Blurbs: In the bloom of Cherry Blossom under the sun of spring, Seta Soujirou escorts a child to the Kamiya Dojo, life is about to get very interesting, and not necessarily in a bad way.
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and subsequent characters belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki. Steal my characters without my permission and die
Timeline: Spring, 1882—Meiji year 13; PostJinchuu (No, I don't know when the Meiji year starts or whatnot, this is just estimated through the birth dates)
Beta: Khori Bannefin and Bloodedwyngs
02: Shifting Sands
"Keiji?" Orgulla tried to repress the wave of panic that had set in when the boy in her care was not where he was supposed to be. She reasoned that he might have fallen asleep—but reasoning had failed to assure her. The boy could be as unpredictable as his parents sometimes.
A half an hour later, she was tearing through the Palace Ground, and every able-bodied person had been drafted on searching along with her. An hour saw a citywide search being carried out. Three hours later, the country's advisors were trying to soothe a very frantic Queen and help her compose a letter to a missing boy's mother while search parties left the city for a nationwide alarm.
Orgulla's fingers shook around her pen as she slowly wrote out her letter, lashes trembling with tears. Where did he gone off…? Is he alright? Please let him be alright, I beg whatever is listening in heaven…
The boy they were so frantically searching for, meanwhile, materialized under the cover of ancient trees in Nara, and shook his head in barely concealed disgust. "Stupid translocation spell… I aim for Tokyo and it dropped me here…? See if I ever try it again."
Looking around, he stood silently for a moment, head tilted slightly, trying to calculate the map he had memorized in his head. Lifting his fingers, he tried to match the location of map and reality to find the road to Tokyo. Then he nodded, finding where he was, picked up his baggage and started walking. "I'm sorry Aunt Orgulla."
It would take days to get to Tokyo from here, but he was hopeful that he could get there under a week's time, as long as he don't get delayed by any—
Keiji blinked uncomprehendingly at the body thrown in front of him and looked up to see a full-out brawl in the middle of the street. He blinked again.
"What'cha looking at, stupid brat?!"
He gulped as the fallen man regained his feet and glared at him. He was preparing to run when someone picked him up like he was a puppy and the world blurred. He sighed and allowed himself to fall limp within the hold; the speed was making him dizzy.
"Saa, This one will… be back soon." The rurouni said softly, lingering in their goodbye.
Kaoru nodded, hands primly held one atop another in front of her blue, white butterfly-patterned komon. "I shall be waiting."
"Un."
"Oh, come on, aren't you two finished with your goodbyes yet?" Sano interrupted crossly, arms behind his head. "Don't worry, jou-chan, I'll make sure he comes home in one piece, so can we get going now?"
"No one is stopping you, Sano," Kaoru replied dryly, turning to Kenshin. "Make sure he behaves, doesn't pick a fight that will require him to get out of the country, or gamble away all your supply money." Ignoring the gangster's spluttering protest, she continued, "Be careful, and come back safe. I'll be waiting."
"Hai, Kaoru-dono, Ittekimasu." The rurouni bowed before turning around and leaving with a grumbling Sano. Kaoru watched them walk away until they disappeared around the bend before coming back inside, slowly closing the dojo's door.
A bird flew by and landed by the porch, but it wasn't a bird.
Kamidori(1)? They don't usually use a kamidori to send messages unless something important and terribly urgent happened. So could it mean…
Brow furrowing, she reached for the crane origami, frowning even further as she noticed the wrinkled folding, as if the folder was very weak, or trembling. That was an even worse indicator of what news could have been enfolded within the letter. It was wet, the moisture slightly saline; whoever had been writing it had been crying. The seal of the Mist Sea Kingdom at the lower end amplified her worry, and the personal seal of the Ruling Queen resulted in enough haste in unfolding the origami Kaoru nearly tore the letter, so great was her haste to know why the letter had been sent in such haste.
Quickly scanning the content, her eyes widened, and her heartbeat double-timed until it skipped a few beats for a couple of seconds into a blinding white pain. Then she forced herself to take a deep breath, letter scrunched among her fingers. Eyes wide, she panted and took a moment to regulate her pulse.
Her son was missing.
Keiji scrunched his face at the smell of burnt rabbit before he blinked his eyes open…
—And blinked again as his eyes focused on the young man sitting in front of the fire, smiling into nothing.
