Chapter 2: Plotting
"Hold up," Kitsuda Hayato said, putting a hand on his sister's arm to slow her. He glanced over his shoulder. "I think we lost them. Both the police guys and that scary bastard are gone." He laughed sharply in relief. "Shit, when that guy started coming after us I thought we were dead."
"Same here," replied Mari, a bit breathless. Her brother had always been known for his fast pace, one she wasn't accustomed to keeping up. "But…who was he?"
"Don't know. Damn scary-looking, though."
"It was Saitou Hajime."
Haya spun around and found himself confronted by the same man that had intercepted Saitou. "Who are you?"
"Maeda Gou," he introduced. "Don't worry—a friend."
Mari looked him over carefully. "You're the guy that stopped the one chasing us, aren't you?"
He nodded. "Yes. I thought you could use the help; I also wanted to speak to him."
"You know him?"
"I did once. May we talk someplace safer than this?"
Haya and Mari exchanged glances, made nervous by the constant activity of that day. "I guess so," Haya said after a moment. "I've heard of this guy Saitou—he was involved with my father. I want to hear what you have to say."
Maeda led them to a small restaurant at the edge of the city, one far less known than the Akabeko. They chose the booth farthest away from any of the other customers. "Order whatever you like," he told them. "Since I brought you here."
"We already ate," said Mari. "But please, just green tea for me."
The waitress took their orders and returned with drinks quickly, then left. "This place is known for its low-class customers," Maeda explained. "They'll leave us alone. Now, let me introduce myself formally." He cleared his throat. "Maeda Gou, former member of the Shinsengumi's third group. Recently, though, I've devoted myself to an organization known as the Night Wolves. The last survivors of the Miburo."
"Shinsengumi?" Haya repeated. He was surprised that he blurted out so much at once, considering they were strangers. "But they were destroyed."
"Not utterly. While the leaders were either killed in battle or from disease, a handful of us survived through the Bakumatsu and into the new era. We are a small group that has been keeping tabs on the Meiji government."
The siblings exchanged glances. It seemed they'd stumbled upon something far greater than they'd thought. "Are you…planning an attack?" Mari asked hesitantly.
Maeda shook his head. "No, nothing that extreme. Our mission is not another war—too many attempts have passed and failed. But we have several allies implanted in the government, spying and manipulating the few decisions that they can, trying to keep the corrupt officials from achieving their own selfish goals. Most of us weren't very experienced samurai at the time of the war, and so now our existence is non-hostile."
Haya relaxed, allowing a half-grin to twist his lips. "So, you're more like concerned citizens, eh? What does that have to do with us?"
"You said you knew of Saitou-san."
"Yeah. What of it?"
Mari took it upon herself to explain despite her brother's arrogance. "Our father was Kitsuda Yasuhide, of the Shinsengumi. A noble warrior. However, he died early in the war. He sacrificed himself to save the lives of his subordinates, and we were told that the man Saitou Hajime was among them."
Maeda hummed thoughtfully. "I see. I remember hearing about Kitsuda-san. So you're his children…I'm glad to have found you."
Haya made a face of mock disgust. "I hope you're not going to as us to join your lap dogs," he said. "The spirit of the samurai is to fight, not sit back and watch the country fall apart."
"Yes, I know. I feel the same way. And that is why I asked about Saitou-san." He considered everything silently for a moment. "I have people I can talk to. Kagewara will most certainly do this for me. May I contact you later?"
"Huh? Why?"
"In case." Maeda quickly finished his drink. "There's some information I want to find, and then maybe we'll speak again. Oh, and hide those swords." He indicated the kodachi. "Wherever you got them, it's not a good idea to provoke the police further."
Haya shrugged indifferently. "Yeah, sure. I'm not afraid."
"Of course not. But please do be careful."
"You can find us in the east district," Mari said. "We own a small hut. Everyone there knows us."
"Thank you. Take care of yourself, and perhaps later we can speak more on this matter." He climbed to his feet and bowed. "Excuse me." He moved away, pleased with himself.
