AN: I have gotten bunch of wonderful reviews, all urging me to post more of this. Thank you for your support. However, the beta-reading has been slow and only the first third of this chapter has been betaed by Chie in 2014. However, over a year is awfully long wait…. So, for those that are curious about the story and don't mind typos and other horrible mistakes a highly dyslexic ESL noobie writer makes, this is for you.
Chapter 15. Tug o war
Since he had defeated the Kiheitai's commander in a spar, Kenshin naturally passed the muster. To make things even sweeter, Takasugi seemed impressed with him and curiously inquired about the name of his sword style. Without a second thought, Kenshin answered, "Hiten Mitsurugi." And for some reason, the commander startled slightly, before thoughtfully muttering, "so, that's what it was."
Not long after, the new recruits were ushered to pack up the make-shift camp and head further into the mountains.
They arrived to the official permanent training grounds in the early evening. From the first glance it was clear that the Kiheitai troop was exactly as promised; a proper paramilitary troop with nearly two hundred men residing in the camp. According to Yamagata-san, the men were constantly moving in and out with patrols, and more recruits were joining them weekly from all corners of the Choshuu's provinces Suo and Nagato.
For Kenshin, it seemed that his performance in the test had gained him the approval of the other recruits – albeit grudgingly. A few curious ones had even approached him with questions about his swordsmanship. Kenshin didn't really know what to think about this sudden change of attitude, but he had answered the questions to the best of his knowledge. However, after they settled for the night at the main camp… the looks and whispers started flying anew.
It was getting really annoying.
How should I even react to all these new people and their sudden interest? Kenshin thought in exasperation, but in the end, he did as he had always done when in doubt: withdrew and listened from the sidelines.
Yamagata-san had told them that their training would begin tomorrow, and then they would be informed of the rules, told about the pay, about further sleeping arrangements, the meals… all these essential things that they needed to know. Perhaps then, he wouldn't feel so much of an outsider.
Sleep was hard to come by, and as there weren't any convenient trees to sleep against, Kenshin just curled around his blade and clutched Kasumi's top hidden in his sleeve. Even the memento didn't help him to settle down. There were just so many people around him… and none of them felt safe.
Even in the crowd, Kenshin felt utterly alone. Kenta tried to comfort him, but it wasn't much help.
After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Kenshin finally fell into a fitful sleep.
The days rolled by.
Kenshin noticed that when it came to fulfilling requirements and regular routines demanded of the soldiers, the army life was easy. It was just doing what was asked of him, obeying the terse commands, ignoring and enduring the endless stream of taunts, and training for hours and hours every single day. To that rhythm Kenshin had settled without problems.
However the difficult part was ignoring the creeping shadow of loneliness.
Everyone around him was just so unapproachable, really. No one wanted to talk to him. Well, not that Kenshin had exactly tried talking to the other soldiers, either. But what could he talk to them about? It wasn't like he had anything in common with them, except for his beliefs and the sword!
And speaking of swordsmanship, while people had initially been interested in Hiten Mitsurugi, it seemed to have been just an idle curiosity and had passed after the first few days. Now, he was left alone and was, at most, the topic of the other soldiers' crude gossip.
This social seclusion was really beginning to get to Kenshin, and he hadn't been able to sleep properly in weeks. It was just impossible to relax with all these people around him. So perhaps it wasn't a surprise that his old nightmares had returned. To combat them, Kenshin and the spirit had been attempting to train to the point of exhaustion with their ki during the common training exercises, with very little success.
However, one evening the tedium broke when Yamagata-san came to talk to him during the evening meal.
Kenshin had once again retreated to brood in his own corner of the camp, not in the mood to listen to the other men's crude humor and the constant mean-spirited gossip, the popular topic of which was a certain scrawny redhead kid. With the things being as they were, who could fault him for thinking that it was better to be alone and avoid the crowd ?
"So how has the training been?" Yamagata-san inquired with a friendly smile, as he stopped by Kenshin's camp.
"Easy." Kenshin replied moodily. And it was true – the sad fact was that he had been training a lot harder than this for most of his life. Really, his swordsmanship training at the moment was getting ridiculous. No one was willing to spar with him anymore, not after he had easily defeated the first boastful men.
So lately, Kenshin had been confined to very limited training possibilities.
Just how exactly am I supposed to get better if I can't even get any fighting experience? Not that anyone here was even remotely a good challenge, but still… training alone meant only basic kata or simple ki-training with Kenta for efficiency and endurance. Sure it was useful for faster speed and higher jumps, more strength in arms – but it was boring.
"So I hear." Yamagata-san nodded, and smiled encouragingly; "This style of yours was called Hiten Mitsurugi?"
"Yes." Kenshin tersely replied, already disappointed. It seemed that Yamagata-san was just another of the curious ones. Just another person after information about the rare style, and when his whim was satisfied, he too would leave. Just like the others. Kenshin sighed. Why doesn't he just get to the point already and leave me alone?
"I have never heard of it."
Oh yes, just like the rest. I must have explained this at least a million times… Kenshin huffed, even though he knew it had been only a handful. It was just that he really didn't care for repeating himself. Especially, when all it ever amounted to was even more disappointment.
"Not many have. It only ever has two practitioners; the Master and the apprentice. It's a really old style, and was designed to pit one against many." Kenshin grumbled the shortest explanation he could, hoping the officer would get the hint.
"So, I gather that you are the apprentice? I mean… you are so young. Where is your Master? Why is he not with you?"
