I keep forgetting to put this in…

Disclaimer:  The characters of Rurouni Kenshin belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki.

Kyodai --- Brothers --- Chapter Three

"Be a good boy for Sanosuke and Fujita-san.  Okay, Outa?"  Uki knelt before her beloved ototo, straightening a kimono that didn't need straightening, determined not to let a single tear fall.  "Listen to everything Kaoru-dono tells you.  I know you'll make me proud."

Outa gave his onesan a big hug, too excited at the prospect of his first journey to prolong it.  He gave her a quick kiss, then ran to join his father.

"Are you ready to go to Tokyo, Outa?" Higashidani asked to the little face peering up at him.  He smiled at the eager nodding that answered him.  The smile vanished as he looked up to see Uki disappear into the house, her back to him physically and spiritually.  There would be a silent reunion after the silence of the return trip home alone.  "Okay, then," he perked up, "let's get started."

Faces peered out of windows, through grass blinds pushed aside, from behind crops lush with maturity and care as father and son made their way for the main road.

"Well, if it isn't our little Outa off to make his fortune in the big city!"

"Good luck, Outa!"

"Safe journey!"

"Don't forget to come back and see us!"

"Hey!  Higashidani!  On your way back, there's a place I know… "  A yelp followed Goemon's being yanked back into the farmhouse.  His wife's angry, clipped words were thankfully indistinguishable.

"The whole village is happy for you, Outa," Higashidani said when the last house was behind them.

"Uki's not."

"Yes, she is.  Deep down inside that heart of hers, she's happy.  It's just hard for her to say good-bye.  Before you were born… when she was a little girl about your age… she had to say good-bye to Sanosuke, too."

"She doesn't like Sanosuke."

"She's just mad at him.  He never came back to see her.  That's why it's important that you come back and visit sometimes."

"Did oniisan go to Tokyo to go to school, too?"

"Not exactly.  There were things happening back when Sanosuke left home that you'll understand better when you get older.  Sanosuke left to join a man named Sagara Souzou."

"Sagara!  Like Sanosuke's name?"

"Exactly like Sanosuke's name."

"But if he's my brother… why isn't his name Higashidani like ours?"

"Well… that's a long story.  You see, Sagara Souzou was very important to your oniisan.  He taught him all kinds of things… things he couldn't learn here.  Just like you're going to Tokyo to learn.  But then, Sagara was killed… "

"Killed?!"

He would never forget the day the news reached him.  One of the villagers, just back from visiting his sister in another village, had pulled Higashidani out of the warmth of the house and into the chill of an early March morning to tell him quietly of the fate of the Sekihoutai.  Of the son he had lost to the hopes and dreams of an idealist… there was no reason to hope Sanosuke had survived.

His first reaction had crushed his spirit and squeezed his heart until he had felt it as a choking lump in his throat.  Memories of a spirited boy, discontent with his lot in life, as much of a dreamer as the hero he had run to, had rushed to fill Higashidani's head and blind him as certainly as the tears had flooded his eyes.  Then had come the anger, much more personal than that of the other villagers, towards a man who had lied.  Far worse than any promises of money burdens being lifted, Sagara had deceived an impressionable boy, given Sanosuke hope for a future that was not his to give, and then gotten him killed.

Higashidani sighed and looked down at Outa, who still expected an explanation.  It did not matter that more than ten years had passed since then… that Sanosuke had survived… that it had been the Imperialists who had lied.  Sagara had still stolen a man's most prized treasure… his first-born son.

"Ask your oniisan about him," not trusting his ability to either tell the story straight or with a steady voice.

"Okay, otosan."

"Later, Outa… not the moment you see him, okay?" 

For Sanosuke, the memories were very different, and still very close to the surface.  It was going to be difficult enough adjusting to the responsibility of being an older brother without Outa's new curiosity about a dead mentor being thrust into his face as greeting.  And, as long as Sanosuke continued to live in that world of ten years ago…

Higashidani remembered what he had told Sanosuke, just before they had parted ways after their eventful reunion… 'A man grows up looking at the back of the man in front of him. You've been watching the backs of some good men.'  He laughed to himself, at how much he could never have guessed at.  Sanosuke hadn't just been watching the backs of men.  He had been participating in history.

