A cold wind coaxed a shiver from Kamatari as he sat on the roof, looking over the dismal city of Paris. It had bested him; this foreign place proved too difficult a challenge. If he were himself, his old, confident self, then perhaps things might have been different. Instead he was certain that this time tomorrow he would already be fired and sent back to Japan, possibly to a prison cell. He should never have come to her house. He should have graciously turned down her hospitality. But his desire for friendship had overtaken his judgment, and he knew it. He may have known from the beginning, even.
But still here he was. On her roof. Trying desperately to summon anger at something, yet finding only despair.
It was Friday evening, and Kamatari was fishing around in the closets of Maria's apartment. She was out for the day and had kindly allowed him to rummage through her odds and ends on the off chance he could find something useful. He hadn't told her what for, but she also didn't seem to mind. He'd found an old clothing rod that would have been used for drying laundry, and a thick hair ribbon made from quality fabric, but nothing that was relevant to his task: finding a concealable weapon.
He didn't like the idea of bringing it into the home of a trusted friend, but he couldn't take chances. He may have to fight someone off if he was discovered snooping around. And Yvette had said it was dangerous for gay people here, much like it is most places. That meant he had to have something-anything, really-to use for protection. Plus, if he was being honest with himself, he knew it would give him confidence to hold a weapon again.
He was just about to give up when he spied something intriguing. There were two small, metal spheres with yet smaller metal rings attached at one side. He pondered what they could be for until he pulled on them to find that they were attached to a large piece of patterned fabric. To weigh it down while it hangs...he thought. He glanced back at the hair ribbon. Struck by inspiration, he separated the spherical weights from their home and tied one to each end the lavender-colored strip. He swung it about experimentally, and finding it to be to his satisfaction, wrapped it around his wrist to hide under his sleeve.
Picking up the wooden rod and closing the closet door, he returned to his room to stash it for future uses. As he did so he noticed the letter he'd left unopened since it arrived on Tuesday. It was from Seizo, and that was reason enough for Kamatari to avoid opening it. Figuring that he'd rather take care of any aggravations before he left, he sat down at the table and promptly ripped the thing open.
鎌足へ (To Kamatari)
友人に手紙を書く時連絡すること
(When you write a letter to a friend, contact me)
精三 (Seizo)
"This doesn't even qualify as a letter. It's a note at best. No structure, no greeting or parting...this is Seizo alright. Too lazy to be bothered," Kamatari muttered. And where does he get off being so familiar toward me? It was oddly friendly of the man to offer, but he clearly had forgotten to whom he was writing. Kamtari was a warrior in service to a cause that would have overthrown the government. Who was a treasonous spy supposed to write to, anyway? He had never really liked any of his compatriots much, and the least objectionable among them were dead or in prison except for…
Except for Seta Sōjirō.
The thought of the young man who was a constant source of aggravation for Kamatari set his teeth on edge. He stood in the way of Kamatari's path to Shishio, and then had the gall to abandon the cause after he was defeated by the Battōsai. He had no desire whatsoever to write to Sōjirō...right?
"I don't know why I would bother with writing," he said aloud to no one. "Sōjirō is wandering aimlessly about Japan, and I doubt they could find him even if they tried." He paused a moment. "Then again, if it never meets its intended recipient, what does it matter what or if I write? I might just happen to feel like writing a letter to no one in particular."
宗次郎君へ (To Sōjirō)
秋風が立ちはじめ、しのぎやすい頃となりました。放浪の旅はいかがですか。離れた時から面白いことがあったのです。フランスで女子高校へ通い始めました。もう友達ができました。仕事なん'でも少し楽しいと思います。女子高校なので性別のことを秘密にしているんです。そのおかげでストレスがたまっている。
(The Fall Winds have begun to blow, and time is easier to while away*. How is your wandering journey going? Since we parted ways something interesting has happened. I've started attending a girl's secondary school in France. I've made a friend already. Even though it's work, it's also a little fun I think. Because it's a girl's school, I've had to keep my gender** a secret. As a result, I've been feeling stressed.)
He hesitated. He reread everything, and really didn't like the direction he was taking the letter. Sighing, he began casting about for a second sheet of paper when there was a knock at the door.
"Kamatari," Maria said, sticking her head in the door. "Your friend is here. Such a polite young woman, coming here to guide you. She's waiting for you in the foyer."
"Thank you, Maria. I'll be right down," he replied. Snagging the clothing he wore upon arriving here in France, and double checking the makeshift weapon around his wrist, he descended the stairs.
"Hi, Yvette! Sorry if I kept you waiting," Kamatari said in greeting. Yvette smiled at him.
