Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. Watsuki-sama does. I'm only borrowing his characters for a while.
Chapter 2 – The passing of years
1863, ten years later
For a few months, Kyoto had been the set of strange events: a lot of samurais had started to invade the city and then, men wearing blue haoris had started showing up. There were very few of them in the beginning, but soon, their number increased.
The citizens didn't know what to think exactly. Samurais were not an unusual sight and they had grown used to living with them, but the bloody events of the last few years showed that something unusual was going on. Something was about to happen here, within this city's limits.
That Chosu didn't agree with the Shogun's decision concerning treaties with the outside world was one thing. That all these samurais were coming here to do their war was another thing. Yet, citizen didn't protest. They knew better than to upset samurais, but they were on their guards.
The only district that didn't pay attention to what was going on was Gion. Still living in a surreal world, these people were only happy: more samurais within the city meant more potential clients. Not a bad thing at all... Men of one side or of the other were welcomed. As long as they had money.
"Tokio isn't bringing as much income to the house as she should..."
"She is still young. Seventeen... Give her time."
"At fifteen, Yumi is already achieving better. I don't have that much time, you should know it..."
Masako looked at her lifetime business partner with a knowing look. In ten years, they hadn't changed much. At most their character traits had sharpened, along with their physical traits, but they fundamentally remained the same.
The angular Sei, more angular than ever, let out a small cough, showing signs of disease. They were both worn out and had live long enough, it was true, and they didn't had much time before them to arrange the succession.
"Just leave things the way they are. Tokio is the atatori. She is intelligent. What is the problem with that?" Sei managed to ask, between coughs.
"She is too intelligent, that's the problem. Instead of lightly chatting with men like she should, she keeps quiet, not wanting to give in what she calls brainless games. Of course, this gives her an aura of mystery. But a boring aura of mystery. "
"She has a pretty face."
"A pretty face doesn't retain men's attention long. I've invested a lot on that girl, without any results: she isn't particularly gifted for the shamisen, neither for the tsuzumi, nor for the naga-uta, nor for the shinnai and well... neither for any form of dance. I should have got rid of her long ago..."
Masako had taken on a bitter tone of voice. She had long hoped that Tokio's career would be a success, bringing a new glory to the okiya. They missed the frenzy of the old days, when there was numerous geishas around. Back then, their agendas were so full that they constantly had to refuse engagements. Things had calmed down, but the hope of seeing things picking up again was very strong and relied on Tokio's young shoulders.
Masako had presented her new protégé to the best teachers of all to be sure that she wouldn't miss this chance. But... As they had realised long ago, Tokio never proved to be the promising star that they had wished for. Instead, it would take years before she would be able to pay her debt to the okiya. She would certainly not be free before she was 25 or 30 years old. That was for sure.
For years, Masako had also been aware that Yumi had more potential. A lot more to be precise. And for years, Yumi had made her best to prove herself, to show that she would be their saviour, a thing that had amused Tokio for a very short while, but that had come to bug her very much.
"Yumi should be the atatori, she is more gifted," Masako went on as the only answer she got from Sei was coughs.
"Yes, Yumi is very gifted, but could she really wisely run an okiya? In the long run, Tokio will prove to be a better manager than Yumi. Dancing skills don't influence much how you deal with business."
Masako let out an exasperate sigh. They had gone through this many times already in the last few months. Saying almost the same words, the same sentences and the same arguments. It had almost become a daily game by now. But that didn't change the fact that they needed to find a solution soon. Maybe Tokio could prove to be a good manager, but Masako didn't want to leave her house to an unpopular girl. She didn't want to tarnish her family name.
This scene was repeated everyday, because they couldn't come to an agreement. Beside Tokio and Yumi, their only choice was a ten years old girl, a relative of Sei they had taken in out of pure charity. Aki was her name and pity was the only thing she had. That girl definitely wasn't the right candidate.
Sei smiled faintly to her, always kind in spite of their numerous arguments. They would find a solution. They still had time.
