Chapter 4: If You Really Don't Want Something To Happen, You Should Stop Thinking About It
There sure was an awful amount of noise outside, considering the time of day. A few distant shouts here and there were not out of the ordinary, but there were far more than usual, and the people walking by the shop seemed to all be preoccupied. Was there something happening?
Well, there was always something happening. That was really a pointless question to ask.
For a minute or two, even as she heard sirens passing by, Ikumatsu ignored the disturbance. But as she put away the last of the freshly-cleaned dishes and found there was nothing else she could do but wait anyway, she simply had to wander outside. Maybe she could persuade some of the passersby to come in for an early dinner.
But as she closed the door behind her, Ikumatsu caught the stench of smoke on the breeze.
The smoke seemed only to be lingering in trace amounts, but a crowd had gathered, blocking the sidewalk only a few blocks down the street; she could see a few police officers trying to get them under control, and the fire truck that had been the source of the siren, but those Shinsengumi did not seem to have arrived yet. If indeed they would be arriving at all. She could be wrong yet. Maybe it had just been a cooking fire – that building the people seemed to be gathered around was a reasonably new Amanto restaurant.
It was just a commotion of some sort, and commotion was something Ikumatsu could overlook; she'd let so many troublesome things into her life already that she didn't exactly feel compelled to seek out more of them.
Incidents in this part of town were common enough that she could only sigh and shake her head as she heard people talking, and carry on. Perhaps she'd offer a comment or two if a customer mentioned it, just to play her role. Generic sorts of things to say, as far as she was concerned. There wasn't another war coming, what they were calling terrorists were nothing more than petty criminals pretending to be greater than they were, the only lasting threat was to people's peace of mind.
Her peace of mind in particular, it seemed. No one who ever brought up these goings-on to her had lost anything more than some time, having to take a different route or push through crowds or endure questioning. They didn't have a right to talk, she wanted to tell them, but she chatted idly nonetheless.
Today, she was faced with something more real than a vague conversation – for some horrible, unfathomable reason, she did not turn around and return to her shop. No, she walked steadily over to where the people were gathered. She kept her face blank, folding her arms over her chest as she came to a stop, as close as she could get, staring up at the building. It seemed only slightly blackened, the fire having been put out quickly.
Of course, she couldn't see much other than that from here. But neither could most of the people around – they were just drawn in by the excitement, weren't they? Like a flock of crows, or flies, even. A few of them appeared startled or somewhat sad, but for the most part they were not too terribly concerned by what had happened. They were only here to feed off the excitement of the incident.
She could hear them talking already: "Hey, did you see what happened?" Whispers that passed through the crowd, not searching so much for an answer as for something to start gossip about. To turn it into a story of some sort.
"Sorry, man, I got here too late. I was hoping you'd know!"
"I'll bet it's those good-for-nothing teenage delinquents."
"They're arsonists now, too?"
"They are willing to commit every crime imaginable. Don't underestimate them."
"When you go talking like that, it makes you sound like you're one of them!"
"Says the guy who acts like a terrorist."
"Tell me, what's going on?"
"Hey, if I were a terrorist out to destroy that place, I would've blown it up completely, not just lit a little fire while no one was even in there."
"So who do you think did this?"
"Another terrorist attack?"
The conversations within the crowd blended into a collective sort of murmur, but she could pick out a few voices nonetheless – and with every word she heard, she wished more strongly that she couldn't.
"What's that? Terrorists? Here?"
"What has this country come to?"
"At the least, it doesn't seem like anyone got hurt."
"Even if they did, it only would've been some Amanto, right?"
"Don't tell me you're supporting the Joui now?"
"They're a bit extreme, but I think they've got a point..."
Before she knew it, she was running – not back the way she'd come like she should have been, but wherever her legs carried her, away from those people. She wasn't sure why she was so upset to hear what they had to say about this. Had she really expected anything different?