Kenshin shot a furtive look out of the corner of his eye. Next to him, Yamagata-san had crouched down to a more conversational pose and seemed thoughtful, and more importantly, genuinely interested.
Kenshin frowned, feeling at crossroads. On one hand, he really didn't have any wish to share his personal quarrel with Master with a stranger. But it also didn't seem tactful to deny the answer from his superior. And the fact was… no one had asked about Master before. So hesitantly, Kenshin explained, "Master and I… we had a disagreement. He didn't want to join any side of the conflict. But I… I felt like we could help the people better by joining the cause. So... I left."
"Huh. So that's why."
A silence settled between them, the only sound being the crackle of campfire. And then, Yamagata-san's ki warmed up a shade, and Kenshin glanced at the officer covertly.
Yamagata-san had a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth.
"I am glad that you did. You are really talented with the sword. With your skills we will have a better chance to make a difference." Then the older man rose to stand, and patted him on the shoulder, approvingly. Just like Kenshin, too, was just another comrade.
Kenshin froze in bewilderment, and watched in stunned silence as the officer left. Yamagata-san accepted me? My reasons for fighting? And he thinks that I will be valuable to the Kiheitai?
The feeling that rose in Kenshin's chest felt like the best thing that had happened to him since leaving the mountain. And then, a true smile rose to tug his lips. Even Kenta felt happier than in ages. Everything's going to be okay. It really will be!
After that, Kenshin's life as a soldier began to slowly improve.
This could mostly be attributed to Yamagata-san, and his new habit of stopping by to talk with Kenshin every now and then. Somehow those few minutes of attention made all the difference. And even if he didn't have much in common with the older man, the officer's friendly demeanor and inspiring words worked wonders to ease Kenshin's soul-crushing loneliness.
However, the issue of his training continued to cause grief.
While the Kiheitai troops performed mostly group fighting exercises, Kenshin fit in those like a square peg into a round hole. Sure, he could and did obey the orders, but his abilities simply outshone everyone else's by miles. The lieutenants had noted this, and had begun to direct him for covering the retreats.
But during the regular group drills, Kenshin was left to train by himself. It was like despite his best wishes, Kenshin simply wasn't fit to be a soldier.
One night, Kenshin finally managed to gather his nerve and complained about this to Yamagata-san. And after a pause, the older man looked directly into his eyes and noted calmly, "for those with skill, there will always be a place."
Just as Kenshin was about to protest, the officer raised his hand slightly, just enough to quell the starting words. Then he continued thoughtfully, his eyes piercing, "but if it happens that you are too good to fight in an simple army unit… for the cause, we can always find other uses for your talents."
It was nearly two months later, when the chance finally came.
The night before, Yamagata-san had pulled Kenshin aside and remarked to him, "Takasugi-san will be entertaining a visitor tomorrow. If you play your cards right and manage to impress him… something might just come out of it."
Kenshin hadn't needed to ask more. The officer's hooded gaze and unusually serious demeanor told him enough – this could be his chance to get into the thick of things.
Finally.
So far Kiheitai hadn't seen any fighting. Just sitting in the training camp wasn't doing anything to ensure the common people's happiness. No, this would be a step forward that Kenshin couldn't let pass him by.
The next day showed the most miserable excuse for summer weather; a cold drizzling rain, blowing straight from the sea. Kenshin's unit was doing basic drills on the training posts alongside with newcomers. Most of the men were practicing their charging strikes either with spears or the bayonet of the few new western rifles Takasugi had managed to scrounge for their use. The intention behind the exercise was to prepare the units to use this new combat style so they would be capable of facing the foreign troops on equal ground.
Of course, Kenshin hadn't been participating in these drills since the very first days. It simply wasn't practical to have him doing the grunt work, especially considering his slight build and highly specialized skill-set. So, just like usual, he was on the side, practicing on controlling his ki more efficiently.
In a way, he didn't mind having to share the training ground with so many others. It allowed him to pretend he was one of them, a soldier like the rest. However, Kenshin really could have done without the group of three newcomer samurai staring at him, not even bothering to be subtle about it.
Worse, the idiots with their fancy paired swords and pointless bravado hadn't yet learned about him from their peers and kept picking on him about his age and appearance with mean jokes and mocking words. "Ha. The kid brought his own sword.""Hey kid, I'll give you a ryu if you manage to cut the training post in half."
Kenshin scowled, annoyed by the reminder and the men's disbelief about his abilities. Have they never met a dangerous and capable, if somewhat small man?
But that final remark, it had some promise. After all, the pay day for sixth month hadn't arrived yet. As a child of truly poor origins, Kenshin valued having the safety money provided. Besides, a full golden ryu was worth a lot. Perhaps he would have the time…
Oh damn! There was finally Takasugi-san's familiar ki -presence and accompanying it… another. A well-defined aura that felt notably carefully controlled. Most likely a talented swordsman, Kenshin surmised and glanced subtly at the road overseeing the muddy training ground. And there they were – Takasugi and a finely dressed Samurai holding an umbrella.
Yes, definitely the opportunity Yamagata-san had told him about earlier.
Something impressive, huh? Out of all the moves Kenshin had in his repertoire, some flashier than others… the Ryutsuisen was definitely his favorite. Then again, there was the matter of those three idiots and their money. How sweet would it be to force them to eat their mocking words? But simply cutting through the post was so easy…
Hmm… choices, choices.
On the road, Takasugi-san was looking at him with a pointed frown, signaling for him to hurry it up.
