Hey ! I was reminded, with great tact, that a few of you are waiting for the next chapter. Here it is, reviewed and corrected.
Chapitre 1. GratitudeTo Anon: I do wonder if Frances would be qualified to attend birth for a woman. She has a few biology years under her belt, but the old miwdwives had plenty of experience. By the way, Francis is a male name in French, and Frances a female name of spanish origin. Italian equivalent would be Francesca, and French Françoise. I'm glad you enjoyed the downtime, I wanted a little insight into a traditional Japanese home.
The arrow penetrated the dummy in the chest with a satisfying crunch, and I lowered Tristan's bow. A little too much to the left. As I released my stance, relishing in the absence of strain in both my arms, the sound of Okita's cynical laugh echoed on the engawa. I squinted in the sunlight to peek at the pair of captains walking around the corner. The hanging roof hid their faces in the shadows, but I recognised easily Harada's gait and uniform beside Okita.
As he spotted me, the tenth captain waved at me.
"Salut Kitsu (Hi)! Masa sends her thanks. Ever since you punched that neighbour, there's a rumor about a Kitsune protecting my household."
"Chouette (Neat)", I responded, drawing the bow taut and releasing instinctively.
Mark. This shot was better than the last, even though I had barely aimed. Surprise ! I surmised the principles of Kyudō seemed to be working for me; the arrow went where it was supposed to when I found the right frame of mind. Okita's familiar drawl interrupted my musings.
"Neee, Harada-san. How did you survive a dinner with two women? What did they talk about? Men, combs, babies?"
Men… Hijikata ? Over my dead body.
Combs ? I had a hairbrush, did it count ?
Babies… ? Eeeew.
I shook my head as I approached, setting the wide Sarmatian bow upon the engawa. Okita looked better; no coughing, and no exercising. Good. For the moment, all went according to plan. As for Masa, well… I slighty reddened at the memory of her questions about fashion, and my total inability to answer them. I'd never been so thankful for the suggestion to have a drink than in this moment.
Harada actually laughed; he probably remembered my disgruntled face well enough.
"Imagine being questioned about make up, dresses, and designs, and hair arrangement. Kitsu's face was worth the world."
"Tch." The sound passed my lips as if I'd always been Japanese, and Okita only smirked. "What, Kitsu-san? Do you not dress like a woman sometimes?"
I rolled my eyes, finding that ignoring Okita's comments were a much more efficient way to deal with his antics than responding. I'd have to give the tip to Hijikata someday. Harada plopped down beside my bow, his finger trailing the polished wood.
"Well. I understand why you feel more at ease with men", he gently said.
"And there's the whole baby thing as well", Okita added as he crouched, a mischievious glint in his eyes.
Harada shuddered.
"Ouais (yeah)."
Poor guy; he truly had no clue what was going to happen to his sleep … his nights. His life. So I clasped my hand upon his shoulder and squeezed.
"I'll drink with you when the baby comes. Just let me pick the liquor."
"Deal", the captain sighed. He looked a little lost, but at the corner of his mouth, his lips had lifted in a gentle smile. Sweet Harada; he was about to be blown off by the arrival of his firstborn. Speaking of which, his earlier statement gave me an idea.
"Tu sais quoi (you know what?). Perhaps I should visit when your baby is born to extend my blessing. If it keeps the neighbours from badmouthing your family, it is worth a try."
Harada caught my gaze and nodded; the Kitsu scam worked pretty well with superstitious people.
"Perhaps you should second Masa during birth?", Okita suggested with a sadistic smirk.
"What?", I squeaked, blanching two notches. There was no freaking way I'd voluntarly walk into this situation … repairing stabs, all right. But witnessing this, and holding a new born were totally out of my range of expertise.
"Ca va (it's good), Harada remarked. "Masa's got friends."
I nearly dissolved in relief, but Sōji wasn't done teasing me. I kicked myself for not being able to hide my dislike for motherly things … and my discomfort with young children in general. The tall brat looked me dead in the eye.
"Nee, Kitsuneko, don't look so afraid. Are you not planning children, someday? You ought to know how it's done."
I shed my waraji to climb upon the engawa, forcing Okita to stand so that we faced each other. He was damn tall for such a young man.
"Planning is not the word, no", I deadpanned.
