Terms of Engagement | By : Tamlin Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 3347 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Terms of Engagement
Chapter 11: Falling off Bridges
Okita
Okita was sitting on his futon listening to himself breathe.
It was…interesting… He’d really never paid much attention to breathing before.
Sure, he’d noticed when his breath would come in short, excited pants when
fighting, or the long, deep, relaxing breaths when first waking in the morning,
but he’d never really stopped and paid attention to the rush of air down his
throat, the way his lungs would fill, or the soft, almost relived way his lungs
would deflate as he exhaled. Only now, when his lungs strained and bled, did he
pay attention.
It didn’t help that everything around him was quiet. He
could distantly hear the murmur of voices from down in the common room, but up
here in the living quarters, all was silent. Even Saitou’s wife, Yaso, had
disappeared to go shopping. He’d rather hoped to get to know her better. Anyone
who could shake Saitou out of his ever annoying self control had to be
interesting.
He grinned to himself remembering the look on Saitou’s face
during the wedding ceremony then laughed as he remembered Saitou’s face after
the tea ceremony in the park. His friend had been…distracted?
No, that wasn’t quite right. His normally stoic, give-nothing-away friend had
been well and truly… He grinned wider. Flustered. That
was the word for Saitou, flustered. At the wedding ceremony his level of
flusteredness had increased to the point that he’d looked like a wolf who had
just had just learned that the deer had banded together and were plotting
against him.
His only regret had been that Saitou had managed to escape
the wedding feast. Watching Saitou twitch and eat flowers had been one of the
most entertaining things he’d seen in years. It had been made even more
entertaining when he’d realized that Yaso had been enjoying the show too and
had every intention of sitting placidly watching Saitou froth at the mouth for
the full duration of the feast. It also made him think that the gods had a
sense of humor, and thank them for only pairing him with a… plump…not
intellectually inclined…uhhh…
Oh, just admit it. A
voice that sounded suspiciously like Saitou grumbled in his head. Tokio’s a fat, ugly idiot.
Well, yes. But at
least she isn’t Yaso. He could only imagine the horror of having those
serenely devious eyes slide his way. It would be too much like being married to
Saitou. Now, that’s a horrid thought.
Saitou may be his best friend, but the friendship worked best because they
could escape each other when they started fraying each other’s nerves. Forced
to live together and they’d be at each other with swords within a week.
Okita lay back, grinning at the ceiling. He wondered when Yaso would be back. He was
feeling better, so maybe they could have dinner together while she waited for
Saitou to return from patrol. He nodded to himself, took a few deep breaths to
test to see if he would give himself away then got up.
He quickly straightened his clothing then went down to the
common room. A few men from his unit were sitting quietly eating when he arrived.
They waved happily to him, but returned to their meals. He smothered a smile.
They looked exhausted. Saitou must have run them through their patrol at top
speed. He would never admit it to Saitou, but he was a bit envious of the
other’s unit. His own desperately needed discipline,
but he just didn’t have the energy to patrol and yell at the same time. Often,
it was all he could do to not lean against a building and wheeze for breath.
He stepped into the kitchen and waved down a cook.
“I’d like some tea for…” He quickly calculated when Saitou
might get back and how long Yaso would probably be out shopping. It was nearly
dark, so no matter how dedicated a shopper Yaso was, she’d probably be back
soon. Saitou would probably be out till past midnight. “Two.”
The cook bowed and went to prepare the tea. Okita went back
into the common room and found a table away from the others, but close enough
to the stairs up to be able to ambush his guests into joining him. The tea was
placed in front of him quickly, and he took a sip, sighing
a relieved sigh. His throat had been feeling raw from coughing and the warm
liquid soothed it and took the bitter, lingering tang of blood out of his
mouth.
He was just starting to drowse at the table when thumps and
yells got his attention. He blinked himself back into the present and got up. Saitou’s
unit was scrambling into the common room with various expressions of anger, shock,
and, in some of the younger ones, fear.
His men from across the room rushed over to him, and, seeing
two of Saitou’s men carrying a limp figure, he waved them away. “Get Serizawa. Now.”
They scampered off as he grabbed one of Saitou’s men. “What
happened?”
“Sharpshooter.” The man snarled.
“We were down at the river and some ass hit the captain.”
