshi might have offered, speaking to Misao. "Misao-chan. Kenshin's not giving me any straight answers, and I'm starting to feel just a bit ridiculous. What's going on? What delivery guy? And can I borrow something to wear, please?"
Misao glanced at Kenshin, who put down the knife he'd been using to chop up the vegetables Aoshi was peeling and took Kaoru's hand in his. He exchanged a brief, significant look with Misao, and Misao nodded her head in the slightest of nods before turning to Kaoru with a bright smile. "It's for Himura to explain, not me. Don't be mad, though, be happy! Today's a good day!"
Kaoru let Kaoru lead her out of the kitchen, all teasing gone, and up the stairs. Her confused eyes met his placid violet ones. "Come with me," Kenshin said simply, and Kaoru subsided, willing to wait to see what answers lay ahead.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"Kenshin…" A little nervous now, Kaoru walked a pace behind him up the stairs, wishing she could look him in the eye. It had started out as nothing more than a little teasing, harmless flirting, really. She was upset about the lack of clothes, but she'd figured out soon enough that Kenshin had just played a joke on her; her first response was to answer his joke with anger, and Kaoru didn't believe in trying to hide who she was for anyone or anything.
But now…now she wasn't so sure what was going on.
"Trust me," Kenshin said, another simple command that was more that than entreaty, and yet wasn't quite direct order. They reached the upstairs landing, and Kenshin kept Kaoru's fingers intertwined with his. He spoke, conversationally, as they walked down the hall to their room.
"I don't remember joking much as a child, unless you could being made fun of by my Shishou counts. Before Shishou, I don't remember laughing or having any fun. And afterwards, there was no fun at all—some moments of peace, of happiness, yes—but nothing to really make me laugh. I had no one to just pend time with, to enjoy being with, to make me laugh and realize this is why you live. Not just what I fought for, but…this is why you live. No one until you."
He paused outside the door and smiled at her. "I'm sorry for teasing you, Kaoru, but I've learned to really live because you've been here to show me why."
Kaoru's lips quirks despite the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach in anticipation of whatever surprise lay on the far side of the door. "So it's my fault I'm walking around in my bath towel in front of Aoshi-san?" The mortification of the moment, when she'd walked into the kitchen and realized Kenshin wasn't alone, hit her again. Why? Her mind wailed. Why did it have to be him?
Kenshin shook his head but ignored her question. "Kaoru…Do you know what day today is?"
Her mind went completely blank. "Uh…Thursday. January thirtieth."
He nodded and put his hands on the door, releasing hers, but didn't slide it open yet. "Today, sixteen years ago, was the day I first met you, on that empty street in Tokyo. It was the happiest day of my life." Kaoru didn't think she'd ever seen Kenshin's eyes so beautiful or so honest as they were now, caught in her gaze as surely as she was trapped in his.
His voice was whisper-soft. "I don't think I've ever thanked you. And…I saw these, and when you went with Misao-dono last week to the theater, I ordered a couple for you. I thought you'd like them. I hope you do."
And with that simple confession, Kenshin slid open the door.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
They had decided to forgo the heavier items on the shopping list until after lunch, for which Kenji was glad. He didn't fancy lugging around all those groceries to the small but popular udon shop. It was crowded indoors, where there were cramped booths inside the well-lit space, but it was warm, the service was good, and the food was excellent.
"Tsubame-san!" The proprietor was a stout little woman, probably in her early forties, with warm, friendly brown eyes and wispy black hair slipping out of the traditional-style knot she had fashioned at the base of her neck. She wore a long white apron over the restaurant's uniform kimono of pale green with darker silvery stripes. "It's so good to see you! It's been a while."
She and Tsubame bowed in greeting, and Tsubame smiled in genuine pleasure. "Hello, Tanizaki-san. I'm glad to see you so well. Your restaurant is as busy as ever!"
"Business is good, and we're very lucky. Are these your—No," she interrupted herself, her gaze sweeping over the three children; lighting on Kenji, with his distinctive violet eyes, she smiled. "These must be the Himura children."
"They are." Tsubame performed the introductions, and the children bowed politely in turn. Then they were whisked off to a table, the hostess taking the bags of groceries they had already bought to the back for easier storage while they ate.
