A/N: Sorry for the late update, you guys. This chapter was really tough to write and, long story short, I'm tired of editing. So, here it is.
Chapter Eight: Keep Us, All Devotion, At Your Feet
"Soujiro."
Her voice came out louder than she expected, and his head turned sharply at the sound.
Tae gasped and ducked back into the shadows. At the sudden intake of breath, her vision turned spotty and her legs shook with the effort to keep herself upright. Apparently she had forgotten to breathe while she was watching. Watching Soujiro. Tae swallowed hard. She leaned against the wall and pressed her fingers between the planking, as if she could somehow force the wood to swallow her from view. The pain in her hands cleared her mind enough for a single thought: out. She had to get out.
"Is somebody there?" Soujiro called. Tae heard the water slosh and splash as Soujiro took a few steps toward the other side of the bath.
Tae's heart leapt into her throat. It would be better, she decided suddenly, if he knew she was there - so he didn't find her crouching on the ground, like a spy. She scrambled to her feet and turned her back firmly on the sounds of Soujiro's progress. "Ahh... I - " Her voice quivered. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm - I'm here. Soujiro-san, I - forgive me, I didn't know you were here too - "
She heard the soft pat-pat of water hitting the floor and she winced, knowing he was out of the bath. "Oh," he said lightly, "Tae-san, I didn't see you there."
She swallowed. "I didn't mean to, Soujiro - sorry, I didn't think - " She flinched at the mistake, her apology racing out, "I mean Soujiro-san, sorry, please forgive - "
"It's alright, you didn't see anything." And she could hear the indifference in his voice. A part of her - a distant part - was unsurprised that he seemed so unshaken. He was probably shrugging right now. Except that he wasn't clothed, so if she turned to look at him now, she would just see his bare chest -
She dug her fingernails into the folds of her clothes. The air burned against her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing. "I'm sorry. Soujiro-san, I'm so sorry - " Abruptly she lost her nerve. Tae ran for the exit, wishing she hadn't been so stupid, wishing this had never happened -
"Tae-san!" Soujiro called, and despite herself Tae paused, her hand on the door. Her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest. "The water's quite warm, so you can have it when I'm done. I won't be long, if you want to wait outside."
She didn't speak. She couldn't have, even if she wanted to. She threw open the door and rushed outside.
The icy air hit her in full force, sapping away the warmth she had managed to absorb from the few minutes she had spent inside. She gasped, and the air burned in her lungs, sending uncontrollable shivers down her spine. She staggered in the snow and came to a stop in the middle of the path, her breath clouding in the silent air.
Soujiro had been there, in the bathhouse. And she had walked in on him. How could she have known he would be in there? There was nothing she could have done. It was an accident, pure and simple, she told herself. It was no one's fault.
So then why did she feel so terribly guilty?
At least he hadn't been facing her. Tae's mind recalled the way his slim hands combed through his dark hair, letting loose drops of water roll down his neck. They joined the streaks of other droplets from the bucket as they raced across his back, the light from the lantern making them shimmer with gold -
No. Tae buried her face in the clean clothes in her arms. It felt wrong to remember him that way - she felt wrong. Like a voyeur. It's improper to think of him like that, she told herself sternly, and anyway, I wasn't meant to see him that way, so it isn't as if Soujiro was acting sensuous for me. It isn't as if he wanted me to see him to begin with -
But she had seen him - her still-racing heart was a testament to that. And she knew she wouldn't be able to forget that sight of Soujiro any time soon.
Tae considered going back to her room, without waiting for Soujiro to finish. But she knew that sleep would be pointless; after what had just happened, it would be completely impossible to still her heart and mind enough to relax. And it would only postpone the next moment that she would see Soujiro face-to-face, and Tae knew from experience that the length of time would only make the meeting that much more difficult to endure. She didn't want this - this misunderstanding, yes, that's what it had been - to ruin their friendship, fragile as it was. Everything would be smoothed over faster if she just waited for Soujiro to arrive.