What is he—
Realization derailed that train of thought before he could finish it. Confusion loomed behind the screen of that smile; this was a man lost in life, unknowing the shores it's waves brought him to. Keiji could not say he sympathized, considering that to sympathize in the first place you need to know what it feels like. Keiji had never been lost.
Youth did not mean innocence. An empathic onmyouji can't help but hear things, some of which they would rather not hear, ever, if only there was an on/off switch on their spirit ears.
Next one who says anything about needing better hearing will get a thrashing.
"Mou!"
The young man lifted his head, surprise chasing away his smile and bright but cloudy eyes blinked at the boy before the fox smile come crashing down.
Fox smile, the smile that hides your eyes and your feelings, this man before Keiji had been trapped within his own mask for a long, long time that even freed of it he clung to the shards, seeking familiarity. Armour against the cold, cold north wind called the world at large and humanity.
"You're awake!" the young man said brightly, smiling wide.
Keiji blinked. "Anoo… doesn't that hurt?"
"What?" The young man blinked as well, befuddled.
"Smiling like that. Doesn't that hurt?"
Surprise washed across that gamin feature. "W-well…" He rubbed the back of his head in a somewhat unfocused manner.
Taking pity on the young man, Keiji deliberately changed the topic, "Anyway, you're very fast, nii-chan. What's your name?"
He was rewarded with a couple of blinks. Man, this nii-chan has to learn to find his way soon, before he stepped onto something he shouldn't. Though all that befuddlement was undeniably cute. The 'aww-I-wanna-pinch' cute.
"Seta Soujirou."
Keiji cocked his head slightly. Seta Soujirou, the Tenken. His mother had sent letters to update both Orgulla and him on what had been happening around the dojo and its' inhabitants. The JuponGatana had been one of the more interesting topics and Keiji had done some research. It didn't surprise him too much; his okaa-sama had decided, after hearing what Himura-san, Sagara-san, and the surviving JuponGatana she met could say about Tenken, that she should not hate someone who could only be described as 'lost'.
And indeed, the Seta-nii was as lost as an abandoned puppy.
Keiji wanted to help him. It was not something anyone taught him to do, nor did he do it out of a sense of right or wrong. He simply very much thought that this young man deserved a little advice about what he might find for himself down the way—years later, perhaps—a bit earlier; then he could start living again.
"My name is Keiji! Nice to meet you, Seta-nii!"
The young man blinked again. "Please, call me Soujirou."
"Sou-nii, then!" Young children chirps, so Keiji chirped, the key to good disguise was to constantly maintain the facade.
"Aa.." A couple more blink. "If you feel better, Keiji-kun, why don't we go to find your parents?"
Keiji snickered inwardly as he turned huge, pleading eyes on the young man. "Otou-sama is gone, so Keiji has to find Okaa-sama in Tokyo," he said in his best childish voice. "But Keiji doesn't quite know where to go! Can Sou-nii help Keiji find Okaa-sama?"
The smile turned up again, but this time it was a little strained at the edge. "Keiji-kun, I don't think that is such a good idea…"
"Please?" Keiji let his eyes widened, "Or does Sou-nii have other plans already? Keiji wouldn't want to impose if that is the case."
A gulp, ha, time to close the trap. "N-no, but—"
"Please?"
Seta Soujirou stared helplessly at the pleading face in front of him and finally nodded, hesitantly.
Inwardly, Keiji smiled. Score. Then he launched himself forward, laughing, and hugging the year-old rurouni. "Yatta! Arigato de gozaimashita, Sou-nii!"
And when he heard Soujirou's startled laugh and felt his hug hesitantly returned, he grinned triumphantly. Keiji was much like his father when it comes to doing things.
They have absolutely no compunction against using any and all weaknesses they can put their sneaky fingers on. Honour? What honour? No, sirrah, no time for anything like that, now how would you like to fall off your throne?
When Yahiko found Kaoru she was staring emptily at the yard, a steaming pot of tea sitting beside her on the engawa. Her poise was rigid the way it had never been. As much as Yahiko shouted that Kaoru was a hag, she was not; she normally had an easy grace, changed now into a stunning elegance, but never this rigid tenseness.
"Kaoru?" he asked, and when Kaoru turned her head to him he very nearly had a heart attack.