Kenji waited until they had ordered before he directed the question that had been nagging him all morning to Tsubame. "Tsubame-nee?" She looked at him inquisitively over the top of Hina's head, and Kenji hesitated a moment before asking, "Why does Yahiko-nii wear the character for 'evil' on some of his shirts?"
The question seemed to startle Tsubame for a moment, but then a small smile, one that plainly reminisced about a past time, covered her face. For a minute Kenji thought she might not answer, but she finally said, "Your father has mentioned his friend who went traveling before you were born, Sagara Sanosuke-san, hasn't he?"
Kenji nodded and, without turning his attention from Tsubame, grabbed the cup of tea away from Hina's curious hands before she spilled the hot contents and burned herself. "Yeah. Dad calls him the closest friend he ever had, other than Mom, but he doesn't talk about him much. He's from the days when Dad used to fight for peace in the Meiji Era, right? With his sakabatou and stuff."
Oh, Kenji-kun. You have no idea how Kenshin-san fought for the Meiji Era, Tsubame thought sadly, and for a moment she was eleven years old again, sitting on the back porch of the dojo on a muggy summer's eve, listening to the man she'd grown to love and trust as much as family tell a tale of love and hate, justice, revenge, death, and an innocence shattered.
Her heart ached now, as it had then, for the boy who had too soon become a man.
But all she said was a single "Yes" before continuing. "This should be a story for Yahiko-kun to tell, not me, but the short answer to your question is that Yahiko-kun inherited, if you will, the symbol of 'evil' from Sanosuke-san. Sanosuke-san used to wear it all the time, as a reminder of an injustice done to him and his adopted father when he was still a child. When Sanosuke-san left the country to go traveling, he asked Yahiko-kun to help share some of the burden of memory."
Yahiko had shared with her all this, and while Tsubame knew Kenji would ask Yahiko later for the details, she wasn't sure how much of the deep past—the Sekihoutai, the corruption of the Ishinshishi, and Kenshin's own role in everything—he would divulge.
Kenji seemed content to leave it at that, and he turned his attention to Hina, who had moved from where Tsubame sat on one side of the low table to the opposite side, where he sat facing her. Tsubame was glad Kenji hadn't pressed further; his interest extended to Yahiko's adoption of the unusual kanji, nothing more. It always made Tsubame uneasy to talk about Kenshin's past, because she was afraid of saying too much.
It's not that Kenshin and Kaoru told lies or kept secrets from their children. It was just…sometimes they didn't tell them the whole truth, either.
It was for their protection, and because some memories, some ghosts, were better off left untouched. Bu tnonetheless, it was rare times like these that Tsubame was glad she wasn't a parent, because the ethical dilemma wasn't hers to solve.
Written: 7.20.06
Author's Notes: The name of the udon shop proprietor is taken from Japanese author Tanizaki Junichiro, whose works I read last quarter in Japanese Lit class. His stories (especially "The Tattooer") were creepy but, apparently, stuck with me. It's of no importance, but I thought credit was due where credit is deserved, and I shamelessly stole his name for this.
A few historical notes…the Sekihoutai was the group Sano was involved with, led by Sagara Souzou. While they fought for the new era and were technically helping the Ishinshishi patriots (same side as Kenshin), they did so on their own terms and, after the revolution was secured, were labeled as "traitors" and persecuted. Sagara-taichou, Sano's captain and father-figure during this time, was beheaded as an example.
The Ishinshishi were the patriots, led by Okubo and Yamagata, among others, who fought and eventually won the Bakumatsu (Meiji Revolution) with help of shadow assassins such as Hitokiri Battousai.
Glossary:
-chan: affectionate
suffix for children and girls
-dono: "lady";
trademark of Kenshin's wandering days with which he refers to women
Gi: traditional
Japanese shirt, open in front with the left side crossed over the
right
-kun: affectionate
suffix for males
Mou: exclamation of
exasperation
-nee: an
affectionate suffix for an older sister
-nii: an
affectionate suffix for an older brother
Okashira: "leader"
Sakabatou: Kenshin's
reverse-blade sword
-sama: "lord"
-san: polite suffix;
"Mr./Mrs./Ms."
Shishou: "master"
(as of a sword style); Kenshin's name for Hiko Seijurou
Wakizashi: short
sword worn by samurai in addition to the longer katana
Yukata: thin cotton
robe, plainer than a kimono
