Rurouni Yahiko
A Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction Continuation by Chester Castañeda
Akahori will do everything he can to take into account every last contingency and eventuality, but will he be able to do so against a powerful cult leader from his shrouded past?
Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and Sony. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.
Chapter 14: Madness at the Mansion
"If that's the case, then I must be the former type. It's not that I'm claiming myself to be great or anything, but I'm no vanguard like you, Akahori-kun," Inoue remarked as he grabbed hold of the confounded Kuroda's shoulders to both restrain and reassure him. "I believe that greatness can be achieved with the combined and concerted efforts of my peers as well as myself. The power of the multitude isn't necessarily an affront against people who are individually great."
"An admirable stance, but I find it rather naive," Akahori observed bluntly. "Your position is unbecomingly infantile for someone who's experienced the death of the old Japan and the birth of the new one. You should know better, Inoue-kun; idealism and reality does not mesh."
"Fair enough," Inoue assented, but afterwards dared, "What about you, Akahori? How naive are you as well, thinking that the path you've chosen will lead you to success? You've made a lot of enemies because of your schemes as well as your recklessness. Just how great can you become if the whole world is against you?"
Akahori unclenched his hands, stood up, and stretched his gangly arms across his table. "In my not-so-humble opinion, facing against the whole world is the very definition of greatness." At that point, the Oyakata declared, "I thank you two for your time and presence. Alas, I believe that this mockery of a meeting has come to a close. My bodyguard will escort you both to your carriages."
"Good-bye, Akahori. Take good care of yourself, old friend," Inoue bid his farewell as he bowed, while Kuroda could only manage a curt nod while slightly bending over. They exited the room with Soujiro a few minutes later.
Akahori strode to the balcony of the estate, breathing in the fresh alpine air. "Just how unpredictable will everything get? Will you be able to surprise me yet again?" he whispered to the chortling mountain breeze.
Later in the afternoon, after the trio realized that they were too far away to buy meat buns for the Togakudan (which Yahiko suspected as a wild goose chase that the spy troop used to get rid of Minoe, especially after the pirate-garbed non-pirate confessed that he needed to cross the outer fringes of Nagano to find that type of food), they returned to the mansion and spent their time discussing the Battousai Group's impending assassination of Akahori.
Somehow, the discussion shifted from the details behind the announced hit to just how powerful this Battousai Group was. Yahiko himself was fairly sure that any warrior from the Ten Swords or Enishi's Six Comrades would've "kicked the asses of those posers from here to Saturday, and twice on Sunday". He would've said so himself had Gan not used the exact same wording to describe how the Shinsengumi would've humiliated the religious terrorist upstarts instead.
Grumbling at his own defensiveness, the childish part of Yahiko's mind that screeched, "Kenshin can win against anybody if he's properly motivated, even Hiko Seijuro XIII!" made him inquire, "By the way, did Amakusa really kill a thousand men within a month or two at his own hometown? I've heard an acquaintance of mine tell me tales of certain swordsmen killing fifty soldiers in two hours, but a whole army in little over a month or two sounds kind of dubious. And retarded."
Minoe slowly looked up into the late afternoon skies, his uncovered eye darting left and right in seeming meditation before the swirling cumulus unveiled the brilliance of the setting sun, which made him wince and cover his face with a cupped hand. "That's a gross oversimplification, Yahiko-chi. No one man could kill a thousand soldiers by himself. Especially during 1878, when the use of guns became more rampant than the use of the katana."
The boy with spiky hair let out a relieved-sounding chortle. "Ah, of course. Silly me. In real life, guns are better than swords." Not that Yahiko would know any better, what with him and the rest of Kenshin's company constantly battling fighters of varying competence who insist on dueling the old-fashioned, bakumatsu-approved way.
From there, Minoe's svelte form froze and bent over, his body shaking for some reason.
"Patches?" Gan ventured as he reached out his hand towards the trembling man-child, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled. "What's the matter?"
"AMAKUSA SHOGO-SAMA HAS BEEN MADE INTO A SCAPEGOAT BY THOSE MEIJI GOVERNMENT SCUM! That's why they blamed him for the deaths of over a thousand soldiers and policemen. They might as well say he killed all two thousand with the way they made him solely responsible for the fiasco that happened in Shimabara!"
A dog howled in the distance.
Yahiko... the closest one to Minoe and his batty screech that could've summoned "Kitsune-chi" and friends, the dead, and the devil... winced back a tear, uttered, "Holy fucking shit," in a strained voice, keeled over, and writhed on the ground. 'So this was what happened to Enishi after Kenshin helped tear apart his eardrum with a supersonic sword-sheathing technique!'
Gan turned his head to the side and slapped one of his ears repeatedly as though there were water stuck in his other ear, shook his noggin as if to clear it, and wondered when the whistling sound he kept on hearing would stop. "So this Amakusa Kumamoto person was framed by our esteemed Meiji Government, I'm assuming? I can't say I'm surprised."
"That's exactly right! Shogo-sama...!" Minoe squeaked because his earlier shrillness had taken a toll on his vocal cords.
"...Sama?" the recovering Yahiko repeated, picking his throbbing ear with his pinky finger to make sure he was hearing Minoe right.
