Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

In Search of Family: Chapter 2

by Conspirator

Kyoto turned out to be a city of chaos. Wherever Oibore looked, he saw signs of past fighting. Some sections of town had been totally burned to the ground, and although the fighting had largely stopped in the Kyoto area, he still felt a palpable fear in the air. "Good thing I hooked up with that convoy of merchants on the Tokaido Road," Oibore thought to himself. "It looks like it's still not safe to travel alone, even in the city."

With no place to go, and no money even if he did have a place to go, Oibore instinctively headed to where he knew he'd find the best home away from home—Kyoto's version of Rakuninmura. He had even saved some of the food the merchants had given him during the trip as a sort of entrance ticket. It didn't take too long to find the seedy side of town, and not too long to find the home of the homeless. His instincts about his entrance ticket proved to be right on the mark.

"Hey, old man! What the hell 'ya think you're doing here?" yelled a rather large, unpleasant-looking man as Oibore made his way into a group of men.

Oibore smiled his most benign smile and bowed, saying, "Maa, maa, just an old fool down on his luck, looking for a place to stay. I don't suppose you'd care to join me in a little food—I'm so hungry after my long trip.."

"Food?" The unpleasant-looking man perked up right away. "Hey, Fat Boy!" he yelled to what appeared to be an ex-samurai, "Look what we got here! It's dinner and a new guest!"

Fat Boy sauntered over, eyeing Oibore suspiciously. "Where'd he come from?" he growled. "How'd he come by the food?"

"Ah, you're always so suspicious—cheer up, let's eat!"

And with that, Oibore found himself surrounded by ex-samurai, down-on-their- luck merchants, farmers, and a handful of men whose backgrounds he could not guess. As the food was passed around, conversation flowed, and the mood mellowed substantially until he felt as if he had known these men all his life. By the time dinner was done, he knew that Fat Boy ("Don't call me nothin' else," he warned with a scowl) had been a ronin for years, and that the unpleasant-looking man was really named Hiro and had lost his family in one of Kyoto's fires. They, in turn, now knew that he himself had just come from Edo to, as he put it, get a change of scenery. 'Is it just me, or is this the only place in Japan where social class means nothing?' he mused. Whatever the answer, there was no denying it—the companionship and acceptance these men showed made Oibore feel good.

The next day he spent investigating the city and trying to follow Katsura's map to the monastery. That proved to be a difficult task. When he had arrived the evening before, it had been dusk. Now that it was daylight, what he saw as he left Rakuninmura shocked him. All around, for blocks and blocks, there was a teeming mass of country folk who had either been left homeless by war or had fled the countryside in advance of the armies. As he wandered through the crowds, he could tell from overheard conversations that one large group hailed from Toba and another from Fushimi, both of which had burned to the ground the previous winter. Yet another group was newly arrived from Aizu, where fighting was still raging. He silently thanked Tokugawa Yoshinobu for handing over Edo without a fight, thus sparing his own city this kind of misery.

Eventually, he made his way out of the squalid refugee area and into a small marketplace, still lost in thought. He came back to his senses rather quickly, however, as he was suddenly accosted by a rather large group of ragged boys.

"Hey, old man, give us some money," one of the boys yelled, brandishing a tanto, "or we'll give you a souvenir you won't forget!"

Oibore didn't know what to do. It should have been fairly obvious to anyone, from the threadbare nature of his clothing, that he was anything but a wealthy man.

"I'm just as penniless as you are!" he sputtered, but that just provoked the oldest of the gang to threaten him further. As the boys started moving in to rough him up, salvation arrived in the form of a greengrocer.

"Hey, you hooligans, get away from here or I'll send the Hitokiri Battousai after you!" he shouted. Brandishing his grocer's knife, he sent the boys scurrying. "Nasty little brats," he muttered to no one in particular.

He took the bewildered and frightened Oibore by the arm and led him into his small shop. "Sorry, old man. Those kids have it tough, what with the war driving them from their homes and all, but still..!"

"You know the Hitokiri Battousai?" Oibore asked quickly, once he regained his composure.

"Nah, it's just something to scare the kids with," the man laughed. "Never met him—you can tell 'cause I'm still alive!—but I hear he's nearly seven feet tall, muscles like tree trunks, and blood-red hair from all the lives he's taken. They say he once slaughtered an entire squad of Shinsengumi single-handed just for fun, and you know what a bloodthirsty bunch they were!"

