Disclaimer: all character rights belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha etc. This is a fictionalized account based in part on historical facts.
MEIJI KEIKAN ROMANTAN
Chapter 2 – A Shinsengumi Captain of the Meiji Era
* There are various flashbacks and scene changes in this chapter. Apologies for any confusion, but the dates and places are labeled at the beginning of each section.
= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Tokyo, Bunkyo Ward =
It was unusual, thought Mishima Eiji, to see his foster mother lost in daydreams. Fujita Tokio was seated on the engawa, the screen doors to the main room open to the bright, early summer day. She had been arranging the blue irises that she had picked from the garden, but once she had settled on the design, she had lapsed into deep contemplation. For the last while, she resembled a statue as she stared at the finished display with unfocused eyes.
In the back courtyard, Eiji picked up the spinning top that he was playing with and rewound the rope around its stem. Tsutomu, seated beside his mother, gurgled happily as Eiji whipped the toy into action. He deftly used the rope to make the top jump onto the palm of his hand without losing its momentum, causing the toddler to bounce with excitement. The older boy looked at Tokio again, hoping she had seen his trick. He frowned when he saw that she was still preoccupied by something that only she could see. It was already mid-morning and they were supposed to begin their lessons – she was normally a stickler for time.
"Tokio-san," he called out to her with a mix of unease and impatience.
"Oh, I'm sorry…. My mind was elsewhere." She blinked rapidly as she was brought out of her trance. She placed the ikebana in the tokonoma and stood back a few paces to assess her handiwork. Satisfied with the result, she smiled at Eiji. "Thank you for waiting, we'll begin in just a moment."
Eiji handed the spinning top to Tsutomu, who babbled his delight, and stepped inside the house. He glanced up at his guardian, trying to guess what she had been thinking about. When he saw her bite her lower lip with a wistful look, he presumed that she was anxious about her husband.
"You shouldn't worry so much," Eiji stated. Tokio tilted her head questioningly at his words. "Fujita-san will be alright. Himura-san is with him, and he's very strong."
Almost a week had passed since he had arrived in Tokyo and Eiji had started to regain some of his natural boldness. He had always been a spirited, forthright child, and having perceived this, Tokio encouraged him to speak his mind. At times, however, his straight talk could backfire. Tokio gave a small chuckle at his attempt to reassure her, although she appreciated the sentiment.
"Eiji-san, thank you for your concern, but I'll have you know that my husband is second to none as a swordsman." She cleared away the discarded leaves and bits of stalk, wrapping them in waste paper. "Indeed, he's the one cleaning up the mess that Ishin-Shishi like Himura Battousai left behind," she added archly.
"Ah I didn't mean anything against Fujita-san," Eiji hastened to make clear, turning red. "I just meant that he's got strong allies."
"It's alright, I know you meant no offense." Tokio smiled at him again. "I'm just a little touchy when it comes to his pride."
"Well, you shouldn't worry so much," Eiji repeated with an impish air. "You'll get frown lines."
"My, aren't you a cheeky one today!" Despite Tokio's chiding, she was glad to see that Eiji was recovering his spirits. "And I'll have you know, I wasn't thinking about my husband." At least, not directly, she told herself. "I was actually thinking that I need to go to Itabashi over the next couple of days. It's far though, over an hour by foot, and I'm not sure that you would care to accompany me."
"I'd like to go – I don't mind walking and it's interesting to see new places," Eiji replied.
Everything about Tokyo was fascinating to him. So far, Tokio had taken him to the University of Tokyo, to Ueno Park, and to Asakusa Sensōji. That was where she had bought him the spinning top, in one of the shops that lined the streets from the Kaminari-mon to the popular temple. The hustle and bustle of the city and down-to-earth vitality of the 'Edokko' made him feel as though every day was a festival.
He was settling into life at the Fujita household day by day. He still suffered from nightmares and the haunted look in his eyes never quite disappeared, but when he saw something new and interesting, his face lit up in the same way as any boy his age. He played patiently with Tsutomu and had developed a fast bond with the dog, Muku. He helped with chores around the house (Tokio was a fastidious woman and liked to have things just so), and he was also studying daily under her careful tutelage. The woman was strict about certain things: cleanliness, orderliness, and education. She had probed Eiji about his past schooling; he had told her that there were no teachers in his village and that he had been prevented from attending classes in Numazu for the past two years. He needed to be tutored before he could join the local school. Eiji had been taken aback by how earnest she was about the matter – after all, he was just the son of a farmer.
"Eiji-san, the son of a farmer became one of the greatest samurai in the country. Do not sell yourself short."
"It's important to be strong, but it's more important to be smart. Look at Kenjirō-san – why, a decade ago, the people of Aizu were disgraced and humiliated, but through his efforts and dedication, he now has a prestigious position such that nobody would look down on him."
Yamakawa Kenjirō was not the only example she cited; it seemed she had a friend in Kyoto, Yamamoto Yae, who had helped her husband found a university there, and a cousin of hers, Takamine Hideo, was currently studying abroad in the United States of America. Eiji acquiesced and he did not complain, and in fact he was grateful for the time and effort that she was putting into teaching him. For Tokio's part, it was obvious that Eiji was a smart child, with sharp wits and a quick grasp of new information. For this reason, she was determined to push him, so that he might have a better chance at life than his unhappy past would indicate.
As he set out his abacus (they always began with arithmetic), he asked Tokio,
"Why are we going to Itabashi?"
The wistful look returned to Tokio's eyes and she bowed her head slightly.
"I will be tending the grave of Commander Kondō Isami of the Shinsengumi." Eiji's eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise. "He was executed at Itabashi ten years ago this month, but it was only two years ago that some of the former members were able to build a proper grave for him." Eiji nodded, at a loss for what to say; it was not an answer that he could have anticipated. "You don't have to come with me…." Tokio added gently, aware that the boy might be discomfited.
"No…. I'd rather go," Eiji replied firmly. 'Tokio-san shouldn't have to go on her own,' he thought to himself. "And maybe you can teach me more about the Shinsengumi?" Ever since he had learned about Fujita Gorō's identity, he had been curious about the man's past. It would afford him a natural opportunity to find out more without appearing too nosy.
"I'd be happy to tell you their story," Tokio seemed genuinely pleased at his interest, "but now, we must concentrate on your studies. Your abacus skills are coming along well but your writing needs a little more practice."
Eiji sat down obediently in front of the desk and diligently applied himself to the day's lessons. In a way, it was therapeutic: every time he arrived at the correct answer to a problem, he felt a sense of accomplishment, and the more occupied his mind was, the less time he had to dwell on his misfortunes. That was another reason why Tokio insisted that he begin studying right after his arrival in Tokyo.
"Do not let sorrow defeat you, but carry it with dignity. Do not curse your future by cursing the past, but accept the past in order to face your future. It will be a struggle, but you are brave and you are strong."
Perhaps it was because he acknowledged that Tokio understood his pain that he did not dismiss her statements as mere platitudes. At night, when the tears still flowed and the pain still rent his chest, he nevertheless thanked Fujita Gorō and Tokio for having given him a new lease on life.
= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Kobe =
Yamakawa Hiroshi grinned as he approached the police training quarters and heard the hearty shouts of men practicing kendō kata. The doors to the hall were open, and he was just about to step inside when a sword materialized with a flash, barring his way.
"You weren't thinking about stepping inside, still wearing your boots, were you?" A low voice drawled.
A shiver ran down the back of Yamakawa's neck, but his grin returned when he saw that the blade was turned away from him.
"These boots are a hassle to take off and put on again. I figured you might make an exception for officers in uniform."
"Think again," Fujita Gorō growled. "You and your brother, you're both complete idiots when it comes to adopting western habits."
Yamakawa looked down at Fujita's feet and sniggered. It was quite odd to see Fujita wearing his police uniform, with his bare feet sticking out from the cuffs of his trousers. He was the only one in the hall not wearing the traditional hakama and protective gear.
