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In Search of Family: Chapter 6

by Conspirator

It was almost mid-July by the time Oibore and the silk merchants returned to Kyoto. During the nearly six weeks he had been gone, Oibore realized just how much his friends in Kyoto meant to him. Yes, he had lived almost his entire life in Tokyo, but now that city seemed foreign to him, and he had no friends there. He found he couldn’t wait to get home to Kyoto to share meals again with Hiro and Fat Boy, hear the news from the world’s biggest gossip Ko, visit Tomoe’s grave, and share his daily morning tea with the calm Toshiro. No doubt about it, this had been a long, hard, disappointing journey, made only slightly better by the linament he had been given by Kenshin’s young doctor friend. ‘I’ll have to take this to someone in Kyoto to see if they can duplicate it,’ Toshiro thought. ‘It really does work wonders.’

Finally the little caravan entered the small marketplace that was home to not only Ko, but also Ko’s friend, the silk merchant. As Oibore supervised the unloading of bolts of fabric, he heard shouts of welcome behind him. It was his friend Hiro, who worked nearby.

"Welcome back! Welcome back! We’ve missed you!" Hiro yelled as he came running up. He and Oibore embraced briefly as Hiro said, "I’ve got to tell Fat Boy you’re back. Come over to my place for dinner--I know you don’t have anything to eat yet at your place, and Fat Boy’s got some stories to tell you." Oibore agreed to come.

Not two seconds later, Ko came flying into the silk shop. "Oibore, you old son of a gun! Glad you’re back!" he said with his usual enthusiasm. "I gotta take you off somewhere—have I got news for you!"

Poor Oibore felt like some kind of local celebrity being pulled in all directions at once, when in reality all he wanted to do was flop down on his own futon in his own room and rest. Nevertheless, once he finished supervising the unloading of all the bolts of silk, he went off with Ko to hear the latest news. ‘Who needs a newspaper when you’ve got Ko as a friend?’ he chuckled to himself.

Ko led Oibore into his private room in back of the store and sat him down. "So, did you meet your son-in-law?" he came right out and asked.

Oibore gave a huge sigh and said, "No." He would have said more, but Ko didn’t give him the chance.

"I figured as much, from what’s been happening around here," Ko said, not missing a beat. "You won’t believe what’s been going on! Right after you left, a whole bunch of really strange, dangerous-looking thugs started wandering into town. The whole city was buzzing with rumors because some of these guys apparently had been dangerous swordsmen during the Bakumatsu. So what were they doing here, right? Well, anyway, around mid-June there was this huge attack on a little restaurant out near the foothills at the edge of town. It was a bunch of these thugs, and they just about destroyed the restaurant and the block surrounding it. I heard about it from some police friends I have, and they said these guys were defeated by an old man, some ninjas, and a kid and a girl wielding bokkens. Oh, yes, and a very tall swordsman wearing a huge white cape. Unbelievable!

"But that’s not all, because later that same day, there were these really strange explosions coming from Mt. Hiei. The whole city could see columns of thick, black smoke coming from the mountain. We didn’t know if it was a volcano or what! Well, according to my police friends, it turns out there was some kind of secret factory in the mountain run by some madman who wanted to overthrow the government. Now, here’s where the story really gets unbelievable. They say that this madman was defeated by the Hitokiri Battousai along with a streetfighter friend, a captain of the Shinsengumi, and the leader of the Oniwabanshuu, and that caused the factory to explode! Well, first off, what’s the Battousai doing here when he’s supposed to be in Tokyo, right? But who’s going to believe that loyal Bakufu types like the Shinsengumi or Oniwabanshuu would help one of the most famous Ishin Shishi to protect the Meiji government! The world may have changed and all, but not that much, I’d bet!"

Oibore just smiled and laid a calming hand on the arm of his overwrought friend. "Ko," he said quietly, "I have a feeling that everything you just told me is probably true."

"No! You don’t say!"