Okita nodded, “Report everything to Serizawa.” He didn’t
wait for the man’s answer as he rushed to Saitou.
He felt his stomach clench when he looked at his friend.
Saitou was pale, with a terrifying blue tint to his lips. He hung limp and unconscious in his men’s arms
as they maneuvered carefully through the common room. A crude bandage made from
Saitou’s torn haori was wrapped around his chest and soaked through with blood.
Blood, sand, and water dripped in a
trail after them as they finally made the stairs.
“What is going…”Serizawa tumbled down the stairs and stopped
at the small troop of men carrying Saitou.
He quickly took in the wide shocked stares of the men around
him and the bedraggled, limp body of one of his captains. He turned and grabbed
the man standing next to him. “You, get the doctor.”
The man raced away as Serizawa waved the men forward. “Take
him to his quarters.” He looked around and spotted Saitou’s unit milling around
in a concerned mass at the foot of the stairs. “I want a report.” He stomped down
the stairs towards the men. “You lot sit down and start talking.”
Okita nudged the men carrying Saitou to go faster. “Hurry.”
One of Saitou’s men had had enough sense to rush ahead light
a small lantern and unroll Saitou’s futon. They carefully laid their limp
captain down on it and stepped back as the doctor rushed in. Okita watched
worriedly as the man quickly cut away the haori and clothes. As the wound was
revealed, Okita winced. The wound was serious, striking through Saitou’s chest
above and to the right of his heart. He looked away as the doctor continued
looking at Saitou’s injury. A wilted arrangement of autumn grass lay on a low
table to the side. Yaso had probably been working at an arrangement when she’d
been interrupted by her servant.
“It went through.” The doctor murmured. “An
entrance to the back and an exit.”
Okita nodded, glancing back to his friend’s still form then back
to looking around the room. The two men that had carried Saitou in stood near
him watching the doctor carefully.
“Tell me. How did this happen.” He frowned at them as they
shuffled uneasily.
“There were some Ishin down at the river. We went down to
investigate.” One man nodded to Saitou. “He split the unit up to take the Ishin
out and…”
The other shook his head angrily. “They set us up. There
were traps in the woods. When we went through, half the men got taken out by booby-traps.
By the time we got to the main engagement, everything was over.”
His companion snorted. “Four men, two
boys. We got the men easy enough. Messy, but easy.
We never even heard the shot. Just one minute the captain was about to take out
this swordsman and the next he was down. We got him and got out of there.”
Okita nodded. He’d have to go down to the river and
investigate in the morning. “Any ideas where the shot came
from?”
“Downstream. With the captain so bad, we didn’t stay and
investigate.” The man shook his head. “We did round up the boys, but they don’t
seem to know much. Just that they were hired to go out and hook a boat.”
A soft rush of feet and raised voices came from down bellow.
Okita looked at Saitou one last time and turned toward the door. “Tell me if
anything, and I mean anything, happens.”
He made his way back downstairs to the commotion. Kojiro
Choju was standing in the common room looking anxiously around. When the man
spotted him, he rushed over.
“I saw…is Saitou…I… Tokio…” The man wrung his hands
worriedly. “I’m so sorry. I’m not making much sense am I?” He took a deep
breath. “I saw men carrying Saitou and I was worried. Was Tokio hurt?”
Okita frowned, puzzled. “Why would Tokio be harmed?”
“With them marrying yesterday…” Choju looked worriedly
around. “I thought they might have been together and if Saitou…”
“Oh, no. Saitou married a lady
named Yaso, Yaso Shinoda, not Tokio.” Okita gave the man a small comforting
smile.
Choju blinked then shook his head. “No. That was Tokio. I
recognized her when I came in the inn yesterday.” He sighed. “So
headstrong. I told her to marry you, but there she was marrying Saitou
and what could I really do?”
Okita stopped and looked at the man. Tokio…Yaso…Saitou…
Tokio was Yaso? Saitou married Tokio? Sweet
gods, I almost married… He mentally cataloged her actions. She disguised herself as someone else,
created a false identity, terrorized Saitou, terrorized me, fooled everyone,
and yanked Saitou around like a dog on a leash, all the while smiling like a
Buddha. He felt a cold shiver go down his back at his near escape. And just how much does Saitou know? He
considered his friend for a moment then sighed. Probably everything.
