Genre

Rating

Spoiler Level

The Courtship of Lady Tokio

by Misaki Toyodome

Chapter 17 - Bells and Foreign Intrigue

As soon as Hijikata and Tokio arrived back at Mibu, he ordered a maid to go find her clean clothes and to prepare a bath. The maid, bleary-eyed but obedient, scurried off to prepare the bathhouse - for a proper lady, a full tub and lots of firewood would be required. In the meantime, he sat with her in the guest room, regarding her through cold, calculating eyes, while she kneeled, her head slightly bowed. She was unfazed by his scrutiny, he could tell that much. In fact, for all her modesty and good manners, he was sure that there was some measure of passive resistance in her compliance. He frowned. For one thing, he mistrusted aristocrats. They always seemed to assume that superiority was a birthright. And for another, he found her presence unsettling – for some reason, he got the sense that she knew something more than him, and the feeling did not agree with him. His left nostril twitched. Well, if she did – he would get it out of her. He had quite the knack for hitting people's weak points, and he knew just how to hit hers.

In Fushimi, a few people were still lingering outside the burnt down warehouse, speculating about the cause, and wondering how young master Sekiguchi would take it once he came back from his trip to Osaka. Saitou and Okita gave the groups a wide berth and skirted through the deserted side streets.

"Excuse me," a soft voice called out. They whirled around, swords ready to be drawn: it was the girl, Aki, standing in a narrow doorway and beckoning to them. Saitou gave a slight bow, and Okita looked curious.

"The Shinsengumi thank you for your help in this matter." Such a matter of fact voice – who would have guessed the anguish that had passed over him not even an hour ago?

"I am only doing my job, and yours is not over yet." She stepped closer. "The men, they are a group of eleven, they are meeting at the old shrine, about thirty minutes along the west road out of town. They seemed quite happy with themselves. I doubt they know of the explosion." She paused. Her eyes widened a little. "You did manage to get there on time, didn't you?"

"Yes, she should be back in Kyoto," Okita replied, seeming to have grasped her role in the situation. "What's the temple like?" It would not do to walk unprepared into an enemy base.

"Old, just one large room. The problem is the dark, that there are no lights. No lanterns, no lamps, no candles."

Saitou and Okita looked at each other. They would need to have some way of coordinating their movements in the darkness, to make sure that they did not get in each others' way.

"Hmmm, if only one of us had a bell or something." Okita stroked his chin.

Saitou frowned slightly in concentration – noise would actually be a good way of telling someone's position, and the other would simply have to stay out of the range of attack then. It had the added bonus of luring the enemy to the source of noise so that the other could act in silence and stealth.

"A bell or something..." Okita repeated thoughtfully. Just at that moment, a fat black cat came stealing out of the shadows. Okita beamed in delight.

"Say 'miaow', Saitou-san!" The smiling young man picked the cat up, its collar making a sweet tinkling sound as it dangled slouchily from Okita's arms.

Okita's brainwave registered with Saitou, and prompted a disdainful sneer.

"Not in your life-time, not even in the nine of your flea-bitten friend."

"You have nine lives, Saitou-san?"

"So, you never saw your assailants, and you escaped by blowing up the warehouse they had locked you in. And then Saitou found you."

Tokio bowed politely to Hijikata, her hands placed neatly in front of her. She had bathed and changed into clean garments. It was a simple, common kosode, but for that reason, it seemed to emphasise her delicate manner and bearing all the more. Yes, Hijikata would admit, she was quite beautiful, if in an understated way.

"Of course, if I had known that Saitou-sama was on his way to find me, then I would have saved myself the trouble." She smiled wryly.

Hijikata did not take his stern gaze off her. She remained unperturbed, calm and composed. Hijikata felt the urge to crack that sense of self-possession.

"Saitou... You are acquainted with Saitou-kun?"

An easy blow, but she simply bowed her head.

"I have had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, and I am most grateful for all that he has done for me, my family and Aizu." She looked up. "I am most grateful to all the Shinsengumi, for that matter. They have shown themselves to be invaluable allies."

"The Shinsengumi are honoured to be in the service of Aizu." Hijikata sneered inwardly – these aristocrats and their obsessions with etiquette. "But we do not operate just for the interests of Aizu."