"No, no. I only just got here. Are you ready?"
"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to it." He turned to Maria. "I'll be going now."
"Have fun, Kamatari. It won't be often that you have this opportunity," she returned, a gentle smile on her lips. She waved at the two as they closed the door behind them.
They had been walking through the cool evening air for some time in a long, but comfortable silence. Kamatari didn't really feel the need to speak, though Yvette would occasionally look over and smile. They were walking over a bridge when Yvette stopped to admire the sunset, Kamatari following suit. It was a beautiful wash of violet, orange, yellow, and touches of red. The wind picked up ever so lightly just then, swishing the hems of their uniforms and rustling their hair. The hemline just barely kissed Kamatari's thighs. What a nice feeling...he thought.
The wind died and the moment ended. They walked on and passed the bridge.
"I hope you feel comfortable at my house tonight. It might be a little large for only one guest," Yvette worried.
"I'm sure I'll be very comfortable. After all, I'm coming to see you, not your house."
"Right, right. Here we are," Yvette gestured. A little shocked that it was so close to school, Kamatari turned to follow Yvette's hand. Shock turned into disbelief as his eyes beheld a large mansion with a white exterior and warm, golden light spilling forth from every orifice. A beautiful fountain peeked through the wrought iron gate in welcome. He could hardly believe it. He knew that the girls who attended his school were wealthy, but seeing such a vibrant and pressing reminder of that wealth was stunning.
"Kamatari, you're staring."
"O-oh. Sorry."
"Let's go inside," Yvette suggested. She pushed the gate open, leading Kamatari to her door. She lifted a heavy, brass knocker and rapped it on the wood. Not ten seconds after, the door was opened. A woman in a black dress with a white apron stood on the other side, curtsying to them both.
"Welcome home, young miss. Please allow me to take your and your guest's things to your room."
"Thank you, Anne. I appreciate it."
"Dinner is waiting for you both in the dining room." Saying nothing further, Anne departed, leaving the two classmates alone in the lavish entry hall. Gesturing for Kamatari to follow again, Yvette spun left and walked down a hallway and into a large dining room. There were only two places set, one to each side of the head seat. Another servant was waiting for them. As they sat, she pushed each seat in behind.
"Thank you, Amèlie. That will be all for now."
The woman named Amèlie curtsied, then met Anne outside the room and shut the door. Not missing a beat, Yvette lifted her napkin and spread it in her lap. Right, right. Western table manners, thought Kamatari. Uhm...how did that go again? Agh, it's been ages since I had lessons. Yvette most definitely noticed his hesitation, giggling under her breath.
"Don't worry too much about proper manners. It's just the two of us here, right?"
"But I...well, this is such a nice meal, and I feel rude if I don't…"
"Well," she responded, "Why don't you teach me something about Japanese table manners, then? I'd love to learn."
"Hm. Alright. Basics first. Before we eat, it's customary and polite to say itadakimasu." He punctuated the last word by bring his hands together. Yvette copied the gesture.
"Eatadockeemass…"
Kamatari snorted in trying to stifle his laugh.
"I didn't say that right, did I?" Yvette guessed.
"Hehehe. Not at all." He smiled, at ease again with his friend. "One more time. I ta da ki ma su."
"I...ta da ki...ma su…" she attempted. Kamatari nodded, and repeated his initial gesture.
"Itadakimasu."
"Itadakimasu."
"Good job! That was exactly right," Kamatari said, congratulating his friend on her first word of Japanese.
"Thank you." Yvette brushed stray hairs behind her ear. "Maybe you could teach me more Japanese sometime."
"Sure." He smiled brightly. This could be a fun night after all. "I only see two plates, so I guess I won't be meeting your parents tonight?"
"...I...don't have parents anymore. It's just my brother and I." Yvette looked down at her plate, pushing vegetables about with her fork.
"Oh...I'm so sorry. Will I meet your brother, then?"
"No. He doesn't even live here since he married."
That means-! I got this close and there's nothing at all to be gained! Grimacing at the thought, Kamatari almost felt an urge to weep in exasperation. It turned out that there would be absolutely no intelligence value in befriending this girl. His grief was cut short though, as Yvette's heavy sigh drifted across the table.
"I'm sorry to ruin dinner with depressing topics. I hope I didn't make you feel awkward," Yvette lamented.
"Ah. No, no. It was my fault. I brought up something unpleasant," Kamatari countered in apology. "Dinner looks great."
"Yeah. Thanks," she responded with a wan smile.
