"Tokio's Wedding" by Omasu Oniwaban by The Archivist

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Saitoh shoveled more soba noodles into his mouth by deftly maneuvering his chopsticks with a steady hand. Like swordplay, eating soba noodles correctly required skill.

Not one noodle was lost to the ground or the front of Saitoh’s nondescript brown haori jacket. He was undercover today. Yamazaki Susumu, the Shinsengumi Head of Spies, was off visiting Aizu with Kondo and Hijikata. Shimada, the Shinsengumi spy who usually met with informants, was out sick with the flu. That left Saitoh to take the report.

At least Shimada had the foresight to set up meetings in a crowded noodle bar. Saitoh allowed the slightly nutty flavor of the buckwheat noodles to dissolve on his tongue. He hoped Tokio knew how to cook soba noodles. If not, he’d have to teach her. He imagined them both in the kitchen, his hand guiding hers as they stirred the noodles with a chopstick once they rose to the surface of the boiling water…

“Saitoh-san?” A man dressed in day-laborer’s clothes sat on the stool next to Saitoh and spoke to his noodle bowl, without looking up.

Good. The spy wasn’t a complete idiot. “Yes.” Saitoh acknowledged, also without looking up.

“We’ve narrowed down the area where the Ishin Shishi rebels are hiding out. We have the right district, and we think it’s either a brothel or an inn. There may be more than one in that area. Their numbers keep growing.”

‘Just like the cockroach population,’ thought Saitoh.

“Which is it, one hideout or two? Brothel or inn?” he asked in a low voice as he raised his bowl to sip at the liquid remaining in it.

“Unknown. We’re still looking into it.”

He’d come all the way out here for this? The safehouse MAY be a brothel or an inn? There MIGHT be one or two? What sort of a spy network did Yamazuki run? Obviously his spies didn’t have the self-discipline of true Shinsengumi members.

“Next time come to me with facts or don’t come at all.” snarled Saitoh, irritated at the inefficiency. He set his bowl down on the counter with unnecessary force, and swept out of the noodle bar, glaring at the pedestrians outside, who quickly got out of his way.

If it hadn’t been for this stupid waste of time of an assignment, he could have taken Tokio out to dinner. Kondo and Hijikata piled extra duties on him before they left to make up for giving him the several days off scheduled after his wedding. It didn’t leave a lot of time for courting her. In a genuinely foul mood, Saitoh made his way back to Shinsengumi headquarters, stalking through the streets of Kyoto like an angry wolf.

o-o-o

“Grandfather!” Tokio started, and shoved the piglet behind the mother dog lying on a blanket in the back of the ruined shed. Three small, rowdy balls of fur gamboled around the shed near their mother. Tokio had been tickling the piglet when her grandfather showed up.

“Tokio-chan.” Her grandfather replied, his eyes uncommonly sharp as he glanced around the shed. “What are you doing in here?”

“Oh,” she stood up and spread her kimono skirt out a little as though brushing dust off it. It was an excellent excuse for shielding the mother dog, and more importantly, the piglet, from view. “I was just visiting the puppies. I think the neighbor boys will be able to take them home soon.”

“See to it.” Takagi ordered gruffly. “When Saitoh-san takes you away to be his bride, it won’t do to have dogs running wild.”

“No, sir.” agreed Tokio, edging to her left where the piglet was venturing out past the dog’s tail, which was thumping against the floor as she wagged it.

Her grandfather followed Tokio with his eyes, gazing luckily at her face and not the floor.

“Have you decided on a gift for Saitoh-san?”

Tokio looked down at the floor. “Not yet.” A small pink snout pushed its way out from under the kimono fabric pooling around her ankles.

Tokio stepped forward, swishing the fabric back over the piglet. “I’m thinking really hard and I know I’ll find the perfect gift soon, grandfather!” she said in a rush.

“See that you do. It must be a gift worthy of a samurai.” said her grandfather gruffly, and stepped back out of the doorway.

Tokio exhaled and sank to the floor, careful not to sit on the small pig which crawled out from under her skirt, gave her an exasperated look, and went to pounce on one of the puppies.

Laughing gently, she watched them play. The pig was now convinced it was a dog. It even tried to growl like a dog. But Tokio knew that pigs couldn’t change into dogs no matter how much they wanted it. Could she change herself into someone Saitoh wanted?

Saitoh valued strength and honor. What if she became strong?

