A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey! I'm not dead! Hurray!
Look, I know, it's been a while. But life got in the way. But hey, new chapter. Hope you like it. Like I've already said, by the way, this might be a little triggering for some. Be warned.
Title: Misses Brightside
Genre: Romance, angst, historical
Alternative Universe: Historically Accurate, with emphasis on history
It had been two days; two long, tortuous days of him second-guessing and thinking himself haunted, after the incident. That was how he had dubbed it, the incident. It was quite jarring. He'd barely slept that night and the next one was no different; he almost started sweating, too once or twice. The thought of why this would happen was what kept him up at night and how he could be so transparent.
But then it happened.
The lord, Kurasawa-sama, chased him down and finally caught up with him at a corridor. Saitou kindly took a bow and stopped so the lord could talk to him; instead though, he asked if he could follow him. Almost shrugging, Saitou went after him, with slow but big steps. They came to a halt one corridor and two turns later, in front of a...wall. Only, it wasn't really a wall, but a door; a very well hidden one, that one had to know it was there to pull it out and then to the side, to reveal a room behind it, equipped with writing equipment, a desk, a couple of sitting pillows here and there, as well as a bookcase, filled with scrolls and letters and more writing utensils.
It was a plain, square scribe's room, with the sole exception of a door leading to the garden, drawn wide open to let the sun in and right in the middle of it...her.
Saitou felt like he was hit straight in the chest by a very wild horse; the wind got knocked out of his lungs, the very moment he lay eyes on the woman bent over the desk, making use of it, while delicately holding her kimono sleeve not to stain it with ink. She was dressed plainer and her hair were a knot at the bottom of her head but it was unmistakably the spectre.
Takagi Tokio.
She was right in front of him, in all of her every-day glory, acting as a scribe to the lord, hidden away in a secret room, for some bizarre reason. If he didn't value his pride as high as he did, he'd have gawked by now. And when she had the audacity to act surprised by their entrance and then, like the picture perfect of grace, put a stray tuft of hair behind her ear and stand, he clenched his jaw hard, swallowing all the lines he wanted to spew at her.
"Fujita, I never managed to introduce to you my most valuable and valued help: this is Takagi Tokio, daughter of my late friend Kojuuro and, as of half a year ago, my own daughter. Adoptive, yes, but just as cherished."
He took a bow, not too deep for the importance the lord bestowed upon her, but quite deep for Saitou's standards, and she had the decency to return it.
"From what I gather, you must have met before today, yes? A long time ago, in the capital; when you were both different people."
Saitou felt his blood boil. The lord's nonchalance; Tokio's knowing smile—he could have throttled her! He was going around his mind in circles, fearing he was seeing things or experiencing supernatural occurrences, but it was, in fact, all the doing of one woman and her whims!
"We have met before, indeed," she spoke the words with importance "and this is the first time in a very long time we get to see each other again. Fujita-san," she said it in a way "it's nice to see you again."
"Tokio-san," he acknowledged her politeness, "it is fortunate to see you in good health." She nodded, appreciatively.
They exchanged some more pleasantries, until, it appeared, they were to the lord's satisfaction; then, patting him encouragingly on the back, he decided to take his leave yet chose to allow them to remain in the same room, just the two of them. Quite daring, if anyone asked him, but lately everyone seemed to forgo useless ceremony, so maybe it wasn't all that ridiculous. Besides, if it was because of her that he got to keep his sword, then the lord already knew his old name and probably trusted him with his charge.
So, the lord closed the door behind him and left; Saitou dared look at her only after he was sure he could no longer hear Kurasawa's footsteps and when he did, he watched the smile die on the woman's lips instantly.
Good. She seemed to catch on.
"Are you out of your mind?"
The least she could say was that maybe that was the last thing she had expected to hear coming out of his mouth. "P, pardon me?"
"It's a simple question."
"W-why?"
"These past few days I kept seeing you around, calling out to you, but you never responded; just kept appearing and disappearing. Then two nights ago you materialised out of thin air, spoke cryptically and disappeared again. I thought I was going crazy!"
"O, oh" she went deep red "forgive me, I never really saw or heard you...only from afar and..."
"And what? And what do you mean only from afar? You were pretty close the night you decided to just kiss me for no reason."
She turned so red, she could have been a boiling lobster. "D-don't say it like that, it sounds very misleading!"
"Oh, but it wasn't?" He scoffed. "I mean, you are a young, well-bred woman who had been raised in high society. I actually believed I was imagining things rather than believe you could so unceremoniously act as forward as you did, because you know better."
She was close to exploding, fearfully looking over her shoulder all the time. "Don't..."
"What possessed you to do it on the first place—or say all of those things."
"I'm very sorry, I didn't think it would have such a negative impact."
"Oh." He crossed his arms. "And what thoughts, pray tell, went through your head, if any went through it on the first place?"
Mortified, she still had the sense of self to purse her lips, a little offended. "I simply thought you looked too despondent and attempted to lift your spirits; that was all."
"Do you not know the etiquette—?"
"Oh, do not speak to me of etiquette, Saitou Hajime," she reprimanded him, as if she had already heard enough "I had and have upheld it far longer and better than you or any of your friends and colleagues ever did; I simply acted in a way that I thought it was more beneficial."
"You should know better than to go around kissing strange men in the middle of the night; it could have been someone else in my place and it could have gone very badly for you."
"Wh—I don't go around kissing..." she seemed to lose her cool, too. "I only did it this once, and simply because you looked worryingly sad and I had no other way to make you feel better."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have tried; has no one ever told you not to poke your nose into other people's business?" he accused and she had to look away at that, knowing she had definitely been overstepping.
"But you were—"
"Telling me how pathetic I looked over and over again and how you took pity on me, won't do much for my temper, I should warn you."
