“So that’s where we were at the last time I went into Elotica.” Sano punctuated the end of his summary, into which Hajime had made occasional, amusingly insulting interjections, with an almost explosively loud bite on the vegetable he held. Carrots had never before in his life tasted this good.
“And you’re sure you can trust this artist friend of yours?”
Sano wished Tokio hadn’t said this. He’d been watching her reactions to his tale and thinking how reasonable they were, how wrong he’d been to begrudge her involvement in this affair… Now for her first comment on his report to be this same old frustrating question made him almost resent her all over again. He had forgiven Hajime for making the same point in an earlier instance, however, so there was no reason to get upset and defensive now. Besides, further information would surely clear this matter up definitively, both for Tokio and her brother. “Well, when I went back into town this last time…”
Here was a lengthier explanation than before, since Hajime hadn’t heard about Sano’s activities during his latest foray into the capital, and Sano remained inclined toward some extravagance in the telling. Hajime received the news that his face was tacked up on wanted posters all around town with a dour expression, and rolled his eyes when Sano informed him Katsu had used the same image as for the tournament some months before. The description of not-a-sword-thief Chou and the revelation that he was the source of Sano’s ridiculous outfit won some laughs and a teasing comment or two that didn’t sting. He couldn’t remember when he’d last heard Hajime laugh, but hadn’t forgotten what a pleasant sound it was.
But Hajime became somber again upon hearing about the upcoming festival and the poster’s suggestive wording regarding the apparently religious nature of the opening ceremonies. He didn’t mention that he’d known this would happen, but Sano assumed he must be thinking it. The general unease filling the entire party during their brief discussion of this looming event indicated clearly their agreement with Sano’s initial thought when he’d first seen Katsu’s work order: those opening ceremonies couldn’t be allowed to occur. In an attempt at reassurance, Sano hastened on to describe the five meetings he and Katsu had taken part in — this was the information he was sure would allay any suspicions regarding his friend — as well as the scheduled larger gathering where, assuming they could get back into Elotica in time and uncaptured, they would solidify their plans for disrupting the festival.
“Sano’s been talking you up,” Tokio told her brother with a smirk. And Sano couldn’t help feeling a new, different type of uneasiness at this. He believed he’d spoken naturally all along, hadn’t looked at Hajime any differently or any more frequently than he normally would have, hadn’t given himself away… but she’d been watching him with some apparent interest, and to what extent this interest was limited to his report on the political situation and plans for dealing with it he couldn’t be entirely sure.
“So I noticed,” was all Hajime said in response. He turned toward Sano, who had a sudden, giddy mental image of the knight asking him something to the effect of, “Are you sure you only just realized? It seems like you’ve known for quite some time.” For indeed, numerous bygone instances in which he’d responded to what he saw now had been a long-present subconscious awareness had intruded on his notice throughout his description of recent days. But of course Hajime said no such thing. Instead he commented, “We’d better hope what you promised doesn’t disappoint; it already sounds as if we can’t count on a lot of people being there.”
“We can’t,” Sano said regretfully. It felt even worse than usual to admit this imperfect result to his efforts.
“We’ll make do with whatever we have.” Intentional or otherwise, there was a note of consolation in the grimness of Hajime’s tone, as if declaring that, though the situation wasn’t optimal, he attached no blame to his companion for it. Sano, at least, chose to interpret it that way. “What I still want to know,” the knight continued, “is who’s behind all this. Even if we stop this ceremony of Soujirou’s, even if we depose him and put Kenshin back on the throne, the real troublemaker may escape us if we have no idea who they are.”
“And you don’t think it’s Aoshi.” Tokio could obviously tell he didn’t; her statement had no questioning intonation to it.
Hajime shook his head, and with the direction his thoughtful gaze then turned it almost seemed his following remarks were aimed at the small red potato in his hand. “Aoshi is unmistakably loyal to Soujirou, but I believe he has reasons for that other than the political or even the religious. He mentioned him several times in my presence, and his attitude never struck me as that of the power behind the throne.” And he bit pensively into his potato.
Tokio gave an equally pensive nod. Neither she nor Sano could contribute much on this point, as they’d barely even seen Aoshi themselves, but both willingly accepted Hajime’s assessment, at least for the moment. What Sano could offer was, “Well, I know some of what the Devoted Council has been up to… There may be more answers there.”