What put that horrified dusk in her eyes? Kaoru's eyes were the colour of solid night, empty, shuttered, deeply… worried?
Not able to meet her eyes any longer, he lowered his own, and set upon her hands. Those fine, sword-callused hands were clenched white around a yunomi(2) and trembled lightly.
"What's wrong, Kaoru? Is it Kenshin? You shouldn't…" worry so much, Kenshin can take care of himself. But the words would not leave his throat, and he knew enough, by now, that that was not really true anyway. Between the deterioration of Kenshin's body because of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu Ougi and the man's natural penchant to attract trouble, there was no telling what might happen to him.
And it's not like Kenshin doesn't have enemies; he had plenty happy to rip him apart.
But Kaoru had never been like this before, not even when Kenshin went to Kyoto that first time… Or, Yahiko thought with sinking feeling, maybe she had, just not in front of her only student.
Kaoru shifted, "It's not Kenshin."
Yahiko's eyes snapped back to her face. "Not Kenshin?" he parroted. Who else but Kenshin would get her in such a state?
His sensei—thought his pride would never let him call her that to her face—took a deep, shaking breath. Her hands clenched tighter around the yunomi and it cracked before she forced her fingers to relax. "My son."
Yahiko blinked. Did he hear…?
"Son?" he parroted again. Kaoru… had a son?
Kaoru had a son?
He blinked again, trying to register her words to his brain.
Kaoru had a son?
Kaoru had a son!
"Your… s-son?" the proud Tokyo Samurai finally stuttered.
Another shaking breath; Kaoru put aside her yunomi and stood. "My son is missing."
Oh, that was too much. Kaoru had a son. His sensei had a son.
Yahiko's vision turned black.
Seta Soujirou really was not sure what he was doing when he agreed to escort a child from Kyoto to Tokyo. But, seeing the little boy skipping along beside him he knew well why he did. Anything could happen to a single child on a journey like this, and Soujirou couldn't, in what conscience he had, let that happen.
Keiji-kun was a sweet boy; they had no money to go by train, and Soujirou was wary to trust any other method of transportation that was not his own feet, so they walked, but the boy didn't protest.
Frowning, Soujirou studied the boy beside him from the corner of his eyes. The dark green kimono and earth-brown hakama the child wore were plain, but well made enough that this could be the son of a well-to-do family. There was a shinai slung on his back, well worn, but of good quality. The straw hat hanging over the shinai seemed to be to hide the shinai more than for any other purpose.
It was an interesting collection of ensemble; the boy looked too shabby for robbers to bother with at first glance, and if he were older, Soujirou would have concluded that the apparent shabbiness was completely intentional. But Keiji was young, and no one of their right mind would have sent a child on such a long journey alone, so could the appearance be mere coincidence?
Keiji-kun had the making of a swordsman, apparent in his graceful gait and posture, and Soujirou was curious to see how well the child handled the shinai.
Wide eyes met his own, and the child giggled. "Is there something on Keiji's face, Sou-nii?"
Cute. "How long have you been practicing with that shinai?"
Another glass-bell giggle. "Keiji had been learning since his fourth birthday!"
Soujirou was taken aback; that was quite an early start. "Do you like learning the swords?" Truthfully, he didn't know why he was so curious. But this boy would one day be a dangerous adversary, given the chance, and Soujirou was curious to see him bloom.
"Un! Keiji likes learning," the boy nodded happily. "Aunt Orgulla said if Keiji practices diligently, Keiji can be as good as Otou-sama one day!"
So Keiji-kun admires his father. Soujirou's mouth curved in a real smile. He wondered what kind of man Keiji-kun's father was like. Stern? Kind? Tall? If he was anything like Keiji-kun, then Soujirou was very sorry to have missed the opportunity to meet him.
His smile disappeared for a while. Or maybe he shouldn't. Keiji-kun was a very, very sharp young boy. Soujirou had a feeling that his smile hadn't fooled the boy much.
Smiling like that. Doesn't that hurt?
Or, perhaps, he had not fooled the boy at all. Soujirou had heard that some children were in fact harder to trick than adults, but he hadn't met one as such. He had a feeling that this would be a most singular experience.
