Disclaimer: No one belongs to me! *sighs sadly*
A/N: AU POT story.
Reviewers, thank you for your support! It brings me so much joy when I get any reviews! I am really grateful. Ano, this is a long, but important chapter. I hope you stick with me through this. Domo arigato!
Chi: Part II
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1850, Shirakawa Village
The two boys sat sprawled under a tree, limbs akimbo, panting heavily as they drew in deep breaths of cool spring air.
"Nya, Soujirou! Daijoubu?"
"I am fine, Miyoshi. I just need to catch my breath."
At Soujirou's words, the other boy nodded. A companionable silence ensued.
Gradually, the pounding in his heart slowed to a steady beat and the burning in his legs subsided. Soujirou turned and looked searchingly at his red-haired friend. "And you, Miyoshi, are you alright as well?"
"Nya! Daijoubu!" Miyoshi grinned widely, his lapis lazuli blue eyes sparkling with good cheer as he triumphantly brandished a small pouch. "Thanks for showing up at the perfect time! Otherwise those gangsters would have taken the money, and I wouldn't be able to pay for Otou-san's medicine. Soujirou saves the day!"
Soujirou's lips curved into a smile. "Nothing like a few well-aimed pebbles and two pairs of good legs to get us out of trouble."
"Hoi! Hoi!" Miyoshi shouted enthusiastically, and both boys broke into fresh laughter, their bodies shaking with mirth. Yet, even as they laughed, Miyoshi and Soujirou scrupulously avoided each other's eyes, afraid to see the truth that was reflected in the depths.
Soujirou and Miyoshi knew that it was only through sheer luck that they, two defenseless six year old boys, had escaped from the group of gangsters. True, both of them had acquired a few scratches and bruises: Soujirou's knees were scraped and bleeding, while the lump at Miyoshi's left temple had swelled to the size of a goose egg; but they could have both been seriously injured, and worse, Miyoshi's hard-earned money would have been taken...
Soujirou's eyes hardened as he glanced at Miyoshi, noting the gauntness of his body and the shadows beneath his eyes; even his trademark mop of red hair seemed to have lost its lustre.
"Neh, Miyoshi, how is your Otou-san doing?" Soujirou asked softly.
"He is still very ill and can't even get up to sit on his bed..." Miyoshi said quietly, his eyes pensive. "Sometimes I think he's getting better, but then the next day his condition will be the same..."
A gleam of determination came into Miyoshi's eyes as he turned to face Soujirou: "Otou-san will get better! It's just a matter of time! Then both of us will be able to perform acrobatics again, just like the old days. In the meantime, I just have to be patient and get enough money to pay for his medicine."
You mean work yourself to the bone, Soujirou thought bitterly. No one had extended a helping hand to the six year old boy. Instead, the shop owners who hired Miyoshi were only too eager to take advantage of the boy's desperation, making him work like a slave and paying him so little that Miyoshi had taken to digging for roots in the forest to feed himself in a bid to save enough money to pay for his Otou-san's next dose of medicine. More often than not, Soujirou knew, Miyoshi went without any food: he was simply too exhausted, having to take care of his father after his long day at work.
Suddenly remembering, Soujiro dug into the folds of his yukata and unearthed something wrapped in a brown cloth. "I almost forgot! Miyoshi, this is for you!"
Miyoshi stared in bafflement at the brown lump thrust into his hands, then he lifted the cloth. He gasped in surprise as he stared at the misshapen contents.
"Gomen, Miyoshi." Soujiro said in embarrassment. "It's supposed to be a bean paste bun, but it must have gotten squashed during the scuffle just now. But I am sure it tastes good."
For a moment Miyoshi was silent, then a torrent of tears flowed down his cheeks as he whispered gratefully, "Arigato, Soujirou."
Soujirou felt a sting in his own eyes, quickly masking it with a bright smile, he said lightly: "Neh, eat it already! Otherwise I would think that you don't like it or something."
Eyes widening, Miyoshi said anxiously, "Nya! Of course not, Soujirou! How can you even think that?"
"Then eat it! Don't worry, I have had my share."
Assured, Miyoshi bit into the bun carefully and slowly, savoring the sweetness of the bean paste and the almost forgotten sensation of having something filling in his stomach.
Soujirou smiled at his friend's enjoyment. I am going to get a severe beating and probably no food for the next couple of weeks for stealing that bun, but it's worth it. I haven't seen Miyoshi so happy for a long time. Feeling the tension ease from his body, Soujirou lay on the ground and stared at the endless blue sky. I want to get stronger. I don't want to be bullied anymore. I want to protect the people I treasure.
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Late 1980s, Tokyo, Fuji Residence
"Syusuke, I know you are not hungry, but come down for some soup at least." Yumiko stood at the doorway, her arms crossed as she tried to persuade her brother who was buried under his thick blanket.