My retort puzzled the captain; births weren't quite controlled in this era. He probably wondered if I was even having sex.
"Well, perhaps you can take lessons from Masa-chan. You know, in case you have to pop one or two. You never know…"
I shook my head; of course, Okita was having a field day.
"Don't you have anything else to do that discuss my sex life?"
The young man gave me his trademark smirk, and I felt the engawa vibrate under my feet. Long strides, purposefully noisy; someone who wanted to be acknowledged.
"Nope, it's way too fun."
Okita was still smiling, his tall frame towering over me in hopes to disgruntle me. Little did he know that Legolas used to be over six feet tall, and that he, despite his five seven, was hardly the most intimidating man I'd ever met. Especially with his youth.
"Go and annoy someone else", I retorted.
Harada chortled while the young captain's eyes shifted over my shoulder, sparkling with glee.
"Actually, the perfect subject just showed up at your command."
I pivoted on my heels, finding Hijikata with his eternal frown glaring daggers at Okita.
"For the love of god, Sōji", I sighed.
Given the strange truce I seemed to have with Fukuchō, I certainly didn't want to aggravate him more than necessary. So I nailed Okita with the only thing that he truly feared: "I'm sure Sanan-san would be pleased with your company. He's got some furies to feed."
Okita swallowed thickly, and I hid my smile behind my hand. Before the brat could add anything else, Hijikata's gaze turned to me, unreadable.
"Kondō-san requests your presence."
The neutrality of his expression sent alarm bells in my mind. Rather than question him, I just nodded, and picked my bow.
"See ya, Kitsu", Harada told me.
The tenth captain didn't weem worried. Good. Because I was. Why would Kondō send Hijikata to fetch me when anyone could do the deed? And why was Fukuchō leading me to his own office?
"If you're still alive", Okita sing songed from behind me.
Hijikata bellowed his standard "Urusei" that I assorted with a raised finger. How was it that Okita could get on my nerves so easily? I followed the Vice Commander's strides, my heart racing as much as my mind. Had I done something wrong? Were they going to kick me out? Was it really the same man who'd kissed me barely a month ago?
Hijikata slid the sōji open and stood aside. A strange move, for he usually strode inside like a conqueror. I swallowed and penetrated in the room, my eyes adjusting to the dimming of the light just in time to see the familiar glint of Sanan's spectacles. Then Kondō literally swooped down upon me. I started when the man grabbed both of my hands, and rested his forehead over them.
"Domo arigatō gozamashita", he whispered over my fingers.
Thank you for what you've done.
I gaped, finding Sanan's serene gaze right behind him. The sliding door closed behind us, and I spotted the form of Vice Commander's slither aside.
Kondō eventually straightened; his eyes were misty, so raw that my heart metled; I almost embraced him then. The Captain seemed to have trouble finding words, but his smile didn't waver. He looked at me as if I was a miracle walking. Strange. I took a peek at Hijikata who towered by our side, finding him almost stunned.
What was going on? My heart rate picked up. Eventually, Sanan spoke, his silky voice putting my fears to rest.
"I had to inform Kondō-san and Hijikata-kun of Okita-kun's condition. I didn't want him to resume patrols too early, even though he seemed better."
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. So they knew about tuberculosis. Kondō-san bowed again, squeezing my hands tight. I stopped him with a plea.
"Please Kondō-san, don't bow to me. It is getting embarrassing."
"But you deserve it. Your generosity…"
His eyes shone with such emotion that I feared for his heart. What if the treatment wasn't successful? What if Sōji's immune system didn't strengthen enough? I squeezed Kondō's hand one more time before I retrieved my appendages.
"Okita-kun is not out of the woods yet. It will be some time before we are sure he is cured."
The Shinsengumi's captain pursed his lips, but the joy in his eyes just refused to dim. Ever the optimist.
"I have been informed, yes. But we cannot overlook the fact that you gave him the opportunity. I tremble to imagine what would have happened if not for your treatment…"
I bowed to the Shinsengumi Captain; I wasn't about to deny that giving Okita a full month of antibiotics wasn't a sacrifice. Those pills had saved my life in middle earth. I might have condemned myself to death if I got badly hurt; staving infection would be impossible.
