The Red Lantern
A/N: Hello everyone. Two quick points to note before we get on with the story. One: While this is a historical AU, I have never actually done Japanese History in my life, so all that follows is based on my reading of Wikipedia articles. So, as much as I would like to be perfect with my facts, the storyline may not be very consistent. Anyone who finds anything for me to correct, please do point it out. That would be awesome! ^_^
Two: There are lots of terms I'm using which you may not be familiar with. Any Japanese word taken directly without translation will be at least once in italics, with a brief definition/explanation give below, in the second author's note.
That's about it, I think. Enjoy! :D
Summary: He's the heir to a disgraced empire, the son of an ornamental emperor, puppet to the whims of the military rule. She's the daughter of a Feudal General, tucked in the mountains, facing the looming white death. But change is blowing across Japan, and from hundreds of miles away, Akashi Seijuro pulls the strings of a political uprising. However, falling in love with the enemy's daughter wasn't part of the plan. AkashiOC. Historical AU.
"Orange leaves falling.
and the northern wind blows in.
Autumn is stirring."
Chapter One: The Message
"All Heaven and Earth
Flowered white obliterate...
Snow...unceasing snow"
― Hashin, Japanese Haiku
It is a dreary little mountain town, barely rising above the clouds- foggy, wet and perpetually asleep.
The mountains tower above it, and often, when the winds get especially violent, the snow falls in huge clumps, nearly burying them alive. They retreat into the mountains when that happens. Sometimes people don't make it, and when the sun rises the next day- after a night of unyielding, bitter cold- they walk back to their homes, often discovering white, pale, bloodless faces, buried in the snow.
But it is the survival of the fittest after all.
It's always cold. Never warm. The sun is bright and shining all day, but never warm. The only warmth they get is from their woollen coats and the fire. The fire, the fire, the fire- they worship it. Red, brown, golden, burning raging burning flames.
But she finds the place beautiful.
Beautiful in a strange, wonderful way- the white snow, the bright warmthless sun, the patient wait for the end. The end, the end, the end, that's what you wait for in this village. The end, the end, the end, the old are envied, not pitied. The end, the end, the end, every birth begins with weeping.
The end, the end, the end. Rin doesn't want to die.
She clutches the rope tightly and pulls. Her muscles groan at the heaviness, but she tugs as hard as she can. Slowly, slowly, the bucket filled with water inches up. The sun hasn't risen yet, and Obaa-san always takes a bath before sunrise. So it's her job to run down to the lake and bring water for her morning ritual.
It's freezing cold. Rin wonders why Obaa-san can't wait till mid-morning- they can heat the water for her bath. Ito-san always tries to get her to wake up later, to leave the house less, but Obaa-san is obstinate. She has always gone to the temple before sunrise, and would continue to do so even if her creaking, aging bones refuse to comply.
The bucket rises up, swinging precariously from side to side, as she lifts it. Tiny droplets fall back into the lake, the pitter-patter the only sound besides the blowing wind and rustling leaves.
Rin sighs, and drops to the ground when the bucket is finally on land. There are servants at home to this kind of work- her father is a Daimyo after all. But Obaa-san is strangely paranoid about the servants; she always thinks they're planning on killing her. While Obaa-san is definitely taking it too far, Rin isn't surprised; the air in Japan tense, as if awaiting a storm. Particularly in the household of a Daimyo.
The grass is prickly and wet, and she shivers, wrapping her hands around herself. The lake is at the edge of the village, a few fields away from the estate. Almost everyone in the region is dependent on it, but this autumn has been particularly cold- perhaps the lake would freeze completely in winter. Even now there is a thin sheet of ice over its surface.
The sun will rise soon, she has to move fast. Pushing herself slowly up, as her body protests, she hears whistling.
Rin smiles. There is only one person in this village who ever whistles.
Teppei is the son of the Sake seller, who lives in the edge of town. Obaa-san always tells her to stay away from that man, something to do with delirium and hysteria. But Teppei is a nice boy, and she likes him immensely.
He greets her with that kind smile of his. "Yukimura-chan," he says courteously. "How are you?"
Rin smiles at him and takes hold of his hand. "I'm fine, Teppei- kun." His brown eyes look at her softly and affectionately. He always calls her Yukimura-chan for some reason, even though she has known him all her life. Perhaps it was because he was just the son of a trader, and she was the daughter of a Daimyo- the notion of class and propriety has always been ingrained in them.
But he is just Teppei to her.
"Do you need anything?" he asks indulgently. Rin smiles at him mischievously, and Teppei sighs. "I'm not going to carry the bucket for you," he says sternly, and Rin pouts. Kiyoshi Teppei is a big man, and the village's finest Kenjutsu player. Strong, broad shouldered, and with warm brown eyes, Teppei is one of the last young men left in the village.