That certainly didn't sound like the man Katsura had described, Oibore thought to himself. Aloud he said, "So where is this hitokiri now?"

"Got me," was the reply. "Some say he was killed at Toba Fushimi, some say he's still alive, but whichever it is, he hasn't been seen since then. He's just disappeared. To which I say, 'Good riddance!'—to him and the Shinsengumi both! You're not from around here, are you."

"No" replied Oibore, "I just arrived yesterday. I'm what you might call a wandering teacher, looking for some students."

"A teacher, eh? Not many of them in town right now, what with so many of the men off fighting. And my son needs someone to teach him figures and writing so he can work in the store. Maybe we could strike a bargain here. What's your name?"

"People call me Oibore," Oibore replied, not wanting to get too specific. He had no idea whether people might have heard of his daughter or her connection to the Hitokiri Battousai.

" 'Old Fool?' Hah! I can just see myself telling my son he'll be taking lessons from an old fool! Well, my name's Ko the Greengrocer. When can you start?"

A stroke of luck, thought Oibore—my first morning out, and already I've lined up a student! "Ko-san," he replied, "you honor me with your request. If I could just have a day or two to learn my way around the city, find a place to live.."

"No problem, Oibore-sensei," Ko replied, smiling, "just let me know when you're ready. And if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know— I can tell you've been through some hard times. Here's a bit of rice and tofu so you won't get hungry."

Oibore was truly overwhelmed at Ko's generosity and bowed profusely as he left the shop. Then, once again, he stepped out into the streets of Kyoto, this time keeping a wary eye on everyone he passed.

Despite his map from Katsura, he found it difficult to find his destination. Some of the landmarks Katsura had noted seemed no longer to exist, and some of the twists and turns of Kyoto's streets seemed to take him in circles, so it was late afternoon before he finally found the monastery. He wanted so much to enter the grounds right away, but after his encounter with the gang of boys that morning, the thought of having to walk through Kyoto after dark scared him. 'At least now I know how to get here,' he thought to himself. So, he returned to Rakuninmura, disappointed that it was too late to visit the monastery but elated at the thought that tomorrow he would, at long last, be with his beloved daughter.

On the way back, Oibore kept an eye out for any food or drink he could scavange. He had saved a bit of Ko's rice and tofu and added to it two half- full bottles of sake he found on the street. 'This should make for a nice meal ticket,' he laughed to himself. Sure enough, when he entered Rakuninmura, his new friends were elated.

"Sake!" Fat Boy and Hiro yelled in unison. Two sets of hands appeared out of nowhere to grab at the unexpected treat. It almost caused Oibore to lose hold of the food.

"Maa, maa," Oibore smiled, trying to calm them down. "I also have some rice and tofu. Do you have anything to share with me?"

"Sure do, old man," answered Hiro. "Fat Boy here managed to wrangle some left-over hot pot from a restaurant"—Fat Boy flexed his muscles to show how he did it—"and that farmer fellow over there found some daikon growing wild outside of town. So how was Kyoto?"

Oibore recounted his adventure of the morning, mentioning the Hitokiri Battousai to see what kind of reaction he would get from his listeners. It was Fat Boy who rose to the occasion.

"Yeah, I've heard of him," Fat Boy growled. "I may be a bum now, but I was a good fighter in my day. I've met some samurai who saw the Battousai in action. They say he moves faster than the eye can see, and no one survives an encounter with him. A fighter's worst nightmare, they say, or at least he was. Seems he's disappeared." He sounded distinctly disappointed at that.

'So, Katsura was telling the truth about his whereabouts, at least,' Oibore mused. To Fat Boy he said, "This Battousai sounds like the stuff of legends. Maybe someday I can write down all the legends and try to sell them to parents trying to scare their children! If you hear any really good infor—I mean, stories—about him, let me know. Wouldn't it be something to actually find him!"

Fat Boy laughed. "Old fool, you wouldn't want to meet him unless you're ready to die! But sure, I'll pass along anything I hear."

With that, Oibore excused himself and found a place to sleep. Finding a job, the monastery, and someone who actually knew men who had seen the Battousai—he had accomplished a lot in his first day in Kyoto. He was almost too excited to sleep, but before he knew it, it was sunrise and time to head for the monastery.