"I understand what you mean", I told him. "I am not a doctor, but I always carry this little stack of medicine in case of emergency. In my time, tuberculosis can be vanquished if taken early."
And if there wasn't any resistance to antibiotics.
"Hai", Kondō sighed. "Both Okita's parents succumbed to it. As did Toshi's parents."
I slid a glance at the commander by my side; his features gave nothing away and I frowned.
"I ignored it was so wide spread."
"Your medicine must truly be miraculous if you can overcome such a disease."
Right, and wrong at the same time. I'd learnt from Norwegian people what holistic medicine meant, and hearing Chizuru talk about the Chinese care of patient had shown me a very different approach. Nothing replaced antibiotics, but if you didn't care care of the patient's overall health, it was just bound to fail.
"Well … we've got tools that you don't. And yet, I find that you practise medicine with more wisdom than we do." Kondō's face softened at the praise, and I added as an afterthought. "But come, that's a full-blown debate, I don't want to bore you with it."
"I'll be glad to be bored on the subject, as always", Sanan quipped with a tiny curl of his lips.
I sent him a grateful smile; without his knowledge, I doubted Okita would be on the path to remission. Kondō-san, though, wasn't done as he called for my attention again.
"You have illustrated Chi and Ju with your willingness to help Sōji even though he has not always been courteous to you."
I smirked, Sanan had given me the perfect weapon to retaliate. "We have our moments."
"As a token of our gratitude, we would like to organise a formal dinner."
My eyebrows rose up; we had dinner every night together. What did he have in mind?
"Toshi and I shall take you to an ochya in Kyōto."
Wow ! Out of the compound? I couldn't keep my face straight, pure delight flooding me at the idea to, at last, be able to wander the streets like a guest.
"Oh, that would be great! But how do you plan on doing that? I still have no papers, and people will recognise a gaijin."
"There are ways for ladies to travel incognito", Hijikata interjected. "We will use an uchikatsugi."
My wide eyes caused him to chuckle. "A veiled hat under which noble women hide. You'll have to leave your sword behind, Kitsu."
I felt my spine stiffen at the thought. I swallowed, unable to form coherent words; if Saitō had been there, I would have left the weapon in his custody. But he wasn't.
"I can take it", Hijikata offered. "I'll leave Horikawa Kunihiro here, and add yours to my belt so you can use it should the need arise."
My breath shortened when his eyes caught mine. Leaving his own wakisahi behind? What an olive branch! Would I be able to take it? Trust was so difficult, to me. Anything could go wrong, what if we were attacked? Hijikata's dark eyes were boring holes into me, and I exhaled. The man was a warrior; he knew where my thoughts wandered. So he just waited for me to take a decision. Eventually, I bowed, face pale.
"Arigatō gozaimasu. It has been safe with you in the past, and I trust you to care for it."
My words caused his cheeks to redden slightly – how cute! – and I struggled not to gape. The demon Vice Commander was made of flesh, after all.
And his lips… very fleshy too.
The weight that had settled upon my chest faded to unravel the joy of this event to come. Giddy, I turned to Sanan.
"I can't wait. This was a hard piece of research, and will be worth a few drinks."
The man's features didn't change, but the glint of his eyes dulled before he averted his gaze altogether.
"Unfortunately, I cannot leave the compound. People might not take well to a dead man walking the streets in plain light."
My heart plummeted. What? How could we celebrate a victory, if the main victor wasn't here? I sent a pleading look to Kondō who gave me a resigned smile. My fists clenched. No, this was unacceptable.
"But half the credit goes to you for helping me figure out the posology. And the additional reinforcement of his immune system…"
"This is unfortunate", Hijikata interjected, his voice less stern than usual. "But there's nothing to be done about it."
I was none too happy about his lecturing tone, but his face told a thousand other things. Neither he nor Kondō were untouched by the dilemma; they cared for their friend. I roamed my skull, attempting to find a solution. If they had a way to hide me, why not use the same trick on the scientist? I absolutely refused to go and celebrate without him.
I suddenly turned to Sanan again, catching him off guard with my newfound energy. Grey eyes glinted behind his spectacles, and I smirked deviously.
"I may have an idea…"
Two days later, Chizuru gently summoned me to my room. Her mouth was set in a determined line, as if she had been given the most important of missions. I'd just been training; my skin was gross and sweaty. The little lady sent me to the bath house with urgency, shaking her head with a sigh.
