White Butterfly : Chapter 10
Crawford opened the screens that separated his room from the veranda and looked out across at the Moon Shrine where they were keeping Aya. It had been three days since his return to the house and in that time Hikarin had availed herself of the hospitality of the Takatori. Crawford suspected that she knew exactly what he’d do to her if he caught her.
They had been explicit about Aya’s condition, “he needed stitches, Crawford,” he had said with his eyes open to the truth, he normally kept them closed, “but,” there had been a deep breath and the kindly smile fell from his mouth, “it was poison. At first we thought he had had too much sake and then the trauma.” He had paused, pulling at his kimono; even now he wore a child’s kimono. “Niisan,” he continued to call him despite Crawford’s demands to the contrary, he didn’t show the proper respect and Crawford was often caught between wanting to throttle him and keep him near, “he’s very ill, I’m going to keep him with me for a while.” And Crawford had nodded because he wouldn’t lie, because this wasn’t one of his games. He played games but never with Crawford, well other than calling him Niisan. “I’ve written to Neesan.” Crawford had known that, all such letters were passed through him.
“Why,” Crawford said standing, “why didn’t he say no?”
“I don’t think he knew he could,” the answer hurt Crawford and he hadn’t expected it to. “She taught him nothing.” Crawford had remembered all those times, “’Buchou was prepared to kill her for that alone till we discovered the poison in her things.”
“And now?” Crawford asked, he understood, he always did.
“He’s with the twins. I asked Neesan to train him properly.” He went to go but then stopped at the door with a frown, “you know he told me not to tell Baba,” that Crawford understood, “but he was proud that he did his duty.”
“Syuusuke,” Crawford said, calling him back, “he is to have anything he wants[.]”
Syuusuke’s smile was softly mocking and his eyes narrow and fond, “Niisan,” he protested in his faintly mocking way, “he’s family now.” He knew that Sysuusuke was only in part teasing him. Whatever else Syuusuke was, and he was a great many things, he was loyal to his family.
Crawford sat and stared at the delicate carving on the moon shrine where Syuusuke had taken Aya to give him time to heal and sighed. He hadn’t meant to hurt the boy; he had just been driven mad by lust, tiredness and jealousy. He had spent his time in Edo imagining the boy in the hands of Kudoh, and of lingering unwillingly on the image of Schuldig touching him. He thought of Hikarin leading him to the brothel in town for mizuage. Instead Hikarin had set him up, she had used Crawford’s own desire against him.
She would suffer a hundred deaths for it, Crawford thought to himself, he kept returning to the look of concern and sadness on Syuusuke’s face as he said, “he needed stitches” and Tezuka wasn’t a chiurgeon, he was a field medic. Aya hadn’t wanted Baba to know.
Crawford was scared and knew that Syuusuke had done the right thing, he had done what Crawford had been afraid to do, he had summoned Rukia.
Aya was wedged between two bodies, it was something he was almost getting used to. He was hot and tired and his limbs felt like they were made of lead. The bodies next to him, however, were sweet smelling and soft. He cracked open one eye slowly, with all the energy he could muster to see Saya asleep beside him, he assumed it was Maya on his other side then and felt safe again, his moment’s worry gone. He didn’t know why but he trusted the twins, they were kind to him, in their way although mocking, and the fact that they were there meant that he hadn’t displeased his master. Maya was snoring.
For the first time he felt awake enough to recognise where he was. He was in his mother’s Moon Shrine. It was a circular building in the cherry orchard, his father had hired some of the best artists to decorate it and so it was lushly carved and the windows were shutters of elaborate fretwork. One of them was open, underneath it, on the bench lay the two men he had seen before. The man with the kind smile was lying against the other man, who he had never seen before, who was lying against the wooden partition in the shrine. They weren’t talking, just lying together and their hands were looped. They were staring at the moon.
Aya felt like a voyeur looking at them, not for being wedged between them when they slept the previous night, but for seeing them like this, twined together and staring at the moon. He knew that even though they were silent they were speaking volumes to each other with their breaths. His parents had been the same. Aya remembered that he was meant to have been married by now, if the Taira hadn’t betrayed his family so badly. Her name had been Sara. He had never met her though he had once, young and foolish, sent her a letter with pressed violets inside. He knew he was going to marry her for the Fujimiya and the family’s glory, that she had been chosen for that reason but he had wanted what these two men had, what his parents had.
He wondered if he would have had it with Sara.