Narrowing her eyes determinedly, Tokio got up off the ground. The oldest of the two neighbor boys had joined a dojo last year and was learning basic sword techniques. If she could just get him to give her a few pointers, she was sure she could learn how to swing a sword, or at least one of those wooden sticks they used. What were they called? Bokken?

Her course of action decided, she marched out of the shed. Finishing sewing her wedding kimono could wait. She had work to do.

o-o-o

Okita wandered up the porch to where Saitoh was sitting crosslegged in the doorway of his room, using ricepaper to oil his katana.

He looked up at the boy’s approach and saw that Okita’s face was pale and his bangs were plastered to his forehead with sweat. It was a warm day.

Okita’s face lit up in a smile and he leaned against the beam supporting the porch’s roof. “So, Saitoh-san, how do you like being in charge of the spy ring while Yamazaki is gone?”

“They are inefficient,” harrumphed Saitoh, and stared into his blade, seeing Okita’s tired expression in the reflection. “As is sending you out on patrol twice in one day.”

Okita merely smiled wider. “I don’t mind, Saitoh-san. We’re short handed with the flu, and at least my two patrols are during daylight. You got stuck patrolling all night, on top of dealing with the informants. Did you get any useful information?”

“From that lot?” growled Saitoh. “I’d be better off doing their job myself.”

Okita looked thoughtful. “You probably could, at that. Well, you might think of giving them an easier job, like spying on Tokio.”

Saitoh looked up sharply as Okita returned an innocent look. “What’s this about Tokio?”

“I just thought you might be curious about how she’s doing. You haven’t seen much of her lately.”

Saitoh gave his sword a last wipe and stuck it in its sheath, relieved that Okita’s concern wasn’t anything important. “We’ll have our whole lives together. What’s the point of finding out now?”

Okita blinked. “Well, you see, she’s getting you a wedding gift. She was over here a few days ago asking me what you might like in a gift. I was just thinking you might want to ask her what she’d like, so you could get her a gift too.”

Ask her? She was to be his wife. Of course she’d like anything he got for her. Wouldn’t she? Surely he could find something she’d like.

Perhaps it would be wise to go shopping. He could go shopping with the best of them.

Saitoh got to his feet and pushed back his blue and white uniform haori jacket to shove his sheathed sword through the obi at his waist.

“Saitoh?” Okita questioned.

“I’ll be back in time for patrol.” Saitoh told him. “If anyone wants me until then they’ll have to wait.” A competitive light began to glow in his eyes. “I’m going shopping.”

o-o-o

Shopping proved to be more difficult than Saitoh anticipated. In his Shinsengumi uniform he tended to inspire more fear than helpfulness from store clerks.

Most of the time they were too busy begging for mercy or trying to get him to take bribes to go away. Saitoh snorted in disgust. Had that objectionable worm, Serizawa Kamo, extorted money from every shopkeeper in Kyoto before the rest of the Shinsengumi eradicated his stain from their ranks?

The other shopkeepers who didn’t beg usually just fled, or stood whitefaced and incoherent with fear.

It was the uniform. He realized that because of Serizawa’s actions, and the Shinsengumi reputation for ruthlessness, the shopkeepers weren’t seeing him when he came to their shops. They saw only the uniform, and reacted accordingly. At any other time, he’d be delighted, but for now it was a nuisance.

Saitoh was about to give up when an incredible smell reached his nose.

He did an abrupt turn and pushing aside the curtain serving as a door, plunged into what turned out to be a perfume store.

Seated on a stool in front of shelves of bottles sat an ancient old lady staring off into space. With a start of surprise, Saitoh realized that she was blind. Her eyes had a milky cast to them that he was used to seeing on corpses, but this woman was very much alive.

“Welcome to my shop, sir.” The old woman said in a voice raspy with age. “What can I do for you?”

Saitoh narrowed his eyes. How did she know he was a man? “That scent. What is it?”

The woman’s wrinkled face wrinkled still more as it creased into a smile. “The bottle of perfume I just sold was essence of white plum blossom. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“I’ll take one of those.”

“Oh no sir, I couldn’t let you do that.”

Saitoh stared. Didn’t she know who she was talking to? No one denied the Shinsengumi. Then he caught himself. She couldn’t see his uniform. She didn’t know. Or did she?

“How did you know I was a man?” he asked, suspicion tingeing his words.

The woman laughed gently. “The sound of your footsteps. You walk like a man, and you’re not wearing those noisy geta sandals the girls all seem to wear now-a-days.”

