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"In The Wolves' Den" by Omasu Oniwaban by The Archivist

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CHAPTER TWO

Disclaimer: I don’t own Rurouni Kenshin characters or plot.


Saitoh shoved the shoji screen open, catching the thief in his shadow as starlight spilled into Hijikata’s room from the garden behind him. Sometimes it was a pain to be tall, and cast a long shadow. All Saitoh could see was the man’s outline, with patches of white delineating his face and the document he held in his hands. It was one of Hijikata’s secret reports, no doubt.

“So, thief, did you find what you were looking for?” Saitoh asked, not really expecting a reply, and the ninja obliged him by maintaining the silence they were famous for.

He dropped into the classic stance for executing the gattotsu, his signature left handed parallel thrust. “I’m sure you’re familiar with our motto, Aku Soku Zan?” he asked.

Hmm. Curious. Now that he’d sunk into a crouch, his shadow slipped off the intruder somewhat, and he now saw that the man, or boy really, wasn’t wearing a face mask. Was he an inept ninja or just a common thief? No matter. Saitoh knew how to deal with both. He tensed his body, preparing to lunge when…

Thump! The boy’s body crumpled to the ground.

Saitoh maintained his pose for a minute. Like he was really going to fall for that one! He waited for the intruder to realize his plan to get Saitoh off guard wasn’t working, but the boy was stubborn.

He glanced around the floor to see if there were any weapons the boy planned to pick up and use on him, but there were nothing but papers arranged in neat little piles all over the tatami mat.

Still the boy didn’t move. Saitoh’s eyes narrowed. Lowering his sword, he took a quick step forward and placed the tip at the boy’s throat. A tiny droplet of blood appeared under the kid’s chin as Saitoh pricked him lightly.

Still no reaction. He used the blunt, muni side of his blade to nudge the boy’s jaw. The kid’s head flopped over to the side so that the starlight from outside shown clearly on his face. Sheesh, he was young! Probably wasn’t even old enough to shave yet. Either the ninjas were recruiting from the cradle, or this was just a thief.

Saitoh nudged the boy’s knee. Still no reaction. Hmm. Saitoh had never actually frightened anyone to death before. It was a novel experience. But wait a bit, the tiny wound on the boy’s neck was still bleeding, so if blood was flowing he had to be alive.

Not having much experience with fainting thieves, Saitoh didn’t know how long this state of unconsciousness would last. Better take precautions. If the kid were hiding a dagger or other weapons, they’d be in his gi sleeves, or secured to his chest. Saitoh checked the first hiding place by walking over the sleeves with his bare feet, the fabric splayed out on the floor, pooling around the boy’s outstretched arms. He kept his blade at the kid’s throat just in case he woke suddenly and tried anything.

Nothing there.

Weapons could still be tucked inside the gi at his chest. Saitoh lowered his blade tip and ran it lightly across the kid’s chest starting at the right ribcage, checking for daggers or shuriken. Aha! There was a lump, but wait a minute, that wasn’t like any weapon he’d encountered before. Saitoh prodded at the shape under the black gi with his blade again, then leapt back from the body as if he’d touched a hot kettle with his hand.

Yelping a curse, he glared down at the body on the mat. The gods must all hate him.

The thief was a woman.

o-o-o


If Kondo found out that he’d scratched a woman with his sword, he’d hit the roof. When he realized that a mere woman had infiltrated Shinsengumi headquarters, he’d be even angrier. Saitoh had to find out who the woman was and why she was here.

He knelt to the floor by the body and picked up the paper she’d been holding when she fell. It was one of Hijikata’s old letters from home. Evidently he’d been complaining about Serizawa to one of his friends, and the friend was writing back to commiserate. Saitoh glanced over it quickly. There was absolutely nothing secret about it.

Sheathing his sword, he went through the neat little stacks of paper on the floor and found only unimportant personal papers. Hijikata might be upset that Saitoh and the girl now knew that he wrote poetry on the side, but apart from that there was nothing damaging to either Hijikata or the security of the Shinsengumi.

What was damaging was the fact that the girl was here at all. If he could present a full report to Hijikata and Kondo when they returned it would go a long way towards mitigating his failure to protect Shinsengumi headquarters.