"I never said you looked pathetic!"
"Only so much so that it forced you to act in such an irregular way."
"And I did not took pity on you; me wanting to help is not the same as taking pity."
"Why would you want to help me?"
"Maybe because I watched you risk your life countless times in front of my very eyes, day and night, for far too long without ever being able to help or do anything about it; and now that I finally can do something about it, you ask me to remain idle?"
"Are you under the impression my life is in danger now, too?"
She was about to retort something very scathing, from the look on her face, but he watched her freeze and hold her tongue in what appeared to be a split second decision. He couldn't decide if that angered him even more or not. Scratch that; he did know: it infuriated him, for no other reason than the implications behind it.
That's when she watched his chest rise and his eyes zero in on her and she turned nearly white; there was a silent stand-off of glaring, heaving and constant gauging of the other's reaction as both alternated between a wide range of emotions but dared speak none, yet.
Slowly but steadily, he visibly deflated and it took no small effort on his part, after what he just heard. Why, he didn't know; people don't get to him, not like that. She did; her words anyhow. For some reason, her effort to help in whatever poor way she decided to do it, simply enraged him. Why? It had to do with the fact her words two nights ago rang a little too true, too close to home. But he wasn't going to admit that to her, not now.
"Whatever you think my issue is, you have no right to interfere," he nearly spat the words but discounted nothing from his high and mighty attitude. "I should ask you to refrain from prying into my personal affairs, no matter your opinion on it."
"I have never seen a person so upset at being told they are appreciated before," was all she said, with a certain edge in her voice "but as you wish, Hajime-san."
"It is Fujita-san now," he corrected her, as collected as she had yet to see him today after the lord's departure "I'd thank you to remember it."
"Indeed," she conceded, trying to be apologetic but he could tell it wasn't as sincere as she wanted it to sound "forgive me; and I shall not pry again." She took a small bow. "Now, if you'll allow me, I would like to inform you why the lord brought you here."
Ah; so his hunch was right. This wasn't a simple meeting.
"The lord informed me you talked about how you can make yourself useful; he in fact pointed out you were the one who went to him. Well, he finally decided what he'd like you to do: you and two to four more of the men that you can recommend to the lord with confidence, are to keep watch over the women in the household."
He took a very long moment to gather his wits about him, meaning not to glare anymore or say anything even more scathing, but he could help the small quip. "And you decided to let me know after this conversation?"
For the first time, she felt her temper flare. "You left me no window of opportunity to do so earlier, sadly."
He did hold his tongue to that, mainly because she was right. His sigh was monumental though. "So I'm stuck baby-sitting you, is that it?"
"...I can always ask the lord to assign another person when I'm around."
"Do you think me a simpleton? If he asked of you to convey these news and had the confidence to leave you alone in a room with me, it means he trusts your judgment, although why that is, currently escapes me. Also, I am aware there are currently at least seven women in this household, servants not included. And if he tasked you with informing me and asking me to form this three or five man team, it means he wants me to lead it. He probably trusts you will make an assessment of my own skills, too and how capable I still am of actually doing this; you, whom he views as his own daughter and puts faith in you. If he doesn't want me to keep an eye on you in particular, I'll eat my sword."
Despite her displeasure, she had to admit, he was exceedingly smart; the rumours were true, it seems, for once. She had talked with Hijikata a number of times and she could safely say he rivaled him in wit. How unexpected.
"No need for any digestive tricks, you are correct; he is also aware we were introduced to one another back in the capital, so he thinks it best. I repeatedly told him we weren't familiar with one another, but he said that wasn't needed."
"See? He wants me to be around you because you're the favourite and he thinks me the most skilled." She nodded. "So if you ask him to reassign me, he'll either think I did something to you, or that I asked it of you and neither one is to my benefit."
Her equivalent of a shrug was looking away, non-committal. Blood rushed to his head again but he fought the urge to blow up on her...for a second time.
"So, no, I'll manage. I've dealt with much more unpleasant duties than this with my head held high," you will not defeat me, was silently supplemented by the way he looked at her, as if this entire thing was beneath him.
She contained herself to a very stiff bow, with a terse smile following. He did not follow her example. "That is, unless it is you who does not want my presence around her, in which case, go right ahead."
"I am not a child," she scoffed "nor am I childish. I hold no grudges. And I know for a fact you are the most skilled swordsman in this household, so what reason do I have to try and dissuade him? I was only trying to be convenient."
"Don't," he discouraged her in a deep voice.
"Very well then; consider yourself notified. You have twenty four hours to choose your two to four people."
"I already know who they're going to be and how many."
"Then feel free to notify the lord," her voice held the most formal, unaffected tone she had ever heard herself employ. "You can attend to the rest of your affairs now, Fujita-san."
Heh; that was the politest "get the hell out" he had ever been told, so, with a smirk forming, he gave a small bow and did as he'd been told, slowly walking out.
Once she was quite certain he was gone and would not be coming back, she exhaled sharply. She felt and quite honestly was defeated; by his stubbornness, his rigidness and his complete lack of understanding—or, should she have said, his complete misunderstanding of her intentions. How could he have read the situation so wrong? And why was he so willing to vilify and nullify her? He accused her of pitying him and thinking him a lesser man, but it could not have been further from the truth: she hadn't allowed him to keep his sword on his person out of pity, but respect. Respect was all she felt towards him, for all the difficulties he had to endure long before, during and after his capture. In a way, she had felt partially responsible for no other reason than her representing the ruling class and the people he needed to please—though, to be perfectly honest, he never did seem all that worried about pleasing her, in particular. He still tried his best to defend her though. Then again, it wasn't just her, but every single person he ever knew or didn't know that was holed up in Wakamatsu as well as his own beliefs and ethics that he struggled to protect with a burning passion.