Keiji-kun was neither fooled by his smiles nor fake cheerfulness. He had also changed the subject for Soujirou's benefit rather than pure shift of attention. There was a slight look, sometimes, when Keiji-kun wasn't aware that he was watched, that spoke of someone older than they should be.
Keiji-kun also had a vocabulary well beyond his years, the main reason why Soujirou most certainly didn't believe him when the boy said he didn't know his own family name. Why the child kept his family name a secret the ex-JupponGatana couldn't fathom. Still, maybe he could learn something from this journey.
Tokyo… Himura-san was in Tokyo too, wasn't he? Maybe he would not mind so much if Soujirou dropped in for a visit.
When Yahiko came to, he sat up on his own futon, in the room assigned to him in the Kamiya dojo. The sky had darkened outside, and in a moment of disorientation he wondered just what had put him in bed.
Then he remembered his strange conversation with Kaoru, and tore off to look for her.
He wanted an explanation.
Yahiko found her in the dojo, in hakama and gi and absently working through an unfamiliar kata He sat, admiring the controlled power and precision in her movement. Kenshin might have thought he didn't notice, but Kaoru seemed to suddenly remember a lot more to the Kamiya's sword style than she did previously. Those unfamiliar ones Yahiko tried his best to analyse and learn, but so far he fell short.
It frustrated him.
But he would not ask; something told him that this, Kaoru would not teach him. It baffled him that he could think so, being her first apprentice and successor and all. Logic said that Kaoru would eventually hand down everything of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu to him, but Instinct whispered the uneasy thought that Logic were operating on too many assumptions, and that it was for his own good that Kaoru did not teach him.
At least, not as he was.
Yahiko held hope that he would eventually be worthy to learn. Until he heard about Kaoru's son.
His mood took a downturn. In the end, Yahiko was not a Kamiya, and what could he do about it? His bloodline was not something he could control; It's not like babies have leave to choose what family they would like to be born into.
"There is a reason I don't teach you this, Yahiko."
His head snapped up to meet stormy cobalt eyes, streaked with lightning. "There is?"
Kaoru nodded, her lips twisting in a half smile. "This is not Kasshin Ryuu."
All thought screeched to a halt. "It's not?" Yahiko croaked. "But it's still a Kamiya sword style, right? I'm sure it is."
"Indeed?" There was a quirk in her half-smile that bespoke amusement. "You can say it is the predecessor of Kasshin. But it is never taught outside," she paused, "and real swords—good swords—are never easy to come by, especially now in the Meiji."
Kasshin Ryuu was a style that utilized the weight and bluntness of shinai and bokken(3) in comparison of real sword, and to actually effectively use it with a real sword, even Kenshin's sakabatou(4) would take quite a bit of intense conversion practice.
"But Kasshin is very old, right? You said that yourself that people only think your father developed it because he was the one who started teaching it to the public." Yahiko croaked again, mind whirling.
"Predecessor is not the right word," Kaoru mused. "This is not common knowledge, but Kamiya's sword style is a triple style, two of which is non-lethal. One is Kasshin, and as you know, it is a style created to take advantage of blunt weapon. What you saw me performing is the other non-lethal style; it is a style that uses a real sword."
"What?"
"Specifically, it is designed to take advantage of a blade like the sakabatou. Two edges, a choice: but the blunt edge is prevalent."
Yahiko's mouth dropped open and his eyes bulged. "Sakabatou Like Kenshin's sakabatou?"
"Like a sakabatou, I did not say that it is. I told you it is non-lethal, as much as it can get away with. You can, despite popular belief, kill with a sakabatou. Now, the third style… uses katana(5), but that is a style that is history. No one had managed to learn it in hundreds of year, so if you're asking me to teach you, you might as well go make a stone talk."
Yahiko nodded dazedly. "Alright, I get it. Never ask about the style for the katana. I'll keep them in mind."
Kaoru smiled and rotated her sword arm, easily spinning her suburito(6) between her fingers. "You shouldn't ask about the Kirigami either. Kasshin is enough for you, and by the way you keep asking me for techniques before you completely mastered the last one tells me that you have no patience to be able to learn Kirigami. Not without killing yourself first."
Yahiko ducked his head, blush staining his cheeks.
"If you can master Kasshin, that is enough to make you a very good swordsman. I know that sometimes you think it's weak and you'd much rather learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu—"
"That's not true!" Yahiko protested.
"Oh, really?"