After dinner, they retired to Yvette's bedroom. Kamatari wasn't at all surprised that it was nearly as extravagant as the rest of the house. Yvette plopped down onto her bed-a large, canopy-sporting monster of a thing-and patted a spot near her. Taking the hint, Kamatari gently sat himself down next to his friend.
"I know I've said it already, but your house is incredible, Yvette."
"Thank you, Kamatari. I'm glad you enjoy it. Somebody should," she replied, falling to a murmur near the end.
"You must have frequent guests, though. Don't wealthy, influential people often entertain?"
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Only the twins come here regularly. Anyone who needs something goes to my brother. Apart from Zuri and Zara, and now you, Anne and Amèlie are the only people I see very often."
She looked so lonely in that moment. How many nights alone had she endured? When was the last time her brother spent any quality time with her? It was also this moment he realized that he understood all too well. He felt his face soften, and he put a supportive hand on her shoulder. She smiled at him somewhat ruefully, took a breath, and was suddenly her sunny self again. She's gotten used to it, he thought. That's almost as sad by itself.
"You're really strong, you know that?" Kamatari told his friend.
"And you're a good friend," she said. Yvette locked with his gaze for a moment, and the longer she looked the more red her face became.
Kamatari could also feel his face redden, so he looked away.
"Maybe it's time to freshen ourselves up and change into comfortable clothing," Yvette suggested.
"You're not comfortable in your uniform?"
"Not nearly as much as my nightgown, no." She joked, her smile waxing slightly mischievous. "Why don't you use the bath first? I had Amèlie draw one while Anne was tidying up."
"Thanks. I'll do that. Then maybe we can talk some more," suggested Kamatari. He stretched a bit. "Where is it?"
"Just the next door over. It's my personal one. Enjoy it."
The bathroom was, remarkably, more simply decorated than the rest of the house. It had only a few items hanging on rather sparse walls, being mostly geared toward the use one might expect of it. The tub was the nicest feature in the room, being a lovely bronze with ornate, clawed feet like a beast's.
"Well, this is nice," he said to nobody.
He smiled to himself. He could see the steam rising off the water. This was going to feel very good. He stripped out of his clothes slowly, piling them neatly on a chair near the bathtub. A good, hot soak was exactly what he needed to relax. Just before he got in the tub, he felt a little twinge in the muscles of his upper back. He raised his arms and stretched, trying to rid himself of the troublesome ache.
"Kamatari," Yvette's voice called. Before he could react she'd turned the knob and was opening the door. "You forgot your clean...clothes…"
And there he was.
In mid-stretch.
Utterly naked.
Yvette's eyes widened some and her lips parted like she was trying to speak. But she didn't, merely standing stock-still and staring at him, her face the very picture of disbelief.
Kamatari however was drowning in his own panic. He could tell that his thoughts were racing, but he couldn't reach out and touch any of them. They passed by, flowing like passing lights over the surface of a bubble surrounding him. Then he saw Yvette sink to her knees. The bubble shattered like glass, and he sprinted from the room, completely terrified of what would happen should he stay.
"Kamatari…was that...you…?" she muttered. "That...couldn't have been...right?"
Looking back on the moment, he didn't know what he'd intended by climbing out an open window and onto the roof. When he arrived, the wind that had blown softly earlier that evening was billowing harshly. He had almost lost his footing, and in the instant that he'd nearly stumbled and fallen to his death he regained most of his senses. Unfortunately, he had still been without any plan. So he sat, and there he remained.
I...I'm finished. Yvette will be disgusted by me, Manzo will send me home in chains, and then I'll be lucky to remain alive in prison. At this rate, what more can I do?
A short gust blew against his exposed skin, evoking a shiver. He wished he'd had the presence of mind to grab his clothes on the way out. Now I'll have to go back for them…
"Ahem."
Or not… He flinched seeing Yvette standing close to the same window he'd exited from. She said nothing, clearly upset, yet trying-without success-to appear impassive. In her hands she held the lighter under-kimono from the items he'd left in the bathroom.
"Kamatari...I…" she began, ascending to stand next to him. Her hesitation was brief and painful. He wasn't sure she would continue before she held out his garment. "Here," she said. He took it from her grasp.
"..." He looked down at the cloth in his hands, lips pursed.
"I'm...not sure where to begin," she confessed. He looked back at her, surprise only tinging his features. His brow furrowed. He instinctively patted the spot next to him, so she sat, and they both looked out at Paris for a while. Neither was sure how long they were there, but when the wind speed fell it felt as good a time as any to talk.
"I'm so, so sorry," he said. "You must think I'm horrible and disgusting…" he went on, voicing his concern from earlier.
