A/N: Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey! Hey there peeps! How are you all doing my lovelies? How's life been?
I'm back...! And finally have a clear mind to execute phase three of this story. People. I finally see it ending, I'm so happy...! Oh, I don't mean it's ending now, not by a longshot; It'll take a while, but I can finally see the path to it clearly. The ending itself I always knew how it was going to be, though.
Anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you like it and the little guest appearance, too. Love you; please enjoy!
Historical facts:
1. Hijikata Toshijou in the company of Saitou Hajime (some sources cite Itou, too) requested their headquarters be moved from Mibu to the temple of Nishi Hongan-ji temple, so they could easier patrol around Gion.
2. The Mimawarigumi was made up by Hatamoto and samurai, tasked with protecting the Imperial Palace and around the Nijo castle (aka the rich and important) only. Their commanders were Maita Hirotaka and Matsudaira Yasutada. Notable commander, Sasaki Tadasaburo.
3. Saigo Ryusuke was the younger brother of Saigo Takamori, a man mostly famous for the Satsuma Rebellion. (No further info on purpose, to avoid spoilers but if you'd like, look him up)
Timeline: late January- February 1865.
A fine lady...
...and famous swordsmen.
She never heard it; she only knew because an otherworldly chill ran through her spine, making her shiver. It shook her whole, putting her on edge; every hair on her body stood at attention. Before she could so much as move, she heard something...several somethings, actually, hitting the floor. That's how she was certain, in her heart, he was coming for her. Her mind needed to verify it, too though thus her body failed to move from her spot, where she was sitting in seiza on the floor.
She struggled to see all around her or outside; they were trying to remain undetected and unseen, especially her, so there was no source of light to help her distinguish anything. She could only imagine what was happening right behind her door; she could only barely make out the room she herself was thrust in three hours ago: a plain, bare room, with nothing but tatami mats and a carpet in the middle. That was were they sat her and left, all four men who accompanied her there. Naturally, she heard much more than that galloping around the carriage as she was carried to this secret place, to the foot of a hill or mountain or wherever she was, but she didn't see them for some reason. It didn't matter. She knew they were there, all twenty – give or take – men who were assigned her protection, just as she knew none of them were Shinsengumi.
And right this moment, she also knew all twenty had fallen, dead or dying, by a certain swordsman's efforts.
A figure appeared behind the rice door, footfalls totally silent. She held her breath.
One hand behind the figure, probably holding his katana, and the other reached for the door; she sat up properly, hands tying delicately in her lap. Then, the door drew open tortuously slow, revealing the newcomer centimetre by centimetre. The face of a young man appeared, one knee bent; his hair were a shocking red up in a high ponytail, distinguishable even in nothing but the moonlight; his eyes shone something dangerous, focusing on her in a split second. There was blood on his clothes, yet none on his face. There was also a blade, shining behind him, coated with his opponents' precious liquid.
Tokio exhaled as discreetly as she could and, if possible, put her back even straighter.
But then something she had not expected happened: the young man was surprised at her, or, more accurately, that it was her that was behind the coveted door. If it wasn't for him lowering his shoulders a significant margin as he stood, and bringing his sword low on his side, she wouldn't have guessed. But he did, eyes scanning her from top to bottom, thinking of what to do with her. And then, he opened his mouth and said the very last thing she expected to hear.
"Where is your lover?"
Try as she might to remain unfazed, dignified and serious in the face of her executioner, she faltered. "Pardon?" was all she asked in return, voice incredulous but, surprisingly, graceful.
The red-haired Hitokiri seemed to blush then; after looking away for another moment, he tried to sound strict and repeated "where is your lover, lady? The real doctor, not the one I killed four weeks ago..."
Realisation hit her the moment he spoke the words "real doctor".
Takahiro-sensei found his tragic end four weeks ago, at the hands of the Hitokiri Battousai; his funeral was held not one, not three, but five days after the murder, for no other reason his family needed to travel to the capital from long ways away. Even so, the one leading the procession, not in terms of position but spirit, was none other than a grief-stricken Tokio, who could not stop crying. She hadn't stopped, for all five days in fact, as well as another five after. That man taught her everything he knew; that man guided and helped her through so many confusing and exhausting procedures; explained the human body to her and its needs, its reactions. He was a true teacher and one of the best people she knew. She loved him dearly. And for him to be taken away from her so violently, so soon, so unfairly, she couldn't handle it.
Every time she thought about it, she cried and she couldn't stop thinking about it. Thankfully, Hajime had been very understanding with her; that first night, when they'd just returned from the trip, he had snuck into her room and held her all night long, as she cried with abandon on his shoulder. He never left, even as she fell asleep from the exhaustion; even as she broke into pieces and couldn't think straight. He simply stroke her hair or held her close until she had her fill. Then, just at the break of dawn, he kissed her forehead, her bitten lips and her too-red nose and promised he'd keep her safe no matter what.
The day of the funeral, Matsudaira-sama had kindly positioned him to her side, under the excuse of protection, but Toshihime later entrusted her sister and Tokio that he did it for his favourite's ward comfort and peace of mind. He could see, she said, Hajime relaxed her and wished for nothing but her happiness in this trying time. Tokio felt her fondness for the man only grow and her heart ache all the more. She was so lucky, blessed and sad at the same time. She wished all people managed to make such connections with others that just their absence was such an agonising prospect, how much more if they were ripped away from them.