But waiting also made her feel jittery. There was something almost... intimate about the idea of taking a bath after him. Of course she would already be washed and clean before she got into the big tub, and that part didn't bother her, but to sit in that water, after she had just seen him luxuriating in it -
Tae's cheeks heated in embarrassment, and she was grateful for the flakes of snow that were still gently drifting through the sky.
Too soon, it seemed, she heard the door to the bathhouse open behind her. Tae steeled herself before slowly turning to face Soujiro. His face was flushed with the humid warmth of his bath and his eyes were bright, but Tae could see nothing on his face that reflected the acute discomfort she felt at interrupting his privacy.
She spoke before he could get a chance. "Soujiro-san, if I had known you were inside, I wouldn't have intruded - "
"I know you wouldn't have, Tae-san," he interrupted her airily.
"But - " Anxiety forced her to avoid his shockingly blue eyes. He had to understand. What she had done was so awkward and unspeakably rude - how could he forgive her so easily? "But I still feel terrible," she insisted. "Do you usually come out at this hour to bathe? I'll - I'll stay in my room, I promise you won't see me again - "
"Don't worry, Tae-san," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "It'll be alright."
The next thing Tae knew, Soujiro was striding past her toward the Akabeko. Tae whirled around to look at him, her mouth falling open in shock. Was that really all he was going to say? But Soujiro, clearly oblivious to her amazement, walked up the steps and went inside. The soft hsssh of the door sliding shut jerked Tae out of her stare. She blinked a few times, listening to the silence of the snow falling around her.
Well. She supposed that was it, then. She was grateful that Soujiro hadn't drawn out strange situation, but... Tae slowly turned back to look at the bathhouse, noting how deceptively innocent it seemed against the snowy sky. But... now, overwhelmingly, all she could feel was nervousness. It was that same uneasiness that forced her hands to shake and ruined her ability to think clearly when Soujiro was present, even though he was probably at this moment halfway to his room, thinking only of sleep.
Tae swallowed and held her head high. Come on, Tae, she told herself sternly. A bath is a bath. Forget about what happened - Soujiro clearly has. And she marched resolutely up to the bathhouse and shut the door firmly behind her.
She couldn't have known that Soujiro was standing on the other side of the Akabeko's back door, an enormous smile on his face.
The day, Soujiro admitted to himself as he sat across the table from Tae at Europe House, was turning out worse than he'd hoped.
It started out rocky, which was to be expected; Tae's smile had been merely tentative when she greeted him at breakfast that morning, no doubt because what had transpired during the night. He knew she wasn't sure if he had truly forgiven her intrusion or not, which was silly, really - how could he be angry when the potential debacle had turned out so perfectly? He couldn't have planned the scenario better. To feel her watching, to sense the glow in her ki like sparks to dry tinder, made his show of splashing around worthwhile.
She had watched him. She hadn't turned away, even when common decency demanded it. True, she felt conflicted about it now, but that emotion would soon pass.
Desire ran in her now, low and muted, but it was there. He knew it, but most of all, Tae knew it. And she would be forced to recognize, if she hadn't already, that the sensual pull toward him wouldn't fade away easily.
Throughout the day she had cast shy glances his way - questioning, feeling looks. After a while he pretended to notice and asked her about it. Her dark eyes flickered to him then away, as if she weren't comfortable with his proximity. "I was only wondering... what would be appropriate to wear tonight."
Soujiro had stared at her, briefly stunned by the question. He hadn't actually considered what type of clothing to wear, but it didn't surprise him that Tae would want to know; she was a girl, after all. He tapped his chin, recalling how Yahiko had gushed about what a upscale restaurant Europe House was. So then he shrugged and said only, "how about something nice, Tae-san?"
