#kenshingumi

That afternoon, he was occupied with tidying his desk drawers, which had already been delayed for long enough. It was quiet, and the others were out on midday patrol. He didn’t think much of the sound of someone’s entrance, until there was a thud, like a stack of papers had just been tossed in front of him. He glanced up to confirm it, then at the man who’d just delivered them. With his sleeveless shirt and greased hair, he could have been mistaken for a gangster. Even the self-assured way he carried himself was reminiscent of Sagara, although the Kansai accent put an end to further comparison.

“Hey. Are you Officer Kamiya?”

“I am.”

“Name’s Sawagejo Cho. A mutual friend sent me here to work with you.”

He assumed this was the person Saito had mentioned. “It’s good to meet you. Is there something I can do for you, before I’m on leave next week?”

“On leave?” He echoed, in surprise.

“Yes, I’m going out of town.”

Sawagejo opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He scratched his neck, muttering. “Whatever, it’s fine. I’m used to working solo. Here, I was given these notes so you can catch up.” He slid the papers closer to Koshijiro, enough to confirm Saito’s handwriting.

To put it simply, Saito was following through on Shishio’s dealings. He had not conquered villages alone, he had financial backing from a number of individuals who desired the ruin of the current government, if only for their own self-interest. Shishio’s warship, however, was the most challenging. Saito had deduced that its source had been separate from any of the other dissidents, and far wealthier too. Sawagejo would be uncovering leads on the streets, with any assistance Koshijiro could provide.

“You get it, right? Can’t let this fellow slip away from us.”

“Yes, I understand. Where there’s one warship, there may be an entire fleet waiting.” Koshijiro returned the documents to him. “What is your plan so far?”

“I have an idea on how the money was funneled. I snuck a peek at some documents from the base, courtesy of Shishio’s right hand man.” Sawagejo proceeded to explain, turning the pages.

Whoever Shishio’s second was, he had certainly taken advantage of loopholes to transfer the cash under a multitude of company fronts and false identities. The thread had vanished two months ago, but Sawagejo was confident he could pick it up again. With Koshijiro’s authority, they were able to peruse the legal record. While Sawagejo investigated on the streets, Koshijiro would authenticate the short-lived businesses with existing documentation.

“It will be tedious.” Koshijiro warned. “If you feel frustrated, let me know. A weary spirit makes no progress.”

“Nah, I need to keep myself busy.” The other man muttered, his expression pensive. “Keep the papers, I’m headed out. The Kamiya dojo’s where I can find you, right?”

“Yes, it is. You can find me there when I’m not at the station, so knock on the gates when you arrive.”

Sawagejo only acknowledged this with a shrug, before walking away. He must have suffered a loss, Koshijiro thought, and whatever it was, he still hadn’t recovered yet.

In his spare time, Koshijiro had cleaned the house in preparation. Granted, the dust would be back before long, yet it would be less work for Himura. Or anyone who decided to clean, of course. The soap needed to be restocked anyway, and he stopped by the market the day prior to his departure. It was a quick errand, but he lingered. There was also something else he had to account for…

“Good morning, Kamiya-san!” Tae’s familiar voice called out, and he turned to see her and Tsubame, who was carrying a basket of persimmons.

“Good morning, Sekihara-san, Tsubame-chan. How are you?”

“We’re doing well. As you saw last time, business is booming at the Akabeko.” Tae was pleased. “We’re keeping busy, aren’t we, Tsubame?”

“Yes, Tae-san.” The persimmons’ weight didn’t seem to affect her posture; she had become a little stronger. “Um, Kamiya-san? How’s everyone in Kyoto doing?”

“Still recovering, but I plan to come home with them next week.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She breathed, smiling now. “Yahiko-kun’s all better too?”

“He is, and I’m sorry I didn’t have a letter for you.” He paused. “However, I think you’ll find he may have something better in store.”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t that nice, Tsubame?” Tae had a knowing glint in her eye. “He must have bought a gift for you.”

Flustered, the girl renewed her interest in the fruit. “I’m just glad he’s alright…”

“We’re looking forward to having them back. Were you trying to find more soap, Kamiya-san?” She had noticed the cloth bag in his grip.

“I have what I need, and I was also looking around.” He then admitted. “I was thinking of a suitable gift. It’s overdue, but I never did anything for Kaoru’s birthday since I left for Satsuma.”

“Ah, so that’s what it was. What were you considering?”

“I used to make her a new shinai every year.” The task had required two hands, to hold the bamboo steady while cutting the necessary notches. “I don’t think I can, any longer.”

“…Well, a change of pace would be welcome.” Tae breezily said. “Kaoru’s very good at taking care of other people, but she doesn’t request anything for herself.”

He nodded in agreement, as he thought it over. “A new uniform, perhaps, as befitting the master of Kamiya Kasshin.”

“A new kimono, perhaps.” The slightest hint of exasperation tightened her smile. “Really, Kamiya-san! I think you should leave the choice of fabric to her. She knows what’s fashionable.”

“Of course.” He tried to maintain a stoic face, to conceal his embarrassment. “I do owe her for two birthdays and my absence. Once they’re home, she can plan a day’s outing and I’ll treat everyone to dinner at the end.”

“And if you decide to spend dinner at the Akabeko, I’ll reserve a table.”

“Thank you. I don’t think the others will object.”

“I heard they’re planning to attend a festival? They’ll have a good time.” Her voice was warm with nostalgia. “We’ll be waiting for all of you to return; please, have a safe trip.”

“Travel safely.” Tsubame echoed.

“We’ll be here soon enough.” He promised, and they parted ways. He did peer into a few clothing shops, just for preliminary comparison.

