Chapter 4

Stories of blood

"I met Himura at an ochaya in Shimabara. Nobody really important was there, only a few members of the ishin party. I was never at the top of this world and the tea houses I worked for never were important places in the history of the revolution. Ordinary people, extraordinary destinies. He came with some of the other men and obviously he didn't want to be there. He remained quietly seated by the door most of the the evening and drank little. I must confess I didn't really notice him. The little party continued until late in the night and it was almost dawn when they decided to leave at last.

I sat, as was my habit, in the kitchen of the tea house, sipping a little bit of tea and waiting for Shoji, the son of our mistress, who always walked back home with us. Those were dangerous times and it was unsafe even for us to walk the streets alone. Suddenly, Himura walked in, looking disoriented.

"Excuse me, have you seen my companions?" he asked. His voice was low and monotone. It felt like he was really tired. Emotionally tired.

I stood up and smiled at him.

"They left a few minutes ago. I thought you had left with them..."

For a split second, he knitted his brow but soon his face was as smooth and expressionless as it had been back in the party room.

"I see. I am leaving, then. Would you want me to accompany you back to your okiya. The city is unsafe at this hour."

I smiled to myself. This was the most words I had heard him say in a row that evening.

"I'm sorry, Mr...?"

"Himura. Himura Kenshin."

In a flash, my mind made the connection with the famous ishin assassin, hitokiri battousai. I gave Himura a quick look from head to toe. How could this skinny boy be a killer?

It only took him a glance to see that I had connected the dots. He did not, however, seem embarrassed.

"Maybe you know me better under the name of hitokiri battousai," he volunteered.

I decided to ignore it.

"Mr Himura, I thank you for your kind offer but I'm waiting for one of my people. We never walk the streets alone."

"Could this person be a tall skinny man with thick eyebrows?"

I frowned. Had Shoji already arrived?

"If that is so I'm sorry to say that I sent him away. I told him that everyone had gone already. I'm sorry, I'm not used to this kind of place. Will you allow me to walk you home?"

I had no choice but to accept. To be honest, I never found out if he had really sent Shoji away or if the whole thing had been his idea. He did however, get me safely home. We did not talk much on the way, I because I was exhausted and he, well, I can't say for sure, but he appeared to be lost in his thoughts.

The following night, as I was on my way home with Shoji after my appointment at an another ochaya a man appeared from a side street. He was panting and covered in blood. Of course, my companion drew his wakizashi and I was sure we were both going to be killed.

"Yumiko-dono," said the man and I instantly recognized his voice. "May I walk you home?"

At that very moment, the moon came out of the clouds and shone bleakly on Himura. He looked more alive than ever. Shoji was about to strike but I stopped him. He would have died, anyway.

"Shoji, this is Himura Kenshin. He walked me home yesterday. He's a friend, let him walk with us."

When he heard the name, Shoji almost dropped his sword. I smiled to myself. Now that he knew that this little fifteen year old girl had a powerful friend, maybe he would stop trying to take her for himself.

With Shoji in front and Himura and I at the rear, our little group started moving forward. We walked in silence for a while. The smell of blood was overwhelming and yet, I could still catch his scent. Without thinking, I grabbed the handkerchief I always kept in my sleeve and gave it to him. He politely refused at first but finally accepted. He wiped his face and put the piece of fabric in his sleeve, promising to give it back as soon as possible.

"I killed three men."

He blurted it out as if he hadn't meant to say it but just couldn't keep it inside anymore. Now I had been working in this time of war for a while and I had heard many men boast about their kills, but the way he said it was different. It was the confession of a tortured man. An apology, almost. At that moment, I felt sorry for him and I. Sorry that we lived in an era that turned boys into murderers and poor country girls into objects of Man's desires.

"May their souls find the light," was all I replied.

These few words seemed to appease him a little. We didn't say much more that night, but this little exchange was to become a routine of ours. He would confess his crimes and I would, in a way, absolve him.

For the year that followed, Himura almost managed to walk me home every night. I don't know how he gathered the information, but he always seemed to know where I was. At first, Shoji still came but eventually they left it to Himura to walk me safely home. I was always looking forward to seeing him. He sometimes showed up covered in blood, but most of the time he made sure to clean himself before he came. I could still, however, smell the blood on him.

I rarely talked during our nocturne promenade. Rather, I listened to him. It seemed like he had been accumulating words for years. He told me of his mother, of his childhood, of the way they had been sold as slaves, of his master and of his training, but never of the ishin. He still, however, told me the number of kills.

Then, one night, he didn't show up. I thought it was one of those nights when he was just too busy and so I walked home by myself, using the safe passage he had shown me. The next night, he didn't show up either. I started to worry that something bad had happened to him when he didn't show up for the third night in a row. I tried to gather information at the parties I went to and was finally told that Himura had found a woman, and a pretty one at that."

"Tomoe," said Kaoru.

"Yes, it was indeed Tomoe. I was heartbroken. I realized that all along, I had been harbouring feelings for Himura. I was sixteen by then, and madly in love with the hitokiri battousai."

Yumiko paused. The rain had almost stopped. The night was so quiet yet in her mind she could still hear the screams and the sound of steel clashing against steel somewhere far in the night. She closed her eyes and sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to continue her story.

Kaoru sat quietly, deep in thoughts. Kenshin had never told her about this woman, yet, she could feel that she was telling the truth, no matter how remote the story seemed. She wanted to know more. Each word was like a knife in her heart and yet, she had to know the rest of the story. She stretched her arm and took the woman's hand in hers. Yumiko, startled, looked into this young woman's eyes.

"Please tell me more" she whispered softly.

Yumiko had a sad smile.

"I didn't see him for months and then one night, as I was working, he showed up at the back door of the ochaya. Luckily I was in the kitchen getting some sake when he arrived. He stood in the doorway, drenched in blood and rain, his sword unsheathed, looking lost. The staff started screaming in fear but I took control of the situation quickly and brought Himura to a small empty room. I was so afraid that he was hurt. I couldn't tell if the blood covering him was his."

"What happened next?" asked Karoru, hanging from Yumiko's lips.

She was about to reply when footsteps coming from behind her startled her. Both women turned around to see Kenshin standing by the veranda, drenched in rain. In a small but dark voice, he answered Karoru's question.

"I raped her."