However, fate decided otherwise, as this was one of Sei last nights on earth. Soon after that, her coughing got worse, and a few weeks later, the gentle lady passed away in the silence of the night, unnoticed by her peers.
Once life slowly began to make its way back into the okiya, everyone realised that Sei had played a more important role that they had first thought in their lives. Masako now ruled the place alone and suddenly the house had lost its balance. It had lost its humanity, leaving only the cold, calculating ways of doing things. For a while, it seemed that everything would be fine anyway, but after a few weeks of this regime it was now clear that it would never be the case.
There was something rotten in that okiya, something which could have obscured even the purest heart. Everyone's mind was starting to play bad tricks. Examples of that could be found in every aspect, in every little detail of their lives. Even important decisions reflected that new reality. Tokio was the first one to go to the chopping block: seeing that the number of zashikis to which Tokio was invited was still decreasing, Yumi finally got the atatori title.
Every form of friendship that could once have existed between the two girls was now gone. Jealously filled their hearts and hatred had already started to make its way in. It was showing here and there in their behaviour. The miserable ten year old girl who shared their life at the okiya could testify of that. It was so easy to mock her. It was apparently so much fun... That was about the only thing Tokio and Yumi agreed on.
The Ishinshishi were more organised than they were before. Slowly, their rebellion was taking form. The summer of 1863, was the set of many incidents: blood was spilled almost every night. The Ishinshishi had hired a hitokiri. Although they tried to hide his identity, the fact didn't go unnoticed.
But the Ishinshishi were not the only ones getting organised. Isami Kondo had assembled his troop and was secretly plotting to get rid of the Shinsengumi's co-founder and his allies. With men like Okita, Nagaruka, Saito and Hijikata by his side, Kondo was sure to succeed in his mission. Soon, the Shinsengumi's organisation would take its final shape.
In a few weeks from now, the table would finally be set.
It was late afternoon and Gion was slowly entering its daily frenzy. Everywhere geishas were putting on their make-up, adding the last touch to their mysterious appearance. In every okiya, everything went on smoothly, the routine having been repeated many times, and they all had one goal: achieve perfection. In this competitive district where more than a hundred geishas worked, you needed not less than that to make some profits.
Okiya owners viewed their geishas as long-term investments. Formation was expensive, but it was a requirement to enter this world, but it didn't always give the anticipated results.
"You are not getting ready... Don't tell me you weren't invited to any zashiki tonight... Again...?" asked Yumi, behind Tokio's back.
Tokio turned around and looked with a bored expression at the girl standing in front of her. Some might have found Yumi's provocative beauty breath-taking, but Tokio knew that the other girl was not at all as lovely as her look hinted.
She had noted the mockery in Yumi's tone of voice and knew that her rival wanted to play. Normally she would have entered the little word fight at once, but this time, she didn't have the heart for this sort of thing. She was under the impression that something important was about to happen, and the superficiality of Yumi's words only annoyed her.
"I'd rather stay here than assist to too many zashiki, like you, and not give enough for the money you get. At least, when I'm invited somewhere, I have the decency not to leave after only ten minutes." came Tokio's reply.
"Aren't we a little jealous?"
"You are going to blow up your reputation, Yumi. And it won't take long."
"Definitely jealous. But the difference between you and me is that I'll get the okiya in a few years, while you'll end up with nothing. You won't even have paid all your debt and will have to work for me. Don't worry, I'll give you a fair percentage of your incomes. What do you think of ten percent?"
"I say go to your zashiki. Masako is still far from being dead." Said Tokio before mentally adding 'and if you blow your reputation before she is, then I'll get the house back.'
"Don't give me that wicked smile, Tokio. You know very well that you won't win over me. I've worked too hard to get where I am now." Yumi replied suavely, yet menacingly.
And it was true. At fifteen years old, Yumi was bringing more money to the okiya that anyone had ever hoped for. In two years she had made more money than Tokio had made in four years. And it wasn't even a close call.
