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In Search of Family: Chapter 8

by Conspirator

It was a bit of a relief to leave Rakuninmura and reenter the real world, but Oibore wasn’t out just to enjoy the sunshine. He needed to earn some money in order to take care of Kenshin properly. In particular, he needed to buy something nourishing to help Kenshin recover from his loss of blood, but that kind of food didn’t come cheap. He had only a few coins left and quickly calculated that it would be enough to buy a few scrolls and a little ink. It was a gamble, but he decided that making some calligraphed scrolls to sell was probably the quickest and easiest way for an old man like him to earn some quick cash.

He headed for the nearest marketplace, made his purchases, then sat himself down at the edge of the area to make the scrolls. It wasn’t hard, considering he remembered every haiku he had ever written to sell in Kyoto. Within the space of a few hours, he had made five beautiful scrolls and sold three. Evening was coming, however, and he couldn’t take the scrolls back to Rakuninmura with him—they would be stolen in a flash by someone even more desperate than himself. So when a woman came by to look at one of the remaining scrolls and asked how much it cost, he gathered up his courage and said, "Would you be willing to give me a place to sleep tonight in exchange for the scroll? A shed would do…."

The woman looked him over, carefully assessing whether this man was trustworthy or some kind of elderly homicidal maniac. She must have decided the former, for she said, "Well, if you’ll agree to make another scroll for my daughter—she’s getting married in a few days."

"Of course, of course!" a delighted Oibore answered. "Just tell me what you’d like it to say, and I will compose one just for her!" Then he gathered his things and followed the woman home, where she showed him to a small shed.

"You can sleep here tonight," she said, "but before you do, you’ll make that scroll!" which he did.

The next day he decided he’d use a small portion of his earnings to buy some more scrolls, but his main plan was to visit Megumi. He didn’t need an excuse—he had a little money to spare, and he figured that buying a bottle of her wonderful linament would be a good use for it With its potent odor, he figured it was one item that wouldn’t be stolen when he got back to Rakuninmura! He worked on his scrolls until close to noon, then headed over to the clinic. He hoped that the noon hour would be slow for her, and he was right—it was Megumi who answered the door when he knocked.

"Oibore-san," she said, smiling this time. She looked at his bag of scrolls and ink, and said, "Looks like you’ve been busy."

He greeted her, bowing, and said, "Takani-sensei, I have just a little money with me this time, and I would dearly like to buy a bottle of your wonderful linament."

"Ah, you like that linament, do you?" she laughed, and she showed him in. He noticed his scroll hanging prominently by her desk. As she handed him a bottle, she said, "Please let me apologize for my behavior the other day. With everything that’s been going on here, you can understand why I was so suspicious…."

"No need to apologize," Oibore said. "I could tell that your friend’s death was not the only thing weighing on your mind. Your friend Sano-san told me that your other friend, Himura-san, had disappeared. He seemed very angry about it."

Megumi’s eyes took on a very strange look. "We found him, you know, at Rakuninmura." She looked over at Oibore to see what his reaction would be. He feigned surprise.

"He was just sitting there like the living dead," she went on, "like he had given up on life." Her face took on a hard look. "How dare he," she said in a low voice.

"Well, the poor man," said Oibore. "To have something like this happen to him, I’m sure it was devastating."

"Oh, and it’s not the first time, either," Megumi broke in. "This Enishi fellow turns out to be the brother of someone he married when he was only 15, and it seems this wife was also killed when she got in the middle of one of his battles."

‘So, he finally told his friends about Tomoe,’ Oibore noted. Out loud he said, "Perhaps that made it all the worse this time."

"You don’t understand, Oibore-san," she retorted quickly. "You could say that in one way or another, it was Kenshin who gave all of us our lives. I was being forced to do something horrible by someone who held me captive, but he and Sano saved me. I wanted to kill myself, but Kenshin taught me that death would bring no atonement for what I had been forced to do. Instead, he showed me that I could atone by saving lives with my medical skills.

"And that young boy you saw me with at the funeral, Yahiko—he’s an orphan who had been forced to be a pickpocket by a gang of thieves. Kenshin rescued him from their hideout and convinced Kaoru to take him in and teach him at her dojo." Wistfully she added, "He was so proud of Yahiko after the fight in Kyoto, and after last week’s fight with Enishi’s gang."

Then the fire returned to her voice. "Even Sano—that big rooster-head! He was a fighter for hire who fought out of anger over something that happened during the Bakumatsu, but Kenshin convinced him that protecting others was a better use for his fighting skills. Don’t you see, Kenshin’s the one who gave all of us our lives back—he has no right to give up on his own life now!"

