Author's Note: I hope this is something to be thankful for! I certainly am grateful for all of you, who've read and reviewed this story. Your appreciation really does mean a lot to me, so thank you, everyone. The next chapter won't be until December, so see you then!
Tae glanced over at the man sitting next to her. Hiko-san was a swordsman, she had known that from the start, but killing one's master was unheard of. The samurai treasured loyalty to those in authority, even dying for it. And yet, Hiten Mitsurugi defied that.
"It seems like a terrible thing to do, for the student." She said.
"Hiten Mitsurugi has a long past, dating to the Sengoku era. Its strength was feared on the battlefield, and so it had to be culled. The practice started to stop it from shedding more blood than necessary. The original intention was to protect the people, after all." He knocked back the remnants of his cup. "I'll spare you, so I won't be graphic about it."
"One more thing." She interjected. "So if the student kills the master, then that means Kenshin-"
"The short answer is yes. As for the long answer, you'll have to wait but I know you're impatient." There was that smirk again, and it cut the somber mood.
"Of course, I can wait." Despite the needling concern, she smiled. Then, through his voice, the following scenes seemed to unfold before her.
In the years that followed, his training was devoted to becoming stronger. Master sparred with him often, testing his reflexes and speed. If he was too slow, he was hit with a thick branch. As he progressed, iron weights were attached to his calves and upper arms. The smell of rust was in every breath, his movements were strained, and still, Master was relentless. It was brutal, and the breaks were occupied by Master's drone about the tenets of Hiten Mitsurugi. His sword was old and chained to its filthy scabbard, until he was fifteen. By then, the iron weights didn't feel as heavy and he was able to recite the full past of the school.
Training was also a tool, to keep his mind off the past. When he thought of Natsu, a sense of deep numbness would overcome him. To shake it off, it felt like he had to drag himself out of the nearby river, and he would be admonished for being slow during sparring.
"If you are not focused, Thirteen," Master repeated this favorite sentiment with relish. "your blade will falter and you will be cut down. Or are you still eager to die?"
This would invigorate him, dispelling his dark mood so that he could prove Master wrong. He wouldn't die, he wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. His pride was the only thing he had left, and that was something he would never surrender.
Occasionally, people would send in requests, by breathless messenger or hastily written letter. As expected, the requests were for the strength of a sword, to eliminate another. Master had taken the neutrality of Hiten Mitsurugi very seriously and rejected most of the offers. The exceptions were for troublemaking ronin or bandits, and it was only then that Master brought him out of the forest.
He wasn't allowed to kill his opponents, and it was only then that his katana was chained to its sheath. Master consistently delivered the finishing blows, with an emotionless efficiency. Both of them were always splattered with blood by the end, but the work was useful. The criminals moved slower, enough so that he could practice hitting their nine points of defense. He had to be, to defeat Master's attacks.
It sunk in one afternoon, that he had surpassed Master. He had initially thought it was Master's age finally getting to him, slowing his strikes and leaving openings during their spars. But when another request to subdue a gang was accepted, the seasoned ronin weren't even a match for Master.
Master had not become weaker; he had become stronger. He was taller and just as fast, and at the height of his youth. And when he broke through Master's kuzuryuusen, Master realized it too.
"You've done well, Thirteen." That was the only compliment he had received, although it was watered down with the torrent of instruction that followed. Most of it was old information, about the meaning of inheriting Hiten Mitsurugi, that it wasn't just about wearing a coat and carrying a sword. He had been wondering what the point was, when Master finally said. "You're ready to inherit the final technique." Then, he had thrown off his coat and charged with that monstrous bloodlust. That immense pressure had sealed his fate in the orphanage, and the feeling of certain death almost buckled him.
Almost.
He wasn't going to die. He would not die. He had been alive for seventeen years, and this was no time for his life to end. He would live, even if only to spite fate, and willed himself to move. He struck, and the blade cut deep.
Master had looked at him, and something gave in his expression. "Hiko Seijuro XIII. It was an honor to teach you." And at last, he fell.
"That must have been difficult." Tae murmured. "To realize that you ended his life."
"As you can tell, we weren't that close." Hiko-san snorted. "I was sorry that I had to kill him, but he accepted death, and I respected that."
