Chapter
Three – Darkness Unescapable
“Then you
think that the darkness is coming?” said Éowyn. “Darkness Unescapable?”
- J. R.
R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
"There is a woman," he calmly
informed his men as they gathered around him in their plain white room. Hannya
was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "Kanryuu wishes us to watch
her. I do not know what she is to him, or why she is so important. But this
does not matter. Her room is next to Kanryuu's... We will take turns -- there
should be at least one of us watching her at all times. These are Kanryuu's
orders."
"But, Okashira..."
exclaimed the short man standing to Hannya's right.
"What is it, Beshimi?"
"Iya... it is nothing."
"Beshimi."
"That man is scum!" the
tiny man burst out angrily. "I... there is something wrong about him. Just wrong."
Beshimi shuddered. Beshimi was an excellent judge of character. Aoshi took
strange comfort in that fact.
"I know," he said softly. "I
know... Be strong, men. Come next spring, we shall have no more need for this
foolish bastard, and then we shall leave this place for good."
Beshimi bowed his head.
"But first... we must do our
job. Beshimi, you explore the inside of this building and get a detailed map of
all three floors drawn. Shikijou and Hyottoko, you two scout out the
surrounding woods and grounds."
As the three bowed and left to their
respective posts, the one remaining man stood up from his position against the
wall.
"And as for me, Okashira?"
"And as for you, Hannya, I have
a special request," Aoshi replied, slipping a folded origami crane into
the masked warrior's hand. Hannya glanced at the crane sitting in his palm as
the young okashira strode out of the room. Then he unfolded it. His eyes
skimmed swiftly over the neat black brushstrokes flowing across the colored
paper.
Who
is Takani Megumi?
- - -
Takani Megumi was not a stupid
woman. She was well aware that Shinomori Aoshi was no ordinary man, not like
the blundering fools Kanryuu was normally so fond of hiring. That much at least
she knew. Something about the man troubled her. Kanryuu and his common rogues
she had at least understood. She knew their motivations. What they feared, what
they desired. Greed and lust were straightforward concepts, and she was not a
stupid woman. But it did not seem to her that it was for power or simple
worldly desires that Shinomori had come to this mansion.
There was a strange fire burning
within her heart as she thought of the newcomer. Anger, envy, longing, hatred,
despair. Her trembling hands clutched the folds of her yukata until her
knuckles turned white. The fire raged fiercely. It would consume her, she knew,
the way it had consumed her mother and her two brothers, eating away at her
until there was nothing left but an empty cold shell.
She did not care. All she had now
were her pride and her wit, and she would be a fool no longer.
Anyone who would willingly work for
a worm like Kanryuu was even lower than Kanryuu himself. She was certain of
this. And she would drag them all down to hell with her. Every last one of
them.
It was only a few days later, as she
pored over dusty old medical textbooks in Kanryuu's personal library, when she
met him again. She had guessed from Kanryuu's talk that he was some prodigy
from the Bakumatsu years. A young leader, left with only a few men at his
command. She suspected that he had sent his men to watch over her room, though
she never caught even a shadow of a movement as she sat on her bed at night,
reminiscing.
Even so, she was sure that they did
not know the truth behind her role in Kanryuu's business. She had not been sent
to the basement since Shinomori had been hired. So they could not know, could
not have followed her, could not have seen the truth. She was not sure exactly
what Kanryuu was planning. Perhaps the merchant did not wish the other man to
know, either.
Perhaps that was why she was so
startled when he walked in that day, gazing about wonderingly at the shelves of
books, like a child experiencing the colorful crowds of the outdoor markets for
the very first time.
"Not you again,"
she said scornfully. She was the only one who ever used the library. She
slammed her book shut and stood.
He turned with a start. He had
failed to notice her presence.
She sighed audibly. "Very well,
I shall come back some other time, then." She began to walk away.
In three long strides he caught up
to her and grabbed her arm. She stiffened at his touch. The sound of rain
filled the empty silence.
"What..." she whispered
furiously, "do you want?"
He said nothing, but loosened his
grip. Immediately, she jerked away, backing up.
"What do you want from
me?" she repeated, louder.
At last he replied, in a soft low
voice. "Answers..."
Her eyes widened with shock as he
tossed a familiar hateful triangular packet to the ground. Her mouth slowly
rounded into an 'o'.
"Opium, is it not?" he
asked quietly.
She thought of running away. But
then she looked up, glaring into his eyes.
"Yes, opium! Are you satisfied
now?"
"Then you are the one who
--"
At that, her hand reached out, and
she slapped him. Stunned, he touched his cheek, stinging from the pain.
She turned her face away.
"You're a smart one, aren't you," she whispered, venom lacing her
voice. "None of the others ever figured it out..."
Before he could answer, she spoke
once more, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"You are a beautiful man, Shinomori Aoshi... Beware, for Takeda Kanryuu covets
beautiful things." She laughed bitterly. The sound faded, washed away by
the drumming of the rain.
The voice of Kanryuu's manservant
broke through the rain and the silence. "Shinomori-sama--"
He turned his head, refusing to look
her in the eye.
"Shinomori-sama, Takeda-sama is
leaving now."
Angrily, she continued to laugh.
"Welcome to the darkness, Shinomori..." she spat viciously at his
retreating figure.
He swept away without another word.
- - -
He had insisted that Hyottoko come
with them. The rain had paused for the moment, but he felt uneasy still. And
Hyottoko was a good man. He did not think Kanryuu was pleased with the
arrangement, somehow, but the businessman said nothing of the matter, even as
the three of them walked down the bustling streets of the city he had once
known as
Kanryuu seemed in a particularly
good mood. The businessman had said something about watching kabuki. Aoshi had
not been aware that the man was fond of anything but making a profit.