He'd been more than admirable; he still was and she would have said so to him, had he asked or tried to be civil with her. But no, he had to be like...this. And yet, she still respected him. Mmm, this was so frustrating! She simply wanted to slap her hands around his mouth and squeeze. It. Shut. But she would have to content herself with the satisfaction of knowing he would hate every single second he'd be around her. A little sad, a little disappointed and a lot deflated, she went back to her writing.
Hajime though was silently fuming all the way till he reached the three people he had in mind; when he did get to them, he sobered up easily, making the transition from angry – at himself, at the woman, at his predicament – to...his every day, unimpressed scowl. They were in the presence of many more men, but it was no problem to steal them away, for they, much like him, did not appreciate lesser men. And, much like him, had gotten used to different company. Thus, when he gestured for them to follow him, with but a nod, they readily did.
"I know you know who I am; and so far, my identity has yet to be discovered by others."
A little surprised by the sudden and quite forward opening from the usually cold and calculative man, they nodded in agreement, wondering what he was getting at.
"That means I can trust you."
Alright, they all got a sense of what he wanted: to share something important. It just so happened to be "a duty. The lord asked me to lead a little team of my own choosing to protect the women in the estate; I decided it was going to be you three. I will be leading it as your captain. Do you mind?"
They started looking at one another; silent looks were exchanged between them, keeping the former Shinsengumi captain on ice, until, finally, one of them smiled. "Only if you suddenly start wearing cerulean again."
That earned them a knowing smirk and a nod of recognition; after all, they put him in a good mood, as he got a nice, much-needed, boost of his ego: he was right to choose these men, clear as day. His instincts did not lead him astray.
"I promise to stick to browns and greys," he almost winked "so follow me to the lord, to show our faces."
They easily walked after him.
"What are your new names?" he asked out of the blue, mid-way. It had just occurred to him that, much like him, they too would have been renamed, thus he could no longer call them what he used to.
"They are not too different; after all, we weren't that important. We simply took different last names. So that makes me Hazuki Honda," the one with the long black hair informed, the same one who had handled all of the talking so far "this is Katsuya Saiki," the one built like a wrestler "and this is Nishijima Heisuke," the shortest and leanest of the three who had his entire head shaved bald.
He nodded, said nothing and they all kept walking to their destination. It was the longest walk they had to make, seeing they were enjoying their time in the gardens and the lord's quarters were on the other side of the house, for security purposes. Once they arrived at the door, Saitou made himself known and a cheerful, double enter later, they were standing in front of the man...and his charge, Tokio.
Great, he drawled, exhausted just by seeing her again.
Once all the formalities were expended and they all properly relayed their names to the lord, the smile on his face became too apparent. "Seeing you are in the company of these three dependable-looking men, am I to assume this is your selection?"
"Indeed," he conceded, with a slight bow, more of a long nod, really.
"That's a great relief and what a coincidence," the man pleasantly continues the conversation "we were just talking about this with Tokio."
He turned to his charge, surprisingly giving her the room to talk and explain with but a movement of his head. "The reason the lord decided to form this little team, was because of the little sinister fact that was brought to his attention not two weeks ago, before you arrived: there was a certain woman who was being...courted rather vulgarly, by a certain man. You have met both," she added as a reassurance she wasn't making things up "and one would never think he would be capable of being so...disgusting, when no one's looking."
Tokio shook her head disapprovingly.
"The absolute worst part of this all is the woman never said anything and had he not been caught red-handed giving her those mortifying speeches, she wouldn't have said anything by herself. She's timid and non-confrontational; she also hates to even be involved in such a thing, even when she clearly isn't at fault."
The sigh that escaped her was monumental; the lord simple patted her back. She graced him with a smile for his efforts.
"I shall properly introduce her to you as soon as this evening, for I want her to be protected as soon as possible. She is naive and kind and needs all the help she can get."
"Was anything...done to her?" Saiki, the stocky one, asked.
"Thankfully, no and I can say it with confidence. I do know the certain man has been trying to get physical, regrettably, with some of the female staff though; to their credit, they shout and kick pretty hard so they have currently escaped him." She scoffed. "To think I have to speak these words...he is a plight in this household. But, with the influx of people we've had, I fear there are bound to be some who think like him."
"I know three," Heisuke quipped, a half-haunted look on his face "two were with me while we were traveling and the other one I met here."
"I know four; one I traveled with – must be the same you met here –" Honda informed, a little heavy-hearted "and three I met here."
"This is why we need you;" she was understanding and sad at the same time "we have too many women yet too few for the men to women ratio. I am sad to notice it happen; even worse, I start seeing other men getting influenced by their behaviour. Now," her tone changed completely, from motherly to business, almost instantaneously "I shall inform you of who the women you are supposed to be protecting are; how you shall keep them safe, it is between the four of you." She cleared her throat "Nine women from Aizu, four from Kyoto, and the one from Kobe; and plenty of female servants." She seemed to be thinking to herself. "The good news are the nine socialize with one another for the most part and the four from Kyoto and one from Kobe are as thick as thieves. The servants come and go but do stick together, too."
"I don't think the servants require special treatment," the lord waved her away, turning to the man "but you get the gist of it. Should I leave you five alone to get the details down?"
"There's no need, my lord," she informed him, turning to the men "we shall leave; we can walk and talk at the same time, yes?" There was something very imperative in the way she looked at them and no one dared talk back at her. "Let us go."
She bowed and gracefully walked out of the room, men following in tow. "What I wanted you to do, was keep a close eye on Hazuki-san, his movements and the same-minded people." She sighed, "but I don't think that's feasible. So I lobbied for the next best thing, which is this. There's no way Hazuki-san or his cronies will make a move while we flock together; it's the stragglers that worry me. And he's elevated harassment to an art form." Shaking her head in despair, she looked to the heavens. "Bastard's always watching, waiting for the moment one of his targets will walk away. So far I've seen him try to get An-chan and Sa-chan alone, as well as Kikyo—she's a servant, about twenty."