Of course, seeing the public had no idea of the true connection between the latest victim and Tokio, who was crying harder, louder and more gut-wrenching than when her promised husband was found dead, they all naturally assumed...they were lovers. Or, at least, Tokio was in love with the older man. And in no time, the rumour of the Flower of Aizu being in love with the doctor, made the rounds in the capital.
Matsudaira had not cared to set it straight too much, for he feared the truth coming out and then the patriots would definitely and openly target Tokio. Now, with the excuse she was saddened for a loved one's passing none would suspect a thing. Even Saitou encouraged the rumour, by pretending to be unaware of what anyone was talking about, when asked. After all, if anyone knew, the men under his tutelage would say, it would be him; him who spent half his time there, in their company.
Teruhime found another, masterful excuse that became popular, too, but it was too late to erase the other rumour: Tokio was sickly, she'd claimed, and the doctor had been caring for her for the past five years; they had grown very close because of that and the fact the doctor had saved her life as a child and an adult too many times. Some even used this excuse to strengthen the part of the rumour that claimed Tokio was hopelessly in love with him, claiming it was only natural for a girl like her to fall for the man who saved her life so many times.
No matter what, though, everyone seemed to believe she was not in any way related to the medicine herself and that was a victory. A victory that was completely undone one evening two weeks later, when a bleeding, coughing Okita was brought through their gates. He was in a state. She couldn't help but pull up her sleeves and get to work, despite everyone's protests that if she did, she would put herself in danger. Even Okita opposed it, but she was unyielding.
"Why did you even bring him to me then?" she had countered.
"They brought me here out of habit," Okita admitted "and I didn't realise in time."
"Well, now you're here; I'm making you better whether you like it or not."
Matsudaira had all but grabbed and shook her when he found out, half a day later; Saitou, on the other hand, didn't find the strength to scold or thank her. He didn't want his friend to die, but he didn't want her secret found either. So he simply stared, apathetic. She took that as a good sign.
But the Patriots took it in a whole different light. Before the week was over, they had drawn their conclusions – to which helped a certain former servant of the Matsudaira compound, who was nowhere to be found in her cell – and information reached Matsudaira's ears about how this attack on Okita was a well-executed plan, to make sure they killed the right doctor this once. And, with his swift recovery at the end of said week, they realised, once more, they were wrong. It wasn't Takahiro who was the one who worked the miracles, but someone close to him...someone, who, by all means, would be very close; someone who maybe cried five or six days straight after finding out about his death. Or, someone so close to the doctor that the flower of Aizu, saved by him so many times, couldn't help but falling in love with him.
No matter what it was, they deemed Tokio a key part in this. Word spread quick and before long, Matsudaira was gathering a sizable force to keep her safe. At first he barricaded her in his estate, but after three incidents – none of which contained the Battousai – and five assassins who were all actually caught, the lord deemed his house to be too high profile as well as large—people could infiltrate easier than he originally thought, despite being apprehended or killed in the end. Besides, for all he knew, they could use this as a distraction to end his own life, or his wives'. No more death, he had promised, and decided to send her away to a secret location that would change every three days.
And that brought them to week number four, almost at an end, when the Shinsengumi would finally return from Osaka. They were sent there a week ago, when Hijikata, in Saitou's presence and the company of the two newcomers, asked from the officials to allow them to transfer their headquarters from outside, inside the city, at the temple Nishi Hongan-Ji. To prove their mettle once more, they were asked to help in Osaka, where the shogun was going to be, act as his guard.
When they were done reporting to Matsudaira, and Hijikata was already on his way out, Saitou inquired after Tokio.
"How is she doing?"
"She has more problems than her grief to worry about," the Aizu-han replied, sighing then and looked Saitou in the eye. "She's being openly targeted by the Patriots."
"Who's in charge of her protection?" he asked immediately, curt and demanding. His tone and posture drew Hijikata's attention to the subject and suddenly, all five individuals in the room had turned to the conversation.
The Aizu-han knew what was about to follow so he took a deep breath. Once he exhaled, he looked at Saitou again. "The Mimawarigumi," the older man confessed.
Every single person in the room had a reaction close to indignation and betrayal. "My lord, with all due respect," Hijikata began "I know Tokio-san is from Aizu and none other than your esteemed family member, Matsudaira Yasutada is leading the squad, but this is a matter we, the Shinsengumi have been taking care of for the longest of times."
"Her protection should have been given to us," Saitou pressed, unbothered by the fact he was being a little too informal with him and had witnesses to it.
"He insisted," Matsudaira tried to excuse himself, "Hirotaka, too. Besides, most of these people are Aizu based hatamoto and all of them wanted to protect the woman known in Kyoto as the Flower of Aizu...not to mention you were in Osaka."
"You could have talked to Kondou about this," Saitou countered, almost angry "he could have assigned Harada and Nagakura on this as well as their squads. And when we returned, like we just did, take over for them. Okita must be in top condition by now and Sakuma and I are more than adequate for this assignment, not to mention—"
"Gentlemen," Itou intervened then, trying to be pacifying "you must keep in mind Takagi Tokio-sama is the daughter of a rich, high-ranking man; if she was assigned to us, rather than the Mimawarigumi, her father would have just cause to accuse our lord of negligence."
"If her father finds out anyone other than Saitou was put as the head of this endeavour, he'll personally march down here and force us to commit seppuku," Hijikata immediately snapped his inferior officer just to clam his mouth shut.
"He trusts Saitou-san that much?" Sakuma asked out loud, impressed.
"He does," the lord bit through his teeth, "but you must understand your interests aren't the only ones I have to look out for."
