Chapter 12
Words left unsaid
January 3, Meiji year 30 – 6 months later
Kenji woke up and rubbed his eyes. His breath floated away in small clouds. He chanced a foot outside the warmth of his futon. He retreated swiftly and shivered. Courage! He flung the covers off and rushed to dress himself up. His clothes were cold doing nothing to appease his quivering body. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and grabbed his bokuto before sliding the door open. He sheltered his eyes with his hand. Two inches of snow had fallen overnight, covering the courtyard with a pristine carpet that shimmered under the morning rays. Kenji slipped on his waraji and took a few tentative steps. He couldn't remember the last time fallen snow had stayed in Tokyo. He looked at the plum tree. The winter had been uncommonly warm, allowing an early bloom. Pink blossoms and flakes mingled on the branches. He took a deep breath, taking in the cold scent in. Days like this made him grateful for his early practice.
He nipped around the kitchen to see what was for breakfast. He found Tsubame and her round belly busy above a pot of miso soup. Dried fish and tsukemono had been set aside. He helped himself to a few slices of takuan.
"The bath should be ready by the time we're done with breakfast," she said, in a chirpy voice.
He grunted and reached for the dried fish. She slapped his wrist with the shamoji.
"You'll eat at the table or not at all," she threatened with a smile. He backed away.
Pregnancy suited the young woman. Her face now had a roundness that soften the rough edge of a childhood spent working. She glowed and had acquired an overall positive mood that uplifted their little family.
"You shouldn't carry this!" chastised Yahiko, entering the kitchen. He tried to take away the pot for her hand but she avoided him with rehearsed skill. Tsubame's pregnancy had turned the man into a mother hen. The young woman had become an expert had deflecting the unnecessary care.
"Off you go, you two. You can carry those plates. Come on!"
The trio sat at the kotatsu. Two hibachi had been lit up to provide more heat. Despite her husband's protests, Tsubame had insisted on opening the shoji to admire the snow covered garden.
"Remember how Kaoru used to hate the snow?" mused Tsubame.
"It makes the pupils excitable. Not to mention the fact that they always manage to get some on the floor," rejoined Yahiko, his mouth full.
Tsubame nodded.
"Did Kenshin like snow?"
Kenji looked up from his bowl to see the couple stare at him.
"What?"
"Your father, did he like snow?"
They'd taken to asking him questions about his father after learning of Ai's existence and of the funds he had left the estranged siblings. He wasn't too sure why but he had a feeling Megumi was behind it. Something about reconciling himself with his father, no doubt. He thought it ironic that they should ask him about a man they knew so much more about than he. He searched his memory.
"He liked to look at it fall, I think. But sometimes it felt like he wasn't really seeing the snow in front of him; he was seeing something completely different."
He gave them a look, opening the table for them to discuss as to why this was. They immediately changed the subject. This was the strategy he'd devised; each of his answers lead to a veiled question about Kenshin's past. It never worked, but at least they left him alone.
The sound of the gate opening and closing distracted them from the uncomfortable conversation. Sanosuke walked in their field of vision. His face was reddened by the cold and, for once, his clothes were fastened properly.
"Kenji! It's here!"
He clambered up the engawa, barely pausing long enough to take off his waraji.
"Good morning to you, too, Sano." said Yahiko in a sarcastic voice.
The man ignore him and sat at the kotatsu, nearly knocking over the hibachi hidden underneath. He brandished a piece of paper, slapped in on the table and slid it across to Kenji.
"I got here just as the mail was being delivered."
The young man's heart beat fast. This was it. The moment of truth. Fingers trembling, he picked up the letter.
16 October, 1897
Penningcox Park
Yorkshire
My dear Mr. Himura,
I pray you will forgive my forthcomingness in expressing my joy at receiving your favour. I do however regret that such sad tidings are to be the foundation of our acquaintance. Please accept my most sincere condolences. Your late father was very much cherish by all of us and his passing brought us much sadness. I thank you dearly for joining your likeness. Many years have gone since I last lay eyes on your dear father and yourself. If I may be so bold, I dare say you have grown into a fine young man, much like your father at your age. You have inquired as to the nature of our relationship. Truth be told, its complexity deserves the recounting of tales I do not dare put down in writing. At the very least, I can assure you that myself and your person share no blood ties. The same may not be said of my daughter, as I believe you have already deduced from the photographs you possess.
If I may be so forward, I would like to formally invite you and any companion of whom you judge the presence necessary to join us here at Penningcox Park or at our London residence, the season dictating. It would be mine and my family's pleasure to count you as a friend. Please know that I understand the magnitude of such an undertaking, having undergone it myself many years ago. I pray you will forgive my forwardness in joining the necessary funds for your travels. Were you to decline our invitation, please use them as you see most fit.
With Sincere Regards,
Iribe Yumiko
P.S.: I pray you will forgive the delay in my response. The residence at which you favour was sent is no longer part of our estate. Please do send your reply to the enclosed London address.
Kenji flattened the piece of paper on the table and looked out at the snow covered courtyard. His companions started at him eagerly. What a convoluted way of saying nothing, he thought.
"That woman is well-educate," noted Yahiko in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.
Tsubame nodded in agreement.
"That level of Japanese… No one write like this anymore…" she replied, skirting around the question that was on all their lips.
Sanosuke had no such qualms.