Kenshin bit his lip in indecision, but then grinned as the idea came to him and it was just about perfect; unusual and showy, just as Hiten Mitsurugi's improvements to the basic strikes usually were, plus it fulfilled the parameters of the challenge.
'Yes. That will do.' Kenta agreed enthusiastically.
'Just like you.' Kenshin smiled, for once approving of the spirit's evil sense of justice. A moment's intense focus and Kenshin opened his senses to let Kenta to flow to his side of the wall, and then directed the ki to the blade…
And cut.
The quick draw strike of Souryusen cut through the thick log like it was melted rice paste, and the follow up, a solid hit by the iron sheath threw the upper half of the post off in a rather impressive curve. Kenshin exhaled, and closed his eyes to enjoy the gasps of surprise from the crowd behind him. He just loved impressing people.
However, even though the look of naked astonishment on the three idiot's faces quite likely served to make his day, money was money. Expectantly Kenshin held out his hand and deadpanned, "my ryo, please."
When the letter had arrived a bit over a month ago, the man most commonly known as Katsura Kogora had been perplexed.
His affairs in the Capital kept him notoriously busy and his old friend Takasugi Shinsaku was well aware of the fact. But here was a letter asking Katsura to take the time for a personal visit to Hagi? And instead of a proper explanation, there was only a postscript saying there was something interesting the man wished to show him?
What on earth?
Even the best of his guesses wouldn't shed more light on the mystery, other than that it must have something to do with the new paramilitary force Takasugi had been building from a scratch, Katsura decided. But the wording of the letter was definitely unusual, especially considering by whom it was written. Takasugi was an energetic, battle-loving and boastful man. Normally when he wrote, he would express his meaning clearly, if with a bit too much flourish. But not this time.
Now, if the handwriting wasn't so achingly familiar and their usual code words hadn't matched, Katsura would have suspected a fraud. If only! That would have been a far simpler matter to take care of. No, this was just Takasugi being tight-lipped to an outrageous degree.
"… take time and visit me in the province. I have something here that will catch your interest for sure." Well, if nothing else, his friend's claim had been correct – Katsura was curious.
So even if it took him the better part of a month, Katsura wrangled his affairs into order and rode out to Hagi. The journey was long and hideously uncomfortable in the middle summer's heat wave. So much that Katsura was almost ready to disclaim all ties to his boyhood comrade – only thing holding his patience was that fact that Takasugi hadn't ever betrayed him.
Of course, when he finally reached the mountain training camp, the weather was also miserable… but in an entirely different manner. The pouring rain would have been pleasant change if not for its coldness. And then Katsura was paraded around the camp, forced to suffer through hours of watching the Kiheitai troop's prowess. But while the soldiers and their new western influenced training regiment were appealing and having firsthand knowledge about them could be useful for furthering the Ishin Shishi's agenda in the Capital.… it wasn't anything he hadn't already expected, knowing Takasugi.
So why was I invited here? Katsura frowned and glanced at the man walking by his side. Takasugi was in good spirits, but he looked leaner, even gaunt compared to the last time. The insidious sickness, tuberculosis, was eating the man's vitality and there was nothing anyone could do about it. And the wet weather certainly isn't helping matters, either…
"That one." Takasugi said suddenly and nodded towards the training field, directing Katrura's gaze to a lone child among the soldiers. The boy was tiny, couldn't be more than ten years old. And red hair? A sword?
A foreign swordsman among Takasugi's rifle troops?
And then the child sliced through the ten inch thick oak post like it was nothing. A feat that even Katsura for his lifelong swords-training and famous prowess with the blade could never even imagine of trying to attempt. At that moment, Katsura Kogoro realized that here was exactly what he needed in Kyoto.
"How about that?" The Kiheitai commander asked with a smug tone, clearly pleased at his surprise.
"Takasugi…"
To further their shared political agenda, to weaken the Shogun's government, they needed to clear out key players in the game. In these last few years, Katsura had had few assassinations conducted by some of his samurai comrades, but it had been always messy business. It was a tricky dilemma. A lone fighter was always at the risk of failing, but a group was highly visible and often too slow.
Worse, those clumsily carried out amateur attempts failed to give out the proper message.
No, Ishin Shishi needed a fighter capable of cutting down every one in his path and then to disappear in the darkness, without anyone being the wiser. They needed a killer capable of instilling the ungodly terror for every single cowardly heart of Shogun's backers.
"I know you saw him with those wide open eyes of yours."
An Assassin – that's what we need.
"That boy…"
And here, in Takasugi's army, is a boy capable of doing the deed.
"I want him to come to Kyoto with me." Katsura uttered, still staring at the impossibility before him. The tiny wisp of a boy was talking to the other soldiers and was holding his hand for money..?
Were they gambling?
Takasugi didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared pensively at the troops training for a good long while and then headed to the main camp's direction. "Hmmm. Come, walk with me."
"Wasn't this what your letter hinted at?" Katsura finally asked, more than slightly perplexed.
"I came across the kid early this spring. My second in command, Yamagata Kyusuke, was doing recruitment in Hagi. He had to pick up the boy, or risk alleviating the lower class recruits. After all, we boast that we will accept everyone if they have the ability." Takasugi said, spitting to the ground.
Takasugi's sickness was acting up, or more likely – progressing faster than had they estimated. Katsura judged from the amount of blood hitting the soil. Damn.
