The First of Autumn


I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, I don't own Saitou Hajime, I stole the
title from Enya, but the story is all mine!

Well, first of all thank you for your reviews and your critics *bowing
deep in front of you*
@ those who are not as ignorant as I am and know about Japanese
tradition, history and stuff: I checked Saitou´s ´real´ family
circumstances and changed some things in the course of the story. Of
course this doesn't make it a biography (hey, it's fiction, isn't it?)
@ Mara: no more Plato. Better?

I know that the family relationships I describe are somehow ... hm ...
abnormal, but I thought that a person like Saitou must have had a real
...special... childhood. And I was sort of inspired by Anne Rice
"Vampire Chronicles" and the relationship between Gabrielle and Lestat.

Oh yes, I am not a native speaker, so if you find some mistakes, you may
keep them. ^_^


A house in Tokyo.
A house in nothing different from the other houses around them, in
nothing different from the world it belonged to. The little boy looked
up to this place, his amber eyes not showing any of his emotions. With a
certain grace, rarely seen in a child so young, he made his way towards
his destination, ignoring the people who crossed his way.
There had always been a feeling of solitude hanging around here, he
realized almost analytically, there had always be this quietness, this
unnerving silence that only hid the fact that decadence and hatred
threatened to swallow the whole place. No, he had never liked the Kanda
Kogawa District. But today it was even worse since the only person who
had ever made this place a life worthy one, the only one for whom he
called this wretched thing home was going to leave his life forever.

There had never been a day in Yamaguchi Hajime´s life when he had not
loved his mother. Sometimes he cursed her to the bottoms of hell, there
were times when he wished eternal redemption on her, but there had not
been a single minute when he hat not loved her. It was a paradox he
couldn't quite explain himself; he only knew that he had no choice
regarding this matter. What could he do but love her for her
intelligence, for her being so absolutely different from all other women
he knew, for never telling him to eat his meal or to go bed or to do any
of the other stupid things common mothers expected their children to do?
In the boy's eye, Yamaguchi Masu was the most intriguing person in the
whole world and he couldn't help himself about being proud of her quick
wit, her coolness and her sharp tongue that made even the insufferable
samurais, who sometimes came to his father in order to demand money, shy
and timid. Were it not for her being so indifferent towards him and her
never giving him any tenderness or any hints that her love for him was
as great and fiery as his emotions for her, he would have adored her
like a goddess.
And now this goddess was going to die and he would be the only one who
would truly mourn for her. The other members of his neighbourhood and
even of his family would probably shed tears over tears and hold endless
monologues about the fatality of the world, but secretly they would be
glad that they would no longer be forced to deal with this strange,
low-voiced woman, virtually useless to anyone but herself, who never
really found a place among them.
Yamaguchi Masu had never been a woman who made people like her. With her
coldness, her indifference and her unintentionally viciousness, she
rejected nearly all her acquaintances, and even her family. Not that it
mattered to her for she disliked human beings from the bottom of her
heart. If there was one thing, Masu loved besides herself, it was
literature; she spent hours and hours in her small chamber, reading one
book after another without a pause, without a single thought for any
other person on earth. Sometimes weeks passed in which she did not speak
a single word to her husband or her three children, and if she did, her
words showed nothing but a lack of interest for all of them. Although
Hajime was still a little child, he had always understood that his
mother did not love his father like other women loved their husbands and
that his pure presence disgusted her. In a quite unreflected way, he
shared this attitude for the mere sight of Yamaguchi Yusuke sitting in
the living room, drinking a bottle of sake and never even making the
effort to think by himself instead of doing whatever the land lords
demanded of him, really sickened him, but he never comprehended why
Masu´s hatred for this man did mirror itself in her relationship to her
children; he absolutely could not answer the question why she would not
even touch him or his two older siblings, why she never let anybody near
her, physically or mentally. He did not comprehend it, but he never
rejected and hated her for this like Keiko-neesan and Hiroaki-niichan
did - but then these two were idiots like all the rest of their damn
neighbourhood, who thought that the Kanda Kogawa district was already
the whole world! The only person who would be able to understand his
yearning for a different space, the only one, whose love and respect he
longed to gain, was his mother, but she was unreachable for him, always
deep within some dangerous chamber of her own thoughts.
This had only changed in the winter of his fifth year of life when he
suddenly desired to be taught to read. Masu had been sitting in the same
room as her husband to whom Hajime had come in order to pester him with
his wish. He still remembered her staring thoughtfully at him while he
had listened half-heartedly to his father complaining about what
absolutely nonsense it was to learn all these intellectual things when
he would never be able to use them. When he thought about it, he could
still recall this wonderful thrill her look had gave him and how excited
when she had stopped his father's monologue roughly by saying: ´If the
boy wants to learn something, then he definitely will!´
This was when their odd relationship began.
From this night on, they had met in Masu´s little room every day, where
she had taught him how to hold a brush, how to read fluently and, the
most important thing, how to dream of another world, where one would
give him the opportunity to walk his own path. He never had to tell her
how much the monotony and the boredom of their life disgusted him, never
had to tell her that he longed to be part of the world the philosophers
and poets described, for he knew that she understood him too well even
without words. Not that all words of human tongue could have been able
to express the fire of his emotions anyway...
He still remembered the summer day they were reading haikus to each
other, when Masu had suddenly and without an obvious reason stopped, her
expression unreadable. `Little wolf´, these were the first words she had
uttered after a long period of silence. `That's what you are, Hajime, a
little wolf.´
Then she had began to speak, as long as the boy had never heard her
speak before, telling him about the strange amusement and satisfaction
she felt whenever he pestered his father or the neighbours with
unpleasant questions or troublesome ideas, about him being her manly
side, the part of her that was wild and uncontrollable and about other
odd things the child did not understand. But all her words had been like
dust in the wind to him. The only thing that had mattered was that she
had finally, finally put her arm around him to brush his hair with a
light kiss.