"When I got to Tokyo," Oibore said, "I found out that my son-in-law, the Battousai, had been asked by Governor Okubo himself to save the government from some threat in Kyoto. Until you told me just now, I didn’t know the details of what happened here, but I do know that Kenshin was gravely wounded and was close to death after winning the battle. That’s weighed heavily on my mind, not knowing if he survived. Do you know?"

"Gosh, I don’t….," Ko said quietly. Oibore could see his disappointment at not having all the news for once.

"Well, perhaps I’ll find out someday," Oibore sighed. "It’s been a long and disappointing trip, although I did get to meet a friend of his, a lovely young woman who’s a doctor. And I learned that he has a close circle of friends who care a lot about him. At least that’s something…."

He got up to leave. "Ko, thank you for arranging this trip for me. I know it didn’t turn out the way I had hoped, but I’m glad I did it. Now, though, I’m very tired. I’ll stop in tomorrow at the usual time, and we can get your son’s lessons moving again." And with that, he left to return home and take a well-deserved nap before dinner.

Later, as evening fell, Oibore walked over to Hiro’s room at the boarding house for the promised dinner. Hiro was no great cook, but the food was good enough, and at least Oibore didn’t have to do the cooking himself. It was nice to have a meal with friends again.

"So, do you want to tell us about your trip first, or should we have Fat Boy here tell you what he’s heard?" asked Hiro.

Oibore hesitated a second, then said, "Maybe I should tell you something I was afraid to tell anyone when I first came to Kyoto 10 years ago. The Hitokiri Battousai was married once, when he was just 15, but his wife was killed accidently shortly after their marriage. It was my daughter, the one whose grave I visit, who was married to him. So, you might say that he is my son-in-law."

Hiro and Fat Boy looked at each other impassively, then looked back at Oibore. "You know, old fool, we both figured there was something going on with that interest of yours," Hiro finally said. "We just couldn’t figure out exactly what the connection was." Then he and Fat Boy burst into laughter.

‘They know me too well,’ Oibore smiled to himself as he joined in.

As the laughter died down, Fat Boy spoke up, blunt as usual. "Got a friend who saw it all," he began. "You heard yet what’s happened around here?"

"Ko told me a little something," Oibore replied.

"Yeah, well, this guy I know was in the thick of it at that restaurant what got busted up, the Aoiya. He lives just down the block. Says this gang of really weird fighters descended on the place—giants, some flying guy, a dame with a scythe, you name it. He figures it has to do with the red-head, because he saw the guy visit there before it all happened."

"You mean the Battousai? Himura Kenshin?" Oibore asked.

"Yeah, him," Fat Boy answered. "He was there along with some others. Descriptions are pretty strange, but he said there was a bunch of people from Tokyo who seemed to be his friends—some tall guy with wild hair and the symbol for evil on his back, a girl swinging a bokken, and a kid about 10 years old. The red-head and the tall guy take off one morning with a policeman, but this ain’t just any policeman. My friend says he’s positive it’s a guy who used to head a squad of Shinsengumi way back when, name of Saitou. Says he ran into this guy just once about 11 years ago and that he’d never forget those evil eyes of his. Yup, he’s positive it’s this Saitou guy, all dressed up in a policeman’s uniform but carrying a regular katana. They all acted like they was friends."

He paused for a sip of sake, then continued. "So off they go, and that very afternoon these weirdos show up trying to destroy the place! You can believe that he and everyone else went running from their houses when those giants started whomping through their roofs! And believe it or not, that little kid and that girl with the bokken managed to defeat some of these guys! Then he says the folks who own this restaurant are really ninjas, and they defeated some of the others. And then," he paused to catch his breath, "he says this really tall guy with a huge white cape and a lot of attitude shows up and finishes off the last one!"