"Why where you being so helpful?" Haya questioned his sister after the man had left. "We don't owe him anything, even if he was Shinsengumi."
Mari nodded absently. "True, but there's something about him. Something…" She twisted her cup about before taking a quiet sip. "I trust him, Brother. He has a calm spirit, and he is a samurai. He knew Father."
"Knew of Father. There's a difference."
"But still…"
Haya sighed, giving up. "You always convince me anyway," he laughed, "so I might as well surrender. If you trust him, then I will. But why do you think he was so interested in Saitou?"
"I don't know." Mari shook her head slowly. "But the better question might be, why was Saitou so interested in us?"
The next morning Kenshin, Kaoru, and Yahiko set out for the Maekawa Dojo. It had been months since their last visit, and they were long overdue. They were greeted by the students with warm salutations and grateful cheers. Kenshin smiled to himself as Kaoru instantly donned her kendo armor and joined the line of boys. He'd nearly forgotten how popular she was here; all of the students respected and adored her. They had every reason to. Kaoru was never in brighter spirits than when set in front of students, and it showed in everything she did—even in her temper. Kenshin couldn't remember when he had that kind of youthful energy, which only served to heighten his admiration for her. She was a strong, virtuous, inspiring person, even more than ever now that they'd returned to Tokyo.
Kenshin noticed then a new student among the group. He was older than most of the others—Kenshin guessed nineteen or so—but obviously a beginner, as he stood toward the back and appeared quite amazed by the simple exercises being conducted. A quick survey of the dojo's room showed Yahiko nearby, and Kenshin waved him over. "See that one?" he asked, pointing. "See if you can get him to join the group."
Yahiko pursed his lips. "Why?"
"Because he is not participating," he answered simply.
"Yeah, but why me?"
"Kaoru-dono is busy, and part of being a master someday is helping those that need it."
The boy sighed with exaggeration, and shrugged. "Sure, whatever." He approached the youth that Kenshin had indicated, and spoke to him a while. Kenshin watched hopefully, but the student held up his hand and shook his head. Yahiko resorted to his temper, but still he declined. Eventually Yahiko gave up and, shooting Kenshin a frustrated look, went off to find a sparring partner.
Kenshin scratched his head thoughtfully, considering the best strategy for involving this hesitant student. He didn't mind the challenge—after all, the boy had to have come for a reason. And it was a more interesting diversion than sleeping. He stood and moved toward his target.
The youth watched Kenshin's approach curiously. "You're Himura Kenshin, right?" he asked.
Kenshin sighed. "Hmm. It seems my reputation is greater than I thought. Yes, I am." He offered him a smile. "And you are?"
"Shiburo Akira," he replied, seemingly honored that this man was even speaking to him. "I've heard much about you from everyone. They say you're amazing."
"Well, well…" The red-headed samurai laughed faintly. "I only come here to watch. Which is apparently what you do as well."
Akira smiled grimly. "I'm not very good at this."
"As would be expected, with a wall as a sparring partner."
"Well…" He shook his head, but he also laughed, which Kenshin took as a good sign. "My friends are really interested in sword arts," he explained. "They wanted me to join their school, but that's too much for me. I thought kendo would be safer."
"But still, you are not participating." Kenshin pointed across the room. "Why do you not practice with Kaoru-dono? Certainly she would be willing to teach you some basic exercises." Finally he caught the girl's attention, and she smiled brightly to see him beckoning her. "Kamiya Kaoru-dono," he introduced grandly, "This is Shiburo Akira. He wishes to learn."
"But I—"
Kaoru instantly charged herself with the task, as Kenshin had hoped. "I'm glad to hear that," she said truthfully. "Come on—I'll get you some private tutoring, since everyone else is doing so well." She took his hand and began to drag him toward the center of the room. "Hold on a minute while I get you a shinai."
Kenshin smiled, quite proud of himself, as their lesson began.