"Your hair shall never be dry enough. How will I be able to style it in an updo?"
I laid a hand over her pink kimono.
"Don't worry. It's easier to work with when it's wet."
"No, no. It cannot be done that way."
Daggers shot out of her eyes, at once replaced by a sheepish expression. I kept my laughter internal and silenced the fact that I doubted she'd be able to perform a traditional hairstyle with my less than obedient waves. The simple fact that it tended to curl in the first place wasn't going to help us. The little lady shooed me away with such authority that I obeyed.
A good soaking, with this moist heat, wasn't superfluous. I sneaked into the captain's bathroom with pleasure, but didn't linger. Chizuru was scary when on a mission; I wondered if she realised she could lead all those men with just a flick of her hand.
As I returned to my room, the Oni lady was nowhere to be found. My eyes were immediately caught by a kimono laid out upon the futon. I gaped. Dark blue cloth, like the deepest of oceans, contrasted with gold and silver thread. It was somptuous, with embroideries of cranes and water.
When I gathered the courage to touch it, I found the cloth cool and smooth at the same time. Silk caused it to shine, mixed with a coarser fabric that might have been linen or hemp. The perfect combination for summer.
The door slid open once more and I tore my eyes away from the kimono to find Chizuru smiling down upon me.
"Do you like it?"
"Hai. The colour is so beautiful. It reminds me of the ocean."
Blue was my favourite colour, by far.
"I found it a little dark, but it's right in between a man's colour and a woman. I guess it suits you."
I just nodded, my eyes returning to the beautiful embroideries. As for oscillating between genders… I guess it referred to Harada's tendency to treat me like 'one of the guys', even though I was being feminine. I hoped I wouldn't damage it this time.
"Who's kimono is it?", I asked, wondering where Kondō-san had fished such a beauty.
Her chocolate eyes widened. "He didn't tell you?"
I shook my head. Who didn't tell me what?
"Kondō-san bought it for you."
I gasped, totally floored by a revelation that nearly reduced me to tears. I couldn't even fathom the price of such an item, and he'd gifted it to me.
"But…", I whispered, my hand running alongside the patterns of golden threat. Why was the first question that came to mind, but I perfectly knew the extend of Kondō's gratitude. He really treated me like a daughter … was he missing his?
"Is there anything wrong with the Furisode, Kitsu-san?"
I frowned.
"What's a Furisode?"
Chizuru watched me as if I had grown two heads. Her cheeks blushed when realisation hit her; given my origins, I wasn't privy to the specifics of kimonos. Especially since I wore occidental's garbs most of the time.
"Ah. It's the kimono with slong sleeves. The one unmarried women are supposed to wear."
Unmarried. Oops. I might have forgotten to mention I was officially a widower.
I covered my squeak with a cough, and thanked the Valar for Chizuru's restraint as she allowed my amusement to pass unnoticed. Stephen has probably been dead for twenty years. I did the math in my head. From 1772 to here … nearly a century. Yep. Definitely gone. Very dead. Pushing the sweet fondess away, I squared my shoulders.
"I'll do your hair first. Then I can help you with the Furisode."
I nodded obediently, and allowed Chizuru to struggle with my strands. The loose ringlets adamantly refused to be styled the Japanese way, leaving my lovely assistant nibbling upon her lower lip. Given how supple it was, the non compliance wasn't surprising. After trying to pin it, and yanking at my scalp for the thousandth time, I called it quits.
"Gomen, Kitsu-san", Chizuru sighed.
"Don't worry. I'm sure you can pull it off, but I bet the nohongami isn't for me. Let me try something else instead."
I parted my hair sideways, and started a waterfall braid at the side. Then, I pulled two strands on the other side and twisted them, fastening all of them with pins. Chizuru watched, fascinated with those ringlets that twisted on their own and didn't glide down like hers would have.
"Kitsu-san, you need to uncover your nape", she warned, reddening slightly.
"Uh?"
"The kimono allows the space of a fist at the nape. Your hair must be out of the way to expose it."
I blinked, then nodded, wondering why her cheeks were turning redder by the minute. I mused before the mirror for a moment, then decided for something simple. I just braided the whole bunch together and rolled it around my head. There, my nape was exposed prettily, just like she had instructed.
