Chapter Three
Shinko sighed as her mother fiddled with her hair. It had been three days since her duel with Kenji, and she hadn't been allowed to see him once since then. Yahiko had been at a loss for words when they showed up together, Kenji still sweaty, and – as Kaoru had so kindly pointed out – Shinko's obi tied differently, but Tsubame, when she heard about it, had been irate. Especially since Shinya had come home drunk and, in righteous defence of his own, tenuous position, told Tsubame that "Shinko had some too."
"I still can't believe you would do that, Shinko." Clucked Tsubame disapprovingly, as she tried to do something with Shinko's hair other than short and spiky. "If you're interested in Kenji, then fine, he's a handsome young man, and I can understand that you would be attracted to him, and of course, you probably weren't thinking clearly, but still, it's completely inappropriate to – "
"It's not what you think! Kenji and I didn't do anything like that!" said Shinko, blushing hotly at her mother's prattling. "And it was only one glass of sake."
"One glass too many." Muttered Tsubame darkly, before continuing, "Well, then, what were you doing?"
"A duel with shinai. Kenji was helping me practise my Kenjutsu. I had a yukata on underneath my kimono, to train in, and when I put my kimono back on I had to retie the obi."
"You were practising with your shinai? Shinko, you don't need to be able to fight, Yahiko and Shinya are more than capable, even Kaoru-san doesn't train much anymore."
"I want to be able to fight! If you don't believe me then you can find the yukata I wore in my shinai-bag." Shinko stood up, Tsubame's comb lodging in her tangled hair. "I'm just as good as Shinya, and I'm sick of no-one ever thinking that a girl can fight. I don't want to be protected! I don't need someone like Kenshin, or chichi, or Uncle Sano to protect me!" blinking back furious tears, Shinko stormed out of the room, the lacquered comb still dangling from her hair.
A minute later, Shinko found Shinya's room in a state of disarray. Dirty clothes were scattered across the floor, as well as training manuals and the bags of sand that he tied to his wrists and ankles to increase his strength. By the far wall was a rack with three shinai, sitting on a desk filled with coloured rocks, Shinya's secret obsession. Wrinkling her nose, Shinko picked her way across the room to the closet, where she pulled out two yukata. Quickly stuffing them into her shinai-bag, in place of the rank, sweaty yukata she had borrowed three days ago, Shinko began to make her way back towards the door. She stopped when she passed the table though, and after a moment's thought, she took the least battered shinai off the bottom of the rack – her own was nearly broken after the duel with Kenji. Sliding it in her obi, Shinko left her brother's room. She froze as she heard Tsubame's voice in her room, her mother was looking for her, a tearful sorry on her lips. Gritting her teeth, Shinko tugged the comb out of her hair, and placed it on the ground with the brief note she had scrawled, minutes before.
I'm going travelling,
Shinko.
Wiping at her face, Shinko turned and quickly ran out of the house, her bare feet making no sound against the floor.
*****
"Pay attention Kenji-san."
Kenji looked up from under his red fringe as the quiet voice jerked him from his musings. Higashidani Ota was standing across from him, watching him reproachfully from above their crossed shinai. Even at twenty-seven, it was easy to see why Sano called him 'applecheeks', a nickname that had stuck in the dojo, when he'd come to join it, seventeen years ago. Kenji shrugged, appalled at himself for being so distracted. He couldn't let his guard down for an instant if he wanted to truly master himself and his sword. He needed to defeat Shinya, once and for all, and win the Sakabato off Yahiko. With that in hand, he could go about proving that he was the best, not his weak-willed father. Okaasan and the others always praised Kenshin's vow as a demonstration of the highest form of self-control and determination, but Kenji knew it for what it was, the weakness and lies of a foolish old man, no longer brave enough to kill for his beliefs. And now, even Shinko was becoming an obstacle to that goal. Kenji had thought that she'd been tamed; content to leave the kenjutsu to her brother…he'd been wrong. Shinko had trained just as hard as Shinya, but in secret, so as not to upset her mother. She was determined too, and the frustration she had always experienced at the tedium of femininity, had now been tempered into a hard resentment. A match for his own. Kenji smiled slightly, at the thought of facing Shinko again, as he touched the purple bruise across his ribs. With a sakabato, she would have broken them, with a real blade, he would have been sliced in two.
"Shinya gave you some nasty hits last time, didn't he?" asked Ota, smiling, thinking he understood. Baka. It was too obvious that he had spent so many years of his life under the protection of his sister. He was too kind to ever truly be a swordsman. Even so, Kenji nodded politely.
"Yes, it was quite a fierce fight." It was probably fortunate that Shinya hadn't returned to the dojo since that night. He would know immediately that the bruise was not from any attack that he had landed, and he would say it too, as a fool who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.
"SHINKO!" Kenji shut his eyes as Shinya's voice bellowed around the room. speak of the devil… Shinya strode into the room, his black hair a dishevelled mess around his tanned face and chestnut brown eyes. He spotted Kenji immediately, and made a beeline for him. "Hey, Kenji-kun, have you seen Shinko? Haha said she'd run out, and she pinched one of my shinai, so I thought she'd be here."
"I haven't seen Shinko-san in several days. She hasn't come into this dojo since Sanosuke-san came over, a few nights ago."
"Did she dump you?" Shinya asked, smirking. "She was too good for you anyway. Shinko deserves a nice, normal guy who'll take proper care of her."
"No, she needs someone who understands her, and is willing to let her fight. If Tsubame-san got Shinko-san angry enough, then you might have to look beyond Tokyo to find her."
"No way," Shinya said, tapping his shinai, "she'll be back by dinner. I'm just looking so that haha won't worry. I'd much prefer to finish our duel. I've found somewhere we can fight uninterrupted; the big tree by the river."
"I have other things to do." Said Kenji, turning away from Yahiko's son. The bruise across his ribs was still irritating him, slightly, and it was always more entertaining to make Shinya stew for a few days... He wondered if Shinko truly had left Tokyo, and if so, where she was going. He felt a slight pang of regret; it would have been interesting to fight her again…
Almost unbidden, the image rose to his mind; Shinko, running towards him, kimono flapping, and obi untied, her cheeks red from exertion, as she ran towards him, and that irrepressible energy she and Shinya had inherited from their father, shining from her face. This time the faint smile that touched his blue eyes was one of genuine affection, even a little warmth…wherever she was, he wished her luck.
"Well fine then, if you're too scared, I guess I can give you a while to prepare. I'll meet you there at noon on Saturday. That'll give you plenty of time..."
"Okay, fine. Now go away, you're in the way." Kenji turned back to Ota, raising his shinai again
*****
Myojin Shinko looked up at the clear blue sky, and smiled. Dressed in Shinya's yukata, with shinai tied across her back, she faced the world beyond Tokyo with nothing other than sword, clothes, and the small amount of money she got from selling the hated obi. Chichi would understand, Kenshin-san, and Uncle Sano definitely would, and haha would accept it. Shinko shrugged, stretching out her neck, and rubbing the back of her head. For now, she was free, she could wander where she wanted, living by the creed of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, and Kamiya Kasshin. Once again, there was a rurouni wandering Japan.
*****