"You are correct, my lord," Saitou pulled a 180 change in pace "we are being impertinent." He took a deep bow. "Hijikata-san, I think it's time we left; but I'd like to go meet my friends for a drink before we get back. Nagakura, Harada, Toudou and Okita will be thrilled to hear about our progress. Sakuma should be allowed to come, too, I think." He turned to the lord then. "Are there any nice places you would recommend for six warriors such ourselves?"
The lord seemed at a loss for a moment; but after that initial shock, he pieced it together: him giving in so easily, making a point to mention who's going to be with him, even asking him for a destination...heh, he was smart to veil his question in such a manner, especially in the presence of this Itou person who seemed to agree the best choice was the Mimawarigumi.
"Though no warrior myself, I have heard if one likes to drink unreservedly, away from prying eyes or traitorous mouths, they should head to the foot of Mountain Hei; offers the best coverage and view at the same time...at least for another day or so."
"I see; anything we should watch out for in particular?"
"I know it to be a rather secluded place, almost hidden on the north side, but well worth the ride."
Hijikata couldn't stop shaking his head; to think the lord, of all people, would be the enabler to all of this, unbelievable. Then again, the man wanted his ward alive. He knew they were the best choice for that to happen. He looked outside. There was still plenty of light. If they rode fast and hard, the could make it before too dark. Then, the only trick would be being allowed in by the Mimawarigumi, but he had a suspicion they wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Thank you my lord. Sakuma, let's go. Itou, Hijikata, see you later. If you'll excuse us, my lord."
Without another word, he turned about and left; stricken, Sakuma opened and closed his mouth for a couple of times, like a fish out of water, but once he saw Hijikata urge him, a little impatient, to follow after Saitou, he bowed to everyone deeply and ran after him.
"Saitou-san, wait! You're walking too fast."
"Then meet me at the stables."
"Need I remind you I don't know the place as well as you do?"
"Then don't fall behind." He took a sharp left. "We're going to pick up as many of the men I mentioned as we can and leave for Hei; every second counts."
"Pardon, but why is drink so important right n—?"
The disbelieving glare Saitou shot him, made him jump back. "Are...are we not going for drinks?"
"Are you an idiot?" Sakuma still did not get it; Saitou shook his head. "We're going to do what we should have been doing for the past week." A glance. "I hope your sword's sharper than your mind."
"Hey!"
They exchanged no further words after that, time being of the essence. They had to ride out to their headquarters, at the outskirts of the city, seeing the temple was only now officially given to them, with the completion of their mission, and gather their troops. Then it was a mad dash to the north side of the mountain, and the secret hide-out they put her in. If it was Battousai leading the search-and-destroy mission on the Patriot's side, though, he doubted he wouldn't be able to find it, even without having directions. With renewed vigour and anxiety, he carried out all of his duties in record time, with Sakuma panting behind him, but there nonetheless.
When they burst in the common room, where they were certain at least three of the four would be – and they were right – at that time of day, all Saitou had to do to garner everyone's attention was give the place a sweeping look.
"Get up, we're leaving; Tokio's in danger."
After a moment of suspension, where everyone looked at one another in numb shock, Saitou turned about and left; in a microsecond, every single one of them followed after him. "Someone grab Nagakura, too," Toudou mused out loud "hey, newbie; go to the library and call him. We'll be at the stables."
Before long, all six of them were riding out. And all the while, only one thought plagued Saitou's mind, echoing repeatedly: nice promise you gave her, liar. Now hurry up and reach her and once you do, make sure you don't leave until the danger has passed. And for his peace of mind, she better be unhurt, or else...
"Himura-san," Tokio began, humour evident in her voice, despite her fear "are you looking for my lover or the real doctor?"
"I won't ask you how you know my name," he started, though being internally a little unsettled at the realisation "but I will ask you to stop playing pointless mind-games. The doctor I killed wasn't the one we wanted; and you cried too much for just a patient. Thus, you must be involved with the one I was truly after...the doctor's apprentice. Give him up, Flower of Aizu. No matter how hard you try to hide him, it won't work."
She shook her palms, trying to explain. "You have this all wrong."
"Are you telling me the doctor had no apprentice?"
"Alright, you have most things wrong."
He glared; Tokio tried, really tried to feel as scared as she did right before he entered, but she realised she wasn't. Be it from the Battousai's age, who was hardly an adult, or the way he did not hold his sword against her, she couldn't find it in herself to be frightened. She was, at best, alarmed.
"The doctor had an apprentice and you're hiding him," she bit her lip, wanting to explain but not interrupt "in fear for your lover's life. But if I do this," the Battousai jerked the blood off of his blade and sheathed it; with another move, he tugged the carpet right out of her feet and threw it at the opposite wall! So fast his movements were, she barely registered what happened "his hiding place will be...revealed...eh?"
An almost comical expression of disbelief came over the young man's face.
The grand reveal turned out to be nothing but more tatami mats, making up the floor as expected. There was no secret trap door, or a lever, or anything that would indicate an alternate escape route. He paled.
"C, can you stand?" he asked, trying to look underneath her feet, blush rising on his cheeks, returning colour to his face. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to see under your skirt."
"Of course," she complied, ever graceful, and stood up.
But nothing. There was no escape way, only more floor. He looked up at her startled; she looked down, a little awkward.
"Um, where is the, eh..." he stopped. He sobered and tried to look dangerous. "Where is the doctor's apprentice, Takagi-san?"
Swiftly, her pointer finger extended towards her face; the Battousai faltered. Then she made plenty of circles, all around her face and capped it off by pointing at herself again.