He turned back to Choju…Saitou’s uncle. “Saitou was on
patrol. As far as I know, your niece was out shopping this afternoon.” He
looked around the common room. It was already dark out. She should have
returned by now.
Choju just nodded. “And Saitou?
Will he be alright? Tokio will be very worried.”
“We don’t know yet. The doctor is with him now.” Okita waved
towards one of the tables. “Why don’t you have some tea.
I’m sure when Tokio returns she’ll need you to comfort her.”
The man nodded and casting a few worried looks up the stairs
settled at a table. Okita looked around frowning. Yaso…Tokio should have
returned by time, but with Saitou down he couldn’t send anyone out to search
for her. Serizawa would require everyone to hunt down the shooter and the Ishin
that set this trap up.
Tokio
She’d gathered the remaining servants and was, to all
outward appearances, calmly leaving Kyoto, just one more group of people
fleeing the fighting. She looked sadly at her small entourage. Oh, Meido… Her dearest and most trusted
friend was missing. After talking to the others, she didn’t need to search to
know that Meido was now laying, nameless, in some dirty alley, one more corpse
in a city of the dead.
If
only I hadn’t been so sure of myself, so pleased, so distracted. She hung her head, forcing herself not
to look back over her shoulder to where Shinsengumi headquarters lay nearly on
the other side of Kyoto. Saitou…
All day long, as she’d gathered her servants and arranged
for them to leave Kyoto, she’d been plagued by thoughts of her wolfish darling.
Impossible thoughts. Silly thoughts.
Tempting thoughts. Naive thoughts of
going to him and telling him everything. Girlish
thoughts of Saitou declaring that none of her uncle’s traitorous behavior
mattered because he loved her. Desperate, lonely thoughts of what her
life would now be like.
She wasn’t foolish enough to miss the simple fact that no
one would be able to take his place. Where would she ever find a cunning, amber
eyed wolf in human form again? Who would match Saitou’s ability to
simultaneously drive her mad with anger and tempt her to come closer? Who would
want a wife like her? Too smart, too stubborn, too independent.
Nowhere. No one.
She was walking away from the only person who would ever know her and still
accept her. And she was doing it deliberately, of her own free will.
Damn you, Uncle.
If she turned around, her uncle’s plot would continue
forward. Saitou and all her servants would be the ones to pay for her failure. All she could hope for now was to escape and
hide long enough for her uncle’s creditors to take him apart. Without her, his
money supply would dwindle away. Without her, her uncle had no reason to
continue with his plans. Her grandfather’s will was clear. If she married her
husband would inherit her estate. If Saitou died, the estate would revert to
her cutting her uncle out completely. Only by killing both, Saitou and her, in
that order, would Choju finally get his hands on the money he so desperately
needed. With her disapearance, her uncle’s hopes of inheriting would also be
gone.
Maybe, if she was patient, maybe after Uncle Choju’s
creditors disposed of him, she could return to Saitou. But would he want her? A
runaway bride who trampled over his pride? She sighed in defeat and crushed the
fragile hope dead. No, once she left, she was never going to be able to come
back.
So she trudged along the streets of Kyoto with her servants.
Maybe, she could send them ahead. She could send them to
Aizu to be with her father and go back to Saitou. She’d confess everything, and
if he wanted to kill her, so be it. But he’d listen first, and maybe he’d be
able to deal with her uncle. She looked up, almost wildly then shook her head.
Her uncle would still kill Saitou. Instead of solving her problems, marrying
Saitou had only added one more problem, one more weakness that Uncle Choju
would destroy her with. With her money backing him, he’d be able to dispose of
her wolf. Funny how the only thing that money could reliably buy, even in the middle
of a revolution, was misery.
“Lady.”
She looked up, jerked out of her thoughts. “Yes?”
It was one of the kitchen maids,
she frowned looking at the girl, struggling to remember her name.
Wonderful. I’m destroying my entire life for someone
whose name I can’t remember.
“Lady, men are ahead.” The girl pointed shakily to where the
Shijo Ohashi Bridge arched over the churning river ahead.
“It’s okay.” She motioned for the others to gather closer.
“We don’t want to attract too much attention, so let’s go over in two groups.
If we get separated, we meet at the town gate.”
“I’ll go with you, Lady Tokio.” Tanda, the groom stepped to
her side.