"The short one with the long black hair?" Honda asked for clarification.
She nodded. "The very same; it appears he has a type, for the other two look like that as well."
There was a collective pause at that moment; none walked a single step further nor broke the silence. They simply stood there, looking at one another, sharing a secret thought. Of course, the four men did look at one another, but the proper wording should have been, they all looked at Saitou, who stubbornly looked back at all of them, clenching his jaw. Because he knew, of course he knew, what they wanted to say, as well as, well, he was the one supposed to say it. He was the captain; he was the one with the most authority as well as leave to say what must be spoken.
So, after maybe a minute, during which Tokio kept making her eyes smaller and smaller, trying to figure out what was going on, Saitou sighed heavily and turned to face her, although he really didn't want to address her this day any more than he already had.
"What they are all thinking is, how did you escape him? You, too are short with long black hair and obviously much more involved with people in general, so it would have been even easier for him to get you alone." He turned to his men. "But that can easily be explained away as: there's no way he'd dare do something so forward to the same person who enjoys so much attention and trust from the lord. If it was her word against his, he'd be fed to the dogs. And he doesn't want to lose his comforts, evident by him not getting physical with any of the guests."
"Plus, I'd like to see him try; last time a man tried to touch me against my will, he earned himself a broken arm." She snorted with laughter. "Teruhime-sama taught me a lot more that table manners."
Alright; that did almost put a smile on his face, he was not going to lie.
"If that is the extent of your inquires, then I shall gather the women right now and inform them of the changes. They will be delighted!"
The rest of the way to the main hall was quiet, with everyone thinking about their new duties and what the meant for them or what it entailed. It was deemed very good for the lot of them, for they would now enjoy Tokio and, by extension, the lord's trust. It was a good place to be. Now they only had to make sure they all stayed safe, but they had no doubt their captain would lead them well. Lost in their thoughts as they were, they never noticed when they arrived and Tokio had gathered the women all around.
"Some are missing," she addressed them, thoughtful "one of you should come with me in case we run into trouble."
All three men tripped over themselves bowing and stammering, volunteering each other for the task; the woman had to suppress a wide smile. "Anyone is fine." Despite her calm reassurance, no one stopped looking to the ground or the person next to them.
Saitou sighed and shook his head. He moved to the door slowly, fixing her with a tired stare after he got there and realised she wasn't following. She did catch up fast though and bowed to the three men as she announced she was leaving. Always watching intently, he kept walking beside her, silent. She was, surprisingly, silent as well. She didn't engage in small talk, nor did she try to coax anything out of him—she would barely look at him the entire time. She simply kept walking forward, head held high, back not as straight as proper, looking around for the remaining women.
In the end, he wasn't needed – thankfully – but he didn't fault her for wanting someone with her. Thus, an hour later, all of the women were informed of the new status quo and the changes that were about to follow. Tokio had made a fine speech about predatory behaviours and how to avoid them and, most importantly, not to be afraid to speak up or even scream at the top of their lungs, if they feel threatened and no one is around the certain moment. She tried her best to make it perfectly clear these four men were there to help, but he noticed it in their clenched jaws or tight fists: skepticism and maybe fear permeated the room. With a smaller sigh this once, he pushed off the wall he was leaning against, and stood to his full height.
"And if all of that still doesn't convince you then maybe this will: I hate people but I love following orders; I have no one to impress but the one giving said orders and those are making sure you are kept safe. Also, whoever breaks the peace becomes a problem and I am to take care of those, too." He shrugged. "And I'm pretty good at it."
It wasn't what he said, but the way he said it that won them over: his absolute honesty was conveyed by his matter-of-fact tone and nonchalance. They would still look between themselves, biting their lips or opening their mouths and then closing them, without speaking, but their engagement certainly rose.
"Now I want you all to tell us your schedules for a typical day and a typical week, so my men and I can figure out the rotations. We will need your cooperation for this to work, so you're going to have to make some modifications. If you do as we tell you, you'll notice the difference in less than a week."
"He's right; we'll all do our best to keep you safe," Heisuke followed up, stepping forward "you just make sure you listen."
"Now please queue and tell us what we need to know. Those who have important things to do, take priority," Saiki advised and soon enough Tokio had started taking notes of everything.
Huh, look at that. She was actually useful. He wouldn't have guessed.
"I prepared a schedule for everyone."
Those were the first word's out of Tokio's mouth, as she handed the tall, serious man a piece of paper, the third she wrote on. As he glimpsed the rest, they were notes of ineligible handwriting that none other than her would ever be able to decipher, rightfully discarded.
"It is not obligatory you follow it, I only made suggestions that seemed the most convenient." Saitou skimmed it over quickly and he frowned approvingly. "Naturally, who takes which post is entirely up to you." She took a small but respectful bow and stood. "I shall leave you four to it then, for today you have no real duties and I am no one's responsibility but my own. Good evening."
They all rushed to wish her the same, bow and go out of their way to make her feel welcome; it was only Saitou who simply stood to the side to let her leave, quite somber. He inwardly sighed, watching her leave. The day...did not go well. Nothing went as expected and there were too many surprises for his tastes. If he didn't need to speak to these people for the next twenty minutes, in fact, he'd have already sauntered to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of sake and a cup and would have started walking back to his room and what little privacy that offered, he'd take it.
But it was not to be done, not this day. Shaking his head gingerly, he went through the schedule with the men and...shit. The more he studied it, the more he appreciated the way it was drawn up. She was smart. A thought of maybe he would need to apologise was born in his mind—but went away just as quickly. He didn't know her that well to do it anytime soon. Tomorrow was a new day anyway; hopefully, she'd had forgotten all about him.