He stared, speechless. "You're the apprentice." She nodded, sagely. "I was sent here to kill...you?" She nodded again, this once seriously.
The Battousai froze.
Her eyes widened by his reaction; she spoke his name, but he didn't move. Then she waved her hand in front of him, but nothing, again. She huffed and looked all around her, contemplating her options: there was an escape to the balcony outside, that led to stairs, seeing she was on the second floor, but she felt he would easily catch up with her. She could just try and back away to the door but maybe that would snap him out of it.
Before she made up her mind though, she watched his body tense, as he involuntarily almost took a battle position. Tokio knew what it was: he was ready to draw his sword—she'd seen Okita do it plenty of times. And yet, other than crouching, hand over the hilt of the blade, eyes looking down, he did nothing else. Sighing, she walked to the carpet at the far end of the room, picked it up and lay it down in its place again. She proceeded to sit in seiza on it once more, tying her hands in her lap. Picture-perfect of decency, she set her back straight.
"Himura-san," Tokio demanded his attention, "we don't have all night. Either kill me and go, or just go. You don't know this, naturally, but the Shinsengumi came back from Osaka today." Electricity ran through him at the sound of that. "Undoubtedly, at least three of them will be coming here to check on me and if they aren't here already, they'll be arriving shortly. So, decide what you want to do, Himura-san but for your sake, be quick about it."
His eyes bore into her carefully. "Why should I believe you? You have a tenth of the Mimawarigumi looking out for you; why would the Shinsengumi come to your aid as well?"
"Because they will. It's your choice whether to believe me or not."
He remained looking at her, posed as he was, for a long time. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because, so far, you have spared my life; I am simply returning the favour."
The struggle in his heart was translated as inaction in his body; ready to strike at any moment, but every single moment that passed them by, he chose to do nothing. It was an ethical issue, she was certain; he didn't feel well or excused in killing a woman, for whatever reason. Truly, she wasn't complaining...but she knew if this went on for long, it would end in some sort of tragedy. These things were better decided in a second.
"What are your instincts telling you, Himura-san?" Her words startled him enough to look at her again. "You seem like a person who acts on them; maybe do the same now, too, to whatever end."
"Even if my instincts tell me to kill you?"
Her smile was apologetic. "I truly hope they aren't..."
She knew that was a big gamble, but she made it. High risk, high reward; and when she saw his hand twitch, she nearly had a heart attack! But then he relaxed his stance and stood to his full height, which was less than hers, surprisingly.
"I shan't kill another doctor," he made up his mind then "especially a woman."
Just then noise was heard from outside and both occupants of the room turned to the window. They were in the middle of nowhere, there was no coming and going sounds here; if someone came here, it was specific. Kenshin looked a Tokio in disbelief. "Is it really...?" She shrugged; he felt his blood boil. "I'll go check."
The moment he emerged from the room to the balcony that led to the stairs, he saw six horses nearly one minute away from the safe house, galloping at full speed. His chin fell. He'd be damned, she was right! He could definitely make out none other than Okita Souji, Nagakura Shinpachi, Toudou Heisuke, Harada Sanosuke and Saitou Hajime, in the company of a newcomer, zeroing in on him.
Eyes wide both by the accuracy of her prediction and their instant approach, he ran back inside. His eyes searched for her, spotting her standing now, trying to look outside, too.
"Is it them?"
"Yes," he sounded annoyed "how did you know?" She shrugged again. He shook his head. "Whatever; they are coming. It's many of them, so they'll probably go for a pincer attack; I'll have to fight some in order to leave. The best place to do it would be the next room, where everything is dark and I know I'm the only attacker."
"Why are you explaining your battle plan to me?"
"Because I'm thinking maybe staying here, just to make them scared to use any sort of technique, out of fear of hitting you in the process."
"Don't do that, Himura-san; you'll only make them angrier. Instead," she nodded to the window. "And I would not be taking the stairs."
His appreciative stare was directed at her; then it alternated between her and the exit, for a very long moment. Creaking was heard from the other room, betraying the Shinsengumi's arrival; the Battousai heard them but still didn't move, shoulders squared. But when the door flew open and Okita's sword charged right through the threshold, the Battousai made an impressive run, maneuvering away from the attack successfully and finding himself on the balcony at the same time. Without a second's delay, just as he was about to take the stairs and saw more Shinsengumi men were coming up from there – realising the Flower of Aizu had given him sound advice – he decided: legs like springs, clutching the railing, he pushed off the wood and took a dive directly to to the ground, from the outward side, but not before stabbing downward to bring down the whole staircase!
Just before he hit the ground, he saw a katana heading straight for him; with all the speed and skill he possessed, he managed to avoid being impaled. He brought his legs too close to his chest and used the blade as footing, even if it did cut him in the end, deeply, on the calf. He rolled on the ground to lessen the impact of the fall and put some distance between him and the attacker, but just as he looked up, he found himself facing the edge of the blade of none other than a furious, snarling Saitou Hajime.
Himura swerved to the left, getting his cheek a little cut but worth it, because now, he could easily use his own sword to counter him. It was drawn before he ever stood, stopping Saitou's second attack to his head! Saitou was physically stronger, he realised, but Kenshin was faster; using his feet, he tripped him! The bastard didn't fall though, only lost his footing for a second. Stabbing out, to put some distance between them, Himura rolled away once more.
He tried to leave, but now just the sword, without the man behind it, was thrown at him and he was lucky to see it coming because damn thing was headed straight for his heart! But he caught it with the edge of his eyes and with a swift move, avoided it altogether. The punch to the face though, he didn't.