"A little," came the candid response. "More for the lie than for anything else."
"...I'm sorry."
"Kamatari...I can really only guess-though I don't think I'd be far off if I did-but why do this? Why go to the trouble?" she asked, at last looking him in the face. "And this time, please tell me the truth."
A heavy sigh escaped him. He knew that he owed his friend the truth. The whole truth. Even if it meant losing her friendship.
"I didn't come to this country to study. As you can see it's quite easy for me to pass as a woman, and I'm only a little older than you, so I was sent here to spy on this country. I was to make nice with the daughters of wealthy families and ingratiate myself to their parents. Through gossip and espionage I would be informed of all the significant events and information of the upper classes." As he spoke he unfolded the clothing she'd brought, but draped it over himself like a blanket.
"So this is work for you, then." She paused. "I can tell you disagree with it, so why take the assignment?"
"Heh. I didn't disagree when I accepted, but I don't really have a choice in the matter. Yvette, I'm a criminal in Japan. It was this or prison for me."
"You're a criminal, huh? What did you do?" Astonishingly she hadn't moved or even leaned away from him yet.
"Committed treason," he said simply.
"That's...a little vague…" she complained.
"I know."
"I haven't known you long enough to ask this, but...could you just tell me you whole story? I don't want any more secrets between us." At the word "secrets," she placed her hand over his. He frowned, remembering.
"I was born to a wealthy merchant family. The reason I speak French and know a few other things is because I was instructed in Western culture them when I was younger. But one day, my parents found my diary and the stash of women's clothes I'd managed to obtain. They threw me out when I refused to change. I was 12 years old." He took a breath. "Fortunately, my father had insisted I be trained in martial arts, as I seemed to have a talent for it. I learned to use it not only to survive the streets, but also to make money."
"What a terribly lonely life you've led," she commented, and he thought he heard pity somewhere in her voice.
"It was around the time I had established a reputation that I fell in love with someone: an ambitious, former manslayer named Makoto Shishio. I wanted nothing more than for him to return my feelings, but he was already in love with another woman called Yumi. I tried to make do by being the strongest man in his employ, but that title belonged to Sōjirō. I could be neither the best man, nor the best woman for Shishio, but I loved him dearly nonetheless. It was for him that I rebelled against my home country in a failed coup. He was killed by a legendary warrior, while I was defeated by a girl no older than you." He sighed. "I was going to kill myself, but as it turns out, our elite warriors were also charged with the duty of protecting his legacy in the event of failure. And so, here I am. In France, and sitting exposed on a roof."
Yvette was silent in ponderance. But then she squeezed his hand as she inquired,
"Do you still love him? Even now?"
Kamatari didn't respond aloud. Yes. I still live only for him.
"...that settles that, then." Yvette rose to her feet and offered her hand. "Come on. Let's go back inside. It's cold out here, and you still need to put some clothes on before bed."
"You're letting me stay?" he asked, incredulous.
"Of course. After all, you're still my friend," she told him simply, as if it were the most obvious of truths. Then passed a moment between them with nothing but the noise of the returning wind. "Your secret will always be safe with me, Kamatari. So come inside."
With tears beginning to spill, Kamatari gladly reached for the hand-no, the support-that she, his very best friend offered. They both returned to the warmth of the house.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," called Yvette from her bedroom door. "Those two were a little upset that I kept them from their alone time just to make extras." She held up her hands, in each holding a moderately-sized stuffed pastry. She carried them over to her bed where Kamatari was wrapped in both his under-kimono and a blanket. "Here you go. Sweets always make things a little better."
"Thanks," he said. He bit into the crunchy, sugar-crusted exterior to find bluish-purple filling packed with berries. "It's really good."
"I'll tell them you said that. Maybe once they're less angry with me for spoiling their evening."
"Yvette, I…" he trailed off, not confident in much of anything anymore.
"Yes? Go on."
"I don't know how I can thank you for-" Kamatari was abruptly cut off when he was smothered in the fabric of Yvette's nightwear. She was holding him, squeezing him.
"You don't have to. This is what friends do for each other. Anyone would do this much for someone they cared about," she told him, squeezing tighter as if it would help him to understand. "Friends also tell each other the truth and, believe it or not, I still have one more secret to tell you." She released him, and beckoned for him to follow her. They treaded slowly down the stairs and through the hall, eating and also trying not to disturb Anne and Amèlie's rest. Yvette stopped them in front of a doorless entry. It was a long, rectangular room with what appeared to be an adjoining study. Kamatari couldn't tell what it was used for, especially with the furniture pushed to the side and covered with heavy sheets. He guessed it was some type of gathering room.