"...Chi. Amakusa-chi," Minoe corrected himself, clearing his strained throat and mumbling something about being overcome by his emotions. "He, like many other people screwed over by the Choshu and Satsuma Clans after they took over the nation's seat of power, was merely protecting the interests of his fellow Christian brethren. He wasn't some army-killing terrorist who'd slice you up at the drop of a hat a la the Hitokiri Battousai or the Shidai Nikuya of the Bakumatsu. If he hadn't survived the sudden government attack on Shimabara back in 1878, he would've died a Christian martyr."
"By the way, are you disappointed about the fact that your hero is nothing more than a fraud and an urban legend, Patches?" Gan interjected with the bluntness of the steel bat that he usually carried because he felt the need to set the record straight.
"Er, I'm not saying that Amakusa-chi isn't a terrorist right now or anything like that. I'm just... disillusioned with the government. In fact, I myself would've joined the Freedom and People's Rights Movement if I weren't part of the Togakudan," came Minoe's wishy-washy take on the subject.
"Yeah, yeah. So would I. The government sucks, and that's not exactly groundbreaking news. Politics in general just frizzes my hair because it's nothing more than a pissing contest on who could delay decisions the longest," Yahiko addressed with a flat tone, his posture drooped as he paced around while observing the dried leaves and twigs crunch and crackle underneath his sandals like kindling inside a furnace.
An uninvited vision of his overworked and frazzled widow of a mother getting manhandled by a leering Gasuke entered Yahiko's mind before he altogether pushed the spine-tingling memory into the darkest depths of his subconscious.
Gulping down the feeling of wetness in his oral and nasal passages, Yahiko emphasized, "I'm not a big fan of the Meiji Government. In fact, based on the many experiences that my friends and I had, I'd probably side with the Battousai Group or the Jiyu Minken Undo if given the chance. However, I have no sympathy for terrorists or extremists. Amakusa's actions are doing his people more harm than good."
Gan put his plate-wide hands on Minoe's shoulder and gently patted it. "Sorry, Patches, but I'm siding with Yoshi-boy on this one. I mean, with all due respect to this Kumamoto guy, he's brought the government's wrath upon himself and his followers. Killing off officials working for an administration that essentially helped lift the ban against his religion by ousting the anti-Christian shogunate in the first place is a stupid idea!"
The bandanna-wearing mountain of muscle and fat trudged across the otherwise deserted lawn in wide arcs, kicking off dust, dirt, rock, and foliage as he went about his tirade. "I'm guessing the people he killed must have been former bakufu officials. Nevertheless, terrorism is not the way to advertise his religion to the new government as something worth embracing or tolerating. He probably set back Christianity in Japan to Tokugawa-Era persecution for what he has done."
Yahiko's eyebrows shot up as he blinked and stared at the raving Gan with a gaping mouth. 'Wow. That actually made sense. I was expecting something else, specifically bullshit.'
Gan did a low whistle as he continued his diatribe. "You know what, Patches? For an obvious admirer of Amakusa Shogo, it's weird how you're practically working for the Meiji Government. You're as much of a walking contradiction as Yoshi-boy over here. You're both forced to do stuff you don't want by people you don't like because you value 'saving face' and 'virtues' too much. You're all being hypocritical, though."
Yahiko gave Gan a dirty look as he regained his vertical base and trailed behind his two acquaintances. "And you're full of yourself, Gan. What gave you that idea?"
Gan shrugged as he counted on one hand his reasons. "For one thing, you support to the point of infatuation that Ishin Shishi hitokiri. That doesn't necessarily mean you're Pro-Choshu or Pro-Satsuma, but an argument over your bias could be made. For another thing, you're applying as a bodyguard for one of the politicians supporting the government you hate. Granted, he's not from either of the dominant parties I just mentioned, but he's not exactly rebelling against them either. One more thing, you're quite Anti-Shinsengumi, which to me translates that you're very Pro-Royalist. The only thing about you that doesn't scream 'Ishin Shishi nuthugger' is that you say you aren't. Isn't that the epitome of being hypocritical, or at least contradictory?"
Yahiko choked back two chuckles that sounded more like emphysema as his blood traveled straight to his swelling, reddening head. "Oh, you got me all figured out, Gan. You're as insightful as always. The visual of me hugging ball sacks is quite classy as well."
Minoe yanked his head away from his Sanbaka cohorts, his mouth shrunken into a thin, quivering line as he wrapped his bandaged arms around himself. "It's not that I'm condoning Amakusa-chi's assassinations or whatnot, but you both need to realize that we're being governed by an oligarchy that's more concerned with gathering more power, prestige, and money for its members than fighting for the rights of its citizens."
The Rambunctious Gan cocked his pointer finger back in order to deliver his cunning riposte when his posture just as quickly deflated like a popped balloon. "Er, what's an oligarchy?"
Yahiko didn't really like the taste of decomposing plants, but his body couldn't help itself as it fell face-first in utter aggravation. Even the obstinate Minoe appeared rather disheveled by the Inconsistent Gan's sudden bout of ignorance. "It means we're presently being ruled by rich, elite politicians, Gan-chi."
"Oh. Right." Gan put his thumbs over his obi, tapped his exposed fingers on his wide thighs, and whistled a short tune. "So, you were saying? Or is it my turn to talk now?"
Thanks to Gan's smooth segue, the Sanbaka forgot what they were arguing about. Subsequently, they let out a collective sigh as they sat down on the grassy, prickly lawn and stared at the golden-brown sky. The fiery heavens matched the dying exquisiteness of the autumnal earth. The warmth of the afternoon sun burned with a passion that left the three comrades wistful and pensive.