"So... Are you going to go to England?"
xxxx
Kenji closed the lid of the steamer trunk. No matter how many times he reorganised it, he just couldn't feel at ease. He had long debated whether he should go to England or not. His first impulse had been to refuse the invitation. Tsubame and Yahiko were going to need help around the house once the baby arrived. The couple had been adamant that he go; the only reason he hadn't returned to Kyoto was because he'd been waiting this letter. Now that it had arrived, his only two choices were to go back to Hiko Seijuro's hut or to go to England. Kenji had then observed that Hidaka-sensei needed him around to close Kenshin's succession. Sanosuke had pointed out that the man would find him wherever he was in Japan and that seeing Ai in person might even help the lawyer speed the process along. Ultimately, Megumi had appealed to his desire to learn more about Kenshin. Here was someone who seemed to know a lot and who hadn't been sworn to secrecy. Absolved of all responsibility, Kenji had had to concede that he was curious enough to undertake the journey.
If they had all insisted he go, they had all refused to let him do so alone. With the child on the way, Yahiko and Tsubame had been eliminated as potential companions. Kenji would have liked Megumi to come along but someone had to take care of the clinic. Hidaka-sensei's name had been raised but Kenji had categorically refused. It had soon become clear that Sanosuke was the only viable option. Having worked undercover for the police for the last few months, he needed to make himself scarce; the timing couldn't have been more perfect. And so it had been decided.
Now, on the eve of his departure, in his small Yokohama hotel room, he could feel his resolve slowly melting away. People died at sea all the time, didn't they? What if he got sick aboard the ship? What if he got to England and didn't get along with his hosts? What if this was all in vain and he learned nothing about his father? For his entire life, every detail of the man had been shrouded in a thick mystery. Why would that change?
"Still brooding?"
He started.
"Megumi oba-san!"
The woman had insisted on accompanying Sanosuke and Kenji to see them off in Yokohama. She smiled at him.
"May I come in?"
"Of course!"
He arranged the zabutons he'd kicked to the side earlier to repack his trunk. She sat in a seiza and so did he.
"Nervous?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Good. The great Onoe Kikugoro V says he always gets the jitters before he gets on stage. He says that's a sign of a great performance to come. This is your stage, give your best performance." She smiled
"I had never imagined I would ever leave Japan. I just don't know what to expect. What if this is the wrong path?"
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Sanosuke, Yahiko, your mother, your father and even I, we've all lived through hard times. We've all fought the demons of our past so you could live in a world of possibilities. This very moment is proof that we took the right decisions, made the right sacrifices. Don't allow doubt to stop you from living to the fullest."
He nodded, afraid that if he spoke, his voice would be but a croak. Anger simmered inside him laced with the feeling of guilt at not knowing what she referred to. As if sensing the turmoil, she gave him a wistful smile and reached for his hand. He jumped at the unexpected touch. She scrutinized his palm, its roughness, its calluses, and its hard lines. She enfolded his fingers in hers, gently closing his hand into a loose fist. He stared at her face, mesmerized. Her eyes were fixed on his hands, but looked as if they were seeing past them.
"You have the same hands."
He tensed. A reflex. He was nothing like his father, the old litany. She looked up and stared him straight in the eyes.
"I patched up your father so many times I lost count. I wish I could've patched up his soul. Then maybe he would have found redemption in you."
Kenji trembled. The ball of anger in his stomach churned. Megumi's words and tone were making him very uncomfortable. He feared she would break into tears again. It stoked the fire of his mixed feelings even more. Suddenly, she caught herself and let go of his hand. She got up and smoothed the front of her kimono.
"Make me a promise. Promise you'll come back in one piece."
"I promise."
She walked out, leaving Kenji feeling dazed and confused.
xxxx
Once again, Kenji couldn't fall asleep. His mind was filled to the brim with images of the ship he'd board the next day and of the three month voyage that awaited him. He slipped a haori over his yukata and stepped out of his room, intent on taking some fresh air. The smooth wood of the hallway chilled his feet. His breath materialised in the air in front of him.
On the way out, he heard voices coming from Sanosuke and Megumi's voice. He stopped. He hesitated a moment; he shouldn't eavesdrop. Curiosity got the best of him. He quietly sat down, bringing in his knees in the folds of his haori and listened.
"This is a longer voyage than any you've ever taken. Will you be alright?" she asked.
"You know I'll be fine."
"Aren't you afraid the ship will steal your soul?"
A chuckle.
"You're a real fox, you know that?"
Silence.
"Joking aside, I worry about Kenji. All that pent up rage… All that pain… Promise me you'll protect him from himself… and everything else," Megumi said.
Kenji resisted the urge to jump out of hiding place. He could take care of himself, thank you very much.
"Don't you worry."
A pause
"Megumi…"
The man cleared his throat.
"I know how you felt for him. I don't kid myself into thinking that one day you might feel the same thing for me…"
Kenji's heartbeat quickened. This was his cue.
"But if I make it out of all this alive… would you consider…?"
He didn't want to hear this. Kenji tried to get up and, his feet numb, tripped over the hem of his yukata. He plunged forward, loudly stopping his fall with the wall. The door slid open, Megumi's head poked out. He gave her an embarrassed grin.
"I was just getting water," he mumbled.
"The kitchen is in the opposite direction," she retorted.
Kenji scratched the back of his head. In the darkness of the room, Sanosuke faced away from him.
"Right. Good night then."
"Good night," replied Megumi in an amused voice. Sanosuke grunted something akin to a salutation.
As he walked back to his room, Kenji heard Megumi's laughter echo in the hallway.