"Sooner or later, whoever's behind the usurpation will have to make some kind of 'divine' display affirming his claim to the throne... Having my own source of miracles will even the playing field somewhat."
Orchard-hand Sano is pulled from his small-town life to assist royal knight Hajime in restoring the usurped throne to Kenshin, the rightful king, and the two of them may find a connection beyond only this quest.
This story was last updated on February 25, 2020.
Chapter 1 - Heretics
Chapter 2 - Purpose and Awareness
Chapter 3 - Another Homeward Encounter
Chapter 4 - Not Stable
Chapter 5 - Warrior's Coma
Chapter 6 - The Defense of Eloma
Chapter 7 - Alleged Miracles
Chapter 8 - Departure
Chapter 9 - Egato 8ni Kasun
Chapter 10 - Torosa Forest Road
Chapter 11 - Proxy's Son
Chapter 12 - Yahiko's Burden
Chapter 13 - Enca Inn North
Chapter 14 - First Report: Kaoru, Tomoe
Chapter 15 - First Report: Megumi, Misao, Yumi
Chapter 16 - Nine Years Later
Chapter 17 - Second Report
Chapter 18 - The K
Chapter 19 - Tangles
Chapter 20 - Thirteen Years Ago
Chapter 21 - Third Report: Purple Sky
Chapter 22 - Third Report: Wishes That May Be Prayers
Chapter 23 - Wanted
Chapter 24 - Playing Thieves Guild
Chapter 25 - A Small Gathering of Malcontents
Chapter 26 - The Visitant
Chapter 27 - At the Sanctum Doors
Chapter 28 - Twitch
Chapter 29 - As-Yet-Unknown Powers
Chapter 30 - Unoppressed Light
Chapter 31 - Final Report
Chapter 32 - Known Powers
Chapter 33 - Before (or After) the Storm
Chapter 34 - Converging Forces
Chapter 15 – First Report: Megumi, Misao, Yumi
Megumi’s yellow gave him a headache. He supposed it was a cheerful color, especially as compared to Tomoe’s, but they’d so often used a harsh, eye-straining yellow rather than the soft pastel in which he usually saw the lady herself portrayed in paintings and the like… how could anyone live in these religious neighborhoods?
Today’s know-it-all was actually two know-it-alls, and Sano had quickly decided this was the best way to go about things. The old man, a doctor as were not a few followers of the lady of life, and his daughter of a more researching (if still medical) bent, were both reds and both extremely chatty; Sano could throw out a subject and get them talking, sit back and listen until the information he wanted came up, then insinuate another idea in order to send the conversation in a new direction.
He didn’t make it onto the plaza until late afternoon. The cheerful father-daughter combination took charge of his morning and lunch — which they insisted he eat with them and several others in a dining room in one of the devoted quarters — and didn’t get around to giving him much of a tour until they’d thoroughly worn out his ears with all sorts of information, useful and otherwise.
The woman — little more than a girl, really, even younger than Sano — explained enthusiastically about the work she was doing and the things she was learning and the results she and her mentor strove for in their research. If Sano was any judge, ‘mentor’ would not for very long describe what the other researcher was to her; and the father didn’t even seem upset at the idea of his daughter leaving the family at the age of seventeen.
As interesting as were the marital prospects of this complete stranger — and Sano really was interested (or at least more interested in that than in the largely incomprehensible medical-research talk) — it wasn’t what he was here for. Throughout the day and the various topics that had been discussed in his presence — not a few of them introduced by himself with a subtlety that rather pleased him — he’d gotten a pretty strong impression of what the general attitude was around here toward the kingdom’s new leadership, and he thought he could guess what the official stance was… but he wasn’t about to take a guess back to Hajime.
An afternoon bell had just rung, and Sano and his guides had been standing in silence on the plaza listening with varying degrees of respect to an elderly second-wash reciting a ritual prayer in the shadow of the great statue of Megumi that stood in the center of the pentagonal area. Sano was glad when the tedious kuumaruaya was finished, but, though he didn’t much like having to give the ritual response at the end as a good devoted must, he couldn’t say he regretted listening: the woman had said something in her prayer about ‘guidance toward the good of the kingdom,’ and Sano doubted any better opening for what he wanted to talk about was likely present itself.
“So…” He turned thoughtfully to his companions as if suddenly struck. “What is the official word from the bosses on ‘the good of the kingdom?’ On the new king, I mean?” He still didn’t much like having to ask directly, but at least this time he had some excuse.
At first, though, he feared he’d been too direct, when the young woman and her father exchanged a look he didn’t understand. But when the girl said, “Of course you wouldn’t have heard,” Sano decided he was probably fine.
“The official word is that it’s none of our business, and to carry on as usual,” the man told Sano in a low tone.
“But it’s hard to believe that’s really what they mean,” the girl added.
“Of course we do what they’ve officially told us to do,” said the father hastily.
“Of course,” agreed the girl. “But we’re still curious what’s their real opinion.”
“Why?” Sano broke in, knowing from the day’s prior experience that they might go on talking about this nonstop without providing that crucial detail.
“Shougo and Sayo,” the father answered, still in that hushed, gossipy tone. “The last I heard, nobody’s seen them this time for over a week.”
The girl said, “I heard it was going on two.”
Sano had picked up the mentioned names a few times that day, and was fairly certain he remembered correctly that Shougo and Sayo were brother and sister, and both golds; he didn’t dare ask for confirmation, though.
“Ever since the government change–” this was the polite term for ‘usurpation’ the wary had adopted– “they’ve been acting strange.”
“It started just then. We can’t believe it’s a coincidence.”
“They disappear for half a day, or even days at a time, and when they are around they’re distant and worried about something.”
“None of us–” it was clear from the accompanying gesture that this meant ‘none of us at the red and first-wash level’– “know what’s going on, but we’re all curious.”
“And worried! What if they’re trying to take part in some resistance or something right under Gensai’s nose?”
Sano couldn’t help asking, “Do you think they would?”
“I have no idea! To read the journals, you’d get the impression the whole house is pretty evenly divided, and there are some good points on both sides… but who knows what Shougo and Sayo think?”
“There was one journal — by Hanabi from Lotsu, I think — that made a very good point about the myths people commonly believe about heredity…”
“And that’s one thing,” Sano told Hajime, “that I had no idea Megumi people did: they write these journals. All of them are always writing journals, I guess, and then they tack them up in the buildings, and they all read them and talk about them. It’s weird.”
He’d managed to relay not quite so much unnecessary detail this time, and was disappointed to note that Hajime seemed less invested in the story. Was that because Sano’s sparser narrative had been less interesting, or in appropriate professional response to Sano’s appropriate professional terseness? There were still a lot of things about Hajime Sano just couldn’t figure out.
“Anyway,” he went on, “except for that thing about Shougo and Sayo, it felt just the same as all those people sitting around debating at the inn I was staying at: a lot of talk that’s never gonna go anywhere. It’s like they feel like they’ve done everything they need to as soon as they’ve written a journal about it, and then they can go back to whatever they were doing before.”
“Did you try to contact those two golds?” asked Hajime in a frowning tone.
“I thought about it…” By this time Sano had lain back down and was looking at the ceiling again. “But I thought, if they are part of some resistance or something, they’re doing a really shitty job keeping it secret, and I should probably stay away from them unless I have no other choice.”
A long moment of silence tempted Sano to sit up and see what expression might be on Hajime’s face, but he forced himself to remain as he was. He’d made a specific decision for reasons he thought were perfectly rational, and was ready to argue his point if Hajime wanted to condemn him. But eventually Hajime said, “We’ll keep them in mind, though.”
“Yeah.” Sano was more pleased than he could express at this unspoken approval, and his next statement, incongruously, came out sounding quite cheerful: “So word from Misao was pretty much the same…”
This was positively unbelievable. Sano had been assaulted with any number of new sights and experiences over the last few days, but this was by far the most astonishing of all of them. He could barely even begin to give credence to what he saw, and had to work to keep himself from shaking his head at regular intervals trying to get at the truth rather than this impossibility his eyes seemed to be presenting him.
Misao’s neighborhood looked nice.