The season of death and decay wasn't supposed to appear this glorious. Idealism wasn't supposed to look so naive and foolish. Pragmatism wasn't supposed to look harsh and ugly. A lot of things tended to contradict what they were supposed to be, the Three Stooges reckoned.
"Did you already talk to somebody else about the Battousai Group, Yahiko-chi?" Minoe inquired in a hushed tone, his gut feeling already providing him his answer before the sixteen-year-old samurai successor confirmed his suspicions.
Not a single one of Yahiko's facial muscles moved except for those attached to his mouth and cheeks. "Yeah, I did. The Oyakata we met late last midnight in the Shinshu Cockpits was Akahori Tetsuo himself... the man that the Battousai Group wants to kill. I even had Mister Sakaguchi confirm everything that the slimy politician told me, and it all checked out. But if what you say is true, then they must've had some 'creative' interpretations of the event."
"Okay." Minoe bit his lip and pouted in a way that neither Yahiko nor any other man could ever duplicate. "Even though I can see why Oyakata-dono-chi would lie about the Shimabara incident, I'm surprised that Sakaguchi-chi believed the same thing. Or rather, maybe he has a good reason to do so? I can't tell. I've only met him just yesterday."
"I'm surprised you called Officer Daddy, 'Sakaguchi-chi'. You may be an effeminate weirdo, but at least you're dedicated to your quirks." Gan shifted and stirred around the pile of leaves underneath him, unmindful of the dirt, muck, and bacteria that his nineteenth century mind couldn't possibly fathom but should've for the sake of his own health.
"I've never been involved in any actual war, Minoe, but to tell you the truth, it'd be a mistake for you to think that a conflict has good guys and bad guys; that you're right and everyone else against you is wrong, misguided, or lying. That's oversimplifying things. Both sides will always think themselves to be the right side, but only history and our descendants can judge years from now who truly is right.'"
Minoe turned his head towards Yahiko as he let the boy's words sink in, his face shadowed against the sunset, his silhouette highlighted by a thin line of light that reached all the way to the wisps of disheveled fake hair on his wig.
Yahiko scratched his cheek, smacked his dry mouth to moisturize it, and coughed. "Or something like that; all I'm saying is that might doesn't necessarily make right. It only proves that the guy who prevailed wanted the win a bit more than his opponent did. That's all. But that shouldn't stop anyone from fighting for what he or she thinks is right either."
"I don't quite understand what you're trying to say, Yahiko-chi," admitted Minoe with a shrug of his not-so-broad shoulders. "Can you please elaborate?"
Yahiko cleared his throat. "Look. For all intents and purposes, the government appears like the bad guys to you, but to them, they'll never think of themselves that way. Even if they're your own personal villains, they'll always think of themselves as the heroes. Also, let's face it, maybe we're somebody else's villains. So you shouldn't paint things as black and white, because life doesn't work that way."
"Wow. Did you come up with that all by yourself, Yoshi-boy?" the Garrulous Gan mocked with shiny octopus lips and beady eyes. Minoe's and Yahiko's respective neck hairs shot straight up as they both turned blue at the insulting sight before them.
"N-No, a good friend of mine told me that a long time ago."
"That figures. You couldn't have thought up that philosophical mumbo-jumbo by yourself, what with your simpleminded, gung-ho 'I want to be stronger and beat up all the bad guys!' shtick."
In three blinks... or perhaps winks... of Minoe's exposed eye, Yahiko sprayed Gan's face with crushed and crumpled foliage, Gan put Yahiko in a headlock before rubbing the boy's skull raw with vibrating knuckles, and Yahiko at long last gave Gan a taste of his 1878-vintage "Wrath at the End of the Era" crotch kick.
"My so-called shtick is certainly better than your unoriginal 'I'm a gluttonous drunkard who stalks women and gambles a lot!' one, so you should talk," Yahiko rebutted in triumph as he shoved a thumbs-down sign at the moaning, groaning, and butt-wiggling Gan.
"So what's my shtick, guys?" Minoe queried, sitting up and pointing to himself with expectant glee.
"Er, the 'Better left unsaid' shtick?" was what Gan wanted to quip, but he ultimately decided against it because his quota of "one Minoe pout per day" had already been filled. Besides, he reckoned that his presently falsetto voice would just ruin the intended effect of his wisecrack.
"Okay, have we learned anything from this discussion?" came Yahiko's rhetorical question.
However, since it was doubtful that any of the three had studied that particular figure of speech, Minoe submitted in due course, "Yeah! Yahiko-chi is a fanatic of Hitokiri Battousai, Gan-chi is a fanatic of the Shinsengumi, and I'm a fanatic of Amakusa Shogo! We're all fanboys!"
Yahiko's facial expression and body language demonstrated exhaustion beyond peer and an unwillingness to mime any sort of coherent response to Minoe's typical nonsense. "Then we really haven't learned anything at all."
"How about we call our merry men, 'The Fanboys', then? Or is that name already taken or something?" Gan piped up, his one-track mind stuck in a garden path long abandoned by his two cohorts.
"A rock and a hard place, Gan," Yahiko intimated, referring to how Gan had managed to come up with a group name that was worse than "The Three Stooges".
"'A Rock and a Hard Place', eh? So where does Minoe fit in that group name?"
"...I give up."
"I told you that 'Sanbaka' is the perfect name for us!" Minoe interposed.