He paused once again for more sake. "So now my friend’s gotta camp out in the street, right? And what does he see about 10 o’clock that night? The tall guy with the wild hair practically dragging the red-head back to the Aioya, along with some other tall guy all the ninjas seem to know. All three of them looked half-dead, he says, but the red-head looked the worst—says his clothes was all ripped, and he was covered with blood from head to toe. No sign of that policeman, though."

Oibore broke in. "Fat Boy, does your friend know if Kenshin survived?"

Fat Boy favored Oibore with one of his rare smiles. "Don’t you worry, father-in-law. He says they brought in some lady doctor from Tokyo, who brought him back to life. My friend heard this from the workmen repairing the restaurant—the owners had to find somewhere else to stay while it was being fixed. And just last week the red-head himself showed up on the block with the ninjas. Says he looked pretty rickety, but he was alive."

"Fat Boy, that is the best news I’ve had in a long time!" Oibore said. Then he told his friends the tale of his trip to Tokyo. "So," he concluded, "I’ve been in suspense for the past six weeks, wondering if Kenshin was alive or dead. Now, thanks to you, I know he’s alive." It was a good end to a very long day.

The next morning, Oibore went to visit Tomoe’s grave, as was his custom. Today, however, his heart was heavy. It was good to know Kenshin was alive, but he still felt he had failed his daughter. He put his hand on the gravestone and sighed, reliving in his mind what had happened on his trip. As he did so, a feeling of peace and contentment came over him, almost as if Tomoe herself were trying to comfort him. It was a feeling he hadn’t had since his first visit, a feeling that Tomoe was with him. "Thank you, daughter," he said softly. Then he rose to find his friend at the monastery.

A happy Toshiro greeted him at the door. "Friend, it’s good to see you again," the monk said warmly as the two embraced.

"Toshiro, I didn’t get to meet him," Oibore said sadly.

"I know," he replied. "Himura-kun was here last week to visit Tomoe’s grave. Let’s dispense with the tea ceremony today. Let’s just sit and talk while we drink instead."

As they made their way inside, Oibore said wistfully, "You mean, if I hadn’t left town, I would have gotten to meet him…?"

"Oibore," Toshiro said as he brought out the cups and trays, "you of all people should know that everything happens for a reason, even your trip to Tokyo."

After they had settled themselves, Toshiro began his story. "Just like everyone else in Kyoto," he said, "I had heard rumors of what happened on Mt. Hiei. They said that Himura-kun had either been killed or was close to death. Every day I prayed that he was alive and would recover. So, last week when I opened the door and found him standing there, I have to admit I got a bit emotional—I probably embarrassed him—but it was like seeing a son come back to life."

He stopped as he quickly wiped his eyes. "The first thing he said to me was, ‘I’ve kept my promise to Tomoe. I’ve never killed again, ever.’"

"Then how did he….?"

"I don’t quite understand it all—he’s a very self-effacing man," Toshiro replied. "What he said was, ‘Shishio was consumed by the hatred that burned within him,’ and, ‘The age chose that the weak should not be food for the strong; they should be able to live in peace.’ I could tell from his eyes that this battle was still too raw, that he couldn’t talk about it yet, but it was clear that he defeated this man without breaking his vow."

They sat in silence for awhile, then Toshiro continued his story.

"He’s had a hard life. He’s wandered for all these 10 years, never staying anywhere for very long, never allowing anyone to get close enough to become a friend. He said he learned early on in his wanderings that if someone did become his friend, they risked being injured or killed because of him. ‘I seem to be a magnet for revenge,’ is how he put it. There was such sadness in his eyes as he told me this."

"But he does have friends," Oibore cut in. "I have met one, in Tokyo."

"Ah, yes," Toshiro said. "It seems about four months ago he met a young woman there who needed help. She was a kendo master trying to defend the honor of her late father’s dojo against an impostor claiming to be the Hitokiri Battousai. ‘She asked me to stay,’ he told me. ‘She told me my past didn’t matter to her, that it was only the rurouni that mattered now.’ He said no one had ever told him that before, that no one had ever accepted him despite his past. The way he said it, he seemed truly amazed at this turn of events. I think he has strong feelings for this young woman, because he said that saying goodbye to her before coming to Kyoto nearly broke his heart."

