The teahouse was located
within a thick inner garden in a corner of the mansion that was usually
deserted. Tonight, however, dim candle
light shone from within the closed partitions. A few guards knelt in watchful
vigil, well outside the range of hearing. Only the three occupants in the room
would know the content of the conversation this late night.
The room the men were
seated in was simple to the point of austere, but what few decorations and
implements were there were of excellent quality. The fragrance of sake wafted
in the room as Katsura poured into three delicate white porcelain cups in front
of him. Sakamoto Ryoma lifted two of the cups and offered one to the person
sitting beside him. “Here you go, Okubo-san. Did you have a good journey here?
Kyoto is a long way from Kagoshima.”
The other man, in his
late thirties with a narrow face and a neat mustache bowed his head and
accepted the cup. “Thank you,” he murmured. “It was quite uneventful,
thankfully. Unlike yours, Sakamoto-san. I am glad I do not have to be the
bearer of bad news to Saigo-san.”
Sakamoto gave a lop-sided
grin. “Thanks to Katsura here and his fine group of men.”
“I see.”
Katsura demurred, a round
of drink was consumed and re-poured before he turned to their visitor. “I thank
you for agreeing to meet with me at such a late time, Okubo-san. But I thought
it may help us to have a private discussion.” Unspoken was the understanding – away
from prying eyes.
“It is of no problem. However, first, let me apologize on behalf of my colleague. It was truly unfortunate that Saigo-san was unable to meet with you last July. He was delayed by government official business, and was unable to make it to Shimonoseki on time. It is not our intention to insult you by our tardiness.”
Katsura nodded, somewhat
cool. “Apology accepted.”
“Sakamoto-san,” Okubo
nodded to Sakamoto Ryoma, “has forwarded us your letter. We, that is, Saigo-san
and myself, found ourselves in agreement with your points.”
“I also bring good news.
Just before I left, your colleague, Ito-san and Inoue-san had sent a letter to
me saying that they have managed to secure seven thousand rifles from Nagasaki,
through the offices of our Kaientai trading company.”
Katsura could not help a
genuine smile at that. “Ah, that is excellent news. We have been trying to
bypass the Bakufu blockade on foreign weapons for a long time. But as you know,
ever since Shimonoseki, Bakufu has been watching us so closely that it is close
to impossible to do some things. We have sent men to Nagasaki before, to see if
they could contact foreign merchants willing to sell weapons, but it has come
to no avail.”
“We are happy to be of
assistance. Our han has long prepare ourselves and we are in the process
of building naval yards for our new modern navy. I’m sure Sakamoto-san has
already told you, we have been using the Kaientai to supply us with artillery
and ships. I believe we can continue to help you obtain more advanced weapons
through our Kaientai offices in Nagasaki. As for your request for a ship, it
may stretch some of our resources…”
“But?”
“As you know, we are
currently building an army. We have the man-power, but Satsuma land is not the
most fertile ground, while Choshu has long been known for the richness of her
granary.”
“Ah… yes. I do believe we
have a little surplus this year.”
“Perhaps more than a
little?”
Katsura smiled but did
not elaborate. Just like Satsuma, Choshu had been preparing itself. There was
surplus in the granaries for more than two years, but there was no need to
reveal the card to Satsuma at this point.
“I will find a way to
route some… excess… to the appropriate merchant channels.”
Okubo nodded, but his
face remained neutral. Too much so. “Katsura-san… the last time we
corresponded, quite a few of your people were still opposed to our alliance.
They also derided our dealings with our foreign friends. Tell me, how is the
situation now? I must admit, my people have started asking questions on when we
formalise our alliance in the open.”
Here it comes. Katsura
affected nonchalance as he responded with a confidence that he did not feel.
“There will always be a few stubborn people who cannot see beyond old grudges.
However, their numbers are diminishing rapidly and so are their influence.”
“I see.” Okubo’s face
revealed nothing except a mild thoughtfulness. “We have a few back at home too,
but Saigo-san is even now hard at work in Kagoshima convincing the rest of the
nobles to support us. We understand that there is little to be gained by
further negotiation with Bakufu. Considering how much armed dealings we had
made, on our behalf as well as yours…” A flicker of steel under half-lidded
eyes. “We would like some assurance that Choshu is as committed to this
alliance as we are.”
Katsura saw Sakamoto’s
eyes flickered towards him, gauging his response. He had schooled himself from
tensing in indignation, but it was hard. Fortunately, he was aware of this and
had think of a partial solution.