It wasn’t just that they obviously didn’t mind using other colors as accents against that of their lady; it wasn’t just that, instead of slapping up any and every hue indiscriminately as paint availability allowed, as the devoted in the other religious districts seemed to have done, they had instead carefully combined variations on the color to the best possible effect; it wasn’t just that they avoided too much eye-straining use of the brighter, glowing end of that variability, keeping rather to more restful pastels and well-blended gradients for larger spaces and saving the more intense shades for drawing attention to details; it wasn’t just that they’d even occasionally allowed the building materials — usually stone, but sometimes a nicely-treated wood — to retain their natural hues instead of slathering paint all over every available surface to blare out their devotion to their lady…
It was all of this, and in addition the fact that they seemed to be better at it than anyone from Kaoru, Tomoe, or Megumi. Everything here had been done more adroitly, with a better eye to its effect and greater care for both its individual appearance and its coordination with other structures nearby. Sano would never have been able to believe it of orange; he’d been expecting this area of town to be the absolute worst. It was only after examining and admiring everything around him for more time than his overwrought brain could keep track of that he remembered Misao’s status as lady of the visual arts.
That she was also the lady of thievery he was reminded by being the victim of three pseudo-robberies before he even managed to have one real conversation with anyone.
The first pickpocket, a red about Sano’s age, got his attention by dropping a few coins into his hand with the statement, in a tone of greeting, “You’re a little too easy.” This remark (and its various possible interpretations) was so unexpected and strange, especially given that the speaker had essentially said it in passing, and when combined with the apparent gift of money out of nowhere so utterly bizarre, that Sano was more or less stunned for a few moments. It took several moments longer for him to realize the coins were his, and this, at least, prodded him out of his stupor. The pickpocket had returned exactly as much as he’d taken, Sano determined with a quick count, but how he’d gotten at Sano’s belt pouch without alerting him even in the slightest, Sano didn’t know.
What the second had to say was, “You’re making yourself a target, you know,” as she offered him his very own sword with a cheeky grin. Having thought he’d used all his capacity for astonishment today, what he felt at discovering someone had managed to unsheathe the weapon he wore without his beginning to notice overwhelmed him such that he was unable to say a word in reply. He just took the keonblade and stared as the first-wash winked at him and continued on her way.
“You must be new around here,” was the friendly, sympathetic comment of the third, a man perhaps ten years his senior, as he held up Sano’s entire belt-pouch in a gesture similar to what he might have used to return something Sano had accidentally dropped rather than something he’d somehow deliberately taken from him.
Trying not to gape at the man and probably failing, Sano accepted his belonging and struggled for words. Finally he managed, “Yes! And nobody did this back home!”
The red devoted laughed and clapped Sano on the back, disrupting for a moment the process of re-fastening the pouch at his waist. “You’d better get used to it; it’s tradition around here!” And thence he proceeded to make it obvious that he would be today’s know-it-all.
So interested was Sano in this bizarre tradition, and the nimbleness of finger that allowed the followers of Misao to carry it out, he didn’t feel the tiniest bit guilty about pursuing the topic with his new companion before he even started thinking about maneuvering the guy around to talking about Nenji, Misao’s white devoted, and what he and the other higher-wash might have had to say about Soujirou.
As fascinating as this had been to Sano, at the moment he decided Hajime didn’t need to hear about it, and restrained himself with great force of will from recounting it. All he said was, “They don’t officially care, and if they care underneath they’re pretending not to. But at Yumi I totally got lucky.”
Green was by far the most soothing of the five lady colors, and as such Yumi’s part of town looked better than anyone else’s except Misao’s. Which was not to say it looked good, just that there was a certain automatic benefit offered to the decor by the combination of coolness and relative brightness of the color. The devoted shiiyao, though, in their spectrum of red bleached to orange and warm yellow, did look rather jarring against it; still, he had to wear one.
To come across a red devoted in the proper state of solitude and apparent likelihood to recover well from a knock on the head had taken most of the day, so Sano hadn’t found his way into the green corner of the city until the sun had already sunk past the great walls and thrown everything into shadow; perhaps that skewed his opinion of the colors, but objective assessment of the decorating skills of the devoted was not what he was here for.
Knowing Yumi for the lady of love, Sano had somewhat expected to find her followers an unusually romantic lot, but just walking through her neighborhood didn’t give him any sign of this; there weren’t even any couples kissing in doorways or anything. But he did find that the unforeseen amount of music floating from down alleys, out of doorways, and off balconies, giving the entire walk a pleasant, cheerful feeling and reminding him that Yumi was also the lady of the performing arts, made up for this vague and not terribly important disappointment.
This neighborhood broke the trend by not supplying a know-it-all, but that might have been because Sano had wandered into it so late in the day… or perhaps merely because he ended up spending so little time there and not needing one at all. For as he was about to enter the plaza to see what kind of flower beds and statuary they had (and whether they might not, perhaps, have couples kissing in there), he happened to have his eye and ear caught by movement and conversation out around the side of the temple.
So, instead of going through the opening into the space surrounded by the great building, he followed the path that led to the left. He moved quietly at first, just in case this area was off-limits to reds or something, but soon saw it could not be: a wagon full of crates and packages of various shapes and sizes, which had been brought around to a side or back door of the temple, was being unloaded by a few legitimate reds while none other than the white devoted and one of her golds looked on.
Not yet having been in the capital very long, and having spent the entirety of his adult life in an orchard town some distance from the kingdom’s cultural hotspots, Sano had only a vague idea of what might or might not be in fashion at any given moment; he was pretty sure, in fact, that Eloma had always been at least five years behind the times when it came to shiiya cuts and sleeves and hoods. But even he could see that Yumi’s fourth-wash was about as fashionable as someone limited to a preselected religious outfit could be. From the ornament in her artfully-face-framing burgundy hair to the pointed bareness of her shapely legs to the interesting metallic spiral pattern on the otherwise black staff she held carelessly in one manicured hand, the word ‘chic’ seemed apropos — and that wasn’t a description Sano frequently employed. ‘Attractive,’ even — and he wasn’t generally attracted to women.
Busy in conversation, she didn’t even glance at Sano; but her third-wash companion, a short, bald, yellow-toothed man much less worth examining than his superior and a much less likely-looking follower of the lady of beauty, took immediate notice of him. Gesturing to the wagon he ordered, “Come on; give them a hand with this.”
Obeying, Sano at first had to stifle his annoyance at the apparent assumption on the old man’s part that he was either here for this purpose or at least had nothing else pressing to do; but this annoyance quickly faded as he realized he was suddenly in a uniquely advantageous position to eavesdrop on the white devoted’s relatively private discourse and hopefully find out what he needed to know without bothering about the type of circumspection he’d been wearying himself with in all the other divine neighborhoods.
So he quickly discovered where the items were being deposited, and thereafter dawdled as much as possible in retrieving new ones off the wagon in order to hear what he could of what the white had to say. The first partial statement he managed to catch was, “…have more important things to do than make sure all the little people are behaving themselves.”
“And you think I don’t?” The ugly man sounded rather grumpy about this.
Next was, “…need to be staying out of anything even a little bit political, all right?” Her somewhat low and gravelly voice had a pouty, almost teasing-sounding tone that it was no wonder her subordinate didn’t seem to be taking entirely seriously. “It’s none of our business.”
And the third statement, apparently in response to something perhaps somewhat rude from the gold, was, “…just the same thing from another angle! We won’t be making a commotion on either side of the issue, so of course I’ll do what…”
When Sano next emerged, it was to the sound of the gold’s surly complaint, “…at the palace as much as possible so you can socialize.”
“I think you’re jealous,” the white replied pertly; evidently taking direct criticism from her lower-wash didn’t bother her much. “And anyway that has nothing to do with it. Usurper or not, the Devoted Council was a fabulous idea.”
At that moment her eyes lighted on the package wrapped in paper and string that Sano had just extracted from the wagon. “Ah, there it is!” she cried in delight, and ran forward to take it from him; obviously she’d only been waiting around out here for this, and the conversation had probably been intended merely to pass the time until what she wanted from the delivery was unearthed.
As the object was quite heavy for its size, Sano warned, “You’re gonna need two hands for this.”