But the sad truth was that Soujiro didn't own any nice clothing. Tae's question made him consider his blue hakama and jacket, but when he laid them out on the floor that afternoon, it was painfully obvious that they wouldn't do. The sturdy cloth was faded and nearly ragged at the hems. The seam on the left shoulder had pulled at the stitching, showing the beginnings of a hole. Soujiro had frowned down at the clothing, noting how evident the toll of five years' worth of wandering was on the fabric. He hadn't remembered that it was so worn. He knew that he couldn't wear his old clothes to the restaurant, which just left him one option: his Western-style uniform.
Tae had blinked at him in surprise when she came out of her room. Her hands drifted nervously to her obi, a dark twilight-blue against the cascading red flower print on her kimono. "Oh," she said, "I didn't think - "
"You look good, Tae-san," he interrupted, sending her a reassuring smile. "Shall we go?"
A blush colored her cheeks and he saw her swallow her objections. "Of course," she said, and bent her head in acquiescence.
On the way out, Tae spoke to Tsubame about running the restaurant in her absence, pointedly ignoring Yahiko's slack-jawed stare. "You look as though you've never seen her dressed up before," Soujiro had remarked to him, and smirked.
"Yeah, well... I mean, she dresses all nice for the Bonenkai and New Year celebrations," Yahiko said, still blinking at Tae in surprise, "but she never does much with her hair. And I've never seen her wear makeup."
"It sounds like you know her better than I thought," Soujiro said smoothly. He smirked when Yahiko whirled around to give him a fierce glare.
"Hey," he began hotly. "That's not what I - "
"Oi! Nizuno!" Urato had appeared in the kitchen doorway, his eyes nearly bulging in his head. "Hey, look at this! Tae-san's lookin' all fancy tonight!"
Nizuno hurried out and stopped as if he'd run into a wall. His face mirrored Urato's. "You clean up real nice, Tae-san!" He called.
"Yeah," Urato chimed in, "why don't you have a hot date every night so you can always look like this?"
Tae hadn't been able to fully hide the blush of discomfort that colored her cheeks. "I think I'm ready to go, Soujiro-san," she told him primly, turning her back resolutely on her gaping employees.
"Yes, Tae-san!" Soujiro smiled and trotted over to Tae's side.
Before they left, Yahiko had shouted, "hope you have a lot of fun at Europe House, you guys!"
Soujiro hadn't wondered at the comment at the time. But now, as he stared down at the crisp white linen tablecloth, Soujiro understood. I might kill him, he thought for what must have been the thirtieth time. I really might kill him.
He had been optimistic, though, as they negotiated the snowy streets to the restaurant. "Don't worry about them, Tae-san," he had told her. He watched her curl her fingers into the sleeves of her coat, hiding them from the biting wind. "You know, I think that most of the things that Urato-san and Nizuno-san say are useless."
He hadn't meant the statement to be anything but fact, but she laughed. "I... I know. You're right, Soujiro-san."
He waited a few beats and then said casually, "but you do look nice, Tae-san."
She gave him a warm look. "Thank you."
The moment they walked into the Europe House, Soujiro paused. There was something... odd about the restaurant. He took in the bold crimson paint on the walls, the polished wood paneling, and the small sparkling chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. The entire main room was filled with zashiki seating, unsurprisingly, and all the wait staff were smartly dressed young men. There was even a man waiting in a swallowtail coat, gazing at them expectantly from some sort of podium-desk five steps away. But Soujiro was certain, there was a strange feeling about the place. Something... unfamiliar. Quickly he cast out his awareness, searching for a hostile presence. He sensed nothing.
"Soujiro-san?" Tae peered at him, her dark eyes wide.
His smile snapped into place. "What a restaurant," he murmured, glancing sidelong at her. "To think that Yahiko recommended it..."
She nodded, oblivious to his quick cover. "Yes."
"Two?" The man at the podium asked as they approached.
"Yes," Soujiro told him.
He took their coats - something which Tae fought at first before Soujiro laughed, knowing it would ease the situation - and then seated them at a small table near the middle of the room. Almost immediately a sandy-haired waiter descended upon them, quickly draping a napkin across each of their laps. "Good evening and welcome to Europe House," he said, inclining his head toward them respectfully. "Shall I get you tea? Coffee?"