When she finished, she seemed surprised at her own tirade. She put her hand to her head and sat down. "I’m sorry," she said softly. "I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I saw him there. I should have treated his wounds. I didn’t. He kept telling us to go away…." Her voice trailed off.

After a few moments of silence, Oibore said gently, "Perhaps he needs time to heal. Not his physical wounds—those will take care of themselves, I’m sure—but the mental ones. He failed to protect the one he loved most, and now he may feel like he has no purpose in life. It will take time for him to find his answers."

"You know, you still remind me of my old grandfather," Megumi said with a sad smile. "He would have told me the same thing. You’re right, of course. It’s just so hard for us because he won’t let us help him."

Oibore rose to leave. "Takani-sensei, thanks for the linament, and please, have faith in your friend. He just needs a little push and a little time."

"Call me Megumi," she said, as she walked him to the door. "By the way, if you don’t mind my asking, Oibore couldn’t be your real name. What is your real name?"

Oibore chuckled. No way he was answering that one! "You know," he said, "it’s been so long since I used my real name, I’ve forgotten what it was!"

He walked back to the marketplace near Rakuninmura to sell the rest of his scrolls, then headed back to the shed where he had slept the night before.

The following morning, it was time to take his earnings and buy some food—some fresh fruit, vegetables, and tofu for Kenshin and himself, and some dumplings, soba noodles, and preserved fish for his circle of friends. He also bought a fish hook and some string, then headed down to the river, where he made himself a simple fishing pole. ‘A fresh fish would really be sweet,’ he thought, but by noontime he hadn’t caught a thing. So, he decided to call it quits and head back to Rakuninmura. He had been away nearly three days; he hoped Kuma had kept his promise to look out for Kenshin.

He was singing and swinging his fishing pole, which now held the bags with his purchases, as he neared his destination when he saw a young boy and an older girl trying to push their way in. ‘A couple of young ‘uns come to join us?’ he wondered.

Then he saw who it was—Yahiko and a girl in a rather skimpy outfit. Despite their small size and young age, they both put up a good fight against the swarm of men trying to keep them out, but even skill could not overcome ten heavy men piling on top of them in a heap. Oibore decided to help them out. Pulling the dumplings from his bag, he walked nonchalantly over to the melee and scattered his treats on the ground.

"Looks like fun!" he yelled to the men in the heap. "It’s been three days since I saw y’all. I brought some dumplings from town!"

As he knew they would, the men got up in a flash and headed for the food. As the two youths picked themselves up, he heard Yahiko call the girl Misao. Wasn’t that the name of the ninja girl who went to get the diary from Toshiro? ‘That would explain the outfit,’ he chuckled.

"You all right, young’uns?" he asked them as they dusted themselves off.

"Who are you?" Yahiko snapped, looking Oibore up and down with distaste.

"Why, I’m the nicest old guy you’ll ever meet!" Oibore replied with a laugh. To himself he thought, ‘This boy sure has spunk!’

Misao looked at him suspicously, but decided to ignore him as she and Yahiko went over to Kenshin. Oibore didn’t want to look like he was hovering, so he stayed a short distance away until it looked like the two were finished. As he walked over, he overheard Yahiko say, "…. I’ll wield my sword for the weak and those who suffer, just like you did. I’m not coming back here again…."

The two walked off without even a glance back. By this time, Kuma and his friends had come up and were trying to peek into Oibore’s bags.

"Maa, maa," laughed Oibore, "can’t a man even have half a second to himself before being panhandled? Yes, I’ve got some goodies for all of us to eat tonight—it’ll be a wonderful, marvelous, fantastic dinner, I promise!"

There was general approval at this prospect. As the group scattered, Kuma pulled Oibore to the side and said, "I did what you asked—I left some food and water for your pal there, but I don’t think he had much. He’s not doin’ real well, ‘ya know?"

"Kuma, I appreciate everything you’ve done," Oibore said warmly. "Actually, I’ve found some stuff I hope will help him recover more quickly." He showed Kuma the fruit, vegetables, and tofu. "I wasn’t planning to give any of this to the other fellows, unless I have leftovers, but I did want to give some to you in thanks." He handed Kuma some plums and carrots. "I’ll save some tofu for you for later."

Kuma nodded and took his gifts. "It’s probably a good thing you’re taking him under your wing," he said. "With that gash and all, if he croaked here, the police would be down on us so fast…. I’ll help you out if you need it."

Oibore thanked him profusely, then walked over to where Kenshin lay slumped against the wall.