***

Takani had returned the spare key to him, and he handed it off to Dr. Gensai, who promised to watch the house in his absence.

“And when we see you again, you can expect a welcome home celebration too.” He gave a hearty laugh. “Ayame and Suzume have been asking every day when they can visit.”

Koshijiro smiled. “Well, I’m sure Kaoru and the others will be happy to see them. If there’s anything urgent, please let me know right away.”

“Of course. Have a good trip!”

Just before leaving, he locked his notes in the drawer below the family altar. The money trail hadn’t been fully uncovered, but he had found a point of connection. Although the funds had been divided and changed hands, small portions at a time had run through a candle-making shop. In such amounts, the transactions would have passed as insignificant. He had informed Sawagejo yesterday, who would pay a visit and observe.

“I’ll be back soon.” He said to the portraits of Kyoko and his mother. He checked the house once more, that it was secured properly, before closing the gate behind him.

The train was on time, and settling in his seat, he considered taking a nap so he would be refreshed upon his arrival. He had traveled often enough, that he could now fall into a light sleep to pass the time. In the background, he overheard there was a last second arrival on board, the conductor admonishing whoever it was. Then, they began to move. And to his surprise, Sawagejo slid onto the opposite cushion.

The other man’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, you’re headed to Kyoto too?”

“I am.” He realized he never had disclosed his destination. “And what about you? I was under the impression you would be staying in Tokyo for the time being.”

“I got some news and I wanted to share it. In person.” He then changed the subject. “Anyway, for the investigation, I went to the shop. Seems shady, and I heard it’s working under the table for a Chinese enterprise. That’s as far as I managed.”

“In a week, that’s certainly more than enough. You’ve done good work, and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Sawagejo grunted in response. “It’s not over yet.”

“No, it isn’t.” Koshijiro paused. “I thought of another angle. The warship was a massive commission. Whoever the original backer was, they may have financed other pursuits. It would be worth looking into large luxury items, perhaps Western.”

“Like a train?” He gestured to their surroundings.

“A train requires a railroad, and such visibility limits opportunity for attack. Another warship would be too suspicious, but I can’t think of anything else they would try.”

“So you think they’ll do it again?”

“They’ve gone to such lengths already with Shishio, and even after his failure, they’re still transferring the funds. Reinvesting, you could say.”

He sighed. “Damn, it’s just the same old story. Rich folks, making everyone else dance to their whims.” He was quiet for the remainder of the journey, only offering a brief goodbye at the station.

When he arrived at the Shirobeko, he only saw Sae and a couple of the staff. According to them, Sagara, Takani, and Yahiko were helping with errands before the expected influx for the festival tonight. Himura and Kaoru, however, were upstairs, and before he could inquire further, a group of customers came to signal the start of the lunch rush. He stepped aside, heading up to the second floor.

As he drew closer, he caught their muffled voices. Were they talking? The door to the girls’ room was open, but Himura’s was closed. Trying to avoid creaks in the floorboards, he pressed one ear to the rice paper.

“This one remembered your words. ‘Let’s go home to Tokyo together.’ And that gave this one the strength to continue the fight.”

Then, it was too quiet. Unable to bear not knowing, Koshijiro opened the sliding door. “Lunch is ready. Also, I’m here.” He added belatedly.

“Otou-san!” Kaoru startled. Her hand was in the air, as if she had just let go. She and Himura were standing by the window, the sunshine pouring in. “You’re early!”

“Good afternoon, Kamiya-dono.” Himura inclined his head, giving a polite smile. He was standing without the cane, and if any bandages remained, they weren’t visible.

“Good afternoon, Himura-san. And Kaoru, there weren’t any delays, thankfully. I see you’re both well.”

“Yeah, Kenshin’s so much better.” His daughter beamed. “How was your week, Otou-san?”

“Not as eventful as finding three orphans, but I have a new assignment. I can discuss it later, after we eat.” He gestured to the hallway, indicating he’d follow suit after them.

When they reached the dining area, Koshijiro quickly spotted Takani and Yahiko, and that Shinomori and Makimachi had arrived as well. Their postures were tense, surrounding Sagara’s taller figure. He was standing over a table, apparently talking to one of the customers. His voice rang out.

“What the hell are you doing here, broom head?”

That made them hurry over, and Koshijiro blinked when he saw who Sagara was questioning. Hadn’t he just traveled with this man?

“Huh?! Kamiya-san?” Sawagejo’s jaw dropped. The cup of sake in his hand tilted dangerously. “You know these people?”

“I was going to ask the same of you, regarding how you’re acquainted with my family.”

“You never said you were coming here!”

“Wait, you know the old man?” Sagara interjected.

Koshijiro provided the explanation. “We were working together in Tokyo over the past few days. I don’t believe we shared the exact details of our travel plans with each other, so this is certainly a surprise.”

“Kamiya-san, why would you collaborate with him?” Makimachi jerked a thumb towards Sawagejo. “This guy’s really no good! Himura-san and I already know what he’s like.”

“Hey, I’ve changed. I’m working for the police now.” Sawagejo downed his drink in one go, wiped his mouth, and said. “Look, I’m here to talk about the rest of the Ten Swords.”

The rest? It suddenly made sense. Sawagejo was one of Shishio’s followers, who had since been converted to their side. However, he didn’t remember the man’s description from any of the fights that Sagara, Yahiko, or Kaoru described. And there was Makimachi’s comment. Then…he had to be the swordsman who forced Himura to decide between a baby’s life and the vow not to kill.

Koshijiro frowned at Sawagejo. “You were the one who kidnapped the child?”