Saitoh nodded to himself. It made sense, but the other matter at hand did not. “Why won’t you sell me the plum blossom scent?”

“White plum blossom,” she corrected gently. “You wouldn’t want your woman to wear the same scent as another, would you? All women are unique. They should each have the scent that suits them best. Besides, it’s unlucky to sell the same scent twice in one day.”

Saitoh was stumped. The woman reminded him a lot of his grandmother. She knew every folk tale, every superstition from miles around. Her whole life was spent muttering charms and propitiating the local spirits, the kami, in order to keep her family safe. Saitoh didn’t believe in such nonsense, but he realized the powerful hold it had over others.

“Then what will you sell me?” He’d decided he wanted to get Tokio perfume, so perfume it was. No matter what he had to go through to get it.

“First, you must tell me about this woman of yours. Describe her to me.”

Describe her? Stiffening his spine, Saitoh prepared to give his report. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“What does she look like?”

Saitoh frowned. “You’re blind.” he informed her.

“Yes, I know that.” He got the distinct impression she was laughing at him. “I need to hear what you think she looks like.”

“She’s shorter than me.” he glanced uneasily at the blind woman and amended himself. “Medium height.”

“Fat or thin?”

“Neither.” Saitoh allowed his face to relax in a possessive smile as he recalled holding Tokio in his arms. “She’s perfectly shaped. Soft curves. Soft dark hair. Beautiful. Intelligent. Loyal. Gentle. Sweet…”

“Goodness,” laughed the woman. “She sounds like a paragon of virtue. Tell me, have you told her this?”

Saitoh frowned. “Why would I tell her what she already knows?”

The woman sighed, much like his grandmother used to when he’d disappointed her as a child. “Women like to be told such things, you know.” she informed him gently.

He snorted. Tokio wasn’t the sort who needed to be told things. She was bright and intelligent. Hadn’t he just said that?

The woman sighed again, this time indulgently. “Well, I think you’ve told me enough.” Sliding off the stool, she put out her hands and patted her way down the shelves until she came to a small glass bottle. Gripping it firmly, she turned around and unstoppered it. “Here. Try this.”

Saitoh came forward and took the bottle. Raising it to his nose, he inhaled. The scent was delicate, sweet, and somehow familiar.

“It’s essence of cherry blossom,” the woman told him. “Like the blossom itself, it cheers you with its presence and stays in your memory even after the season is gone. You say your woman is gentle, sweet, loyal, and beautiful. If that is true, then this will suit her just fine. And…” she took the bottle back from Saitoh and turned the bottle to show him the price marked on the back, taking the coins he placed in her hand as she continued to talk.

“As you well know, the cherry blossom is the symbol of the warrior. It symbolizes a willingness to give up one’s selfish desires for the good of another. If you keep in mind that the bond between a man and his wife is just as strong as the one between a samurai and his master, you will have a happy marriage. An intelligent man already knows this. A wise man is smart enough to value this bond, as he values the woman he chooses to wed.”

Somehow in the midst of taking the money, and wrapping the bottle in paper, the woman had maneuvered Saitoh to the door. “Come again sometime.” she called out, and Saitoh found himself on the street outside holding a bottle of cherry blossom perfume and not entirely sure if he’d just been complimented or exhorted.

o-o-o

Kondo and Hijikata returned at last two days before the wedding. Okita took the opportunity to send Saitoh to talk to Tokio.

They stood at the edge of the temple courtyard, watching the recruits swing their swords to the shouted orders of their instructor for the day, Shinpachi.

“You have to go and ask what color kimono she’s wearing.”

Saitoh harrumphed. “What does that matter?” he asked Okita, his eyes following one of the recruits with bad balance. He was just about to stalk over and take the sword from him when Shinpachi beat him to it. He subsided with a smirk.

“We need to make sure the decorations at the inn match the color of her kimono. Shinpachi can’t ask her. He’s busy with the recruits.”

Saitoh smirked again, preparing to make a disparaging remark about how Shinpachi’s work was cut out for him, when Okita continued.

“How are the spy reports coming along?” Yamazaki was still away, and Saitoh was in charge of collating and assessing the information gleaned from informants. “Any good news?”

“Good information? No. I had to track down two informants myself, but they still haven’t found the Ishin Shishi safehouse yet.” Saitoh’s eyes narrowed. One of the informants had had the temerity to be drunk when Saitoh finally tracked him down. A dunking in the local well had quickly sobered him.