"Sumimasen, Nee-san. I'm really tired, I just want to sleep." Fuji's voice was muffled.
After a while, Yumiko sighed and left Fuji in peace. Although her brother was just nine, he had a stubborn streak that was a mile long: she knew it was futile to try and make him change his mind.
As the bedroom door clicked shut, Fuji slowly turned onto his back and stared into the darkness, his mind running through the events that transpired earlier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kurata had driven Fuji and Eiji home after Fuji regained his consciousness. Eiji, though initially worried and upset, had bounced back with amazing resilience and was chattering enthusiastically in Kurata's car.
"Nya, Fuji! You really frightened me for a while there. I was so shocked that I didn't even duck when the broken shinai came flying at me!" Unconsciously, Eiji's fingers traced the small, white plaster on his right cheek.
"Gomen, Eiji. I really don't know what happened..." Fuji's throat felt tight with guilt.
"Unnya! It's nothing! But you were really kakkoi! I can't believe you know all those moves! You are even better than the samurais that I have seen on TV! You totally thrashed Oda-san and Ashihei-san, and they are almost twice your age and twice your size!" Eiji's eyes glowed with something akin to hero-worship. "Nya! You should take up kendo, Fuji! You'll beat everyone else easily! You'll be known as the nine year old tensai!"
"I don't want to ever talk about this again, Eiji. I will not step into a dojo again." Fuji's voice was like ice.
"Nya, Fuji! Why not?" Eiji protested loudly.
"Eiji-kun, you should respect your friend's wishes." Kurata said quietly. Stealing a covert glance at Fuji's implacable profile, Kurata continued, "Eiji-kun, one must know when to push and when to stop. I think Fuji-kun is very determined, it's better if you stop pushing. Even if you try to persuade him further, your efforts will only go down the drain."
"Nya, Fuji, is what Kurata-san say true?" Seeing his friend's silent nod, Eiji sighed with disappointment. "Unnya, this is not fun."
Kurata looked briefly at Fuji again before turning his concentration back to driving. He had taught kendo for almost thirty years and he had never been as shocked and scared as he was today. Had Fuji been physically stronger and had Fuji not woken up from his apparent trance, Kurata knew without a doubt that even with all their protective dogu, Ashihei and Oda would be dead or seriously injured by now.
On one hand it was a waste that Fuji, with his prodigious talent was not going to take up kendo. On the other hand, with his unfathomable strength, Fuji Syusuke would crush and destroy his opponents in the blink of an eye. Kurata's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Yes, perhaps it was fortuitous that Fuji had chosen not to take up kendo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fuji's eyelids drooped as fatigue finally overtook his body and he drifted into a troubled sleep...
Where am I? Fuji thought as he wondered through the unfamiliar compound. I thought I was sleeping at home. He looked at the trees, stripped bare of their leaves, their wizened branches reaching out into the skies. It's the wrong season. Then realization struck: I am in a dream. I wonder what sort of dream this is going to be?
There was a sudden flurry of activity as men ran towards the courtyard. What's happening? For a moment, Fuji hesitated but curiosity overtook his reservations: Maa, this is a only dream! It can't hurt me to see what's going on!
The courtyard was dim, illuminated only by the waning moon. The scant moonlight cast a ghastly grey sheen on everything, leaching the surroundings of their colors. The men were congregated around the courtyard, all stationary and silent. Yet that was a tension in the air, a sense of barely leashed anticipation, so acute that Fuji could taste it in his mouth: an acrid, copperish flavour.
Then he realized that all the men were waiting to attack: each of the men had one hand resting on the saya and the other poised upon the tsuka of his katana.
Suddenly a clear voice rang out: "Leave him with me. Go back to your duties."
The men broke into furious murmurings; several protested: "But Okita-san, he broke into here! We can't..."
"I said leave him with me." The voice was arctic. "I will answer personally to Hijikata-san."
"Okita-san..."
"Those who question me further will get a reply from my katana." The voice was devoid of any inflection, but the threat was evident.
The men looked briefly at each other, and then emptied quickly from the courtyard, leaving two solitary figures in the centre.
Free of obstruction, Fuji could clearly discern the person who stood, facing his direction. His heart started to pound. Eiji!
Iie. It's not Eiji. Fuji corrected himself mentally. Not Eiji, but a youth, barely into his twenties, clad in all black. Yet Fuji could not deny the remarkable resemblance: the youth's hair was darker, a deep burgundy instead of Eiji's rich russet; his jaw squarer and face leaner, but the curve of his lips and the tilt of his brows were the same. And his eyes: his eyes were the deep lapis lazuli blue of Eiji's. This is how Eiji will look like in a decade's time, Fuji thought silently.
"You shouldn't have came here." It was the cold voice again.
