Chapter 1: Part 2
"Very well," the policeman approved. "The rail line has recently granted us access to Tokyo, though it's restricted to those who can afford it, which means pompous diplomats and tycoons. Anyway, I'd wager you've exchanged your kronas for yen."
"Yeah," Wilkholm confirmed.
"Go to the station and ask for Tokyo. Tell them you're here on police business, and they'll let you by. When you get to Tokyo, you could ask around for the Kamiya Kasshin dojo, or Kenshin Himura. I just hope you know what you're doing, Tomas. I honestly had no idea what was going on, and it's very, very hard to be better at intelligence gathering than I am. Good luck, and don't get yourself killed."
"You still think this is all foolishness, don't you?" the Swede accused.
"You're one-hundred-percent correct. I'm just following orders from the higher-ups who don't want their superiors to know what's going on, whether it is or not," Saito half-growled. The knight was offended.
"Very well. I'll be leaving then. I've done well to pack heavy. There's five more weapons on me besides my pike, Hajime. And two of them can blow your brains out. The rest of my luggage is already at the station. Good evening."
The foreigner got up and left for the ticket counters with no further reaction from the policeman. The reunion wasn't a friendly one. It'd been a long time since Wilkholm had spoken with Saito. Their last rendezvous was prior to the revolution. The two had just been boys, Tomas seven and Hajime eleven. The young Saito had been impressed by the skill shown by a son of two Swedish nobles visiting Japan just after it had been reopened to the world. They didn't speak the same tongue, but still communicated well. Calling each other by name for that one day, the youths compared skill with simple wooden weapons. Wilkholm had already been Saito's height, despite the four-year gap in their ages. They got along very well, but then had to nearly forget about each other for twenty-four years. Tomas' wealthy family allowed for the two to correspond by translated letters once each year, though the knight could now read and write Japanese. The Swede had known about his friend's marriage, and the Japanese man was informed likewise of the Scandinavian union of souls that had occurred several years prior.
"I just hope he hasn't decided to hang me out to dry," Wilkholm said finally as he reached the station. Four large suitcases were waiting by the rails. These things contained his extra clothes and weapons, as well as a few personal articles and a few stacks of paperwork that were virtually equivalent to books. The foreigner walked over to the closing ticket counter, and put some yen down on the ledge.
"One ticket to Tokyo. First class. I'm here on police business."
"Sir, you need to be a VIP to ride this late, and..." the clerk began, and then began to gape at Tomas' immense size. The man threw the ticket to Wilkholm as if it were going to bite him. "Err...I'm sure someone of your... uhh... stature has somewhere important to go! Please enjoy your train ride! It'll be here in just a few! Good evening!"
"Well, that was odd," the Swede commented as the man slammed down the window of the booth and ran off frantically. "You'd think he'd never seen somebody over six feet before. I just hope I'm not taking a seat from anyone who's actually important."
Tomas picked up his suitcases, one in each hand and one under each arm, and waited for about fifteen minutes. A train finally pulled in, and the doors were opened by a sleepy conductor. Wilkholm tossed him the ticket stub as he awoke with a start. The Japanese man shook as the knight boarded the train, and slowly drew back from the door.
"Th-th-this train is bound for T-Tokyo, sir," the far shorter railroad employee called in after him. "I-is that y-your int-inte-intended d-destination?"
"Yes, thank you very much."
"Y-you're w-welcome!"
"Perhaps the moonlight makes me look really imposing. I don't need them to get all frightened of someone who's gonna be a big help in the near future," the Nordic soldier wondered as the doors were closed reluctantly and he set down his baggage in his own private car. The train started up, and Tomas took a seat. It was certainly a nice car. There were ornate wrought-iron lanterns inside, and they cast a soft yellow glow on their surroundings. The seats were all upholstered in fine cotton cloth, and very comfortable. Wilkholm took a glance at the people in the adjacent segment of the train. They were all in formal dress. Apparently this was a banquet trip. He wasn't amused.
"How ridiculous. The rich of the rest of the planet just have to make everything into a fancy affair. They make the galas my parents still attend look humble. Oh well. I need a good rest."
Tomas leaned against the window and fell asleep after gazing at the countryside for what seemed like hours. The landscape wasn't very interesting after dark, and it was nearly midnight. Wilkholm didn't dream about Yanalimov's Cossacks, or Marihama's manslayers, or his noble upbringing, or even his encounter with Saito. Instead, he saw himself with his wife when the two were in their teens. It was spring outside of Stockholm, Sweden's capital. The trees were full of green leaves, and the couple sat on a river bank, their backs to a great, green meadow, with snowcapped mountains in the distance. They were dressed in simple European clothes. Elena's light blonde hair was adorned with a wreath of flowers. She smiled at him, and her big green eyes stared deep into his own. He grinned back, and they began to laugh. In unison, the young lovers looked across the river towards the forest. On the opposite bank, Tomas saw another pair. They looked slightly older, though, and they were Japanese. The man had long red hair done into a ponytail, oddly purple eyes, and a cross-shaped scar on his cheek. He wore a plain robe, with a sword at his waist. The girl whose head was on the mystery man's shoulder had black hair and strangely blue eyes. She was wearing a red kimono, and had her hair in a blue ribbon. The two sets of lovers met eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
And there you are. I've got a good idea of where I want to take this, so:
Whatcha think? I'd like some reviews, if you could. You can bet the next chapter will be more interesting.