"Now, Kyusuke had a problem; he had absolutely no intention of actually recruiting the boy, but he couldn't dismiss him outright either. So the smart man he is, Kyosuke thought to bring the kid along with others and then to help along the kid's sad, but all together expected failure with some selective choices of opponents. The problem was, not a single one of my soldiers wanted to have a go at the kid. But the little bugger insisted." Takasugi sighed and after a minute pause, continued, "I could respect that will, so I dueled with him."
While this all was very interesting… what are you getting at? Katsura raised his brow in silent question. After all, Takasugi wasn't a sentimental man.
"The kid beat me easily. It was like fighting against a lightning. I couldn't see a thing, didn't have time to react. The kid had a blade at my throat in seconds."
"Truly?"
If the kid could easily outmatch Takasugi, who was one of the better swordsmen Katsura had ever met, he would be perfect.
"Yeah. Couldn't help but to ask the name of the kid's sword school. It's Hiten Mitsurugi."
"Oh…"
That changed things, Katsura frowned, disappointed. Or does it?
The Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu was the sword style that was practically legendary in the southwestern Japan. It was made famous especially in Hagi by the Old man Niitsu, the 12th Hiko Seijuuro. Katsura and most of his peers were brought up with stories on how the Master had settled the fiercest quarrel in the century, one that had been on the verge of exploding into a full blown civil war, by single-handedly bringing the powerful Ki-clan to the heel.
And knowing to exactly who that clan was directly connected by blood… The old man Niitsu must have had ego and cunning to match his legendary fame. It was those stories that had pushed Katsura in his youth to hunt down the rest of the myths and rumors mentioning the Hiko Seijuurous. It was the reason why, even now, he kept an ear out for the whispers of "White Death".
The Hiten Mitsurugi a style that was rumored to be passed down only once a generation for ensuring the peace for the common people. It's legacy backed uninterrupted all the way from the era of civil wars. The strength of the style was unrivaled, the reputation flawless… it was universally admired in every story. And it was something that Katsura, as a student of history had always wanted to witness…
"Yeah, that."
…and here it was, in the form of a mixed blood child. How on earth had that happened?
"The kid wants to help the people, to create a world where people are treated fairly. A naïve child, truly. But he has a good heart and skilled arm." Takasugi said and again spat on the ground, like even the words had turned bitter in his mouth.
"I know what you need in Kyoto. Those failed and badly executed assassinations are bad for Ishin Shishi's reputation and don't work as they should. You need someone skilled and the boy would be perfect for it. So, I ask you – are you willing to stain the sword of Mitsurugi with this? Are you willing to drown that kid in blood?"
Katsura frowned and considered the matter. He believed in his work and the Ishin Shishi's cause, there was no question about it. Ever since his teacher's death in the hands of Bakufu, he had awakened to more radical measures to gain the leverage they needed. The Shogun's government was its last days. If they could push enough, play the game right… they had the chance to end the tyranny, push Japan into a new age and ready it to face the foreigners in their own terms. But for that…
"Yes."
For the cause I can sacrifice even the legendary blade of Mitsurugi. For the new era… there truly isn't anything I wouldn't give up.
"I don't like the thought of putting the kid into that work. I truly don't. I would prefer to keep him here, let him grow and use him with the rest of Kiheitai militia when they are needed. But the kid is willing and has been getting more restless by the day. So, I will let you talk to him, but it's up to you to convince him."
Sometime after the training session's end, Yamagata-san came to fetch Kenshin. Apparently Takasugi-san wished to have a word.
So, does this mean that the visitor was impressed with me and wants to meet? Maybe they have a better use of my talents? Kenshin pondered wishfully, as he crossed the muddy field.
The commander's housing was a large but simple wooden structure at the sidelines and it had clan signs and Kiheitai's banner decorating the doorway. Stepping inside, Kenshin's eyes immediately zeroed onto Takasugi-san's visitor, the unknown Samurai in fine clothes and the paired blades at his side. The man's presence just oozed power and charisma and Kenshin couldn't help but to feel impressed.
Yes, he is definitely someone important.
Sitting by the wall, idly plunging the strings of his lute, Takasugi nodded to him and barked a terse introduction, "Kenshin, this is Katsura Kogoro. The head of Choshuu province's Ishin Shishi."
The new Samurai didn't turn, just continued to watch out from the window.
Kenshin nodded slowly, feeling somewhat unnerved by their behavior. Am I supposed to do something? Just what is going on?
It seemed like an eternity rolled by as he waited in silence, shifting the point of his balance from one leg to another as a way of driving the nervous energy somewhere. But then, the new man, this Katsura turned to look at him sharply and spoke, "I'm going to be straight with you."
His expression was serious and utterly focused on Kenshin, like he was trying to see something. That intense gaze was eerily similar to the sheer pressure his Master had exhibited during important spars and the tiny hairs at the back of Kenshin's neck stood up, shivers running down his spine.
"Are you willing to kill people?"
Kenshin's heart skipped a space and his eyes flew wide open with realization; this is it.
"There is no point in mincing words. I will need you to kill people for me. In order to create a new world, we must first destroy the old one. It's not pleasant, but it needs to be done."
Of course Kenshin had known that he would need to kill people, he had even been prepared for it. The principles of Hiten Mitsurugi stated that its power should be used to ensure the happiness of common people and to attain that goal, his journey had brought him here. But…
Putting it plainly like that… Kenshin inhaled sharply, and for the first time it didn't feel like they were speaking of might-be's and eventualities, but of actual reality. Even Kenta was stunned into silence.
"You have said that you want to use your skills to protect the people. I am asking, if I can borrow those skills. Will you kill people in order to create a new world? Will you do it?"
