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The Courtship of Lady Tokio

by Misaki Toyodome

Chapter 9 - Politics and Mismatches

27th April 1864 –

Saitou carefully unwrapped the carefully folded papers. It was Tokio's writing. Since last December, it had become a hand that he would never fail to recognise. Not that it would have been a problem – it had quite a distinct style. Over a month had passed since the last time he had received news from her. He frowned. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he had been worried about why she had not written, and now that a letter had arrived, he felt relieved. He started to read.

10th April 1864 –

Saitou-sama,

It is my immense regret to inform you that due to circumstances beyond my control, I must refrain from corresponding with you for the foreseeable future. While I understand that it might be a relief for you not to be pestered by me any longer, I assure you that I will miss being able to tell you my thoughts and to confide in you. There is nothing as reassuring as a silent correspondent to keep your secrets for you, and I trust you. It was around this time last year that I first spoke to you, I recall, and I pray that this letter may not be the last you hear from me. However, for now... I assure you that this is in no way due to any trouble over any matter regarding yourself. Thank you so much for everything, and as always, you have my best wishes. Please take care of yourself, and even though you don't hear from me, I shall still be asking after you, so please remember that I would be greatly distressed if I were to hear that you had taken ill or been wounded. (And please don't be awkward and hurt yourself deliberately for want of distressing me.) And please, remember me. Remember me fondly and smile.

Yours, as ever, Takagi Tokio.

Saitou stood there as those words sank in, not moving, not really registering the movements of the world around him.'Fool of a woman, what on earth is she talking about?'It was obvious – she would not be writing to him anymore. But why? It bothered him, it bothered him more than he would care to admit, and it bothered him that it should bother him. Something had happened. Something that had made her rethink communicating with him. Something to make her stop writing her rambling letters. 'Remember me fondly and smile.' The image of her smile rose in his mind – she smiled a lot, sometimes wistfully, sometimes merrily, and always heart-wrenchingly. Saitou Hajime, at the age of nineteen, had faced for the first time an unnameable disruption to his usually implacable self. Saitou Hajime, at the age of twenty, now struggled as he tried to remember whether there was a word for the vacant space he felt inside of him which he had never felt before. He couldn't recall. Perhaps people had yet to invent a word for such an unsettling feeling...

11th May 1864 –

It had been a long time since Saitou had been at the Aizu headquarters of Koumyouji temple. He had no official reason to go, and even less so unofficial ones after Tokio had left for Edo. The last time, they had been there to pay their respects for the New Year. Now, it was May, and it was strange to think that it had been over a year since they had performed their demonstration. He entered the inner courtyard, and half expected to hear the twang of an arrow being fired. He could remember that day so clearly. He was there today as part of the escort for Kondou's appointment with the Aizu-kou. Kondou liked to bring along different people each time for his monthly meetings, and this time it was Saitou and Takeda Kanryuusai. He grimaced in annoyance. Takeda was one of the people he really didn't have much time for as opposed to the many people he preferred not to make time for: a pretentious, affected, pompous no-nothing know-it-all. Even today, Takeda was over-stepping the bounds of good manners and without any regard for the situation kept interrupting Kondou's and Matsudaira-kou's discussion.

"If I may, Kondou-sensei,""with your permission my Lord," he piped up again and again without being asked. Not that Kondou and Matsudaira-kou seemed to mind – they had more patience and tolerant than Saitou, that was certain. Takeda was declaiming some obscure theory of military tactics now. Saitou had barely opened his mouth throughout the discussions.

"Actually, Matsudaira-sama, if I had some paper and ink at my disposal, I could illustrate this more clearly" Takeda was saying. Matsudaira Katamori, ever the obliging master and host, nodded his head.

"I'm sure that any one of my retainers will be happy to find some." He moved to call somebody but before he did so, Saitou rose swiftly to his feet.

"Matsudaira-sama, I'll see to it." He had been stuck in this room for nearly two hours now, and he felt that he needed a change of air, as well as a break from Takeda's lectures.

Outside, there was a flurry of activity by the main gates. He found a servant girl and asked her for the writing implements. She seemed flustered when she returned a few minutes later.

"I am so sorry sir that I took so long. It's just that a company arrived from Edo only a while ago, and I had not seen my lady for so long, so I stopped to greet her."

He narrowed his eyes. 'A lady arrive from Edo.' The servant girl paled – she had mistaken the glare as a reproach, and it was common sense in Kyoto in those days not to want to raise the ire of the Shinsengumi.