I promise!
"Very well," the policeman approved. "The rail line has recently granted us access to Tokyo, though it's restricted to those who can afford it, which means pompous diplomats and tycoons. Anyway, I'd wager you've exchanged your kronas for yen."
"Yeah," Wilkholm confirmed.
"Go to the station and ask for Tokyo. Tell them you're here on police business, and they'll let you by. When you get to Tokyo, you could ask around for the Kamiya Kasshin dojo, or Kenshin Himura. I just hope you know what you're doing, Tomas. I honestly had no idea what was going on, and it's very, very hard to be better at intelligence gathering than I am. Good luck, and don't get yourself killed."
"You still think this is all foolishness, don't you?" the Swede accused.
"You're one-hundred-percent correct. I'm just following orders from the higher-ups who don't want their superiors to know what's going on, whether it is or not," Saito half-growled. The knight was offended.
"Very well. I'll be leaving then. I've done well to pack heavy. There's five more weapons on me besides my pike, Hajime. And two of them can blow your brains out. The rest of my luggage is already at the station. Good evening."
The foreigner got up and left for the ticket counters with no further reaction from the policeman. The reunion wasn't a friendly one. It'd been a long time since Wilkholm had spoken with Saito. Their last rendezvous was prior to the revolution. The two had just been boys, Tomas seven and Hajime eleven. The young Saito had been impressed by the skill shown by a son of two Swedish nobles visiting Japan just after it had been reopened to the world. They didn't speak the same tongue, but still communicated well. Calling each other by name for that one day, the youths compared skill with simple wooden weapons. Wilkholm had already been Saito's height, despite the four-year gap in their ages. They got along very well, but then had to nearly forget about each other for twenty-four years. Tomas' wealthy family allowed for the two to correspond by translated letters once each year, though the knight could now read and write Japanese. The Swede had known about his friend's marriage, and the Japanese man was informed likewise of the Scandinavian union of souls that had occurred several years prior.
"I just hope he hasn't decided to hang me out to dry," Wilkholm said finally as he reached the station. Four large suitcases were waiting by the rails. These things contained his extra clothes and weapons, as well as a few personal articles and a few stacks of paperwork that were virtually equivalent to books. The foreigner walked over to the closing ticket counter, and put some yen down on the ledge.
"One ticket to Tokyo. First class. I'm here on police business."
"Sir, you need to be a VIP to ride this late, and..." the clerk began, and then began to gape at Tomas' immense size. The man threw the ticket to Wilkholm as if it were going to bite him. "Err...I'm sure someone of your... uhh... stature has somewhere important to go! Please enjoy your train ride! It'll be here in just a few! Good evening!"
"Well, that was odd," the Swede commented as the man slammed down the window of the booth and ran off frantically. "You'd think he'd never seen somebody over six feet before. I just hope I'm not taking a seat from anyone who's actually important."
Tomas picked up his suitcases, one in each hand and one under each arm, and waited for about fifteen minutes. A train finally pulled in, and the doors were opened by a sleepy conductor. Wilkholm tossed him the ticket stub as he awoke with a start. The Japanese man shook as the knight boarded the train, and slowly drew back from the door.
"Th-th-this train is bound for T-Tokyo, sir," the far shorter railroad employee called in after him. "I-is that y-your int-inte-intended d-destination?"
"Yes, thank you very much."
"Y-you're w-welcome!"
"Perhaps the moonlight makes me look really imposing. I don't need them to get all frightened of someone who's gonna be a big help in the near future," the Nordic soldier wondered as the doors were closed reluctantly and he set down his baggage in his own private car. The train started up, and Tomas took a seat. It was certainly a nice car. There were ornate wrought-iron lanterns inside, and they cast a soft yellow glow on their surroundings. The seats were all upholstered in fine cotton cloth, and very comfortable. Wilkholm took a glance at the people in the adjacent segment of the train. They were all in formal dress. Apparently this was a banquet trip. He wasn't amused.
"How ridiculous. The rich of the rest of the planet just have to make everything into a fancy affair. They make the galas my parents still attend look humble. Oh well. I need a good rest."
Tomas leaned against the window and fell asleep after gazing at the countryside for what seemed like hours. The landscape wasn't very interesting after dark, and it was nearly midnight. Wilkholm didn't dream about Yanalimov's Cossacks, or Marihama's manslayers, or his noble upbringing, or even his encounter with Saito. Instead, he saw himself with his wife when the two were in their teens. It was spring outside of Stockholm, Sweden's capital. The trees were full of green leaves, and the couple sat on a river bank, their backs to a great, green meadow, with snowcapped mountains in the distance. They were dressed in simple European clothes. Elena's light blonde hair was adorned with a wreath of flowers. She smiled at him, and her big green eyes stared deep into his own. He grinned back, and they began to laugh. In unison, the young lovers looked across the river towards the forest. On the opposite bank, Tomas saw another pair. They looked slightly older, though, and they were Japanese. The man had long red hair done into a ponytail, oddly purple eyes, and a cross-shaped scar on his cheek. He wore a plain robe, with a sword at his waist. The girl whose head was on the mystery man's shoulder had black hair and strangely blue eyes. She was wearing a red kimono, and had her hair in a blue ribbon. The two sets of lovers met eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~
And there you are. I've got a good idea of where I want to take this, so:
Whatcha think? I'd like some reviews, if you could. You can bet the next chapter will be more interesting.
I promise!