A/N: Hello hello; how have you been? Long time no see. I never told you this guys but I moved! So now, I think I finally settled in at our new home and our new...normal so to speak. It's been stressful but I think I finally got the hang of it. Anywho, new update! I swear I will eventually post a new chapter on my main story but it is not this time; or month. Hopefully it will be this year.
Without further ado, new chapter!
Title: Misses Brightside
Genre: Romance, angst, historical
Alternative Universe: Historically Accurate, with emphasis on history
It'd been a month since the lord left the house; this month, Tokio had cemented herself as the lady of the house even to the naysayers that treated her sex as grounds for immediate dismissal. She was holding herself in high esteem and regard and many of the warriors of the house had taken in a positive light her occasional appearances in men's clothing, thinking she was doing it to fit in…the truth was, she wasn't doing it for that reason, but for another, far more important one: Hajime had been teaching her hand-to-hand combat.
This was an idea he took to immediately—after the incident with that rich guy who wanted to marry her in any way possible, she had seen the imperativeness to be able to hold her own. He had readily agreed to intensify the lessons and introduce self-defense techniques in her training regime, too, as he would feel more confident in her safety. Thus, he brought her the clothes needed from one of his direct subordinates who was more of her size and they took to training.
She had easily graduated from defensive to offensive moves and between that, her bow and knife training, only thing lacking was spear handling and Tokio would be a regular Onna-musha. The idea alone made Saitou smile. After all, her mistress was somewhat of an Onna-musha herself—no doubt thrilled her lady-in-waiting was following in her footsteps.
Not to say that these lessons weren't a great escape for him, too. In the context of training, he's been hurling the woman over his shoulder free of consequence, getting his anger at the world out on her in a fun, controlled way. And Tokio is such a great sport, too: never complains with a rough throw, only picks herself up and tries harder for the next one. And liking it or not, she got to toughen up a little bit, too. Maybe not the best thing for a woman, an unmarried one as well, but if a man wouldn't want to have her because she knew how to throw him over her shoulder, then that was just their own fault. There was nothing more entertaining than a challenging partner—mentally, physically, either one or both. He hadn't really thought about it lately, but he was always of the opinion that one's partner should be at least interesting. A woman kicking your ass definitely was interesting. So, any sane man should be happy with that…right?
Once he had brought it up in passing with his three men, no names given, and they sort of agreed, but not really. They said it was desirable so long as it doesn't affect the physique; on one hand, soft women were a good thing. But women who could defend themselves lived longer.
Not that Tokio was in any fear of becoming muscly, no; she would still eat her sweets and he'd tease her about it, but at least now she didn't skip the fifteen-minute workout he had given her. Seeing it would take her at least two hours a day for any results to start showing, he felt he was doing more good than harm to the woman. Then again, she herself had no interest in marriage—but that could change of course, he knew that much.
Still, so focused he was on her and her progress with her training, he lost some of his interest and focus on the outside world that surrounded them. Namely, one month and a week after the lord had left, he found out there was a small – tiny – army headed their way.
"I see your ladyship is aware of the issues," he had commented, after a briefing was over, seeing he was far more surprised than her at the developments.
"I've been aware of it a little before the lord left; I even asked his lordship, Matsudaira-sama for advice on the subject and it looks like I'll go with plan B." A pause. "Seeing they are almost at our doorstep."
"You did mention this at some point during our training…didn't you?" She nodded. "Why don't I recall?"
"You do, obviously. But I never elaborated because I assumed your correspondence with Matsudaira-sama was similar to mine."
He was a little ashamed to admit, but "I have neglected that lately." She shook her head. "We'll make do; what is our official stance here? War?"
"Well, they do want to kill any man who participated against the Patriots in the Boshin wars, which makes all of you, and they want to marry the women off to their friends or themselves. Plus, they feel they deserve our resources because they are not traitorous scum like us. What other choice do we have?"
He exhaled; he had never expected the fighting to come to them. "Do you want me to prepare defenses?"
"Yes please; I'll deal with the logistics, you deal with the preparation, including stations, people and objects. You tell me the what, when, why and how; I execute it. I'll take point with servants and the women." She sighed. "Thankfully this finds us at a moment we have plenty of men, because we'll need all the help we can get."
"We'll pull through," he said with his mouth but his eyes conveyed I've survived worse odds; her sad smile seemed to wordlessly reply I know; I trust you.
"We still have your training to consider; I say we should make it longer, in light of recent announcements."
"Yes please; I need a lot more practice with hand-to-hand combat."
"As her ladyship wishes."
Before anyone knew it, the house was in an uproar: warriors sharpening their swords and training their minds while servants were coming and going to serve them in feverish tempos, while the ladies remaining wouldn't stop crying, shaking and trying to appear collected. After all, the scars of war were fresh on all of them—they didn't deserve this, damn it. But, they tried to keep it all under wraps because the less prepared their opponent thought they were, the better.
The day for the fray came, half a week later; the insurgents appeared at the horizon line, a little after sunrise; the crier rang the bell and immediately went to personally alert Hajime – seeing he was the head guard – and they together left to tell Tokio.
"As we discussed," was all she said to all of the women who had hid themselves in her room; she had already been up so she met the two men coming for her halfway and they all went to the garden. She had arranged for a warrior's outfit, close to her measurements to be delivered last night in Saitou's bedroom and she had opted for a kimono for now, just in the slim chance the enemy would be willing to negotiate.
"I don't approve of your attire, but if you're persistent…" he had said when she had announced it yesterday night. He was insistent that she took knives with her though; and have protection. Which was why Hajime was quick to tell her as soon as he saw her "Katsuya Saiki asked – and I allowed – to escort you to negotiations. Seeing I will need to organise the men, I decided to grant him this privilege. He's trustworthy and strong. He's a good choice."
"I trust your judgement," she assured him, but that only served to put him on edge because now if the man did anything stupid, or wrong, he'd feel twice as responsible. "But I doubt they will try anything stupid."
He said nothing. He'd seen such stupid things happening on the battlefield. But neither one of them was a simpleton. She had hand-written them a note, tied it to an arrow and handed it to Hajime to throw it – because he was so much stronger than her so it would travel much farther – and watched as they picked up the note and read it. After some talks between themselves and some commotion between the ranks, they watched as their leaders asked for their horses and then mounted them.
