Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
01: Chabudai
~*~
Kamiya Kioku was not happy.
Her husband ignored her carefully expressed anger, reading the
papers in front of him with increased interest. The war was over, finally, and
life in Edo was beginning to return to normal. He himself had come home only
three weeks previous, and the mood that fact had created in his mind would
certainly not be spoiled by the woman's tense spirit.
Besides the war, the primary topic of that day's paper - as it
had been for several years, now - little else was occurring in the city. Murders
- 'I'll probably have to deal with that eventually as well,' he thought
with dread - theft, vandalism... the normal events of a large town where the
people thrived on violence. There was certainly enough turbulent emotions
spouting from the capital to spread to their fair city. As an old soldier and an
official policeman of Edo, he had enough to deal with, without having to think
of Kyoto again.
His daughter watched her mother serve their meal with a deep
frown on her face, unsure of the stormy emotions surrounding the chabudai at
which they knelt. It was 1869, and Kaoru would be eight years old in a month.
She had not been sure what to think when her father had come
home. As she remembered, the household had been peaceful and happy without his
stern, intense presence. He was like a mountain, tall and hard, and when he left
there had been nothing left but her mother, the wind, and smiles. It had been
quiet, and her mother had kissed her goodnight as she always had before, like
nothing had changed.
But when he came back, the first thing her had done was pick her
up and swing her around in his arms, and she had spread her fingers wide to feel
the wind flowing through them. She had felt as if she were flying, and
afterwards, still carrying her, he had kissed her mother as if he, too, wanted
to wish her goodnight. Maybe he had yearned for that kiss for a long time.
"Welcome home," Kioku had given him a small
smile; they had gone inside to have dinner, and the silence returned, without
the feeling of peace she had grown to love while he was away.
The miso was bland, the beef slightly overcooked. Kioku murmured
an apology, but her husband merely waved it off. Koshijirou was not easily ruffled
by such trivial things, although it was unusual for her to make a mistake. She
loved cooking, and she always placed her greatest effort into her duties.
After dinner, they treated themselves to shaved ice and steaming
green tea. Kaoru took great delight in pouring a little bit of tea into her ice,
the flavoured dessert melting into transparent crystals, tinged yellow and green
by the crushed leaves of their drink. Her parents merely smiled at her antics,
although not at each other. Later, Kioku broke a dish in the sink, her eyes
narrowed in fierce determination as she washed them. Koshijirou left for his night
shift, muttering a quick "thank you for the meal," his sword clinking against
his belt. Kaoru watched them both, curious and sad at the same time, and
suddenly felt very determined that she would never be like that when she grew
up; so secretive, so distant.
She wanted to grow up, and she would never, ever get married
like her parents did. She wanted to grow up quickly, so she could live alone and
do what she pleased, without having to rely on anyone.
It seemed like something that was very far away.
Eventually, of course, she did grow up. It did not turn out to
be as far away as it first seemed. Her mother died not long after that, and
through her tears and the sudden lack of direction in her life, she discovered
that she wanted to have someone to rely on. She did not want to be alone so
badly.
Perhaps her father was the same, she also realized, as she stood
against the shoji, watching him hold her mother's kimono close to his body and
cry, and cry, and cry.
She learned that she was more like her father than she ever
could have realized before. That... they both needed someone to rely upon.
The next day, he began teaching kenjutsu in the training hall
that had been her grandfather's, unused for nearly twenty years, and she became
his first student.
~*~
After he left to fight in the Seinan war,
nine years later, and did not return, she learned to rely on herself. She left
the dojo open to all students seeking her father's ideal - to protect, not to
kill - and kept on living where she had always been. She had not expected to
remain there when on her own, but rather had thought she would move out and find
her own path, her own home. She had not expected to live so much longer than her
parents.
When she could afford it, she ate at the local restaurants near
her home, now Tokyo instead of the Edo she remembered. She visited her friend
Tae at the Akabeko, who was a few years older than her, yet was still happy to
spend time with the independent assistant master. She tried to learn how to
cook, with Tae at her side giving instructions when she could, but each attempt
seemed faulty in some manner. The meals were burned, overspiced or without
flavour, sickly and undercooked. Each failure tore into her heart, but she would
not be deterred, and still she tried.
She never traveled, because it was expensive and she was forced
to learn to be careful with her money. Yen did not come easy, especially for a
female kendo instructor. She learned to be thrifty, to use every resource
available. She made a routine for her life, careful and sure.
She met a wanderer in the streets one night, expecting to see
someone other than who he was, and found more than she ever thought was
possible.
~*~
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