Hello everybody! This one came to me quickly, at the expense of school
reading. That's OK, I'll find a way to make up for it. ^^ I'll be a good
student again, and you won't hear from me for quite a while, so I'm making
the most out of the inspiration I get. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
Everything in italics is supposed to be English.
.............
Mr. Yorkshire was back in his small room, at a hotel near the British embassy.
He left the Kamiya dojo a little after lunch, a few hours after the short fight with Himura. He clarified a few more details with Saitou, and asked for his cooperation for a mission sometime the next day. He also left a note on the kitchen table. By then the Himuras were no longer there, but had moved their conversation and discussion to the bedroom.
The note read as follows:
"I went back to the hotel. I really have to remember those codes, so please forgive my sudden departure. In the meantime, here are a few instructions:
"I understand Shinomori and Seta are coming over. Wait for them. When they arrive, inform them about the situation. Plan an attack on the warehouse and an extraction of the boy, either tonight or tomorrow. Coordinate with Saitou regarding police backup. I have enclosed the map and the diagram Misao has left with Saitou. Misao is the head of the operation. Not because I am partial to her, but because by now she is the one most informed about details.
"Do not tell me your plans. Just do them. The less I know, the better. I only ask that you do nothing before I arrive there. As you have heard from Saitou, I have what they want. I will try to negotiate with our target. After that, do what you will. I leave it to your judgment when to attack and how.
"One final thing. Do not let the parents be seen with weapons for as long as possible. It might be seen as a breach of confidence. I know I am asking a hard thing of two swordsmen, but it is necessary for ultimate success. The target knows that both of them are handy with a sword, so seeing them with swords might spell trouble for the boy. Have someone else carry their swords, until they can safely get them.
"Send either parent to me when you are ready.
"If I do not see her again, send Misao my love and my thanks. I am grateful that she came.
"To all of you, I apologize for the inconvenience I have caused. I will try my best to repay your kindness.
"Yukishiro Enishi."
The rationale was this. Wu would be ready for an attack, planned and executed by his former boss. He knew his techniques; he made most of his strategies happen. But he would not know too well how Himura and his associates would attack. Thus, the former boss left Himura and his associates in charge. He knew Misao was a reliable ninja, and capable of handling the task.
Besides, even if he were in charge of the operation, he did not know himself what he would do. He chose to concentrate on remembering what only he knew. In any case, it would be better that way. He knew what was coming to him. He would be killed, as soon as they got the codes from him. It would be wiser if he could manage to be killed alone.
He reported for work at the embassy, but told his co-workers he would work on his pending translation projects at the hotel. He felt rather sick, and would be able to work more comfortably there.
He did feel rather sick. The pressure of remembering and two full glasses of Bordeaux did not make a good combination. On the dining table was strewn sheets of white paper. He had filled most of them with pencil markings. Names, words, letters, and numbers. Most were not connected to each other, but he kept writing and writing them, in the hopes that he would make an association between any two.
He poured himself another glass of the red wine, then returned to the table.
The wine reminded him of some he was given by a white man, a few months ago, back in Shanghai. He was an American, some of the worst kind of white man, but he had something good to offer, and Enishi had to listen.
"Here's the deal," the American began in very accented English, rather difficult to understand in French-British territory, "You've got a lot of good guns, bullets, and cannons in your portfolio right here. They're better than some of those things I've seen from France and Germany. I'm wiling to go the extra mile and ship your stuff over. Some fellas I know will be willing to pay big money to have one of the pistols I've seen here."
"But are the white men willing to pay much for Chinese goods?" Enishi asked him then.
"Hey, they already pay for opium, don't they? And a lot of those fancy ladies pay big dollars for those blue and white plates. Maybe to some of them I won't say that a couple of Chinamen made that gun they hold, but you'll still be paid handsomely for them."
If only this annoying man would stop maligning the Chinese already. It was already bad enough that Chinese malign Japanese. Enishi had had to prove himself useful to the Shanghai mafia, the hard way.
But with the offer the Yankee provided, Enishi considered the possibility of bringing down a large weapons trade to America. Why not? News coming from the Americas told of much violence in many areas. Maybe an insignificant Japanese businessman could make a small difference, and help end the cycle of wars he once helped to foster around Asia with his weapons.
"The offer is good," Enishi had agreed, after reading through the man's documents. "We have a deal."
The American then pumped his hand hard, and poured out a glass of red wine for each of them. "A toast, to a successful international connection."
"Kampai," Enishi accepted.
The white man handed him a small envelope.
"Remember the codes inside, then burn the paper," he said with a knowing grin. "One of those numbers will make you the richest Chinaman in no time."
"I am Japanese, sir," Enishi had replied with a little irritation.