But as she came to a stop just in front of an alley she had the sense not to enter, a thought struck her.
No one had even been killed; why did knowing that only make it worse, somewhere deep down? Should she not have been glad the terrorists hadn't managed to kill anyone else today? Not so spiteful, so bitter.
She had to get back to her shop, she knew – whether she had customers waiting for her or not, that was where she belonged. In truth, she had not strayed too far; she would only have to take a different route back, to avoid having to pass by the crime scene again.
Pushing that out of her mind with the thought that it was nice to get some fresh air, she kept walking, slower now, taking deep breaths. Something like this wouldn't get the better of her. It didn't even involve her at all.
She almost bumped into several people as she took a detour down a different street; they didn't really register as people so much as vague forms that quickly moved around her or broke apart from their groups to let her pass, apologizing or else shouting at her to look where she was going. Hey, she was only walking in a straight line. Shouldn't it be easy to get out of her way?
Distracted as she was, there was one that struck her as familiar – had he avoided her any more narrowly he would have brushed up against her, and yet he was the one who warned her quietly, " Do be careful, Ikumatsu-dono."
It was upon hearing her name, spoken so casually and yet as though it were something important, that Ikumatsu froze, returning all at once to reality. Of course, it had to be him again. How strange that he was still just "that man" to her; she'd have to get to work on inventing some sort of name for him. Preferably one he wouldn't like.
The man did not even have the good grace to wait for her to glance back at him before he made his move; he stepped back into her line of sight with an insufferably smug expression.
Well, no, that wasn't entirely fair – he had the same look about him as always, and he was only trying to greet her. It was only Ikumatsu's own mood (combined with him being insufferable in the first place) that led her to perceive him like that. She realized this was the first time she'd seen him during the day... he was even more annoying just for that. Did he not realize there was an incident being investigated nearby, or did he know something else that let him stay calm?
"Good afternoon," he said, bowing slightly as always. It was starting to seem like a reflex he couldn't control, more so than a greeting.
Ikumatsu was having none of that. "You!"
"Hmm?" He took a moment to consider this, as though it were some sort of accusation, before nodding. "Yes, I suppose it is me."
"What are you doing here?"
"At present, feeling terribly unwelcome. And before that..."
She snorted and he trailed off, tilting his head slightly, apparently signalling that he was paying attention to whatever she was about to say – she could hear his headphones, turned up even louder now than they tended to be when he visited her shop. She had a strong temptation to pull them off his head and snap them right in half.
But then she'd somehow end up apologizing and owing him new ones, wouldn't she. Or worse, stopping halfway through and having to awkwardly put them back.
If she paused for much longer than this, she'd be asking for him to mock her. As naturally as possible, she said, "I'm not sure I want to know what you've been doing – and out in broad daylight, at that. I understand your outfit is enough of a ridiculous disguise already, but shouldn't the authorities be able to recognize that by now?"
"I have not been met with any trouble as of yet." And truly, several more people had walked past since they had started talking, and none of them seemed to show any more reaction than a moment's mild concern. He followed her gaze as she looked around at everyone who passed, then offered a rather different observation: "They all appear to be headed in the same direction, do they not? Do you suppose they share a destination?"
The question almost made it seem as though he didn't know what had happened, but at the same time he would hardly be assuming such a thing unless he knew there was somewhere they could all be going.
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure they– don't tell me you were involved with that?" She hadn't intended to ask him, but the question seemed to force itself out.
"With what? You will have to be more specific, I'm afraid. I have been quite busy today." His lips curved into a hint of a smile.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Ah, you're right. Certainly I have an inkling of what happened, but... is that really what you believe? Or are you simply accusing me because that would serve as an acceptable explanation?" Apparently this was a rhetorical question, as he continued almost immediately, "I regret that I must be the one to inform you of this, but I've far more important things to do with my time than cause a disturbance in a restaurant."