Immediately, he paled. “You know about that? No, wait, of course you do. Yeah, I did, and a whole lot of other shitty things. Saito offered me the chance to work for him, in exchange for a full pardon. And who else is gonna employ me? At least, until I find something better.”

“That’s so scummy!” Makimachi protested. She seemed ready to lunge at him, but Shinomori’s hand touched her elbow in warning and the intensity of his dark eyes caused her to falter.

Himura stepped forward in her place, his expression guarded. “…So, while you’re here, please share your information.”

They sat at the table, and Sawagejo recounted the fates of his remaining former comrades. Some were working for the government, offering their strength and skills at various posts. The scythe-wielder who had battled Kaoru and Makimachi was among them, or would be, after recovering.

“Kamatari’s not healing too well though.” Sawagejo poured himself another shot.

Yahiko glanced at Kaoru. “But you always say about Kamiya Kasshin…”

“I didn’t mean to!” Her gaze darted to Koshijiro. “It was a clean break; it shouldn’t have caused complications.”

Sympathetically, he clasped her shoulder, as Sawagejo continued. “Oh, it’s not the knee. It’s her heart. She took Shishio’s death really hard. When I last saw her at the clinic she was in, I told her that Shishio wanted us to spread his true story, to counter the government’s version of events. Of course, that gave her some hope.”

“Oh.” Kaoru exhaled, while Makimachi gave a skeptical look.

“Is that true?”

Sawagejo rolled his eyes. “No way. Shishio never said anything like that. Kamatari can’t move on unless she believes he’d want her to. Well, so long as she’s alive, she’s not dead.” There was a certain kindness to his behavior though.

“Look, the only one I care about is Anji.” Sagara was as straightforward as ever. “What happened to him? He has too much hatred for the government to work for them.”

“Yeah, and I guess I have to thank you that he wasn’t executed. He turned himself into the police, with another he rescued. But, he wants to pay for his crimes. He’s serving twenty-five years in Hokkaido.”

Koshijiro half expected Sagara to give an outburst, but he didn’t. Instead, he only appeared pensive. “That’s…a long time.”

“The last person, you haven’t mentioned yet.” Himura spoke up. “Shishio’s most devoted follower. What happened to him?”

Sawagejo’s mouth twisted. “Hoji’s dead. He wanted a trial, to have the chance to praise Shishio’s memory. In the end, he was denied.”

“This one expected as much.” Himura quietly said. “Those in power would prefer to never hear of Shishio again, to snuff out the shadow of the Bakumatsu.”

“Yeah. He was offered a deal, to put his brains to use if he could swear loyalty and forget about Shishio’s message. Somehow, he had a hidden blade left on him and slit his own throat. I saw his cell last night. He wrote in his own blood on the wall: the world is dead to me and I go to serve Shishio-sama in hell.”

No one made a sound. Even if the man had schemed to bring about a rebellion, he didn’t deserve such a morbid outcome.

Yahiko frowned. “The government didn’t look after him. Then, what were we fighting for?”

“That’s just how it is, kid.” Sawagejo had moved onto his green tea; talking had parched his throat. “Yumi-neesan knew that. She used to be the most popular courtesan in Yoshiwara, and when we were drinking together, she said she had pride in that life. Until the Maria Luz incident.” At the name, Takani clicked her tongue in recognition, her face souring.

“Maria Luz!” Kaoru knew the reference, and so did Koshijiro. Five years ago, as part of a response to a Peruvian ship, the government had refused to compensate prostitutes for the freedom they’d lost. It had equated those women to livestock.

Yahiko and Makimachi were the youngest and brought up to speed. Makimachi was rightfully furious, and Yahiko scratched his head. “It just gets harder and harder, to tell who’s right.”

“Well, I have to go. Kamiya-san, Hoji was the one who procured the battleship. I’m going back to Tokyo, keep investigating. It’s all I can do now.”

“Take care, and thank you.” Koshijiro answered. “I’m sorry, for the allies and friends you’ve lost.”

His smile was bitter. “Like I said, that’s how the world is. Oh, right. Almost forgot about the two who escaped. I don’t think Soujiro will ever be caught. He’s probably wandering off somewhere, smiling and eating dango. And Iwanbo, I’m not sure what became of him, but he’s stupid and harmless. Now, that really is all from me. See ya.” He left the money for his drinks on the table and stood, shuffling to the Shirobeko’s entrance.

“One more thing.” Himura called out to him. “When you visit Sadojima Hoji’s grave, tell him that history will forget Shishio Makoto, Komagata Yumi, and the rest of the Ten Swords. However, they will not be forgotten by this one. Never.”

“I don’t know if he’d like hearing that from the enemy, but sure, whatever.” With a two-fingered salute, he disappeared into the main street.

Yahiko appeared to be in deep contemplation. “Hey, Kenshin. We won, so that means our way is right, doesn’t it?”

Himura evenly replied. “That would be Shishio’s way of thinking. Only the victors can write history, and only future generations can determine whether they were right or wrong. However, Shishio’s message of the strong overcoming the weak…that was wrong. Very wrong.” He repeated firmly.

Koshijiro watched the Shirobeko’s front curtains, still fluttering. To him, there was no question that innocents would have been hurt if Shishio had succeeded in his plans, and many already had in his takeover of villages. But the Ten Swords had their own legitimate grievances against the government, and without a doubt, there had to be others who shared in their sentiments. As time passed, the recollection of war would fade, and discontent would begin to brew again. How long then, would this peaceful time endure?

“So,” Sagara drawled. “We’re your family?”

Now, Koshijiro felt embarrassed. Well, there was no taking it back, and he had to embrace it. He gruffly replied. “The chief said so, and I agree. We are here together because the bonds between us are important. Family is the best description for what we are.”