Now, Himura Kenshin had been punched a number of times, none of them while holding a sword, too, but none seemed so inescapable as this one. Although he saw it coming at the nick of time, it felt like his opponent got faster mid-swing and the knuckles collided with his jaw painfully. It really knocked the wind out of his lungs, it was very powerful. It led to a series of more punches, in fact, one as brutal as the other...but then he remembered he had a sword in his hands, whence his body got used to the pain and the blood tasted less metallic.
He swung twice; first connected with Saitou's hitatare, but not his skin while the second was avoided altogether. He didn't care he drew no blood, though, because its purpose to drive him back was served successful and he was now at least three metres away and Kenshin could—
"AH!"
A branch of a fallen tree was thrown at him all the way from there, right on his chest just as he was about to turn around and leave. It was closer to a goddamn tree trunk than a branch and it brought him down lamely.
"What did they feed you in Osaka!?" he exclaimed almost desperate that nothing seemed to deter his opponent, even without his sword.
The fact the Battousai knew where they were prior to here, took him both by surprise and only furthered his impotent fury; Kenshin saw it happen as his muscles seemed to swell even more, his face a mask of shock and wrath. Just as Kenshin thought prying himself free of the unnaturally large branch and make his escape seemed impossible, another thing happened that made it probable: a voice was heard and his enemy's focus shifted completely:
"Dear Buddha, are you alright?"
Tokio had come out on the balcony, nearly tripping on her own two feet in her effort to stop before falling down the now ruined staircase. Once she found her footing again, she looked down and breathlessly asked about their health.
Deeming his opponent distracted enough, Kenshin untangled himself in one fluid motion and picked up his opponent's sword. Without a moment's pause, he chucked it at Saitou who saw it very last minute and had to bent very low and to the side to avoid it – being tall wasn't always an advantage – and still, not completely. It got him on the sides a little, but nothing crippling; just enough to allow Kenshin to make his escape. He ran full speed to the Shinsengumi's horses and jumped on the first one!
No one dared throw another sword at him, unwilling to risk the horses, and watched him as he kicked Nagakura's stallion into action and rode off. Just a second later, Sakuma Ikujiro was seen and heard crushing through the door, swearing at their enemy and going for his own horse.
"Sakuma, no!"
Toudou finally managed to free himself from Harada's limbs and the wooden beams of the staircase and dived for the newbie, with the help of a frantic Nagakura, who both managed to pin Sakuma down.
"Let go of me! I'll kill him! I'll find and kill him!"
"Calm down."
"Sakuma-san, don't do anything stupid."
Saitou, numbness finally leaving him with a shake of his head, went to him. "He'll abandon the horse soon enough and get lost in the trees. Do you really think you can face him in there, all on your own?"
"THEN COME WITH ME!"
But the look Saitou shot him, froze his blood.
"His capture isn't our mission tonight."
He curtly nodded high, where Tokio stood, watching everything and everyone. Her concern was evident and it made him feel all the more worthless; to think she was the one worrying about them...that's when he stopped and took a deep breath. He let it go, calming himself in the process.
When he opened his eyes again, he bore into Sakuma's. "So what is it going to be?"
"Tokio-sama is a priority..." he finally spoke, head lowered.
"Let's go then."
Okita emerged then, looking a little sick. "Many dead bodies inside; sixteen, with a fast count. We need to get them back. Also, this hide-out is no longer usable. We need to get her somewhere else, fast."
She had now stopped craning her neck, seeing Harada had stood, too and joined the rest, but simply stood there on the ledge, looking dignified and serious; Saitou had looked with the edge of his eyes. He sighed.
"Nagakura, what do you think we should do?"
"I say we break into two parties: Sakuma, Toudou and Harada ride back right now to inform the lord of everything that happened. Saitou, Okita and I stay here to keep Tokio-san safe. We'll stay here until you come get us." Unable to believe what transpired in the previous five minutes, he shook his head.
"And no running after the Battousai," he warned, but it came out as a plea rather than an order.
"Yessir," Sakuma assured.
Seeing the tension started leaving everyone's bodies, they slacked, trying to catch their breaths or wrap their heads around what happened.
"Oh, no one's hurt, right?" Nagakura asked out of the blue then, looking at the two men who were trapped under the rabble of the staircase.
"Nah, we're fine," Toudou waved him away. "We're going. Come on, Sakuma."
Three headed to the horses, before looking back and waving Tokio goodbye; she waved back. The other three, looked up at her, sighed relieved and headed up there, the other way. She immediately went inside to meet them.
Saitou was positively, absolutely shaking for well over five minutes. The moment he saw Kenshin appear on that balcony the first time, he was done; he was gone. He legitimately thought he had killed her. No one escapes him; at least, no civilian. No untrained, physically weak, vulnerable civilian. There was no way he was sent to kill her and he failed. Battousai didn't fail; if he did, he wouldn't be Battousai. He'd be just another ruffian on the street that they'd have captured a long time ago. He'd be long dead or incarcerated. Not there.
For five tortuous, unending minutes, he honestly thought he'd lost her. All he could see was red and him; him hurrying back inside; and he knew the bastard was smart, he knew he'd jump; that's why he positioned himself as such, to get him when he did, to kill him...! But the slippery bastard was out of reach, was always out of reach, he couldn't for the life of him, land the decisive blow. The more he struggled, the more he slipped away. But all he wanted was to grab him, wring his neck with his bare hands...
And then he heard her.
She...she was not dead.