"Oh, do you now? You could've fooled me." Her voice came out even more hostile than she'd intended; she took a step toward him.
At the same time, he took a step back, as if this were some sort of dance. Was this all a joke to him?
If it was, the least he could do was laugh about it – instead he frowned and said, "I do believe, Ikumatsu-dono, that it is about time you stopped blaming 'terrorists' for everything that goes wrong."
These words pierced her, however she tried not to acknowledge them – he was right, as per usual. But no, he wasn't right in this case, since this incident clearly had been the terrorists' fault. She narrowed her eyes, if only to cover up whatever other emotion might be showing there. "You make it sound like I'm going out of my way to blame people." With a bitter laugh, she added, "And you must admit, you're not exactly giving me a reason to do any different."
"Oh, I can admit to that without a moment's hesitation." The man's voice remained earnest, but anyone who'd talked to him for more than five seconds could have seen through that. "I have done quite the opposite, in fact; you have been given every reason to pin any problem you see on me. I do hope it has been in some way helpful."
The sense of dread she'd felt since he had first spoken transformed in an instant to a burning rage – she'd knock that stupid look off his face and make him apologize. Teach him one of the hundreds of lessons he seemed to have missed out on in his lifetime.
But before she could even prepare herself to do that, she knew she couldn't. They were in public after all, and obviously he was more than capable of fighting back. Even without taking into consideration what his job must entail, she knew he had to be terribly skilled – it was the only logical explanation for why no one had killed him yet. She let her long sleeves hide her hands, which had balled into fists at first as a reaction and then to keep them from shaking. They were soft hands, strong and marked by years of kitchen accidents but designed to nurture, not to hurt.
The man's hands were in his pockets, as though trying to keep their purpose ambiguous. As though it was still possible not to know.
She took a deep breath; she was most certainly overreacting here. "What are you after? Honestly, there's no need to come seek me out if you want ramen. Just wait at the shop next time." Or better yet, go somewhere else.
"Did you not tell me you didn't want to know? I had no intention of encountering you here; it was merely a fortunate coincidence. If you believe such a thing exists, that is."
"So you're saying you did go out of your way."
"I would appreciate if you did not change the subject." It was a marvel he could talk at all, for all his face seemed capable of moving. "I have given you cause to resent me – this is a personal matter, entirely unrelated to anyone's ideals. Unless I am mistaken, you are in contact with those you call your enemies quite frequently. And there was one man in particular whose involvement you did not seem for a moment to suspect, was there not?"
He smirked and suddenly Ikumatsu regretted wishing he'd lose the poker face. And, as usual, he seemed to find some sort of answer in her appalled silence and added, "If there were Jouishishi involved in that particular incident, he would be as likely a candidate for it as I. He has such a frightening reputation for a reason, one would think."
Ikumatsu's face flushed at this – she would not be holding a conversation about Katsura with this man. Or with anyone else, for that matter; it wasn't anyone's business. "You say that, but you're the one who's here, talking like you know so much about this. Besides, I associate with him, not what he stands for. And at this point, it almost seems like you stand for completely different things. What kind of Jouishishi are you, anyway?"
She asked the question as casually as possible, but she wouldn't have minded if he'd interpreted it as an attack – she did mind that he took it in stride and replied evenly, "One with no interest whatsoever in saving this country, naturally. Was that not the fault you saw in me?"
"Please. I'd be wasting my whole day – and yours too – if I tried to tell you what I saw. Why do you ask me all these questions, are you looking for feedback on your personality now? You would be better off throwing it out and starting over."
This got, of all the possible reactions, a quiet chuckle out of him. "It has always been utterly unfathomable that you do not see far more business, with that delightful attitude of yours." He leaned forward slightly, only for a moment, but then gave a slight shake of his head and said in what might have been his most ambiguous tone yet, "And on that note, I wish you the best in that regard."