"My apologies sir! It is just that my Lady Takagi called out to me, and seeing her again after so many months..."

"There is no need to apologise." Saitou turned around, after bowing briefly by way of thanks,and walked quickly back to the room. 'Takagi Tokio is back in Kyoto.' He handed the things to Takeda, bowed to Kondou and Matsudaira, and stated,

"There is a company just arrived from Edo in the courtyard, and it appears that they could use a hand arranging their effects. I offered to help, although if it would be better for me to stay here..."

"No, no, that won't be necessary, run along Saitou-kun." Takeda dismissed him curtly. Saitou, ignoring him, was looking at Kondou. Kondou hesitated, nodded, and then turned to Matsudaira.

"If it is alright with you, Matsudaira-sama, then I am sure that Saitou-kun will be glad to offer his assistance to your guests."

"They'll be much obliged, Saitou, I am sure that Ono's party has a lot of luggage that they could use help with. Thank you." Matsudaira nodded at Saitou.

With that, Saitou left the room again. As he turned the corner, he could here the bustle of the unpacking underway -

"It's alright, Ojou-sama, it's not too heavy, so please don't worry! Ooof!"

And a man turning the corner at the same time nearly collided with Saitou, and lost his balance. Saitou caught the large box before it fell.

"Kichi-san, are you alright? Oh dear..." It was a familiar, unforgettable voice. Saitou's eyes met the deep, deep brown gaze of Takagi Tokio. And held it. And held it some more.

"Sir, I apologise for my clumsiness... If I may take the box now?" The man called Kichi was addressing Saitou.

Still looking at Tokio, Saitou simply said,

"It's alright, it is quite heavy, and I can manage it." Saitou looked down at Kichi, whose misgivings were obvious. "And I'm sure the lady would prefer that her things were unbroken by men who try to carry more than they can handle," he added tauntingly. Tokio was trying to hide a small smile. If Saitou had surrendered to his honest emotions then, he would have recognised that he had missed her smile. And maybe he did surrender. One never could tell with Saitou Hajime.

"How was your trip from Edo, Takagi-san" Saitou asked as the side gate slid open.

Tokio gave a small start – she had been expecting to see him tonight, but he had been hidden in the shadows. She smiled at him, and bowed.

"Saitou-sama, it has been a while." She closed the gate. "The trip was fine, albeit I didn't get to travel the Toukaidou. But I couldn't travel on my own, and Ono-sama very kindly offered me a place with his company."

It had been so long since she had been in Kyoto, but very little had changed. She sighed with pleasure – her first night of freedom in over five months. When she had arrived back at Koumyouji earlier that day, she had been very surprised to see Saitou there. Of all the people to greet her upon her return, it had to be him. But seeing as how there were so many people around, and how it was broad daylight, they had not been able to exchange more than the barest greetings, even while he had helped her unload her luggage. And then, after he had moved her belongings, the other men of the company had roped him into carrying their cases as well. By the time he had carried the last box, Kondou was calling for him to return to Mibu. So, a tacit agreement had passed between them, and... Here they were. Again. On a mild, moon bright night of early summer, outside the walls of Koumyouji. She had switched her monk's garb for a servant girl's kosode. And they both were at a loss for words as to how to begin talking to each other.

"...Thank you very much for your assistance today." Tokio ventured in a quiet murmur as they started walking.

"Hmph." Saitou snorted. "What were in those boxes anyway?" They had been heavy for their size.

"Books."

"What, are there not enough scrolls and texts at Koumyouji?"

"Saitou-sama..." She seemed a bit bemused and a bit bothered.

"Well, you do make a very unconvincing monk."

"I disguise myself better as a woman, you said. So here I am, disguised."

"And what assurance did you have that I'd be here?" He raised a brow.

"What assurance did you have that I'd be here then?" She countered.

"Frankly, I am surprised that you are here tonight." The conversation had moved quickly to the topic that both had been trying to broach. "After all, you did decide to cut off contact." Saitou's tone of voice was even and calm and a little wry, belying the coiling feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Saitou-sama, I am sorry, and you really must believe me when I say that."

"You shouldn't be out tonight." Saitou cut her off.

"Perhaps, but - "

"No buts." He snapped at her, more harshly than he had intended.

Tokio bit her lower lip, and with a downcast gaze, murmured,

"It really wasn't something I wanted to do, to stop writing..."