“Tell me, Okubo-san. Ever
since the trading between our two han stopped, our people has been
bemoaning the loss of a good trading partner. I wonder if it is the same case
with yours?”
If Okubo was thrown by
the apparent non-sequitur, he did not show it. “Yes, there have been quite a
few complaints.” The profitable grain trading had vastly diminished, most of it
gone underground, ever since the formal trading lines had been cut following
the old hostilities between the two provinces.
“Do you think your people would be amenable
to re-opening the old grain trade lines between us?”
There was finally a
reaction from Okubo. A raised an eyebrow and a stroke of a lean chin. “Economic
alliance…ka?” Katsura waited patiently as Okubo pondered his own
positions, judging which of his supporters would benefit from the re-opened
trading lines, how that would juggle the power balance, and came to the same
conclusion Katsura had when he had considered this solution.
“How soon?”
Katsura stopped himself from
sighing in relief. Okubo had taken the bait. “If we finalise the agreement
before this month ends, the grain can starts moving before this year’s winter
comes around.”
Okubo grunted softly.
“And the rates?”
“Considering our current
trading relationship with Satsuma, perhaps preferred partner rates can be
arranged.”
“If you could let me have
a look at a draft of the agreements…?”
“I will have it delivered
to you by tomorrow, and we can have another discussion after you have a chance
to look through it.”
Okubo finally smiled a
thin-lipped smile. “That is acceptable. I do believe that this shall come as a
pleasant surprise to quite a few of my people.”
Katsura allowed himself a
smile for the first time in this meeting, Sakamoto beaming at the two of them
from the side. “That is our sincerest hope. Shall we drink to it, then?”
~*~*~*~
For Kenshin, the journey
back to the mansion passed in a blur. He hid himself when voices or footsteps
warned of approaching men, though they were thankfully far and between in the
late hours. But otherwise, his mind stayed in a clouded haze. His thoughts were
unfocused, but perhaps it was better that way.
He passed the guard that
opened the back door for him, ignoring the way the man stumbled back from him
with wide-eyed shock. He did not go straight to his quarter, instead taking a
sharp left to where the servants’ well was located. Dawn was still several
hours away and the courtyard was as deserted as the rest.
Kenshin would not have
cared if the courtyard was packed with people. Right now, he only wanted one
thing, for the water in the well to wash the stink of death and madness away
from him. He wanted it with an intense desperation that bordered on
irrationality.
He brought the first
bucket up with jerky pulls and upended it over his head. The cool water hit his
over-heated body with a shock, but it was not enough. He could still taste,
smell, feel it. It was in his hair, his skin, his lungs, his mouth.
It was driving him mad.
He drew another bucket
with hands that were shaking. It splashed half its load as his haste made him
clumsy. He scrubbed his palms and fingernails over every patch of visible skin,
trying to remove all trace of blood that was on him, hating the sticky
heaviness of the drenched fabric, sickened by the cloying sweet smell that
paradoxically became stronger as the water soaked him to the skin. His stomach
roiled and he fought against reflexive heaving.
Not the first time he had
to kill a large group of men all at once. But it was the first time it took
place in such a narrow and enclosed area. So narrow there was no place to evade
the falling blood. So much concentrated in so little space that it was
practically raining all over him, drenching him. Until droplets of it was
inhaled into his nostrils.
He gulped a mouthful of
water and spat it without swallowing. He realized not just his hands, his whole
body was trembling. But not from shock. Not even from fear.
Anger.
He was angry. Furious.
Guilty too – but most of all… angry.
Angry at the Imawarigumi
for being tardy and late, causing the clear road to become a death trap. Angry
at them for not turning away and running when they knew the only choice he had
was to go through them.
And lastly, angry at
himself for butchering them so cursed easily.
He was breathing hard
now, body shaking.
That was ridiculous. One
should not feel guilty over one’s kill, not when the result could have been the
other way round.
But he did.
A sound emerged from his
lips, and distantly he thought he was laughing. But he did not recognize that
sound, surely that mad sound was not his, was it? And a part of him woke up and
recoiled at what he had just thought.
Stupid, stupid fool. You
are angry because they had not gone along with your clever little scheme of
escaping with no deaths involved. Because they had dared to go and messed up
your clean, pretty little plan.
Arrogant, presumptious
fool! What do you think this is, a game? String along the stupid pawns, lead
them on a few merry chases, come back with none the wiser. Who do you think you
are?!
Murderer!
He flinched as the memory
of accusing scream struck him like a whip-lash. The woman had called him that, aptly.