"You may go now," Saitou told the two people who were on their own horses as well, waiting for his cue.
"Perfect. We'll be back soon; hopefully, we'll have good news."
"Tokio, they brought an army almost a hundred strong to your doorstep, clad in armor. They didn't do this for fun, but intimidation. And if that doesn't work, for their ultimate assault."
"Oh hush; wish us luck."
"I won't be able to keep a direct eye on you so I have the lookout ready to come to me if anything happens. Other than that, best of luck. Tell me of the encounter once you return." She nodded, never failing to notice a horse that was just standing around, ready to be ridden, in case of an emergency. "Ride hard."
Once both people had a good hold of the reigns, he slapped the horse into action; he watched them go for a moment and then rushed to his soldiers. It felt ten minutes later that he saw them again, so many things he had to take care of, but it was in fact an hour. He had no doubt in his mind, not a single one, they'd be riding into battle. And when Tokio returned and asked to see him immediately he was proven right, as expected. What he did not expect, though, was what he saw.
"What is this?"
"Forgive me Fujita-san."
They were both heard at the same time, from the two men currently with her. Or, should one say, the moment the first one opened his mouth, the second rushed to apologise. Of course, that was a survival instinct, as far as Saiki was concerned, because Tokio came back to the compound safe…but not entirely sound. It wasn't anything life threatening, or serious—it was barely visible from afar, in fact. But Saitou noticed it easily simply because it wasn't there before and, being the one to be throwing her around lately, he took care not to hit her face.
But now, the entire left side of it had an angry, red handprint.
"What happened?" he asked instead.
"Negotiations broke down," she said, as dignified as she could and started walking to Saitou's room, to change from her kimono to her battle gear.
"I only need a description," he repeated and this once looked at his subordinate.
"There's no need—"
"He wears red samurai armor; he had brown eyes and hair and he was called Kumato Shinji—one of their leaders."
Tokio was not happy with him; Saitou nodded. "You may go with the rest." Bowing, he turned about and did as his commander instructed; Saitou turned to Tokio. "Why?"
"…he did not appreciate the lord was away and it was me, a woman, who was sent to negotiate terms."
"What else happened that I may need to know about?"
"They reiterated their intentions but were willing to compromise: if we gave up the women and the compound, they'd spare the men."
"…interesting."
He'd think they'd propose something to the effect of, give up your riches and we'll spare the women and children, but he was wrong. It was the women they were more interested in that their presumed slight to the Meiji government. Considering all of them were Satsuma men…suspicious.
"Any thoughts you had you feel like it's important I know of?"
"Ken, the blue clad one, was eerily quiet; felt he was the true brains of the entire operation."
They stopped in front of his room; she went inside with him closing the door behind her. "Did they give you any specifics as to why they are doing this?"
"None other than the fact they think we are cattle because we lost the war…so no resources should go to us or our sympathizers. Also, apparently, they want the women to bear proper children." She shuddered, even if no one was around to see it. "I said no." she opened the door. "They didn't like it. Tie me up at the back, can you?"
He readily obliged.
"Then again, if I found out one of the resources they were looking for, was you, I wouldn't be surprised." His hands stopped. "They alluded to it; the Shinji character seemed excited at the prospect of meeting you on the field again, when Saiki tried to intimidate him into it."
"I fought against him at the Bonari Pass but I never really met him personally. Or maybe I did and I don't remember him." He pat her on the shoulder. "Ready."
"Thank you."
"Remember what we talked about?" She nodded. "Keep your wits about you. Seeing someone getting stabbed in front of you, is much different than being the one doing the stabbing—especially for the first time. Don't let it scare or nauseate you, if it happens. If you feel light headed, breathe deeply. If it doesn't work, pinch yourself hard." She nodded. "Can you do this?"
"Yes."
He gave her a long, hard look. When he saw she wasn't actually budging, he was satisfied. "Let's get to our posts."
"Be safe out there," she wished him just before they parted.
"I'll be okay; you take care of yourself. And if you feel overwhelmed, remember: it's okay to run away." She nodded again, this once slower, to show her appreciation, other than her comprehension. "Though I do promise to do my best, so you won't need it. See you in a few hours."
In the end, he saw her sooner than expected, but much sooner than desired; because it wasn't at the natural end of the conflict, despite him single-handedly causing it, during their meeting. In fact, while the fight was raging, he could see that the enemies…they were surprisingly easily overwhelmed. he would notice they had virtually no casualties, in contrast with their enemies. Were they that skilled or did the enemies amass a mismatched army of men, just so they could have a large number to intimidate them…or distract them with? Were their enemies' leaders purposefully sacrificing their men to succeed at their hidden agenda?
Then—Tokio! Tokio and all of the women left were their true purpose for coming here; that's what his gut was telling him.
Knocking out his opponent he turned about and headed to the compound as fast as he could. The only ones keeping watch back there were the lookout, two guards and Tokio, nobody else. Because he didn't even think that people would try to sneak inside—so that vermin could easily make his way inside when no one's looking—too big an area for four sets of eyes. He started running, as the more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. And to think he had the nerve to say he'd be looking for him or waiting for him on the battlefield…either his distractions methods were too good or he was simple audacious.
Either way, he'd learn his lesson; Hajime would make sure.
He just hadn't expected he'd be teaching him his lesson in front of an audience. The vermin had made it all the way in front of the last corridor leading to Tokio's – and his and his men, he supposed – bedroom, sword still in its scabbard, not smelling of blood. Meaning, he was right—he snuck inside! Tch, piece of filth. His people were dying all around because of his cause, no matter what that was and he had the nerve to go about his business in such a clandestine and carefree manner. He didn't even have his hand over the hilt of his sword—he was that carefree.
He shook his head disappointed right before he made his presence known, by drawing his sword. The sound finally alerted the intruder to Hajime's appearance, who did not look at all deterred or anxious about it.
Heh, big mistake.