"So, young fellow," he said to the motionless form, "more guests? That’s a fine boy there. Now, I’ve been living in places like this for some time, but you’re the first I’ve seen to have a fine boy like that come from the outside asking after him. You know, I wonder if you didn’t come here a little too soon."

"Tired," Kenshin muttered. "Not worth it."

"Now, I wouldn’t say that, exactly," Oibore continued. "I hear there are friends of yours waiting for you."

Kenshin coughed, grimacing in pain. Oibore took a good look at him. There were no more circles under his eyes, and his lips weren’t parched anymore, so at least he had overcome the dehydration. He felt Kenshin’s forehead—a slight fever, but not too bad, considering. The gash was oozing somewhat, but that was to be expected. He put his ear to Kenshin’s chest and heard only his stomach grumbling, but no problems with his lungs. These were all good signs, and a sign that he’d better whip up some food that a man as weak as Kenshin could eat.

So, he borrowed a knife from Kuma and started cutting up the fruit, vegetables, and tofu, then grabbed two flat stones and crushed the food into a kind of puree. Then he took his handkerchief and put some of the crushed food on it for Kenshin to suck. At first, Kenshin refused, turning his head away, but Oibore said sternly, "Young fellow, you don’t know it, but you’re too important to me for you not to eat this!" At that, Kenshin allowed the handkerchief into his mouth and swallowed the food.

Oibore continued this off and on all afternoon, being careful not to give Kenshin too much at one time. After awhile, he noticed that Kenshin actually seemed to look forward to eating; at least he wasn’t trying to turn away anymore. "You’re doing fine, young fellow," Oibore said quietly. "Your friends would be pleased if they knew." Kenshin seemed to relax a little at that.

Now it was close to dinnertime, so Oibore took his leave and brought his bag of goodies over to where Kuma and his friends were gathering for dinner.

"Fish, rice, and soba tonight!" Oibore sang out to them. "It’s my wonderful, marvelous, fantastic dinner, and there’s lots of it!"

"How’d you scavenge this kind of stuff, old man?" Kuma marveled. "You told us you’d show us up, and you sure did!"

"Oh, it’s just my beautiful face and wonderful personality that charms all the young women in town," Oibore laughed. He enjoyed himself immensely as the group traded tall tales around the cooking fire.

After the meal, Oibore settled himself back down next to Kenshin and started thinking over everything that had happened over the past few days. Kenshin was obviously in no condition—or mood—to talk, and certainly in no condition to be told who Oibore really was. Still he had found out a lot about his son-in-law, and what he found, he liked. It seemed that Kenshin had learned a lot during his 10 years of wandering. Hadn’t Megumi said that it was Kenshin who convinced her that atonement came from living her life to help others, not through killing herself? That was the lesson he had been taught by the young monk in Aizu so many years ago. And he had stayed true to his vow to Tomoe, to never kill again. ‘I’ll wield my sword for the weak and those who suffer, just like you did,’ Yahiko had said that afternoon. How hard had it been for Kenshin to overcome the killer within him in order to achieve this? "My son," Oibore whispered to Kenshin, "I’m proud of you."

Oibore awoke the next morning to find two violet eyes staring unsteadily at him. "Well, young man, you’re looking better," he said with a smile.

"Who…?" Kenshin tried to speak. "Who….are you?"

Oibore could have told him right then and there exactly who he was, but he was beginning to realize the wisdom of what Toshiro had told him when he returned to Kyoto--"This is something only you should do, in your own way and in your own time." This clearly wasn’t the right time. So he said, "I’m just an old man trying to help."

As he started preparing a puree of tofu and fruit for Kenshin, it occurred to him that he might never be able to come right out and tell Kenshin who he really was, but did that really matter? As long as he fulfilled his promise to Tomoe to look after her husband, then he would be satisfied. What else was a father—or a father-in-law—for, after all? But that didn’t mean he couldn’t drop some hints. ‘Time to get you thinking,’ Oibore decided.

"You know," he said conversationally to Kenshin as he scooped out some puree with a spoon, "farmers say they have the best job in the world. They say it’s because they don’t take life, they bring forth life. Pretty grandiose thinking, if you ask me." It was a quote he remembered from Tomoe’s diary. He looked sideways at Kenshin to see if there would be any reaction. He was not disappointed. He heard a small gasp and saw Kenshin squeeze his eyes closed.

"Tomoe," Kenshin whispered. Tears started to appear at the corners of his eyes.

After Kenshin had eaten, Oibore decided it was time to get him up and walking, preferably over to the water pipe for a quick shower. He started trying to lift him, but Kenshin didn’t want to move. Luckily, Kuma was walking by. He took Kenshin by one arm, and Oibore took him by the other.