Everything that he touched turned to death. When would he learn his lesson? It
did not matter what his intentions were. Death followed him like an extension
of his shadow. Laughable that he thought he could turn from killer to
protector. Killing came so instinctively to him, alternatives did not even
occur to him until it was too late. Certainly too late to do that last trooper
any good.
At that moment, with the
miasma of blood so thickly surrounding him still, a life-time of killing seemed
to stretch before him - an endless road of madness. And he could not breathe
for the crushing weight of it.
Maybe this is what my
fate is. Maybe this is what I deserve.
“Kenshin?”
He whirled around with a
snarl on his lips, whole body taut with barely contained tension. The owner of
the voice stared at him with widening eyes, but not backing away. That was
important, somehow. It brought him back, a little, enough to recognize the one
standing in front of him. Kyosuke. Kyosuke with his gentle brown eyes, who somehow
managed to kept the kindness in his soul despite the killings he had done.
Kyosuke who had stayed by his side even when everyone else barely tolerated him
and watched him as warily as if watching a barely-tamed wild animal.
Kenshin turned back to the
well, shame adding to the welter of emotions inside him. He grabbed his katana,
suddenly wanting nothing more than to disappear, away from all eyes. Even
Kyosuke’s. Maybe especially Kyosuke’s.
But the other man was not
so easily deterred. He stepped in front of Kenshin when he would have moved
away from the well.
“What happened… to you?”
“Nothing,” Kenshin
grated, skirting Kyosuke.
“But… are you injured?
There’s so much blood…”
“Don’t touch me!” The
shout seemed to come out of nowhere. “Stay away from me!”
Hand half-outstretched
towards him, where Kyosuke was about to touch his shoulder. Hurt now evident in
his eyes, along with confusion.
“…Himura?” Another voice,
vaguely familiar.
He wanted to shout at the
new voice to leave him alone, for all of them to leave him alone. He felt like
a rice paper stretched too thin, like the faintest touch would tear him apart.
But the angry words caught in his throat when he saw Sakamoto Ryoma and Katsura
Kogoro standing by the entrance to the inner hallway. It had been Sakamoto who
had called him, but there was a small group of strangers standing behind him.
Men who bore arms and whose hands had dropped to their katana hilts with tensed
bodies. The narrow-faced man in the middle stared at him with widened eyes.
Katsura took one step
forward and to the left, placing himself in his direct line of sight and not so
coincidentally in front of the clump of strangers. His handsome face was as
tense as he had ever seen it.
“Himura, report.”
He started, realized that
his right fingers had tightly wrapped themselves around the hilt of his katana,
completely without his conscious thought.
He had to take several
deep breaths, focusing on that familiar word to force his thoughts into some
coherent form. There is no threat here, Katsura was telling him. Prying
his fingers away from the hilt felt almost like physical pain. “It was… nothing… important, Katsura-sama.” Nothing.
He wanted to laugh at that. Not important to the big picture, just enough to
tip him halfway to hell. “I was… careless. I thought…” He bit down on the rest.
No. No excuses. “Iya. I was careless. There was a patrol of Imawarigumi.
I had to… go through them.” Go through. What a nice, clean word. Nothing
implied of the carnage that had ensued. But the evidence of it could clearly be
seen on his body, in the puddle of water beneath him that reeked of copper. “My
sincere apologies. This may make the patrols more aggressive.”
“I see.” Katsura regarded
him for several seconds before quietly speaking, “What’s done is done, you do
what you have to. But I’m sure you are tired. We will discuss this later, after
you had some rest.”
Kenshin bowed to him,
relieved to be released, ashamed at his loss of control in front of strangers.
When he turned away, he knew Katsura had allowed him to flee for a while, had
given him some time to gather the pieces of his armor back together before he
would need to confront it again during the inevitable questioning to follow.
He was grateful, but he
was not sure if his armor could ever fit together again.
~*~*~*~
Ryoma threw Katsura a
troubled look as they watched Himura moved beyond the doorway, the big shishi
he did not recognize following suit after a slight hesitation. However, before
he could say anything, Okubo asked quietly from behind. “Who is he?”
Ryoma looked at Okubo in
surprise. Why would Okubo wanted to know? His bodyguards were still looking a
little twitchy, barely relaxing as Himura moved out of sight. Ryoma did not
blame them. The unexpectedly vicious
aura that Himura had given off had even him twitching for the sword he left in
his room, and he had known the kid for years.