This man, this Katsura Kogoro, was the leader of the Choshuu's Ishin Shishi, a movement that wanted to further the goal of "Sonno Joi." It was a cause that Kenshin agreed would bring better life to the common people. It would help the innocents much better than Master's way of using Hiten Mitsurugi had ever had… and this man is asking me to lend my strength for that purpose.
How could he refuse? It was all Kenshin had wanted to do since leaving the mountain and he couldn't let this chance pass by him. Not even if his heart was bumping like a rabbit's in sprint, and the world had dwindled into a pair of dark, serious eyes locked into his. Steeling his resolve, Kenshin tried to put his thoughts into words. "If there is new world that can be created by my sword, a world where everyone can live peacefully and without fear… if my arm can create that world – I will kill."
Katsura nodded, sealing the simple agreement. Takasugi-san looked away, his ki feeling all muddled up.
The next couple hours flew in flurry as Kenshin rushed to gather his possessions and handled his affairs into order with Kiheitai. This included quite a few necessities such as gathering his pay for the current month and requisitioning travel provisions. Now he was finally heading to the edge of the camp where he was to meet with Takasugi-san and Katsura-san to travel down the mountain in their company.
However, the first problem of the long journey became soon apparent; both Samurai were apparently going to ride. They were conversing by their saddled up and ready mounts, and there was a horse arranged for Kenshin too. It really would have been perfectly logical and reasonable thing, if not for the fact…
"I don't know how to ride." Kenshin confessed ashamedly, feeling less and less like a proper soldier and more like a country bumpkin thrust into too fine company.
Katsura-san's questioning look just served to drive the nail in even deeper, and then Takasugi-san had the gall to bark a laugh, "Of course you don't. Come on kid, it's not that hard. Here, let me give you a lift." And with those words, the commander casually lifted Kenshin by his armpits on the horse!
As if he was just a little kid!
Kenshin would have been enraged at the sheer injustice of it all, if he only had the time. But suddenly, there was this huge animal between his legs, his feet were in stirrups and pair of reins was thrust into his hands.
He gaped in befuddlement. Just what am I supposed to do, now?
"Just kick if you want the beast to move. Pull at both reins, if you want it to slow down. That's all there is to it." Takasugi-san instructed with his energetic and commanding way, and then he, too, mounted up and they were off.
At first, Kenshin desperately clutched the reins in his fingers and gripped the saddle for better balance. However, it seemed that the horse didn't care what he did, but instead trotted calmly along, keeping its place as the last of the line.
What am I? A sack of rice? Kenshin's first thought was indignant, but then the other side of the coin came clear. If it just blindly follows the others, I don't need to know how to ride either…
The realization calmed Kenshin just enough for him to look up from his death clutch of the reins, and saw both Takasugi-san and Katsura-san in deep conversation, riding ahead him like they had been born to it.
Of course. They both are samurai… it's expected of them to know how to ride.
And I'm not. Kenshin moodily frowned, but then purposefully forced his fingers to hold the reins more gently and sat up a bit straighter on the hard and uncomfortable saddle, trying to get used to the beast's awkward motion.
Despite his best attempts, Kenshin was unable to relax entirely on the saddle. However riding wasn't that bad. With his sword resting on his hip and his travelling gear settled against the curve of his back, he was free to just sit there and look around.
And he couldn't help but to think: maybe there is a point to this…
They rode the down the narrow mountain road, horse's gait lazy. It was the high summer; the roadsides were full of grass and wildflowers, the trees green with new growth. It wasn't too hot, and even the road wasn't dusty because of the earlier rain.
Not bad sight to look at, Kenshin noted and tried to shift his balance. The horse's swaying motion was starting to pain his thighs and backside.
Am I doing something wrong, or do people truly travel like this for hours? Sitting on these hard saddles for days on end?
Gods, no. I would rather walk.
Kenshin adjusted his seat once more, trying to find a better position. But then again, maybe this too required training. Some time to condition his muscles to the new strain. But did he truly want to get used to this?
Well, it isn't like I have much of a choice.
He preferred walking, yes. But if Katsura-san wanted him to ride, he probably should. And come to think of it, where are we going? Will we have to travel much longer?
What did Takasugi-san say about directing a horse, again? Kick and it will move, pull at reins to slow it down… right? Kenshin gathered the loose reins into a better hold and experimentally tugged them gently. The horse flicked its furry ears a tiny bit, but didn't react otherwise.
Huh.
So, should I pull harder?
That got a reaction! Suddenly, the beast slowed to stand still.
Okay... time to get us back to moving before we are left behind. Kenshin squeezed the horse's sides with his legs, to no avail.
Well, it isn't like this lazy beast will move otherwise… and thus Kenshin dug his heels into the horse's sides.
The horse flicked its ears and shook its head, clearly annoyed.
And just what did I do wrong, now?
Oh…
He was still pulling at the reins. Automatically, Kenshin pushed his hands forward to give the horse more room to move, and whaaaaaaaaaat?
Why is it running?!
"Say Kogoro, in Kyoto… what are you going to do with the boy?" Takasugi asked, sprawling casually on his saddle and idly smacked the mosquito biting the horse's neck.
Katsura frowned. Shinsaku had brought up a good point. As an assassin, the boy's identity would have to an absolute secret, known only to those that needed to know. That was the only way to control a secret in the no man's land that was the Capital's political scene in these days.
