Tears and Rain
Chapter Twelve -- The Ties that Bind: Kuri's decision and Soujiro's choice
By Gabi
The rain was still falling lightly when Kuri woke up, and its steady drum on the roof was reassuring. She rolled out of bed and gathered Soujiro's newly repaired blue gi in her hands just in time for someone to rap lightly at the door.
Intent on giving the gi to Soujiro herself with proper pomp and circumstance, and not being discovered like a thief in her room, she hastily hid the gi behind her back as the door slid open to reveal a somewhat harried Hisashi.
Relieved, she pulled the gi back in front of her as he spoke.
"I'm glad you're awake. It's time for lunch," he didn't look at her, but instead focused on the ground.
Her eyes widened, "Honto? I don't think I've ever slept this late before. Why didn't someone wake me up? I've missed half the day."
Hisashi still refused to meet her eyes and found something very interesting in her mussed bedclothes to devote his attention to, "Yoshida-sensei said it was better to let you sleep."
Kuri rolled her eyes, "He would, that old goat, but why didn't Soujiro-kun come and wake me up? I thought we'd have a lot to do today. Is he still practicing? Oh wait, he can't be practicing. It's raining," she observed to herself.
Hisashi didn't answer her but instead made a vague remark about lunch. Kuri began to feel very uneasy about his inability to look her in the face and asked another question.
"What's everyone up to today?"
The boy didn't answer for a moment then said, "I've been studying and Yoshida-sensei's been putting some of his books in order."
She laughed nervously, "What's Soujiro-kun doing? I'm sure he's driving Yoshida-sensei crazy if he's practicing in the house."
The boy didn't answer her and she felt compelled to press him, her voice rising oddly in pitch, "What's he doing, Hisashi-kun?"
Hisashi finally looked at her and it was such a look of compassion and pity that her stomach flopped over in fear. She trembled and somewhere, a voice of insecurity inside of her supplied a reason, but she couldn't accept it. She couldn't even think about it, so she brushed past Hisashi in a flurry of panic and dashed into the main room, where she knew she would find Soujiro absently counting kata.
Only Yoshida sat in the room, shuffling through some papers. She turned on her heel and was about to dash off to investigate other areas of the house when Yoshida spoke, confirming her worst fears in only two words.
"He left."
She didn't turn to him, but simply stopped stock-still. When she spoke it was in a light tone that was an obvious attempt to cover her growing dread, "Where did he go?"
"I don't know. He left in the middle of the night."
Her falsely cheerful tone trembled, "I'm sure he'll be back soon."
"He took all of his things when he left," Yoshida observed flatly, apparently quite interested in his papers.
Kuri turned on her heel, disbelieving, "No!" she cried.
He finally looked up, "Yes, he did."
She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. That couldn't be true. She would go to his room and see for herself that it wasn't true. She moved before Yoshida could call her back, and her socked feet beat a hasty rhythm as she raced down the hall to the spare room the doctor had given Soujiro use of.
She blustered into the room and then scanned the room hastily for any sign that the boy-ronin was still a resident. There were none. His clothes were gone. The bed was neatly made. He hadn't slept in it. His money pouch was gone. His katana was gone. Everything that she could readily identify as his was gone. The room seemed sterile and terribly lonely.
Suddenly there was a sound and Kuri whirled hopefully around only to find Hisashi standing in the doorway, watching her concernedly.
"It's all some joke, isn't it? It's all a prank just to scare me," she begged, "Tell me I'm right. Soujiro-kun just went out somewhere and you hid all his things to scare me. He's taking a bath. That's why his clothes aren't here, right? Right?"
After a moment, he sadly shook his head, "I wish I could tell you that it's just a joke, Kuri-san, but I know he left. He left my spare gi in front of my door this morning. I'm sure if he hadn't meant to leave, he'd have not worried about returning it so quickly," he watched Kuri wince at his words as if they hurt and he stammered, "Dai-daijoubu ka, Kuri-san?"