Baidai, his elderly father nodded, “Good, good. I will take
the first group. If they try anything, they will try it with us first.”
He gathered half the servants to himself and trundled along.
Tanda, the other half of the servants, and Tokio watched anxiously, but the men
on the bridge stepped aside and called a good evening to the group.
When the first group had disappeared, Tanda motioned them
forward. The men on the bridge smiled and called greetings as they approached. Tanda
stepped by laughing and greeting them. A few maids tagged nervously at his
heels then Tokio walked past.
“Ah, there you are.” One of the men reached out and grabbed
her. “We’ve been waiting.”
She heard Tanda yell and the maids scream as she was swung, slamming
her into the stone rail of the bridge. The man that held her
sneered over his shoulder and she saw a glimpse of Tanda facing a man wielding
a sword as maids ran cowering away. She kicked out desperately, causing the man
to turn his attention back to her.
“Bye, sweetheart.” He laughed and
shoved her hard, causing her to topple over backwards into the water below.
The river was freezing and the current pulled her down
quickly. She struggled back to the surface, struggling to get out of her robes
that were dragging back into the depths. She was pulled under again as her
fingers scrambled at her obi tugging at the wet fabric desperately. She felt
the cloth give and she wiggled out of it, surfacing again with a grateful gulp
of air. She wasn’t far from the bridge, the current had dragged her down, but
not far away, so she swam to the nearest safety, the bridge’s support.
From overhead she could hear the last of the fight and, a
moment after she latched herself to the pillar, Tanda
was thrown over the side of the bridge and was unresistingly pulled down by the
current.
“Any sign of them.” Someone overhead asked.
There was a pause. Then someone answered. “No. The river’s
fast tonight. They’re probably half way out to sea by now.”
“Ah, how tragic.” One of the men
overhead panted. “Too bad we couldn’t tie them together.”
Another laughed, “A shinju, how poetic. Maybe we could say
he gutted himself after she jumped.”
“Enough.” A slightly deeper voice interrupted. “We’ve got to
report back. Naga’s probably killed the wolf, so they’ll want to know his bitch
is dead too.”
Toki froze. Wolf? Her wolf? Dead? No, her uncle
couldn’t have moved that fast…could he?
One of the attackers snorted. “Hmph.
No honor in guns.”
“I didn’t see you volunteering to kill any of Mibu’s wolves.”
The deeper voice sneered.
Saitou… Oh please, not
you too…
“Hey, I wasn’t there when we were assigned.”
“Shut up. We’ve got to report.” The deep voice snarled.
Feet trampled across the bridge. Tokio clung to the pillar
staring blankly at the spot Tanda’s body had hit the water. She only hoped the
maids had gotten away to meet with Baidai at the gate. She looked up towards
were the men had walked off the bridge.
Tanda. Meido. Saitou. I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.
There was only one thing left to do. She swam carefully from
pillar to pillar until she was on the bank of the river. She tiredly climbed up
to the street level and turned her back on the city gates, and shivering, she
made her way back to Shinsengumi headquarters.
I don’t care. I just
don’t care if they kill me. You aren’t going to kill everything I love and get
away with it. Do you hear me uncle? I’m not going to let you get away with it
anymore.
Okita
The doctor came down the stairs looking serious as half the
men in the room bolted to their feet and stared at him anxiously.
“I can’t say.” The doctor shook his head. “It’s doubtful if
he’ll make it till morning.”
The men shifted unhappily at that. Liked or not, Saitou had
been respected, and as a captain, his loss to the Shinsengumi would be a blow.
“I’ll come back in a few hours to check in on him.” The
doctor shuffled wearily to the exit. “Keep him warm and still.”
Okita, sitting across from Choju, nodded dully. He’d always
imagined that he’d be the first to die. He’d never imagined losing Saitou, at
least not to something so…so impersonal as an
assassin’s bullet. When he thought of the future, he had always been sure that
Saitou would survive the war. His friend had always been so vibrantly,
stubbornly alive that he couldn’t really make his mind accept that he’d just
die, snuffed out like a candle flame. Oh, he’d occasionally worry about Saitou
getting into a duel with a hitokori, like the Battousai and dying a glorious
death, but part of him firmly believed that Saitou would drag his wounded wolf
hide back to headquarters and snarl for a week or so about red heads and
getting even someday.