"The tragic part of that sentence is its accuracy," the browbeaten Yahiko noted as he put on his frayed kabuto that served as his white flag of defeat.
The forest of yellow green, brown, and white engulfed Rin, blurs of Nagano's mountain peaks just ahead of her at an unfathomable distance. How far were they? Where was she? What exactly prompted her to jump out of a moving vehicle? Carelessness or lack of concern?
She couldn't have stood out more if she set herself on fire. Within the confined space of a wagon, her mere words and gestures made a difference. Here, painting-like visions of autumnal grace surrounded her yet held an empty flatness she couldn't properly perceive, consuming her in vibrant, untouchable hues devoid of any discernable profiles.
Nothing she reached for fell within her grasp. The objects that managed to touch her did so inadvertently, appearing in the middle of an ungraspable nothingness that lacked the feeling of form and shape.
Regardless of her uncertainty, she traipsed further into the woods, showering her feet with splashes of crisp foliage sprinkling behind her in fountains of apricot and tan, her shawl floating in watery air, her creamy skin and purple kimono enabling her to blend in with the white trunks and branches of the prefecture's native birch trees and blooming alpine plants.
If she only stood still, then she'd be camouflaged by the unending nature surrounding her. However, doing so would also mean that she'd have no choice but be left in the shadows... shadows that filled her with a subconscious dread she'd rather not delve into.
Night terrors of being torn apart from the inside out while hearing a disjointed cacophony of sweet nothings... a flash fire of love and hatred prickling into the side of her slim neck... blazed before Rin's silvery eyes, but her mind blanked out at the last second before she could make sense of it all.
She wanted no part of such dreams; however, if she actually moved towards the light, pain and suffering awaited her instead. A contemptuous voice reverberated inside the milk-haired girl's mind, singing parodied nursery rhymes and taunts that compelled her to gulp her heart down and restrain it from exiting her body altogether.
She opened her mouth, gasping for air, shuddering as something built up inside her throat... she fought against that feeling, raged against it, grasping at plants that weren't there for support.
Stop. Relax. Wait.
Before she knew it, her body backpedaled into the shade of spindled birches.
Where was she?
She took out her glasses and put them on to cover the glare of the unforgiving sun.
She hated the sun. Or rather, she hated what it entailed. After all, she never showed any particular partiality towards the night, the moon, and the stars either. The shadows petrified her as well. In truth, if people could survive without the sun... and if she weren't so afraid of the dark... then she would be satisfied living in a world of darkness.
She hated the sun in a way she didn't quite understand... after all, she felt perfectly fine around the warm glow of a streetlamp or candle... which made her realize early on that she had an unreasoning aversion to something that was otherwise mundane to everybody else.
She hated how the sun made her feel, because she couldn't leave any of the different mansions that she, her father, and their army of servants occupied unless Akahori's business prompted them to move. That ball of fire in the sky brought tears in her eyes without depressing her in the least. It also caused her to draw her room's curtains and hide into the shadows she feared, where she could barely see a thing.
She hated how the sun compelled her to stay in a place where coldness became comfort up until the prickly heat behind her neck signaled the beginning of her nightmares. She was the moon, running away from the sun as it chased after her for an eternity. Of course, that wasn't really how the phenomenon of dawn and twilight worked, but that was how the sun seemed to her; a relentless stalker that would never give her a minute of tranquility during her waking hours, pushing her into a situation she never wanted to be in from the very start.
If the sunlight elicited her irrational hatred and the darkness triggered her illogical fear, then where was she supposed to go? This was her personal cross that she had to bear. However, someone else also shared her burden, but he wasn't even aware of the fact that he belonged to neither the darkness nor the light. She'd do her best to educate him about the shade of gray where light and darkness met one of these days.
She longed for the comforting warmth of a lamp or a candle, where she could enjoy both the light and the shadows for once. She longed for light that engulfed her but left her untouched and unscarred. She pined for shadows that kept her safe and free from any harm. Alas, reality forbade her to have the comforts that everyone else took for granted.
She told barely any of the people around her about that particular quirk of hers. She never came clean to them because these superstitious fools would probably equate her hatred of light and fear of darkness to wickedness, demon worship, and death harbingering than mere predisposition... not that she needed to anyway, what with the whispers of "vampire" behind her back. That was preposterous, of course; who'd ever heard of a ghoul that was scared of the shadows?
She also hated the fact that her physical limitations and idiosyncrasies left her completely at the mercy of one of the Battousai Group's mercenaries, or perhaps even the very leader of the cult himself who was known to do personal assassinations of government officials when called for.
On that note, the identity of the cavalier coachman that'd brought her to Nagano intrigued her somewhat. Thing was, she'd overheard from her father that every member of the Battousai Group was a Hitokiri Battousai in his own right, and only a few of their identities have been exposed to the Meiji Government.
With that in mind, even if she could see normally and walk out into the sun without any protection of some sort, she probably wouldn't be able to get really far anyway. Unless their decision of using the Battousai name was just for show, then she was virtually trapped like a blind white mouse in some sort of jungle labyrinth.
But she already knew that, and she didn't particularly care. If she did, then she wouldn't have bothered humoring her kidnapper from the get go. She wasn't quite sure which one of the Battousais he was, but she had a few plausible theories.
