Welcome to the next chapter of Amber Awakenings! Please hand your tickets to the usher as you come in, and proceed to fill up the front seats first. All reviews should be helpful and encouraging, and all useless flames will be laughed at and mocked at length to the authoress's friends. Thank you, and enjoy your stay!
DISCLAIMER: Rurouni Kenshin is copyrighted to Nobuhiro Watsuki.
NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Pia Bartolini, who gave me a very honest review, which I highly appreciate. I hope this chapter meets with your standards, madam/sir, and I do thank you for your words.
In a tiny restaurant a few miles outside the farthest outskirts of Nagoya, Kaoru was finishing up a meager meal of rice balls and water. Her lunch had already been bargained for with a few yen notes, and her hostess—a sour-faced, grouchy middle-aged woman—was clearly ready to have the newly-made wanderer leave.
Kaoru let the last few drops of cool water in her cup trickle into her mouth before wiping her lips and giving the woman a small smile that was not returned. Heaving the bag back up onto her shoulders, she eyed the long-stretching road in front of her.
It had been over half a week since she had left the Kamiya dojo, and the shock of her new life had not worn off yet. She often found herself almost enjoying being able to choose where she was going and what pace she could take, but the fun was completely ruined by homesickness and the uncomfortable living conditions. She had not yet found a warm place to sleep, preferring to rest under trees and bushes alongside the road. This choice of resting places would have been fine a month earlier, but in the middle of a swiftly-cooling autumn, the nights were often damp and always cold, and she woke up with muscle pains for her trouble. She would soon have to start sleeping inside if she didn't want to catch frostbite in the middle of the night.
Worse, her money was beginning to run low. She hadn't taken more than a hundred yen with her, and though her dinners were always cheap that money wouldn't last. She'd have to take up begging—an idea she detested—or start finding simple jobs to pay for her meals.
She was also finding out how truly unappreciated the vagabond class was. People were inclined to ignore her completely, even when she directly asked them for directions. Often she saw ragged, dirty-looking men giving her bokken and then her considering looks, which she never returned and tried to disregard. She was glad that her identity and gender were hidden underneath her heavy cloak—she didn't want those men to look at her as anything but a potential opponent. For Kenshin to have had to put up with this ostracizing and isolation for so long—no wonder he had accepted her offer of a home. This disregard for wanderers could hurt if you took it personally. Sometimes she was tempted to do the very same thing that Kenshin had at times—to throw herself on some lonely farmer's tender mercies, or to even start back to her comfortable old dojo, to offer to serve as maid in exchange for a room. If it were not for the nightmares she had of Hiroji and the thought of the sadness in Kenshin's eyes if she came back and could not make him happy, she might have turned around and sprinted all the way back to Tokyo. This "adventure" was not worth the pain of public disgrace.
She had chosen her path the first night out. Upon leaving the Kamiya dojo, she had walked the whole night and morning, collapsing in a wildflower field around noon and sleeping until the following morning. Her walk had been purposeful, but her mind had been almost completely numb—she hadn't even come to grips with her choice until waking up at dawn and finding herself surrounded by daisies and autumn leaves instead of her comfortable room. She had decided that the best and longest route would be to travel the main roads through the major cities until she reached Kyoto. She was more likely to find food and lodging along the main roads, and bandits and other unsavory characters would be less inclined to pass on routes where policemen had regular patrols. With this decision in mind, she had consulted the nearest farmer and turned her feet towards Nagoya. She would go from Tokyo to Nagoya, Nagoya to Nara, Nara to Osaka, and Osaka to Kyoto. After that…
After that, she did not know what she would do. Going back to Tokyo at all now seemed tempting and…impossible. But going on, perhaps to another island or another country, seemed just as impossible and nearly as unpleasant.
Get to Kyoto. Kaoru advised herself firmly. You can figure out what you're going to do from there.
She hefted her bag higher on her shoulders, lifted her chin, turned towards the South, and continued along the path.
"…take one down, pass it around, thirty-three bottles of sake on the wall!"
"Damn it, Yahiko, that song was annoying sixty-six bottles of sake ago!" Sanosuke cuffed the spiky-haired boy upside the head.
"Sano! That hurt!"
"Serves you right. You should learn to talk less, brat."
"What, I should stuff my mouth with food instead like you do?"
Sanosuke responded to this by once again knocking the small boy upside the head. Yahiko growled and crouched low on the ground, preparing to launch himself at Sano's head and engage in a customary brawl. Sanosuke grinned mockingly and stuffed his hands low into his pockets.