“Shouldn’t someone stay with him?” Choju looked up the
stairs with a concerned look on his face.
Okita nodded and stood up. “I’ll stay with him.”
“May I come too?” Choju stood too. “He is family.”
Okita nodded and they both slowly climbed the stairs to
Saitou’s room. The lamp was still glowing softly next to Saitou’s futon. The
doctor had left it there and Okita carefully sat down next to it looking at his
friend in its golden light.
Saitou looked better than he had when he’d first been
brought in. The doctor had cleaned the mud away and discarded the wet bloody
clothes. Now, Saitou lay quietly breathing soft shallow breaths. His skin, warm
and free of dirt, was still pale, but lacked the frightening blue parlor from
before.
“He looks well.” Choju whispered then smiled softly. “He’ll
be fine.”
Okita nodded. “He’s strong. It will take more than one
bullet to kill him.”
He made himself sound confident, but inside he worried.
Saitou was too motionless, too quiet. He’d traveled with him, and he knew that
Saitou, even asleep was never this still. He looked to Choju. The man looked
worried.
“He’s nearly impossible to kill.” He reached out and touched
Saitou’s shoulder. “He’ll be back up and hunting the bastard that shot him down
in a couple of weeks.”
Choju nodded, still not looking relieved. “Tokio will be
happy to know that.”
Okita looked around the room, wondering where Tokio was. She
hadn’t come back yet, and he didn’t care how much men joked about their wives’
shopping, no woman would shop in Kyoto after sundown. He’d have to send someone
out to find her. He stood, bowing lightly to Choju.
“Why don’t we take turns watching him?” He walked to the
door. “I’ll go get some tea, and we can discuss how we can split up the
shifts.”
The man smiled slightly. “That sounds like a good plan.”
Okita slipped the door shut and hurried down the stairs. He
didn’t want Choju to worry about his niece. The day was already bad, why make
it worse? The men in the common room had disappeared, probably to their rooms.
It was late and the patrols had gone out already and wouldn’t be back till
after sunrise. He stepped down the stairs to the front gate, looking for
someone to send out looking for Tokio.
“Hsst. Okita.” A voice whispered
softly from the shadows.
Okita spun, his hand going to his katana. “Who…”
Tokio, a half naked, drenched Tokio, stepped out from the
shadows trying to cover herself with her arms. “Okita… Something bad has
happened.”
He had a half dead wolf upstairs and a half naked woman
downstairs and she was telling him
something bad had happened. He fought down the urge to laugh. He had the
feeling it would come out with a hysterical ring to it.
“Tell me about it.” He meant to be sarcastic.
Tokio dropped her head tiredly and nodded. “I owe you that…”
Choju
The son of a bitch was supposed to be dead. He glared down at
Saitou. He’d paid a small fortune for the best sharp shooter in Asia to kill
the mangy cur and the incompetent had missed! Now he was stuck with a half dead
in-law and hopefully by now, dead niece. He could probably fudge the time of
his niece’s death since finding her body was going to be nearly impossible, but
Saitou…
He looked down at the unconscious man. He had to make sure
the man didn’t live till dawn. He looked around hurriedly. He could use the
lantern, burn him to death and take out Shinsengumi headquarters as well. His
Ishinshishi creditors might look favorably at that, maybe even forgive a few of
his debts. Still, there was the possibility that the Shinsengumi would be
rather upset about losing their base of operations. Not that they’d have it for
long anyway. Not with the Ishin knowing where it was and already planning an
assault. Still, burning Saitou to death would be too risky.
He eyed the bandages on Saitou’s chest. He could reopen the
wound, say that Saitou had been thrashing around and he’d just been trying to
quiet him when the stitches came loose. He glanced at the door. Okita would be
back soon with tea. He’d have to wait till he had more time to put that plan
into action, but then the doctor would be coming back in a few hours. He shook
his head discarding the plan as too risky. He needed Saitou dead fast.
Poison? Ah, that would be the best. He could slip some in
Saitou’s mouth and he’d be half way home before the man died. Of course the
problem was that he didn’t have any poison on him. He’d have to go get some.
