By: Stealiana
Dawn prodded me into action and I wearily rose to my feet. I could see in the dim, gray light his body sprawled out on the wooden plank floor. The morning would no doubt bring him a fitful, dreamless slumber, and I would not disturb him. The demon had disappeared and was not about to return.
I felt the air upon my shoulder, and was reminded of my torn yukata. Whether or not I would bother repairing it would depend upon if I could bear to wear something so dirty and tarnished in my memory. I would ponder it later.
My pace that morning was agonizingly slow. But there was nothing to do, except wait. At last, I felt motivated to at least clean the dried spittle from the night before. While I was there, I peered outside to see that he was indeed awake, staring into the gray nothingness of the morning, his back to me. With little hesitation, I knelt next to him.
"Good morning." Although my voice was quiet, I was not being meek. The time had already come and gone for such things.
"Good morning." His eyes did not stray, but I found his tone to be lacking its usual cold composure.
"Is that all you have to say to me?" The prompt caused his eyes to twitch - no doubt he felt the burden of my gaze.
"No." He lapsed into silence, clearly not relishing the thought of elaborating. Nothing on his face changed.
"Perhaps your tongue hurts too much too speak? Well, don't worry, I will tell you exactly what I expected to hear!" I felt my hands shaking, a strange rush in my ears accompanying my reprimand. My defiance. "I expected an explanation as to why you came home drunk last night. Why you drink at all when it turns you into such a horrible thing! How a man who believes in a righteous cause can allow himself to transform into the essence of what he is so set against? And," I continued, disappointed by not having garnered a reaction by now. "Why you refuse to speak to me! You come and go without a word, you do nothing but smoke outside silently - what is so difficult about holding a conversation with your wife?!"
"What would you like me to say?" The question was asked with perfect seriousness, yet I was by now infuriated, seeing it as a scornful retort.
"I'm sorry, perhaps!" I snapped. The silence choked me from spitting out something more damaging, assuming I could have thought of it in my current frame of mind.
"Well. I am sorry, Tokio." He said quietly, coldly, as he stood. "If you wanted a perfect man, you married the wrong one." I could see he was about to leave, so I hurried to stand also.
"I didn't have a choice!" I cried. But in my haste to get up, my clothing caught beneath my foot, my balance disrupted. I could have cursed aloud; my entire crusade to implement a change in our relationship would become laughable with one ungraceful splat.
He had already turned his back, but the next thing I knew I was encircled by his arms, my face cushioned by his chest. Even after all I had said, he had not let me fall…
"No. You didn't." He replied with a flatness that seemed oddly melancholy. I felt a light pressure on the top of my head as he kissed my hair and sighed. His hands were gentle yet commanding as he righted me, and I began to feel a trickle of guilt cooling my anger. I thought if I looked at him I might either become soft, like clay for him to mold, or my anger would boil over. So my eyes remained on the plank floor, and I listened as he walked inside.
Throughout the morning and afternoon we were careful not to speak or see one another. I carried his food into the room for him and left, not accompanying him during the meal as I usually did. I did not want to rekindle my dispute with him; at the moment, I did not think I had asked for too much, but if I opened my mouth again, the destruction might be irreparable. As it was, my complaint about our marriage bothered me. This was what fate had to offer me, and for all my dissatisfaction with it, I was lucky. My husband was, I had only been able to admit recently, an attractive man, with his confidence, strength, and thin, angled figure. He had a job that paid reasonably well for the moment, dangerous though it was. And most importantly, there was something malleable inside of him that, when touched upon, might bend ever so slightly. I had seen it with the cigarettes - my extreme distaste of them had triggered a change instinctively, and he now only smoked outside. It was this thought that spurred me to speak so openly this morning, hoping I could find his iron will and reshape it, ever so slightly. Now it needed time to solidify, but I could wait. Wolves are not the only creatures with patience.
A vicious knock at the front of the house caught my attention. I was quite sure my husband had been outside, but he was difficult to keep track of in his silence. As I made my way to see who it was, two voices began to speak, one a stranger, the other the deliberate aloofness of my husband.
"We're off tonight!"
"Tonight? I thought we were talking care of that in three days."
"The plans have changed. You know how things are. He'll only be in Kyoto until tomorrow morning."
"Hm. Any word if the Ishin know?"