"The both of you be quiet." Kenshin ordered calmly, raising an eyebrow at his two companions.
The brewing fight immediately subsided into silence and a nervous glance or two. Three days had passed since they had set out to find Kaoru, but Sanosuke and Yahiko were still unsure and wary about their traveling companion. It was still Kenshin—same politeness, same quiet laugh, same intentness. But the gold in his eyes had not retreated into lavender, and every once in a while there was a hint of ferocity beneath the Rurouni's calm exterior that reminded all present that this tiny, feminine man had once been the most dangerous hitokiri of the Revolution. This Kenshin did not "Oro" and was rarely endearing or sweet. He was slightly colder and just a bit more intelligent than the Kenshin that Sanosuke and Yahiko were used to. And they were treating him very, very carefully.
Kenshin didn't seem to notice the awkward silence he had caused. Instead, he was peering intently about their surroundings. The remaining members of the Kenshingumi were still in downtown Tokyo, examining the outskirts.
"See anything?" Yahiko ventured after a long moment.
Kenshin' shoulders tensed, then slumped. "No. There's no sign of her here." He touched a hand to his forehead, fingers rubbing absently at his temples. "She left no trail to follow at all, and even if she did, it'd be cold now. Rain and two days of market will wipe out anyone's footprints. I thought she might leave us a clear trail, wanting us to follow her, but…"
"So…now what?" Yahiko asked hesitantly after another pause.
Kenshin's hand dropped. "We talk to people. Make inquiries, find out who else was awake at that time of night. Offer a reward for information, perhaps—that'll draw some people for sure."
"You're sure she went this way?" Sanosuke inquired.
"Yes, I'm sure. She'd take a back way out of the city, and a quick one at that. She'd want to get to a main road, where travelers are many and she could move unrecognized—anonymity and a quick getaway are what she wanted most. And this is the closest path to our dojo that leads to a main pathway—an obviously good choice for her."
Yahiko felt his jaw drop slightly at this brief, uncharacteristic speech. He didn't realize Kenshin was so observant of Kaoru's mannerisms before.
"Himura! Himura-san!"
Kenshin turned to see a young police officer running down the alleyway towards them. He stopped short at their group, panting slightly, his breath puffing out in the cool autumn air. "Himura-san, sir, the chief says to tell you that we haven't found any leads on Kamiya-san in the downtown areas, but that Lieutenant Fujita is questioning some possible witnesses and wants you to be there to see if anyone says anything interesting."
"Where is Fujita-san?"
"Near a food place called the Akabeko—"
Kenshin nodded his thanks, and then without another word, he was moving through the streets, dodging through shoppers and residents of the town at a pace that almost could have been a sprint. Sanosuke quickly grabbed Yahiko by the scruff of his gi, and the two of them raced after their friend.
Saito raised one eyebrow as Kenshin suddenly popped up beside him seemingly out of nowhere and raised the other when Sanosuke came running up a few moments later and dropped Yahiko in a dusty heap on the ground, but he did not comment. Instead he jerked his head back towards an older lady squinting up at them from the steps of the Akabeko. "We think we might have found someone who saw Kamiya-san leaving that night."
Kenshin said nothing, but Sanosuke watched as his friend tensed at Saito's last words. "Have you talked with her?"
"Only briefly. Thought you'd like to hear this."
"I appreciate that. Please go ahead."
Saito turned his back to the small ex-hitokiri and fixed the elderly woman with a glare worthy of the Shinsengumi. The crone squeaked in fright and pressed herself back against the steps.
"Your name!" Saito barked.
"D-Daishi N-N-Nao." The hag stammered.
"Where were you last Saturday night and early Sunday morning?"
"I-In an a-alleyway sleep-p-ping."
"Where?"
The woman gestured vaguely in the direction from which Kenshin, Sanosuke, and Yahiko had come.
"Why were you in that alleyway?"
The woman muttered something disconsolately to herself.
"Speak up!"
"N-nowhere else t-t-to go!" She bit her lip and twisted the bottom hem of her garment in her hands, clearly frightened by this severe policeman.
"You claim to have seen the missing person pass, correct?"
"I-I don't know. I-I s-saw someone p-pass—"
"You claim you were sleeping? How could you see anyone if you were sleeping?" The old woman only wailed in reply and buried her head in her gnarled hands, unable to take any more of the lieutenant's questioning.
At this point, Kenshin let out a quiet cough. Saito turned, his eyebrow already raised.
