Koshijirou Kamiya sipped his tea. It was strong and bitter; Kaoru had made it, and Kaoru was not nearly as competent in the kitchen as she was in the dojo. From beneath lowered lids he watched his guest sip also. Buntaro Ishida was a big, coarse man who had made a name for himself during the Boshin War and used his reputation to open his own dojo after the Restoration. Koshijirou disliked him. Ishida-kan students often caused trouble in town, and the worst offender of all was Buntaro’s eighteen-year-old son Ikuro. Even now, eight years into the new Meiji era, the townsfolk were reluctant to bring complaint against a shizoku, so Ikuro and his cronies did pretty much as they pleased, and no townsman’s pretty wife or daughter was safe from them.
“Tea’s bad,” Buntaro growled.
“Please forgive me,” Koshijirou murmured. “My unworthy daughter lacks skill.”
“You ought to keep her in the kitchen instead of letting her mess about with a shinai. Women should be kept in their place and not be allowed to stick their noses in men’s business.” Bad or not, he took another sip. “Actually, it’s about your daughter that I came to see you.”
“Oh?”
“I know Ikuro has caused some problems. Young men can be wild, I bet you were yourself at that age, na, Kamiya-san? Anyway, what Ikuro needs is something to keep him home at night, settle him down, teach him responsibility. Now, your school is small, you have no son, and your daughter needs a man to make a proper woman of her. Mine is growing and my son needs a wife. We’re neither of us young any more – wouldn’t you like to grow old with grandchildren around you?”
“Umm,” Koshijirou replied. “Kaoru is only fourteen, too young to marry.”
“Only by a year,” Ishida countered. “Fifteen is a good age. I know you’ve been concerned about her future and your school’s, but once our children are married and our schools are joined, you can stop worrying. Of course, the girl has her flaws. She’s too independent for a woman, playing at kenjutsu instead of learning how to take care of a man’s needs. That will have to change.”
“I see.” Koshijirou was silent for a long moment. “And naturally, once your son inherits Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu, he will expect to make other changes as well?”
“You mean that slogan of yours, about swords preserving life? Come now, Kamiya-san, we both know that’s nothing but a joke. What is a sword for, if not killing? Preserving lives wasn’t how our side won the war. Anyway, the best way to preserve your own life is to kill your enemy.”
“I see. You still wish you could have been a hitokiri.”
“It was hitokiri like the great Battousai who opened the way to the Meiji era! Yes, I would have been proud to have been one of them!”
Koshijirou shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Ishida-san. Unfortunately, I do not think a union of our families would be the best thing for either my school’s future or my daughter’s happiness. Please do not think less of me, and choose another wife for Ikuro-kun.”
Ishida stood up. “I thought you’d be like this, Kamiya. But Ikuro has a fancy for the girl, so I told him I’d see what I could do. He’s not used to not getting what he wants.”
Koshijirou watched him go, shaking his head. There was no way he would ever give his lovely, spirited Kaoru-chan to a lout like Ikuro. Still, Ishida had a point. He wasn’t getting any younger. One day the school would have to be passed on. He had no son… and it was unthinkable for a woman to lead a dojo. One day Kaoru would have to marry.
But never would he give her to a man who would try to chain her or break her spirit. And never, never would he give her, or his school, to a man who didn’t understand what a truly terrible thing it was to wield the killer’s sword.
“Well, Oyaji? Did you talk to Kamiya?”
Buntaro Ishida scowled at his son, who was lounging in the main room with two of his cronies, drinking his best sake. He had long ago given up on trying to get Ikuro to show the smallest degree of respect. “I did.”
“And…?”
“Exactly as I told you. Kamiya-san won’t hear of you, either as a husband for his girl or as an heir to his school. I told you it would be best to forget the idea. Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu is too small, too defensive in style. There are other schools it would be better to ally with. And the girl is too young, too independent. If you want to marry, let me find you a more docile wife.”
“I don’t want a docile wife, Oyaji. Docile girls aren’t any fun. But pretty little Kaoru… I could have a lot of fun breaking her. And my dachi can help, na?” He laughed, and his friends joined in.
It was the sake talking, it was only the sake. Ikuro couldn’t mean what it sounded like. His son, his only child, his heir… true, the boy was wild, he was forceful with women as a true man should be, and the Kamiya girl did need to learn a woman’s proper place… but that didn’t mean you treated a wife like a…
“Oyaji. If you won’t get her for me, I guess I’ll just have to get her for myself!” Ikuro burst into fresh guffaws.
That went really well, Kaoru thought to herself as she walked across the bridge. Maekawa-sensei’s style is really different from Chichi’s. I think I could learn a lot from him. And I think I showed some of them what girls can do, too!