Then again, how is someone supposed to forget about you when you're constantly next to them?
For the following month, with the exception of one day per week, the two of them spent together. He was her personal guard for no other reason that she was deemed the most important "asset" of the household. Truth be told, she had the most demanding and – should one consider socialising dangerous – unsafe daily routine. She would take care of provisions, sudden expenses, make sure relations between so many people were as smooth as possible, address problems, represent others to the lord and, in all of that, hold her clerical duties up to date, bending over her desk for more than two hours a day.
Her life was busy but boring; and so far uneventful. He couldn't have asked for anything better; the less problems, the less she had to speak to him. And, to her credit, she did not speak just to fill the silence. She liked it, it seems, as much as him, which was a happy turn of events.
"I know it is none of my concern, but, as I am sitting here writing this letter, I can't help but think...you too should write one, if you already haven't that is."
An eyebrow rose and his eyes turned to her; it was the only acknowledgment he offered, but he knew she noticed, because she too was furtively glancing his way for the past ten minutes. That's how much it took her to muster the courage to tell him this and it's approximately four minutes less than the previous time—he's been watching her.
"And what letter, pray tell, that is?"
"You see, I keep in contact with Teruhime-sama and Matsudaira-sama and I happened to inform them, some time ago, how a man fitting your description has arrived to our residence."
Hold it; she kept in contact with whom?
"Their last few letters hold inquires for that man. They say they would be delighted to be informed of his well-being and his general status in life. Now, I never explicitly verified your identity, but it is abundantly clear they wish to hear from you. So, maybe, you could write them a letter yourself."
There was a long stretch of silence. Despite the topic being personal, she was pleasantly surprised to see him receptive. He was frowning, yes, but not in a defensive way. She kept peeking at him mulling over his thoughts, for a long moment, before she dared speak again.
"I am absolutely positive they are dying to hear from you." She chuckled. "Even before you came around, they would ask me—the lord more discreetly than my lady, but my lady is always direct with me."
He said nothing, again, but his frown became smaller and his thoughts seemed to be getting in some sort of order.
"I can give you the desk to write your letters whenever you want, should you wish to; you can always do it in the privacy of your own room, but I doubt the other nine men you share it with will help."
She smiled, seeing his face and how perfectly it conveyed he was very against the idea of being caught in there with any sort of stationary – mostly because it would either get lost, stolen or broken –. "If you wish to pen these letters and decide this is the best option, I'd be happy to relinquish my seat to you for a while. I could write the letter, too, I am a scribe after all, but I think you wouldn't like that option."
"...I'd prefer to do it myself."
She nodded, understanding; he gave her a look.
Why was she doing this? Was she trying to make herself look even more important by revealing she had kept communication with those people or was she trying to appear nice by giving him a tip to make himself look good to them? His eyes had become small as he studied her face and just this once, she didn't look down. She met him head on and simply smiled, as if knowing something he didn't.
"I love my lady very much, still, and Matsudaira-sama; they had taken a special liking to you. I want them to know you are...healthy and trying. And I have a feeling you do wish to contact them as well, but just don't know how to go about it."
There it was.
The colour drained from his face almost entirely and he felt the pit of his stomach disappear. He thought about it...and she just answered it out loud. How? He felt transparent, all over again. There was anger welling inside him, irrationally, just as irrational as the fear she could see right through him. It was fortunate she had decided to look away just as she answered, otherwise she'd have picked a fight over it, because he had no idea what kind of face he was making, but he knew it wasn't friendly.
He said nothing else, just stood there, mutely, contemplating exactly where he had gone wrong...and exactly what he should write to the lord. After all, if Tokio was giving him so much trouble, she should compensate somehow. This seemed like a good start.
"I am currently informing her ladyship, Teruhime-sama, that there is an event to be held at our estate, which she would dearly enjoy."
Her voice snapped him out of his swirling thoughts and caused him to look at her again; it'd been longer than five minutes, but this was the second time in the same day she spoke to him for social reasons and it was surprising. Her lips curled upwards in a teasing manner when she noticed she had his attention.
"She did always love dressing up and walking about a room; and tonight something similar is happening. Only tonight...everyone is invited." her eyebrows wiggled. "Women included."
Realisation hit him; not only was he not to meditate or simply rest this night, he was to extend himself because of his duties. Perfect. And by "perfect" he meant he wanted to throttle someone and by "someone" he meant preferably her, the bearer of ill tidings. Her giggle made his murderous intent flourish.
"She did always say useless formalities only got in the way of growth..."
"Do you remember why I'm here?" She clicked her tongue. "There are certain men in this household who will treat this as the perfect opportunity to harass your friends, why are you so exited?"
"Because if we manage to catch them red-handed, especially since they have all been warned before, we can easily get rid of them."
His eyes became small. "Was this your idea or her ladyship's?" Because this screamed Teruhime from a mile away.
"Mine..." A smirk. "But we did spend a lot of time together; they are very much the same at this point."
"Two of you or two of her; neither sounds promising."
"You'd be breaking her heart, if she could hear you; she has such a high opinion of you, for some reason."
It rolled off her tongue easily and naturally; yet this was the first time she ever insulted him, backhandedly, too. He remained there, incredulously staring at her daring speech. She couldn't help the faint smile, full of pride, for finally saying something like that as well as standing up for herself a little. Shaking his head, he looked away. Fine; it was kind of cute, her sense of achievement. He would let it slide.
.
"Fujita-san, stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Doing that thing with your eyes."
"I'm not doing any—" He forced his face into a very neutral scowl. "—thing with my eyes."
