The Courtship of Lady Tokio
Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts.
Chapter 9 – Politics and Mismatches
- 27th April 1864 –
Saitou carefully unwrapped the carefully folded papers. Since last December, Tokio's writing had become a hand that he would never fail to recognise. Over a month had passed since the last time he had received news from her and it had caused him to frown. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he had been thinking about why she had not written, and now that a letter had arrived, he felt somewhat relieved.
10th April 1864 –
Saitou-sama,
It is my immense regret to inform you that due to circumstances beyond my control, I must refrain from corresponding with you in the future. While I understand that it might not be of much significance to you, for my part I will miss being able to tell you my thoughts and confide in you. There is nothing as reassuring as a silent correspondent to keep your secrets. It was around this time last year that I first spoke to you, I recall. However, I assure you that this is in no way due to any trouble regarding yourself. Thank you so much for everything, and as always, you have my best wishes. Please take care of yourself, and even though you don't hear from me, I shall still be asking after the Shinsengumi, so please remember that I would be distressed if I were to hear that you had taken ill or been wounded. And please, remember me. Remember me fondly and smile, even if it is that crooked smile of yours.
Yours, as ever,
Takagi Tokio.
Saitou stood there, unmoving, as those words sank in. It bothered him, it bothered him more than he would care to admit, and it bothered him that it should bother him. Something had happened, something that had made her rethink communicating with him. Something to make her stop writing her rambling letters. 'Remember me fondly and smile.' The image of her smile rose in his mind – she smiled a lot, sometimes wistfully, sometimes merrily, and always heart-wrenchingly. Saitou Hajime, at the age of nineteen, had faced for the first time an unnameable disruption to his usually implacable self. Saitou Hajime, at the age of twenty, now struggled as he tried to remember whether there was a word for the vacant space he felt inside of him which he had never noticed before. It did not come to mind. Perhaps people had yet to invent a word for such an unsettling feeling.
11th May 1864 –
It had been a long time since Saitou had been to the Aizu headquarters of Koumyouji temple. He had no official reason to go, and even less so unofficial ones after Tokio had left for Edo. The last time, they had been there to pay their respects for the New Year. Now, it was May, and it was strange to think that it had been over a year since they had performed their demonstration. As he entered the inner courtyard, he remembered that day so clearly that he half expected to hear the twang of an arrow being fired. He was there today as part of an escort for Kondou's appointment with Matsudaira Katamori. Kondou liked to bring along different people each time for his meetings, and this time it was Saitou and Takeda Kanryuusai. He grimaced in annoyance. Takeda was one of the people he really could not stand making time for, as opposed to the many people he simply preferred not to make time for: a pretentious, effete, pompous know-nothing know-it-all. Even today, Takeda was overstepping the bounds of good manners and without any tact, kept interrupting Kondou's and Matsudaira's discussion.
"If I may, Kondou-sensei," "with your permission my Lord," he piped up again and again without being asked. Not that Kondou and Matsudaira seemed to mind – they had more patience and tolerance than Saitou, that was certain. Takeda was declaiming some obscure theory of military tactics now. Saitou had barely opened his mouth throughout the discussions.
"Actually, Katamori-sama, if I had some paper and ink at my disposal, I could illustrate this more clearly" Takeda was saying. Matsudaira Katamori, ever the obliging master and host, nodded his head.
"I'm sure that we will be happy to find some for you." He moved to call somebody but before he did so, Saitou rose swiftly to his feet.
"Katamori-sama, I can see to that." He had been stuck in this room for nearly an hour now and he felt that he needed a change of air, as well as a break from Takeda's lectures.
Outside, there was a flurry of activity by the main gates. He found a servant girl and asked her for the writing implements. She seemed flustered when she returned a few minutes later.
"I am so sorry sir that I took so long. It's just that a company arrived from Edo only a while ago, and I had to stop and greet them."
He narrowed his eyes. 'A company arrived from Edo.' The servant girl paled – she had mistaken the glare as a reproach, and it was common sense in Kyoto these days not to raise the ire of the Shinsengumi.
"My apologies sir! It is just that Tokio Ojou-sama who had been away called out to me, and seeing her again after so many months..."
"Apologies are unnecessary." Saitou turned around, after a slight nod by way of thanks, and walked quickly back to the room. 'Takagi Tokio is back in Kyoto.' He handed the paper and brush to Takeda, bowed to Kondou and Matsudaira, and stated,
"There is a company just arrived from Edo, and it appears that they could use a hand arranging their effects. I offered to help, although if it would be better for me to stay here..."