And even if Katsura had mostly succeeded in remaining publicly as an utterly unremarkable, low ranked, backcountry politician… Choshuu's sedimentary attitude was very well known. His movements were tracked by friends and foes alike. If he were to arrive in Kyoto with a highly noticeable foreign blooded child, of unknown class and status no less, the rumor mill would definitely pick it up.
No, that won't do. I need to hide to boy… but where? Katsura tightened his left fist and idly tapped the right hand's fingers against the saddle's arch. There really aren't many I can trust with a secret like this, and foreigner's blood, of all things…
Beside Katsura, the Kiheitai commander continued his disinterested act, pretending not to notice his quiet perusal. And what is Shinsaku's angle in this? He is behaving oddly, and that remark… why is he so interested in the boy? Something here doesn't add up. Katsura frowned, but then thought out loud, "hiding him is the only option, with the situation being as it is right now. However, I will need to keep the boy close and in the city to be of use whenever necessary."
"Hidden in plain sight, huh."
"That's unusually cryptic, coming from you. I would have thought you to be more plainspoken."
Takasugi nodded, but didn't react to the prompt at first. "Hmmm. I don't care for deceit like this, but the thing that keeps coming to my mind…. the capital is filled to the brim with Samurai and Ronin at the moment. Many Ishin Shishi are using aliases to hide their activities from Bakufu and their lords."
"So, you would have him pretend to be born to name?" Katsura skeptically noted, "Not only illegal, but also quite impossible, as you very well know. I don't have the power to raise anyone to the status."
"Ha! You haven't cared about legalities in years, not as such. And while you may not have the power, you do have the influence."
That's… very true.
Indeed, while Katsura was only a Samurai among many others, he had worked to gain network of useful connections and widespread respect. And here in Hagi, in the clan matters – it was indeed doable to pull few of his better strings and slip the boy into the clan registries as a lower ranked vassal. Provided no one would be too interested in investigating the paper trail, the deceit shouldn't surface again.
"I will arrange things. Thank you for your insight, Shinsaku."
"Don't thank me yet." Takasugi snorted, and paused to gather his thoughts, "it seems that you haven't fully realized all the implications – the kid is a country bumpkin thorough. That riding thing? That's only a beginning of it."
Katsura's look of polite disbelief might as well have been the exact same he had honed into perfection during the many meetings among the clan elders. The boy was clearly well-educated and had polite manners. While he wasn't a Samurai in right, it didn't matter much because someone had taught him well. Granted, Katsura had spoken with the child for just a few shorts moments, but all together the boy had left a good impression.
Takasugi scoffed at him in mocking amusement and spat to clear his throat before remarking pointedly, "the boy knows the sword, yes. He may be soft spoken and reasonably well mannered. But the rest? I don't know what his education has included. He may know reading and writing, or not. May or may not know culture, proper ways of addressing people, social protocol, how to dress properly… the list goes on and on. What I am trying to say, if you want this ruse to work, you will have to teach the kid."
Before Katsura even had a chance to answer, a commotion rose behind them; the kid had managed to spook his horse.
How on earth?
The nag was the laziest looking pack mount he had ever seen, and Katsura hadn't even understood Takasugi's insistence to reserve it for the boy until that lack of riding skills had come up.
I wouldn't have thought that even shooting a rifle next to that beast's ears would spook it…
Shinsaku shot a covert look at him and barked a laugh, before turning his horse around and galloping to catch the stray. Stopping his horse as well, Katsura settled for a wait.
A country bumpkin, eh?
It seemed that his friend was once again right and to make this work, the kid would absolutely have to conduct himself properly. Given the need for secrecy, there really weren't many teachers that could be arranged. No, all together it's best to keep this one close to the chest.
Well, at least I will have time. Katsura sighed, already disdaining the necessity of travel. The distance from southwestern Hagi to the capital was 340 miles and with moderate pace via horseback, it took about two weeks.
Tonight, they would stop at his estate and restock for the trip, but then it would be riding all day long. But if the boy needs to pass as Samurai in Kyoto…
Katsura frowned, and considered the sight before him; a tiny, scruffy foreigner's child in practical but worn cotton clothes retorting hotly back at laughing Takasugi. Not even the blade at the boy's waist worked to give him the appearance of a warrior.
I will need to get him things, starting with proper clothing. Those really are rags…
It was early evening that they arrived to Katsura's family estate in Hagi, which was a lavish and highly stylized wooden two-story building. Immediately upon arriving to the courtyard, servants welcomed them and attended their horses. Then in short order, the weary travelers were arranged rooms and a meal was brought for them.
For Kenshin, this sort of blatant wealth was a very odd experience, even when comparing to his few hazy memories of Osumi and the Shiomi estate in Matsue. He just wasn't used to having his needs attended by others, to being served like he was a lord.
It left him particularly unsure on how to behave.
To make things even more unnerving, whenever Kenshin hesitated on anything, like on simple etiquette, Takasugi-san would glance at Katsura-san, who in turn would frown thoughtfully. Neither of the men seemed angry, nor dismayed with his mishaps. But still, those glances were odd and left Kenshin feeling more and more like outsider.
It was only after dinner, that Kenshin finally got to have some answers to what was going on with the two Samurai and their silent conversation.
"Kenshin – that's what you are called, isn't that right?" Katsura-san asked, out of sudden.
Nodding promptly, Kenshin opened his lips trying to find the words for a proper answer. But somehow, it seemed even more impossible than usual. Not that Master is here to admonish me of not using the verbal answers…
I won't have to be "idiot student" ever again, but simply Kenshin. That thought should have been happy one, but instead it felt hollow.