Katsura glanced back,
then deliberately resumed their interrupted walk. And to think that they had
deliberately chosen the back gate to prevent Okubo from encountering any
uncomfortable confrontations.
“He is one of my trusted
men.” Katsura replied quietly. “I trust him with my life. He will not talk. I
will make sure the other one won’t either.”
Okubo’s voice was
subdued. “For a moment, I thought a shura had stepped out of hell
itself.”
“He is not a berserker,”
Katsura said in a sharper tone than normal.
Ryoma was not so sure of
that, but he did not want to voice that out loud where Okubo could hear it. There
was something thoughtful in the man’s eyes that made him uncomfortable.
Once they had escorted
Okubo and his entourage out, Ryoma turned to Katsura and spoke without
preamble.
“He’s breaking apart.”
Katsura took a deep
breath, turning to walk back to their lodgings. “I know.”
“I’m not squeamish,
but even so that’s a lot of
blood. How many do you think?”
“More than half, probably
all of them. He was trained to kill, Ryoma, not fight honourable duels in dojos
where matches stop at the first blood.”
By tacit agreement, their
path took them back to the now deserted teahouse. They left the lanterns unlit,
choosing to leave the wall partition open for moonlight to filter in. Ryoma
seated himself and watched Katsura filled both their sake cups to the brim.
“You told me once that he’s not suited to be a killer.”
“Yes.” Katsura took a
small sip, then sighed. “But he is too strong, too valuable, to risk being used
by any other parties. Shinsuke once described the sword of Hiiten Mitsurugi
Ryuu akin to a force of nature. If I let him go, do you think one of the others
would not have approached him?”
“And I honestly don’t
think he could have stayed out in any case. He’s young, idealistic.” Katsura’s
soft smile was self-mocking. “He reminds me of Shinsuke and myself when we were
both young. And it’s not as if there are that many people I can trust my back
to these days.”
“I don’t want to see him
ruined.”
Katsura’s reply was
harsh. “You think I want to?”
Sakamoto took his time
answering. “No. But I know if you think it’s worth it, you’ll sacrifice him.”
Katsura flinched
minutely and was silent. Sakamoto took a gulp of the sake that did not taste as
good as before. “Damn, it’s gone cold.” He waited for the other man to collect
himself.
When
Katsura spoke, his voice was soft with bone-deep anguish. “I watched more
friends die the last two years than I did my whole life, Ryoma. I watched more
good men hunted to death like animals, stripped of their honour and executed
like low criminals. And some of those men, I sent to their deaths.”
Katsura
downed the content of his cup in one gulp and slammed it down on the mat.
“When I started
down this road, I know there will be sacrifices, innocents or not. I know I’ll
be walking on a road paved by the fallen dead, both my enemies and my friends.
Whether or not it is right, what is done cannot be changed. But it is my
responsibility to see it to the end, to finish this the way it should be. No
matter how hard... I have to do my best to see it through. To do any less would
demean the worth of all the people who had died.”
“So
you’re right. If I think the price is worth it, I will use up and sacrifice the
lives of young men like Himura. And if fates are kind, all of it may actually
mean something in the end.”
There was a long
silence, then Sakamoto said, not looking at Katsura, “Bakufu is not going to
let this slide.” A tacit apology, letting the matter slide to less personal
matters.
“I’ll instruct our people
to lie low.” Katsura wiped his palm over his face, betraying his weariness. “I
wish this hadn’t happen at this time. We can’t afford close government
attention right now. And something else is happening, my sources have been
telling me there are a lot of underground activities. It could just be some criminal
gang actions, or it could be something else. I wish I know more.” Katsura gave
a gusty sigh. “But let’s talk of something else. You haven’t told me how your
meeting went tonight.”
It was Ryoma’s turn to
sigh. He sipped the hot sake, grateful for the warmth it gave him. “The contact
said the shipment was gone in a raid, and they didn’t know who did it. We know we
didn’t do it. So either he’s lying or…”
“…or there’s a third
party interfering.” Katsura frowned down at his cup of sake. “To tell you the
truth, I don’t know which of the possibilities worries me more.”
Ryoma sucked down more
sake. “Well, if he’s lying, the Brits have betrayed us and we are completely
out of luck. If he isn’t, then we just acquired ourselves another enemy.” He
leant back against the railing of the pavilion to stare thoughtfully at the
half-full moon. “Personally, I don’t think he’s lying. On the other hand,
without insider information and help, I really don’t think it’s possible to get
away with that kind of weapons raid on heavily guarded warehouse.”