He glared down at the girl in sudden calculation. He would be the one to interrogate her, and present the report to Kondo and Hijikata. No one else.

Decision made, he scooped the girl up in his arms and walked out onto the porch where a sleepy looking Okita stepped out of his doorway, turned and stared open mouthed.

Saitoh felt his jaw clench as Okita’s eyes dropped interestedly to the body in his arms.

“Is he dead?” Okita asked in surprise.

Hah. So Saitoh wasn’t the only one to mistake the hakama and gi clad girl for a boy, and Okita was seeing her outside in the starlight. Cheered by the thought, he smirked and began to carry her past the younger captain.

“ ‘He’ is ‘she’ and no, she’s not dead. Not yet.” It wouldn’t do any harm to reinforce his reputation as a soulless killer to Okita. The boy was remarkably irreverent towards him. Saitoh noticed that Okita’s mouth dropped open in a round ‘o’ shape as he watched Saitoh pass.

Then the girl ruined it by stirring in his arms.

“Papa?” she muttered, then burrowed her face against his chest, lapsing back to sleep.

Saitoh stalked on until he got to his chamber, and nudged the shoji screen open with his foot. Steeling himself, he glanced back at Okita.

Okita’s hand was now covering his mouth, and his shoulders were shaking, but Saitoh had a sinking suspicion that they weren’t shaking due to coughing. One glance at the smile in Okita’s eyes confirmed it.

“The girl broke into Hijikata’s room and left a mess. Clean it up, unless you want him to come back and find his papers all over the floor.” Saitoh ordered.

Okita nodded obediently, but Saitoh could still hear the faint sound of snickering as Okita bent to pick something up from the floor, letting his bangs fall forward in an attempt to hide his smile.

Growling to himself, Saitoh entered his room, shoved the shoji screen shut with his foot and dumped the girl on his futon. Then he dressed in his full Shinsengumi uniform of gi, hakama, and the distinctive blue haori coat with the white wave pattern at the sleeves. When she woke, he wanted her to remember who it was she’d tried to steal from.

Whenever that would be. Leaning his sword upright against his shoulder he sat against the wall and prepared to wait her out.

o-o-o


She was being carried in her father’s arms. She must have fallen asleep at dinner again. Her mother always said she played harder than any girl child she’d ever seen, and it tended to catch up with her after she’d eaten.

That was when her father would pick her up and carry her back to the sleeping chamber while her mother got out her sleeping yukata. She didn’t mind his uneven gait, she felt safe in his arms and knew he’d never let her fall.

She called out to him sleepily and nestled happily against his chest, then sleep overtook her and she was gone.

The sunlight was coming in from the wrong direction, she noted blearily. What was she doing sleeping in grandfather’s old gi and hakama? Rolling to her side, she realized her hair was loose. She realized too, that the futon beneath her was blue, not green like the one at home. She lifted a hand to her neck. There was a spot of dried blood on it. Had she scratched herself in her sleep?

Then memory came rushing back.

“So you’re awake.” growled the voice from last night.

Her head shot up and she saw with horror that a Shinsengumi soldier was sitting not five feet away from her, his sword held prominently against his shoulder. She cringed back instinctively.

He his lips moved into a feral smile. “We’re going to have a little talk, you and I. I will ask questions, and you will answer. Agreed?”

She opened her mouth to respond, then remembered. If she spoke, he’d find a way to get her to reveal her name. Grandfather would find out what she’d done, and the Takagi family honor, the only thing they had left of value, would be ruined.

So she wouldn’t talk. She shut her mouth with a snap and sank back on her knees, staring at him defiantly.

The defiant stare lasted about a minute. He was just too scary to look at, so she stared down at her hands, fisted in the black hakama fabric on her knees, and let his words wash over her.

For hours he yelled, whispered, insulted, threatened, and cajoled. She never said a word, though at times she felt like crying at some of the things he said which were calculated to get her to speak to defend herself. She was a Takagi. She was strong. She was also wondering if they were planning to starve her to death.

Didn’t Shinsengumi ever eat?

o-o-o


Saitoh skipped breakfast. He didn’t want to lose momentum. The girl wasn’t cracking.