"Whatever," the man patted him hard on the back. "You'll be richer than you ever were, just wasting your time here. I happen to like you, young man. You could pass for a Yankee, with that look and that attitude. Don't waste it. There's plenty of good pickings in California, and there are a lot of good fights in New York. Your products will find a lot of eager customers."
Enishi did consider it then. If he were still really and truly a mafia boss, he would have jumped at the offer. But the rich pickings of illegal trade no longer appealed to him. "You will hear from me sometime," was all he said.
"Just give us a wire, will you, chap, when you decide to visit Miss Liberty. We'll get the best steak ready for you," the man gave him a final heavy slap on the back, and left his office.
Enishi then opened the envelope. A long scrap of paper was inside, and contained two four-digit numbers, and what they meant.....that was it!
Now he remembered those numbers, as clearly as when he first read them.
It was such a shock that he found himself suddenly awake, with the papers scattered around him, and the early morning sun warming him through the window. He quickly wrote down the two numbers, and memorized them again. That done, he dragged himself to bed. He was not sure if he had slept, but he did not feel rested at all. He flopped himself over the covers, and shut his eyes.
"Nee-san, wait for me, wherever you are. If things don't turn out well, I'll be joining you shortly. But before I do, I'll make sure that little Kenji is fine. That's how you would have wanted it, anyway, right, nee-san? See, I'll be helping Himura get his little boy back. For once, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I want all this craziness to end already. Don't get mad, nee-san, but I want to have a nice life with the weasel already, away from all this, away from bad memories. It must be the wine, but I'm ranting terribly, nee-san. Kaoru-san is quite right. You'll always be a part of me, nee-san, but I shouldn't let my thoughts of you run my life. Soon all this will be over, and I will be my own man, I promise. Just wait for me, nee-san, and see what happens, alright?"
He then fell into dreamless, thoughtless sleep.
He did not know how long he had slept, but eventually he heard someone knocking behind his hotel room door.
"Mr. Yorkshire?"
A woman.
Judging from the sunlight through the open window, he had been asleep for only a few hours. It was probably midday already. Go away, weasel, he was inclined to say. Why won't you ever leave me alone? Why do you always get on my nerves? Why do you always manage to be there....just when you should be, not when I want you to be? Why do you always read my mind?
I dunno how I do it, it just happens. Don't worry about it, silly boy! She answered in his head with a wink and a grin. Now go on and open the door, will you?
The knocking persisted. He grumbled, and got out of bed. "No translations today!" he said in annoyed British English from inside. "Oh," wait, the woman sounded like a native. "I apologize. But no translations today," he repeated in foreigner-style Japanese.
"Mr. Yorkshire, we are ready. We are only waiting for you," the woman knocked again.
"I am not accepting new projects right now! Wait for me at the embassy!"
The knocks stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief.
But the voice spoke again. Softly, so only he can hear.
"Enishi."
What? So that could only be.....
"It's Himura Kaoru, remember, Mr. Yorkshire? From several days ago? We are ready. We are only waiting for you. Kenji-kun...Kenji-kun is waiting for you." He heard soft sobs from behind the door.
He quickly grabbed for a bathrobe and opened the door. He found the young woman in a well-worn yellow kimono, and the trails of tears across her face.
"Stop, please, Kami------Himura-san," he begged in regular Japanese. "Stop worrying, Himura-san. We will get him back, today. Now go back to your husband. Tell them I am coming."
"But...but....what if we don't......"
He smiled, more like the way his brother-in-law would. "We will get him back, Himura-san. They will kill me first before they kill him. We will get him back, I swear. Now go."
Yet she remained, and bowed her head. She said softly, "I apologize for shouting at you, Enishi. I wasn't thinking then..."
"Don't apologize, Himura-san. We both needed that, your husband and I. Go."
Finally, the woman smiled behind the tears. "May the gods be with you." She started to walk away.
Enishi did not need divine intervention. The new confidence of his former enemies. The remembrance of the child who accepted him unconditionally. It was enough.
He slipped into a faded brown Western suit, arranged his leather hat and glasses, and took his cane from behind a chair. He took a deep breath, and went on his way.
................
I'm pretty good with writing, but I'm hopeless with drawing. I draw childishly. ^^ Someday I'd really like someone to draw Enishi in a Western, pre-1900's suit, even if I know the image in my head. Anyways, thanks for reading this short chapter. Life is getting busy for me again, so I'll be away for a while. I'll see you all, eventually!
Sabbie--I do hope you get a great announcement in March! Maeko-Nohara and Nanami -- I haven't done an FY fic yet, and I don't know FY that well to try. ^^ Thanks for loving the fic "with all your being", even if I really don't deserve it. Cat H -- I've had TOO much of being down in the dumps myself to flung Kenshin back into it. No original characters this time around from me. Spoilt brats understand each other, that's why uncle and nephew work out well. ^^ JML -- Thanks for the info about shinais and the "Yorkshire" stuff. kenni -- Thanks for all the compliments. Misao will get her limelight, eventually.