“I knew it! You’ve softened up.” Sagara’s grin widened further.

“Otou-san, you really must have been lonely.” Kaoru couldn’t resist joking too, but she happily threw her arms around him. “You’re right. I’m glad you think that way.”

Yahiko seemed unsure how to react, fidgeting shyly, and his ears were very red. The trace of melancholy within Takani had resurfaced, though the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned. And Himura’s expression was incredibly fond, as he returned Koshijiro’s gaze.

Awkwardly, he patted Kaoru’s back and cleared his throat. “We still haven’t had lunch yet. Let’s eat, and take care of what needs to be done before the festival.”

The event was scheduled to start later in the afternoon, lasting until midnight. Partway through lunch, the Oniwabanshuu stopped by, to relay that they’d be conducting surveillance as well. Okina lamented not being able to drink to his heart’s content; it was good that the four younger men and women would keep him in check. Nevertheless, he must have snuck a shot or two, because he loudly sang an old folk ballad at the top of his lungs. Koshijiro suspected it was to get a reaction out of Shinomori, but it only served to hasten the spy group’s exit.

When the heat of the day subsided, they separated to change. Koshijiro had brought the last yukata he’d worn to a summer festival, a plain red-brown like fallen leaves. It still fit well, though his left sleeve would have to be pinned out of the way. He left the room at the same time as Shinomori exited from across the hall. The younger man immediately lowered his head and gestured with an arm covered in charcoal gray, for Koshijiro to head down first.

“We can go together.” Koshijiro suggested. “It’s good that you’re coming with us, to enjoy the fresh air. That itself is as good as meditating.”

Shinomori inclined his head. “…I suppose.”

Outside the Shirobeko, most of the others were waiting. Makimachi wore a sky-colored yukata, patterned with orange and black goldfish. Standing beside her, Takani was clad in lavender, with a striped obi. Sagara’s maroon sleeves were already rolled up, and Yahiko was fiddling with the collar of his green yukata, adorned with golden bamboo.

“Aoshi-samaaaaa!” Makimachi was thoroughly delighted by his appearance. “You look perfect!”

His stoic expression didn’t crack, but he did meet her gaze and nod. It was a slight improvement from before, and he seemed better in her presence.

“Where are Kaoru and Himura-san?” Koshijiro asked, and Sagara jabbed a thumb upstairs.

“Jou-chan said something about fixing her hair, and Kenshin is cleaning the sakabato. With his yukata, he’ll have to carry it in a satchel, but he doesn’t expect a fight. It’s just that he couldn’t leave it behind, after all.”

It would also be the first time he carried it since the duel with Shishio, Koshijiro realized. “I’ll see how they’re doing.” He pivoted, returning the way he came. He was about to knock on Himura’s door first, but it opened and the younger man blinked at him in surprise.

“Kamiya-dono. This one apologizes for the delay.” Himura’s yukata was off-white, with the outlines of foliage in navy thread. Koshijiro didn’t recognize it, so it must have been purchased in Kyoto, but the cloth bag over his shoulder was certainly familiar. It was from the dojo, used for holding shinai. Presumably, it now concealed the reverse blade. Had he borrowed it from Kaoru?

Remembering himself, Koshijiro shook his head. “No, it’s alright. As a swordsman, I understand. You wouldn’t feel comfortable otherwise.”

He gave a thoughtful look. “And you are comfortable now?”

“Only after many years. I have two decades on you, so please don’t feel rushed.” This sentiment caused Himura to give a light laugh, and Koshijiro couldn’t resist smiling.

“Kenshin! Otou-san!” Kaoru stepped out, in a dark blue yukata overflowing with hand-sized white blossoms and leaves. Her obi was pale gold, and he recognized the rosy shade of her ribbon, inherited from her mother. “I thought I heard your voices. Sorry, but I’m ready now. Let’s go!”

Koshijiro glanced at Himura, who was staring at her. After a moment, the younger man startled, murmuring. “You look…very nice, Kaoru-dono.”

She blushed. “Well, you look very nice too.”

No one moved right away, and Koshijiro deliberately cleared his throat. “You’re both suitable, so we should meet with everyone. We still have the rest of the day ahead of us.” They rejoined the others, and as a group, they leisurely walked along the main street. He did check if Himura and Kaoru were behaving. With their outfits in similar themes, but reversed colors, they made a complementary picture.

It was early enough that it wasn’t crowded yet, though it was about the right time for young families to enjoy the festival. Sweet and savory aromas wove through the air, leading to wagashi shops or charcoal grills in the open. Colorful paper lanterns were strung up, and the rumble of taiko drums signaled there was a performance not too far away. The artisans of Kyoto were already prepared, showcasing their goods. Cosmetics were among them, and Takani bent over the little pots of rouge and powders. She noticed their gazes, especially Kaoru’s and Makimachi’s, and asked. “Are the two of you interested?”

“A little bit.” Makimachi confessed. “Okon and Omasu have let me try some of theirs, but I’ve never had my own. I was saving my money for travel.”

“Makeup wears off during practice, so I don’t usually wear it.” Kaoru said.

“Well, this is a good opportunity. Come here.” She beckoned, and the girls huddled.

“Guess that’s our cue. Come on, there’s gotta be a few games we can play.” Sagara surveyed the stalls. “Like…scooping goldfish?”

“Where would we even put them?” Yahiko was skeptical. “In one of the Shirobeko’s pots? Come on, Sano, you gotta think about where the money is. And that’s at senbonbiki.”

“The one where you pick a string and win whatever you pull?”