That, or he had rigged the place with explosives, but he highly doubted it, as he couldn't help but notice a drawn breath. He didn't have to look to know Tokio was behind the rice paper wall, arrow at the ready, aiming at the man, when Saitou got in the arrow's way, hence her holding her breath or generally taking a deep breath because she almost shot! Well, he had seen her before the drawn breath, one of the reasons he chose to make his presence known that moment.
"Saitou Hajime, in the flesh!" the red-clad man took a deep theatrical bow, never drawing his sword, all smiles and cheer. "We finally meet again, my friend. It's been so long."
But Hajime didn't have the patience for him. "I heard you wanted to meet me; how foolish."
No one saw it happen—neither Tokio, nor his opponent; it happened in the blink of an eye. That's because he deployed speed he hadn't used or needed since his last fight with Hitokiri Battousai some odd years ago: one moment he was one corridor away, the next, he was already standing next to the man, sword at the enemy's throat not quite touching him, but the vermin could feel the heat of the blade all the same.
"Wait, wait, wait! You got this all wrong. Uh, I mean you no harm; literally. Your reputation precedes you everywhere. The man who sent us here, sent us with two specific objectives: at least three women and one lone swordsman." He was speaking fast and back tracking, uncomfortable and scared how every step was matched by Saitou. That's why he didn't dare use his chin, as was his first instinct, but used his already raised "I come in peace" hands to point at Hajime. "Says a man who survived so many battles could be nothing but an asset; and I agree. S, so, here we are. C-come with us and serve under his highness Saigo Takamori."
Why was he not surprised to hear that name from the man's lips? Even now, Satsuma attacks are unavoidable. But to be such a fool and say the name of his lord so easily…maybe the other man really was the brains of the operations—or did this filth really think the name alone would be enough to convince him to follow him? How ridiculous.
"Wh-what do you say?" a gulp. "After all, fights are fights; there's nothing personal…Kurasawa, Takamori—a lord is a lord and there's no lofty cause you're fighting for anymore, right? S, so join us…you'll be richer than you ever were. And be celebrated as the war hero that you are…!"
Hajime lowered his sword then; he could feel Tokio's glare at the back of his head but he could also see the man's confidence rise. The best moment to strike it down. "Tell his highness looking for men in the ranks of turncoats never ends well."
He had never sheathed his sword; it appeared that only now did Shinji realise it: when Saitou's smirk widened and his muscles contracted.
And yet, Shinji didn't want to give up, not just yet! After all, his life was on the line. "B, but you're not a turncoat! What are you talking about? You were still fighting for the shogun, even after he abdicated."
"Wrong. I fought for the Shinsengumi who, in turn, fought for our lord, Matsudaira Katamori until he surrendered. Even now, I fight for my lord Matsudaira Katamori through my lord's retainer, lord Kurasawa Heijiemon."
That's when all colour left the man's face as his eyes kept looking furtively at his sword; the smirk became crooked on Saitou's face. "And currently, in the absence of the lord, I fight for the lady of the house, named as such by the man himself in my presence as witness, Takagi Tokio." Hajime could swear he saw the man's soul leave his body; good. That was the goal. "And it would be quite the betrayal to just let you take three of the women with you and then follow you. Besides, it is personal."
Finally, the smirk disappeared and nothing but unadulterated despise etched itself on his face.
"At least, I take it as a personal insult when you come into my home, threaten my lady, and presume I'd ever let you get away with it."
The man blinked once more.
By the time his eyes opened again blood flew in a terrible, red arch as a hand fell to the wooden floor; Shinji's terrible scream followed it. That's when Saitou finally sheathed his sword, after swiping it free of blood, letting the man fall to his knees in pain, still screaming, doing his best to hug his hand. Saitou lit a torch and threw it at him, disdain almost palpable.
"Cauterize that; don't want you dying of shock or blood loss. You need to tell all these things to his highness, after all. Oh, and while you're at it, tell him to choose his men more wisely." Hajime clicked his tongue. "Oh, stop screaming; here, I'll help you do it."
Unforgivingly, he grabbed the torch, pushed it onto the openly bleeding elbow end of the severed limb and didn't stop until the blood did. Once it happened, the man pitifully moaning and whining like an injured animal, he put the torch out and threw it at him.
"Now go." Shinji looked up at him only half-conscious yet at the same time, terrified. "Go on, stand and leave." He didn't say anything, only intensified the look and almost pleaded. "Are you that pathetic you can't even speak? Fine…I'll help you leave, too."
He grabbed the man by the back of his kimono collar and started dragging him on the floor.
"Come out from back there and follow me," he spoke to the wall where Tokio was standing behind as he passed it and he was relieved to see she did it immediately. She was still slightly agape from the entire previous scene that had just unfolded in front of her, but she simply rushed to put her arrow in its place and the bow around her as she rushed to take the man's sword from his hip as Saitou dragged him. Once that was finished, she tied the man's sword around her hip and pulled out her bow again. She didn't say anything to him, nor he to her, for the entire way to the small battlefield at their front gate.
When they emerged, Shinji in toe, everything seemed to stop and focus on them. Satisfied by the attention, Saitou literally hurled him to the open space in front of him.
She appreciated how he didn't take the spotlight after this, but instead, he created an opportunity for her to make a point. She took a firm step forward and addressed the people around her.
"You can come take him away; then, you can all leave peacefully, without any fear of any arrows in your back. But…if even one of you so much as tries to turn around and fight again, you'll get an arrow straight in your chest. Am I understood?"
There he was; the blue-clad samurai, Ken, stepped forward and draped his fellow leader over his shoulder. "You are fair as you are clear; we are leaving. We have lost this fight…"
"And the war," she assured, thundering.
"Allow me to disagree."
"Ask your friend, once he comes to. He'll tell your lord, his highness, one of the three pillars of—"
"—I understand!" he cut Saitou off before the name was publicly mentioned and then there was no coming back. "We'll be leaving and won't be coming back…at least, not us." She gave a graceful nod; he returned it with a curt one. "Come men, we are leaving; now!"
The numbness of those men was evident in their postures and their apprehension. But when Ken only shouted the same command louder, everyone seemed to snap out of whatever trance they were in and try to disengage.
"No one will harm you as you retreat," Tokio assured, making sure to look at a couple of more enthusiastic of her men, "I already said so. Go swiftly now."