"What is it, Battousai?" The woman's sobs seemed to keep her from hearing the policeman's inquiry, fortunately for all present. Saito's expression vaguely resembled a wolf whose territory was being challenged, and he was giving his much-smaller rival a very hostile glare.
Kenshin merely looked serenely up at him. In the morning sunlight, the gold in his eyes seemed to catch fire. "I would just like to ask the witness a question or two myself, Fujita-san. If that's all right with you, of course."
Saito stared at him for a moment, long eyes narrowing dangerously. Then with an impatient nod, he stepped aside.
The most famous manslayer of the revolution carefully knelt down in front of the old woman. He carefully reached a hand forward to tap her as respectively as he could on the shoulder. "Excuse me? Daishi-dono?"
Sanosuke blinked. Daishi-dono?
The hag seemed startled as well. She pried her face away from her hands and stared at Kenshin with wet gray eyes, her wizened face twisted with astonishment.
Kenshin smiled reassuringly at her. "Daishi-dono, I would like to ask you a question or two, please. I would very much appreciate it if you would respond. If you really did see the woman we're looking for, you could do us a great service."
The old woman cast a fearful glance at Saito, who was giving Kenshin a rather deadpan look. But she turned her eyes away from the tall police officer and seemed to be making a valiant attempt to ignore him. "Wh-what do you w-want to know?" She asked Kenshin quaveringly.
"Did you see anyone that night you spent in the alleyway?"
"H-hai, I did."
"When?"
"V-very late. I think p-probably a little p-past midnight. I had come awake b-because the r-rain had gotten heavier and the d-droplets were banging on m-my cover."
"Ah, I see." Sanosuke could sense a hint of relief coming from the ex-assassin. That was the right time frame they were looking for, and the right place. "And who did you see, may I ask?" He smiled encouragingly as the woman gulped and gnawed her lip nervously. Saito snorted from his place on the sidelines.
"W-well, I was m-messing with my b-blankets when I h-heard someone walking by. I l-looked up to see someone w-walking real fast by my s-spot. Looked like a v-vagabond, almost."
"What did she look like?"
"C-couldn't see very well. I'm n-not even sure it w-was a woman. They w-were dressed in d-dark clothes with a wide-brimmed h-hat pulled low over their face. I think m-maybe a bokken or a sh-shinai was at their s-side. Some kind of n-non killing sword, anyway."
"Were they any other characteristics? Could you see facial features at all?"
The old woman shrugged helplessly. "I'm s-sorry, but their face r-really was covered c-completely. They m-might have been anywhere f-from fifteen to forty-f-f-five in age. S-short stature, s-slender frame…"
"Any gender definition at all?"
"N-no, the clothes were t-too baggy. I think th-they had black hair—long p-ponytail at least. Or m-maybe it was brown hair, n-now I think on it. D-dark, at least. They s-seemed to want t-to avoid being s-seen."
All of her audience slumped, except for Saito, who wouldn't slump if his life depended on it. The description was vague and could apply to any number of travelers going through town. Even that late at night, there were always a few unknown faces traveling through Tokyo who didn't want to be seen by daylight—this person could have been anyone. Yahiko let out a gusty sigh as Sanosuke frowned disappointedly. Kenshin's face was blank as he slowly stood and looked down at the old woman. "I thank you for your help, Daishi-dono." He said quietly, giving her a low bow before turning away, his eyes hidden beneath long folds of red hair.
The crone barely seemed to acknowledge his thanks, or release her interview was over. She stayed where she was, looking pensively at the ground. It almost seemed like there was something pressing at her mind, trying to get her to remember. Her mouth slowly opened as Kenshin moved away. "You know…it's f-funny…there w-was one thing that m-made me think it w-was a woman. What w-was it now…"
The wanderer froze in his steps, glancing back over his shoulder.
"F-funny thing, now…what was it—oh, yes." The hag's face brightened a bit. "Th-there was a s-scent on the air, j-just after they passed. A nice s-smell, you know, like p-perfume or oils. B-but the thing was, I d-didn't think that they were a p-prostitute or nothing, t-trying to sell themselves. I j-just thought it was n-natural. The p-person was just m-made to s-smell like that. Wh-what was the smell, now…f-flowers or something, v-very sweet…"
Kenshin's voice was carefully crafted into softness as he spoke. "Jasmine?"
A small smile shifted the woman's wrinkled face. "Yes, th-that's it." She murmured, looking up at the red-haired wanderer. "Jasmine. Jasmine."