She propped her chin on one hand. "I wonder if he felt sad at all. Yes, he was cruel to you, but he did have a sense of justice. He seemed like a complex person, and perhaps, he was unkind to you so that you wouldn't be attached to him."
She half expected him to retort, but he was somber. "I've considered it. Anyway, after burying him, I tore down the house and rebuilt it."
"For what reason…?"
"I had nothing else to do, and I wanted to prove that I could."
"So it really wasn't a symbolic gesture?"
He laughed, and it was refreshing, after how serious he had been so far. "Not completely. When I was a teenager, I wasn't thinking nearly as deeply. I was focused on learning how to survive on my own."
"I assume that didn't quite work out."
"And why do you think that?"
"Well, you would have started a brewery." She cheerfully answered. "And because you buy your sake, you must have earned money somehow, before becoming Ni'itsu-san."
This time, he laughed even louder. "See, that's what I like about you."
"Excuse me?" Sudden warmth crept up her face. It was probably the liquor in his system talking, although he wasn't even tipsy yet…
He shook his head, dismissing her. "Fine, I'll tell you about the work. I was about to get to that part."
When the name of Hiko Seijuro XIII had settled on him and the house was finished, he was inundated with requests. He needed the money; he couldn't eat only mountain vegetables and mushrooms, like Master had. Besides, what else was he going to do? He had no other purpose in his life. So when a request came to execute a few criminals in a nearby village, he didn't turn the offer down.
It was to keep the peace, he told himself, and it wasn't as if he was defying the teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi. These men had taken advantage of the weak and they deserved death, no matter how much they screamed at him. He didn't have to bury them, the village took care of that messy task, but he would have done it if it meant he could be left alone. The headman was one of the worst kinds of people: overbearing.
"You're returning tomorrow, we'll have a meal in your honor. Hiten Mitsurugi has done many great things for us over the years." The headman insisted, while giving Hiko his payment. "My wife and I will be expecting you before sunset."
"I have other plans." Or rather, he'd make them as soon as possible.
"Then, cancel them."
In the end, he needed more work from the headman, so he attended. He still hated it. The only one who was enjoying himself was the headman. His wife was very quiet, barely moving her long sleeves. If it weren't for her occasional meek suggestion to refill their cups, he would have forgotten her altogether. There were no children in the house, so there was nothing to distract from the awkwardness of it all. On and on, the headman talked about the village's successes and how it fared under his leadership.
It wasn't the last he saw of them. The headman's requests were frequent and lucrative, so he could only grit his teeth while accepting. He endured, even as the headman led him on a tour of the rice fields and chattered about the quality of the crops. When he finally extricated himself, he bought a jug of sake. He did feel conspicuous, bending close to the stall to complete his purchase, but the crowd of workers and shoppers ignored him.
Except for one person. A laborer was staring at him, and he was about to turn away when the man shouted. "Shouya, is that you?!"
His old name made him flinch. How did that man know? The only people who would have were long dead. Unless…
The man stepped closer, looking nervous. "Ah, well, it's been so long, but I'm Atsushi. Do you remember?"
The thief who kept stealing from Natsu's bowl. "Yes." It was as if his voice came from the bottom of a well. "You're alive?"
Atsushi blinked. "Oh, that's right. You were taken away before that happened. I guess you know the orphanage was attacked by a gang, but only the nuns were killed. The children were given to slavers. I can only work like this, so that's why-"
"What about my sister?" He demanded.
"I don't know. I haven't seen her in years. The girls were separated from the boys early on. She's probably in a brothel or something."
That didn't help his mood, but if Natsu was alive, he could find her. He could find her. "Tell me the route the slavers used. Right now."
"Good grief, it's been so long…" Atsushi grumbled, but managed to give some information.
Over the next few months, he followed the winding roads of the Kansai region. At first, he wasn't sure who to ask for. It had been twelve years, and it was very likely that she went by another name. He tried mentioning the orphanage and his first name, but no one seemed to know. There were women in the brothels who said they had been sold, but they didn't recognize the details of the past he and Natsu shared.
In early winter, he had somehow ended up in Hida. He was weary and uncertain that he was going the right way. Could the slavers have gone this far north? Or had he somehow missed her in a previous village? This town wasn't the friendliest, or maybe, that was due to the cold air. Everyone had their heads down, save for a group of children playing tag. He captured their attention with a bag of loose change.
"I'm looking for someone. Can you brats help me?"
