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The Choshu Chronicles: Chapter Fifteen

by Omasu Oniwabanshi ::: 29.Jan.2005

It was February, 1866. Kenshin was glad to be back in Choshu. Kyoto had been disturbing in many ways. In Choshu he could concentrate on being a bodyguard and nothing else.

The innkeeper and his wife welcomed them back, despite the fact that their re-addition to the household increased their workload again.

One afternoon as Kenshin sat on the porch, sheathed sword across his knees, watching Tama and Sota play in the courtyard, a young girl came to the gate. She opened it hesitantly and stood on the threshold.

Tama immediately marched over. “Welcome to our Ryoken.” She said, bowing smartly, very much the self-important innkeeper.

“Oh! Thank you very much.” The older girl bowed back distractedly, her eyes darting around the courtyard as she stood up straight. “Um. Is Mr. Nakamura here?”

Kenshin rose to his feet at the sound of the girl’s voice, and took a closer look at her. She was wearing a dark blue kimono with small white flowers printed on it. It was the maidservant he’d first seen with Nakamura.

“Why?” Tama asked.

“I’m sorry. I should have said before. I have a message for him.”

“Well, he hasn’t come in yet.” Tama stared at the older girl challengingly.

“I’m sorry.” The maidservant said again, sounding near tears.

“She can wait for him here.” Kenshin called out, surprising himself. He sat back down on the floorboards, setting his sword down at his side.

Tama led the girl over and watched critically as she climbed the steps and sat down by Kenshin. At this point Sota, who’d fallen flat on his face, began to wail, and Tama reluctantly left to tend to him, his wails growing fainter as she led him inside.

The maidservant stared at the gate as if doing so could make Nakamura appear. She was valiantly fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Not really knowing what else to do, Kenshin decided to speak. “What’s your name?”

The little girl glanced at him and sniffed. “Midori, sir.” She stared at him for a while then asked, “What’s your name?”

“Himura, Kenshin Himura.”

She stared at him a while longer. Her brow crinkled. “Have we met before?”

So she didn’t recognize him from the time he’d carried the water for her back to the house of Nakamura’s concubine. Yet something about him was bothering her. “No, I saw you on the docks when you delivered a message to Nakamura.”

“Oh. That must be it.” She said softly. “I remember. I had to travel so far to reach Mr. Nakamura. My mistress, Tamako, was sick. She’s sick again, and I must let Mr. Nakamura know.”

“Mmm.” Kenshin replied noncommittally. She didn’t say anything about the nature of their relationship, and he didn’t want to say anything that would reveal that he already knew it.

The girl pulled on the hair by her ears, absentmindedly tugging strands out of the low ponytail at the back of her neck. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t come soon.” She sounded about to cry again.

Kenshin stood, and looked over the gate. It was as he thought, the mutter of voices coming along the street belonged to Nakamura and his sidekick, Takahata. He could see the tops of their heads over the fence.

“He’s coming.” he told the girl, nodding at the gate.

She sprang to her feet. “Oh thank you! Everyone here is so nice in this city! Thank you for talking to me and keeping me company.” She shot him a smile and ran down the steps.

By the time Nakamura reached the gate, she was there to greet him. He took the note she pulled from her kimono, but didn’t bother to read it, bending slightly to listen to what she had to say.

Nakamura swore, and gestured to the girl to follow as he and Takahata turned and went back down the street the way they’d come.

Alone now, the courtyard deserted, Kenshin lifted his gaze above the gated fence separating the courtyard from the street. Across the city, set against the maple and cherry trees which studded mountains, the spire of Rurikoji Temple was visible.

Kenshin never visited. Temples were no place for one who, as that Shinsengumi captain Saito had put it, ‘smelled of so much blood’.

The blood would keep flowing. As months passed, stories filtered into Choshu of the preparations the Bakufu forces were making for war.

A short time later more noise came from outside the gate. It was Katsura, walking quickly. With him were Shunme, and Oshio and Hojo who always seemed to get guard duty together.

They entered through the gate. It was rare for Katsura to visit the inn where his bodyguards were staying. Kenshin automatically went down the steps to greet them.

“Kenshin.” Katsura nodded acknowledgement, then went on. “Is Nakamura here?”

“No, he just left.”

Katsura frowned. “I need him.”

“I’ll find him.” said Shunme, his face unusually grim.

“I’ll go. I saw the direction he took.” Kenshin offered.

If Shunme found out that Nakamura was visiting a concubine, especially one that he’d paid to free from a brothel, there’d be no end to the teasing. Having decided to keep Nakamura’s secret, Kenshin found he was protective of it.