She gave him a smile that managed to be both condescending and flirtatious at once, and said, “You must be new.” Then she took the parcel lightly in her free hand, spun it deftly a couple of times on two fingers, winked at the now-gaping Sano, and turned with swaying hips to walk away.
Sano didn’t actually narrate quite to the end of this scene, since that last bit had been a little embarrassing and definitely not important. And anyway, Hajime broke in, this time sounding somewhat frustrated, when Sano reached the last item of interest Yumi’s gold had mentioned: “What is this ‘Devoted Council?'”
“Almost there,” Sano said in reply. “I saved the best for last. Well, it happened last, too. Since I pretty much had exactly what I wanted to know just from that, I went back to the inn instead of wandering Yumi’s neighborhood. And while I was sitting there eating supper…”
The low, tense chatter filling the common room was growing downright frustrating. After six nights of keeping his ears pricked for any signs of actual resistance against the usurper and hearing only a lot of directionless and often very ill-informed back-and-forth, Sano was sick of listening. He would be glad to leave Elotica in the morning, even if the part of his report regarding the types of things being discussed in the common room of a large inn would be obnoxiously disappointing.
The one thing that could be said for the ongoing intense discussion was that it allowed a stranger disinterested in interaction at this venue to sit at the bar in solitude and eat his supper without being accosted by anyone for whatever reason. Or, at least, it had up until now. A hand on his shoulder was the first indication anyone here was paying attention to him, and it came almost in conjunction with the quiet statement from behind him, “I knew I’d be running into you pretty soon here.”
Startled, very worried about who could possibly have recognized him in the capital so far from home, Sano turned swiftly to see whose hand might soon need to be broken if it didn’t immediately vacate his shoulder. Hopefully they’d mistaken him for a friend and could be quickly turned away. But his growling reply died in his throat when he saw who it was, and no other sound replaced it there for a long moment.
Chapter 16 – Nine Years Later
“Katsu?!” He said it overloudly, but he didn’t care. He’d jumped from his stool at last and seized both of his old friend’s shoulders in his pleasure and sudden surprise. “Holy fuck! What are you doing here?”
Katsu, who looked so much like an older version of what Sano specifically remembered that it was almost comical, gave him the same serious smile he’d always used to. “I’ve been living in Elotica almost two years now,” he said. “If you weren’t such a poor correspondent, you’d know that, but I haven’t had a letter from you since before I left Encoutia! A better question is: what are you doing here?”
This better question was enough to remind Sano forcibly of his situation; he glanced about in some concern to see whether he’d attracted any attention. It didn’t seem he had; excited reunions of old friends were probably tolerably common around here. Trying to think how to answer, he cleared his throat.
“I see that’s not a better question.” Katsu’s tone had dropped as he followed Sano’s somewhat paranoid gaze around the room. “Anyway, I have a letter for you.”
This recaptured Sano’s full attention. “What..?”
Katsu released Sano’s shoulder and slid onto the stool beside his. As Sano retook his abandoned place before his cooling supper, Katsu was pulling a small scroll from his sleeve; Sano accepted it in growing confusion.
For Sano, care of Katsuhiro the printmaker’s apprentice, was the cramped direction. Sano looked up from it to Katsu with knitted brows. “You’re a printmaker’s apprentice now?” It was a stupid thing to ask first, but at the moment he was torn inside between continued pleasure at seeing his friend again and wonder at the circumstances attending it. “But who could have possibly known we’d run into each other…?”
“It was delivered yesterday by a letter carrier,” Katsu answered; the look on his face seemed to convey much the same frame of mind as Sano’s. “I’ve been dying of curiosity ever since. Oh, and, yes,” he added as a sort of aside, “I am the printmaker’s apprentice. Though I think I’ve learned more than he ever knew, and it’s about time for me to move on.”
Sano wasted no more time in opening and reading the message. The handwriting inside, though a little crowded on the small paper, was neat enough — certainly neater than his own — and something about it, from the very beginning, struck him as familiar, though he knew he’d never seen it before. When he realized almost immediately whom the scroll was from, he thought he understood this impression, and he read with increasing wonder.
I’m sorry I I apologize for running off, but you have to understand how I was sure it was going to end up. What was I supposed to do? The ladies don’t take sides in politics, so should I really? I’m sorry I yelled at you. I think you’re really my friend, but it’s too bad you don’t believe in the ladies. They can help you a lot. They comfort you, like I told you, and they tell you things you need to know — like where to send a letter — and they warn you of danger and stuff. But it’s not my job to convince you, I guess. I hope I see you again sometime when you’re not with that jerk anymore and not working on stuff I shouldn’t be involved with. Stay safe. –Yahiko
Preceding the words ‘that jerk’ there was a fairly neat round blotch, as if Yahiko had started to write Hajime’s name, realized this could potentially put him and Sano in danger, and completely eradicated what characters he’d already formed. Sano rather thought Yahiko must think him the bigger jerk, in any case — and the forgiveness in this message, only implied though it was, meant more to him than he would have expected.
Katsu, invoking a privilege of friendship that, even after all these years apart, Sano did not begrudge him, had moved around to look over Sano’s shoulder and read the letter at the same time he did. Now he wondered quietly, “Who in the world is this?”
Slowly Sano dragged his eyes away and looked his friend over. Really, it was almost unbelievable how little Katsu had changed, at least visually, in the last nine years. His face and body were those of an adult now, of course, and a touch more angular, but he still had his hair cut the same way, and a gaze just as dark and serious as ever. It was as if he’d already been, back then, what he intended to be for the rest of his life, and had no reason thereafter for any alteration.
“Well, sit down, and I’ll tell you,” Sano commanded. And as Katsu obeyed, Sano began his tale in the quietest tone Katsu would still be able to hear. “Back home — in Eloma, you know — I was on my way home from somewhere, through the forest, and I ran into this kid…”
Having no idea who might overhear him despite his efforts at quiet, he decided reluctantly that, just for the moment, he probably shouldn’t mention Hajime even obliquely, nor the real reason he’d come to Elotica and what he was doing here. So he made Yahiko the focus of his story, didn’t specify the identity of the attackers the kid had helped him fight off, gave the impression that the journey to Elotica had been started on a whim or perhaps in response to his annoyance at Seijuurou’s attitudes, and generally managed to give an account with more holes than actual substance, finishing up with, “…and this is the first I’ve heard from him since.”
Katsu was shaking his head slowly and gravely. “Poor kid,” he remarked.
“‘Poor kid?'” echoed Sano in some irritation. He didn’t like withholding so much from his friend, but would quickly get over it if Katsu continued making comments like that. “He’s a little brat who hears voices and messes with people’s heads!”
With a wan smile Katsu said gently, “Sano, whether you believe in the ladies or not, it’s obvious from your story — and that letter! — that the kid has some real power. You can’t just ignore that.”
“That’s what we–” Quickly Sano caught himself, remembering there shouldn’t be any ‘we’ involved in his narrative at this point. “Well, but it doesn’t make up for…” But Yahiko hadn’t ever really done anything wrong, except as far as clinging to the traditional brainwashing of a naïve and repressive religion counted — which, to Sano, had always been quite a bit… Yahiko, however, was a little different. He hadn’t tried to force anything on Sano, and, in fact, had seemed pleased that Sano had real reasons for what he did and didn’t believe. He’d been reasonable about the church, too. Sano sighed.
“You thought you’d found somebody just like you, didn’t you? Some orphan who’d lost faith at the same age you had.” Katsu sounded sympathetic, and annoyingly certain of his speculation. “That’s why this bugs you so much; you thought you’d found a kindred spirit, and then it turned out he was actually almost the opposite.”
“You’re way too fucking smart for your own good, you know that?” Sano turned fully to face his friend with a skeptical and not entirely happy smile.
“Yeah, I know,” said Katsu dismissively. “Now think how the kid must feel.”
“You’re just standing up for him because his mom sounds exactly like yours,” Sano grumbled.
“Well, that might be a coincidence, and it might not. But, no, that’s not why I’m standing up for him. Think about it. All that stuff he said to you — I’m sure it’s true: people who are different always have a hard time. No wonder he lied to you when he realized you were a heretic! He’s probably taken every kind of abuse you can imagine since his dad died; how was he supposed to know you wouldn’t treat him even worse because of what he was and what you were?”
“Ladies, don’t lecture me, Katsu!” In some frustration Sano leaned his face on his hand. Why had he thought Katsu might be on his side? Hell, why had he thought he had a side? Were there sides in this? Why should there be sides? It was just a matter of being driven apart from someone he might have cared about by their drastically different beliefs. “I’m not really mad at him or nothing,” he admitted with another sigh. “But…” He tried to put into words one of the many things that had been bothering him about Yahiko. “If he’s so powerful, why would he let anyone treat him bad? If I could fight like that when I was his age, nobody would’ve ever kicked me around.”
Now Katsu grinned nostalgically. “I can only imagine,” he said with a slight laugh. “Not that I can remember anyone ever kicking you around, back in Encoutia, at least.” He sobered again as he continued. “But people are different, you know? You might have had the courage to use power like that whenever you wanted, if you’d had it, but it seems like he’s afraid of everyone. He hasn’t been able to trust anyone since his parents, so all he knows how to do is run away. He’ll learn one of these days he can’t keep running his whole life, and then he won’t get kicked around anymore either.”
Weakly, helplessly, Sano smiled. “You’re still a damn know-it-all. I barely told you about this kid and now you’re analyzing his deepest fears and everything…”
Katsu shrugged with a faint smile of his own, and turned his attention toward his drink.
Unrolling the little letter again, Sano reread it. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I think you’re really my friend, it said. And he couldn’t help wondering whether if he hadn’t once had a brother Yahiko’s age he would have cared quite so much.
Not wanting to think about Yahiko anymore, “So how about this new king business?” Sano asked at length.
Katsu didn’t look up from his cup, but his sigh was audible and Sano could see the lowering of his brows. In as quiet a tone as Sano had used for his potentially dangerous story, he said, “Kenshin was never a strong enough king for my tastes, but he at least tried. The only reason to seize power from him would be to make certain immediate changes to the bureaucracy. Soujirou’s not doing anything of the sort… he has no reason for what he’s doing, as far as I can tell.”
Sano tried to move unobtrusively, casually, as he edged toward the left side of his stool and leaned a little closer to Katsu. “You think there’s someone behind him, right?”
“But not Gontamei.”
Finally Katsu looked over at him, appearing surprised and pleased. “Sano, I’m proud of you! I never thought I’d see you paying attention to politics. No, not Gontamei… someone in one of the divine houses. Or someones in some of the divine houses.”
“Not Kaoru, though.”
Katsu returned his attention to his mostly empty drink. “Don’t be too sure of that… those girls’ loyalty to Kenshin could be for show.”
“Well, you seem to know a lot.”
Again Katsu nodded.
“Anything interesting?” There was no way for Sano to keep his tone casual; Katsu was bound to pick up that he had a stake in this beyond simple curiosity.
Whether or not Katsu did, he seemed ready enough to share what he knew. “Have you heard what our new king’s first official act was?” At Sano’s shake of head he went on, “He started this thing he calls the Devoted Council… It’s just like it sounds: a devoted from each house sit council to the king. Supposedly it’s ‘to ensure the king’s decisions are in keeping with the will of the ladies,’ but obviously it really comes from whoever in the divine houses is backing him — to make sure they have a say in the rule of the country. Probably a damn big say.”
“Shit.” Sano tried not to look too dark or pensive at this, but knew he was failing. “Thanks for that news.”
“I’m not going to ask questions you don’t want to answer, Sano,” said Katsu carefully, “but if you need any help, let me know, all right?”
“So that pretty much confirms it’s the divine houses behind this, doesn’t it?” was how Sano finished this account of his reunion with Katsu. Including so much detail hadn’t bothered him this time, not only because he’d been so pleased with the circumstance but because Katsu had given him so much useful information. Honestly he wished he’d run into him a lot sooner during his trip into the city.
“It is another good indicator,” Hajime agreed.
“And having Katsu around will be useful.”
“Are you sure you can trust him?”
Sano had sat up abruptly in response to Hajime’s statements so many times during this conversation that now he decided just to stay upright. “What do you mean?” he demanded as he slid until his back touched the wall. “This guy’s my best friend!”
Hajime threw a slightly skeptical look a Sano’s legs, which now protruded into space off the edge of the bed. “Your best friend whom you haven’t seen in nine years.”
“Hey, I wrote to him!” Sano protested.
“Only occasionally, from what you just said.”
“Yeah, well…” Even a hint that he might not be able to trust Katsu disturbed him, and Sano couldn’t help being annoyed at Hajime for suggesting it. That idea was, however, perfectly reasonable, and one that needed to be suggested at this point. Sano had fallen into such easy camaraderie with his old friend, just as if they’d never been separated, he’d almost automatically begun thinking of him as he had before: as someone with whom he could share anything, someone that would have his back in any scenario… but the truth was he didn’t really know Katsu anymore, and couldn’t say with any surety that Katsu would be on his side in any given situation.
Hajime seemed to recognize Sano’s understanding, for he only said, “Just be careful.”
Glumly Sano nodded.
After he’d allowed Sano to stew for a minute or two in doubt, Hajime remarked pensively, “This Devoted Council…”
Responding to the disapproval in the brief phrase, Sano said, “Yeah, as if the church needed more say in people’s lives.”
“Politically it’s a good move. It gives an impression of piety and tractability… and it will make people wonder why Kenshin never did something like it.”
“Yeah, but, seriously… more religious influence?”
Hajime shook his head.
With a frustrated sigh Sano tried to recall what was left of his report. “Royal knights,” he remembered. And at the attentiveness with which Hajime immediately looked at him, Sano felt a little bad having to admit, “I’ve got practically nothing. I heard some talk about you — pretty admiring talk, too, you should be glad to know — and I think at least one of the others is dead–”
Sano gave a gesture of helplessness. “Problem is, Soujirou’s got a lot of guys running around who he’s calling royal knights now, so just listening in to conversations is really confusing because you never know who they mean when they say ‘royal knight.’ And that’s already assuming people know what they’re talking about in the first place. But the rumors I heard most said three knights ran off and one was dead; nothing on the last guy.”
“Who?” Hajime muttered intensely, clearly not expecting Sano to answer this time.
Honestly Sano wished he could… these were Hajime’s companions they were discussing, possible allies in the present cause, and maybe even the knight’s friends (if such a word could apply to any relationship of Hajime’s); it was only natural he would want to know what had become of them specifically. Unfortunately, Sano had never felt safe asking direct questions of anyone he thought might actually have the information; the rumors he’d already relayed were the best he could provide.
“Sorry,” he found himself saying, rather unexpectedly. “Maybe there’ll be better stuff later.”
“And I assume if you weren’t able to find out much about the royal knights, you found out even less about Kenshin.”
“Nothing,” Sano confirmed. “Lots of people are wondering where he is, but of course if anyone knew, they probably wouldn’t have been saying it where some random guy like me listening in could hear it.”
Appearing simultaneously annoyed and as if this was exactly what he’d been expecting, Hajime nodded again. “So,” he said darkly, “we still know next to nothing about what’s actually going on, and we have no advantage.”
“Hey–” Sano was a little stung by his demeanor and its implications– “that’s not my fault!”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Yeah, well, you looked it.”
Hajime mostly ignored this. “We do know we should focus more on the divine houses than the royal families, and that’s a beginning, at least.”
“A beginning,” Sano repeated. “Sure.” It was a grumble, but there was the dullness of weary disappointment to it as well. He should have known even so many days of effort with no reward and possibly in constant danger, definitely bored and annoyed much of the time, still wouldn’t impress or even satisfy the chief of the royal knights.
But it didn’t really matter, he reminded himself. His reason for coming, for doing what he’d been doing, had been to assist in his patriotic duty and get some of his own back against Soujirou, not to impress Hajime. Well, maybe it had been a little of all three. Not necessarily in that order.
“A beginning is more than we had before,” Hajime admitted, to Sano’s minor gratification. “But you’ll have to go back tomorrow.”
Sharply Sano nodded. “And I can get a little more specific on everything. Drop the royal families, find out more about Shougo and Sayo, that sort of thing.”
With an assessing glance, perhaps somewhat pleased, Hajime also nodded.
“And for now, I can relax for a while. What is there to do around here for a guy who’s not busy spying out shit in the city?”
At this, Hajime turned slowly from him with a sigh and looked out the window again.
Following the direction of Akemi’s gesture through the smoke of the low-lit common room, Imau looked toward a nearby table where a small group of sailors sat around a communal supper pot. The animation of their discussion had grown since Imau had last glanced in that direction, and some of it was becoming audible.
“–wouldn’t wait to raise the colors if mine was faster,” a disreputable-looking woman with cropped hair was saying. “Let them see the flag and waste their energy abouting to run; they’ll be that much less prepared for being grappled.”
Nodding to Akemi, who immediately slipped around to the other side of the table in question, Imau slid off her stool and approached even as one of the other sailors laughed and said, “But most pirates aren’t so bright.”
“And what would you do if I ran you through with my sword?” Imau had approached to immediately behind the short-haired woman, drawing her weapon a few inches so the hilt pressed into the sailor’s back.
“I think it would depend on where you ran me through.” The woman had stiffened, but her voice held no fear. The five others at the table were warily eyeing Imau — and Akemi, who had mimicked the princess’ movements on the other side. “Somewhere lethal, I’d probable just die. Anywhere else, I’d probable roll around on the floor crying and screaming.”
Imau couldn’t help but be slightly amused at this candid answer, not to mention a little thrown off: she wasn’t quite sure what to say next, and her pause gave the woman a chance to add, “Why are we running me through, now?”
This, in turn, created the opening Imau needed. “It’s no more than any pirate deserves,” she replied harshly.
Somewhat to her chagrin, all of the strangers began to laugh. A few, probably in response to the seriousness in Imau’s tone, attempted to restrain this reaction, or at least to conceal it behind their hands or by looking away. But the woman Imau had at swordpoint numbered among those openly showing her entertainment.
“Noru, that’s your fault for talking like that right out where anyone can hear you,” another at the table chuckled.
“You’re right, you’re right,” the woman called Noru admitted, her laughter calming. Tilting her head back slightly, she addressed Imau. “Mistre, I’m glad to see someone trying to do something about the pirate problem. But it’s not bad enough yet that you’ll find pirates open discussing piracy in public in an Encoutia inn.”
“Of course not,” Imau replied dryly. “Only honest sailors honestly discussing what they might do if ever they should happen to turn pirate… which could happen tomorrow or the next day, depending on when they next cross paths with a rich and underprotected vessel.”
This accusation brought most of the sailors in the blink of an eye from amused to annoyed. But while at least half of them were shifting in their seats, evidently ready at least for an argument if not for a fight, Noru remained perfectly still against the hilt of Imau’s sword. When she replied, however, her voice was quieter and more serious than it had been before. “I’m not going to take offense at that because it’s true that all this pirate activity late has made more and more ships that were honest decide it’s all right just to do a little pillaging on the side, because nobody’s like to notice it with real pirates about… but I think you should ask around about people you meet at inns before you go accusing them of things.”
“Well, then, we’ll see what the bartender has to say about you,” Imau replied, lightening neither her tone nor her grip, gesturing with her free hand at Akemi as she spoke. The knight nodded and withdrew, making her way across the room to find out what she could about this particular group of people.
“If we was pirates,” the man Akemi had been prodding in the back grumbled during the ensuing silence, “it’d be six on two. I can’t think what you misses are thinking.”
“We have no worries on that score,” Imau answered. “Six or sixty; it makes no difference.” This bravado far overstepped her actual personal policy — for, while she was reasonably certain she and Akemi together could handle six only moderately skilled opponents at once, she definitely didn’t want to… especially given the impossibility of knowing they were only moderately skilled. And sixty was out of the question.
This raised another laugh from nearly every throat at the table. Only Noru and the man across from her that had introduced the topic held their peace. The man was grizzled, probably in his forties, and had the typical leather-skinned look of a sailor for life; his expression was dour and sardonic.
Noru, on the other hand, though Imau couldn’t get a good look at her face at this angle, seemed only to be refraining from laughter out of prudence. She did, however, casually as if merely to pass the time until Akemi returned, make the comment, “And if we were pirates, and even if six on two is no problem for you, what good would it do threatening us? Even if you killed us all–” here her confederates shifted a little nervously, as if merely hearing these words would bring down the fate referred to upon them– “it wouldn’t help with the larger problem.”
Immediately Imau contradicted, “Every pirate’s death helps with the larger problem,” and hoped it didn’t show how very aware she was of the truth in the woman’s statement.
“And how many pirates have you killed so far?” Noru wondered.
“I haven’t counted.” Technically the truth — it wasn’t really necessary to count to zero.
Noru saw through her, it seemed. “When you do start counting,” she said softly, “my condolences.”
Imau didn’t like the atmosphere; she got the feeling that she, who was doing the threatening and should have this situation completely under her personal control, was being talked down to. But before she could demand to know what Noru meant by that remark or come up with some statement calculated to remind the woman of her current position, the princess caught sight of her knight returning through the crowd. Akemi noticed Imau watching her, and shook her head.
Stifling a sigh, Imau turned back to the table. Pressing the hilt in her hand more firmly into Noru’s back just for a moment, she said harshly, “Just hope you’re not in that count.” Then she let her weapon slide completely into its sheath and stepped away.
Akemi joined her at another table not three paces from the sailors. This one stood near the wall, and both women put their backs to the latter in order to face the group they’d been harassing. They must make sure they didn’t appear to be retreating, and that the group knew it was still under surveillance.
“The innkeeper happened to be down just when I went over there,” Akemi informed quietly. “Both she and the bartender vouched for them. They’re all from a ship called Yujuui Nikamoru under a captain named Ryuutei. The innkeeper even mentioned his family, but I’ve already forgotten it.”
The sailors had been glancing somewhat uneasily at Imau and Akemi from time to time — all but Noru, who would have needed to turn completely around in her chair to do so — and now one of them rose abruptly as if to make a hasty exit. Noru reached out a hand to touch her companion’s forearm and said something that induced the other sailor to resume her seat.
Again Imau shook her head. “It’s not important.” And now she let free the sigh she’d been restraining. “She was right… we’re not going to find any real pirates this way.”
“But it’s like you said,” reassured Akemi: “with encounters like this, word will get around that pirates are in disfavor. We don’t necessarily need to find any, as long as they realize they’re being hunted.”
“But will that accomplish anything other than sending them into hiding?” Imau murmured. She’d noticed something she’d missed before, and stared at it thoughtfully as she spoke: the shady-looking Noru had one of her legs, bootless, bandaged from the knee down.
“I thought that was the point — not to actually fight pirates. Or are you having second thoughts?”
Imau tore her eyes from where they’d been absently running over and over the shadowy form of the crutch that lay beneath Noru’s chair and table, glancing at her friend with a smile. “You’d prefer to be at home in bed, wouldn’t you?”
Akemi returned the smile with a broader one. “Well, there is that… but if you think I regret this chance to wear something other than a royal knight’s shiiya in public, you’re mistaken.”
With a chuckle, Imau put her hands behind her head and leaned back against the wall. “I should have known.”
Silence followed as they both watched not only Noru’s group but the rest of the room as well. The impression of having failed rather pathetically expanded moment by moment in Imau’s consciousness, however, and eventually she was forced to comment on it. “They weren’t intimidated.”
“No, I don’t think they were.” Akemi, whose eyes had been squinting somewhat as they traversed the bar across the room, fixed her gaze once again on the nearby sailors. “They don’t seem like fighters, most of them… why should they be so confident?”
With a wan smile, “Confident in their honesty, I suppose,” Imau remarked. She thought it helped that Noru, who seemed to be a leader or at least someone with considerable influence among them, was obviously of a firm, calm temperament. “I don’t know that it’ll be any use to us even if they do bother to tell anyone about this.”
“Shall we find someone else to threaten?” Akemi suggested. “Another place, maybe?”
The acquiescence halted on Imau’s lips when she saw Noru rise slowly and turn toward them. Even the short walk between one table and the next was evidently an inconvenience in the sailor’s current state, but Noru didn’t bother to retrieve her crutch for such a negligible distance. She stopped, all her weight poised on her good foot, just before them, surveying them with a neutral expression. “May I join you?”
Taking her first good look at Noru’s face straight on, Imau didn’t immediately reply. The sailor was younger than she’d thought, less weather-beaten than she’d expected, and a good deal prettier than she could have imagined any sailor likely to be. Finally the princess nodded.
“I’d like to know what you’re up to here,” Noru explained as she settled onto the bench across from Imau. “You can’t serious think you’re going to do any good threatening random people.”
Akemi’s glance at Imau was subtle; she was evidently not entirely sure they could trust this woman, the reassurances of the bartender and innkeeper notwithstanding. Imau, however, had an odd feeling about this Noru, growing gradually as her previous sensation of failure had — for some reason she couldn’t pinpoint, she found she shared the confidence she’d mentioned before: that this was an honest person. Whether it was a good idea to believe in this inexplicable instinct she wasn’t sure, however… still, she had to say something…
A few moments’ respite were granted her as a barmaid appeared at the table. All offers of refreshment had been turned away since Imau and Akemi had bought their obligatory drinks shortly after entering; not having seen this particular girl tonight, Imau assumed she was just starting her shift and therefore unaware that they didn’t need anything.
Or did they? The moment the impulse arose, she acted on it. “Shall I buy you a drink?” she asked Noru. “As my apology?”
Noru had a finely-shaped pair of lips the color of a fading sunset, and these moved slightly for a moment, as if indecisive, before curving into a smile. “I wouldn’t say no to a suts’giru,” she replied.
Though not much of a drinker herself and not terribly happy with Noru’s choice, Imau turned to the barmaid with the order, “Two sutsugiruou, if you please.”
Barely sparing Imau a glance in favor of the apparently much more interesting Akemi, the barmaid confirmed this order. “And what’ll you be having?” The girl’s tone and expression, especially when combined with the unnecessarily sharp angle at which she bent past Imau and Noru to address the shapely, muscular knight, made the direction of her thoughts all too evident.
Akemi, however, was disinterested in women to the point of being completely oblivious to their advances, and requested the house specialty without even appearing to notice the not-unattractive cleavage the girl had gone out of her way to display. The barmaid, with the characteristic resilience of her profession, departed to fetch their order seeming undiscouraged.
With the barmaid gone, Imau could once again see Noru’s companions at their table without craning her neck, and couldn’t help noticing that the sailors seemed to be watching this table avidly — a few occasionally trying to pretend they weren’t, but most unabashedly staring.
“Your people aren’t happy,” Imau said to Noru in a low tone.
Noru threw a stern glance over her shoulder before answering. “I’m in dry dock for the moment until I’m on both my feet again,” she explained. “They’re sure I’m going to overdo things and buy myself some extra time on land.”
“You don’t seem terribly reckless to me,” Imau remarked.
“I certain don’t go around threatening to run innocent strangers through with a sword.”
Imau had to smile at this, and easily made the decision she’d been putting off before; it wasn’t as if her objective on these nighttime treks must be kept strictly secret at any rate. “I’m afraid piracy is beginning to be recognized as a legitimate profession,” she began seriously, “the same way thievery has been in the past. If pirates get that kind of foothold among the working class, they’ll be five times as difficult to get rid of. I’m not here to fight pirates; I’m here to fight the idea that pirates are welcome in public establishments, that piracy will be tolerated by the average citizen. My goal is just to get the word spread, nothing more.”
Noru had listened with an expression of growing skepticism, though not necessarily of displeasure. After Imau finished, she sat silently for a moment before demanding, “Who are you? ‘The working class?’ ‘The average citizen?’ You talk like a noblewoman.”
Resisting the paranoid urge to check the bandanna she wore beneath her hood as added protection against anyone recognizing her by the color of her hair, Imau shook her head slightly. “It’s not really important.”
Noru studied her with calculating brown eyes. “But now you’ve made me curious,” she admitted. “Are you a noblewoman? Or some merchant whose shipping business is suffering?” She raised a hand to rub thoughtfully at her jawbone with two fingers.
Imau allowed her to guess, answering only with a slight laugh that she did not extend because it sounded a little too nervous for her tastes.
“I’ve dealt with all the big merchants in town,” Noru went on, “but I haven’t seen you before, and I’d remember a face like yours.”
Finding herself blushing slightly at this, Imau pushed away the urge to ask whether that was supposed to be a compliment, and still said nothing.
“The smaller companies are suffering even more than the big ones, though,” mused the sailor, “and you might–” But here the barmaid returned with their drinks.
“Suts’giru for you mistres,” she announced in an exaggerated fashion, setting down the cups; then, instead of leaning past the two of them again, she circumnavigated Noru and stood directly across the table from Akemi. “And for the fine warrior, house angiruou.” She put one foot up on the bench, allowing her shiiya to slide backward along her thigh a few inches. Leaning on the pretty bare knee that showed thus above the level of the table, she bent forward and added the cleavage that had been so blithely ignored on her previous visit to the alluring picture. “Anything else for you, mistress?” she enunciated pointedly.
And still Akemi didn’t notice. “Nothing for me. You two need anything else? What’s so funny?” For she’d turned to her two companions and noticed that something seemed to be amusing them unaccountably.
“No, nothing else right now,” Imau said, shooting a sympathetic look at the barmaid. The latter, straightening, appeared more annoyed than disappointed, and, smoothing out her shiiya, turned abruptly and left them without a word.
“Back to the topic at hand.” Noru removed her skeptically amused eyes from Akemi and fixed them on her drink. Imau didn’t have long to wonder whether the topic at hand was her identity or how to deal with piracy, for Noru continued with the simple statement, “I like this idea of yours. Everyone helps as they can, right? We sailors fight off the pirates as we have to, if we can, and keep from turning to it ourselves… merchants buy only from verified dealers… and the nobility up at the palace do… whatever it is they do to try to solve problems in the city… but what about everyone else? You seem to have found the solution.”
Not sure whether to smile at this apt summary of the situation or frown at the slight implication that she and the other ‘nobility up at the palace’ were doing very little to help at the moment, Imau did at least nod.
“But how many of you are there at this? You and your subujinsh’wai here seem fair formidable, but with only two of you…”
Prior to this, Akemi’s eyes had been turned away from the two of them, still surveying the rest of the room; she had undoubtedly been listening to the exchange, but had deferentially given no indication thereof. Now she turned her gaze, somewhere between skeptical and startled, on Noru. “How ever did you figure that?”
Noru chuckled. Imau refrained from laughing aloud at her bodyguard, and instead, disregarding Akemi’s confusion, answered Noru’s question. “Unfortunately, it is only the two of us. I came up with this plan, and my friend agreed to take part it in with me, but that’s as far as it goes.”
The sailor seemed to ponder over a pull at her drink. Finally she remarked, “Have you tried recruiting?”
Uncomfortably Imau admitted, “No. Anyone doing this has to be able to hold their own in a fight if things go wrong, so that eliminates many potential allies.”
“Not necessary.” Noru glanced over at the other table. “My crewmates, for example, are fair fighters — just sailors’ skills, mind — and as a group could undoubted take on most threats to be found in public places. Some of them even enjoy a good brawl,” she added with a sardonic smile.
“Are you volunteering to suggest this to them?” the princess wondered, trying to remain calm and diplomatic but in reality surprised and excited.
“I think I am.”
In a measured tone, Imau replied, “I appreciate that. But may I ask why you’re willing to help me when you’ve only just learned about this?”
Noru leaned forward and looked into Imau’s face. Her shapely eyes ran up and down the royal features, and Imau found herself blushing again. She wondered if Noru recognized the cosmetics she wore to darken her brows and lashes. She wondered what else Noru saw there.
“Seems like,” Noru said at last, “you feel some responsibility to do this. I respect that, and I admire your consideration for people who can’t fight. I figure ‘the average citizen’ has a responsibility too, and that’s me.”
“Then it looks like I’m not the only one here worthy of respect and admiration.” This came out somewhat breathless as Imau stared into the brown eyes opposite her.