Not too troublesome. He had some at home. He’d been planning on slipping it
into Tokio’s tea one day, but with things rushing along the way they were, he’d
had to hire men to take care of his niece. He could easily tell Okita he wanted
to go home to check to see if Tokio was there and get the poison. He’d come
back, tell Okita to get some rest and pour the poison into Saitou. When the man
died, he’d be just as shocked and horrified as the others.
Poor Saitou. Poor Tokio.
The only problem with that was time. Once again he had that
damn doctor coming in a few hours. It would take time to walk home and then
walk back. The doctor could show up by then and he couldn’t very well dismiss
the doctor.
He looked around again and considered the cushions. Those
might work. He could gently press a cushion down over Saitou’s face, stop his
breathing. Once the man was dead, he could run out and call for help saying
that Saitou had stopped breathing and call the doctor. It would only take a few
moments, and it would look perfectly natural. After all, the man had a serious
chest wound.
Choju picked up a cushion and plumped it thoughtfully in his
hands. Perfect.
Okita
Choju.
In a warped, terrible way, Tokio’s story made perfect sense.
He’d known something was off when he’d first investigated Choju for Saitou. The
whole marry-my-niece-off scheme had just been too wrong. The man was slime, so
why the sudden need to protect his darling niece? He snarled softly to himself.
Tokio was still standing in front of him with her head
hanging low. He’d given her his haori- the thought of what Saitou would do to
him if he ever heard of him having a conversation in a courtyard with his half
naked wife had prompted him to hand it over quickly- but she still stood dripping
forlornly, expecting the worst.
Aku. Soku. Zan.
Kill evil instantly. But she wasn’t the evil one. She was
just one more victim. No the evil was…
Oh, by the gods…
upstairs with Saitou…
He turned and ran. He heard Tokio’s startled voice as he
rushed through the common room drawing his sword. He slammed the screen open to find Choju bent
over Saitou pressing a cushion down on his friend’s face.
The man froze, looking back over his shoulder at him, a look
of panic crossing his face.
“Uncle!” Tokio was at his shoulder.
The man jumped away. “I…I…I just thought he…”
“I told him uncle.” Tokio wrapped in his haori stepped into
the room, her voice tight with fury. “I told him everything.”
“Told him what?” He made a small derisive snort and turned
to Okita. “I don’t know what nonsense my niece has been telling you.” He nodded
to Saitou. “I was just putting a cushion under his head. I thought it might
help him breathe easier.”
“About the Ishinshishi. About your gambling debts. About you
killing the servants. About your plan to marry me off and kill my husband and
me so you could inherit my money.” Tokio snarled.
Okita stepped forward lifting his sword. “Get away from him,
Choju.”
Choju stumbled backwards. “Okita, really. I don’t know where
this girl…”
Okita shifted lower into battle stance. “Tokio, go. Get out
of here. I can deal with him.”
“Okita…” Choju sounded frantic. “I don’t even have a weapon.
I am hardly a threat.” He looked around franticly. “Let’s be reasonable…”
“Reasonable?! You were trying to kill Saitou! We saw you
uncle.” Tokio growled looking around for a weapon.
Choju shook his head then dove to the side. Okita shoved
Tokio aside as Choju reached into his robes and pulled a gun. The man’s eyes
were wild with fear and hatred.
“It was supposed to be mine!” Choju yelled, aiming at his
now sprawled niece. “I was first born. It should have been mine! Not yours!”
He pulled the trigger. But he forgot Okita. In a glitter of
silver, Okita’s blade batted the bullet aside. Choju’s eyes widened momentarily
as the next move Okita made buried the blade through his heart. The three stood
frozen a moment, then Choju slumped down to the floor. Voices could be heard,
yelling in alarm as footsteps raced through the halls.
“What the hell…” Serizawa raced in to find Okita wiping his
blade with a look of disgust on his face, Choju dead at his feet, and Saitou’s
wife, dressed only in a Shinsengumi haori, kneeling at her husband’s side
gently stroking his face.
“Aku. Soku. Zan.” Okita frowned down at the body.
Saitou
“No.”
Saitou took a deep breath, hiding his wince, and prayed for
one more minute of patience. “It’s been three weeks.”
His wife smiled sweetly and shook her head. “One more week
won’t kill you.”
Evil woman. Saitou
growled to himself and glared at the tray of food his beloved had set in front
of him. He’d been trapped for three weeks, unable to even leave his futon for
more than the minimal shuffle to use the chamberpot…for three whole weeks.