"No, no, that won't be necessary, run along Saitou-kun." Takeda dismissed him curtly. Saitou ignored him, looking at Kondou. Kondou hesitated, nodded, and then turned to Matsudaira.
"If it is alright with you, Matsudaira-sama, then I am sure that Saitou-kun will be glad to offer his assistance."
"They'll be much obliged, Saitou. Thank you." Matsudaira nodded at Saitou.
With that, Saitou left the room again. As he turned the corner, he could hear the bustle of the unpacking underway.
"It's alright, Ojou-sama, it's not too heavy, so please don't worry! Ooof!"
A man turning the corner at the same time nearly collided with Saitou, and lost his balance. Saitou caught the box before it fell.
"Koichi-san, are you alright? Oh dear..." It was a voice he had not forgotten. Saitou's eyes met the deep brown gaze of Takagi Tokio. And held it, and kept holding it for a while longer.
"Sir, I apologise for my clumsiness... If I may take the box now?" The man called Koichi was addressing Saitou.
Still looking at Tokio, Saitou simply said,
"It's alright, I can manage it." Saitou looked down at the servant, who seemed nervous and embarrassed. "And I'm sure the lady would prefer that her things were unbroken by men who try to carry more than they can handle," he added tauntingly. Tokio was trying to hide a small smile. If Saitou had surrendered to his honest emotions then, he would have to admit that he had missed her smile. And maybe he did acknowledge it. One never could quite tell with Saitou Hajime.
"How was your trip from Edo," Saitou asked as the side gate slid open.
Tokio gave a small start; she had been expecting to see him tonight, but he had been hidden in the shadows. She smiled at him and bowed.
"Saitou-sama, it has been a while." She closed the gate. "The trip was fine, although I am quite tired now after all the travelling."
It had been half a year since she had been in Kyoto. When she had arrived back at Koumyouji earlier that day, she had been very surprised to see Saitou there. Of all the people to greet her upon her return, she felt that fate had a funny way of answering her most secret wishes. But seeing as how there were so many people around, they had not been able to exchange more than the barest greetings, even while he had helped her unload her luggage. Then, after he had moved her belongings, the other men of the company had roped him into carrying their cases as well. By the time he had carried the last box, Kondou was calling for him to return to Mibu. So, a hasty agreement had passed between them, and here they were, just like before. It was a mild, moon bright night of early summer, and they were meeting outside the walls of Koumyouji. She was wearing a servant's simple kosode now instead of a monk's garb, and he silently acknowledged her understated grace. They both were initially at a loss for words as to how to begin talking to each other.
"Thank you very much for your assistance today." Tokio ventured in a quiet murmur as they began to walk.
"Hmph." Saitou snorted. "What were in those boxes anyway?" They had been heavy for their size.
"Books."
"What, are there not enough scrolls and texts at Koumyouji?"
"Saitou-sama..." She seemed a bit amused and a bit bothered.
"Well, you do make a very unconvincing monk."
"I disguise myself better as a woman, you said. So here I am, disguised."
"Frankly, I am surprised that you are here tonight." The conversation had moved quickly to the topic that both had been trying to broach. "After all, you did decide to cut off contact." Saitou's tone of voice was even and calm and a little dry, belying the coiling feeling at the pit of his stomach.
"Saitou-sama, I am sorry, and you really must believe me when I say that."
"You shouldn't be out tonight." Saitou cut her off.
"Perhaps, but - "
"No buts." He snapped at her, more harshly than he had intended.
Tokio bit her lower lip, and with a downcast gaze, murmured,
"It really wasn't something I wanted to do, to stop writing..."
"Don't get me wrong, I really couldn't care less what you decide to do. But since you put me to such trouble," he snorted in annoyance, "since you do put me to such trouble, I expect that there be a good reason." He had lied; he had cared more than he would ever admit when she had stopped writing. She looked up at him. He wrenched his eyes away as though he had seen something he regretted - her regret.
"Saitou-sama, I am engaged to be married..." Her tone was low but very clear.
It seemed as though everything around them had fallen silent at that moment. Saitou, registering what she had said, turned to look at her again, but had nothing to say.
"I am arranged to be married to a samurai of Satsuma. A son of the Saigou family. I stopped writing because it would have been highly inappropriate of me to keep doing so... otherwise, I would not have denied myself the pleasure of pestering you-" Saitou snorted. "-But now, I must act accordingly as a lady of Aizu... It is an important political match." She smiled such a sorrowful little smile.