Though not overly fond of raw potatoes himself, Sano found he very much enjoyed watching Hajime eat one, and even more the expectant expression he pointed in Sano’s direction while doing so. Hajime’s cheekbones were riveting; they always had been, but Sano hadn’t allowed himself to truly absorb the fact before. He had been long aware of the piercing, almost glowing quality of the man’s bright eyes set off so well by their dark, smooth lashes; and he’d watched Hajime eat before, had already noted the even whiteness of his teeth and the finely cut lines of his thin, dexterous lips. And those remarkably expressive eyebrows… Sano didn’t need the reminder they gave now, one tilting and the other rising, to know they could convey a world of thought with only the minutest gesture.
Tokio cleared her throat, and Sano realized abruptly he’d been giving Hajime the lengthy and concerted stare he’d been attempting to avoid this entire time — just because the knight was eating a potato, for Kaoru’s sake. With a burning face whose sudden redness he hoped wouldn’t show in the limited light, he tried to look at something else — anything else — and went on with his report. “They, uh… They’ve been talking about changing the criminal trial system…”
“Changing it how?” Though Hajime had obviously been wondering before what was taking Sano so long getting started, he had nothing to say now about that awkward moment.
“Katsu said something about ‘completely rethinking’ it, but he didn’t have any details.”
“Yumi knows it needs rethinking…” Hajime twisted his shoulder aside to dodge the blow Tokio aimed at him in retribution for his language.
“So Soujirou might actually accomplish something good here,” Sano said. He didn’t fear he might get caught up in staring at Hajime’s face again as he turned back toward him, for he was truly interested in the answer to his implied question.
Indisposition toward a reply he felt logic-bound to make sounded in Hajime’s voice. “It seems difficult to imagine a ruler — even a usurper — not managing something good during the time they’re in charge. That doesn’t make what he’s done acceptable.”
“Yeah…” Sano frowned. “He’s been in and out of the palace for years, from what I’ve heard… He may be only eighth in line for the throne, but he’s still a prince of Gontamei… He could’ve suggested changing the criminal trial system, or any of this other shit, any time before, couldn’t he? He didn’t have to put himself in charge to try to change shit.”
“Which certainly supports your theory that someone is directing his actions,” said Tokio. “Probably someone who couldn’t have suggested any of this any time — someone who assumed they would never have any direct political authority, and thought this was the only way to accomplish what they wanted.”
Hajime swallowed the last of his potato and said, “Exactly. And I would add to that: someone who knew they could never marry their way into that political authority, but who was still in a position of limited social influence over a prince of Gontamei.”
“A higher-wash in one of the divine houses, in other words.” Tokio had retrieved a potato of her own from the pile they’d gathered, but instead of eating it was pressing it between her two hands as if doing so facilitated reflection. “But which?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.” Hajime looked expectantly at Sano again. “What else has the Devoted Council discussed?”
Considering more specifically the implications of his news, Sano spoke more thoughtfully as he replied, “Legalizing kereme.”
“That will make a lot of devoted very happy,” was Tokio’s sardonic comment. Though she personally seemed far above such sordid lifestyle choices as kereme outings, she was certainly in a position, better than the rest of them, to be familiar with devoted habits.
“And one in particular?” Once more Hajime glanced at Sano, seeking answers. “Enishi?”
And once more Sano had to admit to imperfect results. “I never did find out for sure whether he uses the stuff. There’s all sorts of rumors, of course, but the night I was really working on that was when–”
“Of course,” Hajime cut him off. Tone and expression were both serious, but not with the grimness of earlier; rather, it was as if he sought to assure Sano with his interruption that they didn’t have to talk about the murder of Korucun in front of those unfamiliar with the trauma Sano had taken from that occurrence. He found himself as grateful for this as he had been for Hajime’s somewhat unexpected compassion in discussing that horrible night in the first place. “I doubt we would ever have gotten anything more than rumors anyway. But assuming they are true, it seems possible that whoever’s behind the usurpation is pushing for the legalization of kereme in order to conciliate Enishi, to keep him happy with the new regime, or even actively get him on their side. They’ve bought the house of Tomoe this way, or they’re in the process of doing so.” When Tokio and Sano both nodded their agreement with this very reasonable assessment, Hajime asked Sano, “What else?”