Chiruzu eventually placed a comb, securing the style with a satisfied hum.
"Well, this is different. But it works."
Sparkles danced in her eyes and I wondered what she was thinking about when she asked me to twirl around. Her shyness was endearing; I so longed to know what went on in her head. When she presented me with a sarashi to bind my breast, though, I starchly refused.
"But… Kitsu-san. You need it to keep the tube shape, else…"
Else my breasts were going to be obvious over the Obi. Granted, it would break the lovely line of a kimono, but I'd be damned if I constricted my chest again.
"Come on, little lady, they're not that big. A C cup, at the worst."
I'd already lost a little weight after all with all this running around – definitely only a C left. Chizuru squeaked, frozen in place. Was it the appellation, or the casual mention of my chest size? I'd heard, from the guys, that a woman with bigger assets was considered a bad mother; their sexuality wasn't too based on breast. Officially … but Shinpachi seemed to appreciate them just right. I just hoped some guys would be able to accept my silhouette, even if it didn't fit the standard.
Would they shun Marylin Monroe of rever her ?
I shrugged; standards never fitted me, no matter where I went. My hair was too medieval for modern times. Too wavy for the Japanese. Too red for medieval guys. My skin too pale to the romans. My eyes too dull to Nordic people. My behaviour too rowdy to men of the past, and too reserved for my classmates.
"Naninani", I snorted, happy to know the Japanese equivalent of 'whatever'. "No breast binding. I'll keep my sports bra, thank you very much."
Chizuru blinked, wondering what that contraption was like when I dropped my clothes and showed her. A loud 'eep' greeted my brashness before she turned around.
Ah, too forward. Strange, I thought Japanese women bathed together.
I shrugged, and passed on the juban before calling to her.
"I'm decent."
Chizuru sighed, then we started the whole process of tying up the different waist ribbons. I marvelled at the kimono the whole time; I felt like a princess, dressed in silks. Surely I was dreaming, right? I didn't even wear such finery at King Arthur's wedding. Granted; silk was not even an item back then in Britain.
The absence of breast binding caused the kimono to cross slightly lower than usual, giving my skin an inch more freedom at the neckline. Good, I hated feeling constricted. Claustrophobia and all.
Chizuru helped me measure the slight dip at the nape, then started tying up the obi. Made of cream silk, it was so embroidered that I felt like I could stare all day, and still miss some details. The colours were so bright! Probably silk thread as well … this sash alone was a beauty. Chizuru asked for my help, throwing the piece of fabric over my shoulder as she wrapped it twice. The tightening got us to giggle as she pulled with all her might.
Then, I heard her fumble in my back, creating a Tateya Musubi fitting for a formal evening. I felt so trapped with all those layers; this garment was a golden cage. Did it beat corsets? I doubted it. Breathing was all right, but just barely. Hopefully, we wouldn't have to draw sword. How did the commanders fight in winter, with their layers and the haori on top of it? Well, their obi fastened at the hip, so they probably felt less constricted.
And damn, I was burning. Fortunately, early autmun rains had taken the temperature down a notch. I'm pretty sure I would have combusted else.
There were a few curses released, but Chizuru eventually finished the harrowing task of tying up the three-meter belt. Given I was occidental – and my back naturally arched – the dip of my hips caused us to tie the obi a little lower than usual to keep it in place to rest upon the natural waist. One last silver cord, called Obi Jime, was added for good measure and I found myself … ready.
My breath caught when I spotted my reflexion in the small polished mirror. I'd never seen such a beautiful garment, so vibrant that it almost seemed alive. Colours complimented each other, the light of the obi, the deep blue of the silk and the blood red of my hair. But with my hourglass figure, the kimono still looked different on me. Overall, I remained a gaijin. It suited me well enough; whether it would satisfy the Shinsengumi commanders remained to be seen.
Too bad I had to hide under a veiled hat. Chizuru handed me the uchikatsugi, and fixed the rope around my chin. It felt even more uncomfortable than those thousand layers, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
And so, properly attired and coiffed, I joined my escorts for the evening.
So, are you ready for a little cultural sortie ? I had so much fun writing those, but it took me an age in research.