His Japanese was much smoother than Soujiro had expected from so obvious a Westerner, and he nodded approvingly. "Tea, if you please."
He bowed to them again and strode away. As soon as he vanished from view, Tae leaned toward Soujiro from across the table. "This restaurant is very beautiful," she told him. "Everything seems to sparkle, almost."
"It certainly seems so, doesn't it, Tae-san?"
She nodded and looked at her menu, which had been sitting beside the plate. "I'm glad I decided to pay you in advance," she murmured to herself, her eyes combing over the prices. "I don't know if you would have been able to afford this."
The frank tone in her voice twisted his smile. "You wound me, Tae-san," he responded lightly, but she was right. He wondered how Yahiko had been able to afford eating here. Or... it actually seemed more likely that Yahiko had suggested the restaurant because he'd wanted to go himself. Or because he knew that Europe House was well outside what Soujiro could afford. Soujiro tapped his fingers against the tabletop, hiding a wry smirk. Yes, that seemed like something Yahiko would do.
Then Soujiro looked down at the menu. The names of the items hadn't been translated into Japanese, and he stared at the blocky, incomprehensible English letters. "Oh," he said.
Well, that was a problem. How was he supposed to know what he was ordering? Tae had taught him some English during inconsistent late-night meetings with Tsubame, but only how to speak it, not read it.
Yahiko, Soujiro realized. Yahiko knew that Soujiro didn't know very much English, and yet he had urged him to come to Europe House, stressing how new it was and how glamorous and, he'd hinted, romantic.
And I, the fool, took him at his word, not thinking he might have an ulterior motive, Soujiro thought, staring at the menu. The first pricks of annoyance curled his lips in an absent smile. No wonder his parting words sounded so smug. I might kill him for this.
That overwhelming sense of oddness washed over Soujiro again and he glanced up just as the waiter appeared with the tea. The waiter placed the teapot and cups in the middle of the table gracefully, then pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. "What can I get for you?" He asked, nodding to them politely.
The feeling grew, writhing inside Soujiro's gut, and he sat up straighter. Where was it coming from? He looked around quickly, but saw no one who was a threat; several tables were occupied by Westerners and their families, a few more by Japanese. He sensed no threat from any of them, but still he felt on edge. He put his hand on the table, near the short steak knife that was positioned to the right of his plate. It helped, marginally, that he knew there was a weapon nearby in case he needed one.
"Soujiro-san," Tae said, and he immediately looked up. Her eyes were kind, with the smallest hint of amusement. "Should I... would you prefer if I selected something for you?"
He smiled easily at her. "I defer to your wisdom, Tae-san."
He had no idea what she ordered, but it sounded very English and very foreign. He silently cursed Yahiko again as the waiter bowed and promised to bring some honeyed rolls while they waited.
"I... hope you don't mind," Tae said quietly, her eyes flickering up at him almost shyly.
He merely shrugged."It makes me realize that I still have a lot to learn about English. I will be more diligent in my studies, Tae-san, I promise."
"You're a fast learner, Soujiro-san," she soothed. "If you had studied the language only half as long as I have, you would have been able to order for yourself."
Yahiko, doubtless, knew that too. I'll kill him, Soujiro thought as he shrugged again. "That may be so," he said cheerfully, "but it's rather unfortunate that things ended up this way - I'm not doing a very good job taking you to dinner. It's starting to seem like you're the one in the masculine role, Tae-san, not me."
She tried not to smile, but the amusement was back in her eyes. "Sorry," she said, sounding only half repentant.
"Is that all you can say?" Soujiro teased, shifting in his chair. Despite his preference for the starched, collared Western shirts, he despised Western chairs. With their rigid back and tall, cold legs of polished wood, he would much rather be seated on the ground, where he could spring to action in an instant.