"No!" she snapped, louder and harsher than she had intended to and this time Hisashi winced, but too caught up in her own worries she didn't notice, "Nothing's all right. Did he leave a note? Anything saying when he'd be back?"
As Hisashi started to shake his head no, another form appeared beside him and shooed the younger boy away. Yoshida took up residence leaning against the door facing, and he watched her intently even as he replied, "He isn't coming back."
"Of course he's coming back! Are you stupid?" she stormed, her emotions in turmoil. She was striking out in an attempt to validate her own hopes.
"What reason does he have to come back?" asked the old man abrasively.
"Me!" Her anger was now edging it's way to hysterical tears and without thinking, she blurted out, "He loves me!"
"Does he, now?"
Yoshida's avant-garde attitude about this horrible situation just served to agitate her more and she found that she drew a great deal of comfort in simply asserting something she'd been to afraid to say out loud before.
"He does. He loves me," she repeated more calmly as she struggled to regain some semblance of control over herself.
"What makes you think that?" the old man's voice was harsh.
"He's always been there for me! He's always protected me! He loves me! I know he does! Otherwise, he wouldn't have -- he wouldn't have, " she broke off.
The old man interrupted her, "Love and protect are two different words and they mean two entirely different things."
Kuri stammered, "What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. Just because he protected you doesn't mean he loves you. Not enough to come back. If he did he wouldn't have left in the first place."
"No. No that's not true!" she shook her head as if that helped her combat his contrary message, "We've been through too much. He's coming back. He has to come back!"
"Did he ever tell you?" Yoshida snapped, "Did he ever tell you that he loved you?"
She was near hysterical, "No, no! But that doesn't mean . . ."
"He told me that you were nothing but baggage for him."
His flat, matter-of-fact statement struck her harder than any blow the innkeeper had ever given her.
"That's not true," she whimpered.
"You can't run from reality forever Kuri. You have to face fact. He left you and I'm glad he did. He didn't appreciate you. You're worth more than that."
She hunched up in a little ball and continued to whimper, "No, no. You're lying," softly to herself, as if it were a mantra.
Yoshida rose and walked to the door, "I'm just telling the truth Kuri. You'll thank me one day," he added softly as he slid the door shut.
Kuri began to cry freely after he left her and she rocked back and forth in misery as she tried to come to terms with what Yoshida had said.
It couldn't be true. He did care about her. He was the first person who had cared about her. He had cared for her. Kept her safe. Like a tame rabbit. Like his pet. Not like his woman, like his pet.
He had never said anything. She had told him everything. Everything she could think of and everything she dreamed. He had never told her anything. She just knew his name and that he was a former assassin, and she'd only found out his previous occupation due to a chance encounter. She had told him that she didn't care what he had been. She thought he knew that she only cared about what he was. Not what he had been. What he was. The future was beautiful, but not without him. Not without him.
And she rocked back and forth hugging his discarded gi to her chest. It had just been laundered so it didn't even smell of him. She couldn't even claim that connection any more. He had left her. He hadn't even said goodbye. She was so easy for him to leave that he didn't even need to say goodbye. He had just walked off.
She was alone. He had left her all alone. Now she had no one. She had built a happy, safe place to live, in his shadow. She had given herself to him in everything but words. She loved him so much that at times she felt that her heart would burst with it. Now she just felt wounded and lost, and she ached because a part of her was missing. He had stolen a part of her when he had left . . . and she might not ever get it back.
No. She couldn't think like that. He was coming back. He had to come back. She squeezed her eyes tight with resolve. She would wait three days for him to come back, and then she would leave on her own journey, to find him. If he didn't come back, she was going to go get him and drag him back. There were no two ways about it. Feeling emotionally exhausted, Kuri slumped against Soujiro's abandoned sleeping mat and curled up around his gi, finding comfort in the familiar fabric. After a long while, she finally found peace in sleep.