"... This was arranged in April?" Saitou did not trust himself to speak too much then. She nodded.
"There had been talk before, but I had always managed to deter it. But this time... Aizu is struggling. There is too much political strife, and our position here in Kyoto is so important. If a formal alliance could be established between Aizu and Satsuma, then there really would be no challenge to Aizu's mission here. Choushuu would not be able to wreak so much havoc. And I... and I will marry for the better good. I am to meet my future husband here at Koumyouji next month, and after the ceremony, I will move to the Satsuma headquarters here in Kyoto."
"And you are happy?" Saitou looked into the night, as though trying to focus on some distant point.
"What does happiness matter? ... If a union between Satsuma and Aizu is a step towards political stability and peace... What else should I do? What else could I do? I am only a woman. What right do I have to a selfish happiness while my people work so hard to fulfill their duties and curtail war? ... We do what we can, as you said, Saitou-sama."
Tokio bowed her head and was silent. Presently, she murmured.
"Saitou-sama, I apologise for burdening you with my worries tonight. Please, do not feel concern for my sake..."
"... Are you asking me not to care?" His voice was steady, but when Tokio looked up, she saw in his eyes what might have been a struggle to control himself.
"I did not think you would mind too much, to be honest. You never said... You never replied to my letters..."
"Should I have replied? What should I have said?" He looked at her sharply. An understanding of sorts had been established between them. This was not the time for bashful comments or fake indifference.
"You could have said thank you. 'Thank you for the letters.' You could have asked me to keep writing, though you had nothing else to say..."
"I didn't ask you to stop writing. Wasn't that worth something?"
Such a cool voice, but he was looking at her intently, and this time it was she who would not meet his gaze.
"It was, for a while. But then circumstances changed. I would have kept writing, except that circumstances changed..." Her voice trailed into a low murmur.
"Here." He withdrew a sheaf of papers from his sleeves. Tokio accepted them, and inclined her head. She looked at him inquiringly before unfolding them. All that was written on them were dates and her name. Different dates on the different sheets. "I did think to reply, you know... But what should I have said?"
They stood on the banks of the river as before, and to all other eyes would have seemed content in their silence. They were, in a sense, as they did not have the words to explain, to describe, to plead, to petition, to ask, to accept. Tokio, by sheer virtue of being Tokio, had seen the true essence of Saitou, beyond the cruel wit, beyond the detachment, beyond the superior attitude, and had seen him. Tokio had been honest with him. She had trusted him. She had respected him, and he had respected her. He had understood her. And she had cared about him. Saitou, try as he might, could not deny this. Although at the moment, he was wishing that he could. Wanting to go back to that first encounter but this time wanting to not notice her, not to walk with her, not to talk with her, not to go down to the river together and watch the cruise boats swing their coloured lanterns and the reflection of lights onto the rippling water.
"Saitou-sama, I truly am sorry."
"… You have done nothing wrong."
"No, perhaps not, but I am sorry for myself."
Saitou looked at Tokio with an expression that had never graced his face before.
"Tokio-san, things happen as they should." Tokio shut her eyes tightly closed. Saitou continued in an even voice, though he was not used to having to struggle to keep it so. "And you are an honourable woman."
"... And you are a good man."
"I wish you the best for the future."
"Thank you."
"... They're only tears, Tokio-san, let them spill."
Author's notes:
My humblest gratitude to the people who are reading this and letting me know what they think. Thank you ever so much, and I hope that I will be able to keep you interested. These last two chapters are dedicated to anyone who writes letters to the people they care about. And for those of you who think it's not possible to fall in love through writing, then I'll just say that that's not true. It happens. And even the most dastardly of men are not so dastardly in such circumstances.
1. Ojou-sama: Honourable Lady (as opposed to the familiar 'Jou-chan' that Sano calls Kaoru).
2. Satsuma and Saigou: Satsuma was a powerful region in Southern Japan, rivals of Aizu for power in Kyoto and arch enemies with Choushuu. Satsuma would surprise all of Japan when they signed a treaty with Choushuu against the Bakufu a few years later, and one of the main architects of that alliance, Saigou Takamori, would become one of the principal actors in the formation of Meiji Japan.
"I hold this letter in my hand,
a plea, a petition, a kind of prayer,
I hope it does as I have planned,
Losing her again is more than I can bear.
I kiss the cold, white envelope,
I press my lips against her name,
Two hundred words we live in hope,
The sky hangs heavy with rain.
Love letter, love letter,
Go get her, go get her." - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds