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A Cicada In Winter	By : roryheadmav Category: +G to L > Haru wo Daiteita Views: 3347 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Haru wo Daiteita, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
This non-profit
work is based on Nitta Youka's Haru Wo Daiteita prequel "Fuyu No Semi".
Original copyright of the HWD characters solely belongs to Nitta Youka
and Biblos. Absolutely no monetary gain was made from this work.
A CICADA IN WINTER

By Rory V. Pascual

CHAPTER FOUR
Three hours later saw Akizuki rethinking
the strong stand he made that morning to his father and brother.
Did I say earlier that I wanted
to pursue a higher education? Akizuki asked himself, as he stared blearily
at the blackboard and at the new English sensei's indecipherable scrawling.
They were intended to be rules on
English phonetics, but because Akizuki had already memorized the rules
by heart, he could see all too clearly the mistakes in the content, including
the sentence construction, of the rules his sensei was struggling to teach.
There were even three or four misspelled words, not to mention a couple
of misplaced punctuation marks. Already, Akizuki was itching to correct
the man. Instead of giving in to the impulse, he propped his elbow on the
desktop and cupped his chin in his left hand. As he gazed outside the window,
his mind went back to that fateful evening that his father and brother
never failed to remind him of.
That night, Hayama Sumire had informed
him of the Choshu-han plot to burn down the gaijin embassies of Shinagawa.
Because the okama had a special performance before the Dutch consul that
evening, Akizuki had opted to go alone and stop the arsonists. The problem
Sumire had not learned the exact time of the strike, only that it would
occur at night and the order of the embassies to be burned. By the time
he had arrived at the first target, the blaze had already been set. In
swift succession, the embassies had been burned one by one, and he had
been powerless to stop it.
In a last ditch attempt, Akizuki
had gone to what was supposed to be the last target, hoping to capture
one of the perpetrators. What he stumbled upon instead was the surprising
sight of a young Choshu-jin soldier lugging a bucket filled with water
back and forth between a well and the burning embassy, trying to put out
the very blaze that his comrades had set. Because of the darkness and the
flickering shadows, Akizuki never got a good look at the man's face. But
the image of amber eyes shining in the moonlight was forever etched in
his memory. That, and their parting words.
"I hope I'll see you again," the
man had told him, "and perhaps we could discuss this issue at length
over a bottle of sake."
Akizuki had to admit he found that
prospect of a reunion with the Choshu-jin soldier he had saved to be very
appealing. For months since that night, he had a nagging suspicion that
those small acts of arson were simply a prelude to something big. He might
be able to glean some information of what the Choshu-han was planning.
Then, there was the man himself.
The Choshu-jin warrior was obviously a pacifist, given the way he had swiftly
insinuated himself between his hot headed friend and the Bakushin samurai.
He hadn't given in to the natural impulse to draw his sword. The man had
also shared his views about the country. They were of two like minds that
Akizuki felt as if he had met a kindred spirit.
What dismayed Akizuki the most was
that the likelihood of their meeting again was practically nil. They were
worlds apart, belonging to rival factions that were determined to sink
their teeth into their enemies' throats like wild tigers. A mere association
would arouse suspicions. Actualy friendship would be met with very strong
resistance from their comrades.
If only they lived in different,
more peaceful times�.
Why am I always thinking about
him? mused Akizuki, grimacing wryly. We're never going to see each
other again! I might as well just concentrate on the lesson.
However, as he focused once more
on the blackboard, he was dismayed to see that everything that was written
was rife with grammatical errors. Worse, his classmates, who were not as
bright as he was, were reciting aloud those same errors.
Groaning inwardly, Akizuki thought,
Looks like I won't be learning anything new today. I might as well go
and get me a nice bottle of sake.
With a quick raise of his hand to
be excused, Akizuki escaped the boring class with books in tow.
The new sensei watched in amusement
as the young samurai left the classroom. The other teachers also observed
his departure as he walked past their classrooms. The academy staff were
all too aware of the fact that Akizuki Keiichirou was more knowledgeable
about Western language and culture than they were, so they were accustomed
to seeing the bright young man leave right in the middle of a class to
meander in the hallways, looking for an interesting lecture to listen in
to or to actually leave the academy for a bite to eat and a bottle of sake
to drink.
This time around, however, what Akizuki
stumbled upon was a full-blown argument between one of the academy guards
and a scruffy-looking young samurai, clearly a Choshu-jin.
"You again! How many times do I have
to tell you that your kind is not welcome here!" the guard roared at the
intruder.
"Onegai!" the man begged him in earnest.
"I mean no harm! I only wish to get an education."
"Why would a Choshu-jin like you
need an education for? Looking for more inventive ways to achieve your
demented goals instead of just through arson? These are hallowed halls
for men of learning. We will never allow men who believe in creating infernos
to solve the country's problems to taint these halls with their mere presence.
And you are one of them!"
"Yes, it is true that I am a member
of the Choshu-han, but I've always supported the opening of the country's
borders. The last time Japan's doors were opened to the West, I wasn't
even in Choshu. I chose to stay away because it was against my beliefs."
As Akizuki watched, the man fell
to his knees before the guard and bowed with his forehead touching the
ground. "I beg you! I only wish to study English. Please allow me to listen
to the lectures, even from the corridor. I swear I won't cause any trouble."
He lifted his books to the guard. "Look! I even have these!"
However, the guard's eyes narrowed
at the sight of those books. "But these books belong to one of our students.
Where did you get these?" Grabbing the poor young man by the lapel of his
keikogi, he growled, "You stole them, didn't you!"
The man shook his head. "No, I didn't!
The original owner�he threw them in the fire. I didn't want to see such
good books go to waste, so I salvaged them."
"LIAR!"
Akizuki was horrified to see the
books forcefully confiscated and the poor samurai shoved face first to
the ground. The guard even stomped on his fallen spectacles, breaking them
into pieces.
"I don't want to see your face ever
again!" the guard declared in finality. "If you dare show up here again,
I'll have the Shinsengumi arrest you. We have enough problem students here
at the academy, and we have no intention of including a Choshu-jin rabble-rouser
like you among them!"
Akizuki's handsome features darkened
at that statement. He knew full well whom the 'problem student' the guard
was referring to. Anger and pity for the poor samurai finally drove Akizuki
to step forward.
The guard blanched in an instant,
seeing his stern visage. "A�Akizuki-san�." He stammered, suddenly at a
loss for words.
"If you have derogatory things to
say about me, do so right in my face," Akizuki told the guard, his voice
as sharp as the two swords hanging at his left hip. "I do not want the
Choshu-han to think that we in the Bakuhan are not only bigoted towards
them, but that we are also backstabbers towards our own men."
His face hot from being chastised
so severely by the 'black sheep' of the academy, the guard could only say,
"Gomen, Akizuki-san."
Akizuki raised his right hand, palm
up. "Those books�hand them over."
"But, Akizuki-san. These books belong
to Takayama-san."
"Which, if what this man says is
true, was thrown in the rubbish by Takayama-san himself. Knowing the dullard
that Takayama is, I have no doubt of the veracity of this man's words.
Better that these books find ownership with someone who has a great thirst
for learning, something that Takayama obviously does not possess."
The guard hesitated for a moment,
glaring sharply at the man kneeling at his feet. Grudgingly, he thrust
the books into Akizuki's hand and, with a curt bow, stormed away.
"Daijoubu desu ka?" Akizuki turned
his attention to the poor Choshu-jin samurai, who was slowly picking himself
up from the ground, brushing away the dust from his clothes. "I apologize
for the insolence of our guards." Eyeing the broken glasses, he added,
"I'll see to it that new spectacles are made for you, out of that baka's
wages."
Surprisingly, the young man shook
his head. "No, it's all right. I understand. He was only doing his duty.
Besides, I don't really need to wear spectacles anyway. I was hoping that
I would make a good impression on him this time and he would permit me
to listen to the lessons."
"Sadly, it didn't work," Akizuki
remarked wryly. He handed the books back to him. "Here you go. I think
these books belong to you�if you really didn't steal them from Takayama."
"Of course not!" The young samurai
snatched his precious books back. "Since he didn't want them anymore, they're
mine now."
Akizuki grimaced, brushing away the
bothersome locks of hair that kept on tickling his forehead. "I doubt if
those books would be of any use to you since they're all in English and�"
The words were locked in Akizuki's
throat, his hand stopping in mid-sweep over his brow, seeing startled amber
eyes staring entranced at him.
Golden eyes� Akizuki
thought in confusion. These eyes are� But that's impossible!
Then, the Choshu-jin samurai took
two shocked steps backward, making a sound like a frog being strangled.
"It's you!" he gasped out. "The samurai
from that night!"
"Nani?" Akizuki stammered as the
memory of the night of the embassy fires came flooding back. "Are you�he?
But how�what�."
Pointing a trembling finger at him,
the Choshu-jin warrior shrieked out a most unexpected question that caused
the veins in Akizuki's temple to pop out.
"AKKKK! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HAIR?"
Furious, Akizuki's fist connected
with the man's head. "BAKA YARO! OF ALL THE OBVIOUS THINGS YOU COULD ASK
ME, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO START WITH MY HAIR?"
As his hands covered his aching crown,
with tears welling up in his eyes, all Kusaka Touma could cry out was,
"GOMEN NASAI! GOMEN NASAI!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Akizuki observed through narrowed
eyes the sulking figure following a good distance behind him. The Choshu-jin
warrior was favoring his aching head, his amber eyes glaring resentfully
at him.
"Rather than bore holes through my
head with your eyes," Akizuki casually remarked, "why don't you walk beside
me?"
Kusaka lifted his head in surprise
at that unexpected suggestion. "I don't think that's a good idea. Have
you forgotten what I am? This way, people will think I'm just your servant."
"Or they might think you're a Choshu-han
assassin about to plunge your dagger into my back." Akizuki turned around
and gestured with both hands to their mundane surroundings. "As you can
see, there's no one here. Even if there were, they won't think ill of either
you or I. These are ordinary folk who only desire to continue with the
simple peace of their day-to-day lives."
The Choshu-jin had to agree with
the Bakushin samurai's assessment. He had walked these side streets before,
and the people who lived in these small houses seemed to be residing in
a cozy bubble, untouched by the turmoil around them. After all, they have
too many problems of their own to involve themselves in politics as well.
Here, they treated everyone equally. Choshu-jin were greeted with a cheerful
"Konnichiwa!" just the same as a Bakushin.
A charming smile lit up Kusaka's
face. "I accede to your wisdom." Taking his place at his Bakushin savior's
right side, he inquired, "Where are we going anyway?"
"Some place where we could talk in
private," Akizuki answered him. Giving the other an equally warm smile,
he added, "You did tell me that we could discuss important issues over
a bottle of sake."
"Hai, I did say that. But�"
"It's settled then. I know a good
restaurant here. It's small, but the food is good. Just like home cooking."
At the mention of food, Kusaka's
stomach began to growl, causing his grin to broaden. "If that's the case,
hayaku, hayaku!"
In a few minutes, the two men arrived
at a modest, but very pleasant-looking little restaurant.
"Well, we're here!" Akizuki announced
as he went inside.
The Bakushin samurai failed to notice
the fearful expression on his companion's face. Gazing nervously at his
surroundings, Kusaka slinked in after Akizuki, his great apprehension all
too apparent.
Inside, Akizuki was greeting a smiling
young man with black hair like a mop. "Konnichiwa, Murayama-san! I would
like my usual table, please."
Murayama Kenji gestured to a private
table in the corner. "It's available for you as always."
"Oh, and please bring us your best
bottle of sake. I've brought a new friend." Akizuki tilted his head in
the direction of a suddenly pale Kusaka. "He promised he'd treat me."
As Akizuki went towards the table,
it was then that Murayama saw the timid figure cowering behind the Bakushin.
"Kusaka-san! Nani�"
Kusaka immediately clamped a hand
over his mouth to silence him. "Urusai! I don't want her to know I'm here!"
Murayama's lips squinched up in a
pout of disapproval. "She's going to kill me if she finds out I let you
in here, much more allow you to eat! You even brought company! What are
you doing with Akizuki-san anyway?"
"Onegai, Kenji-san! I swear I'll
pay you back for the sake." Kusaka hastily whispered, "Serve us a cheaper
wine."
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Akizuki-san
is one of our best customers."
"Then, I'll pay you back in two days!"
Murayama breathed in surrender. As
he walked away, he grumbled, "That's what you always say!"
Soon, the two samurai were seated
at the private table, a bottle of sake, the best liquor in the house much
to the chagrin of Kusaka, and two small cups between them. There was even
a small sushi platter. For a moment, no words were exchanged.
Akizuki took a dainty sip of sake.
Setting his cup down, he at last spoke up. "You know, you surprised me.
Never did I imagine that I would see you again, and of all places, at the
gates of the academy."
Kusaka blushed in embarrassment.
"I'm surprised you didn't see me sooner. I'm a frequent visitor at the
academy."
"Been making a complete pest of yourself
is more like it, but I do admire your persistence." Akizuki looked the
younger man straight in the eye. "I overheard you telling the guard that
you supported the opening of the country's borders. A curious thing for
a Choshu-jin such as you to say. Had a change of heart?"
"No. I told you before, when you
helped my friend and I escape. I've always supported the opening of the
country's borders. That night, I wanted to stop my comrades from pushing
through with their plot." Kusaka lowered his head in sorrow. "They never
listen to me."
"One of the misfortunes of being
an underling. Believe me, I know the sentiment. You know, to be very honest
with you, that first time I saw you, I knew you were different from the
other members of your overzealous faction. Isn't it a horrible thing to
have people who believe that violence is the only way to achieve one's
goals?"
Kusaka nodded thoughtfully as he
watched the other man pour him some sake and then take another sip from
his own cup. "I agree with you wholeheartedly. So, tell me�what did happen
to your hair?"
Akizuki nearly choked on his drink
at that query. Giving Kusaka a baleful glare, he remarked, "Here we are
talking politics and your head is still on my hair!"
"I can't help being curious!" Kusaka
declared defensively. "That first time we met, you didn't have a full head
of hair. Besides, it's unusual for a Shogunate man to be without a sohatsu."
Akizuki let out an undignified snort.
"The true worth of a man is not measured by his hair. But to answer your
question, I've never been comfortable wearing my hair that way. It doesn't
have anything to do with the fact that I presently function as a clerk
of sorts. It's just that I'm set in my ways, and I've always suffered because
of it."
"Why's that? Are you a member of
the Shinsengumi?"
"Definitely not, and the Shinsengumi
are not too fond of me either. My father is a Bakuhan administrator in
this town. I used to work with him in the town council since I know the
duties. However, since I'm being punished for a perceived transgression,
I had to give up my post."
Kusaka realized what 'transgression'
he was referring to. "Your punishment? It had something to do with that
night, isn't it? Because you allowed us to escape, you had to give up your
position in the council. Gomen nasai! If there's only some way that I could
make it up to you�."
"Oh, please don't chastise yourself
over it! I had no regrets. This way, I'm free to do whatever I want. In
a way, I am grateful to you and your friend. If it wasn't for your foolhardiness
that night, I wouldn't be free to study at the academy." A sly grin formed
on Akizuki's lips. "I must admit, though, that you saved me yet again,
this time, from a boring day of repeated lectures."
Kusaka's golden eyes twinkled like
stars at the mention of the academy. "I probably wouldn't get bored like
you. I like things to be repeated to me until I have everything committed
to memory. What do they teach you there anyway?"
"Science, History, Ethics, Mathematics
are some of the subjects we are being taught there."
"And? Is that all?"
Akizuki couldn't help but smile at
the eager anticipation reflected on the other man's face. In faux innocence,
he exclaimed, "Oh! Did I forget to mention that they're also teaching English
and Literature?"
Kusaka made a happy whoop, eliciting
a look of alarm from Murayama, who quickly glanced in the direction of
the kitchen. "I knew it! I knew it! Now, I'm more determined to get into
that damned academy! One of the classrooms has a tree standing outside
its window. Do you think I could hear the lessons from there if I hide
in one of its branches?"
"Probably." Akizuki grimaced at the
disturbing mind image of a happy-go-lucky Choshu samurai perched in a tree.
"Then, you'll be spotted by either a sensei, student or guard, and they'll
shoot you down from that same tree like a bird with a gun or an arrow.
When word of this incident reaches outside the academy walls, it will spark
more violent confrontations between the Bakuhan and the Choshu-han."
Hearing this, Kusaka was crestfallen.
The last thing he wanted was to incite more civil unrest. His shoulders
sagging in despair, he said dejectedly, "It's hopeless! I'm never going
to learn English!"
Akizuki couldn't help but feel pity
for the young man before him. Having been in the same position before,
he understood how great was the desire of a naturally curious mind for
knowledge. To deprive such a mind of learning was unthinkable.
There was a shimmer in those golden
eyes, and Akizuki realized that this proud warrior of the Choshu-han was
on the verge of tears. Not like earlier, when his honest smile shone with
the brilliance of the summer sun. A smile of precious hope that the emptiness
that had captured his heart for so long was filled with golden sunshine.
He had to restore this man's smile.
Laying down his cup on the table,
Akizuki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what. I
have a proposition for you. You can either take it or leave it."
"Whatever this proposition is," he
heard the other say, the undertone of deep curiosity apparent in his voice,
"would you please look at me when you tell me what it is? It would make
for a bad business arrangement if you can't measure the sincerity of the
man making the proposition through his eyes."
A small smile curled up the corners
of his lips, but he had no desire to lift his head. Not just yet.
"If you won't mind," Akizuki carefully
measured his words, "I would be very happy and willing to teach you English.
We could meet every afternoon after my classes at the academy. There's
a lovely spot near the riverbank. You won't miss it. There's a small sakura
tree growing at the top of the embankment. We could have all the privacy
we need there."
There was the loud thump of palms
hitting the tabletop.
"Really? Do you mean it? You'll teach
me English?"
"Take note that I am not a teacher
by profession. I will only be repeating to you what my sensei at the academy
taught me. I will also try my best to correct any errors in their teachings.
After all, the rules of English grammar are different from Japanese. Oh,
and if anyone at the academy should find out about this, remember. My sensei
absolutely knows nothing about our little arrangement."
"Oh, please! I'll do anything you
say! Just please, PLEASE teach me English! Not only will you have my heartfelt
gratitude, I will forever be indebted to you!"
Akizuki peered up to see the other's
head vigorously bowing again and again like a bobbing wooden woodpecker.
That jerky movement caused the tie of his ponytail to come undone that
waves of chestnut-colored silken threads tumbled down his shoulders.
"You don't owe me anything," Akizuki
declared, raising his hand to halt that dizzying movement. "It pleases
me that I could teach you English. Well, now that we have a deal, I think
we should make the proper introductions. My name is Akizuki Keiichirou."
At this point, Akizuki finally lifted
his head, his smoky gray eyes meeting bright amber ones. He was instantly
rewarded with a joyful smile that stole his breath away.
Kusaka, on the other, felt his heart
skip a beat, as Akizuki granted him an almost shy, but still warm smile.
Never had he seen such open sincerity on a man's lips.
"I'm Kusaka Touma, a humble soldier
in the Choshu-han. It's a pleasure to meet you," Kusaka cheerfully introduced
himself. Granting his new sensei and friend a playful wink, he added, "And
I like your hair better this way, Akizuki-san."
Akizuki slowly reached up and took
a chestnut lock in his hand, relishing the soft, silken threads rolling
between his fingertips.
Smiling, he told a blushing Kusaka,
"You have beautiful hair yourself, Kusaka-san." Sudden realization of what
he was doing made Akizuki pull back his hand. His cheeks coloring in abashment,
he cleared his throat, straightened up and said, "Anyway, I wouldn't be
too happy if I were you. I am very strict and I will expect you to do your
best."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about
a thing!" Kusaka reassured him, assuming a proud stance. "Kusaka Touma
always gives his best in everything he does! Mark my words! I'm the one
man whom you can truly rely on!"
So engrossed as the Choshu-jin in
bragging that he did not sense the slow approach of a petite, but very
angry figure.
Kusaka felt all his blood drain into
his socks as a furious voice exclaimed, "Oh, is that a fact? If you are
so reliable, tell me when you're going to pay up for all the meals you've
eaten!"
Whirling, the Choshu-jin samurai
grinned sheepishly at the pretty young woman who was glaring at him, her
arms akimbo. Akizuki was surprised to see that the proprietress of the
restaurant looked like his new friend. Behind the woman, Murayama was bowing
again and again, muttering, "Gomen! Gomen!"
"Please don't get mad, Yoriko-chan!"
Kusaka wheedled her. "I told you I'll pay for everything when I get my
wages."
"But that was two months ago! You're
ruining my business, you freeloading mulcter!"
"Yoriko-chan! Is that anyway to talk
to your Oniisan?"
"Don't you 'Yoriko-chan' me! Pay
up this instant, Oniisan, or else I'll tell Otousan and Okaasan!" Yoriko's
sharp eyes focused on the small meal and the bottle of their best sake
sitting on the table. Staring accusingly at her older brother, she demanded,
"Did you order these?" She even turned to a speechless Akizuki. "Did he
tell you that he's going to pay for this meal?"
"Er, actually�" Akizuki stammered,
feeling so intimidated by this formidable young lady. She was like a female
version of his brother Masakazu. "�He promised that he'd treat me to a
bottle of sake and�"
The Bakushin samurai and Yoriko turned
as one in the direction of the errant Kusaka, only to discover empty air
in the spot where he was standing.
Kusaka was already outside his sister's
modest establishment. Raising his right hand vertically in supplication,
Kusaka said, "Gomen nasai, Akizuki-san! I know I promised to buy you a
drink, but I never expected that I would see you again. I went to the academy
to study, so I didn't bring any money with me. Anyway�" He swiftly called
out to his seething younger sibling, "Put it on my tab, Yoriko-chan!",
and made his great escape before Yoriko could even think to run after him.
Yoriko slapped an exasperated hand
to her forehead. "Why wasn't I born an only child?" She then bowed to their
favorite customer in apology. "Gomen nasai! I sincerely apologize for my
Oniisan's irresponsible behavior." She dug an angry elbow into her husband
Kenji's abdomen. "Why didn't you tell me that the freeloader was here?"
Murayama could only raise both of
his hands helplessly, and he returned to the counter lest his beloved wife
decided to do him more physical harm.
"Kusaka-san's your older brother?"
Akizuki asked incredulously.
"Unfortunately, yes." Yoriko looked
curiously at the samurai. "You're a member of the Bakuhan, Akizuki-san.
How did you come to meet my good-for-nothing Oniisan?" She then asked in
grave concern, "He's not in any trouble with the Bakuhan, is he? We may
be Choshu-jin, but my parents and I don't approve of the company he keeps."
"Rest assured, it's nothing of that
sort," Akizuki eased her fears, deliberately not telling her of that dangerous
night when he and Kusaka first met. "He was begging to be admitted into
the academy so he could learn English." Reluctantly, he admitted, "I'm
afraid the guard was a little too rough on him."
"As if that's going to stop Oniisan.
You don't know how determined he is to learn English."
"Actually, I do. That's why I'm going
to teach him."
Hearing this, Yoriko's suspicions
were aroused once more, her pert eyes narrowing into slits. "I don't think
that's a good idea. Did Oniisan promise to pay you for English lessons?
I must tell you, that rascal never paid for anything in his life!"
A knowing smile went up Akizuki's
lips. "Aren't you exaggerating things a bit, Yoriko-san?"
Yoriko couldn't help but grin. "Maybe
just a little. But� You might have a hard time with my aniki. He's very
restless. He could never sit still in one place, more so focus his mind
on one thing. Oniisan may be interested in learning English now, but he's
likely to run away when the lessons become too difficult or too boring."
"That's because your aniki doesn't
have a focus, a goal or dream in which to pour all of his heart and soul
upon." Firm determination was mirrored on Akizuki's handsome face. "You'll
see, Yoriko-san. By the time I'm through with him, you'll see a very different
Kusaka-san standing before you."

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A Cicada In Winter