Noru chuckled. “You’re a noblewoman; no doubt about that.” And when Imau had no response to this besides a slightly deeper blush, she went on. “I’d like to see you in action instead of from the other side of your sword. Let me talk to my people, and then let me join you to wherever you go next.”
Here Akemi put in, “You’re incapacitated,” and Imau had regretfully to agree.
“I’ll stand back and watch.” Noru spoke as if everything were settled, and began clumsily to rise and shift her way off the bench. “But let me have that conversation first.”
Imau and Akemi watched her head back to her companions. Quietly, doubtfully, Akemi wondered, “Are we really going to take her with us?”
“It looks like it,” Imau replied in the same tone. She hadn’t expected this tonight, or any night.
Chapter 17 – Second Report
“If Katsu isn’t on our side, he’s going pretty far to make it seem like he is.” This was the beginning of Sano’s second report on returning to the Enca inn, but it wasn’t the first thing he’d said on entering the room. First there had been an awkward greeting during which they’d both, apparently, tried to hide how pleased they were to see each other; and then an argument over how economical it might be to order a meal from the inn staff just then, since Sano hadn’t had breakfast but Hajime would prefer to conserve funds and simply wait until supper.
“Based on what you know of him, can you think of any reason for him to pretend to help you?”
Sano still didn’t like to consider the possibility of Katsu betraying him, didn’t really appreciate Hajime bringing it up again, and was already a little annoyed (and hungry) after the previous argument — but at the same time, Hajime was absolutely right to question everything at this point, especially such a convenient reunion with an old friend. So Sano struggled not to lash out and to give the matter some rational thought.
Finally he said, “I can think of a reason someone in his position might. We’ve been talking to people at a few different inns, trying to get a group together who might actually want to do something instead of just chattering about it over drinks, and we’ve got some people interested. If we got a resistance going and meeting somewhere, and then somebody reported it to Soujirou, that somebody might get a big reward… money or political favor or both or more; I don’t know. Thing is, I just don’t think Katsu’s that kind of person. He watches what’s going on, yeah, but he’s never shown any interest in getting involved until now. I just don’t think he cares that much; he’s way more interested in… art… and… making stuff.”
He thought he’d presented a fairly well rounded picture with this statement — though admittedly his knowledge of Katsu was still based more on the letters they’d exchanged over the last nine years than any newly discovered or rediscovered traits. In any case, he was pleased to see Hajime nodding slowly in a manner suggesting he would accept this perspective for now. “Keep your eyes open, though,” the knight said at last. “I know you don’t want to think so, but he may still have his own agenda.” And that was all it took to keep Sano from getting angry: an acknowledgment that Katsu was his friend and it distressed Sano to think of him as a possible enemy; Hajime was capable of being considerate when he bothered.
In response to this consideration, Sano decided to give Hajime what he’d brought him now instead of later. Despite this being a very natural reaction, however, he couldn’t help sounding a little awkward as he announced, “Hey, I brought you these.” Neither gift-giving nor a lot of interpersonal thoughtfulness had been typical of their relationship thus far, after all.
“Why?” Hajime wondered, perhaps just a little suspicious as he accepted the two books Sano had fished from his backpack.
“I dunno…” Sano looked away immediately, shrugging. “I thought you’d like them.”
“But how much did you spend on them?”
Reassured that the financial aspect of this exchange was Hajime’s source of concern, Sano replied in some relief, “Oh, they’re Katsu’s.”
But evidently the other aspects of this exchange were also on Hajime’s mind. “So you specifically asked him if you could borrow books for me?”
“Yeah… well… just it seemed like last time you were going a little stir-crazy in here. Or maybe more than a little.”
“That’s no reason to be giving out dangerous information.”
Reflecting that he should have known better than to expect thanks, Sano reassured him somewhat indignantly, “I haven’t told anyone about you — not even Katsu! He thinks I have to hide out a lot and it gets boring.”
“Does he really think that, I wonder…?”
“Well, even if he doesn’t believe that story,” Sano protested, “there’s no reason for him to think I wanted them for you.”
“He probably also has no reason to believe you’ve really gotten involved in the conflict against Soujirou purely out of your own interests and motives. And the fact you’re working with him to try to get a resistant group together will tell him you don’t have a group elsewhere. Therefore, it would be logical for him to assume, when you ask for books you’re really not the type to read on your own, that you want them for a fugitive you’re harboring somewhere. And if you happen to have mentioned my name even one time more than the name of anyone else involved in this affair, it’s a good bet he knows who you’re working with when you’re not working with him.”
“Ladies’ fucking tits!” Sano had jumped up from the bed where he’d previously been sitting, and was gaping angrily at Hajime. “Why don’t you just say I can’t read at all and I’m obviously too stupid to be handling any of this and too unprincipled to care about it anyway?!”
“As much as I would enjoy saying that,” replied Hajime coolly, though with a teasing glint in his eye, “it would be straying from the point. I’m not even trying to insult you at the moment; I’m trying to remind you you need to be careful. If your friend is really on our side, it’s fine for him to know about me… but if he’s playing his own game throughout all of this, it may be very dangerous.” He sounded somewhat bitter as he finished, “I can’t do much from here, so practically our entire cause is in your hands.”
Sano’s ire, and as a result his glare, had lost some of its intensity as Hajime said this. Problematically, Hajime’s rude bluntness was so often perfectly accurate. Sano really wasn’t much a reader of books, and probably wouldn’t have gotten involved, on his own, in the matter of who ruled the kingdom… and any potential carelessness on his part could get Hajime killed.
“Besides,” Hajime added as Sano stared across the room at him with this equivocal attitude, “I don’t doubt your principles.” Breaking eye contact with Sano so as to look down at the books again, he continued, “Your motives are always good. It’s your methods I doubt.”
Once again, though it rankled to be doubted, Sano couldn’t logically protest; Hajime had every right to worry about the performance of the man on whom his personal safety and possibly the future of the king he served rested. Besides that, it was unexpectedly gratifying, even mollifying, to have his principles recognized by this royal knight. So he took a deep breath and, instead of arguing, started trying to ease Hajime’s doubts regarding his methods.
There was a certain type of blind loyalist they didn’t want — people that, without a great deal of comprehension of what was going on or what had gone before, yet professed strong support for Kenshin. Of course any support was welcome, but people that had actually given the matter some thought, had some reason for their loyalty, were likely to be more reliable.
The woman they were watching tonight, for example, had established during her supper talk that, while she felt little in relation to Kenshin in specific, she was pretty passionate about changing things via the proper methods — and usurpation and abduction did not strike her as proper. Katsu and Sano had been particularly pleased with the way she’d worded it to the friend she was discussing the matter with: “If someone doesn’t like the way you handle your business, and thinks he could sell baked goods better than you do, is he allowed to lock you up in a back room somewhere and just step in and take over your shop?”
They’d decided she seemed more Sano’s type than Katsu’s. Whether or not she was Sano’s type (and, he being interested only in men, this was unlikely) didn’t really matter; it just needed to seem logical, at a glance, that someone like Sano might try to draw her aside for a private conversation.
Of course this way they risked exposure, but that risk could not be erased, and they had to do something. They could only gage people’s sincerity as best they were able, and hope any spies sent by Soujirou’s people to prevent exactly what they were trying to do would present the sort of supposedly raging loyalty they were already avoiding.
This particular woman didn’t give Sano any convenient opportunity to talk to her inside the inn, which meant he had to follow her out. He didn’t much like having to do that, since it made him come across as an overly eager creeper — not a good way to get someone to trust or want to talk to him. Still, once again, there was no other option if he wanted to try her at all tonight.
Katsu elbowed him conspicuously in the ribs in a ‘Go for it!’ sort of gesture. It was part of the act, but Sano hadn’t been expecting it, and therefore reacted very naturally by choking on his drink and jumping abruptly away from his seat in an attempt not to spill it all over himself. Then he shot Katsu a dirty look, left him to pay the tab, and headed toward the door after the woman.
This time he got lucky: nobody else was hanging out around the inn’s entrance, which meant he could approach her immediately instead of trying to stalk her to a point where nobody would overhear them. He still started things out in accordance with the deception, however, just in case. “Hey, wait up!”
She complied, turning to look at him, her expression curious and slightly skeptical as she glanced up and down his figure. “Yeah?”