They couldn't be too fast, seeing they had to drag around wounded – dead were left behind for the victors to deal with – but none slowed their feet on purpose; there were plenty who would keep looking back, over their shoulder, to make sure no sneak attack came, but true to her word, no man moved against them. They all stood there, watching, waiting…one wrong move and they'd all be dead, but it looked like no one felt like risking their neck after Shinji was in a state.
No sooner than the enemies had disappeared, her own men seemed to breathe a laboured sigh of relief, and all shoulders seemed to sag at the same time. Swords were sheathed, bows lowered and no one knew who started it, but before long, everyone was laughing at the unexpectedly great turn of events. Hoorays and huzzas were shouted all around, once the mirth subsided, for the capable leaders; yes, leaders. Both Tokio and Hajime were being equally recognized for the outcome, to her complete and utter surprise.
Of course, as far as Hajime was concerned, it was only natural: a general is as important as a diplomat; the lady of the house even more important than a glorified bodyguard. But it was entertaining to watch her concealed shock and almost misty eyes.
What a sentimental idiot.
Still, she managed to compose herself, not shed a single tear as she addressed her men. "Let us make sure all of the dead are respected; once we have put the place in order, we may tend to our wounds, unless they are life threatening, then they take precedent. Then please, let's all eat and rest."
Not one man needed telling twice.
The long and arduous process was concluded several hours later, when the servants were thanking men as they handed them their bowl of food and the remaining women would entertain them with music or conversation. The two figureheads naturally were there throughout the small celebrations, as they were there while bodies were being dragged to the side, but it was only the two of them, later that night in her office that were discussing about their next move.
She was writing to everyone: Matsudaira-sama, Kurasawa-sama, Teruhime-sama…even Ken, she was sending him a missive if he wanted to pick up their dead to send a carriage, seeing they weren't too many people. She was being extremely nice, he'd told her; they would have never afforded her the same. She had seen enough dead bodies for a lifetime, she had countered; and just because someone doesn't have manners, that's no excuse to forget hers, too. He called her soft in return. But she did not miss the small smile on his face as he did so.
When all was said and done, she put her brush down. She sighed a huge sigh of relief then; he watched keenly as she almost doubled over her writing station but when she simply heaved another deep sigh, he relaxed.
"Thank you, Hajime," was heard from the pile of clothes she'd made of herself. "Thank you for everything. I would've never done this without you."
"No need to thank me for doing my job."
A snorted chuckle. "Could have stabbed everyone in the back and left without anyone knowing."
"I'd know."
A small silence followed that statement.
Things were left unsaid between them then, but not really; not when this pause was filled with understanding. Without ever looking up, or even being able to see him as she was buried underneath her huge sleeves, he still felt seen by her. And her, for all her airs and graces and always knowing the right thing to say, she felt like saying nothing more, lest her feelings betrayed her—feelings she knew he knew she was hiding on purpose.
He allowed her to rest like that for more than thirty minutes; these thirty minutes, she didn't move a single muscle. He wasn't certain if she'd fallen asleep or not, but she easily moved when he lightly shook her into action, once his arbitrarily set amount of time had passed. He wouldn't lie and say she wasn't adorable with her hooded eyes, weighed down by exhaustion and the need to hide from the world, looking slightly disoriented…but determined. She never complained, she knew she was the leader, so she had to bear the duty of being there for everyone and look tireless and strong, even if she felt like neither in this moment.
"Let's go encourage the troops," she murmured, rubbing her bleary eyes.
"Don't sound too excited about it," he teased as he offered her something to hold on to.
She set her chin high, as she took his offered arm. "I am proud to announce I have more than a year to find myself in a battlefield, so I fell out of habit with these crazy rhythms."
"…here is to hoping you don't find yourself in any sort of battlefield, ever again."
Following his statement, she did something he had never expected to happen to him, causing him to pause, just for a second. She felt his buzzing energy and started regretting it for a long moment, both of their energies feeding off of each other's hesitation. There was a held breath…but when he said nothing, did nothing to retract his steady arm, and settled into the unfamiliar feeling, she too relaxed and leaned in closer.
When her other hand found its way around his, squeezing, his heart started pounding; when her head touched his shoulder, he swore his heart stopped; and when it finally started beating again, she was leaning onto him fully.
This wasn't the first time this happened to him. But it was the first time it happened with someone like her. His brain was trying to protest his instinctive reaction—what's someone like her anyway? What does that even mean? He hated how he could answer that easily, because, it meant, well, real. She wasn't paid to do it, she wasn't made to do it, she wasn't doing it out of courtesy or trying to get something out of him or sweet-talk him into something. She did it because she felt like doing it—because she wanted to feel supported.
That's what made his heart stop for that one second. That's what, to this day, makes him upset about the fact she kissed him that night. She really didn't have to. And when he was feeling so worthless, him receiving any sort of validation hurt. And the fact he was able to admit it now didn't make him feel any less fucked up than before—only more self-aware. Then again, she did say admitting the problem, was the first step to fixing it.
His long sigh made her look, inquisitive but a tad shy. He sensed her eyes but said nothing, just kept walking with her. Maybe, deep down, he was enjoying it. Maybe more than he should.
"I'm not trying to impose on you…" she tried to excuse her behavior in an uncharacteristic drawl, as she struggled to find the right words before she spoke them into existence "this just makes me feel better; you make me feel better. I only hope this isn't making you feel worse."
He considered.
Looking down towards her, even now, she still hadn't stopped doing what she was doing; only looked at him while doing it. "Not worse," he finally admitted "…but complicated."
Her drawn breath, released without producing any real sound, let him know she had something to say but decided against it, especially when she realised he wasn't going to talk about this any longer. Deeming any further attempt at conversation as lost cause, she exhaled and sagged against him all the more. The surge of pride he felt, he was certain, had nothing to do with his little victory over her and everything to do with her small frame clinging onto his for support, for the first time.
.
The lord had come back with as much haste as his trip could allow him, which was in a week and a half later. Tokio was the one who was waiting for him at the gate, in the company in one of the three men Hajime had in his small company. Right before he met with them, he was walking hurriedly, leaning forward; he stopped but a moment to take a small bow at Tokio's deep one and kept walking inside, forcing the other two to follow immediately. He was asking questions in rapid fire succession, giving them limited time to answer.