"Ahou." Fujita snorted, and casually shifted the weight of his sword in his hand. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I came to check up on my subordinates, to make sure you weren't bullying them." Yamakawa sat down on a stool to pull off his boots.
"You're telling me that you sent me weaklings who could easily be bullied?" Fujita raised an eyebrow.
"Hah! You and your smart mouth, eh, Lieutenant Inspector Fujita? Show a little respect for a lieutenant colonel of the Imperial Army." Yamakawa lined up his footwear outside the door, relieved that his socks were clean and did not smell.
"I respect you well enough, Colonel. It's what stopped me from physically running your foppish brother out of my house the other day." Fujita sheathed his sword.
"Hehe, what did he do this time?" Yamakawa chuckled at the thought of his younger brother causing mischief.
Fujita regarded the shorter man coolly.
"He brought Tokio roses."
"Ahaha!" The older Yamakawa brother found it quite hilarious. "He might be a fop, but Kenjirō's definitely got guts."
"Hmph." Fujita turned his attention back to the other men who had paused to observe the visitor. "I don't recall telling anyone to stop," he called out in a severe tone.
The men hastily resumed their practice; although they all had questions about the relationship between the two superior officers, Fujita was liable to increase their drills just for asking.
"Hey Suzuki!" Yamakawa called out to a young man. "Don't let these police goons get cocky! Show your army pride!" The man pushed back his opponent fiercely, spurred on by his words.
"Oi Ishihara!" Fujita barked at Suzuki's partner. "Are you going to let these army punks forget who had to bail them out during the Seinan War?"
The tension heightened throughout the practice hall and the sparring continued with increased urgency.
"It looks like you've put a good group together." Yamakawa nodded as he surveyed the assembled men. "Subjugation Force, aye?"
Fujita hesitated before he answered.
"They'll have to do." He met Yamakawa's eye and tightened his lips. In this Meiji era, when the samurai's katana were disdained as outdated weaponry, this was what passed for first-class swordsmanship.
"And you still can't tell me what they'll be subjugating." Yamakawa squinted slyly.
"Let me know when you have clearance from Minister Yamagata," Fujita shrugged off the inquiry. "And bring a good bottle of saké to my house." It was the kind of tale that was best told over drinks, after the successful completion of the mission.
A fortnight ago, immediately after Fujita had been granted full authority over the anti-Shishio operations, he had issued a request for the best swordsmen in the police force and military to be assigned under his command. At first, the army had been reluctant to comply with the police officer's demand; they resented being kept in the dark about the purpose of the mission as well as Fujita's presumed authority. However, Yamakawa Hiroshi had intervened on behalf of his friend, and a few days ago, a company of select soldiers had presented themselves for duty in Kobe. Fujita's aim was to create a unit specifically to combat the Juppongatana, purportedly an elite hit squad within Shishio's organization. He had conducted the trials himself and was now overseeing their training. Yamakawa, having facilitated the transfer of personnel, had stopped by for one last chat with Fujita before returning to his regular command.
"Well, I shan't worry too much about you," Yamakawa sighed. "Though a part of me wishes that I could join you. I can't remember the last time I fought with a sword."
"It's just as well that you're not a part of this. You're a better dancer than you are a swordsman." Fujita smirked at his own jest: one of Yamakawa's most famous feats in battle was having led a company of soldiers disguised as lion dancers through enemy lines into Wakamatsu Castle during the Battle of Aizu.
"Hey! Who do you have to thank for getting you into the castle back then, hmmm?" Yamakawa retorted.
"In any case, it's not a matter for the Imperial Army." Mobilizing the military to fight against Shishio Makoto, so soon after the end of the Seinan War, would only highlight the weaknesses of the Japanese government, especially after Ōkubo Toshimichi's assassination. "And besides, you're a strategist, not a foot soldier."
Yamakawa cocked his head with a pensive look towards Fujita.
"You know, I don't expect special treatment from you…."
Those words caught Fujita off guard, and for an instant, he felt his heart constrict in his chest. Unwittingly, the image of a different, ever-smiling man rose to mind. Inhaling deeply, Fujita gathered his thoughts, and keeping his voice level, he spoke.
"When have I ever shown you special treatment? Of course, if you're willing to serve under me –"
"Not a chance." Yamakawa cut him off, and Fujita smirked again. "I swear, not a damned iota of respect from you. I'm surprised half these men haven't run away already," he muttered. "I presume your skills haven't rusted over the years," he added wryly. He absentmindedly cradled his left hand as he turned back to watch the training. The army officer had lost the use of it after being injured during the recent war, and his former comrade knew that he would never seriously wield a sword again.
"If they had, I wouldn't be in charge," Fujita answered. There was nothing flippant about his response; he fully realized just how much was riding on the outcome of this mission and he was not one to take the responsibility lightly.
Frankly, none of the men in the unit would have ranked at the top of the list of swordsmen that Fujita had encountered over the years. He had already concluded that the best officers in the unit would be no match for the young man called Seta Soujirō. Even allowing for the fact that Seta was Shishio's right hand man, Fujita would have to count on the rest of the Juppongatana being not nearly so formidable. Fifty men in the unit would allow for odds of five against one in the coming battle; between himself and Himura, they would have to deal with Shishio and Seta. It was an old, familiar exercise for the man formerly known as Saitou Hajime, Third Captain of the Shinsengumi. After all, the Shinsengumi had specialized in close group combat, seeking superiority in numbers in order to protect the peace of Kyoto.
Yamakawa watched as Fujita rejoined the practice, taking on groups of five in his demonstration (it was as close as they would get to real combat training). Although the former general of Aizu had fought alongside many famous men over the years, there were few he would name in the same breath as the man who had been dreaded as 'Miburo'. He could not help but marvel at the expertise and raw talent on display as Fujita adroitly bested all comers, pointing out the flaws in their approach and coordinating their attacks even as he parried their blows. Yamakawa knew that the men must all have speculated about his background, and the thought made him smile nostalgically. How long ago it seemed that he had first been introduced to the Shinsengumi, by his childhood friend, Takagi Tokio.
And although Fujita Gorō was not a sentimental man, he would have to admit that this kind of recruitment and training brought back memories of a bygone era, of when he had had a different name, and had first shouldered the burden of his ideals….
= Ganji Year 1 (1864) – Autumn – Kyoto, Mibu =
Okita Souji ran like a swift breeze across the courtyard of Mibu Temple towards the practice hall. He grinned as heard the energetic shouts of eager recruits ringing out into the air, and hastily kicking off his footwear, he jumped up onto the outer corridor. He was about to dash into the hall when he was halted in his tracks by a shinai that came whipping out from behind the door.
"You weren't thinking about stepping inside, covered in muck, were you?" Saitou Hajime drawled.
Okita beamed at him, not in the least bit perturbed by the bamboo weapon pointed at his throat.
"I'm sorry I'm late! Tamesaburō's new ball got stuck in the reeds down by the river bank."
That explained the mud splattered all over his hakama, but it did not excuse his lack of etiquette, and Saitou did not withdraw the shinai.
"You're late to the 'first practice' because you were busy playing with the Yagi brats? Ahou. Get your priorities straight." Saitou nodded towards the top of the hall, where Hijikata Toshizō and Kondō Isami were seated.
While Kondō was trying to hide a smile at Okita's appearance (the commander was always too soft on the favorite disciple of the Shieikan, according to the others), Hijikata's face had become dangerously dark and one could virtually see the vein throbbing on his forehead.
"Ahaha…." Okita's laugh fizzled out as he realized that Hijikata would not let him off lightly for his most recent violation.
"Tardiness and defilement of the dojo: would that be considered dishonoring the way of the samurai?" Saitou asked rhetorically. The Shinsengumi Charter was an unrelenting code, and to bring shame to one's standing as a samurai was punishable by 'seppuku'.
"Ah, I'll go change!" Okita drew a deep breath and shouted out to the crowd. "I am Okita Souji, First Captain of the Shinsengumi! I'll be right back to conduct the sparring session, so please make sure you're warmed up and ready!" With that, he ran off, leaving a stunned silence in the hall.