“Something about opening the country up to essentialists.”
“Interesting,” said Tokio. “I wonder why.”
“If I’m on the right track with all of this,” Hajime mused, “allowing them into the country would benefit at least one of the divine houses.”
“Most of the whites are warriors, aren’t they?” Sano thought back to what he knew about each of them, and nodded a response to his own query. “Magical elemental powers or whatever would be useful to any of them, even if it’s not anywhere near as strong as the crazy stories say.”
Tokio suggested, “Or it might be a gesture of openness toward other religions. Dyongushou, whether they’re essentialists or not, don’t believe in the divine ladies — they follow a completely different set of beliefs — which is why the border’s been closed for so long. Maybe whoever’s behind this wants to change that.”
Now Sano shook his head. “I don’t think so. They’re talking about outlawing heresy, however they think they’re going to manage that. That doesn’t sound like they’ve got religious freedom in mind.”
“Someone involved in this must secretly be an essentialist,” Hajime declared, “and this proposed change that would allow them to practice their magic openly is intended to buy their loyalty and that of any group they happen to be a part of.” He met Sano’s eyes again. Why did Sano find that so thrilling? Simply because Hajime was turning to him for answers? Or because the knight had spent the first half of the day unwilling to look at him for more than a second? “Have you heard any rumors in Elotica that might indicate who this secret essentialist is?”
Again, and again regretful, Sano shook his head. “Not a single word about that. Actually when Katsu mentioned the letting-essentialists-in thing, it came completely out of nowhere for me.”
“And outlawing heresy?” Tokio wondered. “Whom does that benefit?” She’d taken one bite of her potato, and now, having raised it halfway to her face for a second, pursed her lips in disapproval — evidently she’d decided she felt the same about raw potatoes as Sano did — and let her hand fall again.
As for Sano, it was with some embarrassment that he answered her question. “I, uh, think that’s actually aimed at me. Makes me more of an enemy of the regime, you know?”
Hajime had relieved Tokio of the potato she obviously didn’t intend to finish, and now as he lifted it to his mouth he murmured sardonically into it, “It’s a shame they aren’t familiar with my religious inclinations. It could be aimed at both of us, and doubly effective.”
“Then our wanted posters could match even better,” Sano agreed with a grin, feeling a glorious sense of solidarity with this man he so admired.
“It’s probably for the best that you keep quiet about your nonbelief.” Tokio sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s much less embarrassing for Kenshin that way with you as his chief knight.”
“And for you with me as your brother.” And Hajime bit once again into the potato.
“Speaking of brothers and sisters…” Actually this was a pretty terrible way to bring up the next point, but Sano had blurted it out before he had a chance to think. “Those two Megumi golds Mutou and Sayo showed up again eventually, and we were right: they weren’t involved in any kind of resistance or anything like that; they were…” When it came to saying it out loud, especially after that blundering lead-in, he found he didn’t quite know how. Eventually, given that both Tokio and Hajime regarded him with some curiosity — Eiji probably did too, making things a hundred times more awkward, but at least he’d remained silent throughout this discussion — Sano settled on, “They were involved with… each other. I guess the woman’s pregnant, and everybody thinks they know who the father is.”
“And?” Clearly Hajime wondered why Sano had considered this uncomfortable information worth relating.
And at least Sano did have a reason. “Well, it’s another Devoted Council thing: they’re talking about legalizing that. The brother-sister thing, I mean.”
Hajime nodded slowly. Tokio said, “And there’s the loyalty of that house.”
“Right,” said Sano, relieved to return to the larger political discussion and avoid distasteful details.
“So we have Aoshi, who I don’t believe is behind this, keeping the house of Misao loyal with his personal loyalty to Soujirou; we have the legalization of kereme for Enishi, which buys the loyalty of Tomoe; and the legalization of brother-sister relations so Mutou and Sayo can continue what they’re doing, which buys the loyalty of Megumi.” There was distaste in Hajime’s tone, though about which topic wasn’t evident. Sano would definitely never tell him either that he’d been out on kereme himself or that he’d dreamed about Hajime kissing his own sister. The knight continued his summary. “The house of Kaoru will probably never support Soujirou, and no effort has been made to conciliate them, which could conceivably be for show; but if someone from Kaoru were behind this, they could have worked on Kenshin instead of putting a puppet in his place. And of course there’s our unknown essentialist, but we already have four out of five houses accounted for.”