But when all of the answers were positive and nothing at all like what he was expecting to hear, he literally had to stop mid-step and look all around him. Nothing was…destroyed. The gardens were a little trampled, but they were already in the road to recovery; some walls that must have been damaged were already as good as new—he could tell because they actually looked newer than the rest. And whenever someone passed them by, they would first bow and salute Tokio and then – most of them mortified – would notice the lord and bow to him, red-faced.
Eyebrows raised as high as they could go, he turned to his ward.
"I see I hurried over for no reason. It looks like you have everything truly under control, exactly as you wrote in your letter." A small smile formed, kind of self-depreciating. "Impressive."
"Our lady was more than capable of pushing the enemies back; truly an exemplary leader." Tokio's shy and appreciative smile was sweet, shared by Katsuya Saiki, but he kept talking. "Of course, Fujita-san's contribution was decisive in our success as well."
"Naturally," she reassured "we couldn't have done it without him in fact."
"Yes, they were a very impressive couple, my lord." She hid her giggle in her sleeve and he went on. "He was very impressive when he threw a man over his shoulder; and then Tokio-sama commanded them to leave—and they did!"
His laughter was boisterous; she tried not to be too self-satisfied. Even more impressed than two minutes ago, the lord nodded knowingly. He was indeed right in choosing her as his stand-in; he was also correct in putting his faith in Fujita, or Hajime, or whatever he preferred to call himself nowadays. Although…he didn't like the way "couple" sounded, when the man referred to the two of them. Shaking his head of that little detail for now, he allowed the two people in front of him to give him more information about the attack and how it was repelled. Of course, he'd have to talk to Fujita, too and get his side of the fray as well, but it never hurt to have plenty of witness accounts. Ten minutes later, he dismissed both of them and was left alone with his thoughts.
.
"Fujita-san, come, come; come inside. Close the door behind you, too." The lord looked over the man's shoulder. "No one followed you, yes?"
"No one my lord; is there something you wanted to share and you fear someone might hear?"
He laughed. "Yes and no. Come, sit; we need to talk about this matter."
The body language said this wasn't going to be a bad thing, but Hajime couldn't see where this was going, so he was very cautious when he sat across from the man.
"I want to reward Tokio for all of her hard work." It was said with finality. "She went above and beyond, all this time I was away. I want to find a way to show my appreciation for all of her efforts."
A small pause followed, to give the man time to digest the news. "You did the same, of course." A devious smile graced the lord's lips. "But the subject of what your reward should be, will be discussed with others."
Hajime was quick to shake his head and try to deny the reward, claiming that was why he was stationed there the way he was, especially when he had taken time off of the scuffles to heal – mentally mostly, but that tidbit he had never shared with his lordship – but the man simply waved him away. "You cannot change my mind about this, just accept it; instead, put your mind to what to reward Tokio with."
"A bow my lord."
It rolled off his tongue easier and faster than the lord would have expected. "A bow? As in bows and arrows—a weapon for her?"
He nodded. "Much like her ladyship, Teruhime-sama, Tokio enjoys learning new things that help her protect herself at the same time. She has been taking quite a liking to the bow lately and I am surprised to say the bow has taken to her, as well." It was all news to his lordship, he could tell by his expression, but he looked quite receptive to it, to his credit. "So, I believe, a hand-crafted bow from a skilled artisan, would be the most fitting gift for her, after her latest achievement."
"…are you quite certain, Fujita-san? A hand-crafted bow?" He nodded. "For Tokio?" He nodded again. "Well, if you say so…"
"If you are not comfortable with that my lord, please feel free to ask someone else for ideas; I know I am a warrior and you think my mind naturally goes to that…well, you aren't wrong. But I do know she would also appreciate it, too."
"No, no; I trust your judgement." A snort. "Everyone I asked, said you'd know best anyway. And if you say bow, then bow it is." He looked pensive suddenly. "I have a couple of people in mind about that but, ahem, just in case things go less than ideal, do you maybe know someone who could hand-craft a bow?"
Hajime thought long and hard.
"Not here, no. I know someone, but he's in hiding and I haven't looked him up yet to learn his new name. But," Hajime put his hands up, a little defensive "if nothing goes right and you have no one else to turn to…I can help. I have some experience with it form my Shin—…older days."
"You do? Oh, what a relief! Good; good, good! Perfect. I mean, I hope you're not needed but I'll let you know, should your expertise be required—it would save me so much trouble…! If they say no."
"Of course, my lord; it would be my pleasure."
Hm…somehow, Hajime felt like the lord had already made the choice to use him for the bow-crafting. Not that he minded; it would be an effective way for him to do something nice for her, as well, for a change.
"You are lifting a great weight off of my shoulders, Fujita-san." A nod. "You can go for now, tend to your duties from which I am always keeping you."
The lord waited until he had stood, bowed and was already heading to the exit to ask, in a very different tone of voice: "how are your injuries, by the way?" Even his demeanour changed a little, became more serious than ten seconds ago. "I never asked; were they exacerbated by the fight? Do you ultimately need more time away from the fray?"
"I…don't think so. But I will check again with the doctor."
"Check with the doctor more frequently; and take your time with healing." Another nod. "Have a nice day, Fujita-san."
Alright; that was weird. It felt…forced. What happened? Thoughts raced across his mind, but in the end, nothing stuck; no one thing felt more possible than the other, so, for the first time in his life, he decided not to worry about it. He did have the impression the lord was going to come back to him very soon, so, if anything still felt out of place, he could push for more information then. Shrugging, he walked to the "training grounds", aka that remote garden spot, where the woman of the hour was waiting for him, in her training attire, ready to try – and fail – to throw Hajime over her shoulder.
At the thought, the smile on his face was involuntarily.
.
"Fujita-san wouldn't like a reward, my lord. Definitely not a material one." She was very absolute apparently, as the lord seemed quite surprised at her statement, so she rushed to explain. "I don't think it's a bad thing; if anything, recognition for his hard work is great. But I don't think he'd like it, necessarily. How about something…immaterial?"
"Immaterial?"
She nodded. "How about a visit to some place that has meaning to him? Or maybe a night out?"