Surprising.

Perhaps she’d had ninja training after all. Then he remembered the way she’d called him ‘papa’ and snuggled against him. This girl was no ninja. He’d stake his life on that.

It was nearly lunch time. His squad had patrol duty later that afternoon. He wanted to wrap this up before then. He intensified his efforts, pacing around her as he threw questions at her, keeping her off guard, but nothing worked.

She remained stubbornly silent. When he found his hand itching to smack some sense into the girl he knew it was time to quit. He’d never hit a woman in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Wrenching the shoji screen open, he stalked out onto the porch to get some air, closing the screen behind him with unnecessary force. Okita’s shoji opened and he stepped up to Saitoh who was staring moodily at the tree he’d noticed last night. He bet she’d used it to enter the compound.

“Is she talking yet?” Okita asked innocently. He’d left his uniform haori coat off, since he wasn’t scheduled for patrol, and was wearing a simple blue kimono and obi.

“No.” Saitoh growled. Okita was in the room next door to him. The walls were thin. If the girl had spoken, Okita would have heard it. They both knew it. “She isn’t taking this seriously.” He commented, more to himself than Okita.

“What will you do?”

Saitoh turned his face toward the younger captain, allowing his frustration to show.

Okita immediately looked away and stared at the floorboards of the porch. “You’re not planning to…do what we did to Kotaka?” he asked grimly.

Kotaka was the Choshu Ishin Shishi loyalist Kondo had captured. Hijikata had tortured him with iron spikes and hot candle wax to make him give up the location of the Ikeda-ya Inn meeting where Miyabe’s group of Choshu loyalists were planning to launch an attack on the imperial palace to kidnap the emperor and set fire to Kyoto in order to escape in the confusion.

Saitoh’s face lighted up. “Thank you, Okita. You’ve just given me an idea. Make sure the girl doesn’t escape.”

Ignoring Okita’s quick sound of protest, he dropped lightly off the porch and went to the storage shed at the back of the temple compound. Retrieving the items he needed, he returned to the porch and Okita.

For the second time in twenty four hours he saw Okita’s jaw drop. His eyes grew big, then accusing as he saw the candles and spikes Saito was carrying in one hand.

“Master Saitoh! You’re not…”

Saitoh smirked at Okita’s expression. In many ways Okita was still a boy, easily shocked. “No. We destroy evil, we don’t embrace it.”

Relief flashed in Okita’s eyes as Saitoh went on. “Hijikata used these as a last resort. The Ishin Shishi were planning to burn down Kyoto. I doubt this little fool” he nodded toward his door “is planning to do anything like that.”

“Then why?” Okita gestured at the candle and spikes.

“Shinsengumi do not torture women. But there’s no rule against letting them think we can.”

With that, Saitoh stalked past Okita, entered his chamber, grabbed the girl by the wrist, and pulled her, stumbling, to her feet. Her hair fell about her face and shoulders as she lurched to keep up with him. He dragged her down the porch away from Okita to the back of the temple. Stopping at the shed where the laundry tubs were stored, he opened the door and shoved her inside, closing the door behind them both.

Five minutes later he emerged, tight faced, carrying her prone form. As he feared, Okita was still on the porch when he mounted the steps and began to stalk across the wooden planks. He’d probably stayed to listen to be sure there wasn’t any screaming.

Okita walked part way to greet him, eyes glued with horrified fascination on the body in his arms. “She’s not…?”

Saitoh stopped and hmphed impatiently. “She did it again.” He growled.

Okita looked at him. “Again?”

“She fainted.” Saitoh bit out the words and glared, affronted, at the girl in his arms. Glancing up he saw Okita press his lips together in an effort not to smile.

It wasn’t funny. Saitoh stalked past the young captain, shoved his shoji door open, and rolled the girl off his arms onto the futon, then stalked back out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“I’m going on patrol. You watch her.” He told Okita, then stalked back to the barracks to roust his lazy squad members and force them to go on patrol a half hour earlier than scheduled.

o-o-o


She woke up slowly, and opened her eyes reluctantly. Yes, it wasn’t a dream. She was still in that tall Shinsengumi guy’s room on his blue futon. She knew now that she wouldn’t last long if they tortured her. She’d fainted at the very thought of it. Of course the fainting might have something to do with the fact that they hadn’t bothered to feed her.

