Resolution

III

Sanosuke eased up a little at Saitou's initiation of the comparatively innocuous topic. He settled himself more comfortably into the chair, throwing one leg over the other so that a normally refined position now looked uncouth. He gave Saitou a sideways glance, one that was almost smug.

"My woman," said Sanosuke, his voice proud, "is just about the most beautiful woman you'll ever see. So beautiful she could be the best geisha in all of Tokyo--"

"Ahou. If she were a geisha you wouldn't have her."

For some reason, that particular insult always got to Sanosuke. The younger man was sitting upright in the chair now, his body taut with angry tension. It was ironic. Saitou had seen him make a fool of himself many times, that a mere verbal insult should mean little in the light of those far more embarrassing incidents. It proved one thing, though nothing startling. The ahou was an ahou. Saitou felt his lips quirk even as he calmly brought his cigarette up to his mouth again.

It rather surprised him when Sanosuke seemed to calm down abruptly. Instead of a string of fast and furious obscenities, he merely crossed his arms in front of his chest and sank back into his chair, his face a sullen mask.

"It's going to be a long night," said Sanosuke sarcastically.

"Why are you in Hokkaido?"

"Why are you in Hokkaido?"

"Answering a question with a question will only make this night longer."

Sanosuke ignored him. Saitou would have ignored him too, only he knew from experience how utterly dull chain smoking cigarette after cigarette could be, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. If the ahou refused to talk, then it was time to induce him to talk.

As a boy, Sanosuke had always been amusing to trifle with. He was one of those people who never understood the virtue of thought before action, so that with carefully placed bait it was easy to lure him into whatever trap was intended for him. Back then, the game was entertaining, and one that Saitou always won. Saitou liked winning.

"This woman of yours, she's not with you."

Saitou did not think he liked him very much, yet Sanosuke had actually begun to babble to him about her at only the most banal of invitations. It piqued Saitou's interest, this potential tale of foolish young lovers. Sanosuke certainly looked like the type. He was young and he was foolish.

"I should think you want to be in her arms, not stuck in cold Hokkaido with the enemy."

"Can't," said Sanosuke curtly. "I'm wanted, and it would hurt Megumi."

That name sounded vaguely familiar. A common name, but Saitou distinctly remembered being acquainted with a woman called that. He thought about the Battousai and his friends, trying to recall names and faces from a time that seemed far away, but it had really only been a few years ago. Not the tanuki-musume, her name was Kaoru, nor that other frighteningly enthusiastic young girl, the itachi-musume. There had been another female, a woman in contrast to those noisy adolescent girls... the lady doctor.

"Hmm," muttered Saitou.

The ahou's woman was a beautiful physician. Kami makes fools of us all.

"Where is she?"

"In Aizu, but that's none of your concern."

"Yet you tell me anyway."

Really, how artless could Sanosuke get? After not seeing the ahou for so long, he had forgotten just how. But the implied insult of Saitou's words was wasted on him. Sanosuke's head was cradled in his hands now, shoulders hunched as if weary. Saitou wondered how long it was since he last saw the woman. Aizu was some distance from Hokkaido.

It brought back early memories, this unexpected mention of Aizu. Aizu was where he had travelled to after leaving his home at nineteen. It was where he had first met Takagi Tokio, and where their marriage had taken place. He thought about his wife. Poor Tokio, once more alone in their big house in Kyoto while he was called away on police work.

A match with Saitou Hajime, captain of the Shinsengumi third unit had been prestigious at that time, and one that her Tokugawa supporting family was eager to make. He had been indifferent to the marriage, seeing such unions as merely social neccessity, so that a man could fulfill his urges within proper boundaries and carry on his lineage. As a child, it was duty and not affection that existed between the husbands and wives that he knew.

Tokio had turned out to be a remarkable woman. Not beautiful like he remembered Sanosuke's lady doctor to be, but there was something striking in her fine-boned features and proud bearing. During the first years of their marriage, she had been impossibly stubborn and willful, that many times he had been tempted to slap her into submission. Yet her intelligence was fascinating, and her heart was good. One day he realized that she was just a young woman upset at being betrothed to a stranger. He was no longer a stranger now. After all these years, he wondered if Tokio understood how he felt about her. Was it duty that bound her to him?

"So why are you here? Police business again, I'll bet."

The rough voice of Sanosuke permeated the haze of his thoughts, or perhaps the haze was just an illusion created by his incessant smoking. Saitou merely grunted in acknowledgement, but he did not say more. Even if Sanosuke were a friend, it would be unwise to reveal too much to a man with an impetuous mouth and love for sake.

"Poor wife, be careful she doesn't run around with someone else while you're away."

"Voicing your own worries?"

"Che," was the noncommittal reply, and then he said, "I can't be selfish and expect a woman who's not my wife to keep her faith. But you can."

Saitou saw earnestness in Sanosuke's eyes, so that suddenly there was a semblance of the nineteen-year-old boy that Saitou knew him best as. For reasons he could not fathom, irritation pricked at him. Yet there was also quiet sadness in the younger man's dark eyes, that Saitou let the harsh feelings wash over him. He nodded almost imperceptibly, refusing to dignify with obvious agreement the wisdom of one he considered inferior, but the good part of him, that small part that had not been rotted by cynicism, was willing to acknowledge that in their disparity they were at least alike in loneliness. This unexpected affinity with the ahou was a strange feeling.

"I wonder... what kind of woman can stand you?" said Sanosuke slyly.

It was inevitable, this. Saitou smirked, glad that the moment was over.