Within seconds, however, the murmurs started.
"That was Okita Souji?"
"I heard that he was a young, but he doesn't look like much."
"That's the famous First Captain?"
"Who said you could stop!" Hijikata yelled, and the men all jumped to attention. "Fifty more swings!"
When Okita reappeared a little while later, clean and proper, the men studiously ignored him for fear of the Demon Vice Commander. The captains overseeing the recruitment had already begun picking out the most promising candidates. Ever since the Ikedaya Incident that summer, the Shinsengumi's reputation had spread far and wide and the number of hopeful applicants had increased manifold. It was heartening proof of the progress that they had made over the year and a half since their arrival in the Imperial City. What had started out as a rag tag bunch of barely two-dozen men now boasted over a hundred members organized into highly efficient squads. Of those who sought to join, only a select few were granted entry – there was no place for half-hearted men in this pack of wolves. Most of them were sent home, with instructions to try again when they had improved their skill. There were inevitably some who would object, claiming to be the highborn son of some prestigious samurai household or to have some notable connection to the Bakufu; they would be directed to try their luck with the Mimawari-gumi, which emphasized such things as birthright over prowess.
Okita took his place alongside the other executive members and Nagakura Shinpachi quickly filled him in on the proceedings. This was a 'first practice' for the recruits and all that remained was for the captains to administer the final exam. It used to be that the more hot-blooded captains fought over the order in which they took part; over time, it had become standard procedure that they play 'janken' to establish the lineup. However, in the case of master swordsmen, for whom being able to read an opponent's movements was a matter of course, even a simple bout of rock-paper-scissors was fiercely contested. It was quite a sight to see the so-called Wolves of Mibu engaged in a terribly serious version of child's play.
"Okita! No fair – that was a slow move!"
"What was that?! You can't play half-scissors, half-rock, Harada-san!"
"Dontcha know, Toudou? This is a pistol! Bang bang!"
After numerous draws and accusations of cheating, Okita emerged victorious, as he often did. To both Saitou's and Nagakura's annoyance, by some fluke, Harada was to go second. A well-timed growl from Saitou was meant to intimidate Toudou, and it did the trick – but Nagakura seized the opportunity and won the third round instead. The next time, Toudou resolved to stand his ground and beat Saitou to fourth place. Saitou gave a loud 'tsk' of frustration.
"Serves you right, Saitou-kun." Nagakura scoffed at him. "You can't bully Toudou that easily."
Saitou glared at his fist, which had lost to Toudou's 'paper'. He had never been one for childish games, and it was galling that this had cost him the privilege of fighting the best newcomers.
As Okita faced off against his opponent, a hush descended over the crowd. Those who might have underestimated him because of his youthful demeanor quickly realized their mistake as he masterfully led the challenger in a graceful dance around the hall. It was apparent to all who had control over this match. Okita was in his element as he directed the steps, both his own and his opponent's, and so natural were their movements that one would have assumed that it was carefully choreographed instead of an impromptu meeting of the minds. He had chosen his partner well; among all the candidates, this man showed the most talent, otherwise he would not have been able to keep up with the First Captain.
"I'm glad to see that Okita-kun is feeling better," Nagakura spoke quietly to Saitou. "He had us worried for a while."
Saitou threw a sideways glance at the Second Captain. Although only Okita and Saitou knew that Okita had passed out during action at the Ikedaya, it had been obvious to those that knew him well that he was in ill health. For the remainder of the summer into the autumn, he had been forced to see a doctor periodically and to take time off for bed rest. However, it was not easy for a man like Okita to lie idle while others carried on with their duties. And so, he pushed himself, refusing to accept the prognosis of his ailment, or if he did accept it, he refused to be bound by it. This, Saitou knew. However, he also knew that were he in Okita's position, he would be doing the same.
"Hmph. Does he look like someone we need to worry about?" Saitou jerked his chin towards the sparring pair, and the pure joy that was expressed throughout his comrade's body belied any of their misgivings.
The match was drawing to a climax. Having sensed that his opponent was tiring, Okita now changed his pace and decreased the speed – inversely, the menacing pressure increased. The point of his shinai seemed to sway, and suddenly, in the barest fraction of a second, a powerful crack resounded throughout the hall. A spontaneous cheer of approval rose up from the audience as the bout ended in spectacular fashion.
"Men! Ippon!" Hijikata called out.
Nagakura and Saitou both let out the breath that they had involuntarily held and neither could suppress their grins.
"You're right," Nagakura said admiringly. "At least, he shouldn't expect any special treatment from us."
The recruit had taken off his headgear and was bowing deeply to Okita with a look of sheer awe in his expression. Okita humbly deflected the praise as he handed him a towel.
Harada's challenger was an older man and quite experienced. He managed to evade the longer reach of Harada's spear, and carefully, patiently waited for an opportunity to step into his sphere of attack. Harada's spear seemed to grow and shrink as if by magic; for all that he was the resident clown of the Shinsengumi, there was no refuting his skill with the weapon. For a swordsman, fighting against a spear-wielder was said to be three times as taxing as against another swordsman. The opponent fended off Harada's attack for a while, but ultimately, Harada landed his blow. The man looked frustrated but also impressed; the Shinsengumi's famous captains were living up to their reputations.
When it came to Nagakura's turn, in a twist, the recruit declared that he would like to face the Second Captain with a spear. Nagakura looked askance at the young man.
"You do realize that I've trained frequently with Captain Harada – if that's what influenced your request." The implication was that there would be no point in facing him with a spear unless he was at least as capable as Harada.
"I am a disciple of the Hōzōin-ryū, and my first weapon of choice has always been the spear."
Nagakura was a gracious man and he obliged. However, whatever advantages the spear's long range might have had over the sword were negligible against the Second Captain. After a long moment during which the two gauged each other, the instant that the challenger launched his attack, Nagakura's shinai deflected the strike and his counterattack knocked the man off his feet. If there was any doubt left in the candidates' minds as to the caliber of the leadership, it disintegrated as the man fell. There was a smug look on Hijikata's face as he surveyed the hall. Quite a few seemed to have lost confidence that they could find their place among this group, and some were beginning to have qualms about their decision to join.
It was fortunate then that Toudou conducted the next exam. One of the youngest members of the group, his abilities were the product of careful training more so than inherent talent. If Okita was a prodigy and Nagakura a genius, Toudou was the one who had worked his way up through diligent practice. To the new recruits, there was a reassuring quality to his swordsmanship – it was within the range that they could aspire to if they applied themselves. Not only that, but he was a very considerate person; even as their shinai clashed, he called out encouragement to his opponent. This nature of his was what also endeared him to his fellow members; among a group of highly individual characters, his efforts to 'read the air' and to maintain a good atmosphere were appreciated by all.
As Saitou watched, he knew that the remaining participants would provide him with little amusement. While he never shirked his duties as an instructor, what he really sought for in practice was a decent sparring partner. The thought flitted across his mind that he would have to try harder at janken, but he banished it just as quickly with a scowl. There remained only one way that he could make the rest of this practice entertaining.
After Toudou's match came to an end, Saitou looked towards Kondō and Hijikata, and calmly stated,
"I'll take on the next five all together."
His words caused all the other members to turn towards him in surprise.
"Oi, Saitou, whatcha doing, trying to show off?" Harada eyed him suspiciously.
"The patrols are conducted in groups of at least five. You already know the outcome of the match should I take any of them on one at a time." This was not said as a boast but as a matter-of-fact. "This will be closer to a practical demonstration of the actual work. You'll be able to get an idea of how well they'll fight together."
Hijikata and Kondō nodded to each other; it was a convincing argument.
"Saitou, I trust you not to underestimate any opponent, but be aware of what this means for you." Hijikata fixed Saitou with an intimidating glare. Having requested the conditions himself, if Saitou were to lose, it would result in a serious loss of face for the Shinsengumi leadership.