She wondered how long it took to starve to death. She should have brought grandfather’s tanto dagger. No, wait, she’d already sold it. She’d heard somewhere that it was possible to bite your tongue and bleed to death. Experimentally, she caught her tongue between her teeth and pressed down. And quickly released her tongue. That hurt! Not only that, it just reminded her of how hungry she was.

Pushing her palms against the futon, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. That man was so angry with her! He thought she was a thief or a spy. It rankled. She wanted to tell him, to make that cold contempt in his eyes go away, but she couldn’t. If she’d really been a spy she thought she’d have died of shame by now. She didn’t know why it mattered what he thought of her, but it did. And she’d never be able to tell him the truth or explain herself. She sniffed. She was NOT going to cry.

The shoji screen opened and a young boy popped his head in the opening, and gave her a sunny smile. “Oh good, you’re awake!”

His head disappeared momentarily, then reappeared, along with the rest of him, carrying a square, footed, black-lacquer tray.

The boy, dressed in a simple kimono, set the tray down in front of her. It had a covered bowl of what smelled like rice, a square tray of grilled fish, and a drinking bowl of tea, with a set of chopsticks at the side.

“I thought you might be hungry.” He told her, and sat across from her on the other side of the tray.

Hungry? She was starving. She hadn’t eaten for a day and a half. But wait, this was Shinsengumi food. What if it were poisoned? Or drugged? What if it contained a truth serum? She’d heard such drugs existed. She couldn’t eat it.

Biting her lip in disappointment, she shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not hungry.” She muttered miserably.

She was staring at the food. She realized it when she looked up to see the boy watching her look, and blushed.

“It’s not poisoned, I promise.” He reached out and uncovered the rich bowl. It was still so fresh from the kitchen that the rice was steaming, and she just about died from inhaling its heavenly scent.

Taking a scoop of rice, the boy raised his fingers to his mouth and popped it in, then reached out and grabbed a piece of fish and ate it as well. Then he took the tea bowl and took a sip. “See? Would I do that if it were poisoned?”

He extended his hands and presented her with the tea bowl.

Well, how could she refuse when he was looking at her so expectantly, like one of the neighbor boys showing off his latest masterpiece, or a newly caught frog, waiting with bated breath for her praise or compliments? It would be rude not to take the bowl, she decided, and lifted it reverently out of his hands.

She took a sip. Green tea. It was perfect. Not too strong or too hot, but just right. She took another, bigger sip and let the liquid wash over her parched tongue. Now, what about the food?

The kid was obviously a servant boy, and if he’d been ordered to bring her food, they might beat him if the food came back untouched. So for his sake, she’d better eat it. She lit into the serving dishes with a sigh.

The boy laughed with delight. “I figured Saitoh forgot to feed you. And he wonders why you keep fainting!”

“Who?” she asked around a mouthful of rice, pausing from shoveling the plump grains into her mouth with her chopsticks.

“Saitoh-san.”

She stared at him blankly. Who was that?

“You’re in his room.” The boy told her gently.

She glanced around. The room was so sparsely furnished, with just a chest and one calligraphy scroll on the wall, that she’d figured it was a spare one. “His name is Saitoh?”

“Yes,” the boy nodded. “He is Saitoh, and I am Okita. The man whose room you were found in is Hijikata.”

Warmth stole up her cheeks. She had a feeling she was blushing again. “So you know about that…Wait, did you say his name was Hijikata? Not Serizawa?”

Okita’s eyes grew big. “Why would you think that?”

She swallowed a mouthful of rice. “I heard that Serizawa was the scariest Shinsengumi officer ever. I asked some people in the street who was the scariest officer and they said it was the tallest one. I’ve seen two tall officers so far, the one from that room I…Ahem.” she coughed and went on. “so the other one must be Saitoh.” She didn’t tell Okita that she hadn’t dared to use Serizawa’s name when asking people about the Shinsengumi because she was afraid they’d remember it. She hadn’t asked many questions at all for that very reason.