Her smile was enough to irk him all over again; she knew, hence, the smile. But, being concentrated on her piece of paper as she was, legs folded underneath her, he found no chance to glare and make sure she got the full burnt of it. Especially since he was a little way away, on the other side of the open door that led to the beautiful garden. And because the room was so well situated, she didn't need a candle before sunset, much like now.
"You're doing it again."
He looked away this once; she gave him a look, trying to discern the issue. What did he want? He wouldn't say, naturally, he never did, she always had to guess with this man. Looking down at her desk, she started writing again...and then she stopped. It'd been a week since she'd made her suggestion and so far he hadn't asked her—for anything. She considered. "Hmmm," she produced a long drawl "I feel a little caged today; I wish to stretch my legs." She cracked her neck and proceeded to roll her shoulders. Pushing her shoulder blades back and her neck forward, small popping sounds could be heard. "My wrist hurts, too, from all that writing. I shall proceed to take a walk about the garden. Not too far," she raised a flat palm when he moved to follow her "I will be constantly within your field of vision. Allow me to simply walk for a while, please."
He watched her very closely for the first five minutes, trying to discern her intentions, but when he watched with his own eyes she did not dare walk farthest than the "confines" the garden naturally provided: a nice, large bench made of rock on the far right as well as a small stream bridged by a small wooden arch on the left, with grass and a single Sakura tree in the middle.
"Maybe you should have a change of pace, as well; can't help but watch you suffer standing all day. Why don't you sit down? Take my place. And if anyone walks in and asks what is going on, we'll tell them, just for an hour, I decided we should exchange duties." She chuckled, behind her hand. "I shall stand a vigilant guard at your side while you pen a most thrilling account of events to the lord and her ladyship."
Oh ho, she had caught him completely off guard; he looked at her as if truly seeing her for the first time, struggling not to gawk at how accurately she had predicted? Guessed? Understood? His issue. He hadn't fully came to terms with it himself, he was sulking for some reason; when she put it to words, it dawned on him. That's why he was restless these past few days and, in particular, hours. His jaw tightened; so did his fists, balls of nerves and...something corrosive at the pit of his stomach and the tip of his tongue. It was acidic even. He zeroed in on her and stared; hard.
Then, he deflated.
Without much thought, he sat in front of her writing station and got to work: he put her own unfinished letter carefully aside, took a new pen – a less tortured one –, filled the ink bottle that was less than half full and began giving shape to his thoughts. But not just thought, experiences, too—before he knew it, there was a whirlwind of news coming out of him, directed to both people Tokio goaded him to write. So many things to share, to give voice to, to ascertain, to fill in the gaps; and so many questions. They poured out of him like blood, like that time he was stabbed and couldn't make it to a med tent fast enough; so many things he wanted, needed to know, facts that needed checking and double-checking.
He wanted to know. Maybe if he had all the information, if he had the most perspectives, he could maybe come to a conclusion; a decision. About what to do with his life...
"Mmm," he heard her musing out loud, standing directly above him "such nice brush work. Look at those lines; many would be jealous of such decisive strokes."
He hadn't registered her arrival, but he decided it wasn't such a bad thing. "I write as I fight: with a steady hand."
"Aye, you should teach me; I'm trying my hand at archery."
"Buddha help us."
"I happen to be a very good shot; I just need, like you mentioned, steadier hands."
His eyes slid to her for the first time, putting the brush aside. When he noticed her offer was genuine, not accompanied by crooked smiles or teasing smirks, he decided to actually pay attention to her. "How good of a shot are we talking about?"
"I scarcely miss a target; but I haven't tried moving targets yet. Or moving and hitting a target; I need some help, still so...I'm asking for it."
Huh. This wasn't a bad deal; she'd learn a handy life-skill, she'd be more protected, thus he'd be less and less needed. Plus, he'd get to do something with the time he spent with her, other than stare at the wall, the outside, at the trees or whatever was opposite him, as they trudged through her boring duties and day. He turned to her fully, standing up; she took a step back and looked at him somber.
"I accept that duty. Make sure you have your bow with you tomorrow, at six o clock sharp; I shall wait for you, like always, at the end of the corridor. Don't be late. We'll go to the back, where we can train easier, so the earliest we get there, the better: no one will be around to bother us. Wear something less restrictive than a kimono; if you don't have proper clothing for archery, say so now and I'll see what I can do."
"I have the full gear," she informed, a little proud "I won't be late! I promise you won't regret this."
"I already am."
She pursed her lips, hands easily finding her hips; her foot almost tapped. And for the first time, he actually smirked, without malice. "Just don't be late, you busy-body."
"I, I really won't," she made the grand declaration and took a deep bow.
He simply shook his head; he wasn't lying, he was already regretting his decision. But not for the reasons one would usually associate with him. No matter, he accepted. And he would be held to his word.
.
"Teruhime-sama informed me you wrote both of them a letter; she was very exited to hear from you. So was his lordship."
"Focus on the way you're pulling the string."
"I am; can I not do two things at the same time? Besides, I simply informed you of something I thought you'd like to hear."
"And how would you know what I would like to hear or not?"
"Hmm? So the good opinion of others, for you, is not important to you? I mean, her ladyship even mentioned—hey!"
He nudged her elbow with his palm and she completely lost control of the bow; the string his her in the face, giving her a large red marking. Then, she noticed the weight on her back lifted and she saw her quill now clasped within his hands; her entire face turned a slightly brighter red. "Give it back please."
Despite her politeness, she was a little edgy, hand outstretched like a toddler, fingers making that universal motion. He dared her to try and take it back herself, with a smarmy look...and she jumped! He saw it coming. Skillfully, he turned in a way that dodged her completely, still holding it out of her reach but right in front of her face. She pouted, hands on her middle. He kept baiting her, with that look on his face, but she was surprisingly, holding her ground.
The standoff seemed to be coming to a favourable – for him – end, as a smile threatened to break through her pout.