In that moment he hated the Taira even more for what they had stolen from him by betraying his father. They had stolen his parents to murder and suicide, taken his name to family shame to be taken in by the kindness of the Takatori. They had done everything in their power to save the Fujimiya; Reiji had married his oldest son to his sister when she could not have hoped for so powerful a match following their disgrace. And then, to appease the emperor’s negotiator sent to investigate the taira the Takatori had sent him, biding him to do his best. He tried, but he thought of the pain that lingered, it wasn’t good enough. He had failed the Takatori, and he had failed Hikarin.
“Oh,” the kind eyed man said turning, his smile was faintly fond and mocking, “you’re awake, how are you feeling?” The other man made a derisive snort, but said nothing.
Aya opened his mouth to speak but the words were harder than they should have been. He wanted to apologise for bothering these kind men, for invading their lives and what was obviously their bed. The tall man was thin with dishevelled sandy brown hair and eyeglasses like Crawford’s, disentangled himself, “would you like some water?”
“Ah, Buchou,” the other said with the same smirking smile, “how practical of you?” He watched as his lover, and it was obvious that the two were lovers, pour a bowl of water which he offered to Aya, beside him Saya and Maya slept the sleep of the dead. “Na, do you think if I poke them,” he said gesturing to the two women, “that they will wake?”
“Probably not,” the Buchou said helping Aya to drink. “you’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days, don’t push yourself?”
“Sorry,” he gasped, as the water eased the pressure on his throat.
“Silly boy,” the kind eyed man said with a grin, “if we didn’t want you here you’d be alone asleep in the doll room,” He squatted next to Aya and pressed his hand to his forehead, suddenly Aya remembered him doing that before, possibly through the long days of his illness, “besides, it wasn’t your fault.”
“But,” Aya protested.
“Not your fault,” the Buchou repeated firmly, “You did not poison yourself.”
Aya had no preparation for that, “he,” Aya struggled for the words, “he tried to kill me?”
Both men looked at each other, “no, child,” the kind eyed man said softly, “Hikarin did.”
Aya looked forlorn, “but where are my manners,” the man with the smile said, “I am your master’s brother,” the Buchou looked at him, “by marriage at least,” he continued, “Fuji Syuusuke, and this is my Buchou,” the way he said it made it a pet name of sorts, “Tezuka Kunimitsu, Crawford asked us to look after you whilst he skins Hikarin.”
“But,” Aya protested.
“The gloss on your lips,” the Buchou, Tezuka, said, “was made of crushed nightshade mixed with lime.” He went to go, “’Suki,” he addressed Fuji in a way way that it was an abbreviation of his name. “I’ll go get him some broth, see if poking does work with the twins.”
Glossary
Ameratsu – The Sun goddess of Shinto
Aneki – older sister
Bikiko - Hel
Dairai – imperial court
Daimyo – a landowner or lord.
Danna – a patron
Doitsujin - German person
Ecchi – pervert
Edo – another name for Tokyo
Fundoshi – a wrapped loincloth worn by men
Gaiden – legend
Gaijin – Foreigner
Gei - art
Genkan – small area in front of the door where shoes are kept
Genki – chipper
Geta – a type of sandal, named for the sound they make
Hakama – split culottes
Hanzubon – shorts
Hikarin – Schoen
Horimono – Japanese tattooing
Iki – sense of style.
Juni Hitoe – Lit twelve layers
Kaasan – Mother
Kawaii – an exclamation of something’s cuteness.
Kimi – she who is without equal.
Kimono – a decorated robe
Konketsu – half-breed.
Kyu – the lowest ranking in Go
Minarai – a time of learning by imitation
Mizuage – a deflowering ceremony
Moku – two corresponding lines in go – marks one area
Monogatori – lit: story of a person; romances or stories
Nagajubon – a light white kimono worn under the more ornate robes
Natto - fermented soybeans
Nigiri – a pressed rice ball
Nihonjin – Japanese person
Noh – a type of drama performed with masks
Obi – the wide belt used to fasten a kimono
Okaasan - mother
Omemie - Neu
Omusubi – wrapped rice balls
Onmyoji – sorcerer
Ouji-sama – your highness.
Seppuku – ritual suicide by disembowelling
Seppun – the act of pressing mouths together- the worst of all perversions.
Shibari - the art of rope tying
Sumimasen – the most formal way of apologising
Tabi – split toed socks
Takoyaki – fried balls of octopus and flour
Tansu – a Japanese chest. This is a distinct style
Tanto – a short bladed sword, usually used by women, part of a set
Tatami – a mat, rooms are measured by tatami
Tayu – a very high-class courtesan, also called an Oiran
Usagi - Todt
Yukuta – a light cotton kimono worn for sleeping or festivals
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