"If I lose, feel free to demote me or assign me to grunt work, or whatever you see fit." Saitou shrugged indifferently.
"Great! Saitou-san, you can do our laundry for a month!" Okita quipped with a grin.
"I guess we're cheering on the recruits then," Nagakura joined in.
"Sounds good to me!" Harada cackled and slapped his thigh.
"Saitou-san the laundry man…." Even Toudou piped up.
Saitou curbed his urge to hit them, and instead stepped forward into the middle of the hall.
"I'm Saitou Hajime, Third Captain of the Shinsengumi." The tension in the hall was palpable. Along with Okita and Nagakura, his name was frequently mentioned as one of the strongest men of the Shinsengumi. "Consider this a practical demonstration of a patrol. Five challengers, step forward. If even one of you lands a blow, it will be considered your win."
"Saitou-sensei, excuse me for speaking frankly, but do you mean to insult us?" A haughty-looking man spoke up, aggravated by the presumption of the gap in their respective strengths.
"The Shinsengumi always work in groups. As I said, this is a practical demonstration. If you have a problem with that, you don't need to participate." Saitou stopped himself from actually insulting the man. "Five of you, step forward now, or you can all go home."
Hesitantly, one man rose to his feet, followed by another, until there was the requisite number standing around Saitou. Hijikata, acting as the referee, gave the signal to begin.
With a yell, the first man leapt forward, aiming for Saitou's head; almost at the same time, another charged from the side. However, Saitou's footwork had always been impeccable, and with a few steps, he led them into a single line of attack. Faster than their eyes could follow, they were sent flying backwards with incredible force.
"Gatotsu…!" Okita leaned forward enthusiastically.
"Ah, come on newbies! Don't be lured into his 'ma-ai' so easily!" Harada thrust his spear to mark his words.
Nagakura and Toudou sighed; Saitou really did not hold back under any circumstances. The two recruits struggled to get back up, winded and in pain.
"The streets of Kyoto are a battleground, and the enemy has hired some of the most skilled assassins in the country. Kawakami Gensai, Nakamura Hanjirō, Okada Izō – and there's the as-yet unnamed Hitokiri Battousai. When faced with an enemy of vastly superior strength, your best chance of victory is to fight in numbers." Saitou instructed the remaining three men, who were circling him, desperately looking for any kind of opening. "Control your breathing. Control every inch of your body. Be aware of your surroundings. Watch each other's actions. And attack as one."
With a yell, the men sprang towards Saitou. Sensing a chance while Saitou dodged two of the blows at once, the third man aimed for his torso, but before his shinai could make contact, Saitou threw him over his shoulder and onto the other two men.
"Didn't I tell you to control every inch of your body?" Saitou had not even broken a sweat. "You'll need to learn jū-jutsu here also." The Shinsengumi had an excellent jū-jutsu master, Matsubara Chūji, and Saitou took his instruction seriously.
"If Okita-kun and Toudou-kun are the carrots, then Saitou-kun is definitely the whip." Nagakura noted to nobody in particular.
"Yeah, and Saitou-san often doesn't fight fair. He once flicked blood into the enemies eyes to blind them." Okita commented unhelpfully from the sidelines.
"Fight to win or die trying. Once you enter the Shinsengumi, defeat in battle is not an option." Saitou addressed the candidates, none of whom dared to look him in the eye.
This was the strength it took to maintain one's position as a Shinsengumi Captain. In order to uphold the rule of law in a time of anarchy, to fight for one's ideals, it required an unwavering commitment and fearlessness. For the recruits, it was a lesson well learned; failure to live up to those ideals resulted in death, either at the hands of the enemy or by the rules of the Shinsengumi Charter.
Nonetheless, as effective as Saitou's demonstration might have been, the consequence of it was that about half of the candidates dropped out ("they would have been no use in the end," Saitou justified). And when the successful applicants were assigned to their units, a few of those going into the Third Unit begged Hijikata to be transferred to the First or Second Unit instead.
"You know you're winning no popularity contests with that personality of yours, Saitou-san." Okita laughed at his fellow captain when he brought him the news.
Saitou snorted derisively.
"Ahou. My men respect me, whether or not they like me." That much was true; the Third Unit was full of hardened warriors, and not a single one of them would think twice about following their captain's command. "Only fools would be bothered by such trivial things like popularity."
"Being popular can raise morale," Okita countered glibly. "I'm First Captain for a reason. First in skill, looks, and all-round greatness!"
"Clearly not first in smarts," came the snappish rejoinder.
"Hah! You think you're smarter than me?" Okita thumbed his nose at Saitou.
"I know I am."
Nagakura sighed as he passed by the bickering pair in the courtyard. It was a form of recreation for the two younger men, he knew, and it was not worth his while getting involved. However, Okita's next words caused him to prick up his ears.
"Saitou-san, you think you can afford to be smug and not care – that it doesn't matter whether anyone else actually likes you just so long as Tokio-san does."
Nagakura paused, looking over his shoulder. The Third Captain always gave off an aura of having the upper hand, but the subject of Takagi Tokio was a prickly one. Saitou froze for a second, though it was only for a second. He flashed a wicked smirk at Okita.
"So what? She likes me – better than you. What does that say about you, pretty boy?" A jibe of that level, he could still evade with ease.
"You mean, what does that tell you about her?" Okita chuckled darkly. "Hey there, Nagakura-san!" Okita waved Nagakura over. "What do you think?" Okita and Nagakura looked at each other, and grinned in mutual agreement.
"I think it tells us that she has terrible taste in men," Nagakura declared. "It's an unfortunate and serious flaw."
"What do you think she sees in him? Even when he makes googly eyes at her, it just looks like he's glaring."
"Maybe she was told in her childhood that boys are mean to the girls they like – so her sense of affection was warped."
"Poor lady. How do you think we can deliver her from this jerk's clutches?"
As unflappable as he was in battle, Saitou Hajime was still young, and not nearly so skilled in combatting sustained psychological attacks about his romantic affairs. He would learn in due course, but for the time being, his fellow captains reveled in having some fun at his expense. He cursed and threatened them, to little effect, for his attempts to cover up his discomfiture were about as polished as his prowess at janken.
= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Kobe =
"Take care of yourself." Yamakawa gave Fujita's shoulder a light smack as he took his leave. "And take care of my men. They're good officers." The training had ended, and Yamakawa was scheduled to return to Tokyo on a ship that evening.
"I can't promise you that they'll all come back alive," Fujita said curtly, to which Yamakawa nodded in reply. They both accepted that as men who had volunteered to fight for the sake of the country, death was unavoidable on the field of battle. Still, for all that Fujita could appear ruthless, Yamakawa appreciated that Fujita never considered his men expendable or sacrificial pawns.
"Well, try not to die – Sada-chan won't have any trouble finding a new husband if you don't come back, but I doubt I'll find him as good a drinking partner as you."
"Your concern is touching," Fujita's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What will you do if Tokio ends up remarrying your younger brother and you have to deal with her as a sister-in-law."
"Gah! Promise me you'll come back safe and sound, Fujita!" Yamakawa made a comical grimace, causing Fujita to smirk. The women of Yamakawa's household were formidable and they held a strict rein on the family; if Tokio were to join the fold, the men would be completely at their mercy.
"Ahou," came the standard reply.
"I'll check in on her when I get back." Yamakawa pulled on his jacket. "Do you have any messages to pass on?"
"Tell her not to spoil the children too much." Fujita did not need to say that he appreciated Yamakawa's consideration for his family. It required little thought to discern that Fujita's current mission entailed substantial danger, and Yamakawa would do as much as was in his power to ensure the family's safety.
"Children? Oh, the orphan boy you took in." Yamakawa had not yet met Eiji but he had heard about the circumstances from Kenjirō.
"And tell her she doesn't have to go to Itabashi on her own. I'll go with her once I return." At that statement, Yamakawa looked at Fujita thoughtfully. Fujita met his gaze, casually tapping out a cigarette from the pack.