*
It was still raining lightly when Soujiro arrived at the designated place in the Kyoto countryside. The grass was deep in the field he had chosen. It had been left fallow to grow wild and no animals had been grazed in it. The summer grass grew up to his waist, and the grain heads were heavy with both seeds and moisture, so they bent and danced lightly in the wind. By the time Soujiro had waded halfway into the field, his hakama were quite damp, and he almost second guessed his choice of location, but the sheer peace and tranquility of the location reaffirmed it. Occasionally there was a low animal noise from another field or some ambient sound from the small farmhouse over the hillock, but other than that, the silence was unbroken. As Soujiro listened idly for these sounds as he waited, he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to live in one of these sleepy little cottages and give up wandering and simply work the land. Of course, this wasn't a serious thought, but just a passing fantasy, he assured himself. He was on a journey to find the ultimate truth and he hadn't even had an inkling of it, as yet. He had no right to even think about settling.
As it happened, he didn't even get a chance to think about these issues further, because he heard a light step in the grass behind him and turned on his heel, hand swinging down to his sword hilts automatically. As he turned to face the woman samurai, he noted that she too had shifted into guard position the moment he turned. They stood en guard for several seconds in silence before Soujiro momentarily relaxed his guard and smiled.
"Ohayo, Toyotomi-san," he greeted good-naturedly, being sure to never stray too far off guard, "I trust I didn't hurt you too badly the first time we met."
Her face was grim and set and she ignored his friendly overture, "I am glad that you decided to make this simple for both of us. You understand that this is not something I can walk away from."
A strange smile quirked on Soujiro's features as the wind breezed his hair out of his face, "I don't suppose it would matter if I said I was sorry."
The woman snorted and her hand went down to touch her sword hilt as a reactionary measure.
The boy ronin shrugged, "I had assumed so. I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way then," he flowed smoothly into a battou-juutsu stance.
The woman was no fool and she mirrored him, her attention riveted to his sword hand, "I see you're carrying two swords now. Do you think that will make beating me any easier?"
Soujiro laughed easily and shook his head, "Maa, Toyotomi-san, I'm not an idiot. Two swords simply suit my purposes today."
She did not reply to his flippant explanation, but simply tensed herself. From all reports the boy wasn't used to fighting with two swords. That would make him an easier target, especially considering the wound in his sword arm. Her own wound still bothered her, but she'd been well bandaged and nursed. She doubted that he was as good for the wear. When she had left him in the alley, she had thought he was as good as dead. It had been a shock when the letter in smooth round hand had arrived on her doorstep detailing the specifics of this encounter, the final encounter. That little girl must have taken good care of him. It was a horrible shame that the girl had gotten dragged into this. It just went to show how small the world was. She had had no idea of the connection until a shadow in the alley had caught her eye and directed her attentions to the darkness. Still, she couldn't think about that. As much as she liked the girl, she'd waited too long for vengeance. When the Tenken had been part of the Juppongatana he had been too well guarded, out of reach, and too strong. When rumors had spread around Kyoto that he was now wandering, alone and confused, she had known that it was finally time for honor to be served. No matter what the cost, her honor would be cleansed. Her husband would be avenged. Finally, she might have some peace in her life.
When she drew it was sudden, lightning quick and there was barely a whisper as the long Japanese sword came out of its scabbard. Soujiro was ready for her and with a smoothness that came from years of practice, he drew the katana. Noriko still marked him as slow from his injury and she saw that as fluid as his draw was, it was still too slow. He wasn't fast enough to draw both swords and still counter her attack. She raced across the short expanse of grass and sent her sword cleanly for his head, its speed accelerated by an extra push from her own right hand, wrapped in linen, against the unsharpened side of the blade. He was not ready to block it. The fight would end as swiftly and painlessly as that.
And then a movement caught the corner of her eye and suddenly with a sharp clash the katana was there to counter the nihontou, wielded effortlessly in the boy's left hand. Somehow, while she had been distracted by the wide expanse of flesh he'd left open and undefended, his kantana had shifted hands -- which meant his right hand was free for -- and then she felt the hard sharp pain of the iaitou's butt under her chin, knocking her teeth together. She tasted blood in her mouth and feel back, dazedly, and suddenly he wasn't there anymore, but she traced his impacts on the ground to his new location, and he stood several dozen feet away from her, calmly sheathing both swords as the rain delicately beat a gentle rhythm on the grass around him, causing the grain heads to nod as if in approval. His stance was relaxed.