The Shogunate is recruiting all the young men in the villages. Difficult times are coming for them, and orders are flowing out from Edo. Especially for talented swordsmen; the Shinsengumi is searching for new members.
Teppei is supposed to join them in the coming months. Rin is aware that by summer, or even earlier, he would pack his bags and head to the sword schools of Edo. He would join Hyuuga and Izumi, who had left that spring. Teppei would have left sooner, but the certain familial ties held him back.
"You think far too lowly of me," Rin says innocently. "I would never ask that of you." Teppei lets out a laugh. "Of course not," he replies mock seriously. Rin shoots him a carefree grin, and carefully lifts the bucket from the ground. Obaa-san would be waiting for her.
Teppei accompanies her towards the estate. "I have to see your father," he explains, taking the bucket from her hands, much to her joy. "There's a message for him." His father's Sake shop also doubles as a rest house for travellers, and by extension, Teppei also acts as the messenger boy for the village. Rin's house is at the outskirts of the village, with acres and acres of land under the family name. The Yukimuras have been Daimyos for a long time, ever since the Shogunate was first established in Edo Castle. Her father is the feudal lord of the entire district, covering seven villages just like this one. It totaled up to at least 10,000 Koku. Her brother, of course, would inherit the position upon his death, and Rin would be married off to the son of another Daimyo of another district. Her life is already planned out till the end.
She finds it hard not to be resentful.
The message is from Kyoto. Rin is surprised. Kyoto is the imperial capital- what would the emperor's house want to do with her father?
"Why didn't the messenger go directly?" she asks curiously.
Teppei shrugs. "The messenger just left a letter. He didn't want to see Yukimura-sama."
He shows her a large scroll, stuffed in his bag, with a Sake bottle. Rin desperately wants to read it, but knows it is not in her place.
"But why are you coming this early?" she asks. Her father doesn't wake until after sunrise.
"He wanted the message to be delivered as soon as possible," he replies. "I will wait until Yukimura-sama awakes, and deliver it immediately." Rin wonders what could be so urgent. Their part of Japan was a sleepy one, far away from the tension of the Shogunate in Edo. She hears whispers about it from the other travellers who stay in the village, or who come to her father. The capital is getting restless. There are conflicts between the Shinsegumi and the people, fights and bloodshed.
She hears rumours that the end is coming; the Shogun is about to fall.
Of course none of that could be happening; the emperor is revered, but weak. The ultimate power is still with Edo and the Daimyos. Her father isn't worried at all about the rumours, even though she has heard him discussing with the other officials about the Metsuke suppressing rebellions in the countryside. But-
-a letter from Kyoto is still unexpected.
She changes the topic. "Are you excited for the Kenjutsu tournament?" she asks him, finally leaving the banks of the lake, and turning into a wet, icy path. Teppei adjusts his hold on the bucket. "Of course!" he says brightly. Happily. His brown eyes twinkle like they always do when they talk about the sport. Teppei was one of the only Kenjutsu practitioners who played for the sheer joy of the ways of the sword. The others learnt it as a skill, to become part of the Samurai, but Teppei learnt it because he loved the blades, and swings, and sparring.
Rin smiles fondly. The Kenjutsu tournament is the last gathering of all the villages of the area until next spring. And the last time she will ever see Teppei wield the sword in front of her.
They reach the edge of the estate. A large wooden gate blocks their path, ornate dragons and other mythical creatures carved all over it. The name, 'Yukimura', proudly hangs from the top. Teppei stops. He bows lightly before her, before handing her the bucket. She sighs softly. Propriety will prevent them from talking further.
She enters the estate first. Turns back, to wave wildly to Teppei, who just smiles and raises his hand.
"Tell me about your meeting later!" she says just loud enough for him to here.
He cups his hands and replies, "Don't forget to work on your sparring techniques!"
She shakes her head in amusement, and walks into the estate. The first rays of the sun slowly begin to pour upon the earth, lighting up the snowy, white endless land, stretched in front of her. An imposing house looms in front of her, the many wind chimes twinkling in the slight breeze. Rin carefully walks across the garden, the little pond frozen, and the many bonsai trees dying. When spring comes, Obaa-san will breathe life back in here, with her wrinkled hands guiding the flowers to bloom and birds to sing.
Until then, the white death continues.
She enters through the side-entrance to the women's quarters. Rin brushes her kimono lightly, trying to ease out the wrinkles. Obaa-san's room was just across the corner. The house is silent, the deathlike silence of winter. Most of the servants aren't even awake yet, and if they are, they would be in the kitchens or in the fields.