The boy nodded frantically. "Protecting is a much harder thing to do compared to killing."
"Did Kenshin tell you that?"
Yahiko spluttered. "Hey! Couldn't I have come up with it on my own?" he lamented. "I know that I'm still an immature brat, but I'm trying to grow up fast so I—"
Kaoru smiled and dropped her hand on the kneeling boy's hair. "Don't be in such a hurry." She murmured. "That if you can be a child a little longer is a blessing. We adults all want to go back to our childhood; ask Kenshin if you don't believe me. Children are immortal, adults are not." She smiled gently, but inscrutably.
"But—"
"I know that you were wondering about being the successor of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu. That has not changed. Keiji will come home, but he will always be his father's successor, whether or not he learns Kamiya's triple style. When I'm gone, I expect you to hand down the teachings of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu to the next generation. You understand what I'm trusting you with, don't you?"
"Yes." Yahiko gulped. Not only did she trust him with the techniques; she trusted him to keep and hand down her family's principle, teaching, and philosophy. It was a surprisingly heavy responsibility, now that it was finally said out loud.
"Good."
Yahiko sat back on his heels. "Kaoru?" Now, or never. He knew there would be other chances to ask. But he might as well ask now.
"Mm?"
"You never told us you have a son." There, he said it; thought it was so rushed it was almost garbled.
Stormy eyes regarded him for a moment before turning away, Kaoru taking a pose for another kata. "None of you asked. If you take it for granted that I have no other family, well, that is not my problem, is it?"
No, he supposed that it wasn't.
"Besides, it's not a topic that normally comes up in a conversation. As much fun as it would be to see Kenshin and Sano gaping with their mouths open, it's not something that someone can just bring out of the blue."
"That's true." Yahiko allowed, a bit distracted by the graceful, rotating uppercut she performed. "Can I be there when you tell Kenshin and Sano?"
"Why not?"
The boy grinned, leaning forward and following the suburito as it switched direction mid swing. "What's he like?"
"Keiji? Precocious." Kaoru half-turned, a measured slash to her right. "Sometimes, I feel cheated. Half of being a parent is to guide, to raise, to answer embarrassing questions. Keiji was born mature. He didn't need to ever be told what casual cruelty is, what kindness is. In his shadow, I see an old man who had lived a full life. Whoever was rinsing the memory of his last cycle of life before Keiji's birth must have done a botched job."
Yahiko absorbed all this with a slight frown. "Why isn't he here?"
Kaoru stopped. She turned toward him and for the first time, Yahiko saw the tormented guilt and troubled sorrow plainly in his sensei's eyes.
"Something happened, and I was not reacting very well to it."
So… so, so, so…
There was a husband to mourn.
Kaoru turned back and restarted her kata. "My best friend took him in when it became clear that I was not in a fit condition to raise a child."
Slash-duck-pivot-thrust. Yahiko winced; that last hit would hurt a lot if it connects. "How old is Keiji?"
"He was born in autumn, in Hazuki(7)… That means about four-and-a-half years old. My friend Orgulla started him on the basics of swordsmanship after his last birthday. She said…" Kaoru's last swing was slow, almost lazy as it pulled back, but Yahiko felt the wind rush across his face as she thrust forward in a lunge, the rice paper of the shoji crackled as it was blown backward slightly.
"She said?" he prompted as Kaoru straightened, signalling the end of her kata.
"She said he was doing very well. He is very conscientious in working his swings—she told me he undertook himself to do a thousand swings a day, on top of everything. And he was good; from what she watched, she said his stance and posture is perfect, and most of the time, he didn't have to think to be able to do a perfect swing."
Yahiko whistled in admiration. "I would love to see that. Are you sure your friend is not exaggerating?"
Kaoru huffed a laugh. "Orgulla? She refers to typhoons as 'troublesome breezes'; trust me when I say that she does not exaggerate. Besides, she has an excellent eye for talents and swordsmanship, and herself is an opponent I would not want to face seriously in battle if there were something critical in the outcome. I would like to see just how much she didn't say…"
Any trace of humour disappeared from her face, and when she suddenly turned away to bow to the principles and promptly left the dojo, Yahiko couldn't blame her for cutting their conversation short.
Her son was missing, and it seems without a trace. What mother would be in a mood to banter?