Come to think of it, though Katsura-san was introduced to me… I wasn't ever introduced to him in turn. It was maybe an odd thing to notice at this late time, but an introduction was always considered polite necessity, even among the lower classes. So, this odd lack… did it mean something?
"I gather that you are not of Samurai class."
"No. My father was a farmer." Kenshin hesitantly answered, voicing the truth from the best angle. But it's useless if Katsura-san is like those Samurai, who don't approve of the "lower classes stepping outside their boundaries"…
"That's what I thought. I don't value people by their social class, but it's a good thing to know. In any case… as you heard, I am the head of Choshuu's Ishin Shishi. However, I do most of my work these days in the capital. So we will be travelling to Kyoto tomorrow."
Kyoto! The Capital! Kenshin stared, utterly stunned. I have never been that far…
"Unfortunately, my activities are followed closely. If I were to arrive in Kyoto with a child of foreign blood, questions would arise. However, as an influential man I never travel without a bodyguard. So, if I happen to arrive with a young Samurai guard, never mind his unusually pale skin and a perchance for wearing hats, no one would question it."
What's Katsura-san trying to say? Travel, bodyguard… Oh. "But posing as a Samurai is a crime."
"It is. However, I am planning on adding you to the clan registries here in Hagi. If you don't raise too much attention, no one would know better. There are over a hundred lower class Samurai families here in Choshuu and it would take an extensive investigation to uncover the truth. Who in the capital would be interested?"
It certainly sounds logical, but… on top of being illegal, it's also a lie. Kenshin hesitated. He had always been aware that he was of lower birth, and to make things even worse – he was an orphan sold into slavery and thus thrust outside the caste system. It was practically impossible for him not to know the difference in status after living for years with his educated and cultured Master.
On the other hand, Kenshin didn't wish to give trouble to Katsura-san either.
But then again, the thought of telling the untruth didn't sit well on Kenshin's conscience. So, he tried to put his hesitation into words, as awkward and rude as they were; "I don't know. I don't lie and… I don't even know much of Samurai."
At the sidelines, Takasugi-san scoffed. Katsura-san, however, didn't pay any attention to the commander, but instead kept looking at Kenshin intently, "it's a common practice to use alternate names. Ishin Shishi works to overthrow the Bakufu's tyranny and our activities must be hidden with a veil of secrecy. I cover my goings occasionally with the name Niibori Matsusuke. Even Takasugi-san, here, uses the name Tani Umenosuke for this very purpose. It would be quite much the same thing for you to assume an identity as Samurai."
"Oh."
The thorough explanation felt quite like an admonishment, but the tone it was delivered in was kind and made it all sound very reasonable. Of course the government wouldn't look too kindly on any activity that threatened it, which was the exact reason Kenshin had trouble finding out about Kiheitai and Ishin Shishi's activities in the first place. And if it all was for the goal of ensuring the happiness of common people, what was one lie for it?
"…I'll do it. But, I don't know if I will be very good at it."
"That will be easily corrected. The travel will take a fortnight and I can teach you on the road."
Two weeks? Kenshin gaped, a feeling of foreboding striking him. Travelling to the Capital by foot would take a lot longer than couple weeks, even if he would travel alone. So… No.
No way.
Horses? Riding for weeks? Kenshin shuddered, before even more worrying fear hit him. What if I can't do it? Pretending to be a Samurai... even with Katsura-san promising to teach me, two weeks is awfully short time...
"Speaking of names. The Samurai have the right to bear a family name. Do you have a preference? I can invent you one, if you would like… but the names do have a meaning to them, the family names more than others, as they have a legacy to uphold."
Kenshin glanced up at Katsura-san in surprise. A family name?
…well, if I am to act as a Samurai, I should have one, too, Kenshin paused, before nodding thoughtfully. But what would be good name?
Kenshin had always liked the meanings behind names, and their significance had been a long holding fascination for him ever since he had been a little kid – since Master had renamed him as "Heart of the Sword". And because of this, he too had in turn given the spirit the name Kenta in turn, as it had been with him since he was Shinta…
A family name, though…
'What do you think?' He asked the spirit. This concerned them both.
Hesitation. Agreement.
Then the image of village in flames.
It was the memory of the Samurai incident!
'Yes.' Kenta whispered.
Kenshin thought it over; it had been very important moment in his life. Actually, hadn't his conviction that the law wasn't protecting the people good enough been born then? So in truth, the path leading him to this very moment… it began back then.
The petting agreement feeling.
If family names had a legacy to uphold and if Kenshin was to take a new name for fighting… then it would be the only fitting choice, because his fight for Sonno Joi and Ishin Shishi had started there, in village covered in flames. So fire – Hi and village – Mura.
Doesn't sound too bad, Kenshin thought and tried it out loud, tasting the syllables, "Himura. Himura Kenshin."
"That's a fine name." Katsura-san agreed. "I will see to it. Get some rest now. We will have much to do tomorrow before we can leave."
…just like that? Kenshin boggled. But recognizing a clear dismissal, he took his leave.
After dismissing the boy, Katsura couldn't help but to notice his friend's pensive mood. However, there wasn't any need to look further for the cause. Takasugi's dislike of the idea of using the boy as an assassin and the resulting inner fight between morality and desperation of their needs had been going all day.
If I am entirely honest, I don't care about this either, Katsura scoffed. The more he talked with the boy, the more he realized that he liked the kid. Kenshin had a heart in the right place, but at the same time, he was so dreadfully young.
Katsura had been surprised to learn that the boy was already 13 years old. He would have assumed it less, because boy was so small – Kenshin couldn't be even five feet tall.