"You know, you're a better man than most people think." Yamakawa stood up straight and fixed his belt.
"Hmph. I don't need you to tell me that." Fujita struck a match and lit the cigarette. "You better go before you miss your boat."
"See you back in Tokyo, Fujita," Yamakawa turned the handle on the door. "I don't want to have to visit your grave next year."
"Go to hell, Yamakawa-san." Fujita called out after him as he left.
It was not surprising that Yamakawa had understood the reference to Itabashi. He had been present for some of the discussions when Nagakura Shinpachi had surprised them with his proposition, about building a grave for Kondō Isami, two years ago. Fujita took a deep drag of his cigarette, wondering briefly what Nagakura was doing at that moment. Truth be told, he had contemplated enlisting Nagakura for the operation but had decided against it for several reasons. One was bureaucratic: Nagakura did not work for the government and this was a highly classified operation. Another factor was selfish: if Nagakura participated, then his chances to fight would inevitably be lessened. Though times had changed, Fujita Gorō was still a man who relished the thrill of battle. However, there was another, more closely held reason that he had only admitted to his wife. Should the worst come to pass and should he not return, then Nagakura was the only one who could carry the Shinsengumi's legacy. Two years ago, Nagakura had also talked passionately about restoring the good name of the Shinsengumi – he wanted to write a history of the organization and to preserve their story for posterity. This was not something that Saitou Hajime would ever have been inclined to do, but he acknowledged the efforts of his former comrade as something he desired himself. When Fujita first considered the necessary manpower to fight against Shishio, he had decided that Nagakura should not participate in a battle that was not his and in which they could both be killed. Also, Nagakura was married with children and had a dōjō to run in Hokkaidō. He had settled down to a peaceful life and had not bloodied his sword since he had surrendered in the Boshin War.
Tokio had agreed with his reasoning. It was one thing to assign Himura Battousai to the mission (she considered it the Ishin-Shishi's responsibility to deal with the matter in the first place), but to solicit Nagakura to take part was another.
"You know he will join you if you ask him, such is the nature of a Shinsengumi Captain. But it would be patently unfair of the Meiji government to push this burden onto him."
Besides, she had noted, Hokkaidō was currently a hotbed of foreign intrigue, and it was fortuitous that the police would have a very skilled, local agent whom they could call upon should the situation require. Fujita had been amused by that observation; even though Tokio was now every bit the dutiful wife and mother, her career at the Aizu court manifested itself from time to time.
He cast his gaze outside the window, to the sun setting in the west. He would be back in Kyoto soon, back to the city where he had made his name and found his path. Those experiences were an indelible part of him and had forged within him two immovable truths: the Shinsengumi and Tokio. His brow furrowed slightly as he thought about her. If he had thought of going to Itabashi, then no doubt, so had she. The message he had sent with Yamakawa would probably be redundant, and for the second year in a row, Tokio would be tending to the grave on her own – last year, he had been away fighting in the Seinan War. Tokio's life, and his own, were filled with too many graves. Yet, despite the gravity of all those sacrifices, it was not despair or hatred that they held in their hearts. The act of mourning was a comfort, and she bore the weight of those lives with reverence and gratitude. She knew without it being said that her husband shared her feelings, and he knew that when she paid her respects at the gravesites of his comrades, that she prayed on his behalf also. Though times had changed, he was still a Shinsengumi Captain in the Meiji era, and she was still the woman who understood him best.
= Meiji Year 9 (1876) April – Tokyo =
Tokio was in the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard Muku bark; it was one the dog used to alert her mistress to visitors. She hastily wiped her hands on her apron and took the pot off the charcoal stove, and hurried to the door. She was a little alarmed to see that the dog seemed especially cautious, her whole body on full alert, but it made sense considering the man they were expecting. She worried for a moment that the dog might act aggressively, but she noticed that while Muku was focused, she did not appear threatened. Just then, she heard a knock on the garden gate and a man's voice call out,
"Gomen kudasai!"
It was a voice that she recognized, from a distant place and a long time ago. She hastened to open the gate, and Muku gave another short bark. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of the caller.
"Tokio-san!"
"Nagakura-sama!"
There was a delighted pause, as she smiled at the former Second Captain of the Shinsengumi, who looked abashed and at a loss for words. Tokio quickly collected herself and ushered him inside.
"How wonderful it is to see you! You are most welcome to our home. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
"No, not at all – I was a little unsure of which house was yours because there's no name plaque –"
"Ah, yes, my husband refuses to put one up – he thinks it helps to keep a low profile."
"Well I hope I'm not disturbing you…."
"Nagakura-sama, please, there's no need to stand on ceremony with us. He should be returning from work soon – oh, we have been so looking forward to seeing you!"
As Nagakura stepped inside the garden, Muku gave a short yip. She had not been acknowledged, and nobody got into the house without her approval. Tokio smiled reassuringly at the man, and called the dog forward.
"Muku, Nagakura-sama is a very dear guest. Be on your best behavior."
The large white dog carefully sniffed at Nagakura's hand and gave a small wag of her tail. By instinct, she recognized that this man was similar to her master, and that he was no danger to her family. She then stepped away and went to stand by the garden gate.
"It seems as though she understands you well," Nagakura glanced back to the dog as Tokio invited him into the house.
"She's a good dog – we got her almost two years ago, after we were wed."
"My belated congratulations, by the way, on your marriage." Nagakura bowed formally and his words caused Tokio to blush.
"Thank you, Nagakura-sama. And it is good to see you looking well."
"Oh, and these are for you, just a little something I picked up on my way," he bowed again as he handed her a wrapped parcel.
"You're too kind. That wasn't necessary, but thank you very much." She bowed in return.
It had been more than nine years since they had last seen each other in Kyoto, before the outbreak of the Boshin War. Almost a decade's worth of thoughts and memories hung in the air as she showed him to the main room. As Nagakura sat down, Tokio excused herself to prepare some tea. He looked around the room and out at the garden. It was a peaceful place, such that any man could wish for, and very well kept. While there was an obviously feminine touch to the decor, there was nothing to offend the austere sensibilities of the man he had known in Kyoto.
When the lady of the house returned with a tray of tea things, Nagakura smiled at her self-consciously.
"Thank you very much for inviting me today." He had rarely been in her company on his own – there had always been a few others around during their previous interactions – and he felt somewhat self-conscious.
"I'm very glad you could make it – we were so happy to receive your letter that you were coming. And it is so far from Hokkaidō; I hope the journey was not too wearisome."
"It was a long trip," he admitted, "but I'm glad I came. I saw Doctor Matsumoto Ryōjun yesterday – he sends his regards and says to come see him again soon." For a fleeting second, a strange expression graced her face, but her smile quickly returned. He noted how little she seemed to have changed in the intervening years. "I can't believe I'm seeing you again, Tokio-san," he said with a smile as he accepted the tea she had poured for him.
She bowed her head with a smile.
"I can't believe that it's been so many years. May I ask how your family are, and about your dōjō?"
"My wife is well, and we've got two little ones now. I'm enjoying teaching also. It's not a bad life, I must say. Though I have to apologize – we men are not so good about keeping in touch."
"Well, I know the blame lies mostly with my husband." Tokio shook her head. "He's a terrible correspondent."
"Haha, and so am I." Nagakura knew it was not in Saitou's character to keep people appraised about his daily life. "Nonetheless, I was delighted to hear that you finally got married." The notice from his old comrade had been very short, a simple notification of the matter. However, coming from Saitou, it was tantamount to gushing.
Tokio blushed again; she knew that her relationship with Saitou had been an open secret among the Shinsengumi captains during their days in Kyoto, and that they had liked to tease him about it. Just then, Muku barked excitedly – her master had come home. Tokio went to the genkan to greet her husband, just as he entered the door.
"Okaerinasai mase, Danna-sama." She took his hat and sword from him as he took off his shoes. Instead of the standard reply, he asked,
"He's here?"
"In the main room. I'll bring out some refreshments." She could tell that he was eager to see their guest.