"Then why did he leave her behind?" Oibore asked. "Did he say?"

"I did ask him that," Toshiro answered. "All he said was, ‘I was afraid that she and my friends would come to harm if they were with me, but they all followed me here anyway.’ He told me he had sworn to protect them always, and that several times he had done just that against people out for his life. Now he’s found that they want to protect him as well. Again, he seemed truly amazed by this. I realized then that probably he’s never had a real friend before in his entire life. Do you know, he calls himself by the old-fashioned ‘sessha’—unworthy one—and he seems to believe he truly is unworthy. I told him perhaps it was time to give that up!"

He smiled as he remembered that part of the conversation.

"He told me one other thing. Before this battle, he visited his shishou for the first time since leaving him many years ago. He had never gone back because he felt he had dishonored his shishou’s teachings, but he found that his shishou forgave him. During this visit, he said his shishou taught him a crucial lesson, that there is nothing stronger or more important than the will to live. All these years, he thought it didn’t matter whether he lived or died. Now his shishou showed him that it did. He said he probably would have died on Mt. Hiei if he hadn’t learned this lesson. ‘I lay there dying,’ he told me, ‘but I had promised Kaoru that I would return. I knew I had to live, so I willed myself to stay alive.’

The two old men sat in silence once again. Then Oibore said, "I wish I had been here, if only just to see him. I don’t even know what he looks like, other than that he’s short, with red hair and an X scar on his cheek. Has he changed much since you last saw him 10 years ago?"

"Well, he hasn’t grown any taller, if that’s what you mean!" Toshiro laughed. "To be honest, though, he looked very pale and weak. He was apparently unconscious for days and bedridden until just shortly before he came here. He’s been staying at an inn not too far away, but just that short walk here seemed to tire him out. I could see fresh scars on either side of his neck and on his hand, and it looked like he had sustained a terrible burn on one shoulder; there was some kind of jagged wound on the other. I could also see a large bandage just above his waist, and who knows what might be on his back or legs. He will be healing for a long time, I’m afraid. Still, he said they were planning to take the train home within the next few days, which I presume they did."

Oibore nodded. Then, after sipping his tea, he told Toshiro about his trip to Tokyo and his meeting with Kenshin’s friend, Megumi. He also told him everything Fat Boy had related about the fight at the Aioya.

"A tall swordsman in a white cape helped out?" Toshiro repeated. "I’ll bet that was Himura-kun’s shishou. He mentioned that his shishou had come to help his friends. And I’ll bet that’s who the tall man in the cape was that I saw with Himura-kun at Tomoe’s grave."

"Toshiro, did you tell him about me?"

"I wrestled with that question while he was visiting," he said. "I decided that was something only you should do, in your own way and in your own time. I hope I did the right thing…."

"Yes, probably you’re right," Oibore said with a sigh. "Perhaps, when I’ve saved up a bit of money, I’ll take another trip to Tokyo. This time, though, I plan to do it by train. And at least this time I’ll know where he lives!"

Then it was back to the daily routine of life as he had known it since moving to Kyoto. In the mornings, there was breakfast with Hiro and Fat Boy, followed by his visits to Tomoe’s grave and Toshiro. In the afternoons, he gave lessons to Ko’s younger son Kogoro ("Named this one for a great statesman, too!" Ko had explained) and two children of another merchant. And even though he was determined to save some money for a train ticket, he felt it would not be right to stop bringing those weekly meals to the inhabitants of Rakuninmura. ‘After all,’ he decided, ‘if fate hadn’t stepped in, I’d still be living there myself.’ He still earned a little money from his book of Battousai legends, though sales had dropped off as the years went by. Unless he took on more students or found some other source of income, he figured it might take until spring before he had enough saved up for a round-trip ticket.