"Actually..." She turned her head away, hiding her expression from him. "I just had a thought: maybe you should let me choose a restaurant next time?" Her eyes darted to his and she spoke quickly. "Only because I've lived in Tokyo for most of my life, and I know it so well. And you seem so ill-at-ease."
Soujiro looked at her and, under the weight of his gaze, she again looked away.
Ill-at-ease. That was a strange description to use for him. He hadn't outwardly shown his unease since... Soujiro thought back, but he already knew when the last time was: against the Battousai.
But that was five years ago. His control had grown exponentially since then, and he knew that he hadn't given any overt sign of his concern at the sheer strangeness of this place -
No, Soujiro realized suddenly, no, it isn't that Europe House is odd. It's not the atmosphere of the place or someone else - it's me.
I'm the one who felt ill-at-ease all along.
And it's everything about this place that made me feel that way. His eyes flickered around the enormous dining room, from the many Western guests to the ornately decorated walls, and even up to that ridiculous chandelier. Everything, from the appearance and the waiters and the menu - I'm out of my depth.
It was a poor decision, coming here.
And what a fantastic display of denial, he thought, that I didn't realize it earlier.
Soujiro smoothed his waistcoat, using the action to suppress his irritation. Alright, he had been wrong, that was true. He should have selected a restaurant that would showcase his prowess, and not one simply for the reason that it would impress Tae. It was an amateur mistake, one he imagined that Shishio would have laughed at him for.
...but it was Yahiko who suggested that Soujiro take Tae to Europe House, Yahiko who jeeringly called at them to have a good time as they left the Akabeko. When we get back, I'm going to find him, Soujiro told himself calmly, staring hard at the snowy tablecloth. And then, I'll kill him.
However, his grave lapse in judgment didn't mean that the entire evening was wasted. Soujiro glanced up at Tae, softening his eyes slightly. She was still looking away, her attention turned to somewhere to her right. "Tae-san," he called gently.
She didn't respond. "Tae-san?" He asked, a little louder, and this time she heard him. She started, turning around in her chair.
"Yes, Soujiro-san?"
"I was thinking that after dinner, if you wanted to, we might go to the river and - "
A sharp whisper caught Soujiro's ears and he paused, his head turning slightly toward the sound. Tae looked back over her shoulder to the right, staring at the table that Soujiro had torn her attention from before. At one of the larger tables nestled against the wall, a Western woman was hissing at the little girl seated beside her. The girl had her legs bent underneath her so she could reach the table - she must have been five or six, Soujiro figured - and she was attempting to carve into a cut of meat, the knife and fork gripped in her determined fists. The woman once again ducked her head to whisper in the girl's ear, no doubt to correct the girl on her table manners, and the child pressed her lips together in concentration.
Suddenly the high shriek of metal on porcelain cut the air, and the girl's mouth popped open in shock and horror. The woman grabbed the girl's chin and jerked it around to face her angrily. The other people at the table - older family members, Soujiro guessed - chuckled and sent mirroring looks of strained amusement to each other. A man who could only have been the girl's father was scowling at her over the wine glass in his hand.
This was familiar. Too familiar. Soujiro looked away and busied himself with peering into the teapot to see if it had steeped enough to pour. It was, so he slowly filled the cups that had been sitting empty between them.
Terrible families were universal, it seemed. At least the girl's family actually took her out in public to eat with them, Soujiro thought, lifting his cup to inhale the tea's soothing fragrance. That's something.
The nearby tables were steadfastly ignoring the scene, he saw, both in politeness and distain. He wished Tae would do the same, but she was watching unabashedly, eyes wide.
A waiter stopped by the girl's table and asked, in a kind but superficial tone, if he could bring them anything else. The girl's father shook her head, and filled his glass from the bottle on the table. The waiter nodded, without looking at the girl, and walked away.
