Report at Shimagyo Ward Police Station, Kyoto
Sunday Morning
A young couple, Nakao Masaru and Nakao Etsuko, arrived this morning to claim that they had been removed from their lodgings. They are new from the countryside and were renting a room from a “lady doctor” and her “scary boyfriend” who were often out of town. This morning they arrived with a third person, perhaps a woman, and kicked out the Nakaos without any warning, claiming a patient needed the space.
Did you get your possessions? I asked. Yes, they answered. As this is the case and the room was being rented on casual basis, there is no criminal issue. They noted that the “scary boyfriend” has a sword but given the number of mostly peaceful former samurai who inhabit Kyoto, the chief has decreed that sword-wearing alone does not constitute an issue.
As this is a civil matter, case not pursued. Report sent to Kyoto Central Precinct for filing.
Officer Yamada Tamotsu
(Asato)
“You didn’t have to kick out the Nakaos,” I tell Souji. “They never would have known who she was – they’re country bumpkins, not locals.”
“They would notice something, and blab. Besides, I hated having them here.”
I sigh. I have precious little sources of income and the money he makes as a sell-sword is sporadic. Even the pittance they paid covered some expense… and what we may or may not get out of Yagi-san is not certain…
He leans over Yagi-san. “Hmmm… no wakey yet?, Hide-chan?” But she’s still out cold. “She must have hit her head -bad-….” Souji looks pleased with himself.
“Do you remember… we all used to be here…” this room has grown shabbier over the years, but I remember it well, as I sketch out the memories that are still so vivid to me. “You’d come in for you treatments, and after a while, Yagi-san would pester you so much you’d send her out of the room…”
“Oh? So we were alone?” His smile has a sneaky edge to it. “I’m certain I behaved… or did I?”
I nod. Except when she caught him, he was always a gentleman. And now… well, of course he’s no longer a -boy-, he’s a man whose own family wanted to burn him, whose girlfriend just dumped him, and all the years since… well, of course he’s not going to be the -kind- young man anymore. But he’s still -my- Souji.
But he still doesn’t… close the deal with me. Perhaps… he’s shy about how he looks, now. Even though I see it all when I treat him… it’s different when it’s a man and a woman rather than doctor and patient.
“I’m going to rest for a bit. Then we should move on.” He lies back, next to Yagi-san’s futon. “Wouldn’t it be funny if she wakes up and sees me next to her?” He giggles. But then he glances at me, and his face becomes sad and wistful. “It was once… something I dreamed of, you know. Before she threw me away.” He reaches out his hand to mine.
“Why are we moving on?”
“Well, we still have to arrange things… and there’s too many nosy busybodies around here. And this time, we’ll go another way, and then I’ll meet my contact.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “You have two hours, Asato-san.”
(Hide)
Oh…. I hurt so much and I can’t seem to break through… like I’m drowning.
And everything smells wrong – musty and sour…
Slowly, slowly, I own my eyes that feel so -heavy- and my head is just buzzing. I straight up, in shock, as I see the face next to me, but sink back down as I’m hit with waves of dizziness and nausea.
“Oh, look, my Hide-chan was surprised!” I hear that voice, and laughter. I manage to open my eyes again.
“It’s you…” I mutter, my head still muddled but last night is coming back to me. Gingerly, I reach up and touch my head where it hurts the most, and to my surprise it’s neatly bandaged. My hand moves down and it’s then I realize… I reach in the back…
“Oh, right, your hair.” He grins at me, and shrugs. “Vanity, and all that, Hide-chan.”
My hair… but the aching of my breasts brings something more urgent to mind. My children… it was late, wasn’t it? Ai-chan was sleeping, as Makoto -should- have been. Tsutomu-kun… Yukiko-san… I slump back to the thin futon, feeling weak and powerless. Did Hajime ever come home? And then his eyes, angry yet cold, red… flashes back. But did he get caught in this? This imposter was strong, and fast – Souji had derided his skills, once…
Another face comes into view, an woman of older middle age… and I can’t place the face. She frowns at me.
Then the face and this little room all comes together, old memories coming together. “Asato-san?”
She leans back. “Ha. Probably the first time you’ve thought of me in all of these years?” She looks smug.
I close my eyes. My head doesn’t seem to work. Thoughts can’t connect – “Why… why did you do this?” I open my eyes again. “Asato-san, you were my friend… and Souji’s…”
That man laughs. “Oh dear, my Hide-chan suffers under -many- misapprehensions. After you left us – no, abandoned us -”
My brain reaches a point of clarity. “You’re not Souji -”
Then pain, searing pain, in my left hand. He’s not just holding it tight, but actually pulling back my fingers and I hear a snap and then the pain becomes something new…
“She lies! She was in league with them, Matsumoto and my sisters and Hijikata, who -wanted- me dead, -wanted- me to -burn-!” He drops my hand to the floor, his voice rising, but I can only feel the pain from my hand, and my head again. “You see what she does? She, who was the -most- precious to me!” He sighs, “I…. I loose my tempter, Asato-san, forgive me.”