“Yeah, usually scammers run those, because it’s easy to place decoy strings. But I can tell which ones lead to the prizes.” With a devious grin, he cracked his knuckles, and Koshijiro was reminded of his pickpocketing history.

Himura was amenable to the idea. “That sounds fun. We’ll follow your lead, Yahiko.”

With his chest puffed out, he easily located a stall, which was peddling an array of items through the game. Folding fans, spinning tops, painted daruma dolls, hand drums, pinwheels, small ebony figurines. The teenage vendor looked bored, more interested in eyeing the women passing by.

“These are just kids’ toys.” Sagara complained.

Yahiko was offended. “Oh, yeah? Go on and pick a string, I bet you get nothing!”

As he planted down the money in answer to the challenge, he smirked. “Just watch, you point and I’ll pull it.”

“Fine, that wooden tiger!”

While Sagara made good on his promise and procured a fox sculpture, Koshijiro’s eyes fell upon a ribbon. It appeared to be cut from Western cloth, delicate blue flowers on white, and was tied in a bow. The ends were also trimmed with lace, to prevent fraying. It would be nice for Kaoru. He glanced at Himura, and they made eye contact. So, they had the same idea.

“You can take your turn first, Himura-san.” He offered.

“It’s alright, Kamiya-dono. After you.”

“Very well.” Koshijiro paid, thinking he had an idea of how to obtain that ribbon. With confidence, he chose the string he believed was most likely, and the other end…was tied to a baby rattle. It jangled tauntingly at him as he lifted it.

Sagara gave a rowdy laugh, while Yahiko expressed skepticism. “Is it what you wanted, Kamiya-san?”

“It wasn’t what I hoped for, but I can’t put it back.”

“You can always have another try.”

“After everyone else has gone at least once.” He looked to Himura, who had just handed over the necessary fee.

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.” He approached the stall, considering the strings. Then, he reached forward, and there was the ribbon, falling into his hand. “Ah, how lucky.”

“Indeed.” Koshijiro raised his eyebrows. “You chose well.”

Yahiko wasn’t as enthusiastic. “I guess you can go again after Kamiya-san?”

“No, this one is satisfied with the ribbon.” He smiled.

“That frilly thing? Hey!”

Sagara had smacked the spot between his shoulder blades. “Obviously, he’s not keeping it. He’s gonna give it to Jou-chan.”

“W-well, yeah, I figured.” Yahiko muttered.

Shinomori then stepped up; he had been so quiet, but it seemed he was interested. He didn’t take long to deliberate, and his prize was one of the larger folding fans, silver in color. It reflected the late afternoon light, a bright patch shifting across his face.

“Aha, there you are!” Apparently, the glint had caught Makimachi’s eye, and she waved vigorously as she skipped over to them. Kaoru and Takani were behind her; Koshijiro noticed how their mouths were tinted in deeper shades. “Hm? Aoshi-sama, what’s that you’ve got?”

“For you.” He handed the fan to Makimachi, who dazedly accepted it.

“O-oh. Thank you…” She looked ready to melt. She was so transfixed that she didn’t notice the roving eyes of the vendor, whose attention had now turned to their arrivals.

His whistle immediately sounded like trouble, and it was followed by a sleazy greeting. “Hey, ladies. Wanna give a tug?”

Kaoru scowled. “No, thank you!”

“Find a better way to lure your customers first.” Takani pointedly turned her shoulder towards him, but her eyes held restrained contempt.

“We’re done here.” Koshijiro dismissed the vendor and urged everyone to keep walking. He looked over his shoulder to glare at the teenager again, and he wasn’t the only one. Himura’s expression was darkly threatening, like when he was about to draw his sakabato.

However, Sagara addressed the teenager, grabbing his collar and lifting him off the ground. He had a wide grin that didn’t meet his eyes, as he roughly shook the younger boy. “Oops, I meant to get another string, but I missed. Hm? Nothing’s coming out of you?” Unceremoniously, he dropped the teenager and made a crude gesture. “We better not see you around again.”

The boy had gone purple in the face out of rage, and Sagara sprinted back to them. Now, they really had to leave with haste, and when they were far enough, Yahiko burst into laughter.

“I thought he was gonna pee himself!”

“I thought you were going to get in trouble.” Takani adds, though without malice.

“Well, if it wasn’t me, it’d be someone else.” Sagara shrugged. “Oh, and here.” He tossed the fox sculpture towards her, and she reflexively caught it, inspecting with suspicion.

“What’s this?”

“A thanks for fixing me up.”

“The only thanks I need is for you to be fully healed.” She retorted. “But I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. And we all won something, didn’t we?” He purposefully nudged Himura, who made a startled noise.

Kaoru looked curiously at him. “Oh? Kenshin, what’d you get?”

He directed his full attention towards her, opening his hands to reveal the blue and white cloth. “It’s a hair ribbon, but this one thinks it will look much better on you.” His expression was gentle, as he held it out.

Shyly, her fingers closed over the knot, and as he withdrew, Koshijiro narrowed his eyes. It was hard to tell because of the growing shadows, but had his pinky run over hers?

“It’s so pretty! I’d love to try it on, but I’ll save it for another day, when I’m not as sweaty.” She lightly said.

“This one doesn’t mind seeing you sweaty.” Instantly, he froze. Kaoru’s eyes had grown wide, and in the most panicked way they’d ever seen him, he urgently gestured. As if he could take back his words. “Ah, w-well, this one meant…it doesn’t matter to this one. Whether you’re sweaty or not, this one could never think badly of you, Kaoru-dono.”

“Th-thanks.” Kaoru managed to say, her face flushed.