Rin inches into her grandmother's room.
The thin paper walls rustle as she enters, sliding open the door. Obaa-san is sitting on the floor, her grey hair tied in a stern bun, and her eyes shut- meditating. Rin tiptoes to the other end of the room, sliding the door open, to reveal an enclosed area, open to the sky. She places the bucket right next to a large rock, along with a towel, and quietly slides the door close.
As she tries to leave the room undetected, her grandmother calls out, "You are late." Her voice is razor sharp, and Rin attempts not to flinch. Obaa-san opens her eyes to look at her. They are crystal blue, the blue of the lake during summer, the blue that is signature of the Yukimura family, the blue that Rin has inherited herself.
She turns around slowly. "Sorry, Obaa-san." She bows before her. Obaa-san scrutinizes her carefully, before shutting them again. "Tell your brother to get ready for his class," she says dismissively.
"Of course, Obaa-san." Rin straightens herself. Turns around slowly, and leaves the room, with her dragon of a grandmother meditating behind. The cold breeze blows through the windows of the wooden walls of the house. Her red and green kimono rustles slightly. Her brother's room is in the other side of the house, and he'll probably be awake already, practicing his kanji.
She smiles bitterly. She's avoided her sibling for a while now, but it's time to meet the perfect older brother.
The wind agrees with her resentment.
.
.
.
.
Kiyoshi Teppei takes a deep breath in before sliding the door open.
The messenger had given him very strict instructions not to deliver the letter to anyone else but the Daimyo himself. The man was very frenzied when he arrived, and the way he thrust the letter in his direction implied that it carried very important news. Kiyoshi is curious about the contents, but not curious enough.
Seeing Rin was a nice change though; it would be the last few months he would get to see her. The letter of admission from the Seirin sword school had arrived; he would join Hyuuga and Izumi soon. Perhaps even see Riko.
Yes Riko, he missed her.
The tea room is empty. Ito-san, the head of the staff, informed him that the Daimyo would meet him as soon as he possibly could, but Kiyoshi knows that wouldn't be for a while. The chief had not been very welcoming. But Kiyoshi couldn't blame him; the Daimyo probably got hundreds of requests for meetings from the villagers. There was some tense arguing, but Kiyoshi emerged victorious. Of course he just had to mention that the letter was from Kyoto.
The house is as cold and imposing as it has always been. Before they closed the doors to all the peasants, Kiyoshi would come here to learn Kenjutsu from the master who taught Yukimura- kun. All of them had learnt from Aida-san, until of course, the uprisings began to happen.
Aida-san and his family moved to Edo, to be closer to the schools, and also to the Shogunate. The Samurais were bearing the brunt of most of the attacks. Riko had of course left with them, and Hyuuga accompanied them for extra safety.
He admires the paintings on the wall. They were pictures of the lake down by the village, soft blue and white. A tall, pink heron waded through the waters, holding a fish in its beak. His eyes roam about the details in the movement of the water, when he hears the door slide open.
The Daimyo is a short man with a long grey beard, dressed in an expensive white and purple Yukata. He is not imposing in a physical sense, but his presence certainly fills the room. His slightly dulling bright blue eyes gaze at Kiyoshi impassively. Behind him, Ito-san enters, sliding the door closed behind him.
Kiyoshi straightens; perhaps he didn't have to wait at all.
Standing up immediately, he bows in front of the Daimyo, until the man gestures for him to stop. Yukimura-sama seats himself on the other side of the wooden table, fluidly, almost elegantly. Kiyoshi feels like a clumsy oaf in front of him.
He sits down himself, after a small moment of uncertainty. Ito-san stands just behind the Daimyo.
For a moment there is silence, and then he speaks.
"I am informed you have a letter for me."
His voice is deep and guttural. Kiyoshi takes in a deep breath. Speaking to the Daimyo is a huge honor, something a peasant like him cannot even hope for. Yukimura-sama's face is impassive. Kiyoshi cannot tell whether he is irritated to have to see him, or genuinely uncaring.
Kiyoshi fumbles slightly with his bag. He can feel the Daimyo's stare on the back of his head. He slides the scroll on the table towards the Daimyo, and bows his head. Wrinkled hands take the letter for him, and he hears the rustle of paper as the scroll is opened.
The room is silent. Kiyoshi wishes the house was a little warmer. But the Han has always been curiously a cold and detached place. The village is a little brighter and inviting. Maybe that is why Rin spends as much time as she can away from here. Growing up in the family of the Feudal Lord cannot be easy.
"The messenger was adamant that I give this to you as soon as I can, Daimyo-sama. I am sorry for the disturbance." He bows even further. He can feel his neck strain slightly.