“You’re working too hard Saitoh-san.” Okita smiled at him, then raised his voice. “Don’t you think so, Kondo-san?”

Saitoh bit back a groan as the bureau chief heard his name and came over. Kondo was a large man with a broad face and big hands, the undisputed leader of the Shinsengumi.

Okita laughed. “Saitoh-san has been working really hard since you’ve been gone. Don’t you think he deserves an afternoon off to visit his bride?”

Kondo’s eyes took on an amused gleam. “Yes, I do. Go to Takagi-san’s house and visit Tokio. And give my regards to her grandfather. That’s an order.”

Glowering, Saitoh nodded curtly and set off. When Kondo gave an order, he had to obey it. Kondo enjoyed reminding Saitoh that it was he and Tokio’s grandfather who’d cooked up the betrothal.

As if Saitoh would have allowed Tokio to get away from him once her realized her true worth. He thought of the bottle of perfume hidden carefully away in his chest back at Shinsengumi Headquarters. The cherry blossom was a beautiful, delicate flower, just like Tokio.

He greeted her grandfather formally at the gate of the Takagi family compound, only to be told that Tokio had gone to visit the neighbor boys across the hills in back. Refusing Takagi’s offer to allow him to wait for her, Saitoh climbed the hill and went looking.

Halfway into the tree line he heard her shriek.

Unsheathing his sword he crouched and ran through the underbrush, leaping the bushes in his way to cut down on the noise.

Another shriek split the air, this one angry. As the brush and trees fell away Saitoh came to a small clearing and halted, astonished.

In the middle of the clearing was Tokio, grasping a long stick, and hacking away at what was left of a dead tree trunk. As she whacked it over and over, she let out angry shrieks.

Wood chips went flying.

Listening intently, he realized that as she swung over and over she kept muttering. “I will get stronger for him. I will get stronger for him.”

This was his delicate, gentle flower?

Saitoh resheathed his sword and folded his arms.

“Exactly what ARE you doing?” he asked in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“Oh!” Tokio whirled and dropped her makeshift bokken and stared speechlessly.

“Tokio?” Saitoh asked dangerously when she didn’t reply right away. He stalked up to her, intending to ask if insanity ran in her family when she burst into tears.

“I’m not worthy to be your bride.” she wailed. “Okita says you like strength and honor, and I’m trying to be strong but…” she raised her hands helplessly and he saw the line of raised blisters.

So that was why she’d been attacking the tree.

There she was, staring at him with that woebegone expression, thinking that she had to whack trees to impress him. Why on earth would she think that?

He narrowed his eyes as he searched her face. She was trying very hard to stop crying, clenching her teeth and blinking hard.

Why shouldn’t she cry if she wanted to?

Saitoh stepped forward and took her in his arms. She fit nicely against him, as she buried her face in his chest. He let his chin rest on top of her head, her hair warm from the sun, and let her sob. She could use the rest. By the amount of wood chips piled around the tree, she’d been at it for quite a while. And some of those blisters on her hands were old. This wasn’t her first day of practicing. It would, however, be her last. No wife of his was going to hurt her hands.

“If I wanted a paragon of strength and honor, I’d marry Hijikata or Kondo.” Saitoh growled at the silly girl in his arms. “Attacking tree stumps won’t turn you into them.” It was a fact that made Saitoh truly thankful. The thought of marriage to the bureau chief or his crony made him shudder.

“But I want to be the type of woman you admire.” she wailed into his chest.

“Don’t be stupid,” Saitoh told her bracingly. “I already admire you. If you changed into someone else you wouldn’t be the woman I adore, you’d be someone else altogether.”

Tokio pulled back a bit to look up at him. “What are you saying?” she sniffed.

“I’m saying that you’re fine the way you are.”

He could see in her eyes the battle between disbelief and hope. It was time to tip the scales in favor of hope. He lowered his head and slowly, deliberately, kissed her, proving his point with the efficiency and thoroughness he was known for.

Raising his head from what had been an extremely satisfactory kiss, he smirked at the expression of dazed wonder on her face and reflected that if Yamazaki’s spies were half as efficient as he was they’d have the safe house and the Ishin Shishi spies giftwrapped and in jail by now.

Saitoh noticed that Tokio had remembered to breathe again. Time for some more persuading. He smirked, and lowered his face gently to hers.

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