"Hot sake, if it's ready," he requested as he walked down the corridor. She nodded at him with an indulgent smile.
Nagakura looked up over the rim of his glasses at the tall, lean figure of his former comrade as Saitou entered the room.
"Nagakura-san…. Or should I call you Sugimura-san?" Nagakura Shinpachi had changed his name to Sugimura Yoshie when he had married.
"O-jama shite imasu." Nagakura bowed in greeting. " Call me Sugimura, if you want me to call you Fujita-kun."
"The name sounds weird from your mouth." Saitou sat down opposite the only other captain of the Shinsengumi who had survived the Boshin War.
"So you're really a police officer now. I was surprised to say the least to hear that you were working for the Meiji government."
"My skill set was in demand, and it seemed an obvious course of action." Despite having what some might consider a wicked personality, Saitou had always maintained a rigid code of honor and duty.
"Haha. Even back in Kyoto, I would have thought you were more suited to be a villain than a keeper of law. How appearances can be deceiving." Nagakura chortled.
"Only if you're dumb enough to be deceived," Saitou narrowed his eyes at his guest's joke.
"Hijikata-san would probably approve of you in a western-style uniform."
"Hah. For all his reputation as a 'demon', he was pretty vain."
Neither Nagakura nor Saitou were particularly talkative men, but in each other's company, it was as though no time had passed since their last meeting. There was no awkwardness, no uneasiness – it was simply a natural conversation among old comrades.
Tokio reappeared carrying some sake and light snacks. The appreciative look in Saitou's eyes did not escape Nagakura's notice; as unlikely as it was, it seemed that married life suited the man.
"So, your business in Tokyo." Never one to beat about the bush, Saitou got straight to the point after he had a cup in his hand. "What's the situation?"
Nagakura slowly took a sip of warm sake and closed his eyes.
"I saw Matsumoto-sensei yesterday, and he thinks that it's possible. Enough time has passed now that there won't be too much political opposition."
Tokio looked at her husband, who was studying their guest carefully.
"What about funding?"
"I'm hoping that I'll be able to find enough supporters, though I don't suppose it will be easy." Nagakura sighed.
"That's probably true. Not many people want to be associated with the Shinsengumi or Kondō's name, in this day and age." Saitou's voice was dry, betraying no emotion.
"Even if that's the case, I'll find a way somehow. I need to do this, Saitou-kun…." Nagakura's fist clenched. "It's not right for Kondō-san to continue to be regarded as a criminal and traitor, not after everything he did for the sake of the country. At the very least, he should have a proper grave…."
Saitou indicated to Tokio to refill their cups, and paused for a while before speaking again.
"You'll be exposing yourself to our former enemies."
"If they want to come all the way up to Hokkaidō to find me, I'll gladly welcome them anytime." Nagakura dismissed the warning. "But the Commander's honor needs to be restored."
"His honor…. Or yours, Nagakura-san?" Saitou's expression was hidden behind the hand that held the cup to his lips. Tokio pursed her lips in a wordless caution; she did not want him to aggravate their visitor, not when he had come so far and they had not seen him in so long.
Nagakura glared at Saitou for a moment, but instead of retorting, he sighed.
"For his honor, and for mine, yes." Nagakura lowered his eyes. "You know, every day since I left the Shinsengumi, I have lived with the regret that we parted on bad terms." Nagakura had left the Shinsengumi shortly before Kondō's capture by the enemy, having fallen out with the Commander over the course of the war. "I think I knew then that it would be the last time I would ever see him. But I imagined that he would die a hero's death on the battlefield – not that he would be executed like a common criminal and his head displayed for the public to ridicule."
Saitou and Tokio listened without uttering a word. All of them had regrets from the Boshin War, for actions that were beyond their control, for fates that were cruelly twisted. Yet, Nagakura's regret was particularly painful, for it was of his own making.
"So you think you can assuage your guilt by building him a grave." Saitou ignored Tokio's reproachful look and kept his eyes fixed on Nagakura.
"My guilt? No. But as his friend, and as his comrade, I think it's the least that I could do." Nagakura spoke deliberately, calmly and coolly; he had almost forgotten what it was like to deal with Saitou in person. "And I need to do this for my children also."
His last statement caused his hosts to look at him sharply, and Nagakura held Saitou's gaze steadily.
"My children are beginning to ask about my background, about my life. They are too young to understand now, but one day, I will tell them. When I do, I won't have them feel ashamed of my past. I want them to be able to hold their heads up high, and know that all that we did, we did for the sake of the country…. Don't you agree that this should be so?" This time, it was Nagakura who challenged Saitou.
"For your children?" Saitou muttered and looked away. Nagakura wondered whether it was his imagination, or did Tokio's cheeks seem pink?
"Well, if you don't want to be involved, I won't force you – " Nagakura began, but Saitou cut him off.
"I never said that, did I?" He gave a small snort. "But I'll say it again: you'll be exposing yourself to your former enemies. That's something that I can't have."
"So what are you saying?" A note of exasperation began to creep into the older man's voice.
"Just make sure our names stay out of it." Saitou reached for an ashtray and lit up a cigarette. "And you'll probably want this." He took out a sheaf of papers from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to Nagakura.
Nagakura took the sheets and looked through them quickly. It was a list of all known survivors of the Shinsengumi, with their current names and addresses. There was also a list of family of deceased members.
"Saitou-kun, this is…." His voice trailed off in disbelief.
"One of the perks of working in the police force. Should make it easier for you to rustle up some money." Saitou nonchalantly blew a ring of smoke into the air.
"We will contribute what we can too, of course," Tokio added gently.
"I…am most grateful." Nagakura bowed his head deeply, genuinely moved by the unexpected assistance. "Thank you, Saitou-kun, Tokio-san…."
"Tokio, you can probably help him out with the details." Saitou poured another drink for them both.
Tokio nodded and smiled.
"If you would allow me to, I have some experience with similar situations." She had worked tirelessly in Aizu in order to make sure that the war dead had a proper burial, dealing with the temples and local communities to make arrangements and secure gravesites.
"I don't want to trouble you, Tokio-san," Nagakura's face was flushed with emotion.
"It would be my honor to assist you, Nagakura-sama. And you are right in all that you have said, never mind his contrary attitude." Tokio frowned reproachfully at her husband. "Kondō-sensei should have a proper grave, and our children should be proud of their fathers."
Saitou stiffened almost imperceptibly at the use of the term 'our children', but it was enough for Nagakura to draw a conclusion. Tokio presently excused herself to finish the dinner preparations, and the men were left alone again.
"Saitou-kun, I'm glad I came…." Nagakura felt as though a burden had been made much lighter through the help of his old comrade.
"Hmph. I mean it when I tell you to keep our names of out of it. No records, no acknowledgements." Saitou's voice was almost a growl.
Nagakura nodded in understanding. Although he now led a quiet life, even he worried at times about threats from the past. Saitou Hajime, on the other hand, was still active on the frontlines, placing his life in danger with every mission, and must always be watchful for enemies.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure nobody ever knows how much you actually care."
"Ahou."
"Okita-kun was right, you really are a grouch with a heart of gold." No matter that Saitou could be a most infuriating man to deal with, he was nonetheless one of the best men he knew.
"That fool." There was a grudging affection in the way he said it.
"Saitou-kun, I really mean to do my best to restore the Shinsengumi's reputation, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I want to write our story, our side of events."
"You want to publish a book?"
"Yes, or at least to make a record of our history and accomplishments. We were the last and greatest group of swordsmen in our country's history. I will always be proud of that fact, even if the samurai have been cast off onto the scrap heap in this new Meiji era."
"Last and greatest? You're overdoing the theatrics."
"No, I'm not." Nagakura sipped his sake. "The Shinsengumi were samurai among samurai. And I want people to understand that."
"For the sake of your children."
"And yours too, Saitou-kun." Nagakura looked slyly at Saitou.