The Daimyo gestures his hand vaguely, engrossed in the letter. Kiyoshi straightens thankfully. He cannot remember the last time he had seen the Daimyo, perhaps it was the last Kenjutsu lesson with Aida-san.
A few minutes later, the Daimyo slams the scroll on the table. "Ito, get me some paper," he commands. Ito-san immediately bows and leaves the room quickly. Kiyoshi wonders whether he too should stay or leave.
The Daimyo addresses his dilemma. "Who delivered this?" he asks harshly, his blue eye glinting slightly. "He did not leave a name, my lord." Kiyoshi is nothing but truthful. The man only left the sealed scroll with the store that night. He had left immediately with the instructions for delivery.
"What did he look like?" the Daimyo questions again. Kiyoshi considers his question carefully. "He was wearing the royal emblem, my lord."
The Daimyo's eyes flash angrily. Kiyoshi can see the muscles around his face tighten. His eyes fall on the scroll; what could possibly be in the letter that would cause such a reaction in the Daimyo?
The door slides open. Ito-san had returned. He carefully places some yellowing parchment on the table, along with a bottle of ink, and a thin, engraved pen. He then moves back and stands in his old position.
The Daimyo stays still for a moment, before gracefully picking up the pen. Kiyoshi watches silently for fifteen minutes as the Daimyo neatly writes down a letter on the paper. He cannot make out what is written, but catches the word emperor a couple of times.
Emperor? Emperor Akashi? Kiyoshi wonders confusedly.
A cold gust blows in through the open window ruffling the papers. Kiyoshi's back begins to hurt from having to sit so stiffly. He glances up at Ito-san. He stands straight and unmoving, like suit of armour. The only sound in the room is from the scratching of the nib of the pen on the paper.
Kiyoshi aches to move once more. He decides to practice some slicing techniques when he gets home.
After what seems like an eternity, the Daimyo places the pen down. He hands the freshly written letter to Ito-san, who blows lightly on the paper, before rolling it into a cylinder, and slipping it into the seal of the Yukimura Daimyo House.
The Daimyo stares unflinchingly at his face. "You are the Sake seller's son aren't you?"
Kiyoshi nods respectfully. "Yes, my lord."
"And you are also skilled in the art of Kenjutsu?"
"Yes, my lord."
The Daimyo considers him thoughtfully. "Have you not joined a swords school yet?"
Kiyoshi says quietly, "No, my lord. There were certain….issues."
He is purposefully vague. He should not be, considering the man before him wields incredible power. The Daimyo isn't someone you could play or joke with, or keep secrets from.
However, the man doesn't seem very interested. He gestures for Ito. "How much did the messenger offer you to deliver this?" he asks curtly, cutting off the stream of small talk. Kiyoshi is slightly taken aback, but answers truthfully. "Five gold coins, my lord."
"I will give you ten. Now deliver this letter to the Royal property."
The royal property? Kiyoshi is confused. The Akiyama estate had not been in use for years. It was the last of the Emperor's personal property outside Kyoto, large enough to even rival the Daimyo's. But the last time any royalty had visited the estate was nearly fifty years ago, when the imperial power was still strong.
Kiyoshi takes the scroll anyway. He stands up, as if this was his cue to leave. He bows deeply in front of Yukimura-sama.
The Daimyo's blue eyes look at him gravelly.
"Hand it to the chief of staff. Inform him that the Emperor's son will be arriving soon."
The cold wind blows in harshly.
Akashi Seijuro is coming to the mountainside.
A/N: So here are the explanations-
Daimyo: Basically Japanese feudal overlords who ruled over large stretches of land in the Edo period (17th century to mid-19th century), only subordinate to the Shogun.
Shogun: Military governors who ruled over Japan in the same period. They were the de-facto rulers, even though the Emperor officially appointed them. Kind of like Governor-generals, except they exercised a lot more power.
Shogunate: A government under the Shogun. In this story, referring particularly to the period towards the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate.
Kenjutsu: Japanese swordsmanship. Originated with the Samurai. More modern sports like Kendo include some Kenjutsu.
Shinsengumi: Special police force, during the late Shogun period.
Edo: Older name of Tokyo
Koku: Unit of measurement
Metsuke: Part of the administration of the Shogun. Managed affairs of the Shogun, controlled Daimyos, and were in charge of discovering any signs of rebellion in the empire.
Han: Estate
That's about it, I think. Any questions? Feel free to leave a review or PM me with them!
I'd love to know how you think about this so far! REVIEWS ARE AWESOME *-*
Lots of love,
Dragonseatingme
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.