Maeda returned to the small restaurant at mid-afternoon, as always making his way to the last booth. Kagewara Shinnosuke was already there and eating. He gestured to the seat across from his where there was already a meal set out. "I already ordered for you," he said. "I know what you eat."
"Thank you." He sat down and helped himself to the food. "Did you get my message?"
Kagewara snorted. He was a stiff, aristocratic-type man, and very strict despite his young age of twenty-four. As a member of the government he kept his appearance in prime condition: his thin black hair, long as it was, had been tied back from his bony-featured face and narrow eyes. His bangs formed a V-shape down the center of his forehead, completing the image he projected of some stripped badger. His personality was not much improved from such a description.
"What I received," he responded through tight lips, "was a note that said 'Saitou Hajime please.' Not much of a message, but I suspected it was you from the writing and got to work as I always do." He tapped a stack of papers beside him with his chopsticks. "An interesting life story. The research was at least amusing."
Maeda wondered briefly if someone as uptight as Kagewara could ever find anything "amusing". "So, what did you discover?"
He swallowed a piece of meat. "Do you want my full report?"
"Yes."
"Very well." Kagewara continued his meal between sentences as he replayed his findings. "Saitou Hajime, born in September of 1823 to a wealthy samurai family in Nagoya. The records of his life at this time are relatively non-existent—I suppose this isn't the kind of information you want anyway."
"Since the war," Maeda confirmed.
"Very well." He paused to drink from his tea. "Saitou joined the Shinsengumi at the age of nineteen and was assigned to the third group. Soon after the group's leader, Kitsuda Yasuhide, was killed during an incident that was not clearly reported. Saitou assumed the leadership position until the third war in 1869. The third group was nearly obliterated; I shouldn't have to tell you that, however, as you were there."
The old samurai nodded, his face drawing tight with the memory. "Yes. But Kitsuda Yasuhide…" Those kids weren't lying to me…
Kagewara continued without falter. "Saitou sustained nearly mortal wounds during the battle and was taken into custody. Instead of having him executed they took him as a member of the sword-carrying police and reported him to Aizu during the Seinan War. That was when he changed his name to Fujita Gorou. Now works as a special government agent under the direct command of Kawaji Toshiyoshi himself. Was assigned to the Shishio Makoto incident last spring along with Himura Battousai."
"Battousai?" Maeda repeated incredulously. "He was working with the Battousai?"
"Yes. As of now he's on leave due to the recent closing of the Shishio incident. He and his family are staying in Tokyo."
"You were able to find out a lot."
"As the assistant to the Secretary of Defense," he replied tersely, "I should be able to. Our 'Pack Leader' has had me keeping tabs on him for the past two years, but this is the first time I researched his past. Interesting." He finished his meal and set the bow aside. "How many samurai are there that can switch sides and still claim honor? I wonder."
Maeda's response was immediate. "There aren't any."
"I see. The only other information I have is his family: his wife, formerly Furuyama Tokio; his twelve year old son, Tsuyoshi; and the boy he took in, Mishima Eiji."
He nodded slowly, his sharp eyes focused on the space of floor ahead of him with deep concentration. "Why was I never told about Saitou-san if our leader knew?"
Kagewara made a face as if to say that the answer were obvious. "You're Shinsengumi. He knew you and the others would be upset. But actually…" He made a thoughtful humming noise. "It's ironic that you bring it up now."
"Why is that?"
"Recently our organization has been under investigation," he began, making no attempt to keep his voice inconspicuous. His blatant indifference to the secrecy of their organization, though shunned by the members, actually aided to their cause in that he never acted as if he were sharing suspicious information. "Last March Saitou was assigned to the case, but was shortly pulled because of the more pressing issue of Shishio Makoto's attempted takeover. Now, he may be reassigned. As you can imagine, our leader was in a near panic the first time around."