Here he was, trying to escape already. Never mind that it was a much more mature choice than what she was resorting to. Ikumatsu turned away, trying to look less confrontational now – more to avoid alarming the strangers passing by than for this man's benefit. She sighed. "You stopped me just to say that?"
"If I recall correctly, I stopped you to advise against walking so carelessly."
"Right. Well, don't get the wrong idea – I appreciate it, Sunglasses Samurai-san."
She watched him out of the corner of her eye; he froze for a moment then slowly copied her in turning, facing the way he'd been headed before. If that was where he was going, and he hadn't just spontaneously appeared here to irritate her...
"Did you think of that one just now?" His voice was no less neutral than before, but she liked to imagine it had softened somewhat. Maybe he was making more of an effort than usual to be unreadable, maybe she was trying too hard to see some sort of response. What nonsense.
"I was considering it for a while. It seems a bit more pleasant than the other things I considered calling you," Ikumatsu said, trying to imitate his tone and failing, laughing.
"It does, does it not...?"
With that, forgetting a proper goodbye (though, as she stopped watching him, she wouldn't have been all that surprised if he did stop to bow), he was on his way.
Ikumatsu kept walking too, this time aware of what she was doing. At the very least, that man had helped her with something.
She couldn't help but look back, but he'd already vanished – could he really blend into a crowd that easily, or had he ducked into an alley somewhere? It didn't matter.
What mattered was that she had to get back to work. To do anything else would be letting him – and all of the terrorists – get to her. That was all terrorists ever accomplished, wasn't it? They scared people. If you took that away, they were powerless.
Her composure returned gradually, until it was as though none of the day's events had ever occurred.
Or she wished she could say that, at least.
As she approached her shop, she was greeted by yet another unwelcome sight. Less unwelcome to some part of her, perhaps, but equally as uninvited as the other man had been.
Leaning against the door to the Hokutoshinken, arms tucked in his sleeves, hair offensively long as always, was Katsura Kotarou.
He looked up when he saw her, greeting her as if this was to be expected. "Ah, Ikumatsu-dono! There you are! I was beginning to worry." Noticing her questioning expression, he glanced between her and the shop and explained, "You left the door unlocked, so I stationed myself here to guard it. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?"
She was sure nothing would have happened, but she forced a smile for now as she motioned for him to stop obstructing the door. "Oh? Silly me, you're right. Thank you, Ka-"
"What are you thinking, Ikumatsu-dono?" Katsura glanced around, alarmed. "You can't use that name in public."
"You're right." Wouldn't want anyone to think I'm consorting with criminals. "Well then, Sir, would you mind-"
"It's not 'Sir', it's Katsura!"
She wasn't sure why she tried anymore. She pushed him aside – carefully, relieved that he did not hold his ground this time – and opened the door. "Geez. Is there some sort of terrorist convention going on today?"
This seemed to concern Katsura more than it should have; he followed her inside. "There are no conventions among the Joui – though I do hold bimonthly Uno tournaments. You would be welcome to attend the next one, if you... are you alright, Ikumatsu-dono?"
Ikumatsu ignored his blathering, returning to the kitchen to see what it was she had to do next. Of course, the fact that she had no work to do until more customers arrived made it hard to pay attention to anything but Katsura. "I'm fine. Honestly, you don't have to worry about me so much. I was just out on a little walk."
She wasn't sure why she lied to him. If he was already so interested in her well-being, wouldn't he protect her from that sunglasses samurai too? Though, that might only get them all in even deeper trouble.
And it wasn't what she wanted to begin with, she realized. So she lied. "There was an incident today, that's what I was referring to. Have you all come out for a special occasion or something? If I'd known, I would have gone on vacation."
"Is there any proof the Joui were responsible for that?" Katsura asked, hesitating, as he took a seat on one of the stools.
"There isn't any proof it was anything else. Now, are you going to order something? I'll even make soba for you, if you're going to insist on that." She couldn't help but be struck by how she'd already been asked a similar question today. But Katsura was careful, already knowing he couldn't argue with her about some things.