Soon afterwards, beneath the shade of the trees and the sunny plains that lay onwards, the nebulous silhouette of green and white before her took the shape of a gangly man who walked with a steady gait. His full, rich mane flowed behind him with the regalia of a royal cape.
"I won't hurt you," the alleged Hitokiri Battousai reassured as he moved into Rin's full view. He still wore his coachman gear, but this time he brandished a curious crystal ball on his right hand and a sheathed, black-colored sword on his belt strap. "Come quietly. It'll be over soon."
"I've heard that line before; too many times, actually," Rin confessed with a gentle toss of her hair and a squint of her metallic eyes. "Tell me, Mister Battousai; how far are you willing to go to kill my father?"
Outside the entrance of Jusanro Tani's former mansion outside Shinshu, Minoe mumbled something to Yahiko's ear from out of the blue.
Yahiko jumped about two feet away from the uncomfortably close Minoe. "Er, I didn't quite catch what you said," the boy gulped as he scratched the side of his nose.
"Have you ever wished to be someone else, Yahiko-chi?" Minoe asked, his eyes hidden by his fake bangs. However, the earnestness of his voice remained loud and clear.
Yahiko put his hands on his waist and did a once-over on Minoe. "Why would you even ask a question like that?"
"No particular reason," came Minoe's unfazed reply.
It took Yahiko all of two seconds to come up with, "No. Call me egotistical or whatever, but I've never really wanted to be anything else other than myself.
"I see." Minoe nodded several times before turning his back on his two listless comrades and looking at the chilly and slightly cloudy moonlit sky.
Yahiko rethought his answer. "I've always wanted to be stronger than I was before; that is, better than how I was when I was ten years old. I used to be so weak and helpless that my old hag of a master had to comfort me by saying that I'm the 'Strongest Ten Year Old in Japan'. It was pretty depressing."
Both Minoe and the eavesdropping Gan guffawed at Yahiko's "joke", but their mirth promptly died as soon as they saw the spiky-haired boy's half-lidded poker face. "See what I mean?"
"So did you ever become stronger than your past self? What would your past self have told your present self now?" Minoe prodded while Gan inflated his cheeks in withdrawn laughter.
"AHAHAHAHA! Strongest ten year old in Japan! That's like saying you're the tallest midget or the fastest turtle; the lowered standards make you the winner by default!" came Gan's outburst.
"Are you done now?" Yahiko inquired with a growl and pulsating veins on his head.
Gan scratched his buttocks and readjusted his pants. "Not really. I'll be over the tree laughing my ass off if you need me."
"All right. Where were we? Oh yeah." Yahiko scratched his chin and smacked his lips noisily. "To tell you the truth, Minoe, I don't think I'm there yet in terms of strength. I'm not sure I'll ever be, but I'll try my best to get to his level."
Minoe tilted his head to the side. "'His' level?"
"Kamiya Kenshin's level... or Himura Kenshin. Or Battousai. The vagabond. Whatever he calls himself now." The image of Kenshin's retreating back filled Yahiko's mind once more: a vision that he'd burned into his retinas forever. "The strength of the Kenshin I looked up to is not just the strength of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. It's the strength to keep on living bearing heartfelt pain and agony that's worse than death. Now, in the true meaning of the word, I want to be strong."
Minoe sighed and closed his one exposed eye. "I know what you mean. Amakusa-chi is a charismatic rebel that I can't help but look up to as well, even though I could never achieve his level of strength either."
"Since we're playing twenty questions here, what about you? Why are you part of the Togakudan anyway, Minoe?" Yahiko needled, figuring that tonight was as good a night as any to know more about the strange and mysterious eye-patched weirdo that had been following them for nearly two days now.
Minoe's eye darted to the side as his mouth formed a tight-lipped, withdrawn expression. "I'm not sure what either of your circumstances are, but the revolution has been tough on me. Farmers and peasants had always had it tough even before the Bakumatsu no Douran, but the situation became downright degrading once the government increased taxes and gave the poor debts that they couldn't possibly pay. You've all heard the same story before, I suppose. I've allowed myself to be the runt of the Togakudan pack because with them, I could at least earn enough to eat."
Yahiko cleared his throat as he waved his head to and fro for a possible exit from the awkward state of affairs; alas, he found none. "I-I'm sorry to hear that. I really am." He also regretted prying into Minoe's personal business, but had enough prudence to keep that statement to himself as he cursed Gan's big mouth inwardly.
Regrettably, discretion was a foreign concept to the Tactless Gan as he returned to the fray and added his two yen's worth in the conversation. "I hear you, buddy. We poor people need to stick together. These city folk have no idea how hard life can be, what with their fancy carriages, deep wells, and dense population."
"Hey, stop talking out of your ass! I've been through some rough times too, you know! Do I look like a rich kid to you guys? Come on," Yahiko blurted out while at the same time wishing he could kick himself for even bothering to engage in this discussion. "My dad died when I was little, and my mom was forced into debt by the yakuza before she herself died. I... I'm doing a lot better now than before, but I'm no spoiled brat who doesn't know what's it like to starve for days or weeks on end."
"Wow. Awkward," Gan declared as he huddled and squirmed. "Uh, well, I learned the Drunken Fist quite quickly because of all the severe and traumatizing beatings my drunkard father gave me as a child."
"...Really?" Yahiko murmured after a crow cawed, a cicada sang a solo concert, and a tumbleweed tumbled across the road. Both he and Minoe had gaped-mouth expressions of horror worthy of famine victims.