"Did you have something you need to show me in here?" he questioned.
"Over here, by the hearth," she informed him. The hearth she spoke of was cold and dark, devoid of any signs there had once been a living fire. There was a weapon stand resting on the mantle, holding an intricately engraved and clearly aged bow made from yew. Its matching, leather quiver sat empty beside it. Kamatari stepped up beside her, and she indicated for him to look upon the painting that hung above. "Those people up there are my great-grandparents. They became wealthy individuals by turning the small fur trading business they inherited into an international company. Our family has practiced archery for generations, and this bow belonged to my great-grandmother, while my brother inherited its twin. Despite this background, both of them were avid scholars. So they decided to found a school for women who were unfairly excluded from academia."
"You don't mean our school?"
"I do. I am the great-granddaughter of the first chairman of our school. My family owns and operates it, and that's what keeps my brother and his wife so busy," she concluded. She squared her shoulders to her friend. "You said you needed information. Well, you've found the right girl. I'll give it to you so long as it won't harm my family or the school."
"Yvette, no…"
"Between attending school with me, and the social gatherings my brother hosts for trustees and parents, you should have a good foundation for intelligence gathering." She wore a thin smile.
"I can't ask you to do anything illegal! I would never!" protested Kamatari.
"And you're not asking. I'm offering. Besides," she said, "It will help ensure that your bosses are happy, which will keep you close by."
"Now I'm the one who doesn't know what to say."
"It's nothing, really." She closed her eyes, took a breath, and left the room. Kamatari trailed just behind. "How are you feeling? A little better, I hope," she said after a moment.
"Yes. You were right about eating. I do feel better now," he answered, catching up with her long strides.
"Good because I have a small favor to ask. Could I see you wearing the clothes you brought with you?"
"Uhm...sure. I don't mind."
It didn't take Kamatari long to put on his old clothes. He had long since mastered getting in and out of it by himself. The hiyoku he was already wearing, tabi, zori, the outer kimono, the obi...all of it fit exactly the same as it always had. When he was finished he turned around again and met Yvette's eyes. She was staring at him in a way he felt he recognized.
"Beautiful," she muttered without thinking. "This is what you wore back in Japan?"
"Yes," he nodded. "And when I first arrived here."
"I can see that it used to be a little torn...you must have worn this in battle too."
He nodded again.
"How long ago was it that you fought that battle?" she asked him.
"Around half a year," he responded.
"That's so recent," she said, her shock apparent.
"It feels like a century to me. A century since I was my old self. My confident self…" he mourned.
Yvette opened her arms, stood, and embraced Kamatari.
"You lost something precious to you. It's ok if it takes you awhile to find yourself again." She gripped him firmly about the shoulders. "But I think it might be time for bed."
"Ok."
Yvette crawled onto her bed and pulled on the ribbon that held her braid. He long, brown hair fell about her shoulders, so she shook it out. Then she settled under her blankets.
"Good night," she said.
"Good night," he returned as he spun and padded over to the door.
"Kamatari…"
"Yes?" he asked without turning.
"Whether you're a woman or not...I think you're beautiful. Shishio was a fool for not picking you."
"...thank you, Yvette." He stepped through the doorway and closed it softly behind him.
NOTES TO THE READER:
I tried something a little differently this chapter. I wanted to try and provide something that made you all feel a bit more like you might be there, so I threw in some Japanese for the letters. I sort of pictured you all standing and reading over Kamatari's shoulder. But rereading the second letter in Japanese I found it very stilted. I wasn't really taught much about letter writing, and had to do the research myself. So in the end the letter remained unfinished.
Footnotes on Translation:
*The Fall Winds have begun to blow, and time is easier to while away: This is part of the format of Japanese letter writing. At the opening there is to be a seasonal greeting of some sort. I looked up a few, and this seemed to be one of the more old-fashioned-sounding choices.
**gender: I mark this not because I think my readers need a lecture on the concept of gender necessarily, but rather to point out an interesting factoid. The most common word used for "gender" is also the one meaning "physiological sex (AKA the characteristics of a person's genitals)". That word being 性別 (せいべつ - seibetsu). In my experience, if one wanted to make the distinction specifically of gender rather than the shape of genitalia, I most often heard the English loan word (ジェンダー) rather than 性別. Then again I hung around a lot of lesbian bars so the range of my experience is limited.
Special Thanks to a particular Japanese exchange student who helped me nail down the lazy, give-no-shits tone of Seizo's note.