The girl's mother jerked the utensils from the child's hands and pushed the dinner plate out of reach, shaking her daughter's shoulder angrily. "This is horrible, Soujiro-san," Tae murmured as the girl slumped in her chair, her head drooping until it hung on her chest. She nodded at whatever her mother was whispering to her until the woman finally turned away, her face perfectly composed.
Soujiro, too, looked away. He studied the pale red print of flowers on the cream-colored tea cup, and traced the rim of gold paint with his eyes.
"I don't know why anyone would treat a little girl like this," Tae said softly, "and in a restaurant, too, in front of all these observers."
He swallowed. He worked his jaw for a few moments, not entirely sure what he would say when he spoke. What came out was a safe, "don't watch, Tae-san."
She glanced at him quickly. "But how can I? This is..." She turned away again. "...this is so sad."
Sad. Soujiro pushed down the bitter laughter that threatened to bubble up from the base of his throat. Sad indeed. "Why?" He asked in an even voice. "Her situation is not entirely unique, Tae-san."
"Situation?" She echoed, taken aback. "This seems more than a 'situation' - "
"Does it? We do not know enough to judge them," he said blandly and took a sip of the tea. It was perfect - hot but not burning, and steeped enough that each flavor was present. He smiled slightly.
Tae said nothing, but he could feel the confusion and disappointment pulsing from within her. She turned back to look at the table. Soujiro looked away, searching for their sandy-haired waiter, but of course he wasn't in sight. He sighed, knowing things were inevitable now, so he slowly followed Tae's gaze to the little girl's table once again.
She was leaning forward in her chair and reaching for her glass of water, which had been pushed to the middle of the table next to her plate. She shot an anxious look to her mother and father, but both were involved in a conversation with the other people at the table and didn't seem to notice. Her hand gripped the linen tablecloth as she stretched out her arm, her stubby fingers just grazing the long stem of the glass.
Soujiro sensed it before it happened - a quick blink, the spike of emotions from pensive to furious. The mother whipped around, snapping a word of command. The girl jumped and twisted away, as if to avoid a blow, and lost her balance. She tumbled to the floor, tugging the tablecloth with her. Glasses toppled over, knives clattered to the floor, and food splattered off the plates. Tae gasped along with everyone else, and Soujiro sighed. He knew what was coming.
"Don't look, Tae-san," he told her again. "It will be worse for the girl if you do."
She blinked at him in surprise but turned back to look anyway. Everyone at the ruined table wore mirroring faces of frozen shock, except for the father. His eyes darted around the room, taking in all the eyes that were staring at the small catastrophe. His gaze met Tae's last, and that seemed to be the final straw. He rose to his feet and stalked to his daughter. He snatched her elbow, which Soujiro noticed she had been cradling to her chest, and hauled her to her feet. She cried out and the man shook her once, his voice a low, rapid stream of English. Then he marched her away from the table and through the restaurant, opening and slamming the front doors behind them.
Tae was sitting with her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. As a group of waiters hurried to the ruined table to offer assistance, Soujiro turned away. He sipped his tea again, and saw their sandy-haired waiter finally appear between the other tables, a bowl of rounded, brown bread rolls in his hands. He set the bowl down and promised that their meal would be done soon, never once glancing at the flurry of activity on the other side of the room. He bowed and then left, leaving Soujiro to wonder what on earth he was going to do now.
The entire dinner was turning out to be an utter nightmare. He couldn't have blamed Tae at all if she never wished to dine out with him again. So much for his romantic attempt to gain her affection. He wondered if Shishio had ever had such atrocious luck while trying to win Yumi. Or if the Battousai, however he had done it, had ever encountered eerie parallels to his past while wooing Kaoru -
No, he told himself sternly, don't think about the Battousai right now.
Clearly he had underestimated how difficult it would be to create an amorous situation for Tae. He'd have to rethink his strategy... again. Soujiro picked up a roll idly, the hard shell warm against his fingers. The scene in the bath house this morning went well, he thought clinically. Perhaps more incidents of that nature to soften her resolve? I may be attempting too much by hoping for her to love me. Perhaps her attraction and lust alone would be enough to secure her loyalty.