Had it been only three weeks ago when he had traveled down this road and into his eldest son's world?

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Higashidani paused in the street before the house he had been told to look for.  He had not expected it to be easy to find his son… Tokyo was like a thousand Shinshuu villages put together… but it had been easier than expected.  No one seemed to know Sagara Sanosuke, but plenty of people… too many?… knew of a fighter who wore a white gi with the aku kanji on his back.

Zanza.

The kid had a reputation, if the looks on the faces had told him true.  So, that bastard, Tani, knew what he was crying about.  Higashidani smiled in satisfaction, allowing himself a small measure of fatherly pride.  Sanosuke might carry Sagara Souzou's name, but his blood was pure Higashidani.

From among the children on the streets, however, his son seemed to have developed quite a following.  At questions of Zanza, their faces had lit up and they had bounced in their steps as they led him to the boarding houses of Ruffians' Row, telling him of Zanza's fearlessness, his strength.  They had nothing to fear from him.  He was their protector.  He was their friend.

"Nope.  He hasn't been around for quite some time," the landlord had told Higashidani.  "Started hanging around with some red-headed little swordsman.  Can't be up to any good.  A nasty-lookin' cop hung around here for a while, then both he and Zanza disappeared sudden-like.  Haven't seen the redhead, either.  There's an artist friend who comes around to pay his rent, though.  You might try him."

"I know where Tsukioka lives," a little boy had piped up.  "Come on!  I'll take you to him."

Countless streets later, Higashidani had found himself staring into surprised green eyes.  "What do you want with Zanza?" Tsukioka had warily asked.

"He's my son… Sagara Sanosuke."

Higashidani hadn't known what to make of the grin that had quickly broken into a smile.  Nor the amused tone in the comment, "So you're Sano's father."

His experience with artists was non-existent, and for the life of him, Higashidani could not imagine how his son could have come into contact with one, especially one willing to pay his rent.  From all he had ever heard, artists were illusive and bad-tempered, preferring to live in the floating world they created, perpetually broke.  Surely the only reason for this one's generosity lay in Sanosuke's skill as a kenkaya.

Whatever the reason and no matter the strangeness of an artist's life, Higashidani had trusted the man not to lead him astray.  He would find his son here.

It was a simple house, but luxurious by comparison to anything Higashidani had ever known.  Tani's hastily built mansion was mere trash against the time-honored traditions of wood and tile and straight lines that gave this house utter beauty.  Nestled in a small copse of trees, he could imagine the cool, pine-scented breezes that would flow through open shoji, bringing rest to body and mind.

Like music draws the listener, the thought of being cool and refreshed pushed Higashidani towards the doorway.  He rapped loudly on the wood and waited anxiously.

The shoji opened.

"Dad?"

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Footnotes:  Higashidani's quote about watching the backs of good men comes from the manga (obviously… I wish they had brought Sanosuke's family into the anime), Volume 26 – A Man's Back 7, Chapter 234 – The Back Speaks, as translated by Maigo-chan.

Ukiyo-e, from which nishiki-e was derived, were pictures of the "floating world."  They are the woodblock print images from which we derive so much of our view of the Edo (and earlier) periods and associate with Japanese art.  Nishiki-e, which Katsu becomes famous for, came about as a means to produce prints very quickly (a result of a race among publishers to get calendars out before the others).  The lives of ukiyo-e artists were difficult at best and more often than not they were destitute.  I hope soon to write a story about Katsu's life as an artist.

There is a house that I like to think of Saitoh and Sanosuke living in.  It was Lafcadio Hearn's (also known as Yakumo) summer house, and while it was not built in Tokyo, I transplanted it there.  If you are curious to see a house built in 1868 that was typical of what we think of as middle class (possibly on the upper end), do a Google search using "summering house of Lafcadio Hearn" (include the quotation marks).  The first site should take you directly to the house.  While you are there, check out the other Meiji buildings located on the Meijimura museum grounds.  If you just **have** to see it and can't get there, contact me and I will send the URL (be sure I have an email address to send it to).

Mibu no Ame