Tokio shrugged indifferently. But as Yumi slowly went away, her heart pinched: she wasn't indifferent at all. That she became the atatori was the last wish her father had expressed. It was what he had wanted for her, for her own good. And now, unless Yumi screwed up, she would never be able to achieve that goal. She would never be what her father had wanted her to be.
"Tokio..." came a child's voice, disrupting her thoughts. "Would you help me practise?"
Tokio looked at the young ten years old. It was true that right now, she had nothing else to do, but of course she wouldn't accept. Venting her frustration on that child had become a habit.
"Aki, go play somewhere else. No one ever helped me practise, I don't see why it wouldn't be the same in your case."
Such a remark could have seemed rude and it is true that it was. But Tokio was not very aware of it. When she was younger, the older geishas had mocked her like that and Tokio was unconsciously mimicking those behaviours she once hated.
Why was that so? Why was she becoming so bitter? Probably because she had been forced to leave her family at a very young age and start working almost like a slave. Also, probably because she had been deprived of the future she had once been promised. And now, nothing lay ahead of her. She was alone and there was nothing to look forward to, there was no future. All she could see was a succession of zashikis, of lessons, of fights with Yumi and beside that, nothing else. Her life was empty: no love, no real friends, no family and no freedom of mind or speech.
But for now, even if Tokio knew these answers very well, she didn't ask herself any questions. She was doing things the only way she knew, the only way she had learned. It was the only way to survive in this strange world.
Deep inside, sometimes, a little voice tried to speak and tried to warn her before she hurt herself and hurt others in the process. There was still hope for her, her heart wasn't totally black. But she didn't listen to that voice. She saw no point in it.
For now, she was only distractedly gazing into the dark, waiting for something to happen. Yes, she was sure of it, something important was about to happen, but she wasn't sure if it would be a good or bad thing.
Tokio had completely forgot her strange intuition when, the next day, she walked to her shamisen lesson. The learning process was never over for a geisha, there was always room for improvement, even after years of practise, and in Tokio's case, there was indeed a lot of room.
Even if she wasn't very gifted, she moderately enjoyed those lessons. She liked the repetitive movements of her fingers on her instrument. They were now almost part of her. In fact, only in those moments could she really be herself and see the world with the eyes of the seven years old she once was. She was far away from the okiya's heavy atmosphere and her open war with Yumi.
She finally came to her teacher's house and entered, as habitually, left her shoes by the door, as habitually, and picked up her instrument, as habitually. But what was not habitual at all was to see a young girl inquiringly staring at her from the other side of the room.
Tokio frowned as her routine was being interrupted, a thing she didn't usually enjoyed. Yes, she did frown, but as she suddenly remembered the new student's story, her heart softened. The sight of the little girl's wide brown eyes brought her back in the past.
"You know," started Tokio "ten years ago, I was also waiting for my first lesson, and I was frightened. Seeing you, I remember that past. In fact, we are very alike: we come from the same village."
"You're not lying, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not." laughed Tokio. "Why would I?"
The child nodded accepting Tokio's answer.
"What's your name? Maybe I know your family." The child asked, eager to find a friendly face in this big city.
"I'm Tokio Tanaka. But it would surprise me very much if you knew my family: it's been ten years since I left the village, with my father."
"Tanaka... You mean that you are the old Tanaka's daughter?" eagerly asked the child, unaware of the effect such a question could have on Tokio.
"What...? Who is the old Tanaka?"
"A man from our village. It is said that his daughter is living in Kyoto, so I thought that it was you..."
"Tell me more..." The older girl urged, her heartbeat rapidly accelerating.
"If you want to..." answered the child, shrugging. "He is just an old man, who now lives in Edo. He brings us news from the big city once in a while, although it's been months since we last saw him."
Tokio blinked, unsure of what she had heard. The name, the village, the daughter living in Kyoto, the fact that she couldn't recall any other family whose name was Tanaka... Old, that was a child's perspective. Her father must be a little over forty by now. Everything fitted too well.