She fell back into another guard and watched for him to shift into attack stance again, spitting blood and feeling for broken teeth with her tongue. Soujiro was still for a moment more, then he spoke.
"I don't want to kill you."
This halted her attack momentarily, although she stayed warily on guard, she spat, "That's very noble of you, Tenken."
He was not moved at all by the insult and simply continued, "I know you have daughters."
She was infuriated, "Urusai! You have no right to talk about my family like you understand my pain and suffering!" she threw herself at him again, whispering though the grass like a breeze. This time she knew to anticipate the hand shift, but it was Soujiro who took the offensive this time, and she was forced to freeze in her tracks and take up a guard position because she could not track his movements while she herself was moving. He was a blur in the grass, but his choice of the open field for their battle had been a stupid one, in her opinion. He had no walls to throw his momentum against and bounce off of. Still, he was building up amazing speed as he flew around her, and then suddenly he was right in front of her, and he dodged right in an attempt to rake a cut against her already wounded side. She guarded against the katana only to realize it was a feint a second too late. He was behind her and her back was unprotected and she gritted her teeth for the oncoming razor strike that would burn like fire, but it didn't come, and she was beginning to wonder if the boy had really meant what he said when she was suddenly clubbed hard across the back. The force of the blow knocked her forward into the loamy mud that was developing in the field. Soujiro retreated a few steps backward and simply watched her as the rain only worsened.
Noriko struggled back onto her knees and coughed. Soujiro didn't let her get to her feet before he continued.
"I know you have daughters and I know what it's like to be raised without a mother. Would you doom your daughters to grow up untended to? Then they might end up like me," he finished softly.
"My daughters are not like you! How dare you stain their honor? I do not raise killers!" she raged as she struggled to stand.
"No, I'm sure you don't, but the world does. I was not born a killer. No one is born a killer. The world makes killers."
"That's no excuse for who you are and what you've done!"
"I didn't say it was," he remarked absently, staring at the sky, "There are no excuses for what I've done, and there is no way for me to negate what I did in the past, but I'm trying to pay penance for it now. I'm trying to live by protecting someone else. I promised her I wouldn't kill you."
Noriko tried to banish the image of the smiling adolescent girl from her mind but she found she couldn't, "Where is she?"
His smile only widened as he squeezed his eyes against the rain, "Safe, a long way from here. I left her and now I know I probably won't be going back to her. When I found her, you know, the world was trying its best to break her spirit, but she never let it. No matter what happened, she was always there. Her spirit is a rock you can cling to when you're lost and her voice is a beacon that shows the way," he shook his head ruefully, "Sometimes I wish things had turned out differently, but she'll move on. She has to, because I'm not going to fight you any more," he took off his swords and tossed them aside, "I deserve whatever punishment you give me. I had hoped that there was a way that we could resolve this bloodlessly, but I know it will never end until one of us dies. You have children to look after. There's nothing else binding me here."
Noriko listened incredulously as he spoke and didn't believe him until he tossed his katana and iaitou to the side. Then the impact of his words struck her full force. She could have her revenge. Her honor would be restored. Her husband would be at peace. It was all so easy . . . but then, what about the girl that she knew would search endlessly for this boy once she realized he was missing? The boy ronin apparently truly believed that she would move on, but Noriko knew with first hand experience exactly how hard it was to move on. Would she now inflict the same pain she had felt on a girl she had ever so briefly thought of as her daughter? But the man who knelt before her was by no means innocent. He was a killer. He deserved to be punished. Here was her peace and redemption. It was in her grasp. She couldn't just throw it away.
After closing her eyes briefly, Noriko made her decision, and she brought the heavy handle of her nihontou down hard on the back of the boy's head, which was bent with resignation. With a sickening thud, he collapsed face first into the mud and was still.