Everything in italics is supposed to be English.
.............
Mr. Yorkshire was back in his small room, at a hotel near the British embassy.
He left the Kamiya dojo a little after lunch, a few hours after the short fight with Himura. He clarified a few more details with Saitou, and asked for his cooperation for a mission sometime the next day. He also left a note on the kitchen table. By then the Himuras were no longer there, but had moved their conversation and discussion to the bedroom.
The note read as follows:
"I went back to the hotel. I really have to remember those codes, so please forgive my sudden departure. In the meantime, here are a few instructions:
"I understand Shinomori and Seta are coming over. Wait for them. When they arrive, inform them about the situation. Plan an attack on the warehouse and an extraction of the boy, either tonight or tomorrow. Coordinate with Saitou regarding police backup. I have enclosed the map and the diagram Misao has left with Saitou. Misao is the head of the operation. Not because I am partial to her, but because by now she is the one most informed about details.
"Do not tell me your plans. Just do them. The less I know, the better. I only ask that you do nothing before I arrive there. As you have heard from Saitou, I have what they want. I will try to negotiate with our target. After that, do what you will. I leave it to your judgment when to attack and how.
"One final thing. Do not let the parents be seen with weapons for as long as possible. It might be seen as a breach of confidence. I know I am asking a hard thing of two swordsmen, but it is necessary for ultimate success. The target knows that both of them are handy with a sword, so seeing them with swords might spell trouble for the boy. Have someone else carry their swords, until they can safely get them.
"Send either parent to me when you are ready.
"If I do not see her again, send Misao my love and my thanks. I am grateful that she came.
"To all of you, I apologize for the inconvenience I have caused. I will try my best to repay your kindness.
"Yukishiro Enishi."
The rationale was this. Wu would be ready for an attack, planned and executed by his former boss. He knew his techniques; he made most of his strategies happen. But he would not know too well how Himura and his associates would attack. Thus, the former boss left Himura and his associates in charge. He knew Misao was a reliable ninja, and capable of handling the task.
Besides, even if he were in charge of the operation, he did not know himself what he would do. He chose to concentrate on remembering what only he knew. In any case, it would be better that way. He knew what was coming to him. He would be killed, as soon as they got the codes from him. It would be wiser if he could manage to be killed alone.
He reported for work at the embassy, but told his co-workers he would work on his pending translation projects at the hotel. He felt rather sick, and would be able to work more comfortably there.
He did feel rather sick. The pressure of remembering and two full glasses of Bordeaux did not make a good combination. On the dining table was strewn sheets of white paper. He had filled most of them with pencil markings. Names, words, letters, and numbers. Most were not connected to each other, but he kept writing and writing them, in the hopes that he would make an association between any two.
He poured himself another glass of the red wine, then returned to the table.
The wine reminded him of some he was given by a white man, a few months ago, back in Shanghai. He was an American, some of the worst kind of white man, but he had something good to offer, and Enishi had to listen.
"Here's the deal," the American began in very accented English, rather difficult to understand in French-British territory, "You've got a lot of good guns, bullets, and cannons in your portfolio right here. They're better than some of those things I've seen from France and Germany. I'm wiling to go the extra mile and ship your stuff over. Some fellas I know will be willing to pay big money to have one of the pistols I've seen here."
"But are the white men willing to pay much for Chinese goods?" Enishi asked him then.
"Hey, they already pay for opium, don't they? And a lot of those fancy ladies pay big dollars for those blue and white plates. Maybe to some of them I won't say that a couple of Chinamen made that gun they hold, but you'll still be paid handsomely for them."
If only this annoying man would stop maligning the Chinese already. It was already bad enough that Chinese malign Japanese. Enishi had had to prove himself useful to the Shanghai mafia, the hard way.
But with the offer the Yankee provided, Enishi considered the possibility of bringing down a large weapons trade to America. Why not? News coming from the Americas told of much violence in many areas. Maybe an insignificant Japanese businessman could make a small difference, and help end the cycle of wars he once helped to foster around Asia with his weapons.
"The offer is good," Enishi had agreed, after reading through the man's documents. "We have a deal."
The American then pumped his hand hard, and poured out a glass of red wine for each of them. "A toast, to a successful international connection."
"Kampai," Enishi accepted.
The white man handed him a small envelope.
"Remember the codes inside, then burn the paper," he said with a knowing grin. "One of those numbers will make you the richest Chinaman in no time."
"I am Japanese, sir," Enishi had replied with a little irritation.
"Whatever," the man patted him hard on the back. "You'll be richer than you ever were, just wasting your time here. I happen to like you, young man. You could pass for a Yankee, with that look and that attitude. Don't waste it. There's plenty of good pickings in California, and there are a lot of good fights in New York. Your products will find a lot of eager customers."