It came from the figure whose back was facing Fuji. He was clad in a light blue haori; even under the pale moonlight, the white mountain-shaped stripes on his sleeves were distinct.
The hairs on the back of Fuji's neck rose as the youth's lips twisted into a caricature of a smile.
"Oh, but I had to come, Okita-san." The youth drawled. "I have to pay you back for what you did to Yamanami-san."
"Yamanami betrayed the Shinsengumi. As a result, he committed seppuku." Okita answered calmly.
"Iie! Yamanami was as honourable as a man could come. He didn't kill himself willingly! You murdered him, Okita Souji." The youth's eyes glittered with fury.
"He ran away from the Shinsengumi and broke our laws. He knew what the outcome of his actions was going to be."
"He ran away because he couldn't take the bloodshed and violence anymore. He ran away because he was a gentle and kind person." The youth's voice broke in anguish. "He ran away because he wanted to lead a peaceful life with me!"
"I..." Okita started.
"Did you know that we were going to leave Kyoto? That night when you captured him, I was buying the tickets for the steamship leaving here. I was so happy, so ecstatic when I got them and was running all the way back to the inn. I waited and waited for him, but he never showed up. It was only when I went searching for him in the streets that I found out what happened." Hot tears flowed as the youth screamed. "You killed the man I love, Okita Souji!"
"Miyoshi..."
"I am here to kill you tonight, Okita Souji." Miyoshi's tears had stopped.
"Miyoshi, yame! I don't want ..."
But the choice was taken out of Okita's hands as shurikens flew in quick succession at him.
Fuji stood, transfixed as the two figures fought: it was almost like an intricate dance, with Miyoshi darting and flying about like a butterfly while Okita was like the leaves in the wind, swirling and weaving about gracefully. But it was a deadly performance as shurikens hurtled through the air, and katana flashed in the light.
Suddenly everything became deathly still.
Miyoshi smiled slowly.
"Iie... Doushite, Miyoshi? Doushite?" Okita whispered. Miyoshi's knees gave way as he crumpled into Okita's arms.
"Doushite? You could have easily evaded that thrust."
Miyoshi looked down at the katana that was buried in his stomach; a sliver of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He chuckled hollowly, "I wanted to die." He stared at Okita. "The day I heard that Yamanami died, I lost all will to live. He would have wanted me to live on and be strong, but I can't. Not without him. Since Yamanami would have never allowed me to kill myself, I decided to let you kill me instead. Gomen... "
Miyoshi coughed violently as more blood welled from his mouth. Okita's head was bent as he looked at his dying friend. "Miyoshi..."
"Soujirou," Miyoshi's voice was fading into whisper as his life ebbed from his body.
Okita's jaws clenched at hearing his friend call out his childhood name.
"Soujirou, do you know that you are dying?" Miyoshi looked at his grieving friend. Okita stiffened in shock; Miyoshi smiled sadly. "You try to hide behind a smile, but I have seen the way you look at him, the yearning and suffering in your eyes...Everyday, every passing second, you die bit by bit, knowing that he can't give you what you long for. Knowing that he can't love you the way you love him."
"Perhaps I am the luckier one, dying this way. Perhaps this is why I can't hate you even after what happened to Yamanami." The light in Miyoshi's eyes faded.
Fuji stood rooted at his spot. Run! His mind screamed at him. But his legs were paralyzed.
Gently, Okita laid his friend's lifeless body onto the ground, then he lifted his head. For the first time, Fuji looked into Okita's face.
The same face, the same eyes. The same soul. Fuji was looking at himself.
"We belong to the darkness." Okita whispered.
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*cough* I think amirynn-san and a number of people want my head to roll right now. Ano...these 3 chapters are actually background chapters, so the actual story hasn't really started. *sweatdrops* oh boy...
Suke-san: Hoi! Bokken is a wooden sword, Shinai is made of bamboo. ^^
Yamanami Seisuke (1835-1864) Gochou (Corporal) of Shinsengumi. A gentle, honest man, he was one of the earliest members; he was labeled a traitor after he escaped from the Shinsengumi. He was caught by Okita and sentenced to commit seppuku by Hijikata.
Miyoshi Isa (1844-1864) Fictitious character. Childhood friend of Soujirou. His mother died when he was born and since then he and his father depended on one another, earning their living as acrobats. Separated from Soujirou when they were both eight. Both met again when they were adults. [there's more on Miyoshi and his identity, but that will come later]
Otou-san Father
Yukata Cotton kimono
Katana Samurai sword
Saya Sheath of Katana
Tsuka Handle of Katana
Haori Japanese half coat
Shuriken Throwing blade used by Shinobi
seppuku AKA hara-kiri. Ritual suicide developed as an integral part of the code of bushido and the discipline of the samurai warrior class.
Iie No
Doushite Why