It’s cold. Much too cold to live. The wind bites eventhough the sun shines brightly and I sit under a tree. I lift my head from my arms and let my eyes adjust to the light and I’m on top of a hill. It looks familiar and yet it’s not. It looks alive and yet, where the tenement buildings should be is just a bare landing and what seems like an outline of a road no longer traveled by anyone.
I close my eyes again. They feel so heavy and I can’t remember what I’m here for. Why I’m here. Why do I even -exist-? The book with pictures that’s where I came from? But even that one in the book looked lost, though he won’t admit it -yet-. He lost I think. -I- lost I think. Sleep. Sleep. I’m so tired.
Closing my eyes, I hope for rest and peace but instead I hear boisterous shouting and laughter. Angry voices and then the splattering of blood and of wood. I wasn’t there that night. I wasn’t at the Yagi’s where the man who formed the Shinsengumi fell. Did he deserve it? Yes. Was he evil? Not wholly. Just another fallible man who gave in to his women and his vices. Too proud for his own good and yet not too proud to take what’s not his whether it be another’s living, another’s life or another’s wife. My stomach hurts… And those sumo from the wrestling stable all died in Osaka and Kondo-san was accused of assassinating that yoriki. All because I had a stomach ache. -Idiot-. So I didn’t care that Kamo died that night but maybe I should’ve. If I did I’d have looked for her just like in that -story-.
Enough. Don’t think. Sleep. Relief. Those days are long gone. And it turns dark. It’s -always- dark when I sleep. But there’s loud booming sounds all around me. Men shouting, screaming… Crying? Harada didn’t come back – he was protecting the rear, Nagakura the vanguard, while my men and I flanked the enemy but still failed to capture those cannons up the mountain. Failure. Always a god damn failure. How many is left did you say? The Oni Fukuchou asks me. Less than a 100 sir. I couldn’t say the true number out loud, a third of a 100. It’s fine. He says. All we need were a few good men. He says thank you. Thank you for what? Dwindling the members of the Shinsengumi from over 200 strong to less than half in Aizu? Good riddance to those who deserted he says. But not everyone deserted, most didn’t get to come back. It was my lack in planning, in leadership or strategy. No one could replace a true commander after all. Shishio knew didn’t he?
And yet I survived another war even if I had to spend months in the hospital. I fought a war of attrition for Aizu. But I didn’t fight only for Aizu and this time I win. I win for the former enemy of the Shogunate, the enemy of the Shinsengumi. The Meiji accepts me. Most say as a government dog. There’s a target behind my back, from old enemies, new enemies, old allies and even friends. Traitor they all said. I don’t care. The Shinsengumi is gone, all that’s left is I. Even Nagakura and Shimada doesn’t truly fight anymore. One choosing to live far as a kendo instructor and the other, a hermit in Kyoto. Those who are mostly left alive were the Goryo Eiji. All my enemies.
You can do what you want, kill evil swiftly but within the limits we provide. You can refuse an order, we can always have someone else do it. Okubo knew his place as the most powerful man in Japan. Within the limits stipulated by him and I look to the short and belligerent looking man by his side. Kawaji, another proud winner from the Western Army. I agree if it will let me live killing evil swiftly UNTIL I DIE. I pretend to work as a lowly cop and pretend to live a life, with a wife and two sons. In a lovely house in Ueno. Agreeing to willfully forget -everything- in Kyoto, Aizu and in the land of pure white. A fabrication, likely but I get to live the only way I know how. To choose who to murder by merely judging them as evil.
But even with -that-, I’m firmly stuck in this dark place and it’s started to rain. The water drips from the leaves of the tree that I’m under, just like it did for men who spent nights exposed to the elements while in recuperating from battle. It was the same for you wasn’t it, Battousai?
(OOC: To continue)
“Hmm?” I look up. It’s still dark.
“The Battousai…” she answers.
“You’ve never met.” I tell her and I can’t help but stare. It’s been years since I’ve seen that face, much less hear her voice. But her words, I’ve read recently, forced to because the other made me and yet immediately disappeared because I was too difficult… I stop thinking.
She smiles and nods. “We haven’t. But you know of her don’t you? The one like me, with a younger brother?”
I did. I -knew- because I worked that case a long time ago, when I was still -useful-. Not this useless man whose purpose has been lost even if he still spouts off those words of killing evil instantly. No wonder I was left behind.
“You’re doing it again.” She says so softly looking ahead before looking at me. “One day Gorou-san, let someone in again.”
I wait. I don’t know how long.
“Open your eyes Gorou-san?”
“No.” I’m so tired. Let me sleep. But it’s then when I said those words that something soft goes around my shoulder and I can smell the scent of zakuro. Zakuro that didn’t grow in Aizu. But I knew why she liked them but even up to now? In spite of what the Buddha let happen? Didn’t Kishibojin, giver and protector of children betray her prayers?
“Do not be angry.” Was her response.
Was I? Angry? I feel incorporeal hands cover my eyes and I feel much comfort, just like that time in the fields in the precious month of summer. If only I can go back. Maybe i can and everything will be in it’s proper place.
An orderly closure of this place. A voice echoes but it’s no longer what I want. It was never what they wanted in the first place. If I was a stronger man, I’m told I could’ve done it in an instant.
“And yet you didn’t.” And the hands covering my eyes slowly lifts, allowing day light in. I look down and it’s the tenement houses and children running and -laughing-. Again in summer but it turns snowy white and the sun remained letting everything shimmer and this time the children laughed in the snow, rolling over it like it was feather. My eyes wander to one child in particular, a boy making the outline of an angel. Didn’t I? A long time ago wanted a boy… And also asked her, that one outside the wilderness, to make angels.
“We can only move forward. No matter how much we wish to return.” I hear her whisper but don’t see her face anymore and instead I stare further down the road, to a young woman calling to the children and her brother. “You belong -here-. Not with us.”
And the scene changes again, this time no laughing children. Just tilled fields and run-down houses remained. It’s a different time. “Is this still -our- time in Gonohe?” I ask.
“He’ll be -fine-.” I try to reassure her. “It’s better this way.”
She looks at me and tries to cup my cheek but her hand merely goes through my face. She shakes her head. “It’s never better.”
Not being able to touch me, she reaches up slowly with both hands as if catching something floating in the air. She smiles with her eyes softly and holds out her hands for me to see. A momiji leaf…
In winter?
I look at her and take the leaf from her hand. She wouldn’t know the meaning of the Momiji. It was from that time outside the wilderness. It’s color orange at the center that turns a fiery red as it reaches the edges had always caught my eye and this one a bright and intense red was one of my favorites for all it’s meaning. Just as the sakura blooms for only a short time in spring, the momiji tree is -strong- and stands tall giving shade the entire season. I liked the former for it’s transient beauty reminding me of my fallen comrades that shined brightly as much as they could until their time ran out. But I wanted something -more-, something that last for the entire season and is hardy enough to return after winter.
But is there truly more? Even with my creed of killing evil swiftly, is that enough -now-? It was back then but even that has changed.
“Not for you Gorou-san.” She answers as she reads my mind. “Remember?”
A man must live first for himself, then his family, then his community and finally for his country.
You must learn to serve and protect. Your loved ones, your lord and most of all Japan, that is the essence of a Samurai.
I wanted… In these rather peaceful times, the only thing that awaits are old grudges, personal struggles and petty or organized crimes. The Battousai maybe right that manslayers are no longer needed. But I’ve not yet found a way to live a life outside of battle. Not yet. A man must first live for himself, that was the most basic thing the Kyokuchou taught me when I thought myself irredeemable. And though unlike father, I no longer have a lord to serve and protect, there are others in Aizu and one in Gonohe regardless of how things have turned out or -will-. After that, then maybe just like I did back then with the Shinsengumi or even with Shishio… I can serve my country and walk the way of the Bushi again, regardless of what the future brings.
Suddenly I turn to tell Yaso what I remembered but I’m blinded by the morning sun blazing through the thin papered window. Regardless of what the future brings. Get up.