Title: Hanafubuki
Part 2: Disturbance
AN: Here's the second part to the story -- about the rating,
I know that there's been nothing pg-13 yet (heck, there's
been nothing that I'd even rate pg yet), but I think I know
where I'm heading, and I'm pretty sure that the final rating on
the piece is going to be pg-13, so I've slapped the rating up
for now...so that no one's unwittingly drawn into something
they may not want to read.
--
A morning visit
The young must learn for themselves
Rising storm draws near
--
Part 2
"Hey slowpokes, are you coming already? We're going to be late!" Yahiko stood restlessly by the gate of the dojo, shifting from foot to foot with clear impatience. Spring had settled onto Tokyo with refreshing vitality, and the breeze that tousled his hair was pleasantly warm. It was two days past Kaoru's fish debacle, and though I suspected her pride still smarted underneath the blow, both she and Yahiko had been their normal effusive selves, and life had continued as always.
"Uh, Yahiko, aren't you forgetting something?" Kaoru-dono appeared from the interior, hands held behind her back, amused grin spreading across her face. Instead of her usual kimono she wore her beige and yellow practicing outfit, and she paused at the base of the step, eagerly awaiting her student's response.
"W-what?" Yahiko's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he glanced first to the left then to the right, trying to figure out what Kaoru was playing at -- then it hit him. "Grrr, give that here!" Discarding any lingering pretence of propriety, he pounced viciously upon his Assistant Kendo Master, wrestling the shinai forcefully from her hands.
"Anyhow, what's the rush? Yoshida-san isn't expecting us until midmorning..." She calmly disentangled herself from her pugnacious student, and as I came up besides her, I had to admit that her antics with Yahiko, at the very least, always made for fantastic entertainment.
"I, err --" Yahiko's cheeks reddened as he suddenly became preoccupied with strapping the shinai to his back. I always knew that something was up when he was at a loss for words. "We can't dishonor the name of the Kamiya Kasshinryuu by being late, can we?" He retorted at last.
"And since when did you suddenly start caring about the honor of the Kamiya Kasshinryuu?" Kaoru-dono would have thrown herself at Yahiko had I not placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder. She turned in surprise, quickly taking note of the sakabatou tucked into my obi. "Oh, Kenshin, you're coming too?"
"It's been awhile since I've seen Yoshida-san." I didn't tell her about the rumor I'd heard concerning the Makita Dojo and its star pupil, of course. No need to worry Kaoru-dono unnecessarily. "And perhaps he'll be kind enough join me for tea after practice. I have yet to thank him for the fish he gave us the other day." She nodded, seeming to accept my explanation without reservation.
"Well, are we going then?" At Yahiko's whining complaint, both Kaoru and I glanced at each other, smiling, and on that note we left the dojo, the sun glittering down warmly upon our backs and the scents of spring swirling upwards from the gently unfolding flowers.
- - - - - - - - - -
"No, Takeo, your strokes need to be smoother. You're thinking about the movement too hard; you have to feel it. Try again." Ruhei Yoshida, Master of the Makita Dojo, stood next to his youngest student, sun-tanned arms folded casually across his chest.
Though well into his fifth decade, Yoshida-san still carried himself with the easy grace of a master swordsman. The katana at his side had been replaced with a shinai two years past when the edict had outlawed the carrying of real swords, but it was common knowledge among his students that when their sensei practiced by himself, he did so with his beloved blade.
"He's doing quite well for such a young student." I murmured as I followed Kaoru through the entrance of the dojo. Yoshida-san's wife had informed us that her husband was already with the students and assured us that we were expected and would be well-received.
"What?" Kaoru glanced back over her shoulder, then turned to see the scene for herself. "Oh, yes, he's only been at the dojo for the past three months, and already he's made more progress than some of the students who have been practicing almost twice as long. He seems to have a natural talent for swordsmanship, and he's certainly eager to learn."
She paused mid-stride, as if suddenly remembering something, and I silently continued past her. Although I admired Kaoru-dono's strength and independence, others were not always as understanding, and it was never customary for a woman to walk in front of a man. "Please pardon me, Yoshida-san, for interrupting -- " I waited quietly until he finished his instructions to his student. " -- it has been a while since we last met."
"Why Himura-san, what a pleasant surprise it is to see you once again. You know that you are always welcome at the Makita Dojo. You need no invitation to knock upon our gates." His greetings were, as I had remembered, warmly honest, and I smiled as I nodded in acceptance.
"Kaoru-dono and Yahiko-kun have come today to assist you...I admit I've only come to watch -- but I have yet to express my gratitude for your gift to us the other day. Perhaps afterward, if you can spare a moment?" I hoped to speak with him on a certain matter, that of his senior student, Sumire Shimizu.
"Yes, of course, it will be my pleasure." Around us, the sounds of students practicing filled the air with a general clatter punctuated every now and then by a spoken command or grunt of exertion. "But don't just stand in the doorway. Please, come in, come in."