Dizzy, she tried to retrieve her souvenirs, but it had been a very long time ago. In fact, she couldn't remember much her father, and even less her mother. It saddened her to see that she was about to completely forget those she loved and cherished the most. How she wished that they were all still together.
She must have been lost in her thoughts for a very long time, for the young girl's voice came, very distant.
"Tokio ...? Are you alright?"
She sadly smiled and said.
"Yes, I'm alright. I never believed in ghost stories before. But maybe I'll start believing in them..."
"You mean that the old Tanaka is a ghost coming to haunt us? That could explain why mother didn't want me to go near him..."
"Maybe." She simply answered. Right now, the ghost theory really seemed to be the most plausible one.
Later that day, after everything had finally calmed down, after Yumi had left for work, Tokio was sitting in her room. She was gazing in the dark again, not really aware of her surroundings. She was in a real frenzy, nervously playing with her hands that seemed as agitated as white small butterflies. Had her mind played her bad tricks earlier on? Had she really met a young girl? Had she correctly interpreted the child's words?
Yes, things had happened exactly the way that she remembered. She wasn't crazy. But it's true that she had a hard time trying to control her feelings. At first, she had been so happy that she had had difficulties to concentrate on what was going on during her lesson. Her father was alive, and maybe she would see him again. They would be a family again and all of this would be over soon.
But when she had come back to the okiya, another reality had suddenly struck her. If her father was alive, then why had he never came to visit her? Why had he been absent of her life for a little more than ten years now? Why?
He had promised that he would come to see her at least once a month. Back then, she trusted him and she still did. Maybe her father was a poor man, but he was a samurai following a code of honour. He wouldn't have lied.
Maybe the young girl was wrong. What if, after all, there were two men named Tanaka living in that village? What if the child had invented all of this? She couldn't really trust the word of a seven year old child who believed her when she had declared that this was probably a ghost story... That wasn't completely reliable.
If the child simply had a fertile imagination, then there would be a simple explanation behind why her father hadn't come to see her. He was dead. There was no old Tanaka and this was only a fairy tale. End of the story.
But... Believing that her father was still alive was so tempting. She would have a goal in life again... That's why, when she caught the sight of Masako walking in the corridor, Tokio elaborated another theory. Maybe her father hadn't come because, he had been forbidden to do so. Maybe he hadn't come because Masako had decided that it was out of the question. She had been living long enough with the old lady to know that it was the kind of things she did. Waiting after her father's visits would have emotionally troubled her? Then, say goodbye to your family...
She clinched her fists, suddenly enraged. Even if she didn't knew if that was what had really happened, she felt betrayed. Only one thing was certain, someone somewhere had certainly lied to her. Was it the young girl? Masako? Her father? Right now, she didn't know.
If Sei were still alive, she would go find her and seek for answers. But Sei was dead and there were no more friendly faces in this house. She couldn't share her distress with them. They would only laugh and mock her once more. Yumi would be too happy to see her like that. She was supposedly the more intelligent of the two, but right now, her brain totally refused to cooperate.
A few sounds coming from a remote part of the okiya disrupt Tokio's thoughts. Yumi was coming back home. How long as she been in here, in the dark? Four, five hours at least... And what had she come up with? That her father was maybe alive and that she couldn't believe that the people she trusted had so boldly lied to her. Aside of that, there was nothing else.
She thought about the case for still a few hours, trying to figure out the truth, to determine who was guilty and who was not. Many, many times she went through everything she knew, carefully pondering each fact, maybe hoping that somewhere in the process, reality would change. But reality never changes.
Finally, at the first light of dawn, she fell asleep, out of exhaustion.
At the other end of the city, a man called Akira Kyosato got killed one night. It was an incident that almost went unnoticed, as the man wasn't an important figure in the war. It was an incident that almost went unnoticed, being only the normal course of things in a war like this one. It apparently was just an incident among others.
But, to the eyes of a close observer, the murder was all but insignificant. I was one of the things that would have deep repercussions in the conflict.