Saitou pointedly ignored Nagakura's comment. He would neither confirm nor deny his friend's suspicions – and in any case, it was too early to be sure – and Nagakura knew that it would be boorish to pry further.
When Tokio served them their dinner, Nagakura filled in more details about his endeavors. A proper grave for Kondō's final resting place and a memorial site for other members; it would take a considerable amount of money and organization to realize his plan. Matsumoto Ryōjun, the former personal physician to the Shogun and Shinsengumi doctor, had the necessary connections in government and now, thanks to Saitou, he had more leads on possible financial support. By the end of the meal, they were reminiscing about their days in Kyoto; Nagakura could not resist bringing up their first encounter with Tokio, which inevitably led to laughter about the second.
"And Saitou with his bloody nose! How rude was he!"
"Well, some things have not changed much, Nagakura-sama."
"The pair of you always reminded me of clucking chickens, do you know that?" Saitou feigned annoyance at their banter.
The hours flew by as they recalled one story after another, about Okita, about Harada, about all the scrapes they had been dragged into by the two troublemakers. While Saitou had been closest to Okita, Nagakura had been closest to Harada; opposites will attract, and the cool, levelheaded Second Captain had been a good foil for the exuberant and clownish Eighth Captain. It was a bittersweet night, laden with the promise of the new lives that they had been granted, the weight of past lives that they held dearly, the pain of their fallen comrades, and good wishes of those that had survived. Nagakura finally departed late in the night; they saw him as far as the garden gates, Tokio bowing and waving after their guest. The man who now called himself Fujita Gorō wound his arm around his wife's shoulders as Nagakura disappeared around the corner.
"Nagakura-sama is a good man." She had very much enjoyed his visit.
"He always was."
"And he means to do right by the Commander and his old comrades."
"Aah." He drew her in closer to him.
"As do you." Tokio leaned against him as they walked back to the house.
"Hmph, I couldn't be bothered going to so much trouble. And to think he intends to write a book too. Who the hell is going to publish a book about the Shinsengumi in this day and age?"
"Maybe not today, or anytime soon, but I for one hope that one day, people will know the truth – about the Shinsengumi, about Kondō-sensei, about all of you."
"Hah. I don't need a book written about me." It was enough for him to live out their legacy, to continue to uphold their ideals every day.
"Fufufu, you always were a difficult man to read." In the dim light of the lantern, Tokio's eyes seemed to sparkle in the darkness.
"That was a terrible joke, woman." In the dim light of the lantern, the sharp lines of his face seemed softer.
"Oh, you don't agree?" They stepped back inside the house.
"If I wasn't a challenge, would you even have taken an interest in me?" He tried to turn the questions on her.
"I was always told that I had bad taste in men." Tokio sighed with resignation.
"Tokio –" His voice dropped to a growl.
"Isn't it a shame that it wasn't Nagakura-sama who caught me outside the Koumyouji compound that night?" She teased him with a chuckle. "To think how different my life could have been – Kya!"
She was entirely unprepared when her husband picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of rice.
"I think I need to show you just how bad your taste in men is."
They had been married for almost two years, and committed to each other for over twelve; yet despite how well they had come to know the other over all that time, every day they continued to learn new things about their lives together. For all those years that they had been kept apart, they had dreamed of this life, and how fortunate for them that so far, they liked the reality better than the dream. They still had so much left to discover, about marriage, about family – and all the happiness they felt now was made that much dearer by the sorrows they had had to endure before.
= Meiji Year 11 (1878), late May – Tokyo, Itabashi =
Eiji drew closer to the woman who walked beside him as he noticed some rough-looking men leering at her. He had thought that the post town would be similar to Numazu but he had underestimated the sheer number of people in Tokyo. They were now on the outskirts of the city, where the roads were flanked by rice fields and vegetable farms, and most of the buildings were inns or bath houses catering to the needs of travelers on the Nakasendō. Post towns were well policed and trouble was unlikely, but he knew that women traveling alone or accompanied only by children were unusual, and he knew that his guardian tended to attract people's gazes. He kept a tight hold of Muku's leash; the dog seemed unperturbed by the clamor about her, trotting obediently alongside her family. If anything, the large Akita dog drew more glances than her mistress and other people on the highway gave them a wider berth than they might otherwise have done on a crowded road.
Tsutomu was fussing on his mother's back, intrigued by all the different sights. Tokio shifted his weight, and noticing that Eiji appeared tense, smiled at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I know it's far and you must be tired." She slowed her pace.
"No, I'm not tired. I just can't seem to get used to all the people in Tokyo." Eiji wondered that she was not tired herself; she was a slight woman and the day was growing hot, yet she showed barely any sign of fatigue. "Do you want me to carry Tsutomu for a while?" He offered.
"Thank you – and maybe I'll ask you to help on the way back, but we're almost there now." She fixed the strings of her hat underneath her chin. "It's a fun place though, isn't it?"
'Fun' was one way of putting it, he supposed; people from every walk of life passed each other on the Nakasendō, of which Itabashi was the first post town from Tokyo. Merchants, couriers, government officials, peddlers, farmers, street performers, and of course the prostitutes –- that was how many women in the post towns earned their keep. When a man catcalled to Tokio, Eiji felt his face grow hot that she was being disrespected. Tokio, on the other hand, carried on unruffled. Noticing that Eiji was glaring fiercely at the lout, she gently steered him along.
"I'm glad that you came with me," she murmured to him, touched by his protective manner.
"It would have been better if Morinosuke-san or Kenjirō-san could have come with us," Eiji grumbled.
"Yes, but they both have to work. You and Muku are more than enough company for me." She tried to reassure him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Tsutomu seized the opportunity to grab a fistful of Eiji's hair.
"Owowowow! Stop that!" Eiji disentangled himself and took a few steps back.
"Oh dear. I'm sorry, Eiji-san. He's getting a little restless." She bounced her son on her back, trying to get him to settle down. "Look Tsutomu, there's the temple. We're almost there, so be good."
It was a small temple, with only a few monks. They obviously knew Tokio and appeared to have been expecting her. Eiji did not pay too much attention to the grown-up talk, being busy playing with Tsutomu and Muku in the courtyard. They were served tea and refreshments, and the abbot was clearly enjoying Tokio's conversation. Eiji caught snippets of their conversation.
"…. still some vandalism, but in fact there are more people who leave offerings…."
"…. Sugimura-sama has made clear that he wishes for his own grave to be erected next to it…."
Though they had set out early from the house, it was already mid-morning when Tokio took her leave, carrying a bucket, some flowers from the temple garden, and oddly enough, some gardening tools.
"Is the grave not here?" Eiji asked perplexed as they left the temple grounds.
"No, Kondō-sensei was not afforded the right to a temple burial back then." Tokio shook her head. "It's a little bit further away."
Eiji walked after her, noting that the road led away from the town, towards quiet fields and grassland. After a short while, a tall stone pillar came into view. Eiji drew in his breath as they approached: carved into its face were two names, Kondō Isami and Hijikata Toshizō.
The gravesite was in a secluded location, with hardly anyone passing by. One almost forgot that they were close to a busy town. Although the monks at the temple cared for the site from time to time, the plot had filled with weeds and creeping vines attempting to overrun the ground. Tokio told Eiji that he could take Tsutomu and Muku to play nearby, but not to go too far.
"I'd rather help," Eiji said in a quiet voice.
Tokio looked at him gratefully and gave him some instructions. With their small trowels and scythes, they set to their tasks. Tsutomu chased some grasshoppers that they disturbed, and was fascinated by a ladybird that crawled onto his hand.
"Why are there two names on the grave? I thought you said Hijikata Toshizō died in Hokkaidō?"
"Nagakura-sama decided that it should be so – that it would not be right to honor one without the other."
They talked a little while they worked.
"What's this big stone over here?" Eiji asked as he struggled to remove a dandelion plant next to it.
"That's the original marker for where his body was buried," Tokio looked over her shoulder at him. Eiji blanched at her words. "I hope you're not frightened – his family removed the remains some time ago. They've kept it a secret, for fear of retaliation, so this is still regarded as his grave. But there's no body beneath that stone."