"Of course not. We do this for Japan."

She replied, not even batting an eyelash at the perceived bite of his comment.

"But you do believe, that operating under the service of Aizu is what is best for Japan, do you not?"

Blow and parry.

"I believe in my Lord because he is doing his best for Japan. His decisions, his actions, his ideas – he is doing his best." Her voice was subtle and strong.

"And other people aren't trying their best for Japan." He said sardonically. She looked at him quizzically.

"History will decide what is best for Japan. But I can say this: my Lord has ideals, ideals of loyalty, of courage, of the glory of Japan. He has seen the harsh reality of the situation, and he is committed to the task appointed to him."

"But even if he believes himself to be acting for what's right, he could be wrong." Hijikata sounded harsh and critical.

"It is not about gaining more power for himself. Look at those who would undermine him. They claim to have ideals, and yet, I can't reconcile them. I don't believe that Choushuu are acting for the greater good. I believe that they are motivated by close-minded fears, and also by a lust for power. They blame the Bakufu for the Arrival of the Black Ships. I admit, their opinions are probably more popular," here she smiled ruefully, "but sometimes, popular opinion, and in particular uninformed popular opinion, can be wrong."

Hijikata raised his eyebrows, and she flushed just noticeably in the dim light.

"I apologise, I know I talk too much. I beg your pardon."

"Tokio-san, I take it then that you are an advocate of 'kaikoku', and you think that the "joui" faction is uninformed." He said this spitefully – after all, the Shinsengumi themselves claimed sonnou joui.

"If by that, you're implying that I want Japan to be invaded, of course not. No, I simply want peace, and trying to provoke war with the foreign nations is not in our best interests." She looked up at him, and said in a steady voice, "If Japan goes to war, we will lose."

Hijikata frowned.

"I have faith in the warriors of Japan, and they would fight to the very last man in such an event."

"And to fight to the very last man would mean absolutely nothing." Her voice was soft but the look in her eyes was adamant. "They who say that Japan is invincible are either uninformed or in denial. If you had any notion about the military strength of America or the British..." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes seemed to focus on some distant point.

"No honourable Japanese man would bow his head to a barbarian. And better Death than surrender." Hijikata's voice rose with emotion. This slip of a girl, whose family claimed to be more Samurai than he by sheer virtue of birth, where was her sense of Samurai pride? He could hardly believe that he was hearing such things. If these were the type of people supporting the Shogunate, then no wonder that Choushuu were so popular! That she would talk about selling out the nation, of betraying her people! Were all aristocrats so cowardly that they would tremble not with excitement but fear at the thought of a real war?

"... I wonder, is it so shameful to learn something new? To learn of new ways, new sciences, even new weapons?" She murmured in a soft voice, but her eyes glinted like steel. "Or is it more shameful to live, and die, in ignorance?"

He snorted in annoyance: who was she to question him? A mere girl – who obviously assumed that she knew more than him. Insufferable, really.

"I apologise, I do not mean any disrespect." That practiced look of genuine concern. It was enough to give him indigestion. "But I do believe that in the long run, we will benefit more by learning about the foreigners first than to try and repel them."

"Hah! And the more the Bakufu continue to say such things, the more people will turn to Choushuu as the real champions of Japan."

"Choushuu are doomed." She said this so assuredly, so steadily, that he was taken aback by her directness. She met his eyes again, and continued. "Choushuu are doomed. In a few days, the British naval fleet will launch a campaign in retaliation to Choushuu edicts issued last year. The edicts officially announced Choushuu's commitment to eliminate all foreigners on Japanese soil, and to continue a policy of isolation. The foreign powers approaching the Bakufu considered it an affront and an insult. They will see to it that Choushuu are taught a lesson. The naval fleet will most likely attack, with devastating consequences for the already weakened Choushuu forces."

"So, we're just going to let the barbarians do what we have been working towards all this time." Hijikata fixed her with an icy glare.

"Hijikata-sama, the Shinsengumi's role is not necessarily to eradicate Choushuu, but to ensure the protection of Kyoto." Her manner was mild, but the reproach was infuriating. Hijikata balled his hand into a fist to keep himself from throwing his tea at her. As though she realised that she had overstepped the mark, she hastily added, "I apologise if I have been too forward. I have been told that garrulity is unbecoming, and I am trying to break the habit."

