"Ujio is teaching you the way of the Japanese sword," Katsumoto told Algren simply the moment after they had exchanged their greetings. He had come to know of how his right-hand had beaten him in an informal match between them, even though the man did harbor a slight distaste towards the American, and took it out on him then. It was an opportunity for him to learn of their ways as well, and perhaps, he would be able to see from a new light as well. "Miryu would be more willing to assist, as well."
At the very mention of Miryu's name, Algren took a slight gulp. What he had did just a few moments ago was unforgivable, and yet she had said that it was not his fault… Deciding to let the matter rest, he pondered on Katsumoto's words and replied, "Is that what he was doing?" If being beaten over and over could make one a master swordsman, than he would have been the greatest warrior a long, long time ago.
Katsumoto just shook his head. There would be much more that the American would have to learn, he reasoned, and the same went for him regarding his strange guest. "You fought against your red Indians?" he asked, remembering his mention of them in the books that he had written, the books that he had taken from him just after Algren was taken hostage. He had written about his regret, the carnage he had seen and much more, and he wanted to know why. Did he not carry out his duty; did he not carry himself with honor?
It was not their first "conversation", and it would certainly be their last. Whenever the two men met, they would learn a great deal about one another, and likewise, they have come to acknowledge that they had much in common, and much to share. The tales they had exchanged, the lives that they had took, and the great warriors they had known…
More importantly, Miryu was closer to him than she ever was. She told him much about the Samurai way, and from her, he found how to find joy and peace in the smallest of pleasures. Just looking at her was an exact testament to that. Every morning, she would rise and train in the quiet of dawn, and in the afternoon, she would be around the village, helping as she could. No, she could not cook, nor could she sew, but she loved to teach children to read and write, and she loved to play with them. With Ujio, she would teach him and several children in the art of kenjutsu in the mild autumn afternoons, and in the evenings, she would take walks with him. At night, they would all dine in Taka's house, and sometimes, he would be a guest in her house… In her days with him, she had told him that even one whose soul was as bloodstained as his could redeem themselves, by noticing the error of their ways, and by diverting their energies into something totally different. It would be hard at first, but the rewards were great.
At first, he did not know what she had been talking about, but he knew all too well that it was there, in the quiet village in the mountains, was where he had first had untroubled sleep in many, many years. And it was all because of those around him, and Miryu…
Days of calm and peace soon became weeks, and fall died, bringing winter in. By then, Algren had developed enough of the Japanese vocabulary to communicate with almost everyone. He was particularly close with Higen and Magojiro, followed by the other children other than Miryu and Nobutada. There was even once when Algren decided to teach the children in the village to play baseball, but he failed outright, much to Miryu's laughter, and that of the mother-folk's.
To say that he was not fascinated by the villagers was a lie. They were many contradictions, as Graham had once said, and they were much more. And at the center of it all, was Miryu. The samurai, like all Oriental cultures were biased against their women, but he came to learn that women born of her linage, through a maternal line, were trained and raised as if they were sons. Her mother, Ryumiko, and her distant cousin, Nagasaki Hiryuko, a Satsuma patriot, were shining examples of this. Miryu seemed to embody everything that a Samurai was: artistic, literate, bloodthirsty, somber and honor-bound. Her understanding of protocol and tradition and her knowledge of Western ideas have made her an enigma, and he came to understand her better…
One evening, as the snow had slowly began to fall, she came into Taka's house just as Higen and Magojiro were teaching Algren words relating to "fire"' in Japanese. After their lesson, their mother smiled at them and said, "Miryu Onee-chan needs to talk to Algren-san in private." She did not look at the American, and he said nothing. With a polite bow, he exited the house, and took Miryu's arm in his. He knew that it was her way, but he wanted to ensure that he had acted as a proper gentleman in his own terms.
The sight around them was breathtaking; it was as if the world had been consumed by a sheet of white. Their footsteps upon the crisp snow was partnered by the light tinkling of the bell on her katana, as if it were a symphony made only for their ears. For a long time, they walked aimlessly, smiling at one another, knowing that they would stop once they were far enough away from the rest of the village. That was when Miryu broke the silence, saying, "Winter in this village has always been beautiful."
She remembered protecting this blessed ancestral haven during the Bakamatsu, she remembered the darkness of those days in Kyoto, of blood washing the streets every night, and she remembered coming here, and finding a little solace for her tortured soul. No doubt, Algren was experiencing what she had years ago, in this sacred place, she could see it in his eyes. There was a strange calm around him that she had not known, and somehow, it soothed her. It soothed her to see that he was no longer torturing himself, constantly drowning in whatever alcohol he had to bring himself to sleep, it soothed her that she no longer heard his cries of anguish every night, haunted by his nightmares… She looked at him, and found a smile hanging on his lips, something that was rare, until they came here. "What, was it something I said?" she asked him, chuckling at something she did not know about, just entranced into following his gaze.