The atmosphere was painfully awkward. At least, nobody asked what Koshijiro had won. The rattle was tucked inside his obi and he kept his hand on it to prevent more jangling.

They moved on, enjoying the sights and sounds. Dinner turned out to be Shinomori’s choice, of excellent sushi with a view of the setting sun from the roadside. As the sky darkened, people were meandering to the riverbank. Makimachi urged them to follow suit. “It’s the fireworks display! It should be starting soon. Come on, let’s go!”

As the crowds grew, it was hard to find available space. They ended up near a cluster of bushes; with just enough room to breathe though, they couldn’t complain. While they waited, Koshijiro was content to look after his daughter…the family that had come together over the past months.

A whistle, then a reverberating boom. Again, but closer this time. The others gasped, pointing to the horizon. The colors swam in his vision.

It had been a year since he last heard fireworks, and what came to his mind now was Satsuma. The approaching explosions, the tension, the memory of his body coming apart. And the worst phantom pain he’d experienced in a long time seized his left shoulder.

He was positioned at the back of the group, and he stumbled away. He couldn’t fall apart and ruin their experience. He bumped into a wall, not hard enough to hurt, but he drew his hand over his eyes. His knees threatened to buckle; it took all his composure to remain standing.

“Kamiya-dono.”

He forced his gaze up, to see Himura on his right side. The other man kindly smiled. “Shall we find somewhere quieter?”

Unable to speak, he nodded.

“Then, let’s go.” Firmly, carefully, Himura guided him further away from the river. The noise wasn’t completely inescapable, but distance helped.

When the pain began to ebb and his surroundings came into focus, he recognized they were outside the establishment they’d spent dinner at. Finally drawing a full breath, he exhaled. “Himura-san…thank you.”

“It’s the least this one could do.” In the lantern light, Himura’s hair seemed brighter. “This one could tell you were remembering.”

“Unexpectedly so. I didn’t realize fireworks could set it off.”

“Such things cannot be predicted. Kyoto is also a place of many memories for this one, from over ten years ago.” And at this, he appeared troubled.

“Are you alright?”

Himura faced him, thinking it over. At length, he said. “If this one had fought Shishio earlier in the Meiji era, this one would have lost. Right now, this one has a place to return to and that knowledge gave strength. The will, to survive. This one wasn’t thinking about the past this city holds, but of going home. To Tokyo.”

Koshijiro stared at him, with a new regard. “I see. Thank you for your honesty.”

Then, there was Kaoru, emerging from the crowd. The others trailed behind her, and when she recognized Koshijiro, she waved. Upon noticing his expression, her face fell. “Otou-san? You’re not okay.” She immediately stepped over, gently taking hold of his elbow. “Did the fireworks remind you of the war?”

“Satsuma. And…” He looked at his left shoulder.

Her arms came around him, and she patted his back soothingly. “You don’t have to talk about it. How about we go back to the Shirobeko?”

“You can drop me off. The rest of you can enjoy the night.”

“Otou-san, how can we? And it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

His dear daughter, she always knew what to say. She took his left side and Himura his right, and they supported him the entire way back. Shinomori and Makimachi found the quickest route, that traversed behind stone buildings to dull the booming fireworks. Takani bought cold tea, for rehydrating, and Sagara and Yahiko kept an eye out for danger. And so, they returned early and without fanfare, but he was touched.

***

For the remainder of the weekend, they were worn out and recovering. Makimachi and Shinomori took their leave early, preparing to reopen the Aoiya.

“Do you need any help?” Himura offered.

“We’ve got it covered, and anyway, we can’t have you seeing our secret spots!” Makimachi winked. “We’ll invite you over when we’re done!”

That was perfectly fine, because Koshijiro intended to join Kaoru and Yahiko for practice. It was the first time he would, and Kaoru was ecstatic. While they stretched in the yard, the other three sat on the porch to observe.

“I’ll reserve the one-armed katas for the dojo.” Koshijiro said. “But I’d like to show you something else. Yahiko.” He addressed the boy, who quickly straightened his posture. “You’ve seen Kaoru perform Hadome and Hawatari, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, when we were rescuing Megumi. Kaoru said they were the succession techniques that you created.”

He nodded. “So, what was my intention behind these moves?”

“Huh? Um…”

“If you need a reminder, I can demonstrate them again.” Kaoru offered. “Otou-san, you can be my opponent.” They only needed to do so once, before Yahiko cried out.

“Oh, I get it now! It’s to catch the enemy’s weapon, while keeping your own!”

“That’s correct.” Koshijiro smiled. “If you can discern that much already, you’ll be an excellent swordsman in the future.”

“W-well, that’s what I want.” He was flustered and hastily asked. “But can you perform the succession techniques with one hand? Kaoru used both wrists for Hadome.”

“I’ve created a new technique, which I’ll show you now. Remember what you said. Kaoru, let’s switch off.” They returned to their initial stances, with his daughter attacking this time. She struck, the bamboo cutting the air. Time seemed to slow down, as he waited for the right moment.

Now!

He aimed just above her hilt and locked in as they collided. The force of her blow reverberated through his body, but he was grounded. Successful. The base of her shinai was trapped between the hilt of his, and his own grip. “Hizadome!”

Kaoru’s eyes widened in realization. “A block…with the hilt?!”

“You can still do it, you can still catch a sword with one hand!” Yahiko crowed with excitement.

“And next…Hawatari!” Having caught her off guard, he surged, quickly retaliating with an offensive strike to disarm her. She retreated to avoid injury, but with her shinai in the grass, the spar was concluded. Koshijiro returned to form, explaining. “That remained unchanged, so the name is the same.”

“But Hizadome,” Kaoru was awed. “It’s like Hadome, and yet, not quite. One more time, Otou-san?”