“I, uh…” He glanced back at the inn’s door, probably giving a good impression of bashfulness but actually just to double-check that no one else was close by. “I was listening to you inside, and I was wondering if you might want to–” he lowered his voice– “team up with some other people who’re trying to get our old king back on the throne.”
After a pronounced blink of eyes, she stared at him in silence. Clearly he’d played his part well, for she looked completely taken by surprise. Finally she said, in as low a tone as his, “You really just walk up to people and ask them that?”
“If you can think of a better way to do it,” Sano replied with a rueful grin, “I’d love to hear it.”
Her return smile looked as if it was delivered almost against her will. “Let’s walk this way,” she said with a gesture. Sano nodded and fell into step beside her, ready to bolt if she gave any indication of turning on him. But as they walked she went on, “I might be interested in… what you suggested… if I thought it had a reasonable chance of success.”
“Gets more reasonable with every person who joins us.”
“And how many people is that?”
“Not enough yet.”
She nodded, and that she’d accepted this answer was another good sign. “I’m not any kind of fighter, mind you — a little self-defense for the streets is all. If flour will help you, I’m a good source, but if you’re looking for someone who can hold a sword, look somewhere else.”
“We’re just looking for lots of people,” Sano assured her. “The first step is to prove that lots of people don’t like this, right? There may be fighting eventually; I don’t know. You don’t have to commit to anything right now. We’re gonna meet in a week — a couple of weeks, I mean–” Damn the five-day week and that he was used to the ten– “to see just how many people we’ve managed to scrape up and what they all can do. We’ll talk about some ideas then.”
Again she nodded. “Sounds like the beginning of a plan. Where and when is this meeting?”
“If you come back here in nine days — Mis’hyou after next — we’ll tell you.”
She stopped walking and looked him over again, brows slightly lowered. “You’re taking a big personal risk here.”
Sano shrugged. “Like you said, you can’t just lock someone up in a back room and then take over their business.”
With a serious smile, she raised a hand to her forehead in a gesture of courtesy and respect. “I’ll see you a week from Mis’hyou, then.” Then she turned and hurried away down the street.
Once again Hajime was nodding with seemingly reluctant approbation. It was clear he wouldn’t concede verbally in regard to Sano’s methods, nor praise his progress, but there was definitely a relenting tone to his subsequent statement, “All right. So we may have a growing number of allies in town, with a date set to find out for sure, and your friend seems like a useful asset for now, whatever he may do later. What else did you find out?”
“Let’s see… knights.”
At this, Hajime looked quickly over at him with an expression of piercing interest.
“The ones who got away were Sanosuke and Soujirou. You didn’t tell me you had knights with the same names as me and the new fake king.”
“That didn’t seem a point worth mentioning.” Hajime was, however, evidently very pleased to hear which of his subordinates had escaped. “Besides, you’ve never mentioned that ‘Sano’ wasn’t your full name.”
“Oh. Well. Anyway, yeah, those two apparently escaped. I still don’t know about the other two, though; people keep saying they’re either dead or joined Soujirou.”
“Well, keep your ears open for where any of them might be.”
Sano nodded. “Still no real idea where Kenshin is, either. The good thing is, I figure if Soujirou had had him killed, I’d have heard about it. Some people wonder if Kenshin might be dead, but nobody’s claiming that he definitely is.”
“I doubt he’ll have Kenshin killed; he has no excuse to. Claiming he’s just trying to improve the kingdom will only work for him as long as he doesn’t demonstrate a personal grudge. Executing the previous king for nothing would lose him a lot of support.”
“Yeah, well,” said Sano darkly, “we better hope he sticks to that idea. Some people are worried he’ll come up with some fake crime Kenshin’s committed so he will have an excuse.”
Hajime looked grim, but said nothing.
Shaking his head to drive away the unpleasant possibilities for now, Sano went on. “I found out some stuff about most of the divine houses; that’s where I spent most of my time during the day. It’s actually mostly gossip, but that’s about all I can get at this point. There’s nothing really new about Shougo and Sayo; they haven’t stopped acting weird, and they still aren’t bothering to hide it at all, so that hasn’t changed, except that the Megumi people are starting to say what I already thought: if those two are in some resistance, they’re terrible at it.”
Hajime smirked faintly at this assessment.
“None of the divine houses have had any new announcements about Soujirou, and they’re still doing that Devoted Council thing every week. Five-day week. Gossip comes from the servants in the palace about what they’ve been talking about, and I don’t know how true it is, but it seems like the Kaoru girls are serious about not supporting Soujirou’s bullshit, since apparently everything Kaoru has to suggest at the Council gets completely ignored.”
“That’s useful to know,” Hajime said thoughtfully.
“Yeah. It makes it seem like, if a divine house is behind all of this, it really isn’t Kaoru.”
“After I heard that, I decided not to spend any more time in Kaoru’s corner of town unless I had to. So the next interesting thing I noticed was Kamatari kissing someone on a balcony over in Yumi’s. I mean serious kissing: hands were going places, and some clothes were already off, and it looked like more clothes were about to come off; they were really into it. This other person didn’t have a shiiya on, and the light made it hard to see details, so I don’t know who it was… but the first one was definitely Kamatari.” Yumi’s fourth-wash had been interesting enough (and had embarrassed Sano enough at their first meeting) that he’d easily recognized her again.
“It may have been Makoto, one of Yumi’s golds,” Hajime provided, repeating one piece of gossip he’d already shared during their walk to Enca. “But given Kamatari’s reputation, it could have been anyone, inside Yumi’s house or out of it. According to everything I’ve heard, Kamatari is a very sexual person.”
It wasn’t a point of great significance at the moment, but Sano couldn’t help reflecting briefly on the complete lack of any sort of condemnation in Hajime’s voice.
One of many reasons religious folk were such damn hypocrites was that they held themselves to different standards of behavior, particularly when it came to sexuality, than the secular populace; the latter tended to be extremely repressive and prudish about extramarital sex and multiple partners, sometimes even when referring to the devoted among whom such behavior was allowed. To hear a non-devoted speaking without any negativity of a ‘very sexual person’ (in a tone of understatement, no less) was refreshing. Sano hadn’t forgotten the look Hajime had given him on discovering he’d been sleeping with Seijuurou, but, in light of what seemed to be optimistic new information on Hajime’s attitudes, Sano thought now the knight had probably been questioning his taste rather than his morals.
Of course this wasn’t the time to discuss such things, and even thinking about it, pleasant as it was, had to wait, since they were in the middle of a conversation. “Yeah,” Sano said, more or less smoothly in response to Hajime’s last statement, “the only reason this was even interesting is that people are starting to say Kamatari’s sleeping with Soujirou now too… but I’m pretty sure this person on the balcony wasn’t Soujirou. He wouldn’t have been on an open balcony where just anyone could assassinate him, for one thing.”
Hajime made a pensive sound and put a thoughtful hand to his face, obviously struck. When Sano inquired, the knight said slowly, “You’re right. It is interesting. Kamatari gets away with plenty of sex with people outside the church because everyone is willing to look the other way to a certain extent — but the king is too high-profile to ignore. If Kamatari is sleeping with Soujirou, we can expect to see serious repercussions of one type or another eventually.”
“And if we don’t…”
Hajime nodded. “Listen for anyone complaining about that; it may be useful to know which house objects most strongly.”
“Right. All right, so, Misao… there was nothing new, actually, around Misao’s place. At least I didn’t get robbed as much this time, though.” Sano shook his head. “They’re all so used to stealing shit, they probably didn’t think anything of Soujirou stealing the throne. Anyway, nobody seemed like they were thinking about it at all this week.”
Hajime snorted. “It’s no wonder the country’s in such a state, when the religious leaders people look to for guidance are so indifferent to the government.”
Sano could do nothing but agree. Then he cast about for any other news he hadn’t yet relayed and finally, a little reluctantly, brought up what he’d saved for last. “And Tomoe… Tomoe’s people…”
Sano had to force the word out. “Kereme.”
“What about it?” Hajime didn’t seem to have much patience for Sano’s reluctance to speak, and Sano wasn’t sure he would have any more patience once the story was told.