Eiji was somewhat ashamed of his reaction; after all, he knew that this was a place of peace for the Fujitas. He stood up and straightened his back before trying to tackle the stubborn plant again. Looking around, he noticed a few other stone markers.
"What are those other stones?"
"There are some unfortunate souls that pass away in the town, with no known family or relatives. They are buried out here too."
"That seems very lonely…." After his recent experiences, Eiji felt a profound sympathy for the deceased.
A cloud passed over Tokio's face, and it dawned on Eiji how terrible it must have been for the Shinsengumi that their leader had been buried in such a place, and under such ignoble circumstances. He understood the urge that had led them to build this grave, to commemorate the man they had respected and followed.
Once the plot was tidy, Tokio filled the bucket in a nearby stream. She poured the water over the grave to wash it of dust and dirt and filled the vases at its base. Eiji watched as she carefully arranged the flowers.
"Come Tsutomu, you must say your prayers for your father's Commander." She beckoned to her son. Even if the young boy did not really understand her words, he could tell that his mother was serious and he dutifully copied her movements. She helped him place the incense in the small alcove. "You don't remember, but we came here together last year. Oh, your father was gone far away then too…." She smiled sadly as Tsutomu bowed his head in front of the grave.
She saw that Eiji had already put his palms together in prayer, though he turned to her for approval. She nodded in appreciation. Eiji prayed with all the sincerity that he could muster.
'Kondō-sensei, I know you don't know me and I don't know you, but I want you to know that the Fujitas have never forgotten about you. Please watch over them, and please watch over Fujita-san on his dangerous assignment. He's going after the mad man who killed my family and is terrorizing the country. I think you'd be pretty proud of him, from what I've heard. Help him come home safely, to Tokio-san and Tsutomu-kun, and Muku. And I hope you are resting in peace.'
When he looked up, Tokio's head was still bowed, her eyes still closed. He imagined that she was praying for the same things that he had.
A soothing breeze blew across his cheeks as he watched a pair of white ibises wheeling down from the sky into a nearby rice field. Frogs croaked in the creeks, crickets chirped in the grass, and a sense of tranquility filled him. He was glad he had come.
He turned at the sound of Tokio's voice.
"Eiji-san, thank you again for coming with me today. You were a great help," she bowed to him with a smile. "I'm sure you must be hungry after all that hard work. Let's get some lunch in town before we head home."
Eiji grinned at her and helped her gather up the bucket (which was now filled with weeds) and the tools.
"Tokio-san, you said you would tell me more about the Shinsengumi."
"Yes, of course. What would you like to know?" She sounded pleased.
"How did you first meet them?" He bent down to give Tsutomu a piggyback ride.
"Oh, let's see. The first time I actually met them was when they stumbled into my quarters at night, about 15 years ago." She chuckled softly as her son clambered onto her foster son's back.
"What?!" Eiji's eyes grew round with astonishment; the situation sounded veritably scandalous.
"Yes, I think they were looking for the lavatories, if I recall." A few strands of hair had become loose, framing her face, and she brushed them back behind her ear. "Then the second time I met them, Danna-sama had a nosebleed."
"You made his nose bleed?!" A nosebleed had certain connotations that even a young boy was aware of.
"Oh dear, I'm telling this all wrong." The twinkle in her eye gave away that she was deliberately having some fun. "Still, it's true – that's what happened."
Now that the day's duty had been completed, she was more relaxed, and she answered his questions about the beginnings of the Shinsengumi and how she had gotten to know them well through her work for the Aizu-han. She talked gaily about the different captains, especially about the First Captain, Okita Souji, and she talked seriously about the difficult task of maintaining the peace in Kyoto. Eiji enjoyed hearing about the Ikedaya Affair and about other tales of their exploits; as with most boys, he liked stories that had a lot of adventure.
"So they were the good guys, right?" Eiji asked with some emphasis.
Tokio paused before she answered.
"They were good men, or at least, most of them were. But in battle, it is not always a case of good versus evil." She smiled at him ruefully. "Himura Kenshin, for example, do you think he is a good man?"
"Yes," Eiji said with conviction.
"I think he must be too. And yet, that man has a terribly dark past. And my husband, he is the best man that I know, and he has always strived to do what is right – but I am under no illusions that he can be terrifying and ruthless. They used to be the fiercest of foes, but now, they are working together to stop a man who used to fight for the same side as Himura Battousai."
Eiji looked troubled at her words, and Tokio worried that what she had said might be too heavy for the youth to grasp. They walked in silence for a while, but then, Eiji spoke again.
"I think I understand – that things aren't as simple as black and white. But I've decided," he looked up resolutely at Tokio, "I don't care what other people say about the Shinsengumi. They must have been the good guys, because you and Fujita-san are good people. And I think that I understand that Fujita-san is still a Shinsengumi Captain, even though he's now a police officer."
A tender warmth spread through Tokio's heart as she smiled at her young ward.
"Thank you, Eiji-san. It means the world to me to hear you say that." She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Now, what would you like to eat?"
In the back of her mind, Tokio could almost hear Nagakura's words.
"I won't have them feel ashamed of my past. I want them to be able to hold their heads up high, and know that all that we did, we did for the sake of the country…."
There was no need to worry; tell them the truth, and their children would be proud of them.
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Author's Notes: Thank you very much for bearing with another monstrously long chapter. To everyone who left a review for the last chapter, I am incredibly grateful for the encouragement (I think I replied to all the reviews with contact details/that allow PMs but forgive me if I missed anyone please).
I have a few announcements to make:
= Chapter 3 of Eeni's doujinshi for CLT is up!
= CLT has a spinoff fanfic, by author Arget Cross! "The Funny Threads of Life": It details a chance meeting around Meiji Year 20, and it's wonderfully written. I was delighted when I read it as it fit into the timeline so well, and the character portrayals were spot on. I hope other people will enjoy it too!
= The MKR Tumblr will take submissions for RK fanworks!
See profile page for details.
I hope readers enjoyed Chapter 2, despite the lack of appearances by other RK characters. They will be included, I swear, as this 'parallel timeline' of the Kyoto-hen progresses. When I say parallel, I'm using the term loosely - after all, a lot of scenes are taken up by flashbacks. I do intend to go back to the actual beginning of the RK timeline (when Kenshin first appears in Tokyo), but it will take a while. I want to write about how Saitou first found out that Kenshin had survived and was in Tokyo; about his investigations into the Kurogasa murders, Raijuta, Takeda Kanryu; about what they might have talked about in the carriage from Kyoto to Osaka (that's at least a few hours) or on their way to Shishio's lair (another few hours). I will be eagerly waiting for any comments, criticisms, or even suggestions. I'm so happy to talk to fellow fans about RK! I appreciate reader's indulging my fantasies very much. (That's what this whole thing is, after all).
As for why I picked up Nagakura as a major figure in this chapter, I have several reasons. One is of course that he was the only other Shinsengumi Captain alive during the Meiji period, and he really did work hard to build Kondō's grave. He also wrote memoirs, which are seen as very important primary sources for Shinsengumi historians. Although he wrote that he had hardly any connections to Saitou in the Meiji period, I interpreted that as Saitou trying to keep a low profile and his name off the records for the sake of this narrative. Another major reason why I included Nagakura is that in interviews, Watsuki-sensei has said that he actually planned on writing a Hokkaidō Arc, with Nagakura as a key character. Considering that Watsuki ended up sending Saitou to Hokkaidō in Meiji 15 (the omake manga he wrote), I couldn't resist. Also, Tokio would have been very early on into her pregnancy in April 1876 (Tsutomu was born in December).
Again, there are extended historical/cultural notes on the tumblr page (pictures, photos, and even a very cool kendo video!). I hope readers will take an interest if they have the time. I'm happy to answer any questions so please drop me a line if there's anything you didn't understand or would like to know more about. Thank you again and I hope to hear from you!