His face was unusually pensive as he watched the child happily cooing at the colourful puppet. She watched him watch their son, studying the carefully blank expression.
"Frown harder, you'll get a wrinkle soon enough."
He looked up to meet her eyes, murky brown eyes lightening into sun-drenched autumn forest. The little boy noticed them and crawled over, cooing. She caught the baby and spun him around once, before settling the happily giggling child against her.
"He's too young." The man watching them said slowly, carefully. "Too young to be so aware. He forms complete thoughts, do you notice?" He talked directly to her mind, and in confusion, she followed his mode of communication.
She turned startled eyes toward him. "I did, but I didn't think much of it." Her eyes darkened slightly as she bounced the baby in her arms, earning baby laughter.
"Neither of us started forming complete thoughts until we were at least two years old. He's not even a year old yet." He turned away slightly, looking up at the ceiling. Then he turned toward the yard and something caught his eyes. Contemplatively, he looked at the child in her arms. "Wait here."
She followed his retreating figure into the yard, where he stood still for a moment before quickly catching something in his fist.
She gave a questioning tilt of her head when he returned, but he didn't answer her. "Keiji," he called out teasingly. The baby turned curious tiger-eyes toward him, suckling on a thumb. The man brought up his fist and slowly unfurled it. On his palm lay an unmoving, colourful butterfly.
She felt the tiny body in her arms go rigid, and looked down abruptly. "He's… upset."
The butterfly looked dead, but a moment later, it fluttered, as if waking, then lazily flapped its wings. It flew away, unharmed, back out the open shoji. Keiji's distress faded away, and he cuddled against her sleepily.
"I thought so. He understood so clearly, there's no mistaking it." She turned dark eyes toward him, to find his eyes once again murky ground.
Biting her lips, she forced herself not to tense. "Do you think it's because of…"
"No." he replied with utter certainty. "No, Shidou-sama would have said something if it was a possibility. No, I'm quite sure it wasn't that."
They were silent. A cricket chirped and the wind chime tinkled in the slight breeze. The sun disappeared behind a thin cloud, surveying the world through a slight haze. She ran a distracted hand across the tiny back of the child sleeping against her.
"It doesn't matter."
He smiled at her. "No, it doesn't matter. He's our child, and nothing could change that."
The spring thunder
suddenly cleaves the sky,
startling the sleeping man.
Author Note: (Might be spoilerific)
-Keiji might sound a little unrealistic, but the point is, he was not supposed to be. While I'm trying to not make God-characters (and he won't be), Keiji does cheats in that direction. Trying to mix different blend of power can be a headache.
-On another note, I'm known to be cruel to my characters. Things won't end… erm… too happily.
-On the Kamiya triple sword styles, I'm finding it a tad difficult to actually come up with something believable—it might have been easier had I a background in swordsmanship or just plain martial arts, but the fact is I don't. And if not for the fact that I need none of that for this "Spring" part of the series, I would have killed the story early. In fact, this is one of the hold-up on the sequel. That, and the fact that I could not write fight scenes.
-People tells me that I get too caught up in details… I wonder if that makes me a bad writer
1 Kamidori -- paper bird. For reference, this is usually messenger bird, though sometimes it could be used as weapon (ala Sumeragi Subaru from Tokyo Babylon/X-1999)
2 Yunomi – basic Japanese teacup, which usually is made under tsutsugata-shape, and looks like handle-less mugs instead.
3 Bokken – wooden sword, also called bokuto. They are heavier than an actual blade, which emphasises the delicacy of the real blades—used mostly for practices, but Kaoru fights with them.
4 Sakabatou -- reverse-blade katana, no, this did not actually exist before Nobuhiro Watsuki invent them. I'm taking poetic license—don't sue me.
5 Katana – Japanese curved, one-edged sword, usually about 70 cm in length, usually those that were worn blade-up through the belt-sash
6 Suburito – intentionally heavier bokken, made for kata-practice (suburi single cutting). Due to its' weight, it's not suitable for sparring practice because it's kind of off-balance and instantly a disadvantage.
7 Hazuki—September 8 to October 7. Kenshin and Kaoru were both born in Satsuki, in summer. The Japanese used to use the lunar calendar instead of the Gregorian and they have thirteen months, so while Satsuki refers to the fifth month, it is actually June in Gregorian calendar.