"No, not really; it's just that your stories totally make my story about my longtime crush who blew me off in Kyoto sound really lame." Gan helplessly shrugged before he was just-as-helplessly whacked upside the head with a blunt, cloth-wrapped sword. A brawl ensued.
"DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT! WE WERE HAVING A SERIOUS CONVERSATION HERE!"
In a little while, Minoe tittered so much that his wig and eye patch almost fell off, which served as Yahiko and Gan's cue to knock off their roughhousing of each other. "Maybe I should have joined the Sanbaka instead of the Togakudan; even though you two probably don't pay half as well, the membership will be worth it for the laughs."
Tempted as Gan and Yahiko were to "initiate" Minoe into their "team" after that inadvertent "Three Stooges" crack, they let their so-called comrade's running gag slide for the time being, happy that the nimbus of gloom from their past memories had come to pass.
"Going back to what we were talking about, you do know the reason behind the revolt in Chichibu, right?" Yahiko asked Minoe with a straight face, his smile still present but his intonation a lot lower and flatter than before.
"From what I can gather from the newspapers, it's about the tax increases and land reform. A lot of the farmers... me and my family included... had their lands confiscated because they couldn't keep up with the higher taxes and the changing times. I understand the good intentions of the government, but many people were bankrupted by debts they couldn't pay back even after several lifetimes of hard work thanks to low wages."
Minoe barked out what appeared to be a repressed and bitter chuckle. "I've been orphaned because of this new age. I was taken under the wing of a courtesan in the Red Light District, where I posed as her son; she was the only family I'd ever known, and she took good care of me until her death."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Yahiko couldn't help but repeat, and Gan couldn't help but chorus. Just then, the young boy bowed his head as the word "courtesan" echoed inside it; he subsequently tried his best to forget seeing the appearance of shame and misery his mother had after he caught her and the yakuza assassin Gasuke together in the Red Light District. He knew that she did what she did to support them both, and it tore his heart apart to see her mortification firsthand.
"Ah, I'm sorry too! I said those terrible, embarrassing things out loud, didn't I?" Minoe bobbed his head like an apologetic chicken eating birdfeed. "I seem to forget myself and what I say at times! My apologies!"
"No, no. Don't be sorry. I was the one who brought the subject up." Yahiko patted the remorseful Minoe on the shoulder and bowed in seeming cadence with the eccentric young man's own submissive actions.
"Yeah, he's the insensitive dumbass here," the Hypocritical Gan quipped before he got pelted by rocks by an obscenity-spewing Yahiko and a mischievous, teasing Minoe.
A sudden announcement from behind the trio interrupted their bonding and merrymaking time. "Minoe-chan, Akahori's meeting is about to start! Hehehe," a speckled-nose Togakudan companion of Minoe's proclaimed in a mocking, child-like manner. Fortunately, the eye-patched man-child seemed for the most part too clueless or carefree to mind the patronizing treatment.
"I don't know about you two, but attendance from Togakudan members is mandatory for this particular meeting. By the way, don't you two need to meet with Akahori-dono-chi first and confirm your attendance? Anyway, I'll see you in a bit, Yahiko-chi, Gan-chi," Minoe disclosed before he got choked on the neck by a one-armed, clothesline hug from a squatting Gan.
"What're you talking about, Patches? We're going together!" the square-jawed Gan grinned in such a way that it took up half of the space on his face. "Isn't that right, Yoshi-boy?"
"I don't understand why you're coming along, but at the very least, the Oyakata actually invited me to the 'party'." Yahiko extricated a gasping and relieved Minoe from Gan's chokehold and motioned the both of them towards the manor. "Shall we?"
Gan sat up, rolled his imaginary sleeves, and asked, "By the way, do you want me to punch that Raiden clown for you, Minoe? I didn't get the opportunity earlier because I kind of wanted to make amends with your spy troop first, but seeing that they're all total assholes, I'm willing to at least smash his face in." However, Minoe shook his head at Gan in a "Don't mind sempai" manner.
"Here we go," Minoe mentioned as he followed the milling policemen and hired bodyguards to the open mansion doors and went inside the estate with Yahiko and Gan in tow.
"Today is an important day, my dear friends," Tetsuo Akahori orated just as Yahiko and the others entered the crowded ballroom hall of Tani's repossessed mansion. The three were soon blocked by another trio of Gan-sized officers. The Oyakata took the untimely interruption to catch his breath, clear his throat, and nod to let the Sanbaka in.
"You have been summoned here several weeks ago in an attempt to make you assemble together; unfortunately, this came about during a momentous event in civil unrest, which compelled those in authority whom I asked for this favor to give you the choice of either handling the Chichibu affair or the rising coup d'etat of the rebel formerly known as Amakusa Shiro. I realize that this was an unmilitary and subversive move that spat right in the face of the order and discipline that the newly formed Japanese Imperial Army or the Kiheitai before it embodied.
"However, the good sense of the army cannot cover all bases, and though our country is in a state of emergency of sorts because of the discord unleashed by the dissatisfied masses, I still thank each and every one of you for volunteering for this mission today. If you're wondering why your superiors deemed this assignment important enough to supplant the damage control of last month's riot, then I shall give you an answer for your queries. You all deserve an explanation, at the very least.