“Ah.” Okita said, still puzzled but too polite to ask why she was asking about scary officers.

She took another bite of fish and saw his confusion. He looked barely older than some of her neighbor’s boys. “Aren’t you scared to work here?” she asked.

“Scared?” Okita looked surprised. “No, why would I?”

“Isn’t it frightening working around all the Shinsengumi?”

Okita’s mouth opened in astonishment, and an expression she couldn’t quite identify passed over his face.

She put her chopsticks down. “I’m sorry. It’s not my business. Please forgive me for asking.”

“It’s OK. Please tell me why you think it would be scary to work here. I really want to know what you’ve heard about us...er…I mean the Shinsengumi.”

She glanced at him concernedly, but saw only bland curiosity, not offence in his face, so she answered. “Just the usual. They are like wolves, they hunt in packs and kill every loyalist they find. Other people too sometimes.” She felt her face tighten up at the memory, but couldn’t help it.

Okita’s eyes darkened, and he looked sad. He leaned forward, hands on the tatami mat. “Did …they…kill someone you know?” he asked gently.

A memory flashed back into her mind, one that she wished she could forget. Her mother’s body lay splayed out suggestively on the floor of father’s burning workshop. There’d been so much blood, and her mother’s eyes staring sightlessly at her as the flames took hold of the shreds of her kimono. She’d known her mother was dead, even as she’d tried to drag the body from the burning building. It was two, nearly three years ago, but the memory was still as fresh and vivid as the day it had happened.

She swallowed, hard, the food forgotten. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Okita was silent for a minute, then he spoke softly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” She straightened her spine. “It was years ago. It wasn’t like it was your fault. You’re not one of those killers.”

She began stacking the bowls on the tray and noticed Okita seemed to be squirming. She took her hands off the bowls. Perhaps he was supposed to do the tidying up after the meal.

“I’ve told you my name, what’s yours?” he asked suddenly, and then she understood. They’d asked him to find out her name and he was uncomfortable doing it.

“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that.”

“But why not?”

She sighed. It was much harder to resist Okita’s gentle puppy dog eyes than Saitoh’s ruthless verbal demands. “If I tell my family name I’ll bring dishonor to them when they find out that I was caught trespassing.”

Okita cocked his head. “Why were you trespassing? You don’t seem like a thief.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’ve met a lot of thieves in your life?” she laughed, then sobered and answered as best she could. “I really can’t tell you that. It’s a secret.”

“I can keep a secret!” Okita told her.

This kid was adorable. He had no idea the sort of people he was working for. He deserved to be warned. “If I tell you, and that Saitoh person finds out, he’ll torture you to get the information. Believe me, you’re better off not knowing.”

“Oh, Saitoh would never do that.” Okita said blithely, then stopped as if unsure that he should have said it.

Leaning closer to the tray, she stared at him worriedly. “Oh yes he would.” She nodded vehemently to punctuate her words. “You didn’t hear him talk about how he tortures people. It’s horrible. I can’t let that happen to you. Isn’t there anywhere else you can work? It’s not safe here for you. You don’t have a Kyoto accent. Why not go home? Where is your home, by the way?”

Okita smiled. “It’s a small village on the outskirts of Edo.”

“Edo? How did you come to Kyoto?”

“A group of my friends were going for a job so I tagged along.” He informed her airily. “It was our greatest adventure.”

“Tell me about your village.” She commanded softly, and Okita obliged. He soon had her laughing at the antics of his great-uncle’s escape artist chickens, and his cousin’s tongue-tied courtship of his future wife.

“Now tell me about your family.” Okita ended expectantly.

“I can’t…”

Okita shook his head. “I don’t mean names or anything, just stories.”

She thought a moment, looked at his face, so like the young neighbor boys she watched over when their mother went to market, and relented.

“Alright, I’ll tell you an old story about my great grandfather. He was a samurai who served the Daimyo of a han far away. The Daimyo had several sons, and the oldest was an honorable man, a worthy successor to the Daimyo. But the second son was jealous. He wanted to be Daimyo, so one night he murdered his father and elder brother, and accused great grandfather and the other five samurai on duty of letting an assassin inside. He ordered them to commit seppuku. They were all ready to do it too when one of the samurai noticed the snow.”