As luck would have it, though, a new source of income appeared. After returning from Tokyo, he had decided to thank Ko for all his help arranging the trip by making him a beautifully calligraphed scroll of haiku. Ko thought it was so wonderful that he hung it in his shop. Soon patrons were asking Oibore to make scrolls for them, too. ‘Maybe by winter I’ll be able to make that trip,’ Oibore now calculated.

But plans changed suddenly in mid-September. He had gone to visit Tomoe’s grave as usual, but instead of the peace and calm he normally felt there, he sensed agitation. "Tomoe, daughter, whatever is the matter?" he asked rhetorically as he stared at her gravestone. He of course didn’t expect an answer, but in his heart he heard, "Father, go to him. He needs you." Oibore stood straight up at this. ‘She’s speaking to me, just like she did that first time!’ He hurried up to the monastery to tell Toshiro. The monk was waiting for him at the door, anxiety written all over his face.

"Toshiro," Oibore blurted out, "she’s spoken to me again. Something’s the matter!"

"I know, old friend. I think you may be needed in Tokyo."

As the two hurried inside, Toshiro didn’t even wait to get the tea before telling Oibore his news. "Yesterday afternoon, a young ninja named Makimachi Misao came to see me with a letter from Himura-kun’s young woman friend, Kamiya Kaoru. The letter said there was an emergency and asked that I give Tomoe’s diary to young Makimachi-san to bring to Tokyo."

He stopped as he watched Oibore’s surprised reaction, then sat the old man down.

"Takuo, the emergency is that someone is threatening to kill Himura Kenshin. This someone has already attacked those associated with Himura-kun. This someone is Yukishiro Enishi."

"Enishi? My son Enishi?" Oibore was in a daze. "He’s still alive…?" Then he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "You say my son Enishi wants to kill Kenshin? But I can’t let that happen!"

Oibore’s mind started racing. His son was alive but bent on destroying the man who gave his daughter happiness. He was needed, no question about that, but where did his duty lie, with his son or his daughter’s husband? ‘Father, go to him. He needs you,’ he remembered Tomoe saying to him just minutes ago. He knew in his heart that she meant Kenshin. "Toshiro, I must go right away to Tokyo!"

Toshiro convinced him to at least stay for tea so they could talk through the best way to approach Kenshin. Toshiro felt strongly that this was not the time for him to write a letter of introduction. "I think you should bring Tomoe’s hairpin instead," he said. "That will say more to him than any letter I could write." As for Enishi, Toshiro said, "First go and find your son-in-law. I am sure your path will become clear once you’ve done that."

Oibore then rushed off to Ko’s shop to tell him what had happened. "I know it’s been only two months—I hate to break off young Kogoro’s studies so soon—but I must go," he told the greengrocer.

Ko looked at his friend with concern. "I understand," Ko said with uncharacteristic quiet. "I pray you are not too late. And don’t worry—my son will still be here to teach when you get back."

Oibore hurried back to his room. ‘How much money do I have?’ he wondered. ‘I’m just too old for that long walk on the Tokaido Road, and I don’t have any more of that wonderful linament!’ He counted up his savings and figured he had just barely enough for a round-trip train ticket, but nothing left over to pay for an inn. ‘No matter,’ he thought, ‘Rakuninmura is good enough for me.’ With that in mind, he found his oldest, most threadbare clothes to wear on the trip. He then took Tomoe’s hairpin out of the small case he had bought for it. The safest place for this, he decided, considering that he would be staying at Rakuninmura, would be in his own hair. ‘Hope people don’t get the wrong idea about me!’ he laughed to himself. There was just one more thing he wanted—no, needed—to do. He quickly found a blank scroll and composed a haiku. ‘It’s the least I can do to thank Takani Megumi for her kindness,’ he thought as he put his red mark on the parchment.

He arrived bright and early at the train station the next morning. By noon he would be in Tokyo.