"No!" Kenshin said in the strongest voice Oibore had yet heard. "No! I don’t want to move!"

"Hey, you’ve got to walk around, Red," said Kuma. "If you die here, with that gash and all, the police will think we did it!"

As the two men walked with the now compliant Kenshin, Oibore noticed several more things about his son-in-law. He was, indeed, very short—in fact, not much taller than his daughter had been—but his stature belied muscles that were rock-hard even after nearly a week of convalescence in less than ideal circumstances. Oibore knew that Kenshin must be about 28 years old, yet he looked much younger. And once they removed his gi for the shower, he saw the scars, evidence of too hard a life for a man so young. The water turned out to be very restorative, much to their consternation.

"Too cold!" Kenshin sputtered as they poured water over his head. He tried weakly to push them away. "No more! No more!"

Oibore and Kuma couldn’t help laughing. "Hey, Red, you wouldn’t say that if you could smell yourself!" Kuma chortled.

They could tell they had tired Kenshin out with the walk and the shower, so they brought him back to the wall to sleep. Oibore took up his fishing pole and, leaving Kenshin in the care of Kuma, went off to catch some free dinner. By the end of the day, Kenshin was able to walk a little unassisted, and he was more alert. "He’s been muttering names and things," Kuma reported to Oibore.

The next morning, Oibore decided he needed more information if he was going to be able to help Kenshin find his way back to life. So, close to lunchtime, he decided to drop by the Kamiya dojo. When he got there, no one was home, so he sat outside the gate to wait. About half an hour later, he heard voices.

"….and if I ever see another riverbank as long as I live, it’ll be too soon!" he heard Yahiko moan.

"Don’t be such a wimp," he heard Misao say as she whacked him on the head. "Kaoru’s alive, and we’ve got to find her!"

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Oibore.

"What are you doing here?" Yahiko asked coldly.

"Oh, just on my weekly begging rounds," Oibore laughed. "Give me something?"

As he hoped, they ended up inviting him in for a meal. ‘Kaoru alive?’ Oibore thought as he followed them into the house. ‘Did I hear that right?’ As they led him into the main room, he noticed on the table something familiar—Tomoe’s old, worn diary. ‘If only it had gotten to Enishi in time,’ he thought sadly.

The meal was simple, but it was really the small talk Oibore wanted anyway, and there was plenty of that. The ninja girl, in particular, seemed to talk nonstop about everything and nothing. As she and Yahiko took the dishes back to the kitchen, however, he overheard more of their conversation.

"I still can’t believe that fanatic Enishi used a doll to convince us Kaoru was dead," Misao was saying. "What kind of a creep is he, anyhow?"

Finally, Oibore took his leave and thanked them for their hospitality. Then he started walking back to Rakuninmura. Kaoru not dead? He needed to get Kenshin moving, and fast! As he passed the marketplace, he smelled perfumes from one of the shops and thought, ‘That’s it!’ He went in and, using the last of his money, purchased a bottle of white plum perfume.

When he returned to Rakuninmura, he saw Kenshin still sitting against the wall. Some men were standing around him, calling out, "Hey! Isn’t it about time you had a drink with us?" but they got no answer. Oibore walked over and started uncorking the perfume.

"Boy, that stinks!" one of the men said. The others started holding their noses.

"Take it away," Kenshin said faintly. "That scent….please, take it away…."

Oibore smiled. "White plum scent always brings back memories," he said, looking down at Kenshin. "So, it reminds you of something too? They say it has the power to soothe the heart. Why don’t you try to put up with it for awhile?"

It worked like a charm. As the day wore on, he could see Kenshin struggling with memories and could hear him call out names. From time to time, when the memories seemed to be too painful, he would go over and pat Kenshin’s hand. When the memories seemed to be too physically intense, he would wipe Kenshin’s brow. After awhile, Kenshin slumped over, exhausted from the mental exertion.

It was the following day that Kenshin finally awoke from his nightmare. Oibore could see that Kenshin’s mind was churning, that he was struggling with himself over things that had happened in the past, when suddenly there was a commotion again at the entrance to Rakuninmura. It was the young girl who had accompanied Megumi that first time.

"Go home," one of the men was yelling at her. "You deaf, little girl? This is no place for outsiders!"

The girl barely managed to say, "Kenshin…."

"What, the new guy? You wasted a trip. There’s nothing left of him. He’s hollow."

Kuma came to her rescue. "Guess the samurai gets another guest," he said gently, and he took her to where Kenshin lay.

"Kenshin?" she said tentatively, but there was no response.