Hajime smiled bitterly when he thought about that night four years ago.
Then he slowly opened the door and entered the dark room.
`For God's sake, can't you even let me die in peace?!´
The boy tried to ignore the pain the harsh voice and the even harsher
words caused in him. ´It's me, mother.´
Silence for a moment. Then he heard a little sigh. ´Come in.´
Without a word he moved to her side, not bothering to tell her that she
should lie in bed instead of sitting at the window and stare at the
outside world. His eyes silently examined her, the thin features of her
face, the irritating cold amber of her eyes, the hard line of her mouth
and for the first time he realised that they both looked very much alike.
Her eyes were still set on the trees in their autumn beauty, whose
lively colours only hid the fact that they were going to die soon. Just
like her, the boy thought and his pain increased.
`Beautiful, ne?´ Masu asked after a short time. `I am glad I had a last
chance to see them.´
The boy did not answer but agreed silently. Yes, beautiful indeed. But
not half as beautiful as she was.
Again he looked down to this elegant woman all wrapped in midnight-blue
and gold, and in spite of her illness, in spite of everything, he felt
secure and in peace like always when he saw his mother's white hands,
her traditional hair dress, her serenity. This was Japan, this was good,
this was all he longed to preserve.
´Stop starring at me like an idiot´, his mother interrupted his
thoughts. ´We cannot change the state of things, can we? So you
shouldn't worry about me but about you!´
So pragmatic, even in the hour of her death. Hajime wondered if he
should be surprised but then Masu had always been a mystery to him.
´What do you mean?´ he asked hesitantly, although already knowing the
answer.
She snorted. ´What do I mean? I want to know what you plan to do after
my death of course, ahou!´
The nine-year-old boy did not know how to answer, wondering if she even
knew how much she tortured him or how much he loved her. ´Must we speak
of this?´
Perhaps she heard the pain in his voice for she finally turned towards
him, her eyes veiled by something Hajime couldn't have named. For a
moment the boy thought, she would lift her hand and touch him. But she
didn't. ´I am going to die, my son´, she told him with what seemed to be
complete indifference. `You never closed your eyes in front of reality.
Please don't begin to do it now.´
Still not knowing how to answer, he continued to stare at her. So
fragile, so ill, so beyond any helping and yet so strong. He felt tears
rising up in him, tears he could not allow to flow, if he did not want
to lose her respect. Neither could he touch her. He could do nothing but
embrace her with the weight of his stare.
`Well, big choice´, he finally said. What the hell did she want to hear?
His defiant words made her smile and finally her hand brouched his cheek
in a touch light as a butterfly's. `Little wolf. In all my life I have
never found anyone with a strength like mine unless you.` Her eyes were
unusually warm. ´Remember what we read about that ancient philosopher
last winter? Guess you are my lost part, little one.´
´Mother.´ More than anything, Hajime wanted to throw his arms around
her, to comfort her and himself any way he could, but he knew too
clearly that she would never allow it. It was hard enough for her to let
him see her illness; his love would be more than she could stand.
´Hajime, I want you to know that...´ Whatever she wanted to say remained
unsaid since her words turned into a moist cough. A painful groan
escaped her when she saw that blood had been seeping from her mouth.
With a growing sense of dread, Hajime catched his breath, cursing his
egoism that had not seen in what a bad state she actually was. Again he
wanted to embrace her, again he dared not to.
Masu laughed bitterly when she saw his fear. `I am not so bad, little
wolf. Nearly not bad enough. I wish it were far worse so that I would be
glad to die, so that I would not have this terrible fear.´ Her golden
eyes were very sincere. `Believe me, my son, there is nothing honourful
in death.´
Mother, onegai...don't go! Don't leave me all alone!
Why was it impossible to him to shout these words in her face?!
Her fingers inclined with his. `Promise me that you will go on", she
whispered. Again a wave of pain overwhelmed her and she paused for a
long minute before continuing, her voice even quieter than before.
´Swear it to me, Hajime! Swear to leave this place and never to look
back. Be strong, be reckless, fight for whatever reason you consider it
necessary to fight for, but don't look back.´
He didn't really understand. He understood nothing but that she was
going to leave him alone. In spite of this he swore.
Masu fell back. `Good´, she whispered. `Good, now I can die in peace.´
Again, she struggled with the pain, then she finally gained enough
strength to continue once again. `I have sold my jewellery, little
wolf´, her voice was so quiet, he could just barely hear her. `One part
I have spent to hire a sword master who will come to you every day after
my death in order to teach you kenjutsu. The other part I hid in
Murasaki´s Tale of Prince Genji. When you are older, it will help you to
leave this place and to find your place in the world.`
´But father and the others...´
´To hell with them!´ she hissed. Then her eyes got warmer. `Aishiteru,
little wolf. I am sorry, I didn't tell you earlier.´
He didn't care anymore. With a sharp wail he threw his arms around her
and buried her face against her breasts. ´Mother! No, mother! I don't
want the money. I don't want kenjutsu. I JUST WANT YOU!´
For a moment her body tightened, then she stroked his head ever so
gently. It was the briefest of gestures, but it told him more than
words, it told him everything.
He didn't know how many minutes had passed away, but sometime in this
endless embrace, Yamaguchi Masu´s eyes finally closed to be never
reopened again. Sometime she had just died.
The boy looked down to the dead woman in his arms for a very long time.
Then he gently kissed her lips. `Sayonara, mommy,´ he finally gave her
his last good-bye.


So, what do you say? Please comment on it!!!

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