"I can," Maeda agreed, fully understanding the implications. The Night Wolves were composed mainly of former Miburo too stubborn to abandon their old ways. Their practices had remained virtually unchanged since the war, lending familiarity to this era that was so alien to them now. Saitou knew all those practices. He knew their disguises and their tactics, even the course of their thoughts—most of these taught to them by the man himself. The knowledge he had, combined with that which he had the skill to gain, would be more than enough to destroy what little balance their small group had. If the man so desired he could crush them on a whim. "Something has to be done. We can't allow him to give his information—"
"Obviously," Kagewara interrupted. "Arrangements are already being made."
"What?"
"In this era the samurai are all but extinct. They are all either dead or government officials. All but two: Saitou Hajime and Himura Battousai. They both need to be dealt with."
"Battousai…"
He nodded. "Residing now at the Kamiya Dojo. Not bad for the most lethal assassin known to Japan."
Maeda shifted impatiently. "But what about Saitou?"
"Oh yes—the last Mibu Wolf. He'll be taken care of. A course of action is set: three days from now."
"You're killing him?"
"You think we could? No, they have something else in mind. But we need help." He lifted an eyebrow. "Someone dumb enough to risk their life for our cause, and face one of the most dangerous men of the era. Can you?"
Maeda frowned. "Actually, I may be able to help."
By the end of that day's lesson's Akira had gotten over all his hesitation and was doing well with the exercises Kaoru had instructed him in. Despite the sweat dripping down his forehead he was grinning exuberantly and full of spirited energy. With eyes gleaming he thanked Kaoru several times over. "I enjoyed myself greatly, Kaoru-sensei. Thank you so much."
Kaoru smiled, growing embarrassed by his constant praises and gratitude. "It's nothing, really. I do this for a living, you know."
"Oh, that's right." He reached into his sleeve. "I should pay you."
"Oh no, I couldn't accept that—"
Yahiko whacked her with his shinai. "Take it, hag. You don't have any money."
"Yahiko! I can't take it—that would be rude. I'm not even from this dojo—"
"You're so stupid! You finally get a student with cash and you don't take it! How are we going to eat?"
"You can pay for the food; you have a job."
Kenshin intervened before their argument escalated further. "Now now, calm down."
"Please, just take it," Akira insisted. "I'd like to become a regular student of yours."
Kaoru's face lit up, and she forgot her war with her young pupil. "Really? That would be great. You're doing well already." Kenshin urged Yahiko back, who was already fuming. "How are afternoons? Just come to the Kamiya Dojo—there's always someone around."
"I'd like that. Now here, please take it."
"Well…"
"Please."
"Okay, okay. Thank you very much."
Akira hurried to Tokyo's east district afterwards, the weight of the shinai slung over his back a welcomed and inspiring feeling. Even at the age of nineteen he was still a child in his heart, now given this remarkable chance. It was exhilarating. He ran all the way there.
"Hayato! Mari-san!" He threw open the door to their small hut, ready to proclaim his victory. "I finally did it! I joined—"
He stopped, cringing with embarrassment to see they had company. The pair was seated with an aging gentleman who appeared to be a samurai, and a younger, well-dressed official. The looks on their faces indicated some grave business at hand. He hesitated beneath their stares. "Uh, excuse me. I'm very sorry."
"Akira-san," Mari greeted, "it's good to see you. Come in."
He did so slowly. "I didn't mean to intrude…" he began to apologize. "I didn't know…"
"It's alright." She waved him over, and he took a seat by her side. She introduced the two men to him. "They've come to enlist our help."
Maeda coughed into his hand, clearly displeased by this new addition, though his partner was not phased in the least. "Can he be trusted?"
"Of course," Mari answered immediately. "He's…a good friend of ours," she was blushing a bit. "He'll help us, too."
Akira choked on a reply. He gazed at Mari and found that he could not protest. His frustration held no weight in his heart when it came to this girl. Only her…
"Excellent." Kagewara pulled a slip of paper out of his sleeve, on which several notes and diagrams had been scrawled earlier. "Then let me outline the rest of my plan."