With my back against far wall I watched Kaoru and Yahiko demonstrate the effectiveness of the Kamiya Kasshinryuu against Yoshida-san's deshi. Even Yahiko seemed to be able to hold his own against students of greater experience. Though his technique wasn't as smooth as I was certain it would become as he matured, what he lacked in efficiency he made up for in enthusiasm.
"Awe, come on, I know you can do better than that!" He stood before a student nearly twice his size, breathing heavily, shinai held challengingly in the air before him. "I, Yahiko Myoujin of the Kamiya Kasshinryuu will --" But his speech wilted under the disapproving glare of his Assistant Master, and even from across the room I could see her mouth the words, 'oh no, don't you dare'. Many swordsmen have complained that kenjutsu will be lost in this new Meiji Era, but as long as the next generation trained with such eager enthusiasm, I had no fear that the art would die.
Eventually, I found my thoughts drifting from the strokes and thrusts of Yoshida-san's students to those of the members of the Kiheitai, those many years ago. Not much older than Yahiko, I had thought that I was ready to leave Hiko-sensei and rejoin the world with a sword at my side and a head full of idealistic goals. I, the self-proclaimed protector of humanity, descended upon the Bakumatsu no Douran without knowledge of what I was running toward. And as much as I thought I understood the situation, I held a child's view of the world I fell into -- but once I had begun there was no turning back.
One sword alone did not bring about the fall of the Tokugawa Dynasty, and one sword would not be enough to ensure the lasting peace of the Restoration, but my sakabatou could protect those around me, and I would work my hardest to prevent the spilling of innocent blood for as long as I was able...
"Oh yeah, just who do you think you are? Why, coming in and thinking you could go ahead and do whatever you felt like! I'll have you know that I, Sumire Shimizu, won't let you get away with such disrespect within the walls of the Makita Dojo!" Startled by the sudden outburst, I turned toward the noise...and frowned when I saw the scene that was rapidly unfolding before me.
Sumire Shimizu, a tall dark-haired boy of about sixteen years, was Yoshida-san's most senior student -- a star pupil of substantial natural talent who also possessed a loyal dedication to mastering the art of kenjutsu (or so I'd heard). Unfortunately, rumors had also circulated that he was all too aware of his personal standing and was prone to excessive boasting and strutting both in the dojo and on the street. As he was quick to remind others of his 'many' achievements, he was also apt to be heavy-handed in knocking them down to where he thought they should be if they dared to stand in his way. He showed no mercy but looked none in return either.
"...ah, but what else could I expect from a bratty little kid whose sensei is nothing but an ugly girl?" Sumire laughed haughtily as he reached for his bokken. "I bet you couldn't even hit me if I stood here with my eyes closed." By this time, a thick silence had fallen upon the entire dojo, and everyone, from lowest student to eldest teacher, seemed to hold their breath in anticipation of Yahiko's reply.
"And just what makes you so sure of yourself, euh? I'm no pushover, I'll have you know. You'll be sorry you ever insulted Yahiko Myoujin and the Kamiya Kasshinryuu!" He stood his ground firmly before the older student, chin held high in the air, but I could tell how nervous he was by the whiteness of his knuckles as he gripped his shinai and the slight trembling of his shoulders. He didn't turn his head, but his eyes drifted in my direction, and I nodded in silent encouragement and reassurance. This was his conflict, and I would not interfere.
Yoshida-san, as well, stood by without a word, seemly prepared to watch the two students resolve the confrontation themselves. Yes, there was a time when students were no longer merely baka-deshi but were young men who had to learn their own lessons standing alone. That was the way the world worked -- it always had, and it always will.
After only a moment of hesitation, it was Sumire who attacked first, and as he brought his bokken down in a strong diagonal stroke, I could see why the merchants had begun to gossip about his ability. He didn't move with the sloppy inexactness I'd seen many students fall into since the dawning of the Meiji Restoration. No, it was almost as if he'd held a real sword against another man and had learned the precision necessary for defending one's own life in such a situation.
Yahiko, unused to blocking against such speed, only barely managed to raise his shinai in defense. His feet began slid backward across the wooden floor as he strained against the other's attack, and I could see damp beads of sweat begin to run down the sides of his face.
"You really are just a little kid, aren't you?" Sumire taunted as he towered over Yahiko. With the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, he suddenly slid his bokken up the length of the shinai and swung it toward Yahiko's head. I watched, easily anticipating the move, and hoped the Yahiko had as well.
I needn't have worried. Ducking underneath the oncoming blow, he thrust forward at the same moment, connecting with Sumire's ribs, then retreating safely out of range. "A little kid, huh? Do you still think I can't hit you? I got you, Sumire Shimizu, got you fair and square!" It was his turn to laugh, and as he held his shinai out before him I found myself smiling as well. Yes indeed, no need to worry.
