Chapter 12

Akane worked the kitchen, brisk and efficient as always, but her mind was elsewhere. She'd put Eiko and Aki both on serving duty to give herself some time to think. She'd been tremendously relieved to see Eri, but the state her friend had been in had worried her even more. Eri had done her hair fast, a simple braid with strands flying out in every direction, a far cry from her usual elaborate hairstyles. She was wearing a nice kimono, but she'd obviously just thrown it on over her yukata and knotted the obi haphazardly in back. And she'd looked really flustered.

'I need to talk to Himura-san,' Eri had said. And she'd refused to explain any further, shooting a meaningful look at Aki and Eiko, who had both been watching her with wide curious eyes. So Akane had led her and Kenshin upstairs and set the three of them up with some tea in the other front room next to her bedroom, the one she used as an office.

But Eri had looked at her apologetically and said, "In private, please." She'd apologised sincerely and promised Akane a full explanation later, when there was time. So Akane had left, reluctantly, telling Eri to just yell if she needed anything.

They'd been up there for an hour now. What could they possibly be talking about? Akane wondered, as she drained three orders of hot soba noodles into bowls and added the broth and toppings. She could cook in her sleep, fortunately, so her preoccupation would not lead to any unhappy customers. Eiko came for the tray of soba and Akane filled another teapot. At that moment she heard a door rattle open upstairs. Finally! She plonked down the teapot and swished under the half-curtained kitchen doorway into the foyer, hurrying Eiko in front of her.

Kenshin was coming down the stairs, one hand on the wall, followed by Eri. Akane searched her friend's face. Eri looked calmer now, her eyes no longer panicky, but she wasn't relaxed either. She looked determined. She was definitely up to something. Akane glanced down from her friend to Kenshin. He looked concerned, his eyebrows quirked and his lips pressed together. He looked up then and met her eyes.

"I'll need my sword, that I will, Akane-dono."

o-o-o

Kenshin meandered slowly down the market street, checking out the shops in a way that he hoped appeared casual. In truth, he was watching and listening carefully, trying to pick up on the gossip. He had started near the harbor, working his way up over the course of a couple of hours to where the shops petered out on the eastern edge of town, and was starting back downhill now. The morning's rain had long since passed and the clouds were starting to break up now, letting through watery golden shafts of light from the afternoon sun. The promise of sunshine had brought people outside, filling the street.

Eri had told him everything.

The Yukawas had been samurai, well-established, an old family. Shinichiro had gone to Kyoto in the late spring of the last year of Bakumatsu to fight on behalf of his lord. Eri had stayed behind, of course, through the summer and autumn. Things had started to collapse after that, with the surrender of Tokugawa; a power struggle in their district had shifted opinion drastically and she'd been forced to flee, leaving everything behind. She'd been lucky to track down Shinichiro on his way back home, before he could return to an unwelcoming (and potentially fatal) homecoming. They'd spent the next year wandering, eventually settling here in this village, with the help of the Tobes.

A few things had slotted into place in Kenshin's mind -- Shinichiro's reaction to him, of course, but also the way Eri had been eyeing his sword curiously in Hideki's warehouse that first day. But there was more, much more than he could have guessed.

A little over a week ago, three men had come to town on horseback. Three samurai. They had visited Shinichiro at home while Eri was out; she'd just met them leaving when she'd returned. Shinichiro had brooded about it for two days, tight-lipped, refusing to discuss the incident with Eri. But she'd known that something was up.

But then he'd met Kenshin. That sudden reminder of the tumultuous past had pushed Shinichiro over. He'd gone out early the next morning, with a strange look in his eyes, telling Eri only that he had some errands to run. Eri guessed what was happening and checked: Shinichiro had taken his swords, unused for these last eight years, out from the cupboard in their bedroom. She had pulled out all the stops then, spending the day coursing the town for gossip. Shinichiro didn't return until very late, his clothes dusty and his eyes hard. The next morning she'd followed him, spying hidden while he met the three samurai in their inn. Then the four of them had gone out together; she'd trailed them as far as the edge of the woods. The same had happened the day after. That brought them to today.

Kenshin felt terrible about it. Eri had told him all this, and then asked him for advice about what she should do. Somehow she thought that, as a fellow (ex-)warrior, he could give her some words of wisdom. Wisdom he couldn't offer, but help he could. This was his fault. He would do everything he could to put it right.

There was more. Today had been a little different. Shinichiro had left early by himself, heading off towards the woods rather than stopping first at the inn. Eri had gathered from some eavesdropped conversation that something significant was happening tonight, though she hadn't been able to find out what. So Kenshin had gone out with her, to comb the markets for information.

A sudden tug on his sleeve nearly made Kenshin jump out of his skin.

"Eri-dono! You startled me, that you did." She had managed to sneak up on him, despite the wooden clogs she was wearing. He must still be spaced out, not quite fully recovered. He'd better get back to normal soon; otherwise this could be a problem.

"They're having dinner in the inn," Eri told him in a low quiet voice, bending down a little to talk conspiratorially into his ear. "Two of them are there already and I just saw Sakurai crossing the street." Sakurai was the youngest of the three, tall and handsome with long black hair, or so Kenshin had gathered. He seemed to be the main object of conversation among the shop girls today. "They know what I look like; you'll have to go."

"Oro?" Kenshin looked up at her cluelessly.