Life is often like that: it's the little details that change the course of history. The Ishinshishi's hitokiri was killing less eagerly than before. A woman had entered his life. Soon, he would quit his job. But not now. Not before the first showdown.
Everyone was waiting for it.
During the next few days, Tokio tried to ignore her feelings. She tried to live her life as she had always lived it until now, but deep inside, she knew that she would have to decide one day. She would have to do something about all of this. Things had changed and she had to acknowledge it.
Finally, after a whole week of zashikis, she sat down and reflected once more on the whole situation. If she could follow her heart, she would rush back to her hometown and ask questions around to know if her father was alive or not. If he were, she would then try to find clues about where he might now live in Edo.
But that wasn't realistic. She couldn't do that. She owed money to Masako and she couldn't leave like that. Wherever she went, Masako would always find her back and then, her life would be even more miserable than what it was now... Besides, she had way too much honour to run away like a thief.
She had to stay here. She was stuck in this okiya for another ten years at least if her career didn't pick up a little bit.
But that didn't exclude the possibility of calmly searching for her father, from here. That was the best option. It was wise. It would take more time, but she hadn't seen her father in ten years, she should be able to wait a few more months. But her heart flinched once more. If he was alive, she wanted to be with him, now...
And that is how, during the next few months, she unsuccessfully tried to find her father, writing letters when no one was looking at what she was doing. She also tried to work harder as a geisha, in order to repay her debt sooner than planned. Like that, she wouldn't have to wait until her thirtieth birthday before she would be able to go live with him.
In fact, she wasn't completely unsuccessful. She did receive the confirmation that her father was alive somewhere. But where? That was the real question. He wasn't living in his house in Edo anymore and he hadn't left his new address. He had suddenly vanished one year ago.
That was disturbing, but Tokio didn't lost hope right away. She sent more letters, but with each new negative answer, she felt more and more discouraged. Her father was nowhere to be found.
The pace at which she sent letters slowly decreased. It wouldn't work. She had to go to Edo in person: So, she started working even harder, to be free faster.
And that's how, slowly, she came to despise Gion and its inhabitants. She had once moderately loved them, but now, it was different... She felt like a prisoner within this district limit. A good life might be waiting for her elsewhere, but she couldn't even freely dream about it. She was losing her time and the best years of her life here. She had already lost a great deal.
Without even realising it, she engaged herself in a battle against the district, against the okiya and against Yumi. She wanted to prove them that she wasn't as incompetent as they had thought she was. She wanted to prove them that she could pay her debt back sooner than they all thought she could. She just wanted to be free once and for all.
All in all, Tokio had become even unhappier than when she thought that her father was death. She was lost in dark thoughts, she had lost part of her sanity, she had lost contact with reality. She was only living for the hope that maybe she'd see her father again.
She was looking forward to that happy reunion, but for now, her heart was filled with hatred.
The Shinsengumi was slowly gaining a notoriety that would culminate with the Ikedaya's affair. Hajime Saito was one of the names often mentioned in discussions. People said that he was the Miburo probably having the longest fangs.
But Gion paid little attention to those tales. Geishas had other more urgent preoccupations, other things to think about. That is how, even after the Ikedaya's affair, Tokio wouldn't even be able to say whom the Shinsengumi members really were...
To be continued...
REMINDERS
In RK, Tokio's family name in Takagi and Yumi is an Orian. I deliberately chose to twist the reality. You'll understand why later. But trust me, I have good reasons. (-)
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NOTESGenerally, when entering her geisha's life, a young geisha will change her given name to pick up an "artist name". However there are a few cases when the young geisha will keep her given name. In this fic, I decided that Tokio and Yumi would keep their given name to avoid any confusion. There are already a lot of new names to learn.
SPECIAL THANKS
As always, a very special thanks to Firuze Khanume for her precious comments on this chapter and this time to Eeevee, for the corrections. What would I do without you, guys?
À la prochaine!
Mary-Ann