Three weeks!
“I could get you some more ohaki? Would you like that?” Tokio
was delicately arranging an elegant display of autumn chrysanthemums and red
maple leaves. She wanted him to enjoy the fall, even if she could only bring it
to him one piece at a time.
“I’m going to get slow and fat.” He grumped at her. “I’ll
end up looking like a shop keeper.”
She finished her arrangement and came to sit next to him.
“You couldn’t look like a shop keeper if you tried.”
“I don’t see why I can’t just sit by the window.” He hated
that he’d been degraded into whining like a puppy for a treat.
“Would you like me to comb your hair?” She ignored him,
which made the whining that much worse.
“You have an unhealthy obsession with my hair.” He glowered
then sighed when the glower was ignored too.
Tokio grinned at him. “It’s been three weeks for me too.”
She bent forward and nipped his ear. “I have to fondle some part of you.”
He was officially in hell.
Okita chose then to bounce into the room. “Hey. Look what I
found on patrol.”
He handed a bunch of dried grass to Tokio who smiled at him
as if he’d handed her jewels and silk.
“Thank you, Okita. Would you like something to eat?” She
stood up and walked over to her desk, putting the dried grass down carefully.
“Saitou would love some company.”
“I’m not ten. I can say if I want company or not.” He snarled
at his wife then turned to Okita. “Get out.”
“And here I was going to tell you something interesting.”
Okita bounded to his feet. “I guess I’ll keep it to myself.”
“What?” Saitou shifted around uncomfortably. “The Battousai’s
really a girl and she’s given up her life as a hitokori to become a mother?”
Okita snickered. “I’ve got to remember that.”
Okita sat back down and started snitching food off Saitou’s
tray forcing his friend to start eating to keep him from taking all the best
parts. Tokio glanced over to him and nodded slightly in thanks.
“Nope. I found out something even better.” Okita snickered
and made a grab for a piece of fish, only to get his fingers smacked away.
“Remember that old priest who married everyone?”
Saitou ate the piece of fish, watching as his wife opened a
chest and started pulling things out. “Yes. What about him?”
“He wasn’t really a priest.” Okita arched his eyebrows.
“According to one of the mikos, he was actually the cousin of the priest, who
had dysentery. All those official weddings Serizawa forced everyone to go
through…”
Saitou frowned. Tokio pulling a go board out of the trunk
turned frowning as well.
“Just imagine that…” Okita sat well back out of range as the
information sank in.
“I’m imagining.” Saitou tipped his head then grinned a wolfy
grin at his now growling wife. “Isn’t that interesting Yaso?”
“Fascinating.” Tokio looked like she was going to hit
someone with the go board then got even scarier when she smiled. “How nice.”
She got up and brushed off her robes, straightening them. “Now, where are my
letters? This time, I’m going to get this right. No wolves, swordsmen, poets,
rice farmers…”
Saitou snarled at Okita, “Go find a priest.”
Okita knew a good moment for a retreat when it presented
itself and left quickly, laughing to himself as he trotted down the stairs
listening to the sound of a go board hitting the floor.
Saitou glared at his wife. “You’re still married.”
“That can be argued.” She danced past him grinning. “You
married Yaso Shinoda. As far as I know, you never married anyone named Tokio
Takagi.”
He grabbed her ankle as she tried to slip past again,
causing her to stumble and drop the go board. “You’re married.”
“As I remember, you have to bed me three times to claim me
as a visiting wife.” She frowned at him. “You only did that once, so…”
“Get down here and we’ll work on that.” Saitou kept a firm
grip on her leg.
“That’s just the sweetest most romantic thing anyone has
ever said to me.” Tokio pulled on her leg. “I bet all sorts of women just fall
at your feet when you say that.”
Saitou struggled up, wincing at the pull he felt across his
chest. “Tokio…”
“Stay put.” She suddenly knelt and pushed him back. “Don’t
you dare move around like that Hajime. You’ll hurt yourself.”
He pulled her down with him. “You’re mine. Understand.”
She smiled against his throat. “And you’re mine.”