Even after nine years, he was still
not used to walking about openly in the middle of a busy street. All his old
habits seemed to come back to him as he surreptitiously began observing his
surroundings, watching for abnormal behavior. There was a feeling of agitation
rising up his throat. He wondered if he were a fool.
A
white horned face. permanent leering grin. the masked warrior is
pacing back and
forth when aoshi comes to listen to his
report. the man is acting strangely.
bakayarou, says the masked man as he
tosses a triangular packet to the floor. you fool.
he feels his heart
constricting.
it does not matter, he says at last. we
are but the man's bodyguards. this has nothing to do with us.
so desu ka? okashira.
this has nothing to do with us, he
repeats.
takani. do you not recognize the name?
a family of doctors from aizu. even their women and children were learned in
medicine.
takani megumi... he whispers. he should
have known. the takanis were well known. besides, her accent is recognizable.
and she carries herself
like a woman of aizu. tall and proud.
what is a takani doing here, in edo? he
wonders. but he already knows the answer.
do you? the masked man would ask, if
the man could read his mind. do you really?
so he does not say anything.
don't tell the others,
he says, instead.
don't tell them, don't let them know.
and he looks out the
window
and watches the rain come down in
sheets of gray water.
Sometime when he had not been paying
attention, the rain had started up once again. The kabuki theatre was crowded
and hot. Hyottoko had never been to a kabuki play before, and was enjoying his
first experience thoroughly. Aoshi, however, stood at the door, watching the
rain fall.
Suddenly, his senses told him that
Kanryuu and Hyottoko were no longer inside the theatre. He closed his eyes for
a brief moment, drawing a deep breath. Then he walked into the rain. They were
in a narrow alley behind the theatre, he realized. A dark alley that they had
passed earlier in the night. A sense of foreboding filled his heart. He began
to run.
As he neared the alley, he could see
Hyottoko at the entrance, fending off a group of shadowy figures. One, two,
three, four, five... eight of them. All armed with katana. (Katana?) He put on
an extra burst of speed, drawing out his kodachi.
"The fire," he whispered
urgently, "use your fire!" even as he realized that Hyottoko's only
weapon could do no good in the heavy rain. But there was no time to regret his
foolish decision to bring the fire giant along on this trip. Aoshi swept down
upon the shadowy attackers like a hawk upon its prey, kicking down one man and
slashing across another. Hyottoko acknowledged his timely arrival with a quick
grin.
Even weaponless, the fire man put up
a good fight. But the young okashira could see that his man was already hurt,
and the two of them remained outnumbered. Aoshi scanned their wet surroundings
quickly, thinking hard. Then he tried to catch the giant's eye, signaling to
him his next command. Hyottoko looked up and saw the young okashira's subtle
gesturing. The fire man nodded and proceeded to maneuver himself and three of
the attackers deeper into the dark alley. Out of the corner of his eye, Aoshi
noticed a grayish lump in a shadowed corner of the alleyway. Kanryuu's blurred,
pathetic figure huddled, still alive, behind the gray bulk. Aoshi felt a sudden
odd burst of anger. He punched viciously at the three who had remained to fight
him.
Hyottoko had reached the end of the
alley, where the eaves of a building hung over and shielded the ground from the
falling rain. Aoshi pushed aside his fury and shouted, "Now, Hyottoko!
Now!"
Hyottoko took a deep breath. And
then fire came bursting from his mouth. There were screams, muffled by the
pounding rain. Burning flesh, hissing steam. Aoshi ignored the noise, ignored
the smell, concentrating only on the fight before him. He moved as if in a
dream. There was nothing left but him and his opponents and the rain. Yet
somehow, even as Hyottoko breathed fire into the shadows, and the cold steel
blade of his kodachi sliced through the night, and blood spurted into the air
in a scarlet spray, Aoshi thought he could smell the fresh salty scent of the
sea.
The
fresh spray of the sea upon his bare skin. the lonely cry of a gull
soaring high above
him.
"ashita hamabe o,"
angry dark violet-blue waves, crashing against
a rocky gray shore, breaking into foamy white.
"sa ma yo eba..."
it is a simple, almost childish tune,
yet eerily haunting. he has heard it in his
dreams and his memories so many times
now that he can recite the words by heart, but he cannot for the life of him
remember why the melody seems so familiar.
the sky is tinged with a grayish pink.
it is an odd feeling, looking
at this otherworldly sky, for he has
been dreaming of fiery orange suns sinking down below crimson skies stained
with blood, and yellow moons in an inky
black night sky. he has not dreamt of the sea in ages.
sometimes it rains. usually it does
not. this time, the sky is clear, save for a few wispy stray clouds, lazily
drifting past.
he walks
along the quiet beach, feeling the
grains of sand shifting
between his toes. this he finds
strange, too. he cannot recall the last time he walked barefoot.
"mukashi no koto zo..."
echoing, lingering notes. they fade
away at last, reluctantly. he glances back and sees his
footprints, a lonely trail in the
smooth sandy shore. it begins to rain.
and the sun explodes even as it rises,
a
scarlet flower in a darkening sky, and
his ears are
filled with the mournful wailing of
gulls circling above him like vultures, then falling
to
the
earth
like fluttering white scarves.
the beach burns. the furious flames
leap high into the sky, dancing all about him.
he burns. it rains.
the wind howls with rage. and then
there
is only the inescapable darkness.
it smells like death.
It smelled like death in the
darkness of the night.
He gasped for breath. The rain
battered him like a thousand cold daggers piercing him all at once.
It felt as if he were suffocating,
suffocating within the ever-encroaching shadows.