Algren shook his head. "It's nothing, Miryu," he answered, fingers tentatively touching her jaw. She was so beautiful, flawlessly so. Dressed in a simple kimono, her katana by her side, she was different than any other woman. Yes, he could not deny that Taka was beautiful and strong as well, but they were completely two different women. She was a warrior, just as he was, and she had seen all that he had. And so far, it was she that could calm him, all of him, ending the persistence of his nightmares, just by being by his side, and just by sharing her own experiences with him. She had given him more than just a reason to smile, she had given him peace, mystifying his mind from the first moment they had met. "You're just so… breathtaking," he murmured, gazing into her sapphire eyes, drowning in the spark that they had held.
Miryu blushed, and tried to look away. "Algren, stop…" she said, knowing that she would not be able to resist him any further. As much as she wanted her relationship with him to go closer, she just could not bring herself to trust that they could be together forever. He was an American, and when all the conflict had ended, he would have to return to his country, and she would have to remain in Japan, as a ward of the Emperor, and as a student of the Hiten-Mitsurugi Ryuu. She was afraid, afraid that one day, they would have to leave one another. She could not withstand a heartbreak as deep as this, no matter what Katsumoto had told her, no matter that it was she who carved a new age out of bloodshed and survived.
"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered, tilting her chin upwards. Her lips, they were so dangerously close to his, and in the mere seconds, he kissed her. It was more than the peck on the cheek she had given him before his audience with the Emperor, more than their most intense gazes. It hit him harder than the impact of Ujio's bokken, stronger than the swift blow she had dealt to him in his quest to learn the art of kenjutsu. Who knew that Tsubasa Miryu, the warrior with the iron-clad soul, could so easily melt into his arms, respond to his kiss and bare her very soul to him? Their kiss had been short, he knew it, but the fire, that spark that she always had, could easily be found in it, and he knew that she welcomed it. Somehow, he knew that Miryu did not fear him, but her prospects with him, and he did not blame her. He could never blame her.
She let him hold her tighter, and felt a tear fall from her own eyes. "Don't…" she managed to say, although her body acted otherwise, yearning for his comfort, yearning for his warmth. It was as if a dream came true, to have a man who loved her hold her in a majestically beautiful setting of a quiet village blanketed by snow… She relented, knowing that the American would just break any wall she set against him, knowing that she could not deny her own heart any longer. To have herself in his arms, it was as if a piece of her soul had been returned to her, a piece of her soul that she did not know was lost at the beginning. He had given her more than just freedom from the Imperial Courts; he had given a reason for her to open her heart, and to feel, for the first time, as genuinely as she had towards him. Yes, it had been pure attraction to start with, but through the short weeks they had known one another, it had blossomed into something more.
Algren grasped a lock of her tightly, and whispered, "I love you, Miryu." They were words that made her heart flutter over and over again, and she looked at the man who held so much turmoil, finding a changed man. The man, tortured by his own past, embittered and broken by what he had done, had been gone. And in his place, stood this man, full of honor, courage and gentleness that she knew laid dormant within himself for a long, long time. "You gave me peace that I could not find by myself…" Yes, through her laughter, and just by staying with him in the night, she had driven his nightmares far, far into the abyss.
"And I you, because you complete me," she replied before he inched closer for yet another kiss. That was the kiss that sealed their fates, and it was this kiss that made them forget who they were, what they were supposed to do and be. At that time, there was no Nathan Algren, the American soldier tasked to train the Japanese Imperial Army, who was captured by rebels, neither was there Tsubasa Miryu, the hitokiri who became a bodyguard of the men who would shape Japan in the new age. They were just a man and a woman; a man and woman who had found love, in a little quiet village in the mountains. It was only then she realized, that it was exactly why she had turned the Emperor down… to have a love like the one which she shared with Algren, based upon understanding and trust, and not one of allegiance and duty to a man of higher authority. With him, she was his equal, and not an object to be gained, and protected.
For Algren, he was happy. For he had finally found the peace he had been seeking all along, and he found it in her.
HAN: Ah, the moment that you all have been waiting for. I modified the "preview" part to fit more into the story, and I hope that you enjoy it. And I apologize for the shortening of the scenes in which Algren tries to fit in with the other people in the village, it would not only drag the plot longer than it should be, but it would be too tedious to write, haha, so forgive my loneliness. All the serious stuff will come after this, and expect a cameo from Kenshin! Bye for now!