SOMETHING MORE
It was at the peak of the Great Joui War. [1]
The gathering was shrouded by a grimness that even the tension managed to penetrate the still air, the same air that used to shuffle trees and shake the mighty mountains. Clouds hung low over the ancient temple, grey and laden, as if sacredness was within men's grasp.
Known as leaders among men and men among men, the four warriors assemble at a vacant corner of the spacious hall.
The shabby temple nestled in a rolling valley, on a hill overlooking the Bakufu's camps below still recovering from recent attacks. So besides the grunts and painful moans of the wounded Joui soldiers being tended outside the temple, the settlement struck as an ideal place for strategizing campaigns and indulging in certain mind games—that counted on luck as strictly as on wits.
Like Uno.
"Draw four," said Sakata Gintoki, tossing the cards on top of the pile in between the players with a most bored flick of his hand.
"I suppose the winners are settled," added Katsura, who also exposes his cards onto the pile. Another winner.
Sakamoto Tatsuma, the Dragon of Katsurahama, whistled to the cards he held, brows raised over his boisterous-yet-insightful eyes in an expression nothing but impressed. "I guess I got lucky this time," he said good-naturedly, then revealed his round.
Three winners.
Takasugi sat with his legs still crossed, clutching onto the useless numbers and colors of his cards, silent as the forests around them.
"Tsk," Gintoki tutted from across. "Damn amateurs who can't even put up with a good match. Winning against you lot means nothing."
Though he was addressing all of the players, one simply couldn't miss the venomous disdain thrown at only one particular peer, who sat facing him and was now rising to his feet.
"You've lost, Takasugi," said Katsura with his usual composure. "We'll entrust the night vigil to your team."
"Even without that ridiculous game, I'm still planning to keep watch anyway," Takasugi said after dismissing the cards to the floor.
He crossed the hall to the entrance, where the door revealed twilight gradually plaguing the sky in strange, sorrowful hues and reflecting its emotions on each peak of the distant mountains. The enemy's camp was at the east, leaving the west view at least unmarred.
Gintoki's contemptuous voice rang over the area. "Says the sucker who can't win the ridiculous game. Oi, are you two sure we can leave an important scouting task to him? I don't think I can sleep in peace tonight."
"Rest assured, Gintoki," Takasugi said, unprovoked. "The Kiheitai puts our wits into actual battle tactics, not getting worked up on child games for some desperation to win."
He looked at him over his shoulder, and seeing Gintoki's nonchalant face as he picked his nose, he added, "Get on to bed, kiddy. I'll give you a night of fulfilling sleep on my watch."
"Ah?" Gintoki flicked his pinky finger at Sakamoto. "Why don't you come here and I'll show you who's the kiddy?"
"Won't you two leave it at that?" Katsura interrupted with a scowl. "Can you not hold a normal conversation for once? It's getting annoying."
"What was that, Zura? For someone who doesn't have an insect pestering them to no end, you won't understand."
"Zura janai, Katsura da. And..."
Takasugi walked out of the hall. Soon later, Sakamoto's obnoxious laugh carried all the way to the temple gate, where the Kiheitai Commander stood leaning against the wood.
The rebel camp spread out on the field below, dotted with soldiers hurrying about to tend to the wounded. Many heaving bodies were strewn across stretches stained with blood old and fresh. But each breathed, some joked to alleviate their pain. And they were surviving, that was what mattered most.
Twilight eventually melted to night. The slow withdrawal of the sun was as if they had all the time in the world. As if a raging war wasn't eating away at them little by little each time a comrade fell.
And turmoil started its countdown.
♠️♦️♠️
I run as fast as my numb legs can carry me.
Fleeing through the wet forest-floor, jerking over gnarled roots, I only pray that the cries of the baby in my arms won't be the cause to us to our doom.
I can't hear my pursuers over the ragged pants that are tearing apart my throat. I don't know if they're still close behind, and it doesn't matter if I'm losing a sense of direction as I march forth like my life depends on it. This child's life depends on it. The memory of those cold-blooded men sheathing blades toward a newborn is enough to push my feet past its limits.
Forward.
Forward and forward still.
Until the trackless ground slopes upward onto a hill and becomes harder to climb. As we pass each beech trees—so dense they plunge the woods shades darker than the dusk—the baby's shrieks rise to a whole new hysteria.
"Hush, hush." I look behind my back before daring to slow down. Nature's cries envelop us, but so far the bushes behind me remain unmoving.
"Hush, sweetheart," I rasp, attempting to calm her. The bundle of things strapped to my back feels heavier with every passing second. "Everything's alright. I'll keep you safe, I promise I will. So hang on a little longer, okay?"
After she calms down a part, I continue on, still not convinced that I've missed my pursuers completely yet.
I stop short when the forest abruptly clears away, to an ancient temple situated on top of the hill. A set of stairs cuts into the stone of the valley, flanked by deep undergrowth on both sides that shrouds the horizon beyond.
Alarm still thrumming in my blood, I waste no time to rush up the stairs, clutching my child close to my chest and begging for someone to please be present.
As I reach the top step, two armed men briskly unsheathe their blades. "Who are you?" one of them demands, leaving his post by the gate.
"Please," I pant, out of breath, broken and worn. "Please save us. Some people are trying to kill my child! Please help us!"
When both of them approach, wariness in the way they grip their sword, I instinctively step back and hug the baby closer for protection. Tears have dried on my cheeks, and my bloodshot eyes assess if coming up here could end up worse than being stranded alone.
"What's going on?" asks a voice from behind the gate.
Before the patrols can answer, the gate swings open. A young man with hair as dark as the twilight steps out. His eyes land on me within seconds.
"Commander, this woman claims—"
"Anata!" I cry out. [2] I'm halfway hurrying toward the young man when the gate gets fully opened from the inside.
"What's all the commotion about?" another new voice demands.
I reach out to grasp the sleeve of the dark-haired Commander, relief making my voice thick with newborn tears. "Anata...so I've finally found you. How could you be so heartless as to abandon us both?"
Everyone goes still. All eyes fall on us.
Then the man with long black hair finally speaks, "T-Takasugi, don't tell me..."
♠️♦️♠️
"Oi, Takasugi, you've impressed me this time. Who would've thought that losing a round of Uno against us meant that much to you. Ah, but to pile your anger up on an innocent lady..."
"How many times do I need to repeat myself? Don't put me in the same level as you."
Wiping drools of the baby's lips, I rock her until her red, fussy features are soothed in a light sleep. After being offered refuge inside the temple, my awareness is still yet glass-sharp and the only comfort lies in the small bundle breathing against my chest.
I turn to the boys. "How could you say that, Anata? After what we did together last night, all the things you said to me as you climbed over—"
"Like hell I did," snaps my dark-haired Anata. "And how can you bear to make this accusation of yourself?"
"That won't do, Takasugi," inserts the man with curly brown hair—and unnerving laughs—seated near the stern-looking Zura-san. "A man's got to admit to his deeds when he's done them. For that's what makes 'em a man."
"Don't you get it, Tatsuma?" The witty-mouth, Gintoki if I remember his name right, comes to crouch by me. "The fact that he's a man at all is because Papa favors a son over a daughter. Now, look at this indifferent face. Seems like Papa's son favors a daughter after all."
On impulse, I glance at the victim of the mess I've made. Despite all the insults thrown at him, he remains silently by the entrance, overlooking whatever horrific army camp is below. I realize I'm staring and quickly bring my face back to my child.
"But to run into the frontline, I can't say whether your lucky or simply ill-fated," Zura-san says, his stern voice cutting over the chatter of the others.
"I'm very sorry for troubling you all when you're dealing with so much," I say, directing the apology more to the young Commander by the door. Whether he hears or not, I have no way to make sure.
"I figured if I didn't say all of those things, you wouldn't be convinced that I wasn't a spy," I continue. "There were truly men after me, after my baby, trying to kill us both. They have been chasing me since last night."
And now the night is falling again, reminding me of the terror of when I was found out at dawn. I can't imagine how am I appearing currently, much less describe the bone-depth exhaustion in my blood.
"Who are they, exactly? And why on earth are they after you?" Gintoki asks. The others have quieted, and all have their attention on me.
I fight not to squirm being underneath the search of all the intensive eyes. But I cannot cower, not anymore now—the breathing weight in my arms is evident. I am a mother, and mothers do not cower.
"Killers they were, patrollers-anyone-just...men whom I've never crossed ways with." My voice comes out almost insensitive, as opposed to how it really is. "I don't know what they want with us."
Gintoki's eyes linger on me the longest, and I don't let mine waver. Upon intuition, I know I can trust these men, just as I trust their cause in fighting in the occurring war. They're battling for the same land, in which I need to keep my child safe, away from all the world's tragedy and bloodshed.
Away from all the truth.
"You've gotten yourself into a pretty hot mess, lady," Gintoki says, making himself comfortable on the floor. "Or rather, maybe your husband did. Maybe he's the reason why killers are after you. You should never underestimate desperate people."
"I don't have a husband," I correct instinctively, then end up indicating with my chin. "That's why he's my new Anata."
Takasugi shoots me a glare from the door. I smile in return, and surprisingly find the gesture becoming true.
"Alright alright." Gintoki flicks a finger that had been in his nose at Zura, whose disgusted face frowns so deeply and he scolds.
"Oi, the Anata over there," Gintoki says, "why don't you show the Anata here to your room? After what you did to her, now she looks like a starved demon with eye bags. Take responsibility alright, honey?"
As the two starts bickering again, a current of laughter starts from Tatsuma-san.
"Takasugi's a rich young master from a decent family, so you can use that to your advantage," he tells me, pointing a thumb to the group's victim. "Top of that, he even got his own little room when we're so short on space. It'll give exactly the privacy you ladies need."
"Are you sure it's alright?" I question, and cast another nervous glance at the door. "After what I said, I don't think he'd tolerate that much—"
"Don't worry! Despite his looks, all he ever did to a woman is glare at her to no end, much less climb over them."
"Eh?" My face burns all of the sudden at the misunderstanding. "N-no! I don't mean—"
"Oi."
The velvety voice stops me short.
I quickly look to the door, but instead see him standing a few paces from me at the mouth of a corridor. "Hurry up and let's go," Takasugi says, before he vanishes into the shadows.
"R-right." I carefully rise, taking my bundle of accessories, and mutter a mouthful of thank-yous to the others before heading to the corridor, into a new refuge of many unknown things.
But it seems like I can look forward to another night without feeling afraid.
♠️♦️♠️
I've believed that being saved by a group of kind warriors implies that sleep is offered. How sorely have I mistaken.
After waking up, the baby resumed her previous hysteria as if the brief nap had restored her energy to thrash. Her cries persist into the deep night and show no sign of relenting.
I pace the narrow room restlessly, all the while rocking the poor child to at least rest her throat. The only barrier between this little privacy of mine and the corridor is an aged screen-door that shuts away the secluded chamber of the already secluded temple. Our noises might as well resonate to the enemy camps.
I peep anxiously through the tiny gap I made of the door. And despite not having taken a step away from the room since dusk, I feel the heaviness of the hall that's most likely occupied by numerous soldiers.
I wonder what that person is thinking out of me, now that he's forced to share space and not getting sleep anyway.
Flustered, I pace back inside to grab a milk bottle I've been heating and put it to the infant's lips. At least she gets quiet when she's being fed.
"Looks like you're having a hard time."
I nearly jump at the voice. A shadow appears on the other side of the screen-door when I look over, though I already know from his voice.
"Don't all mothers do?" I adjust the bottle back in place for the child. "I—I'm really sorry for this. But I can't just take her outside."
"I've never seen a child this much unsettled when with their mother," Takasugi says.
The statement would have provoked something from me, but exhaustion is beating down like a physical force. "She's simply startled is all. We've had a long day."