But there is a need, and here is a willing resource to be used. That's all there is to it, Katsura decided. In any case, tomorrow would be busy day. The boy would need to be outfitted for the role and his current bodyguard dismissed for other duties. It really wouldn't do to travel with more than one, as it only served to raise unnecessary attention – and Kenshin could easily protect him if it became necessary.
"The boy's soul will be ruined by this work, you know?"
Raising his brow in skeptical disbelief, Katsura rebuffed; "Shinsaku, you can't keep him here."
Of all the moments, now he chooses to make his mind? We are already in Hagi!
Takasugi plunged his lute, frowning in thought. And then, his friend raised his gaze and shot a dark, half lidded look at him – and, at that moment, Katsura realized why so many people feared the Kiheitai commander. The casual danger the man was known for, was for the first time aimed directly at him.
"If you need an assassin that badly, you could do it yourself. You were good enough with the blade in Edo. Except for Sakamoto Ryuma, you never lost."
True, Katsura bowed his head in acquaintance of the scathing remark. I do have the skill for the deed.
But the fact was…
I am not anymore a mere boy studying swordsmanship, nor a student in Yoshida Shoin's school with you.
No, Katsura had grown into his position as a major political player, as an influential man in his own right in this deadly game for the future of the country. In the dead calm tone that allowed no argument, he stated, "if I could, I would. But I am the head of Choshuu Ishin Shishi now."
And with those words, Katsura lowered his tea to the tray in front of him, gathered his sword and rose. It's decided. And the harsh truth is… among the two of us, I am the leader now.
A mocking tone continued behind his back, "yeah. That's right. You are the the head of Choshuu at the revolutions' festival. No one will carry a leader covered in blood. So you are going to ruin that boy's life, just so you can stay clean."
Not allowing himself to be provoked, Katsura turned around and with a challenging look invited the man to say his piece and be done with it.
Takasugi didn't deign to face him, but just looked to the distance for a while, before nodding, alike coming to a decision. "The boy is the most prized member of my Kiheitai, but I will let you take him to Kyoto, on one condition."
"What is it?"
"You must keep your life clean and virtuous. Promise me, you will never again draw your sword."
If that is the price for the deal… so be it. Katsura bowed his head in agreement. After all, if he was going to have Hiten Mitsurugi's strength on his command, there would be no need for him to use his sword again. And Takasugi was right – people would follow a leader that they could respect and admire. He would have to become a person worth of that regard.
"You have my word. This night marks the end of Katsura Kogoro, the swordsman."
It was settled. Takasugi wouldn't step in his way anymore, so he turned his back and started towards the door, ready to retire for the night.
"Good, now you can concentrate on leading the Choshuu Ishin Shishi. Leave everything else on my hands."
"I will count on you." Katsura called over his shoulder, and left.
I have a family name now? I will be a Samurai?
It seemed too big a thing to understand at the moment, Kenshin pondered as he hobbled along the corridors, his backside and thighs aching desperately from the awkward ride. And we will ride again tomorrow?
Ugh... Maybe it really is a good idea to retire already.
Kenshin's room in Katsura-san's estate was simple, but every item was of high quality, like the thick, soft bedding put ready for his use. Kenshin glanced at the futon suspiciously, already suspecting that it would be useless endeavor to attempt to sleep in it.
The problem was that Kenshin had spent most of his life sleeping on a thin bedroll laid flat directly to the hard ground. Even at the mountain there hadn't been any luxuries. Added to that his recent sleeping problems…
But will I ever get another chance to enjoy luxuries like this?
Well, it was better not to think of things he had no control over, and it wasn't like he was that tired. More importantly, the room had a window! Kenshin settled to sit on the window sill to marvel at the pretty sky, already liking this fancy addition. Not many houses he had visited had proper windows.
Somehow, it really was calming to look at the sky painted in hues of red and blue without needing to climb to the roof.
Katsura-san had seemed really kind and understanding man, but at the same time, his ki felt very still and collected, cold – almost calculating.
Truthfully, Kenshin didn't know what to think of the man.
On one hand, it was blatantly obvious that the head of Choshuu's Ishin Shishi was a swordsman. In a duel, Kenshin would have hesitated to attack him first, as ki and the carefully collected way the man walked screamed danger.
But on the other hand, there was the calm, kind and cultured look of the man... It was like what Katsura-san looked like and felt like didn't match. But nevertheless, Kenshin had already agreed to lend his strength for the man's cause.
To kill for him.
He had already agreed to lie for the cause, something he hadn't ever wanted to do.
"…If you leave this mountain, you will live a life of murder, under the will of men who write their own justice. If you throw your lot with them, Hiten Mitsurugi will make you a mass murderer!" Master's warning rang in his head. It was hard to believe it had been already few months since then.
Is this really the right choice?
Will following this Katsura Kogoro be the best use of Hiten Mitsurugi's strength? Should I trust Katsura-san?
This man with two faces?
It wasn't a comforting thought.
Actually, the more Kenshin turned it all around in his head, the more unsure he felt about it all. Attempting to banish the unsettling thoughts, he took Kasumi's top from his pocket. It was only a child's toy and he wasn't a kid anymore. But just looking at it…
"Live Shinta. Live for me." She had said back then.
For innocents like her.
Yes, for innocents like Kasumi and Miya – I will stain my hands in blood. I will protect others like them. Many more than Master's actions ever did, countless innocent lives.
Yes.
I will be their savior – a hero.