Saitou relaxed as he felt her
shift her weight to settle at his side curling against him. He’d deal with
Tokio and whatever game she was playing later. It would keep him from going
insane till he could once again take up his duties. Maybe Okita would actually
go get that priest and they could argue and maneuver around that, or maybe
she’d turn suspiciously docile while her eyes glittered with devilment. He
sighed softly as her fingers slipped under his yukuta and rubbed along his
ribs. Perhaps, they’d find a different game to play, one a bit more intimate
than mere verbal sparring. In the end, it really didn’t matter, just as long as
they played it together.
The
End
Review please
Yes, I was considering an epilog, but I decided to just
write another Saitou/Tokio fic, but you’ll have to wait. I have already begun a
Final Fantasy VII fic that I need to complete first.
theablackthorn:
Thanks again for the great review. It makes me happy to know that my stories
are liked by people. Yes, I got Saitou out of the way. I seriously thought of
having him be all wolfish and heroic, but then decided that Tokio needed to
stand up for herself. She dug herself into that mess and she needed to find a
backbone and realize how important Saitou was to her. I also wanted Okita to
have some time to show he was more than a happy-go-lucky and helpless invalid.
Most fanfics I’ve read only let Okita be sick and playful, but looking at
history, he’s really dangerous. In some ways more so than Saitou, so Okita got
to be heroic while Tokio stood up to her uncle and Saitou took a nap.
Research Notes:
Gunshot wounds to the chest- Yuck. What I go through for
you guys… Here’s a picture for all you curious people. http: //www. doereport. com/generateexhibit.php?ID=4911.
I’ll use that wound since it’s there so nice and neat. I’m pretty sure, but not
positive, that the wound is survivable since it missed the heart, arteries, and
backbone. The only changes I will make is that instead of a collapsed lung,
Saitou had a confused one and I will say no huge ugly blood clot hanging over
his diaphragm and lung. If you wish to learn more, have fun. I’m going to go
pretend I didn’t just look at a cross section of the human chest. Yuck.
Shijo Ohashi Bridge- I had a terrible time trying to find
out about bridges and rivers in Kyoto, but I finally found the information. Go
me! The Shijo Ohashi Bridge is also known as the Gion Bridge and goes across
the Kamo River. On one side is a theater that plays are held which I think is
the one in “Memoirs of a Geisha” but I’m too lazy to look that up. Here’s a
link for a very, very tiny history of the bridge. http: //www.
japanican. com/japaninfo/Detail. aspx?BookID=A3700150&category=S&lang=English
and here’s one for a picture of the bridge. http: //images. google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://archiphoto.
sakura.ne.jp/images/kyushu_okinawa/kumamoto/gion_bashi/IMG_6617_1ss. jpg&imgrefurl=http://archiphoto.sakura.ne.
jp/bridge_en.htm&h=120&w=160&sz=38&hl=en&start=10&um=1&tbnid=3
1Yy6loFnMsqcM:&tbnh=74&tbnw=98&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dgion%2Bbridge%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rls%3Dcom.microsoft:*
:IE-SearchBox%26rlz%3D1I7GWYE%26sa%3DN. I just hope the addresses will show.
I’ve noticed that they get a bit messy. If you have trouble, try mediaminer
where the addresses get translated a bit better. I noted that the water under
the bridge seemed very placid, but I found a few sites with close-ups of the
water and realized that it was both deep and ran very fast. There’s one picture
of two people sitting next to the river and it didn’t look all that placid or
shallow. Actually, it looked rather scary. I also found a site that shows the height
of the stone railings. They look kind of short in the picture. They are
actually tall enough to sit on comfortably.
Shinju- this a
suicide pact between one or more people. It was sometimes committed when two
lovers, who for some reason could not be together, would kill themselves. They
believed that this would allow them to fulfill their love in another life. It
was all very goth and popular, and having people throw themselves off bridges
after spouting poetry was a popular theatrical theme. For more info: http: //www. britannica. com/eb/topic-540799/shinju
or go to http: //en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Shinj%C5%AB. There is actually a
really good book called Shinju. I haven’t finished it yet, but it’s great so
far. –And how could you even think that I read too many books about Japan. Bad
reader. Bad.-
Married? Not Married?- I’m pretty sure that Saitou and Tokio
are still married, even if the priest was a fake. As I pointed out before, the
priest seems optional in Daughter of the
Samurai. Tokio is just teasing and
Saitou knows it.
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