"Gentlemen, I believe that it's only natural for me to tell you about my observations and demonstrate upon what grounds I've used to make my case concerning the importance of quelling the brewing rebellion of the previously defeated yet still dangerous Amakusa faction. Yes, we've metaphorically crushed the Christian rebels of Nagasaki before. However, I must take note that it came at the price of many soldiers and members of the National Police.
"They were your husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, families, lovers, and friends... they were lives lost that could never come back. I'm fully aware that for many of you, justice and vengeance are your primary motivating factors. Conversely, even though our esteemed government is quick to advertise the quelled Modern Shimabara Rebellion to the public as one of its best military achievements since the Boshin War and the Satsuma Rebellion, I who masterminded the later parts of the operation would be the first to admit of how Pyrrhic and hollow a victory it truly was.
"I am also conscious of the mixed feelings you may have concerning the timing of this whole event. I know how betrayed you felt when the government painted the Shimabara uprising as some sort of minor revolt that the Japanese Imperial Army immediately quelled. The war we've waged back then is a secret one, and it's in fact being waged up to the present! You may not trust those in power as much as you used to, or you may even want to side with the rebels who've just been captured back in Chichibu. Nationwide moral is low, the treaties we've been forced into by foreign lands remain unfair and unreasonable, and our economy is at a seesawing stage at the present.
"No, succeeding in this undertaking won't magically solve all your problems with the state, but it does present a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take hold of your destinies and embrace a secure, safe, and happy future. In line with your own honor and dignity as protectors and upholders of the law and the Empire's best interests, this is your chance to preemptively stop a tragedy from ever developing.
"You don't have to lose any of your loved ones any longer; it's your duty to do so, but it's also a responsibility that you cannot and should not let pass. As one of those who first embarked in the common cause of safeguarding our country from the cannibalistic rust of outdated ideals and preparing it for a global future, I am here to implore you to help me finish what we've started.
"If my actions so far have not convinced you of my loyalty to you and to the unfinished business we've entered six years past back in Shimabara, my declaration tonight would be equally unconvincing and shallow. Yes, I'm asking you to kill the leader of the crazed insurgents who caused you so much grief and misery. I don't claim to be a martyr who'll act as bait for your revenge. It's also okay for you to not give a damn about my life. Think of me as cowardly. Think of me as a faithful friend of the army. It doesn't matter.
"What I offer now is closure. I've witnessed your distresses, and I've furthered your cause and calls for justice. The time has come for you to enact that justice unto your own hands for whatever cause you may have, whether it's for your duty to your country, for the sake of unleashing vengeance to those who've wronged you, or for the honor of enacting true, lasting change in a preventive yet inglorious manner.
"I've listed all of the names of the warriors who've heroically sacrificed themselves back in Shimabara, and asked their distraught next of kin or comrades if any of them wanted to join me in this quest to stop Amakusa's reign of terror. Many refused, seeking peace, and that's okay with me. There are about forty of you who've gathered here just after another revolt of sorts to bring about justice to the people that our government would rather forget. I thank you for your bravery and the strength that you'll lend me tonight."
No hearty rounds of applause or polite clapping reverberated across the large ballroom sporting staircases on either side of it that lead to a magnificent balcony of sorts where Akahori delivered his speech. However, the buzz and murmur of assent from most of the policemen and bodyguards gathered made it clear that popular opinion swayed towards the politician's favor.
"I'll get straight to the point. The person... no, the people responsible for those of you who've suffered six years worth of hell are coming here tonight, which gives you the opportunity to achieve the closure, justice, and vengeance that you so long for. By helping me capture or even kill Amakusa Shogo and his supposed Battousai Group, you'll be able to give meaning and merit to the events of the Shimabara Rebellion that the Meiji hanbatsu and history has chosen to forget."
Yahiko crossed his arms and blew a stray strand of his hair off of his forehead. He'd gotten separated from both the Suffocating Gan and the eccentric Minoe in order to get a better vantage point for Akahori's lengthy sermon.
'Humph. Will you look at that? The Oyakata sure has a way with words when it comes to furthering his agenda, unlike that fat pig Tani and his fatter sumo wrestler for a nephew who both had the subtlety of an oncoming freight train. This Akahori guy is also different from Minister Yamagata, who kept on going 'Himura this' or 'Himura that' whenever he had a problem to solve, as though he's incapable of actually doing his job. I have no idea how good of a leader Akahori is, but he can certainly talk the talk.'
The boy scratched his chin as he narrowed his eyes. 'I'm getting a whole lot of rumors, feedback, and whatnot from this Amakusa fellow and his Battousai impersonation shtick. I wonder what drove him to impersonate Kenshin from the get go, though. In any case, will he live up to the hype? Or is he nothing but a hype job and the real, legitimate threat dwells among his fanatical followers instead? That's what I want to know.'
"Yahiko-kun?" a voice from behind the Son of Tokyo Samurai asked.
Yahiko turned around and recognized two more people he knew of inside the spacious room. Kosaburo Shinichi of the Tokyo Police District smiled and waved at him alongside the asshole that Kenshin fought way back when in 1878, oddly enough. 'Hey, it's Kosaburo and the what's-his-face corrupt Satsuma policeman guy whom Kenshin wrung and laundered like a dishcloth. Small world.'
"It's good to see you again, Yahiko-kun!" Kosaburo nodded his head in greeting and then lightly slapped the shoulder of his young kendo master for good measure. "I was wondering where you went last month, what with Kaoru-san saying you were in a training trip of some sort, but here you are now! We kind of missed you back home."
