June 6, 1885 – Saturday – Out of Kyoto

“Don’t bring too much. We do not have a lot of room and I do -not- want to lug your stuff around.”
He peers into my room that was provided by Toshio-san but then immediately leaves.
He’s being himself…
I smile at that. A lot of people thinks he’s a rude man but I know him better than most people, maybe I know him the best. There was a time I confessed my love for him but I could not do it in person and not at that time when it was too late.
As I placed the last of my books and a few pieces of clothing in my luggage, I frown just slightly. If I had just taken a chance back then… But I was slow to grab the moment… And yet here I am, wistful and yet content for what life is now. I take my papers from the Keishikan, one that affirmed my employment there. I’m still very proud of it, to be one of the first women in an organization naturally populated by men. That’s not such a bad thing, certainly much better than when I used to work in Shimabara… At least until he came along and found me there and offered some sort of twisted purpose in the carnals I offered men. I was fascinated by him… He was like them and yet, he was not. In his darkness, I always saw the light behind it… That is probably why I am here now, following in his footsteps in my own way. And yet… A part of me is saddened of what could’ve been…
I’ve found someone I love…
Shaking my head from that memory six years ago, I pull on my luggage and head to the garden where he is waiting. I look at him for a moment before finally telling him I’m ready and we head straight for the train bound for Tokyo. He’s found someone and I have too, only he has her and I don’t have him. Looking at the window as we roll past several Cherry blossoms I chance upon my reflection, my face not laden with make-up as before, my hair shorter and a blue shirt… Well… Not -just- a blue shirt. I smile even wider and look back to the man sitting across from me.
“Do you think I’ll wear this again anytime soon?”
“Once we leave Tokyo, I want you out of it.” He puffs on his cigarette and I wait for him to tell me more. It would be around this time that he would argue with me or at least give an extended version on why I shouldn’t wear my uniform.
(OOC: To be continued)