"Don't get me wrong, Takagi-san, I really couldn't care less what you decide to do. But since you put me to such trouble," he snorted in annoyance, "since you do put me to such trouble, I expect that there be a good reason." He had lied – he had cared more than he wished to acknowledge when she had stopped writing. She looked up at him. He wrenched his eyes away as though he had seen something he regretted - her regret.

"Saitou-sama, I am arranged to be married..." Her tone was low but very clear.

It seemed as though everything around them had fallen silent at that moment. Saitou, registering what she had said, turned to look at her again, but had nothing to say.

"I am arranged to be married to a Lord of Satsuma. A son of the Saigou family. I stopped writing because it would have been highly inappropriate of me to keep writing to you... If it were merely my honour that were in question, I assure you that I would not have denied myself the pleasure of writing to you... But now, I must act accordingly as a lady of the Saigou family..." She smiled such a sorrowful little smile. "I have had to forgo many of my old habits since it was organised. It is not ladylike to have calluses, I was reprimanded."

"... This was arranged in April?" Saitou did not trust himself to speak too much then. She nodded.

"There had been talk before, but I had always managed to deter it. But this time... Aizu is struggling. There is too much political strife, and its position here in Kyoto is so important. If a formal alliance could be established between Aizu and Satsuma, then there really would be no challenge to Aizu's mission here. Choushuu would not be able to wreak so much havoc. And I... and I will marry for the better good. I am to meet my future husband here at Koumyouji next month, and after the ceremony, I will move to the Satsuma headquarters here in Kyoto."

"And you are happy?" Saitou looked into the night, as though trying to focus on some distant point.

"What does happiness matter? ... If a union between Satsuma and Aizu is a step towards political stability and peace, and if my marriage is symbolic of that union... What else should I do? What else could I do? I am only a woman. What right do I have to happiness while my people must live in fear? ... We do what we can, as you said, Saitou-sama."

Tokio bowed her head and was silent. Presently, she murmured.

"Saitou-sama, I apologise if this news unsettles you. Please, do not feel concern for my sake. I promise you that this will be for the best..."

"... Are you asking me not to care?" His voice was steady, but when Tokio looked up, she saw in his eyes what might have been a struggle to control himself.

"... I did not think you would mind too much, to be honest. You never said... You never replied to my letters..."

"Should I have replied, Tokio-san? What should I have said? Go on, tell me."

An understanding of sorts had been established between them. This was not the time for bashful comments or fake indifference.

"... You could have said thank you. 'Thank you for the letters.' You could have asked me to keep writing, though you had nothing else to say..."

"I didn't ask you to stop writing. Wasn't that worth something?"

Such a droll voice, but he was looking at her intently, and this time it was she who would not meet his gaze.

"It was, for a while. But then circumstances changed. I would have kept writing, except that circumstances changed..." Her voice trailed into a low murmur.

"Here." He withdrew a sheaf of papers from his sleeves. Tokio accepted them, and inclined her head. She looked at him inquiringly, and then unfolded them. All that was written on them were dates, and her name. Different dates on the different sheets, and her name. "I did think to reply, you know... But what should I have said?"

They stood on the banks of the river, as before, and to all other eyes would have seemed content in their silence. They were, in a sense, as they did not have the words to explain, to describe, to plead, to petition, to forgive, to accept. Tokio, by sheer virtue of being Tokio, had seen the true essence of Saitou, beyond the cruel wit, beyond the detachment, beyond the superior attitude, and had seen him. Tokio had been honest with him. She had trusted him. She had respected him, and he had respected her. He had understood her. And she had cared about him. Saitou, try as he might, could not deny this. Although at the moment, he was wishing that he could. Wanting to go back to that first encounter but this time wanting to not notice her, not to walk with her, not to talk with her, not to go down to the river together and watch the cruise boats swing their coloured lanterns and cast a procession of lights onto the rippling water.

"Saitou-sama, I truly am sorry."

"What for, Tokio-san? I didn't realize that you had done anything wrong."

"No, perhaps not, but I am sorry for myself."

Saitou looked at Tokio with an expression that had never graced his face before. He sighed inaudibly.

"Tokio-san, things happen as they should." Tokio shut her eyes tightly closed. Saitou continued in an even voice, though he was not used to having to struggle to keep it so. "And you are an honourable woman."

"... And you are a good man."

"I wish you the best for the future."

"Thank you."

"... They're only little tears, Tokio-san, let them spill."