Eri rolled her gray eyes, clapping a hand to her forehead. "Go have dinner at the inn so you can listen to their conversation," she spelled it out. "You're broke, right? Here--" she fished some money out of the sleeve of her striped green kimono and handed it to him-- "now get going before they start!"

"Arigatou gozaimas'--" he stammered as she gave him a push across the street. She was already hurrying off up the street, glancing back at him to nod encouragingly. Well, all right then, Kenshin thought.

o-o-o

The restaurant that occupied the ground floor of the inn was quite fancy for a town of this size. The interior was ell-shaped, with shoulder-high wooden partitions topped with latticework separating the tables along each wall.

Kenshin sipped his tea and didn't look at the samurai. He'd been lucky enough to be led to a small table near where the room made its angle, diagonally across from the three men. If he looked up, he could just see them through the latticed partition. It gave him cover and a good spot for listening.

The three men were starting on their meal with a wide array of appetizers on tiny square dishes. They were dressed well, in the style favored by merchants. It struck Kenshin as a little odd; more ostentatious than he would have expected from the samurai he'd encountered during the revolution. Maybe it was a cover identity. They seemed to be enjoying their food.

"Wow, have you tried this octopus? It's really good!" That was Sakurai, obviously the youngest of the three, with a friendly open face and eyes that tended to smile, nicely set off by his thick straight bangs cut in a neat line across his forehead. To his left sat Tomonaga. Kenshin recognized him from Eri's description. He was quite striking, his face craggy and lean with peaked eyebrows. His most distinctive feature, though, was an old scar on his forehead running vertically into his hairline, where it continued as a streak of white contrasting sharply with his otherwise black hair. To Tomonaga's left was the third member of their party. He was older, his short dark hair starting to recede in front. His eyes were slightly hooded and his face was round and ordinary-looking, wearing a disinterested expression. He was not a person you would especially notice on the street. This must be Kobayashi.

Sakurai and Tomonaga were chatting idly about the food, the weather, other inconsequential things, while Kobayashi picked quietly at his plate. Time wore on. This was no good, Kenshin thought; he wasn't learning anything.

A white-and-green-aproned waitress stopped by his table to deliver a steaming bowl of soba. He thanked her and continued listening.

"Have you finished packing?" Kobayashi spoke suddenly into a gap in the conversation, his voice low and casual.

"Yes, of course." Tomonaga.

"Almost. It'll only take me a few minutes to finish up." Sakurai.

Kobayashi nodded. Kenshin was watching them in his peripheral vision as he slurped a few noodles. Wow, it was good! His stomach gurgled in appreciation. He'd forgotten to have lunch. He tucked into it with gusto.

"Good," Kobayashi continued. Kenshin waited for him to say more, but he'd fallen silent. So something was happening tonight, Kenshin thought. If only he could find out what it was.

After a pause, Tomonaga and Sakurai continued their conversation. The topic had drifted into a comparison of the virtues of some pieces of equipment, which Kenshin gradually figured out from context were a part of a horse's bridle. So... boring.... He sighed, twirling his chopsticks in the soba. He felt sleepy already; if this went on he'd surely nod off into his noodles.

More customers had been arriving as twilight fell outside. The light from the windows was dimming, turning blue-gray as the sky darkened. A girl went around table to table, lighting the lanterns. Kenshin watched her, idly. Something was tugging at his attention. A familiar voice.... He started to glance up a second before he placed it: Shinichiro! Kenshin ducked behind his table barely in time as a waitress led Shinichiro past. He heard him greet the samurai, heard the soft double clop as he dropped his shoes to the floor, heard the rustle of clothing as Shinichiro settled himself onto a cushion.

Kenshin sat up cautiously and peeked through the latticework. Shinichiro was at the samurai's table, facing the other direction. He relaxed a little. That had been close.

Shinichiro was talking. "I got the information," he said. "It sets out tomorrow morning, at dawn. There'll be two guards on horseback. And the driver, of course, but he shouldn't be a problem."

"Fine," Kobayashi replied. "There's a place five miles up the road where we'll set up camp. The road makes two bends there to go around a bluff. On the east side there's a hidden clearing, fifty yards or so back from the road. Do you know the spot?"

"I know the bluff where the road bends. I'll find the clearing."

"Good. Be there by midnight."

There was a pause, as the samurai turned back to their food.

"Kobayashi," Shinichiro began again. "Afterwards...?"

"We ride south, direct to Satsuma. This job should get us enough for now. After we deliver, well, then we can see what else needs doing." He paused, sipped some tea. "Be sure to catch one of the guards' horses for yourself."

Shinichiro was quiet for a moment. "I'll catch them both. For myself and my wife." There was a pause, then Shinichiro continued defensively. "She's samurai too; she won't slow us down."

"Hm. Suit yourself."

"I'll be ready," Shinichiro replied. "See you tonight." Then he got up to leave.

Kenshin ducked behind his table again as Shinichiro walked past, thinking fast. So. Something was leaving town at dawn; a cart of some kind, obviously, since it had a driver, carrying something valuable enough that it needed two guards. Up the east road, since the coast road was level and didn't have any bluffs. They were going to ambush it. And Shinichiro was in it up to his neck.

Well then, it was simple. He'd just have to change Shinichiro's mind and prevent the ambush, and then things would be fine.

Kenshin got up and paid his bill (so expensive! He could scrape by for a week on that much!) and left.