He agreed, and afterwards, Sagara was the first to run up to them. “Damn, you really thought it through. Even just seeing it, I can tell how much strength and precision you need. And with one hand!”

“This one understands. It is because you have one hand, that you can carry out this maneuver.” Himura lifted his sakabato, wrapping his fingers around it. “With one hand, you are left with a gap on the sword’s hilt, and with the hilt, it creates a space to block a weapon. This one saw that it was narrow, in order to not lose your own grip.”

“Yes, I had to work out the proper distance, but I believe this is enough for a sword. It may need adjusting for larger weapons.”

Yahiko scrutinized Koshijiro’s hand. “And the hilt doesn’t break?”

“The hilt is strong, and because it’s closer to my body, it’s less likely to break. It’s the same as when you see broken swords. They never break at the hilt, only towards the middle of the blade.”

“Oh, I get it.” He seemed to sink into deeper thought.

“Aren’t you worried about losing a finger?” Takani spoke up. “I understand you’ve done this for years, but it seems dangerous.”

“No more than catching a sword with the backs of your wrists.” He wryly said. “A succession technique is not meant to be a part of your regular repertoire. It is the pinnacle of your personal ability and experience, to be utilized in special circumstances.”

“It depends on your judgment too, if you feel like you can win.” Kaoru added. “Even though the mansion fight wasn’t that bad, I wanted to prove that I was worthy of being the head instructor. So, Otou-san, how did you come up with this?”

“The idea came to me with the start of Himura-san’s rehabilitation, when we were assisting him with his stretches. It made me consider the grip on the shinai, and how it could be utilized.” He shared details of his work in the dojo, and the day passed blissfully with kenjutsu practice.

The Aoiya held their grand reopening in the evening. Of course, the Oniwabanshuu let loose, and Okina happily showcased the latest additions to his singing repertoire. At the rate things were going, they’d have a party every day until they departed.

***

“You can’t be leaving already?!” Makimachi bemoaned in the morning. Kaoru had asked to speak to her and Okina privately, sharing that they’d just purchased their tickets. In one of the inn’s rooms, Koshijiro stood behind her for support.

“Sorry, Misao.” Kaoru said. “We’ve intruded on the Shirobeko long enough.”

“But you can stay at the Aoiya instead! And it’s not like you have more students to teach in Tokyo.”

At this sore point, Kaoru’s smile became forced. “That’s nice of you to offer and I know you mean well, but I’m still the master of Kamiya Kasshin. We have to advertise, Otou-san.”

“Yes, we’ll do that. You all have been incredibly hospitable and we’re very grateful. However, we need to go home.” He said.

“It’s a little sudden though.” Okina stroked his beard. “Why not stay another two or three days?”

Kaoru replied. “Thank you, but we can’t refund the tickets. And for Kenshin, Kyoto is a place of bitter memories. We shouldn’t stay longer than we have to.”

“Of course, of course. We only know the Himura of today, but he was the infamous Hitokiri Battousai.”

“That’s all in the past though!” Makimachi was stubbornly holding her ground. “Himura’s good now, he should move forward!”

“I can’t disagree,” Kaoru admitted. “But Kenshin’s feelings are his own.”

“Then, you should try and cheer him up!”

Okina spoke up again. “Both of you make good points. If you allow me, I’d like to suggest something…an all-day tour of the city’s most thrilling sights!” Exuberantly, he launched into a well-rehearsed speech. “The premier entertainment of Kyoto, combined with our famous architectural structures and historical tales. It’ll lift anyone’s spirits! Aoshi’s at the temple, but tell the others. We can squeeze in everything if we leave now. Hurry, hurry!”

However, it was difficult to track them down; Koshijiro and Kaoru had to split. He found Yahiko at the front of the inn, already dressed and about to put on his shoes. The boy waved. “Hey, Kamiya-san.”

“Good morning. I was looking for you, as well as Himura-san and Sagara-san. Where could I find them?” Koshijiro asked.

“Sano said he was looking for a souvenir for Tsunan. And Kenshin left early, even before Sano. Not sure where he went…” Yahiko trailed off. “And I’m going out too.”

“On your own?”

“Yeah. There’s something I’m curious about.” He looked so serious. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going far.”

It seemed important. “I trust that you’ll be responsible.”

“Kamiya-san, by now, I think I know this city better than you do.” But he relaxed, smiling a little. “I’ll be back soon!”

“Stay safe.” He watched Yahiko go, before turning around. Kaoru was heading his way, when she was intercepted by the doctor.

“Oh, good, you’re still here. I’d like to speak with you.” Takani pointedly looked at Kaoru. “And just you, for the day. We’ll stick together, Kamiya-san.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it something you can’t share with me?”

“Women’s talk.” It wasn’t an answer he liked, but he could only watch as Takani dragged Kaoru off. His daughter gave a backwards glance in apology. If she was fine with it, he wouldn’t intrude.

Koshijro was left to convey the lack of attendance to Makimachi and Okina. However, they couldn’t be denied.

“Then, we’ll just take you! It’ll be an exclusive tour!”

He was immediately swept up by the duo. His feet didn’t stop moving, until they were back to their starting point at the Aoiya’s entrance. It certainly had been a whirlwind, and his head was reeling from the scenery and commentary.

“So, between the Gold Pavilion and the Silver Pavilion, which do you like best?!” Makimachi was desperate to know.

“Well…” Koshijiro deliberated over his answer. “If I must choose, the Silver Pavilion suited my personal taste; the lack of actual silver may have been unintended, but it ended up being more approachable.”