"Please give it back?"
"If you agree not to speak about this again, I'll give it back."
She crossed her hands, as if suddenly this whole thing was beneath her. "I was only going to let you know they were both so happy, they replied immediately and hope for a swift reply on your end, too." She peaked at him, to see he was mildly amused. "Nothing else."
"..." He gave it back to her, looking mighty satisfied. "Must have been more exited to share the news with you though, because it's been two weeks and I have yet to receive a letter."
She stopped short and turned to look at him. "No; she told me she'd sent your letters before mine." They looked at one another surprised. "They should have been in your hands a week ago." They remained looking at one another worried, for a long moment; and then she sighed. "I know what happened." Shaking her head, she put her bow away. Once she was finished, she gestured for him to follow her; they took flight in an instant. "I am in charge of mail; or, should I say, was, until two weeks ago."
Then it all finally came together.
"When the lord decided to finally throw those men out – remember that affair? – I had to leave certain duties to someone else, so I could arrange their exits and all they affected. Receiving of the mail was one of them. Let us go check."
It took her no longer than five minutes, once she reached there, to find what the ladyship had written about. She held it out for him to see, looking unimpressed; the same look took over his face. Teruhime-sama, in all her excitement, forgot to address the letter in his new name, the one everyone known him as; instead, the one responsible for mail would have to look if someone by the name Yamaguchi Jirou resided in this house and – naturally – never having heard of the name, she or he would assume they were mistaken, or it was supposed for someone scheduled to come, as they did expect new arrivals. And so, it remained in administrative limbo, until she had to look.
"Here you go, Fujita-san."
"You and your bright ideas," he mumbled, but he seemed just a little brighter to have finally received his mail.
"But they work, don't they?" She stuck her chest out, back becoming straighter. "I kicked those men out; I found out what happened to your letter."
"Yet I am still saddled with you."
She made a face. "I cannot help everything; if the lord liked the arrangement, he liked the arrangement. I'm not the only one you have to be "saddled" with."
He rolled his eyes; right, not just Tokio, but whoever was deemed to be in the most "precarious" position. Someone decided to go into town? He'd chaperon. Did someone want to go for a walk outside the mansion? Yes, he had to make sure they didn't get themselves killed; depending on the number of people, the other three would have to follow—or some of them, anyway. But for the past two weeks, things were much better than the two previous months. He could breath easier; he had less bothersome things to do and more time to himself – as rarely the other women left the mansion – and he did find himself a nice hobby, teaching Tokio the bow. It was...something. And something was better than nothing.
He sighed. "Wait a second; how do you know I went by the name of Yamaguchi Jirou?"
Her smile was immediate. "I was around the lord long enough to hear...now, if you want us to cut this short and go indulge in your reading, I do not mind."
"We can take a break," was his diplomatic statement.
"Sounds reasonable."
They sat at a bench that was quite honestly a little hidden; one had to know their way around very well or hap upon it by accident to find it. It was her favourite place in the entire building and she had unwittingly shown it to him one day four weeks ago. It'd been a little difficult for her and she escaped there to rid herself of the stress...forgetting he followed closely; and was quite astounded to where she ran. He instantly fell in love with it: the stillness; the crisp air; the fragrance from the flowers. Amazing.
So, they headed there together; once he was seated, he broke the seal on the letter, while she tried stringing and un-stringing the bow repeatedly, like an exercise, just as he'd shown her on the first day. Hmm, she was becoming proficient with that, good for her. It was a harder bow than she was used to. Returning his focus to the words penned on the paper in front of him, he started reading. Small smiles and head shakes followed, as well as some honest surprise to what that woman got up to. And once Teruhime's was over, the lord's began.
As he read what Matsudaira-sama conveyed, his eyes became wider and wider; his shoulders squared and he was leaning into the paper more and more, so much so in fact, that his nose almost touched the thing! That was his wake up call. He stood straight; for some unfathomable reason, he looked around him furtively, as if to make sure Tokio didn't catch him reading it. But, what was he thinking? It was ridiculous. She couldn't know what was in this letter, but even if she did, somehow, why was he worried about her opinion on the first place? But he knew...she wouldn't like it. Why that bothered him, he did not know.
.
Tokio was running on the wooden floors, feet frantic to catch up in her tight kimono. She had just finished her evening tea with Kurasawa-sama...or, more accurately, she decided to wrap up her evening tea with Kurasawa-sama, in favour of going to Hajime—Fujita, whatever he went by these days, and finding out the truth of what the man had just told her. He couldn't be right. He couldn't. There was no way Hajime had accepted that post, not in a million years and she had to let him know that Kurasawa-sama was under the wrong impression, before something terrible happened.
She, naturally, let Kurasawa-sama know that he was probably mistaken or misunderstood his retainer's intentions but the man was very adamant that he didn't. Hence, her running around, trying to find him, to clear this up.
She'd been lucky to find him on her first try, outside, training his mind – as he always put it –, under a large tree. Eyes closed, he was sitting in seiza, palms open on his thighs. He seemed to be enjoying the silence and the slight breeze...taking a deep, calming breath, she moved towards him, steps as silent as she could make them. He would not want to be disturbed, not too much. But the peace needed to be broken, if she were to go anywhere with this.
She needn't speak in the end, for he seemed to have sensed her presence: his eyes snapped open and looked right at her. When it registered who the violator of his calm was, he seemed to be disappointed.
"Don't I see you enough during the day?" She tried not to toll her eyes too much. "Why do I have to be subjected to your presence even when I'm not supposed to?"
The calming breath did not work; it spilled out of her mouth before she could put it into carefully threaded sentences, hidden behind pretext and formalities: "Kurasawa-sama thinks you agreed to go to war on his behalf and lead his troops and that you're riding out tomorrow."