"Hey, Kosaburo. I didn't know you were part of this farce," Yahiko griped with the enthusiasm of an undertaker. He then beckoned his older student with a "come hither" curl of his index finger as he pantomimed the act of whispering something urgent via his cupped hand over his mouth and shifty eyes. Kosaburo leaned forward and bought the boy's act hook, line, and sinker.
"DON'T CALL ME YAHIKO-KUN! CALL ME MASTER YAHIKO!"
Predictable as the events had been, the shout still blindsided Kosaburo like an out-of-control, six-horse carriage. "Ow. Aw, c-come on, Yahiko-shihan! I can't call you that here! You'll embarrass me in front of the guys!"
"You're embarrassing us right now, Kosaburo!" A tall, lean man with a cactus bristle of hair over his chin growled as he pushed his subordinate aside and faced the defiant Adjutant Master. "Hey. I remember you. You're the real Battousai's kid sidekick, aren't you?"
Yahiko's face remained neutral as he puffed his chest outward in challenge of the uncouth person in front of him. "May I help you?"
The man sneered and chuckled as he rubbed his stubbly chin. "You don't remember who I am, do you?"
Yahiko raised an eyebrow, tilted his head down, and looked at "what's-his-face" from beneath his brow ridges. "Should I?"
"I am the person who fought the Battousai to a standstill," the officer hissed.
Yahiko wiped the older cop's spittle from his face. "You're a liar."
"Then you do know me!" The snarling police officer attempted to grab Yahiko's collar and pull him close, but came up short as the boy sidestepped his advance in barely a second.
"I know that I can count the people who can fight Kenshin to a standstill on one hand," Yahiko retorted.
The officer harrumphed. "I'm Ujiki Mitsuru of the Jigen School. I was the captain of the Satsuma Branch of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, but I was demoted because of Himura Battousai's connections to Yamagata. Fortunately, I was able to rise from the ranks, and..."
"Yeah. Okay. Here you are now. That's nice." Yahiko would've left this exchange at that had he not felt the need to correct Ujiki. "Uh, Kenshin married Kaoru and is part of the Kamiya family now, so he's been 'Kamiya Kenshin' instead of 'Himura Kenshin' for five years already." He also wanted to correct Akahori and Soujiro's referral to Kenshin as 'Himura', but this was the first time he ever got the opportunity to do so.
He stepped aside Ujiki's path and went straight for Kosaburo. "Who the heck's manning the Kamiya Dojo? Kaoru's too busy with Kenji to be a full-time instructor, you know."
"Well, since you, Yutaro-shihan, and even little Outa had left, I figured that I might as well join this skirmish. I've been here for three weeks now."
Yahiko blinked. "Three weeks, eh? That's... really interesting."
Unnerved by Yahiko's dismissive attitude, Ujiki taunted, "I've heard Battousai has become a cripple now, giving up his sword for the sake of getting a family. Serves him right; a murderer like him deserves nothing less than..."
"Complete that sentence, and you'll be breathing through your neck," Yahiko dared, taking a hold of his wrapped-up sword.
"Oh-ho. You dare assault an officer of the law? Bring it on, kid. And you, Kosaburo! How dare you intermingle with the friend of a murderer like Battousai!"
Kosaburo protested, "But Captain Ujiki, he's my kendo instructor! Sure, he's a lot younger than me, but I'm still the only one keeping you abreast about what's going on with Mister Kamiya!"
Just then, Akahori put his gloved hands together, rubbed them hard three times, and then used them to clap loudly and catch everyone's attention. "In any event, let's now move on to tonight's mission. Everybody, form five lines and group each other according to the place or faction you belong to. Afterwards, introduce yourselves to each other by group. From there, I'll debrief your designated leaders regarding your battle stations and individual tasks. Myojin Yahiko and friend, you can stand at the back of the Togakudan line if you still want to join in on our operation. The policemen from Tokyo will start the ceremonies."
Ujiki harrumphed, turned his back on Yahiko, did a sidelong glace, and spat, "You were lucky we were interrupted. I have other things to do."
Yahiko rolled his eyes and turned his back at almost the same time as Kenshin's past victim. "Whatever. I have nothing more to say to you anyway."
Torn between two superiors, Kosaburo yelped, "Wait up, Captain!" at Ujiki.
Yahiko left in a huff to join the only other pair of individuals he could identify aside from Ujiki and the browbeaten Kosaburo. However, he could only locate Minoe; Gan had disappeared into the crowd as well. 'I hope that lummox doesn't start a fight with the Togakudan or something.'
"Minoe, come here," Raedo beckoned with a grunt. "Bring your 'friends' with you. Akahori-sama orders it so."
"What is this, elementary school?" Yahiko muttered the same sentiment a lot of the officers and spies gathered in the ballroom shared.
To be Continued...
Next: An expected visitor.
The Four Butchers or the Shidai Nikuya included the man whom Kenshin was modeled after: Kawakami Gensai, the girly yet deadly hitokiri; a gratuitous but appropriate mention, methinks. Moreover, in the manga, Yahiko and Ujiki (the policeman who got owned by Kenshin with a single sword strike) never met.
Moreover, the long, drawn-out speech Akahori made is based on the one George Washington delivered on March 15, 1783 to stop the Continental Army from creating an insurgence. I believe it's quite the appropriate sermon to use given the context.
Wala na akong masabi,
Abdiel