“Yes, its elegance is unparalleled!” Okina had sided with the younger structure, and he vigorously agreed. “The water reflecting upon the lacquer, the sand garden’s representation of Mount Fuji. I’m glad you appreciate it!”

“Aw, fine.” Makimachi pouted. “I guess it didn’t help that the Golden Pavilion is showing its wear and tear. There wasn’t much of the gold foil left.”

That was true, but Koshijiro said. “However, I am partial to the Golden Pavilion’s garden, the Mirror Pond especially. Not only was it beautiful, it also shares the same name as my wife.”

To his embarrassment, they laughed. Makimachi patted his shoulder. “Kamiya-san, I didn’t expect you to be such a romantic!”

Thankfully, he was saved by the others, who were announcing their presences, and he went out to greet them. Sagara and Yahiko looked like they had accomplished what they wanted, while Takani and Kaoru were somber. Koshijiro wondered what they had spoken of.

And then, there was Himura, carrying a small wooden bucket. At their inquiries of where he’d been, he tilted his head. “Oro? This one went to visit a grave…”

“Wait, Kenshin, you said ‘oro’!” Kaoru gasped.

Yahiko pointed at him. “We haven’t heard that since you left Tokyo!”

“So, like a year and a half?” Sagara joked, to which Takani corrected.

“Three months! The rurouni’s wandered back to us.”

As they continued to tease Himura, Kaoru confided. “I think he’s really come home to us, Otou-san.”

“I believe so. But it’s not over yet, not until we’re in the dojo.”

The following day, they were all packed, along with stacked boxes of sweets, purchased from the wagashi shops as gifts. They thanked the Shirobeko’s staff, who happily saw them off. And then, the Oniwabanshuu bid their farewells at the train station.

“Come visit soon, okay?” Makimachi was already tearful.

“Of course!” Kaoru drew her into a hug. “Take care of yourself, alright? And Shinomori-san too.”

The other girl nodded, little sobs escaping her even as she reluctantly pulled away. The Oniwabanshuu surrounded her, ribbing that the Okashira had to be strong. Except for Shinomori, who gave a handkerchief and met her gaze.

“Misao. We can also visit them.”

“Huh?” She hiccupped. “Can we?”

“Yes, definitely!” Kaoru beamed. “You’re welcome any time.”

“Okay…” This sent her on another wave, which caused her to blow her nose into the handkerchief.

Shinomori and Himura nodded at each other, with a sense of mutual understanding. The latter spoke first. “This one would have liked to share a farewell drink.”

“I don’t drink sake.” Shinomori paused. “However, we could have tea instead.”

“Tea, then.” Himura echoed. “Either here or in Tokyo.” 

Then, the train whistled, and they had to board. They had their last look of Kyoto through the glass windows. It was a beautiful city, but this chapter had closed. Koshijiro felt at peace, as the old capital disappeared from their sight.

Fortunately, the trip home was smooth and on schedule. Koshijiro couldn’t fully relax, not until they arrived at the train station in Tokyo. However, they were definitely noticed in town, and because they’d been gone for so long, everyone who crossed their path wanted to talk. Each conversation was brief, just an inquiry of how they were doing, but it added up. Once there was a lull, they exchanged looks and broke into a collective sprint for the Kamiya dojo.

The gate was already open, and newly decorated with flowers. In front of the house, there were familiar faces. Dr. Gensai, his granddaughters, Tae, and Tsubame exclaimed in unison.

“Hello, everyone!”

“Oh man, we got quite a welcome.” Sagara grinned. “Where’d these flowers come from?”

“Fresh from the market.” Tae clasped Tsubame’s shoulders, beaming. “Tsubame picked out the colors.”

The girl blushed, about to excuse herself, but Yahiko walked up to her. The gift for her was in his other hand, behind his back. “Um, Tsubame. I got this from Kyoto.” He looked embarrassed, giving the small box to her, but he was watching her expression.

Even if she expected it, her mouth still opened in amazement. “O-oh. Yahiko-kun, you didn’t have to…”

“Well, I can’t return it. You don’t have to open it now.” He muttered, balefully noticing the gazes of everyone else. Koshijiro stifled a laugh.

“Alright.” She squeaked. “Thank you so much. I…I’ll find out what it is later.”

“Come on,” Sagara said under his breath. “We had a bet going on.”

“Takani-san, it’s good to have you back!” Dr. Gensai greeted her. “The patients have been asking after you, they’ve missed your care.”

“I’m sorry for my extended absence, but I’m ready to return to work.” She smiled. “And I missed them too.”

Ayame and Suzume had been darting from person to person, dancing around their legs. They approached Koshijiro, cheering. “You’re home, you’re home!”

“Yes, we are. We’re home.” Koshijiro nodded, patting their arms. He was going to lead the way into the house, when he sensed Kaoru wasn’t following, so he turned once more.

She was waiting for Himura, her hand outstretched to him. “Kenshin. Welcome home.”

“This one is home.” Himura smiled. He walked to Kaoru, stopping before her, and for a split second, his gaze met Koshijiro’s. Then, he took Kaoru’s hand, and as her eyes widened, he quickly squeezed her fingers. He had already let go before Koshijiro could say anything about it. Kaoru had frozen at the contact as well. Himura gestured for her to keep walking, saying in an almost too casual tone. “What should we have for dinner? This one can make something.”

“A-are you sure?” Kaoru stammered, her fingers slowly curling into her palm.

“This one has missed cooking.” He insisted.

“Well, I’ve missed eating your cooking.” Her response made him laugh.

Koshijiro kept his eyes glued to them the whole time, thinking about how to address the hand squeeze. He wouldn’t forget that easily. However, they were home at last, and it deserved celebrating.