They giggled amongst themselves and their 'whispering' was loud enough for him to hear. "Natsuko-nee isn't even as tall as he is."
Natsuko? If she had been adopted, they might have added a character to her name. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. "That's close enough. Where does she live?" They pointed him in the direction of a distant farm, and he let them fight over the measly coins before heading off.
As he walked down the road, he took in his surroundings. The house was small and new, and he heard the faint sound of a river beyond. The clouds had just moved, spilling weak sunshine around him. Then, the house's front door opened. It was a man, and Hiko was out of his range of vision. He was shuffling out, rubbing his hands together. He was too young to be an adoptive father to a teenage girl, but the role of 'older sibling' would have suited him.
That guess quickly changed, when someone else opened the door.
She was a young woman, her hair in a neat bun, and she was just as tall as the man. Her features would have been angular but they were softer than Hiko's; there were no worry lines on her face and she had been well fed. "Dear, you forgot to take the mochi again." She handed the man a cloth-wrapped bundle.
"Thank you. Keep warm, alright?" The man glanced up, noticing Hiko at last. "Good afternoon. Can we help you?"
It had been so long, but now, he was sure. "I was told that someone named 'Natsuko-nee' lives here."
"That's me." She answered, frowning a little. "But, you are?"
"I told you I'd come back, Natsu. I'm sorry I'm late."
There was a long pause. A brisk wind blew, and Natsuko blinked rapidly. "Nii…san?" She slowly asked, and when he nodded, her eyes lit up. "Nii-san, it's really you!"
In that moment, her smile had made it all worth it.
Tae found herself smiling too, even though she knew better. In the end, Natsuko was in a Kyoto cemetery, far away from Hida. But Hiko-san had relaxed while telling her of that fateful reunion. He didn't seem to be aware of the fond half-smile on his face, but she didn't want to bring attention to it. She wanted to carve that expression into her memory, because that kind of true happiness was better than gold.
"So you found 'summer' in winter." She wryly noted the meaning of his sister's name. "And she remembered you. I'm glad to hear that it was easy, to reconnect with her. It isn't always like that with family, especially since you had been separated for that long. But you weren't nervous, I suppose."
"Of course not." Then, he added. "However, I didn't expect her to be married."
She thought for a moment. "Well, she was…seventeen, so that was about the right age. Still, I don't blame you. It wouldn't have sunk in at first, the sister who once rode on your back having a life of her own."
"That's right. But at least she had one." He closed his eyes as he drank his warm sake. "Are you tired?"
"Me? No, it's not even three hours until midnight. But if you'd like to stop talking, I understand. We can pick up again tomorrow-"
"No. I might as well say it all now. If I wanted to stop, I would have said so directly. It's only that it's been a long day for you. You were at the cemetery this morning, probably before I was there."
Oh, that was right. It seemed like that moment had happened in a different era. "It's fine, Hiko-san, I'm used to it. I'm completely awake, so please, go on."
"Feel free to stop me at any time." But he smirked. "Then…"
Natsuko had hurriedly prepared tea and mochi for him, urging him to sit at the table. Her husband, Yoshiro, had offered to give them some time alone and left for the fields. Hiko didn't quite know what to do with himself. He felt like an intruder, in this house meant for newlyweds.
His sister sat opposite from him, and he didn't expect the first words she said. "I thought you had forgotten about me."
"As if I could forget my own family. Idiot."
"I am not an idiot." She chided but laughed. "You haven't changed, nii-san."
"You did. No more lisp, I see. And here you are, all settled down. Is your husband good to you?"
She beamed. "He is. We have a very quiet life. The farm's done well, but it hasn't even been a year. We don't have a well yet, we just get water from the river. Hopefully, when the ground isn't so hard in spring, we can have one. And by that time…" She trailed off, glancing downwards.
"It's true, it's better to wait."
She huffed. "Can't you take a hint? By spring, Yoshiro and I are going to have a baby."
"Is that what you meant? I thought you snuck yourself a few extra mochi." She was barely showing, but a small part of him wanted to deny it. In his memories, his sister was still a child, and it was difficult to adjust his thinking.
"You're mean." But she said it without force. "I was even thinking about naming the baby 'Shoukichi', if it's a boy. After Uncle Shouya, of course."