"Why -- I'll show you, you brat. Dogs have good manners when people carry sticks, and little children are no different." Having realized that he wouldn't be able to take care of Yahiko without breaking a sweat, Sumire glared at his adversary, clearly forgetting about the rest of us standing frozen against the dojo walls. Then abruptly, his manner shifted, and at the flaring of his ki, my left hand instinctively closed around my sword.
"Shimizu-kun..." The tense warning from across the room meant that Yoshida-san too had felt the change, but he had no weapon on him, and the student gave no indication that he'd heard his sensei. He held the bokken horizontally in front of his chest, hands gripping it tightly about a shoulders-width apart. He closed his eyes briefly, ponytail trembling ever so slightly as he clenched his teeth together -- then in one quick movement he pulled his right arm to the side, and a bamboo sheath fell crashing to the floor.
He advanced swiftly toward Yahiko, any remnants of hesitation flung ruthlessly aside, live blade glittering in the warm midday sunlight. His swing was less controlled than his first had been, and Yahiko, despite the suddenness of the attack, was easily able to block -- but the room seemed to gasp in unison as the top half of his shinai flew across the far wall and rolled to a stop at Kaoru-dono's feet. "Kenshin!"
By the time I heard her cry, I was already on the move, and when Sumire's next stroke slashed through the air, it was my sakabatou, not Yahiko's head, that stopped it. "That's quite enough, Shimizu-kun." We remained staring at each other for a moment, but it was he that looked away first. And as Kaoru-dono dashed forward to make sure her student hadn't come to any harm, Yoshida-san, too, separated himself form the rest of the observers and laid a hand firmly upon Sumire's shoulder.
"It would be best if you left now." He pried the sword from his student's sweaty fingers. "Go home today and tell your father what you have done. Then come again tomorrow and we will talk." Sumire neither blinked nor flinched as his sensei spoke, but as silence once again filled the air, he sketched a hurried bow, then fled from the room.
"You're going to let him come back here and continue training tomorrow?" Yahiko exclaimed in loud disbelief. "What are you, nuts or something?" He would have continued, had not Kaoru-dono placed a hand firmly over his mouth, and with the two of them at each other's throats (as usual), I knew that despite the shock both, would be fine.
- - - - - - - - - -
I watched silently as Yoshida-san prepared the green tea with the graceful motions prescribed by centuries of tradition. The tea ceremony, a ritual way of preparing and drinking tea, was guided by four principles: wa (harmony), kei (respect), sei (purity), and juaku (tranquility). Within the measured movements and responses one was supposed to find inner harmony and thus become closer to enlightenment.
The ceramic bowl was smooth and brown beneath my fingers, and in the quiet peacefulness of spring I let the hot liquid slide down the back of my throat and bathe my stomach in glowing warmth. I had first been introduced to the tea ceremony by Katsura Kogoro. In many ways, he had shown me another world I had only glimpsed before, one of high-class Kyoto refinement and elegance, of intellectual and rational minds. Ironically, as I perfected the art of taking life, I also learned how to live it.
"Yoshida-san, I must apologize for intervening in the affairs of your dojo this morning," I confessed quietly when customs permitted me to speak of such matters. Kaoru and Yahiko had returned to the Kamiya Dojo, having received my reassurance that I would follow them well before the sun set.
My host sighed wearily. "The fault is mine, Himura-san. I fear I have allowed him too much leeway in his training. His technique is excellent, but he is too headstrong for his own good. I should have anticipated his temper." It seemed as though Ryuhei Yoshida had aged visibly since I'd last seen him. His eyes, though still bright, were rimmed with dark smudges, and he cheeks seemed gaunt and pale despite afternoon heat.
"You may have heard of his father," he continued after a pause. "In this era he goes by Shuen Shimizu, but in the last he was known as Jiro Otsuka --" He needn't have continued, as I could have finished the sentence for him. "-- and rumor has it that he was a member of the Shinsengumi."
end of part 2
- - - - - - - - - -
Note 1: That's all for now! What do you think? Please send email -- I promise I don't bite,
and I'd really love to hear from you. All you writers know that it's great incentive to
get the next part out... It's so hard when I know where I want the story to go (oh,
I wish I could just skip ahead and write the ending g). Oh, and I just realized that
Sumire" means "violet"...not really what I had anticipated, but in a way, the name
fits him you'll see later . As for the storm, yes it's brewing and you'll have to wait for
the next part to see what form it will take!
- Mir (06.08.2001)
Note 2: I'm continuing on my revision spree here (yes, seven years later). I'm also
reversing the names of the characters (from surname first, to given name first). I'm
not sure why I decided to do it Japanese-style when I wrote the story... but I think
the old saying holds true -- the more Japanese you learn, the less you use in your
writing... Note that until I get around to the later parts, the name order won't match.
The names I changed are as follow (given name, surname):
-- Ruhei Yoshida
-- Sumire Shimizu
-- Shuen Shimizu
-- Jiro Otsuka
- Mir (06.16.2008)
.