“You think it’s Kamatari, don’t you?” Sano heard a certain measure of wonder in his own voice as he asked this, and had to admit to a kind of awe at pinning down a name at last. “And she hasn’t done anything that benefits Yumi’s house because this whole thing is the benefit.”
“It’s only a theory,” Hajime cautioned, “but it seems believable.”
They all sat in silence for a moment, possibly pondering in the same atmosphere of awe Sano had just noted. He was thinking back to his one real encounter with the beautiful and surprisingly strong white devoted of Yumi, going through what he’d heard her say at that time, recalling everything he knew about her. Finally he shook his head and muttered, “She probably really likes the idea of sleeping with a king, but couldn’t get Kenshin into bed… Making one of her other boyfriends steal the throne was really her only choice.”
Despite the shallowness of this joke, Hajime chuckled. Then he asked, “How sure are you that she is sleeping with Soujirou?”
Sano shrugged. “Obviously I can’t know . But from the rumors, it’s the worst-kept secret in the city.”
“That’s often the case with higher-wash breaking that particular rule,” said Tokio disapprovingly. “Those that should be most careful to set a good example often turn out to be those with the least shame.”
“Well, it’s a stupid rule in the first place,” was Sano’s critical reply.
Tokio obviously would have taken this challenge if Hajime hadn’t interjected, “And you notice there’s been no attempt at changing it. Unless they’ve discussed this and we just haven’t heard about it, there’s been no suggestion to start allowing the higher-wash to sleep with non-devoted… and not even some kind of quiet exception to the rule to allow Kamatari to keep sleeping with Soujirou.”
Interested, Sano postponed the debate on religious policy and sexual freedom. “What does that mean? Is Kamatari trying to throw everyone off the track by not proposing something that would benefit the house of Yumi?”
“I don’t know,” Hajime said slowly. And was it merely Sano’s imagination, or did he seem to have a theory? It was probably one of those half formed ideas you don’t want to commit to without further information, since all the knight did was shake his head and repeat, “I don’t know.”
“Everything seems a lot clearer now, anyway,” said Tokio, “and we can make more solid plans.” She gave a smile both stern and predatory; it made Sano wonder how he could ever have missed that she was related to Hajime. “Now no matter what happens, I know I need to look into the house of Yumi very carefully. I can ensure the scenario you mentioned earlier — of whoever’s behind this escaping even if we managed to get Kenshin reinstated — won’t happen.”
Hajime returned her smile; really, the expressions were almost identical. “I look forward to seeing that.”
“Meanwhile, though,” said Sano, “if we’re actually gonna get Kenshin reinstated, we should think about how to get back into Elotica so we can get to the meeting in time and deal with Soujirou’s festival. That’s our best chance at this point; if we miss that, shit’s gonna get a hell of a lot harder.”
“You’re right.” Hajime examined their surroundings. Though the clouds outside had evidently begun to clear, still the light remained dim as afternoon turned to evening. “It’s not dark enough yet, but soon we should be able to leave here in relative safety.”
Tokio too looked around, her lips pursed very much as they had been in response to the raw potato her brother had then eaten. Her glance, rather than touching on the high windows under the eaves as Hajime’s had done, moved from one to another of the shiiyao they’d hung up to dry before sitting down in just their shirts. “I would feel safer making our way into the capital if we had something else to wear. My device–” she gestured to her chest, devoid though it currently was of the multi-colored teardrop symbol of her office– “is very recognizable, even from a distance. And Sano’s outfit…” Her serious expression pulled upward into a smile seemingly against her will.
“I have a bunch of devoted shiiyao,” Sano pointed out, not eager to discuss the blue and orange ensemble — and be laughed at — yet again.
“That wouldn’t exactly make us less obtrusive,” Tokio said. “And deep hoods for the two of you whose faces are all over Elotica on wanted posters would be nice too.”
“I see what you’re saying.” It was the first time Eiji had spoken for quite a while, and he sounded more pleased than anything else. Doubtless he’d been a bit frustrated at his inability to take part in the previous discussion, and was now happy at the prospect of doing something useful. He stood and moved to where the backpack he shared with his mother gaped open nearby, and began rummaging through it.