"Huh…it doesn't sound terrible. And you are the only one who gave me a good idea for a gift." They shared a smile. "Why don't you go ask him which one he prefers?"
"Of course, my lord." She bowed; when she rose again, he was expecting her to do something. "O-oh…you mean now?"
"Yes dear."
"Well, we have to write communications to Matsudaira-sama and her ladyship now; and I can meet with Fujita-san later in the day."
"I see…" He didn't speak for a long moment; the silence felt a little loaded but she didn't know why. But when he spoke again, all of her misgivings were dispelled. "Then let's get on with our business and you can come to me with all the hot gossip tonight. Or tomorrow." She giggled. "So, let's start."
.
"Hajime, what have you missed the most about your lifestyle before the fall of the Aizuwakamatsu?"
He was taken so aback by her question, he stopped sharpening his sword and looked up to her for a long time—such a long time in fact, she had to address his prying gaze. She spared a knowing look for him, moving her wrist with flourish, but easily went back to her writing.
"What seems to be the issue kind sir?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"Can't I be curious?"
He went back to his whetstone and blade then, looking down with a teasing smirk. "How rude of you to ask something like that out of the blue…but you tell me yours and I promise I'll tell you mine."
"Oh, I see; you're being difficult just for the sake of being difficult."
He simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged with a take-it-or-leave-it nonchalance; she chuckled. "So be it; I will share."
She finally put her brush down, - let go of her sleeve, too seeing she was no longer in danger of getting ink on it – and stared off into the distance; the setting sun was low enough not to get in her eyes, but high enough to provide her with a wonderful view. Her eyes were seeing the sky of the village, but her mind's eye was feasting on rooftops upon rooftops, set ablaze by the very same setting sun. Kyoto was so beautiful, any time of year; but Aizu was prettier in the winter. She took a deep breath.
"I think what I miss the most is my leisurely walks."
She spoke with a lack of emotion, in fear her true feelings would overwhelm her. "The hurried steps of the women, trying to make me presentable before leaving the house; the bustle of people in the streets, selling buying, walking…then the commotion upon my return on the days I was late—and" a giggle "I loved being late." She sighed wistfully. "I missed going out of the house, just for fun. Now I only leave when I have to run some errand." She considered. "Well, I barely have time for anything other than my duties and self-appointed tasks to be honest, but…yeah, I miss it."
She dared not look at him; she feared he'd think her frivolous and spoiled.
"I miss patrolling."
His admission caught her off guard and she looked against her better judgement; he wasn't looking at her annoyed though. He wasn't looking at her to begin with—maybe he glanced her way a couple of times, at best. Instead, his own eyes were fixated upon the horizon, a glazed look in them, unmistakably replaying memories right before him.
"I miss…the freedom it brought with it."
After all, if he was patrolling it meant he could be out and about; he had to report so he wasn't confined to a house but he was bound to travel from their headquarters to wherever the person he had to report to was. Besides, patrolling—especially at night, meant he could go and have a drink at an establishment, share food with someone, or even be entertained and he didn't have to make an excuse for it. After all, most brawls did break out in such places. And they were indeed the best places to gather information.
But he hadn't done any of that for so, so long…it felt like his previous life was a far-away dream he had once and now he woke up to the cruel reality of leave, fight, come back; rinse and repeat. How inane.
They spent a long time in silence after that, lost in thought and memories. They never looked at one another also, but were both keenly aware of the other's presence. Somehow, it felt comforting, having that other person there, instead of humiliating, as he would have felt before. Before what exactly, he dared himself to think. He didn't like the answer he almost came to, mostly because of the complications it created, but he was shocked to come to it. The sound of their breathing only made it worse, but better.
Sitting there, talking about the past that was common but not quite; sharpening his sword as she wrote her letters, enjoying the silent moments. How…domestic.
"Hajime," she started after a very long pause "would you mind too much if I talked to the lord about giving you that patrol back, even for a day?"
He'd be lying if he said he was surprised by her words; somehow, she made the most selfless thing sound like he was the one doing her a favour and not the other way round.
"I'd think something soured in our relationship, if you didn't."
They both chuckled. "But if you get me my patrol back, you should bargain for your leisurely walk, too." The way she averted her eyes told him all he needed to know. "You shouldn't fight only for other people's comforts; it's okay to be a little selfish."
"That's very sweet of you." He clicked his tongue in distaste. "That's very…honourable of you?" He blew air out of his nose approvingly and that settled it; both went back to their previous task without really thinking about it. At least, that sword would be the sharpest it ever was once he was done with it, so much focus he brought back into it. And she, she swore she never had such nice results with her calligraphy before.
Well, now that she knew what he wanted, it would be much easier to give it to him, thinking the lord had all but tasked her with finding it out to make it a reality. She even had the scenario ready: with the pretense she and the women would go out one night, the lord would task him and his three men to do "research" around the areas establishments and see which ones were reputable or not. Such research would need at least three – ideally five – days, to be thorough and ensure their safety, so, she saddled him and his men with one night of babysitting them, after five of going out to have fun in different places.
Fair trade.
That was her pitch to the lord, the next morning, too; and those were the news he relayed to her tired tutor that evening, after a particularly nasty blow to his shin, to take his pain away. Was the blow deliberate? No. was it painful? Yes. But this news did make him feel a lot better and so excited he became, he forgot all about his pain. He even went so far as to lift her off of the ground and throw her over her shoulder! After a small yelp at the abrupt movement, she started laughing, in that awkward position she was in, giving herself the hiccups. In the end, he still threw her on the ground, but much more carefully than he usually would, how nice of him.
"First night's on Monday—two days from now. Go make your plans! Naturally, there will be no classes for these five days, I am no sadist. Be free of worries or duties and just…have fun."
She shrugged, all smiles and he returned a smirk of his own: oh they would; they would have so much fun…! And when he announced it to the other three, they almost broke down her door just to thank her! Sense won out in the end and they didn't of course, but the two days that followed, it was them always around her, helping and keeping her safe, out of gratitude and the need to talk to her without it appearing suspicious. She found it adorable. But she also found it lonely, for the days that followed, neither Hajime nor any of them was there to humor her or keep her company when the other women couldn't, wouldn't or she didn't want them around.