"No. That's why the meeting was moved last minute. Our spies haven't contacted us which means they're preparing for something. Maybe even tonight. Either way, this meeting has to happen. Oh, Hijikata needs to speak with the commanders beforehand too."
"Fine."
"We need to hurry."
"Mm."
Feet pattered away across the stones and I felt my heart sink. Had my attempts failed miserably? I could not bear to live a life of silence, ignored by my husband.
I walked back through the quiet household to the kitchen, where I had been cleaning after making a set of cakes. My feet were heavy, my spirit crushed. What I had thought would open his eyes to change had done nothing… nothing but make things worse. Surely now he loathed me, for my rejection and my criticism.
The sudden sliding of the door startled me and I gasped, spinning around to see who had crept up on me. My stomach twisted in fear, and then in confusion when I realized it was him. But, I thought, I just heard him run off with the messenger, seconds before! Unless there had been more than one messenger at the door…
"I have to leave." His voice pulled me out of the possibilities circling in my mind. A cloth in hand, he was stacking my fresh cakes, preparing to wrap them. I stood there gaping stupidly, unable to mobilize myself in the wake of his actions. He had spoken to me?
"No, no," I had been watching him package the food and could tell they would be crushed and cracked in an instant. Without thinking, I moved over and took the desserts from him, feeling my heart skip involuntarily when my fingers brushed against his hand. "You won't hold yourself on these alone; I'll wrap you some heavier food."
"Tonight I'm meeting with Hijikata, to go over plans." He continued as if he did not notice I had taken the food from him. Perhaps he was glad that I was using my expertise to ensure his meal arrived at his destination in one piece - or perhaps he dared not admit that he only wanted to take the sweets with him and was trying to avoid another reprimand. There was a pause, but I was too busy with my bustling to notice it. He seemed to sense my question without my asking it, as he explained. "Hijikata is my superior."
"Ah." I said, at last finding my tongue. I was focusing entirely on the food; afraid if I did anything else I would make a fool of myself. "There, that will be much better." I proceeded to cross the kitchen, to where I had left the cakes to cool, intending to pack one or two as a treat. His low voice struggled to speak again, as if he did not know exactly what to tell me, but knew he must say something.
"It will take all night."
"Are you bringing something to drink?"
"Yes."
"Good." I handed him the food, neatly packed in a little cloth bundle. "There."
"Do not wait up for me." He turned and made for the front door at his leisurely pace; as he left, my insides seemed to be leaving with him. I do not think he could know the simple joy he had brought me by sharing those few words with me, and I did not want it to end - so I followed him.
"How dangerous is this going to be?" I asked, trailing behind.
"Honestly?" He snorted. "Hardly worth my time."
"Even so, I will still worry-" I did not finish, realizing the admission I was about to make surprised me into biting my tongue to stop myself. But why shouldn't I say such a thing? I was married to him, wasn't I?
"Worry?" There was surprise in his voice, as if the concept that I might worry had never occurred to him before. "Ehh… well… if you must." His words brought a smile to my lips - a genuine smile I had not felt since the day we married. For once, he seemed not to know what to say.
He was about to step across the threshold when I gathered enough courage to grab his sleeve.
"Wait…" He stopped, but did not turn around. My head spun with apprehension, but I knew he would not scoff at me, and I understood what his reaction would be. His silence would no longer mean indifference, and every word he said would be treasured. He had done what I requested, and never could I ask for any more! It was my turn - I would learn to fully understand the meanings of silence, just as I would learn to endure the taste of his cigarettes. My conscience finally felt clear as we stood there in the doorway, and I wanted desperately to thank him. But all the words I could think of were so trivial in my mind!
Standing on my toes, a difficult task in my shoes, I managed to reach his cheekbone with my lips and leave a soft kiss on his face. "Please be safe."
I sank back onto my feet; we did not move, and I suspected he did not know what to do with himself as I stood there, still clinging to his sleeve.
"Mm." He agreed at last to my request with a short hum, before he stepped out the door. I let go of his clothing, but I remained in the doorway to watch him depart, a surge of unbridled joy rising to the surface. I must have looked ridiculous, grinning from ear to ear like a monkey, but it was hopeless to explain. The truth was exposed. Okita could not have lied, and my instincts had not been wrong. Something inside that man was malleable, and in my blundering attempts to unearth it, I had discovered what it was.
His heart.