He continued to stare at her as she bowed her head. She bowed her head, and they stayed still like that for what seemed a long while. Hijikata's mind raced as he processed the new information that she had just revealed.

"... So, what then for Choushuu?"

She did not lift her head, but kept her eyes demurely on the floor.

"... I believe Choushuu will come to see what the Bakufu have reluctantly accepted. That we cannot turn away these foreign powers by waging war. We must learn about them first, and we must use that knowledge to make Japan stronger. Only then, only then can Japan take her place alongside such nations as Britain and America, France and Germany."

"What you're saying is that we should learn from them, and then we will have the power to withstand them."

"Yes... And it is not only about warfare. Western medicine is much more advanced than ours, and..." Her voice trailed off.

"And?" He demanded severely.

"... And they have such exquisite artworks, and music..."

"They have Art?" Hijikata was surprised. Those lumbering big men seemed too clumsy for Art.

"They have Art," she affirmed quietly.

"Even poetry?"

She raised her head slightly.

"I believe they do, although I do not know their languages."

"I wonder... Do they have Haiku?"

"I do not know... You enjoy Haiku?"

"Yes. Why, do you?"

"My first love was Basho's moon." She smiled delightfully, delightedly.

"If I hadn't become a swordsman, I would have become a poet."

"To be a swordsman is to live poetry though, do you not think?"

"You think so too?"

"Yes, I think so."

Hijikata caught himself, suddenly self-conscious of the direction the conversation had taken. She seemed to notice, and quickly bowed her head again. He cleared his throat.

"Choushuu then, what becomes of them? Do they fall back in line with the Bakufu, having accepted their decisions?"

She paused, and considered her words.

"... No." She looked up through her lowered lashes. "This is simply my estimation, but no. If they manage to survive at all, oh, they will see that it is not possible to withstand the foreign powers, but they have already diverged too far from the Tokugawa Shogunate."

A shiver ran up Hijikata's spine.

"You're suggesting that there will be a war." So that's what she meant by Choushuu being motivated by a wont for power.

"... I really cannot say... If they survive at all... They will try. They will want to seize power for themselves. They will couch it in idealistic terms and claim that their way is the true way for Japan's future. The general masses, as uninformed as they are, will be motivated by one thing, and that is their resentment against the Bakufu for their kaikoku policy. They will not perceive that Choushuu will begin embracing the foreign powers, and foreign technology, in order to defeat the Bakufu. Ultimately,the only course of action will be to gradually open the land to trade and exchange. Either way, both sides will shout joui, and both sides will be lying. There will be war."

She said this very quietly but clearly.

"Unless of course these British annihilate the damned lot." His voice was low and dry.

She looked up at him again.

"I do not necessarily wish for these men to die at the hands of foreigners."

Hijikata eyed her again.

"What, do you wish them rather to die at the hands of men like me, or Saitou?" He saw that she nearly flinched. "After all, that is what Saitou is doing at the moment, isn't he? Wreaking revenge on those who dared harm the precious lady of Aizu?"

"I am sure that Saitou-sama knows the difference between revenge and justice." A soft murmur.

"But you do want these men to die." He was taunting her maliciously.

"All I wish for is peace."

"That is not all that you wish for, Tokio-san."

"... That is all that I have a right to wish for."

He almost relented, seeing the stricken look on her face. Almost. He tried a different tack.

"You write very well. It's little wonder that Matsudaira-kou employs you as his scribe." She blanched but tried to conceal it. "Though even one who's peasant-born like myself knows that it might be considered a trifle forward for a young lady of your rank, engaged to be married, to be writing such letters to a lowly young man, fine man though Saitou is."

Nothing. An impassive wall went up, and her features were as expressionless as stone.

"How fortunate of Saitou, he must be the envy of all the young men who have met you. And yet, how unfortunate, these circumstances being what they are."

As expressionless as stone but as readable as a book.

"What would Lord Matsudaira have to say? And your family? Or your betrothed?" His look was one of mock sympathy, and hers was one of hidden revolt.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Lady Tokio?" Hijikata, the mock gallant. Hijikata reveled in having broken through her soft-spoken shell, her mild-mannered walls.