If he was being honest with himself, all fight left him right that moment. Himura Battousai was no longer important; as far as he was concerned, he was no longer there. Sure, it would be very satisfying to capture or kill him, as an added bonus to keeping her safe, but he was secondary; she was the priority. No wonder he nearly missed his own katana thrown at him. Ugh, he'll never forget the moment he saw her out there—it put his entire reality on focus again.
When he came to terms with all of that, seconds after the three of them headed for the safe-house, his pace quickened; with his large strides, he was the first one inside and, upon seeing her appear at the end of the inside stairs, he covered the distance in a breath. Uncaring of decorum, knowing full well both of his witnesses already knew where his affections lay, he grabbed her two steps before she reached him and hugged her tight and close.
A little surprised and mighty relieved, she returned the hug, a chuckle escaping her. When he sagged against her, inhaling her scent, she just pat his back. "I know," her muffled words were heard "I am well."
"How?" Okita asked what they all thought. "And why?" A pause, during which Saitou finally let go of her, but not entirely—his hand was holding onto her waist. "Not that I mind," Okita hurried to supplement "but what the hell? Our blood went cold when we saw him there, Tokio-chan. But, but you are alive—you are unhurt even," he noticed upon closer inspection. "How?"
"Okita is right, we were scared we'd find you in a pool of blood," Nagakura corroborated, but everyone's distaste became evident.
"Don't paint such a vivid picture, Nagakura-san," Okita complained.
"I'm sorry, but I'm right," he turned to Saitou "aren't I?"
"Yes," he admitted, finally letting go so that the others could take a look at her, too. "We were all worried."
"I can imagine," she agreed, nodding "forgive me for not showing myself earlier, but I was a little apprehensive."
"No, that's fine," Saitou reassured her.
"Truly," Nagakura's smile finally returned "your presence proved a little distracting."
Okita looked at Saitou surprised and laughed when he pretended to be too dignified to answer him. "Some more than others, eh?"
"Shut up, both of you."
She chuckled. "I was there, I saw it; I wouldn't forgive myself if I got anyone killed."
"Alright, enough," he stopped the conversation short "if you're all so spry then go clean up upstairs; take the bodies out and lay them properly. I, on the other hand, will stay here with hime-sama and make sure she stays safe."
"Fine," Okita agreed "but not before she tells us what happened."
She shrugged. "He just didn't do it. He had plenty of time; he'd been standing there with his sword at the ready for more than five minutes, after he realised I was his intended target."
"He didn't know?"
She shook her head. "They didn't tell him. He'd thought—" she giggled "he thought the doctor had apprenticed another, a man, and I was just there as a distraction. He even asked," she cleared her throat to mimic the man's voice "where's your lover, to make himself look educated."
She kept explaining and relating the facts, but that line was Saitou's conviction; for the next entire week, he did not live it down. Although the men were gracious enough to say nothing in front of Tokio, they called him nothing other than that when it was just the three of them. It didn't matter though. He got to spend all of his time up there with her, making sure she was safe, while the others cleaned up. Exactly because both of his friends knew of their relationship, he even got to hold her throughout the entire night, an arrangement she was more than happy about.
And just for that night, he put every other thought behind him and concentrated solely on how right it felt to have her in his arms for so long, to depend and lean onto him. He would deal with his bitterness of not being there on time to save her, of his failure, tomorrow, as well as the only reason she was still alive was the Battousai's ethical inhibitions. Tomorrow.
This night was the night of appreciation.
.
.
.
"My lord, you wanted to see me?"
It hadn't been a full week since the Battousai incident, not three days she returned to the estate. After the young man refused to kill her, other assassins were sent after her, one more incompetent than the next. Thus, the Aizu-han decided it was high time she returned home. This type of threat his own men were more than enough to deal with. Sadly, the Shinsengumi's time with her ended, but then again, she was deemed to be at low risk, so that was a good thing.
"Yes, my dear...I've been thinking. And while I'd been thinking, I received a letter from your father." She perked up at that, smile easy on her face. "He's coming here for New Years. What's best, your mother and sisters will be joining him, too."
Her pure joy at the news was written all over her face!
"I'm very excited, too...but I have some unpleasant news for you, as well, my dear."
"Oh?"
"Your father, he...he won't be coming alone. He'll have more company than just your family." She tilted her head in question. "A young man will be in his entourage." Her smile fell; so did her shoulders. Realisation came a little too fast and for Matsudaira, to watch that transition happen, was a little unbearable. "Yes, honey, he's a prospect. If...if your father gets his way, he'll be your last one."
"B, but my lord, I'm being chased—!"
"That's the worst part." he interrupted her, not something he did often. "I concluded that the best solution to our problem will be your wedding announcement." She became white as a sheet. "No future bride has time to bother with anything other than her upcoming wedding, after all."
"But my lord, I..."
She turned her eyes low on the floor; her entire demeanour screamed defeat. Just as she opened her mouth to protest again, she thought better of it and kept quiet. Matsudaira watched her come to terms with it without saying a word, but his heart went out to her.
"I'm really sorry, my dear; I wish it didn't have to be that way, but we must get you married as soon as possible."
"Do we know who he is?"
"No, although your father did mention we probably know him. Ah, what was his name? Give me a moment," he rushed to his desk, searching for the right piece of paper. "Here it is: Saigo Ryusuke."
"It does sound familiar, " Tokio mused out loud, dejected "but I cannot place him. Still," she shook her head "can we not avoid it?"
"I am so very sorry, my child, but we cannot." Her head lowered. "I know he is not the one you'd prefer but we must think of your life first and foremost."