And Asato-san goes over to him, murmuring and consoling… can’t she see? Despite the burns? She was there. I read the interview my brothers did with Matsumoto-sensei, she was with him when he died. Why is she fooled by this imposter?
“Oh, look, she’s bleeding again!” I hear his voice… but it’s just too much and I ebb away again. Yesterday I was measuring what was left of me in two months. Now I’m not even certain how many days, hours…
(OOC – to be continued)
–On the Move – Sunday afternoon and evening —
“I can’t believe this is a vegetable cart – a farmer’s cart!” I hear his voice, first.
“Shhh – it’s cheap and there’s a hundred of these on the road,” Asato-san insists.
I try to open my eyes, and I’m either blindfolded or the wrap on my head covers my eyes – either way, I can’t see anything. I feel a rough cover on top of me, and the rich smell of earth, fresh vegetables… the jostle of a heavy cart.
“What I -endure-” the imposter mutters, and I wonder how Asato-san thinks that this man is the Souji we knew?
My head still hurts. Gingerly, I try moving my left hand. The little finger … I can’t move it, but the pain feels more like… a dislocation? Maybe some tendon damage. That I can deal with later. That’s fine. And I’m weirdly sad about my hair, but… I know that’s one thing Hajime found attractive about me. It’s one thing about myself that I found beautiful.
But otherwise I stay still and silent. Waiting to hear more of what they’re saying, but they’re quiet now. Trying to listen to the road. I don’t know why it matters, because what does it matter if -I- know where I am?
It’s something to think about. Then I can’t think about the children. Or Hajime… why did we have to part angry? And if I have so little time left with him… why this? -Why-? I’d do whatever he wants, just for the most of the little time we have left.
I’ve been kidnapped. I doubt that Asato-san and Kichisaburo mean to go to all of this work to kill me. So… I have to just be agreeable. Pliant.
But even then.. Kichisaburo is … there’s something off about him. He’s dangerous, but I’ve known dangerous men before. He’s… unstable. He enjoyed hurting my hand – the look in his eyes – my stomach is empty but the memory of it makes me sick.
I don’t know if he believes that he’s Souji or is just invested on keeping the ruse up for Asato-san. And Asato-san – why? I’d like to think we were friends. We had one great shared interest – Souji – and I looked the other way at her and her obvious love for him, because she was doing -good- for him. He got not just years, but active years, which I understand to be rare for those who have progressed to spitting up blood.
But she tried to contact me, over the years while I was in Kyoto. One of the reasons I came to Tokyo, so long ago, was to find her and the “last message” she claimed that Souji had for me. And I never could find her… and in time, she slipped out of my active thoughts – with Hajime, and the children… oh, god, is Ai-chan getting milk? Does Makoto remember the emergency cabinet?
The air is getting cooler and the little light I can see from under the blanket is darker… and the smells around me change. Wet? Water? My head is buzzing, again, after all of the jostling and I’m tired and hurting…
And then I’m dumped, rather roughly, from the cart into something else. I stay as limp as possible, which isn’t too hard, as I pass out again.
I think this is a boat.
I don’t know, I’ve never been on a boat. Well, supposedly, to London, across the great seas of the world. What route did I take? Of course, I didn’t have to deal with that. I just appeared. Made up a life, assumed the identity of Lady Rosvear, widow, nurse… I chose nurse there because he asked me to. I chose widow to give me freedom to be with him… London has boats… a song? Row row row your boat…
Glass and Steel? I think we’d been everywhere -but- on a boat. Overlooking water, many times… we both love water. Moving water. Maybe a pool? Bare skin, cool water, shocking Kondou-san’s neighbors, had they peeked over the hedges. But no boat.
In this life… never. Trains. Just trains. There was a train last night. I was in Kyoto, in Asato-san’s little house, but where am I now?
This water… I just hear the slow, constant slap of what I think are paddles? I realize that my hands are bound together, at the wrist.
I don’t hear talking. Maybe I’m on a boat, alone. I can’t be dead, my entire body aches, the worst being my head… I think I’m inside somewhere but it’s all dark. Bells…
Ding dong the witch is dead… funny songs from other places…
“I don’t remember her being so lazy,” I hear his voice.
“Well that was a very bad concussion…”
He harrumphs. “She tried to run. From me. Hide-chan should run -to- me!” He then pauses. “Unlike you! You knew me right off and took me in.”
“You know… how she is.” But her voice sounds pleased. “I’ve never been fickle, Souji…”
Fickle. Yes, fickle. The word for me. Even from these people… I’ll never escape it.
Do I hear rain, as I drift off again?
(OOC – End of Sunday for Hide)