The Saturday she and the rest of the women were supposed to go out, she woke up, feeling anxious! She didn't know why, but anticipation along with nerves accompanied her that entire morning. She had gone out literally more than two dozen times; that was a lot for a woman, especially one of her age. She knew what to do, say but most importantly drink and eat at these things—she was never this anxious before, not even at her first time.
How odd.
Maybe it was the fact she hadn't gone out for so long and she had missed it terribly—of course she'd be looking forward to it. But something inside her told her it had more to do with the company she'd be keeping this time, rather than the outing itself. She tried not to linger on that thought.
"Look at you, all dressed-up…" he drawled, casually leaning against his doorframe. He had his hands in his sleeves, and a very scrutinizing look in his eyes.
She bowed in acknowledgment of his presence but not his comment, at least not yet, a picture-perfect lady. "Where are the rest?"
"Already there; decided you were taking too long and thought better go ahead and cavort with the other women."
The verb he used caused her to laugh out loud, quite unladylike indeed.
"Th, then we should…go, too," she managed between giggles, trying to salvage what remained of her image by hiding her mouth behind her sleeve.
He finally peeled himself off from the doorframe and straightened. Maybe he should have been honest and admitted that he just wanted to look at her a little longer, but he feared it would be more shock than flattery that would have caused her to oblige him. But he still felt like complimenting her.
"This is a really nice kimono though."
He didn't like how he elicited no obvious response from her, so he decided to do it again. "The colours suit you, too. Is this one of your mother's or a new one?"
"It's a new one," she answered, impressed he recalled that conversation so long ago. "The first thing the lord ever gifted me as his daughter; I just had no occasion to wear it."
"Hm…I like it. You look beautiful."
Just as she was about to thank him, she let the actual words sink in; her eyes snapped up to him, searching. When they didn't find what they were looking for – any sort of sarcasm or sense of teasing – she felt her cheeks and neck grow hot, as she stopped moving. They looked at one another for a long moment. Then, she bowed ever so gracefully, and took his arm, without him ever offering and almost buried her face in his sleeve.
Heh, he wouldn't admit it unless under threat of death, but he quite enjoyed how she would so casually and unprompted do that. Maybe he looked a little smug, too, as they made their way through the corridors.
"Thank you, Hajime…you look quite fetching in these garments, too," she complimented after a long breath, smile teasing "blues suit you quite nicely." A giggle. "Shame it's not cerulean."
He shook his head emphatically. "I am prohibited from wearing that colour by all three of my men."
That was the second time she threw her head back, laughing; he felt it was going to be a good night.
And he wasn't wrong either; he and his men were tasked with keeping them safe, sure, but the lord did tell them to enjoy themselves, more than once, not to mention the women were insistent on them joining their table and having a good time. Heh, not that they didn't have fun the rest of the week, maybe even more being just four men by themselves with no duties, just the four of them, going in and out of establishments. But he didn't expect to enjoy this so much, to be honest but it looks like women knew how to have fun, too.
At that observation, he knocked back what was left from his sake; when she dutifully filled it, he scoffed. "You are not the hostess, you know."
"Habit," she excused herself, shrugging "and I don't mind doing it for you."
"Careful, your ladyship," he gave her a meaningful look "the more allowances you make, the more space I'll be taking up."
She chuckled. "I don't mind that either."
He leaned towards her. "Be even more careful your ladyship," he warned, voice low and a little dangerous "you might get much more than you bargained for."
"If you don't like it, move."
Oh, she was having a major attitude: eyebrows high, nose turned up; she even turned her head away as if to scorn him…but he wasn't an idiot. And she knew he wasn't an idiot, so she knew there was no way he would move. Why would he? He was being spoiled and at the same time left alone with his thoughts, as the people talking and laughing all around them turned into nothing but white noise. If he wanted to initiate conversation, she'd humour him and carry it on, but not more than he was comfortable with. She read his moods, like she herself has once claimed; and he liked it. He also liked how she looked like she genuinely enjoyed his company, not simply tolerated him. And, if he was being entirely honest, he enjoyed her company, too.
"What are the two of you whispering about over there?" Yaso teased them.
"We aren't whispering, my dear" Tokio teased back readily, trying to stop Hajime from having a heart attack at the sudden attention "you are just being loud."
"I think you are trying to get Fujita-san drunk and alone, Tokio-sama," she kept teasing "in the hopes he tells you about his secret project."
Tokio shook her head amused, as the men and some of the women laughed. "I will have you know he sat there all by himself."
"I don't know; I did see you sit before him."
"I am just curious; in a healthy way. If I ask for information and they say no, I leave them alone."
Hajime smirked, taking a sip. "After asking ten times, yes…"
More comments, not just from Yaso, came flooding out of everyone and her "whose side are you on" glare was deemed adorable by the slightly inebriated tall man.
"If it makes you feel any better, he hasn't told anyone else, either," Heisuke chimed in, after everyone had their fill at teasing her.
"Indeed," Honda agreed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "He likes his secrets; but I know it has something to do with his lordship, as they've been awfully chummy lately."
The way her eyes gleamed at that sliver of information couldn't go unnoticed, even if he had a little more to drink than usual—and because of her filling his cup, too, funnily enough. So, he put an abrupt but immediate stop to this whole ordeal, by banging his sake cup on the table.
"There's no need to prolong this conversation; nothing will be revealed tonight and no conclusions need drawn. Everyone," he shot a piercing look to the loquacious Honda "should move on and find something else to entertain themselves with." A pause. "Such as Saiki's choice of clothes."
The man became instantly red, a mixture of anger yet shame written on his face. It must have been an inside joke for the other two laughed, almost secretly, at their friend's seeming plight.
"I don't understand the issue, Fujita-sama," Hachi, the youngest of the group spoke softly. "His dress is very fashionable."
"Exactly," Honda managed between heaving breaths and finally he broke out laughing.
Though no one followed his example, an epidemic of mirth and good humor broke out at their table. And just like that, the attention Yaso had brought to them was redirected. Satisfied, he had a sip of his sake; amused, Tokio took a sip of her own. Looks exchanged, eyebrows raised, they smiled in the rim of their cup.