“The snow?” interjected Okita.

“Yes,” she smiled. “It snowed the day before the murder, but it was clear all that night and the next day. One of the samurai noticed that there were no footprints in the snow, save for his own and the other men who’d patrolled all night long, trampling one circular path around the mansion. No one from the outside had come to the house. There were no other footprints leading to the house, and the only one in the house besides the women and children was the second son.”

“The samurai banded together. The second son was friend to the shogun. They knew the shogun would never believe the samurai over them. So they killed the second son and fled to become ronin, masterless samurai, forever after. My great grandfather wound up in Kyoto after years of wandering and he met a beautiful girl at a well who gave him a drink since he had no bucket. A bandit tried to attack her on her way home. Great grandfather heard her cries and killed the bandit, though he was wounded pretty badly in the fight. The girl’s family were so grateful they brought him home and the girl nursed him back to health. They fell in love. The girl’s family had no son, so they adopted Great grandfather and allowed him to marry the girl. They had a son who inherited the family business, and he had a son, and that son was my father.”

She stopped, afraid to say any more in case she slipped up and said a name.

Okita smiled. “That’s a very good story. Do you have any more?”

“Won’t your master be angry that you’re taking so long?” They’d been talking for quite some time, and she didn’t want to get the serving boy in trouble.

“My master?” asked Okita. “Oh! Not at all. I’m supposed to be guarding you.”

Guarding her? Why bother to send a servant boy to keep her company when she could hear Shinsengumi soldiers practicing in the yard outside, ready and willing to cut her to pieces should she so much as poke her nose out the door? Unless her suspicions were correct and they’d sent him to get more information out of her. If that was the case…

She smiled. “Tell me more about your village.” Turnabout was fair play. She’d find out more about Okita instead.

The shoji door opened suddenly and a man’s head popped in. “Captain Okita, sir! Captain Saitoh has returned and wishes to speak with you.”

“Captain Okita?” she repeated, and turned to look accusingly at the boy sitting across the lacquer tray.

Okita sighed and waved at the man in the doorway, who was staring curiously at her and the captain. “Tell Saitoh-san I’m on my way. That will be all.”

The man bowed and shut the shoji screen.

“I’m sorry.” He said to her. “I didn’t mean to fool you like that. It’s just that when you thought I was a servant…” He trailed off and gave her a sad grin. “I’m sorry.” He said again, rose to his feet and left her feeling like she’d just been punched in the stomach.

o-o-o


Saitoh was waiting for Okita in the great hall of the temple, ignoring the groans of his squad members as they took off their sandals. He’d worked them hard today, extending the scope of their patrol and walking them all over the city. Twice. It would do them good to develop a little stamina.

Okita entered the main hall, took off his sandals and came up to Saitoh.

“Well?”

“Well what?” asked Okita innocently.

“Don’t play the fool,” Saitoh growled. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Okita grinned unrepentantly. “I spent the afternoon with her. You forgot to feed her, by the way. That’s why she kept fainting.”

Hmm. So the girl wasn’t ill. Good. It would be just his luck if she keeled over while in his custody, giving Kondo and Hijikata even more reasons to be miffed at him. “What did you find out?” Trust Okita to make him ask instead of just spitting out the pertinent information.

“I didn’t get her name, but I learned about her family. She’s the great-granddaughter of a samurai who was adopted by a merchant family. Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“She’s really a very nice girl when you get to know her.”

“You try my patience, Okita.” Saitoh growled as the boy laughed.

“Well really, Saitoh-san, how was I supposed to get any more out of her when your messenger barged in demanding my presence? Up until that point she thought I was a servant. She was really opening up and beginning to trust me. She said I should get another job in a place that wasn’t so dangerous.” Okita gave a foolish grin.

Saitoh narrowed his eyes in thought. So she’d charmed Okita, had she? Not that it was difficult. Okita liked to believe the best about everyone. Including Saitoh. More fool him.

“Aren’t you due for evening patrol?”

“I took two of Shinpachi’s patrols last week so he’s taking my patrol tonight.” Okita told him. “I’d be happy to help you find out more about the girl if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He nodded a brusque goodbye at the young captain and stalked back to his room.