She fought back tears, sniffling pathetically, but his words offered some comfort indeed; knowing he, too did not want to give her away—...wait. Wait a minute. What did he say? "My lord, I do not wish to be married at all." She looked at him. "You know that."
"I knew that, yes..." An eyebrow raised. "But has your opinion not changed on that? I am under the impression it did."
Her heart stopped beating. "Why?"
His eyes regarded her in that way they always did when she'd done something she shouldn't and pretended she'd done nothing. There was a meaning in that raised eyebrow, that probing stare. "Tokio, my dear, I am not blind; nor am I a fool. Are you not, could you help it, hoping for a union with a certain tall swordsman of humble background?"
All colour left her face and she felt feeble; for a long, but at the same time short moment, everything went black. Then she could see again—but she could see everything: her lord's worry, his disapproval of her antics as well as him coming closer to support her.
"Are you well?"
"My lord, what...?"
He scolded her with naught but his stare again. "To think that Motoko was right...just not right about the person; it wasn't Okita you snuck out to meet, but Saitou, wasn't it?"
"My l...ord, I..." She needed to sit down; breathe. "My lord, I didn't...never did I..."
He watched her struggle with words, search for something to support her and eventually sit down, almost hyperventilating. He wanted to comfort her, but at the same time he wanted to know the entire truth, so he let her suffer a little, in hopes it would loosen her tongue.
"Just tell me the truth; all I knew was, you shared a begrudging respect—then, I see you by the lake a month ago." He shook his head; she was about to froth from the mouth. "What changed and how? But, answer me this first: how far has this gone?"
Her shame and righteous indignation snapped her out of it. "Only what you saw, my lord!" Her colour was reaching dangerous hues. "Nothing more has happened between us, I swear. I'd never—he'd never...! He's, he's far too proper, my lord." Her head was lowered. "It isn't his fault, too, my lord, for the most part; tis mine, for the most part."
She furtively glanced up to ascertain the man's state of mind and was surprised – and a little relieved – to find the man shaking his head with a half-smile.
"I can guess; I have met the man. Although he doesn't seem the type to be caught up in such things in general..."
"I was...very insistent."
"Heh, maybe the rumours were true for once, then; they say no one can resist the flower of Aizu, for she is beloved by all, no matter who or what." She was displeased and he smiled. "You are right; that's ridiculous. It simply means he must really love you," the lord spared her "to be willing to besmirch his name, in the unlikely event this was known."
"My lord, please, don't tell anyone!"
"Tell? Who? Your father—Kondou? If your father knew, he'd flail me; and I am almost certain, if Kondou doesn't know, Hijikata does. And if even he couldn't put a stop to it..."
"He couldn't, because my intentions were pure; I don't want to cause him trouble, I only wanted..." Her renewed defeated attitude drove a take through his heart; seeing this woman, this girl, he helped raise so sad and disappointed was too much. "I only want to see him happy and successful."
"My dear Tokio," he said in a sigh "I swear, if I could, I'd give you to him."
The way her head snapped up to him, ready to cry, filled with all the hope, the despair and acknowledgment of this unique cruelty done upon her, compelled him to put his hand on her shoulder.
"I like the man; had he not been disowned, he would have made a fine candidate. If he had somehow amassed fortune, even as he is now, I am certain your father would easily entertain the prospect, too. If I'm being entirely honest, considering some things the shogun promised, if the timing was better, I wouldn't be opposed giving you to him as it is, but..."
But; always that one small, decisive word was her biggest enemy. She felt like crying once more. She resisted though; too much crying this month, enough was enough. "My lord, thank you."
"Sister knows?"
"Teruhime-sama?" He nodded; so did she. "So does Toshihime-sama."
"Of course they do," he almost accused "I must know of everything last."
"My lord, you can understand why we would be a little hesitant to tell you of this."
"Yes; I'm the only one with sound judgment." Properly reprimanded, she looked down again. "What's done is done," he said then, knowing it was time to soothe her "I do not wish for you to be afraid of me. I will allow you to inform Saitou of the wedding plans, so long as you promise me, no more sneaking around; no secret but public displays of affection. It stops here." She nodded. "You are to be married to someone other than him; no more secret rendezvous."
"Yes, my lord."
"Please, Tokio, understand; this is for your own good."
"I know." A sad smile formed on her lips. "That still doesn't mean I have to like it."
His agreement was heavy; but at the very least, he could make their goodbye comfortable. "I'll ask Saitou to come here; you can tell him of what's going to happen. I'll make sure no one bothers you; ten minutes are enough, I think."
"They are, my lord." Just as he was about to go, she effectively stopped him, clutching his hand. "Thank you."
He bent low and kissed the top of her head. "And I am sorry, child."
.
.
"I see you're aggrieved with tidings of my wedding," Tokio almost spat at a seemingly unaffected Saitou, hands unbecomingly tying in front of her chest.
She had even went to the trouble of making a formal invitation to him, in the lord's name, just to tell him this in private. But he, for some reason, listened to her news as if she was making a weather forecast. So upset was she by his nonchalance, had her trusted pupper been with her, by her side, he'd have rubbed himself silly on her legs.
"After all that happened with the Battousai all I can think of is, if you're not dying, we can deal with it." Then, he smirked. "And you did just explain how Matsudaira thinks so highly of me; I can't help it."
She fumed; he chuckled, deciding to stop teasing.
"I am nearly as desperate about the situation as I would have been otherwise," he continued, a knowing look on his face "for I know I have an ally on my side to help stop this union:" her eyes widened at the reveal and waited to hear the name. His lopsided smirk accompanied the name: "Hijikata." The admission actually shocked her. "He loathes the groom's family."