"Is she?"
I turn to the door at his tone, my weary eyes studying his silhouette. There's a thick silence that extends between us, the child finally behaving at strange timings.
"I haven't seen," he adds a while later when I don't speak, "a mother feeding a newborn from milk bottles."
I bristle at the implication. "Is it? I could just be malnourished. If not, then should a gentleman be peeking at a woman breastfeeding her child?"
"You're the one who left the door open," he says.
I throw a scowl at him, though it only bounces off the door between us.
"Well," he continues, "if you say so, then we'll leave it at that." The shadow begins to lighten until it disappears from the screen. "And sleep doesn't come to any of us the way you believe it would. Adding a brat's wails to it doesn't change any much."
When I'm certain he's walking away, it's like my body is possessed. My feet suddenly leap to the door and I shove it aside.
"Wait."
I don't know what compels him to do as told; my word or the tremor of my voice. The first clue of emotion sparks in his eyes as he looks over his shoulder to me, seeing what the baby feels, a stream of moisture dripping on her cheeks.
"Please, wait," I repeat, suddenly trembling all over.
I turn my face away in shame, tears running down as if let loose from a hidden well. Gently, I lay the child down on the futon quilt. The bottle stays limp on her body, empty, and her dark eyes watch me in curiosity.
I hastily wipe my eyes. I'm aware that he's remaining as he is, his silence a burden yet a comfort at the same as I recollect myself.
"She's not my child," I confess. "But my best friend's. Against my advice, Yuka works in a brothel downtown and accidentally got herself pregnant with a client. She's been keeping it a secret with the help of the other women, but nothing can happen without the owner finding out. She gave birth, and so, violated the heaviest protocol of any brothels.
"Either her life or the child's was what the owner made her choose. And neither of them would live should she dare to bail, Yuka knew that, and yet...
"I had to do it. I would rather have her recaptured by those men alone and I would escape with her child. They wouldn't kill her after all the fortunes she's attracted for them and as long as the child's gone. I would rather have her hate me, curse me, but—I'll bring the child to safety. It's the least I can do."
I absently stroke the child's face. When not crying, her features are as gorgeous and graceful as her real mother. Maybe she just wanted me to talk to her about Yuka, maybe that's why she's listening intently now.
I look to the door, thinking if he's still there. And seeing that he is, his back to me, something tight inside of me finally unties and allows me to breathe freer.
The truth is out at least. Out to the same man whom I've first laid my eyes on, one of whom I'm lucky enough encounter in this forsaken place. I don't know if I can have the luxury to get to know them—know him.
I take a deep breath. "Now that the baby is finally asleep and there's plenty of space left," I say, my voice hoarse, "would you like to stay in here? I can sleep outside."
His response comes a moment late. "Already trusting a stranger with your child after promising to keep her safe?"
Now that I observe, he's much younger than my first impression of him. Young to be called a Commander, yet the name strangely matches him so. I find that I want him to stay as he walks further out.
"Safeguarding a brat or two aside, make sure to have the energy to carry them first is the thing," he says as he goes.
At the end of the corridor, he turns to the outer hall. And as he does so, through the darkness partly brightened by the candlelight in the room, I know for certain that our eyes have locked. It stuns me once again how emotions could be told by just a single glance, a fleeting glimpse.
So, I thank this night's check-up visit. For sleep is finally offered. Full and deep.
-To be continued
•Reference:
[1]: Parody of Sakamoto's bathroom line in episode 270.
[2]: Anata technically means You, but at other times, it's an endearment used to address one's husband. (Equivalent to Dear.)
So, new chapter! I'm glad I could get this out quicker than last time. This chapter is dedicated to Trihajung Px_yxrrx_rk05 and most of all, Scaryemomom (I'm so sorry for handing out your request late even though you were the first in line. Just needed some time off from this maniac, you know, after three books about him. Writing about him drives me crazy sometimes, but I have the most fun.)
I hope this chapter was enjoyable for you as it was for me to write.
Stay safe,
Miei