The girl's father walked back to the table, which now had been set with a new linen cloth and replacement table settings, and wordlessly sat down in his chair. After a moment he cleared his throat and said something in a low voice. The other members at the table laughed, and the conversation resumed. None of them so much as glanced at the little girl's empty seat, and Soujiro's eyes narrowed slightly.
Tae was quick to notice as well. "Where did the girl go?" she asked, staring at the father as he accepted a clean wineglass from one of the attending waiters. "Did he - did he leave her outside?" She looked wildly toward the main entrance of the restaurant.
"It looks like it," Soujiro said calmly, cupping the roll between his hands. He hadn't realized his fingers had been cold, but the warmth from the bread sinking into his skin was comforting. He had felt this sensation many times over the years, whether from a teacup at the top of a mountain, or the chipped bowl that he used to eat his small serving of rice as he crouched in the shadow of the storehouse when he was small. The feeling of being cold and then consoled by something so simple, so vital as food - it still stunned him, a little, each time.
"Soujiro-san."
He glanced up. Tae was looking at the roll in his hands. "Take that with you," she said, placing her napkin on the table. "We're leaving."
"We are?" He asked in surprise as she stood, brushing out the wrinkles in her red kimono. She nodded and he shrugged, getting to his feet. He dropped a few coins on the table - to pay for the tea and the roll, anyway - then followed Tae through the restaurant. The host at the podium bowed politely to them and helped them into their coats. They thanked him and left.
Outside, the snow was still falling but heavier, the wind stirring it up in a frenzy. It was not a blizzard, not yet, but the flying snowflakes made visibility more than a few steps ahead difficult. Tae trailed along the side of the building, protected from most of the weather by the overhanging eaves, and Soujiro followed slowly behind her.
She was obviously looking for the little girl, but... why?
Tae gasped and hurried to the small space between the edge of the restaurant and the next building - a shop of Western books, if Soujiro remembered correctly - and knelt down before a small huddled, shivering shape.
"Are you alright?" Tae asked in English, her voice gentle. Soujiro thrust out the bread, knowing this was why Tae had wanted him to bring it along, but Tae snatched it from his hand. She combed her fingers through the girl's brown curls, disregarding the start at her touch, and brushed the snowflakes from her shoulders. "Are you alright?" She asked again, softer than before.
The girl nodded - a lie, Soujiro knew, that had been drilled into her head by her parents. It was the same response he had been instructed to give, when he was younger.
"I saw that you didn't eat very much," Tae murmured. She took one of the girl's hands - again ignoring the flinch - and placed the roll into it. "This is for you."
For a few moments the girl waited, as if she expected the gift to be snatched away again. Then her slim little fingers closed around the roll and she pressed it against her chest, cradling the warmth against her.
Soujiro began to turn away, knowing their charity work was done, but Tae didn't move. She slid her hand against the girl's pale cheek. "She's so cold," she told Soujiro in Japanese. "Her father brought her out here without her coat."
"It must have slipped his mind," he responded quietly. It may have even been true, but Soujiro doubted it.
"Here." Tae shrugged out of her coat. She once again brushed the snow off the girl's shoulders before draping the clothing around her tiny, shaking form. "This will keep you warm."
Soujiro shook his head, though he knew that Tae couldn't see it. "They will be angry when they see her like that," he warned. "They will think she begged the kindness of strangers." Which is true, he added silently.
"So?"
"They will take the coat away from her."
"Then at least she'll be warm until then," Tae replied in an unconcerned voice. She bent her head to look into the girl's face, switching easily back into English. "Do you feel better?"
The girl nodded a little.
Tae pointed to the roll. "You should eat it," she said, "before it gets cold."
She jerked, as if she had forgotten the bread was there, and quickly bit into it. Tae smiled and curved an arm around the little girl, pulling her close. The child froze for a moment before relaxing against Tae's side. "You'll be alright," Tae told her softly. "I know you'll be alright."