His what? "You and Hijikata not only knew about this before me and said nothing about it but also schemed how to be rid of him? And why? Since when does Hijikata-sama care—?"
"Tokio, Tokio, calm down," he tried to pacify her, seeing her colour started changing in an alarming rare "I just recognised the name."
She was flabbergasted; his eyes became smaller. "Don't you?"
When she shook her head emphatically no, he chuckled. "Tokio, you of all people should; he's the man whose life you saved when we were traveling back from Aizu, nearly a year ago." Then, he nodded reminiscent, looking away – missing her look of absolute shock and horror entirely – . "A year; a year already passed and yet, it feels like it was only yesterday."
"You mean to tell me the man not only remembered my name through all that pain and haze but then actively sought me out simply to propose? That's ridiculous! Committed," she added, slightly impressed, "but ridiculous."
"You make a lasting impression," was all Saitou cryptically said.
"He could have sent a gift, a letter, a note—anything other than that! And why does Hijikata dislike his family?"
"Loathe; I did not use that verb in vain. And the man is from Satsuma."
"Satsuma?" He nodded, knowing full well where she was going with this. "Why was he found on the road that leads to Chousuu?" Again, he nodded. "Is that why Hijikata doesn't trust his family?"
"For the umpteenth time, he loathes his family; him, he doesn't care for. Saigo Takamori, his older brother and lord of their house, is a very shady figure. Took their name, from disgraced and dishonored, and restored it to its former glory, with methods far from honorable and legal. Yet, no one cares, because he has money again, to go with the title. And the idea that such a man will have any influence over Matsudaira-sama, the Protector of Kyoto, in such a critical juncture," he snorted "let's just say that it tastes at the very least, bitter to Hijikata. At most, he fears—"
"—a plot," she finished for him and he was proud of her for piecing it together so quickly. "If he was so confident to send his brother to Chousuu alone, the same province that rival theirs so closely, that means he could be scheming something against the shogun. Only monetary and/or survival reasons would bring these two together."
"Precisely. Whence Hijikata fully realised who you saved, he became quite agitated. Ten months ago, actually, he told me this: if Saigo ever asked for your hand, we needed to stop it." He snorted. "And here we are now, ten months later, and I need to relay those exact news to him."
Her shoulders had squared, almost looking all around her to make sure no one was around. "That man thinks of everything, it's quite alarming."
The smirk came easily on his lips. "Only if you're an enemy."
She shook her head. "So, should I not be too worried about the wedding?"
"Although there's no guarantee your father will listen to Hijikata, I have an inclination he'll press for his opinion to be heard." Hand on chin, a half smirk remained. "When his own interests are on the line, Hijikata is the most persuasive person you've ever met. He dislikes not being the smartest person in the room too much to allow Saigo Takamori near anyone of importance."
Yes, that she could definitely see, much easier than Hijikata trying his damnest to release her from the shackles of a bad marriage, or potential wedding. Saitou's hand came to rest on her shoulder then, puling her out of her thoughts.
"Wait for news on my end, whether those come from me or someone else. But no matter what you may hear," from shoulder to chin, his hand idly stroke her skin "trust that I'll make the right decision. For I did not go through all this trouble to let you slip away just like that."
The warmth in her smile was worth a hundred tortures; the fondness in her eyes was the best balm. Smiling, he planted a quick peck on her lips and then withdrew altogether.
"I love you," she spoke once he was a good distance away but still facing her.
"Then, be patient with my absence for I fear it's going to be a lengthy one."
"The lord did specifically ask me not to meet in private with you again."
"I meant in general; I have an inkling of what Hijikata's plan will be and our absence will most possibly be a requirement."
"Then," she gave a deep bow "be safe, until I get to see you again."
"You, too, hime-sama; don't be too reckless now that I won't be here to keep an eye on you." She tried to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about. "And as much as it pains me to say it, you should act like the perfect little bride-to-be, throw off suspicions about our actions. If this is to work, I bet Hijikata wants it to be a surprise." She nodded she understood. "And if it does, and it better, I need you to promise me something."
"Anything."
"You shall not draw anymore attention to yourself, Flower of Aizu, in hopes of having a similar effect on men and you can be finally left alone." He shook his head. "In the middle of a war and yet men still flock around you, how ridiculous."
"And yet, you're one of them."
"It wouldn't be a bad deal for me, actually," he mused out loud "to perform my duty to my country, my lord and myself and not care how long I'll be gone...knowing I'll come back to a warm meal, a warm bed and a warm embrace." A sincere smile graced his lips. "It's always been the simple things I'm after; and yet, it's always the simple things that seem to be the most unattainable."
The future he described sounded perfect in her ears; while he was away, she'd take care of her patients. Whence he returned, she'd be there to take care of him and keep him company, keep him happy; in return, he'd make her happy, too. How simple; how desirable; and at the moment, how unlikely. With a final, appreciative stare, he gave a curt nod and left the room; with a final, longing gaze, her eyes followed him, the sigh not too far behind. Only one thought lingered in her mind then and it was just one: she loved this man to pieces and would do anything to have him.
Even pretend to be happy for this new, unfortunate union-to-be.
A/N: I told you, you better remember that guy's name. He was a long time coming. Ehehehe, major political issues coming right up. Also, I love you all who review and fave and alert and I hope you had a great time reading this-as well as Battousai's segment. It was very fun writing it! Leave a review on your way out, too!
Kisses,
FAI~!