“Go.” Katsura agreed.

Slipping his sword through the wrapped obi at his waist, Kenshin took off running. He retraced the route he’d taken when he’d followed Nakamura before.

As he reached the street where Tamako the concubine lived, he stopped. There was a stranger standing with Nakamura and Takahata outside Tamako’s house. Further up the road he saw the low ponytail and blue kimono of Midori, disappearing around the corner with a bucket.

Kenshin hung back, his keen ears picking up phrases from the stranger as he lectured Nakamura and Takahata. “Must rest…no more walking….or around town….matter of time now….”

Nakamura turned abruptly and went inside. The stranger, obviously a doctor, handed Takahata a note, nodded, and left, walking swiftly toward Kenshin who ducked around the corner as he went by. As soon as the doctor was gone, he stole back to the corner to observe Tamako’s house.

Takahata’s small figure was moving away down the opposite side of the street toward the market district. Moving quietly, Kenshin went to the house. The door panel was still ajar. He moved into the front room. Apart from the sunken fire pit and cooking pot in the center of the floor and the bedding rolled up along the wall, there were few furnishings. He crossed by the smoldering cookfire, and stopped at the shoji screen partition leading to the next room. Nakamura’s voice came through it clearly.

“Tamako! Haven’t I told you, you must take better care of yourself? Why did you think you were well enough to go out this morning? Why?” Nakamura scolded.

“Please forgive me, I felt better this morning. I wanted to go to the market one last time.” Tamako’s voice was low and gentle, but faint, as if speaking was an effort.

Harsh sobs sounded. Nakamura was crying.

Kenshin took a step back in surprise.

“Oh my love,” sighed Tamako’s voice. “Hush, hush, please don’t cry.” she admonished gently, like a mother consoling a child.

It was wrong to be here.

Kenshin took another step back and kept going until he was out of the house completely and back in the street. No matter how badly Katsura wanted to talk to Nakamura, there was no way he was going to disturb the samurai at a time like this.

He pivoted and ran to the market district instead. It took several minutes, but he found Takahata at an herb seller’s stall.

“Takahata.”

The little man jumped slightly when Kenshin came alongside him. He folded the note the doctor had given him and stuffed it in his kimono sleeve. Kenshin pretended not to notice.

“Katsura is looking for Nakamura. Have you seen him?”

“Um, no. Not lately, but I could probably find him.” Takahata lied automatically, then remembering whom he was speaking to, bristled. “You can leave now.” He told Kenshin coldly.

Nodding, Kenshin went back to the inn.

An extremely flustered looking innkeeper was serving Katsura and Shunme tea as Kenshin came up. Oshio and Hojo sat by the window at the other side of the room, going back to their conversation as soon as they recognized Kenshin.

“Did you find him?” asked Shunme.

“Takahata is bringing him.”

“Join us, Kenshin.” Said Katsura. The innkeeper ran to get more tea. Katsura, Shunme, and Kenshin drank in silence, the only sound in the room the rise and fall of Oshio and Hojo’s voices, as they talked about friends and family back in their home village.

A short time later Nakamura and Takahata walked in the door. Nakamura looked as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. Apart from a slight redness around his eyes, all signs of tears were gone, but his expression was bleak.

Katsura took one look at him, got to his feet, and pulled him into a corner where they held a quiet conversation. Watching the way Katsura asked questions and Nakamura answered, Kenshin suspected that Katsura was asking what was wrong, and that Nakamura, judging by the length of his answers and the expression on his face, was telling him the truth.

So. Katsura knew about Nakamura’s concubine. He glanced at Shunme, to see if the older man was watching the conversation and coming to his own conclusions, but Shunme was staring out the door where Takahata had decided to sit and use the light from outside to glance again at the doctor’s note.

Feeling Kenshin’s gaze on him, Shunme looked at him and said, “There’s news of Ryoma.”

Kenshin waited and Shunme went on. “He was attacked at the Teradaya Inn in Fushimi.”

“Is he dead?”

Shunme’s mouth quirked. “That’s you all over Kenshin, straight to the heart of things.” He laughed softly. “No. Just wounded. His hands were slashed up pretty bad, and he’s recovering at the Satsuma estate nearby. The way he got away was incredible. He and Miyoshi were completely outnumbered.” Shunme went into story-telling mode, bright eyed and descriptive. “The Fushima police squads surrounded the inn and if Ryoma’s girl, Oryo, hadn’t heard them sneaking in…”

Steps sounded on the porch outside. Takahata quickly scooted out of the way to allow the newcomer to enter.

“Katsura! I’ve news.” Came the low, harsh voice.

It was Takasugi.