"... It seems that I have nothing to say. You know all there is to know." He saw her restrained sorrow, and he felt slightly ashamed of his intrusion into the private chambers of her heart. "I apologise most sincerely if anyone should think my behaviour was an affront to the Shinsengumi..." Sincerity – she was being sincere, and he was not. She looked up at him again, and then, a gleam of insight quietly stole into her gaze. Hijikata, for the first time in a long while, felt the discomfort of pitying acknowledgement. She knew, and he knew that she knew, that he felt inclined to pursue the topic because of his innate preconceptions of her priviledged background. Such a shallow reason, and such a low blow. Also, she understood now, and he knew that she understood, that it was also due to the simple fact that Hijikata was a man whose chipped shoulders caused him difficulties at times. And with that, she dismissed him and his taunts with the most humble bow she had given yet.

"I thank you for all your hospitality and your kindness, Sir. I realise that it must have been a long night for you, and I hope that you will have a good rest after this."

And Hijikata was left to deal with the nasty aftertaste of his baiting, as she retreated to the back of her mind.

"Damn, how much longer are we going to have to wait for word from Katsura-san?"

"I still don't know why we weren't allowed to have our way with her before. We could have made her squeal in that well-mannered voice of hers."

"Idiot, that would have undermined the 'political' motives of our actions, how many times do we have to tell you?"

"The purpose of this mission is to ransom her, and also to get as much information out of her as possible."

"Then why the hell aren't we interrogating her already? And how much are we gonna demand?"

"How many times do we have to go over this,we don't act without Katsura-san's orders."

"And how many times will I have to tell you that you'll never get another chance with the Flower of Aizu."

"Tora, you're to check on her next, get ready to head back."

"Miaow."

"Hahaha! The Flower of Aizu! Hah! See how Aizu and Satsuma take that!"

"Ssshhh! I thought I heard something."

"Aizu! Hah! That'll teach them to underestimate us."

"Miaow."

"Oh, it's just a cat."

The other men turned around as a spray of warm liquid hit their faces, and the soft trinkle of bells rang out in the night air. They could barely make out in the dim light the figure of one of their companions slouched face down onto the floor.

"Hey, get up Nezumi!"

As the man nearest to the toppled moved to shake him, a sword slid silently through the paper shoji and pierced his throat. As it withdrew, he slumped, making bubbling and gurgling noises as the blood gushed out of the wound.

"Who's there!"

The men sprang to their feet, swords held high, the odd eye catching a stray light, alert and terrified. They smashed open the doors, the moonlight streamed into the dank and musty room, and there was the silhouette of a slight figure, flicking the blood off his sword, and the accompanying jingle of a bell.

One of the men charged at him with a mighty yell, and was promptly cut down. In the dark, it was hard to make out the intruder's exact movements.

"Well, at least that showed more courage than kidnapping an unarmed girl and trying to torture her." The merry voice grated on the men's ears.

"Everyone get him now!"

"No! Stop! We risk killing each other in this dark! Light a lamp!" The group shouted at each other as Okita advanced further into the gloom of the room.

"Come now, four against one should even the odds slightly in your favour."

Four? The thought crossed the calmer men's minds – there were eleven of them to begin with, and now there were only four? "Oh well. Make that three now."

As one of them turned wildly around in panic, he saw a tall shadow moving in the dark, before his head was detached from his shoulders and fell with a dull thud at the foot of one his remaining companions. He kicked it away in fright, and didn't even see Okita's sword flash as it advanced.

"Hmm, only one left. Well, I say we should take you back to headquarters."

A match flared in the dark and a lantern was lit. Squinting at the sudden brightness, the man known as Saru saw a sword being held to his throat, and the man holding it. A handsome youth, a boy rather, whose gently smiling face seemed bizarre in the carnage of the room, and for some reason, a bell on a collar around his slim neck.

"Or we could just hog-tie him and leave him with only a candle and explosives for company."

Saru's eyes shifted to the side, and he saw another man, a terrible figure with his gaunt figure and cruel eyes, holding the lantern. He almost wimpered – but Saitou knocked him out cold with the hilt of his sword.