He blinked; she was breathless. He just stayed there, sitting down, looking at her. But then, he too released a breath and from slightly teasing his expression became neutral.
"And?"
"Obviously he's mistaken."
"How so?"
"Did you...not say no?"
"Should I have?"
She gaped at his casual tone. "Shouldn't you?"
"Why?"
She couldn't believe he was asking her that and with such a straight face. She opened her mouth wide, eyes following, to dispute him, but no sound came out; the improbability of it all, the audacity to ask her that, all left her speechless.
"In your own words, please..."
She made a couple of more tries, trying to articulate the sheer ridiculousness of what he was saying, but it didn't come out of her until the fifth: "Hajime, you were held captive for a year; you were not released until three or four months ago. And you were up in that temple, against your will, because you fought against the same people that are now asking you to join another fight, now on their side."
"If you recall, our side lost the war. Now it's all theirs."
"But they are using you."
"They let me live for this purpose exactly, I believe; I cannot just turn a blind eye."
"You can and most certainly should turn a blind eye to this fight. This is not a generalized call to arms! You can decline," she spelled it out for him, as if he was an infant. "You don't have to go there and, and," she searched for the right words for a second "subject yourself to all of that, all over again and for their sake. Hajime, please; you don't have to do something simply because the lord told you to. He won't be mad if you say no. He made it perfectly clear when I asked him, he's only looking for volunteers."
"I am aware."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"Because I want to."
"Why would you want to?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I thought you'd be tired of all the killing and the bloodshed by now!"
There was a resounding silence following her outburst. He remained perfectly still, trying to keep his composure.
"...you thought so, did you?"
"I did; I still do." there was emphasis in her answer. "I cannot believe you would willingly go into battle again. And for the same people that are responsible for the way things are now."
"We are one nation; our side might have lost, but our ethics endure. And in case you didn't notice, our original goal was realised, despite the actual fighting taking a different turn. There's no us or them anymore; it's just people."
"You can say that all you like, but I doubt you'll enjoy fighting side by side with the men that killed so many of your comrades; and vice versa! Which is why this is extremely dangerous, especially for you! You're well-known and people who fought against you definitely remember your face. What if you get attacked from within? Please consider your own safety, too. After all, if you happen to go missing under the command of a man who almost decided you shouldn't be alive barely a year ago, then he won't care. And you not coming back will be the least of their worries."
"I'll manage."
"You are not invincible; you survived many battles but how much loner will you be able to escape death when you're always running into it? If you keep fighting—"
"Fighting is what I do best and I happen to like being the best."
"So you enjoy the senseless killing of war?"
"Of course not!" He tried to endure it this entire time, but he finally snapped! He shot up from his meditation spot, grabbing his sword by force of habit and waving it along with his words. "I do not enjoy killing, I don't like being known for being the go-to guy for these things but it is what it is."
"No, it isn't! You can say no; that is not your only talent nor your only use in this life. This isn't what's best for you!"
"You don't know what's best for me." He was absolute and sounded on edge; she didn't seem to care.
"I know that after all that horrible shit you went through during the last two months of the fighting in Aizu and the imprisonment in that temple, going through more traumatic experiences is the worst thing you can do for yourself!"
"Do not presume to know what's best for other people only because some man with a bit of power has put an inordinate amount of trust in you."
"I know what's best for others because I exercise common logic and I have an extensive experience dealing with people, as well as, I have eyes! And you've been looking nothing but terrible this entire time I've been around you."
"You have no reason or right to worry about me, or my choices."
"I cannot simply look away from such a self-harming decision! What if you go out there and get killed?"
"It's none of your business; whatever happens, happens."
"What kind of attitude is that!? It's my fault for worrying about you? Maybe you just enjoy the danger."
"I don't enjoy the danger," he snipped; at least, not anymore.
"Hajime, you're going to get hurt! Maybe even die."
"If I die, I die."
She was horrified; and then it dawned on her. "This is a win win for you, isn't it? Go out there and do what you know how to do best and since you apparently want to die, but can't seem to bring yourself to do it, if someone else does it for you, even better."
Oh no; she went ahead and said it.
She regretted it the moment her words seemed to sink in. Her anger subsided, just enough to watch his swell. She swallowed imperceptibly and took a small step back, to give him space, already frantically looking for a way out of this.
"So, you think I'm going there to die?" How he managed to sound so collected, she didn't know—he looked homicidal. "Or is it that you hope I do?"
"I am begging you not to go;" despite her panic, she was still offended by his words "I am the only one doing so. Even you don't seem to care one way or the other—you're the one who's hoping never to return."
"Am I?"
Heh; she went ahead and said it. She literally put it into words and threw it right in his face. So, he got into hers.
"Don't ever" he went very close, towering over her "and I mean ever talk to me again if it's not an emergency or someone is not making you." His jaw clenched. "Ever." She took a deep breath, trying to appear braver than she felt. "Do you understand?" She swallowed and looked down. "Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"Good."
She felt like he spat on her.
"Goodbye Tokio." Head held high, he took one step to the left. "Hope I never have to see you again," he almost whispered, in passing.
"I hope you do," she grumbled, more to herself than him. She might have been shamed, but she was adamant. When she noticed he never looked back, or stopped his advance, she felt electricity ran through her. "Itterasshai!" she spitefully screamed at him just before he disappeared from her field of vision, long enough to see him shake his head.
Is that how he wants this last encounter before he leaves go? Fine. She would not back down either. She took a deep breath and tried to relax...five minutes later, she was kneeling in front of the tree, crying her eyes out for something intangible lost, hopefully not forever.
A/N: It gets better. They won't fight forever. But Saitou is stubborn and I loved the "open with a fight, end with a fight" thing. Thank you for your time lovelies; please leave a review for this poor, attention-seeking author. Love you.
Kisses,
FAI.