"Kenshin, please!" She started to cry. "One of the men they arrested last week got out and started attacking people. Yahiko’s fighting him to keep him from reaching the city, but he’s still not completely healed from before, and the other man is too strong and too big. Oh, Kenshin, please! Please help him!"

When there was still no response, Oibore patted her on the shoulder and said, "That’s enough, little one," and asked Kuma to show her out. Then he sat down next to Kenshin and said, "Now, what was that all about?" He saw Kenshin grip his sword.

"I told them to leave me alone," Kenshin said, in a voice that was stronger than it had been. "I told them I was tired. I told them. It’s no use. I can’t find the answer—how to atone for the crimes I committed as a hitokiri. I can’t find it!"

"Is that so," Oibore retorted. "Even with your weak, confused heart, isn’t there one thing you won’t let yourself throw away? Whatever anyone says, that’s your only truth!" He picked up the bottle of white plum perfume and closed it. "I think we’ve had enough of the past. Now it’s time for you to return to the people who never stopped believing in you. They’re waiting for you!"

He watched Kenshin for what seemed like an eternity. There seemed to be a battle taking place in Kenshin’s mind, a battle he could see played out on his face. Suddenly, Kenshin grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it free, breaking the chains that held it. He looked as if he had just awakened from a trance. In a burst of energy that seemed to come from nowhere, he rose to his feet and glanced around. Then he was gone.

Oibore wept softly as he watched Kenshin disappear around a corner. "I’m sorry, Kuma," he sniffled as he apologized for the tears. "I guess I’m just an old softy."

Kuma came and put his arm around Oibore’s shoulder. After a moment, Kuma asked, "So how come that rooster-headed guy came talking about revenge and got nothing?"

Oibore thought for a moment. "That wasn’t his truth," he finally answered. "They couldn’t reach his heart that way. But if someone came asking for help, no matter how small, they’d reach him. That was his truth."

Then he dried his eyes and said, "Well, Kuma, my job here is done. I think I’ll go wander back to Kyoto. I might be back, I might not." And with that, he packed up his few belongings and left. Slowly he walked the long distance to the Yokohama station, where his return train ticket was waiting.

He didn’t remember much about the train ride home. He was so tired out from his time with Kenshin that he slept the entire way. It was evening when he got back to Kyoto, so he headed straight for his room, ate some leftover food, and went right to sleep.

The next morning, however, he was off as soon as possible to the monastery—he had so much to tell Toshiro! Along the way, he picked some flowers, which he put on Tomoe’s grave. Unlike his last return from Tokyo, this time his heart felt light. He had finally gotten to meet his son-in-law and had helped him in his hour of need. ‘I hope he finds his Kaoru,’ he thought. ‘If she is indeed alive, I hope she brings him the happiness he deserves.’ He realized that probably he would never meet Kenshin again, and that probably Kenshin would never know who he really was, but that was okay. Kenshin had had enough of the past—it was time for him to live for the future.

As he was thinking about this, he absent-mindedly started fiddling with his hair and realized he was still wearing Tomoe’s hairpin. ‘Time to return this to you, dear daughter,’ he decided, and he placed it at the foot of the gravestone.

It was only a week after his return that he heard the news through Ko—the police in Tokyo had nabbed an illegal arms dealer named Yukishiro Enishi, but he had escaped and was presumed to be in the Tokyo area.

"It’s your son," Ko said. "I know he’s done a lot of really terrible things, but if you think you should go to Tokyo to find him…."

Oibore wasn’t sure what to think. "You know, Ko, I’m an old man, and I’m tired. I don’t know what to do. I certainly can’t face walking that Tokaido Road, and I’ve used up all my money…."

Ko handed him a packet. "Open it," he commanded.

In it was enough money for a round-trip train ticket. "You’ve been a great friend to me all these years," Ko said. "There’s not many who can put up with all my talk and bluster, but you’ve been like a brother. Take it. Just let me know when you get back, because I want to be the first with the news!"

Oibore didn’t know what to say. He hugged his friend, then left to make the arrangements. He stopped by to see Toshiro as well, for moral support. The next day, he was back in Tokyo and on his way to the only place he could afford to stay—Rakuninmura. ‘I wonder what Kuma will think when he sees me again,’ he thought, smiling.

As he rounded the corner towards Rakuninmura, he started singing as usual, "Oh, well, what the hell…. Oh, well, what the hell…," then stopped dead in his tracks. Just inside the entrance sat a dirty, bloodstained young man with white hair and glasses. In his hand was a small black book—a diary that Oibore recognized instantly. He sat himself down next to the man.

"New here, eh, youngster?" he said with a smile. "You know, I wonder if we haven’t met before…."

The End