The entire night was deemed a success. Nothing but a crowning achievement to finish off a rather amazing week. Tokio and Hajime were the last two people to leave the establishment, in nothing but each other's company. A drunken man had tried to make a move on Sakura, Honda got in the way and they had a row; plates broken, jugs smashed…and a mess of a table. So, they all left, to keep the women out of harm's way; Tokio, who was the one with the purse and the charisma to talk people into not being furious, stayed back to work out the details of this small ordeal. Naturally, the lady of the house couldn't remain unescorted either and Hajime delegated this task to himself.
So, they paid their tab and the broken plates and had the other company pay for the tables and offer an apology. As a proper lady, she offered her own apologies as well, for her men escalating things – they all had too much to drink – and they took their leave, with a happy owner waving them away.
"Did you enjoy yourself, Hajime?"
"It was fun watching Yaso throw sake at the big guy; it was funnier watching you pull noodles out of your hair."
She shook from laughter but also her head. "All this trouble to be presentable just to shower with miso."
"At least the kimono was spared."
"At the very least, yes…" A sigh. "Did you enjoy the week leading up to this night as well?"
"…we all did." He spared her a knowing glance. "Thank you Tokio; and not just from me. All four of us wanted to properly thank you."
"The lord wanted to do something nice for you anyway." Her smile was wide. "But don't be too grateful. My lord has gotten me up to organizing a tournament." At his question, she reiterated. "Yes, a tournament." He probed for further information with a nod. "You see, the men are coming back on Monday; and in the spirit of rewarding people, but not having money for more than one person, he decided to hold a competition." She rolled her eyes. "There are actually two potential prizes—a monetary one...and the other one is a kiss from the lady of the house."
His eyebrows raised very high when she capped it off by pointing at herself.
"Yeah, I hate it; I don't want to kiss strange men…But they'll have to choose only one of the prizes so I hope most will go for the money." A belaboured sigh escaped her. "But I can't even tell you to better make sure you win this tournament because you aren't allowed to participate."
Now he was very surprised.
"Tis a shame because you'd get money out of it…but at least, you can help in another way. Because you will be part of this, just not as a competitor. You'll be the final challenger! And in the slim chance someone beats you, then they get both prizes—but, as the lord said, the reason he isn't allowing you to participate is because you'll dominate the competition right off the bat, so I am not worried."
He had to smile. "So, I am tasked with the incredibly important task of keeping your lips chaste."
"Indeed you are, good sir."
"I can talk about it to my three men and convince them to participate; I highly doubt anyone would beat them, they are very good with the sword." He shrugged. "And they won't be asking you for any kisses, don't worry."
"I'll keep you to your word, Saitou Hajime."
"As you should."
They walked in silence after that, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all. They both just walked in each other's company. Tokio was holding on to his arm gently, just like she'd been doing for the past few days; he was a tiny bit drunk and enjoyed the gesture as well as the night breeze, a little too much. So much, in fact, that he was reluctant to extricate himself from her, as he always did, when they neared the lights of the compound. Yes, it was dark; yes, only the lanterns' flames could be seen in the dark, and no other people than two guards. But guards could still talk. And they definitely would. One of the reasons he went to great lengths to appear proper around them, at all times, but tonight…tonight was different.
He felt like—could he say it? Should he even dare to think it? Well…he felt like this was an outing; with her; just for them. The other people barely registered in his mind; they were seldomly there, in his consciousness. It was only her.
So, he got carried away and didn't slither out of her grip, as and when he should, not to raise any eyebrows. He let her hold on to him, who, for some reason, also seemed unbothered by the quite interested furtive glances of the two men at the gate. The lord would hear about this a little too soon. As soon as their shift ended, in fact. Shit. He would have to think of a good reason for it, other than "I liked the attention" –he had the feeling the man would not appreciate him flirting with his adopted daughter.
And yet, the more he thought about it, the less it made sense to say or think anything other than the truth. He was enjoying it; he liked her arm snaked around his; he didn't want her to let go. And he didn't want to let go of her either. She was…careful with how she touched him, making sure to only grab where it was appropriate; but her hold was sure and steady. It didn't go up and down, sag or tighten. She held on tight and kept up with his pace, despite her being much shorter and in a kimono with its restrictive skirt. She still made the effort. And just maybe, he was walking slower than he usually would, because he didn't want the night to end.
Hiding his tumultuous thoughts, he gave a small nod to the guards to acknowledge them – only because she actually took the time to bow, to his annoyance – and kept walking quietly.
"Thank you for walking me to my room, Hajime."
She was the one to break the silence, which was fraught with tension and unspoken promises. Standing between their bedroom doors, they refused to look at one another, yet neither appeared willing to part with one the other, too.
After swallowing plenty of things he felt like saying, he simply bowed his head to her.
Then, a knowing smile tugged on her lips. "Thank you for offering your hand to keep me upright, too; I feel I had a little too much to drink." She chuckled at his obvious inquiring eyes. "I feel lightheaded."
Out of everything she said, only the last one rang true; he could tell by the pitch of her voice—deeper, less guarded or planned. But it appeared she read his mood again, or maybe shared the concern about the guards seeing them like that and offered up a very nice excuse for their forward display. Once again, she was offering a solution. And yet, despite all of that, he still felt selfish. He had to tease her, goad her, make her blush and stumble. And he knew just the right thing to say…! But should he say it, or would it be too forward?
The decision was made before he registered he reached it; leaning forward, close enough to whisper in her ear, his lips formed the words before he had the good sense to stop himself. "Alcohol isn't the only reason to feel lightheaded though, is it?"
Only then did he finally let go, putting her arm to her side carefully and resisted the urge to kiss her hand; he had tortured her enough for one night. "Goodnight your highness, lady of the house, adoptive daughter of the lord Kurasawa."
After those words, that felt like a promise and a challenge, she could only lamely string together a very sloppy "goodnight" in return.
A blushing mess. That's what she was and felt like; that's what opened her door and closed it: a blushing, messy mess.
A/N: Aaaaaaand scene! Will be finishing up this story in a couple of more chapters I think. It did drag but it had many, um, avenues to explore. hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it; see you on the next one!