Enishi did consider it then. If he were still really and truly a mafia boss, he would have jumped at the offer. But the rich pickings of illegal trade no longer appealed to him. "You will hear from me sometime," was all he said.
"Just give us a wire, will you, chap, when you decide to visit Miss Liberty. We'll get the best steak ready for you," the man gave him a final heavy slap on the back, and left his office.
Enishi then opened the envelope. A long scrap of paper was inside, and contained two four-digit numbers, and what they meant.....that was it!
Now he remembered those numbers, as clearly as when he first read them.
It was such a shock that he found himself suddenly awake, with the papers scattered around him, and the early morning sun warming him through the window. He quickly wrote down the two numbers, and memorized them again. That done, he dragged himself to bed. He was not sure if he had slept, but he did not feel rested at all. He flopped himself over the covers, and shut his eyes.
"Nee-san, wait for me, wherever you are. If things don't turn out well, I'll be joining you shortly. But before I do, I'll make sure that little Kenji is fine. That's how you would have wanted it, anyway, right, nee-san? See, I'll be helping Himura get his little boy back. For once, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I want all this craziness to end already. Don't get mad, nee-san, but I want to have a nice life with the weasel already, away from all this, away from bad memories. It must be the wine, but I'm ranting terribly, nee-san. Kaoru-san is quite right. You'll always be a part of me, nee-san, but I shouldn't let my thoughts of you run my life. Soon all this will be over, and I will be my own man, I promise. Just wait for me, nee-san, and see what happens, alright?"
He then fell into dreamless, thoughtless sleep.
He did not know how long he had slept, but eventually he heard someone knocking behind his hotel room door.
"Mr. Yorkshire?"
A woman.
Judging from the sunlight through the open window, he had been asleep for only a few hours. It was probably midday already. Go away, weasel, he was inclined to say. Why won't you ever leave me alone? Why do you always get on my nerves? Why do you always manage to be there....just when you should be, not when I want you to be? Why do you always read my mind?
I dunno how I do it, it just happens. Don't worry about it, silly boy! She answered in his head with a wink and a grin. Now go on and open the door, will you?
The knocking persisted. He grumbled, and got out of bed. "No translations today!" he said in annoyed British English from inside. "Oh," wait, the woman sounded like a native. "I apologize. But no translations today," he repeated in foreigner-style Japanese.
"Mr. Yorkshire, we are ready. We are only waiting for you," the woman knocked again.
"I am not accepting new projects right now! Wait for me at the embassy!"
The knocks stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief.
But the voice spoke again. Softly, so only he can hear.
"Enishi."
What? So that could only be.....
"It's Himura Kaoru, remember, Mr. Yorkshire? From several days ago? We are ready. We are only waiting for you. Kenji-kun...Kenji-kun is waiting for you." He heard soft sobs from behind the door.
He quickly grabbed for a bathrobe and opened the door. He found the young woman in a well-worn yellow kimono, and the trails of tears across her face.
"Stop, please, Kami------Himura-san," he begged in regular Japanese. "Stop worrying, Himura-san. We will get him back, today. Now go back to your husband. Tell them I am coming."
"But...but....what if we don't......"
He smiled, more like the way his brother-in-law would. "We will get him back, Himura-san. They will kill me first before they kill him. We will get him back, I swear. Now go."
Yet she remained, and bowed her head. She said softly, "I apologize for shouting at you, Enishi. I wasn't thinking then..."
"Don't apologize, Himura-san. We both needed that, your husband and I. Go."
Finally, the woman smiled behind the tears. "May the gods be with you." She started to walk away.
Enishi did not need divine intervention. The new confidence of his former enemies. The remembrance of the child who accepted him unconditionally. It was enough.
He slipped into a faded brown Western suit, arranged his leather hat and glasses, and took his cane from behind a chair. He took a deep breath, and went on his way.
................
I'm pretty good with writing, but I'm hopeless with drawing. I draw childishly. ^^ Someday I'd really like someone to draw Enishi in a Western, pre-1900's suit, even if I know the image in my head. Anyways, thanks for reading this short chapter. Life is getting busy for me again, so I'll be away for a while. I'll see you all, eventually!
Sabbie--I do hope you get a great announcement in March! Maeko-Nohara and Nanami -- I haven't done an FY fic yet, and I don't know FY that well to try. ^^ Thanks for loving the fic "with all your being", even if I really don't deserve it. Cat H -- I've had TOO much of being down in the dumps myself to flung Kenshin back into it. No original characters this time around from me. Spoilt brats understand each other, that's why uncle and nephew work out well. ^^ JML -- Thanks for the info about shinais and the "Yorkshire" stuff. kenni -- Thanks for all the compliments. Misao will get her limelight, eventually.