The girl spoke for the first time, mumbling something they couldn't hear. "What?" Tae asked, leaning her head down to listen. The girl swallowed and when she spoke again, they both could understand.
"Thank you."
Soujiro stared at the girl, stunned at the change that had come over her. She was smiling a little now, gazing at Tae as she hungrily tore into the bread. Tae was smiling back, her hand rubbing a soothing arch across the girl's shoulders. It was something like a miracle, but Soujiro didn't believe in miracles.
It was impossible not to see himself in that girl. He was the one who had been beaten, who had taken the blame for everyone's mistakes, who had shouldered the work as his uncle's family had lived in peace. He had suffered, he had starved, and he had been made to feel as if he were stupid and useless. And then a man came who had challenged him, told him about the weak and the strong, and changed his life forever.
He had never once doubted Shishio's words as truth, absolute truth, until that day five years ago. And then, in his battle with the Battousai, he had felt his world start to crumble. Was there an alternate path his life could have taken? What would he be like now, had the Battousai come to save him, and not Shishio?
But now, as he watched Tae give the little girl a quick hug, he wondered. What if neither Shishio or the Battousai came at all - what if it was Tae who had come, stopping by his uncle's farm on her way to Tokyo? What would she have said if she had seen him, bruised and bleeding, with a smile stretched across his face that was desperately pretended? Would she have given him food, given him her coat, and embraced him, just as she was that little girl?
He knew that she would.
And he had longed for that; for just once, in all his childhood, to be touched with a gentle hand. To be smiled at by her kind smile, to be told that everything would be alright - he had always, in the deepest part of his heart, wished for that. From someone. From anyone.
From her.
Soujiro took a slow, trembling breath. Suddenly he wanted, wished it could have been her, more than anything else in the world. If Tae had come to him then, his life would have been different. How could it be otherwise, when everything about her was so tender and loving, so sweet and pure? She could have changed him. She could have given him peace.
She could have been the one to give him hope.
Through blurring eyes, he watched as Tae slowly stood and turned. She paused, and he saw her expression change. She stared at him, and the concern on her face nearly shattered his heart. "Soujiro-san...?"
A hot tear coursed down his cheek. He smiled and held out his hand. "Let's go, Tae-san," he said, his voice as bright and false as it had ever been back then.
She hesitated, and her lips curved in a slight, worried smile. She slipped her hand in his. "Let's."
A/N: I've had a lot of questions about the historical facts involved in this story, so I thought I'd start a little note section at the end of each chapter. Not only will I shower you with random factual tidbits, but also with random other RuroKen stuff I've found in my research!
-Tae's red flowered kimono: The blossom is actually a camellia (also known as tsubaki in Japanese), a winter flower. But Soujiro never bothered to learn much about plants, so of course he wouldn't be able to identify it.
-Tae wearing makeup: In the manga, in the character spotlight for Tae, Watsuki stated that he chose not to have Tae wear makeup because it might make her seem too much like Megumi. Which I always thought was odd - Megumi and Tae aren't alike at all. But I decided that Tae, who usually wouldn't have much use for makeup, would totally put some on to try and impress Sou. :3
-Europe House: At this point in Japan's history, Western culture is like oil to Japan's water - they aren't mixing. But because of the large influx of Westerners into the country - especially in Tokyo, the new capital and hub of growing Western ideas - restaurants and hotels built specifically for Europeans popped up everywhere. Europe House basically represents one of these, which makes the fact that Soujiro took Tae there pretty daring on his part.
Also, you guys may or may not have heard, but they've announced the casting choices for the live action RuroKen films that are going to deal with the Kyoto arc - including the actors for Aoshi, Misao, Shishio and Soujiro! :D More info on my profile page, if you're interested.
Thank you so much for reading! I'm so grateful for everyone who reads and reviews - it definitely keeps my muse alive. So if you liked it, let me know!