Even now, when he must have doubted that she was fine – her own behaviour wasn't helping there, either – he made no comment there. "Oh, no. I just ate. There is a stand only a few streets away from here that sells excellent soba."
Ikumatsu overlooked the insults she could take out of that last comment for now, though she shot him an irritated look. "What are you here for, then? This is a ramen shop, go somewhere else if you're just looking for idle conversation." And in case you hadn't noticed, you're bad for business. She couldn't let any other customers in when Katsura was here, with the exception of a few of his friends, for fear someone would recognize and report him. It wasn't so much of a problem late at night, but in the middle of the afternoon... she could hardly keep her eyes off the door.
"It has been a long time since I last visited," Katsura said, earnest as ever, "I have been on standby in various places for months now. Why, why does everyone forget about me when they start serious arcs... is it because I'm on standby in the first place?" He stared at the counter for a moment, seeming about to start some sort of rant, but fortunately recovered and said instead, "I couldn't just leave once my duty of protecting the shop was fulfilled, I had to make sure you weren't needlessly concerned."
"I'm only as concerned as usual." Ikumatsu sighed. "You can leave any time you want. And... I'm sure I would hear about it, if something did happen to you. I haven't given it much thought." It hadn't even felt like a possibility until he brought it up, but she didn't feel like admitting something like that right now. "I'm sorry, Katsura-san, I'm preoccupied today."
He nodded, acknowledging the apology without seeming to feel a need to give her an excuse. And then, his voice soft, he said, "Ikumatsu-dono, if something does happen..." he broke off suddenly as he glanced back at the door.
Sure enough, as though Ikumatsu's anticipating the worst had caused it, there came voices outside and the door opened slowly.
Katsura didn't need to be told to react – he ran around to her side of the counter so quickly it startled her, only to stop just inside the doorway leading to the suite upstairs. "... I'll make sure Elizabeth becomes a regular customer here in my stead," he whispered, then vanished upstairs.
This wasn't the first time he'd done that, but it still bothered her – something about remembering the way they'd first met, no doubt. If she found anything of hers was missing...
But she couldn't give voice to any of the things she could think of shouting after him, as they were no longer alone in the shop.
The newcomers were two older women, one of whom visited every few weeks – the other she'd never seen before.
With an image of Katsura running through her room, jumping out the window and escaping over the rooftops in broad daylight in her mind, she turned to greet the customers with a cheerful smile. Everything else that had happened that day remained unforgotten, but she could set it aside just for now.
"Good afternoon, and welcome to the Hokutoshinken. I see you've brought a new friend, Amano-san? Oh, there's no need to close the door again, the weather is lovely today – please, take a seat wherever you'd like. Today's special is..."
Author's Notes: I started out with just the thought in mind that "this fic needs to have Zura in it, he's already been mentioned a few times and he'll only become more relevant as we go", and somehow we ended up with this huge sprawling mess. This is the chapter with the most people and points brought up in it and yet it is entirely Ikumatsu-centric. A couple heartwarming moments, a few more terrible moments, and potentially a set-up for what's going to happen next chapter. Not that I'd tell you what it'll be or where the foreshadowing was.
I didn't take much from the RPs this time around, just the subject Bansai brought up (from a long-forgotten pointless conversation they had) and a couple lines cut from other places because I can't properly apply them in the original context. Also I found a way to tie in the nickname of "Sunglasses Samurai-san", it was never in any of the threads but appeared spontaneously in short chat RPs later so I had to pinpoint an exact moment Ikumatsu came up with it. Other than that, this chapter is all new. Some of it was necessary, some of it wasn't... but it was all worth it, I'd like to think. And I can now rightfully add Zura to the characters involved, which may lead more people to come read...
Thank you to those few of you that continue to support this fic. It has always been my dream to share this with the world.