Hajime watched with more than a hint of disapproval. “Do you even know where the closest town is that we haven’t just run from?”
“That’s what the map is for.” In this statement and the glance Eiji threw his uncle, Sano could easily see a certain sarcastic family resemblance.
They all crowded around as Eiji found a relatively dry patch on the dirt floor to spread out a heavy roll of paper on, and in order to read it better Hajime caused bright energy to shine from the edge of his stolen keonblade as he’d done earlier. Then, as Eiji’s small finger jabbed down on a dot labeled ‘Ekoren,’ Sano remarked in dismay, “It’d take you at least a couple of hours to get there and buy stuff and come back here.” He wanted to set out for Elotica as soon as possible; he didn’t like this development.
Hajime seemed to be in agreement as he asked his sister, “Is it safe for him to travel that far alone?” Sano didn’t miss the scowl that crossed Eiji’s face as his kinsman thus simultaneously questioned his abilities and talked right over his head.
“There’s certainly a risk involved.” To judge by her somber tone, Tokio was weighing this minutely. “Our pursuers know we were a group of three adults and one child, so if a child shows up at a village in the area to buy three adult shiiyao, it could arouse suspicion. But of all of us, it’s safest for him to go, and if he gets in and out quickly, they may only get suspicious when it’s already too late. In any case, that’s the risk, not his traveling alone. Eiji is an excellent traveler.”
“But is new clothing worth any risk at all?” Hajime persisted.
“We’re going to need it once we get into Elotica anyway.”
Hajime was frowning, and from the glance he threw at his nephew, it seemed Eiji’s safety was his top concern in this situation; if the prospective messenger hadn’t been so young and his sister’s son, he probably would have accepted her point more easily. Yet he offered no suggestion on how to improve the arrangement.
“I’ll be fine,” Eiji assured them, letting the map reroll and beginning to dig through the backpack again. Next he withdrew what Sano assumed was a purse; he obviously had no misgivings whatsoever about the part he was to play. “I’ll go as quick as I can.”
Now Tokio too stood and accompanied her son along the row between the hanging vegetables toward the exit; what words of caution, advice, or encouragement she might give him at the door Sano couldn’t guess. But like Hajime, he didn’t feel entirely right about this scheme, and swiftly turned to his remaining companion once the other two were out of earshot. “Do you want me to go instead?” Reminded of the time he, Hajime, and Yahiko had approached Egato and discussed the purchase of supplies, he added with a touch of facetiousness, “I might still be the ‘less valuable fugitive.'”
Hajime’s frown deepened. “You’re a very valuable fugitive,” he said unexpectedly, causing a shiver to run up and down Sano’s spine. What did he mean by that, exactly? He hadn’t even responded jokingly as Sano had expected him to. But there was no time to consider this, for Hajime immediately went on, “But she’s right: Eiji is the safest of all of us for an errand like this. And,” he added grudgingly, “it is a good idea to change our appearances as much as possible.”
Sano nodded reluctantly, not entirely satisfied but now, at least, distracted by other thoughts.
Presently Tokio returned, sat where she’d been before, and began poking through what remained of their little stack of purloined food. “We have a few hours,” she announced coolly as she examined a tomato in the reinstated light of her brother’s keonblade. Sano thought he recognized her frame of mind: it wasn’t that she had no concerns about their situation or about her son heading out alone through an area their pursuers might still be searching; it was just that she’d done what she believed necessary, without reference to personal feelings — something Sano was beginning to believe absolutely typical of her. She looked over at him suddenly. “So, Sano, why don’t you tell me about yourself? You’re a heretic, like Hajime, but that’s about all I know.”
Although ‘like Hajime’ pleased him, for a moment Sano hesitated, unsure whether he wouldn’t be opening himself to sarcasm from both sister and brother in elaborating as requested; besides that, he would much rather sit in silence and consider what Hajime had meant by ‘a very valuable fugitive.’ But engrossing conversation of one sort or another was probably exactly what they all needed right now — Tokio especially — as they tried not to worry too intensely or irrationally about the child they’d allowed to take on an adult’s errand. So he began talking about himself, doing her the unplanned favor of starting even earlier in his life than he otherwise might have, deliberately phrasing the story so as to invite questioning just in case either of the others wanted to vent their feelings by demanding unimportant details, trying to keep them all occupied while they waited for Eiji to return.