"I don't go by that name now." He simplified the tale for her, purposely avoiding the part about killing Master. "But you can name the baby however you like. You're the mother, after all."
"I am." There was a flash of pride in her gaze, and it was different from when she got her own way as a child. She had something to live for, and that gave her a new strength. She looked wiser, yet unfamiliar.
He coughed. "Speaking of names, what about yours, Natsuko?"
"Well, after you left, the orphanage was attacked. I don't really remember, but I was taken in by an elderly couple, who needed a pair of hands. They were potters, and I made some things too, like this tea set."
"Really?" He inspected his cup with increased scrutiny. It was flawless, the rim smooth and the glaze even. "It's good."
"Thank you."
"Why don't you start a side business, to support your husband?"
"We don't have that much money. I can't spend any extra on clay and paint, and there aren't many customers who will buy from a woman." She sighed. "Don't look like that, nii-san. I won't have the time either, I'll need all the sleep I can get."
He didn't like that answer, but couldn't disagree. Natsuko had moved on, to telling him about her life in the past years. The elderly couple had taken a liking to her and adopted her, adding the 'ko' character to her name as they had with their grown daughters. They had passed away last year, after finalizing her engagement to their neighbors' grandson, Yoshiro. She had only been faintly acquainted with him before, but she quickly learned to like him. He was steady, she said, and she liked the idea of a lifetime with him. When dusk came and Yoshiro returned, Hiko excused himself.
"Are you sure? We can make room for you, it's no trouble." Natsuko pleaded.
"No, I have work to do." He was being honest. The requests would have accumulated, and now, he needed the money, to support his sister and her growing family.
"Then, take some mochi. If you starve on the way back, I'll never forgive you, nii-san." That made him laugh, as she wrapped the rice cakes for him.
"I'll come back if I can, so goodbye for now." He bowed and Yoshiro returned the gesture.
"Have a safe journey. We'll welcome you anytime, nii-san."
"I don't remember taking care of a sibling like you." He cracked a grin while Natsuko called him mean, but Yoshiro took it in good stride and conceded as much.
When he left, he looked back to see their waving figures. He allowed himself to lift a hand in response.
This time, Hiko-san was the one who stopped. "Is it that hard, for women? Having their own businesses?"
Tae nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. Even when I had enough money, it took me months to get the land. There were half a dozen places where the Akabeko could have been, but the owners always gave the contracts to other men. Sometimes, those men didn't have any culinary experience. Then, after I opened up, more tried to talk me out of it, saying that the work was too much for me to handle. As if I didn't grow up like that! The worst part was when they spread rumors, that my cooking was too modern and not suitable enough. That was why I was grateful for Kamiya-san's help. I thought that was the end of it, but the rebuilding of the Akabeko was delayed because of men again. My restaurant wasn't prioritized during its construction, and I was pressured to sell it off. We waited so long and I had to let go of most of the staff, but I had Tsubame-chan and Yahiko-kun, and the little 'Beko cart. We scraped by; I'm only glad it didn't take more than two years. It is very hard, to make a living."
She clamped her hand over her mouth. Oh, dear. That just all came out, didn't it?
He raised his eyebrows at her. "That's how it is, isn't it? And yet, you persevered."
"I did, despite everything." She had meant to be dignified, but unconsciously, she had been riled up by those memories of unfairness. She shivered slightly and folded her arms together.
Hiko-san noticed. "Here, have some sake."
"Only a cup." She relented and was glad that her hand didn't shake as she accepted the drink. She took a sip, then another.
"Is it good?"
"Yes, thank you."
"You're welcome." He was subdued, seemingly deep in thought. "There isn't much left to tell, but you would have needed that drink anyway."
Natsuko had been pregnant, and Hiko-san had not mentioned her child's fate. She didn't dare to ask, because she could only think of her nephew in that baby's stead and feared the worst. "I see. Do you need a moment?"
"I'll take it." He lowered his head, as if bearing the weight of what he knew. Her heart went out to him, and she reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but her fingertips pressed a little firmer.
"It's alright, Hiko-san. Take as long as you need."
"Sekihara…" He was about to say more but didn't.
They stayed like that for another minute, and Tae chose to clear her mind. No matter what he would say, he had decided to share it with her, and she was prepared to hear it. She was prepared to accept his pain. When Hiko-san straightened and announced that he was ready to continue, she was reluctant to move her hand away.