Katsura grimaced. “You
just pointed out the third possibility. That someone from the embassy leaked
out information to aid in the raid. With or without the Ambassador’s
knowledge.”
“That too.”
“Which puts us back to
square one. We don’t know either way.” Katsura leaned forward. His face looked
haggard under the moonlight.
“We need this alliance
Sakamoto. The second punitive force, led by Shogun Iemochi himself, will arrive
in Choshu sometime late this year. Shinsaku is even now rallying and training
our people for war. We don’t know what the outcome of this will be, we don’t
know how long it will take, but we do know that there will be more battles
after this.”
“What we do know for sure
is that we are going to war with Tokugawa. And for that, we have to prepare for
the worst.”
Sakamoto grimaced. “Yes,
I know. Look, they promised a replacement shipment coming in next Friday. The contact
was also willing to arrange a meeting with the new ambassador. I told him we’ll
meet this guy when they can show us the shipment, so we’ll arrange a meeting
sometime end of next week. We’ll see then if they are really sincere with this,
hmm? If not, well, it’s better to know sooner than later.”
“How far can we trust
them?”
“Heh, always hope for the
best and prepare for the worst. That’s how we’ve lived so far, isn’t it? And
let’s just pray there won’t be any idiot hot-heads stirring up troubles in the
meantime.”
Katsura gave Sakamoto a
tired smile. “I don’t think both of us combined have enough good karma for
that.”
“Damn, you’re right. Oh
well, here’s to hope anyway.” The sound of ceramic cups clicking was soft in
the dead of night.
~*~*~*~
Hours later as false dawn
swept the sky, one man sat alone in his room with a cooling jar of untouched
sake, while another lay beside a slumbering woman and listened to the
whispering of the wind. Elsewhere, a simple fisherman turned soldier carefully
refold a yellowing letter spotted with dark-brown patches, the thin rice paper
creased from many refolding, and in a neighbouring room, a boy turned killer
tossed and dreamed of carnelian rain.
~*~*~*~
NOTES:
Writer’s rambling:
OMG, I can’t believe I actually
started writing this again, and actually finishing a chapter!! I deeply and
abjectly apologize to all of you who had read DSBL and were left hanging for so
long. I stopped writing this for a long time because it’s by far the most
labour-intensive fic I have, and I can’t handle the pressure of full-time work
(horrible, horrible underpaid-overworked job), family stress, and fic writing
at the same time. I did finish a few shorter fics and started a few others on a
whim, but DSBL is more than a whim to me and I have this horrible need to give
this ficcie the best I can. Which translates to almost no writing for years,
bleh! >_<;;.
As for why I started
writing again – this is solely due to all of you wonderful, wonderful people
who wrote in and ask for continuations, and some who even spent time and effort
(both of which I know are in such short supplies) to help me preview some
sections. Lisa, this chapter is so definitely dedicated to you! (forgive me for
going quiet and dead again after the last email, no excuse, just my deepest
apologies)
I still have a horrible
feeling that I’m tangling my plotlines all over the place, and that I may be
forced to re-write certain sections once I’ve progressed far enough. But as
long as I know that people are still reading this after all this time, I will
try to keep on writing (ok, I think you may need to prod me now and then ^^;;).
Feel free to scream at me to get off my butt and go on writing. And as always,
suggestions, recommendations, errors pointing are all gratefully welcomed.
And gods, I’ve forgotten
what it was like being gripped by the muse @_@. I’ve been locked here in front
of the screen for almost 8 hours non-stop, and I got work tomorrow, uwaaa…
Historical notes:
The meeting described here,
did not actually exist in history (not in recorded history in any case :). But
the Choshu and Satsuma leaders were in contact during this time, which lead to
the resumption of trade between Choshu and Satsuma han, Choshu supplying grain
to Satsuma army, and Kaientai helping Choshu in obtaining foreign weapons. For
the history buff, there was an attempted meeting between Katsura Kogoro and
Saigo Takamori on July in Shimonoseki, but Saigo cancelled at the last moment.
Katsura was already there, and was pretty pissed that Saigo decided not to come
just like that. From many accounts, even though Katsura and Saigo were pretty
much the spear-heads in their respective han for Sat-Cho alliance, they were
still at logger-heads with each other. Okubo Toshimitchi supported the
alliance, but was not as strongly involved in its creation. Takasugi Shinsaku
himself was strongly against Satsuma. Sakamoto Ryoma really had had his work
cut out for him, trying to bring these two together ^_^;.