The girl may have charmed Okita, but she wouldn’t charm him. Still, threats and intimidation hadn’t worked. If she truly was from a samurai family, he couldn’t use torture on her without severe repercussions, even if he wanted to. Perhaps charm was the answer.

He could be charming. Just because he’d had almost no use for women in the past and thought them weak, annoying creatures didn’t mean that he couldn’t charm one of them.

He opened the shoji screen and prepared to be charming.

o-o-o


It was a complete disaster.

The minute he walked in the room, she tensed up and clenched her fists in the fabric of her hakama.

She refused to speak when he asked after her health, her family, her hobbies. She was treating his polite conversation like it was still an interrogation. Then he remembered something Okita had said.

“I understand you were hungry today. I regret not arranging food for you before I left. I will be sure that the kitchen sends something in for your dinner tonight.”

At the mention of food her head raised a little and he caught a glimpse of her brown eyes between the twin waves of black hair that fell, curtain-like, from her forehead.

“What sort of food do you prefer?” asked Saitoh.

She got a sort of dreamy look in her eyes, and her lips parted for a moment as if she was going to actually tell him. Saitoh found himself holding his breath, then her lips pressed back together and she lowered her head.

That’s when Saitoh lost his temper. “It’s a question about food, woman,” he snapped. “I’m not asking about state secrets. Have you no sense of courtesy? Though what else could I expect from a thief? How a woman from a noble samurai lineage could sink to the level of a petty thief is beyond me. Your ancestors would be ashamed of you! Sneaking into Shinsengumi Headquarters to steal.”

“It’s not stealing when you’re taking back something that belongs to you!”

The girl gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth as if trying to shut it before any more words came out.

So, she does talk. Saitoh smiled triumphantly.

The girl saw the smile and placed her other hand over her first. Her mouth stayed shut, and no amount of insults, threats, or entreaties to the family honor opened it again. When he realized he was seriously thinking about ripping her hands off her mouth by force, he knew it was time to take a break. No other prisoner he’d interrogated had ever affected him like this before.

Getting her to talk so that he could present a full report to Kondo and Hijikata was no longer the sole reason he had for interrogating the girl. It was becoming personal.

It was becoming a necessity.

Okita’s footsteps were pacing outside. The boy had been walking desultorily up and down the porch for some time. Saitoh decided to join him. He rose to his feet and walked out the shoji door without a backward glance.

Shutting the shoji screen behind him, he jerked his head toward the rear of the temple and began to walk. Okita fell into step beside him. When they were far enough away from his room to avoid being overheard, he stopped.

“What else did the girl tell you?” he demanded.

“Nothing important, really.” Okita said, concentrating. “We mostly swapped old family stories. Oh, and she thought either you or Hijikata was Serizawa.”

Saitoh stared. Serizawa Kamo? That was a name he’d like to forget. His actions had done more to stain the reputation of the Shinsengumi than any amount of gossip could. “So, she doesn’t know Serizawa is dead?”

Okita shook his head. “It’s not as if the world stops when one of us dies, you know.” Okita looked away for a second then continued brightly. “And we were in our old headquarters across town at the Yagi residence when he was killed. I doubt it would have been news in this end of Kyoto.”

Okita stared at him. “So what do we do now?”

So it was ‘we’ now was it? Okita was taking an interest in his prisoner. She really had charmed him, and Okita, for all his optimism, wasn’t easily fooled. Nor was he. Hijikata and Kondo were coming back tomorrow. He had to have the report finished by then.

“We let her go.” Saitoh said decisively.

“Really?” The happiness that brightened Okita’s eyes was really quite pathetic.

“We allow her to think she’s escaped, follow her home, and interrogate her entire family until we find the answers we need.” Saitoh went on coldly, watching the boy’s hopes deflate.

“Oh.” said Okita dully.

“Did you think I’d gone soft?” Saitoh sneered.

“No.” Okita grinned weakly. “Not you. I never expected you to go soft.” He turned and began walking back to his room.

As Okita left, Saitoh thought he heard the boy say softly, “Though I did hope….”

END CHAPTER TWO


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