Koshijirou Kamiya had been spending an increasing amount of time in meetings at police headquarters. The unrest in Satsuma was a matter for growing concern, and with so many police officers being Satsuma men… it wasn’t that their loyalty was suspect, at least not now, but the older, more immediate loyalty was to the han. Only time could replace the old loyalty with the new one, to emperor and nation. If they didn’t have that time, if Satsuma should come to open rebellion, then the city’s kenjutsu masters might be called on to fill the gaps left by police who would side with their han.
With all that going on he no longer had time to give Kaoru the advanced training she needed, so he had arranged with his friend Maekawa for her to practice at his dojo. He could trust Maekawa not to harass Kaoru because of her sex – and to work her just as hard as he worked his male students.
“Konnichiwa, Kaoru-chan.” Ikuro Ishida fell into step beside her as she stepped off the bridge. One of his buddies took up a position on her other side; a second slid behind her.
“I… Ishida-kun,” Kaoru stammered. They’re boxing me in – what do they want?
“My father went to see yours the other day,” Ikuro began.
“Oh?” Good, the corner’s just ahead. I can get away and get home.
“Yeah. Y’see, Oyaji’s gettin’ old and I’ll be takin’ over his dojo soon, and your dad’s not gettin’ any younger either, and well, you bein’ a girl you can’t run a dojo by yourself, so well, I thought you and me…”
“Ishida-kun,” Kaoru murmured in shock.
He shrugged. “Your old man didn’t go for it either. But this is the new era, we don’t need our dads to order us around. How about it, Kaoru-chan?” He leaned over her, close, too close. “You’re pretty, and I like girls with spirit.” The dull ones aren’t any fun to break. “What say we go to this little place I know, have some sake, and arrange things to suit ourselves?” He leered, savoring the fear that flashed through her eyes.
She took a step back, her hand to her mouth, her cheeks pink. “Ishida-kun… no…”
He laughed, a low, nasty chuckle. “You don’t get it, Kaoru-chan. You’re coming, one way or the other. But if you come on your own, then it can be just you and me. If my dachi have to help bring you, well, then, I gotta let them in on it too.”
Fear gave way to anger. She stepped back and drew her shinai. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Ishida-kun! I challenge you!”
“Huh?” His two cronies blinked. This wasn’t in the plan.
“If you can defeat me, I’ll… I’ll go with you, and you can do whatever you want. But if I beat you, then you leave me alone. For good! Okay?”
Ikuro licked his lips. This was going even better than he thought! There was no way this slip of a girl could beat Ikuro Ishida! A little fight to get his blood up, and then… oh yes, it was going to be glorious, punishing her for presuming to challenge a man. He was going to have a lot of fun teaching her a woman’s proper place!
“Anything you say, Kaoru-chan.”
“Want my sword, sempai?” one of his cronies asked.
“Nah. I don’t wanna slice her, just teach her a lesson.” He drew his bokken. Kaoru was already in a solid defensive stance, inviting him to take the initiative. “Okay, bitch,” he muttered. “We’ll play it your way.” He charged.
His momentum carried him into a pile of wooden tubs. They crashed down on top of him, and he fell heavily into the wreckage. He was bruised and scratched when he picked himself up, and his hands stung from the shock of his bokken meeting her shinai.
He wiped away a trickle of blood with the back of his hand. “That’s done it, bitch. No more nice guy. When I’m done with you my dachi can have you – for as long as you last.” He laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, not at all.
“It’s not over yet!” Kaoru snapped.
“Hurry up and beat her, sempai!” encouraged one of Ikuro’s friends.
Ikuro used the same attack again, a charge and vicious stroke to the midsection, and felt it connect solidly. But at the exact same moment, he also felt an impact and his whole left arm went numb. Damn that bitch!
Kaoru’s senses exploded in white fire. She fought to regain focus; it burned when she breathed or moved. I can’t let him beat me! I can’t let him… “Mada mada,” she hissed, and took up a formless stance. It hurt to breathe; her whole side felt like it was on fire. I can’t let him beat me. She forced herself to look at Ishida. He was pale and his left-hand grip was weak, like it was just resting on the bokken. His power’s cut in half. I can do this.
With a yell, Ishida charged.
He’s putting everything he’s got into this stroke, Kaoru saw. At the last possible moment, she sprang, bringing her shinai up in a sharp right-to-left stroke. She felt it hit something…
Her vision wavered in and out of focus; she fought down a wave of nausea. I can’t lose to a bully like Ishida! Slowly – she couldn’t move fast any more – she turned around.
Ishida was still on his feet. He too moved slowly and painfully; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “You little bitch,” he snarled. “Before I’m done you’ll beg me to kill you.” He took a shuffling step forward… and collapsed. His cronies rushed to his aid.
“Kaoru!”
Even as dizzy as she was, there was no mistaking her father’s tall, imposing figure or his stern voice. “Chichi…” Her father’s strongest rule, not to use the sword to fight, only to protect… but I was protecting… the words were in her heart but she couldn’t make them come out… he seemed so far away, she couldn’t reach him… but he was there, she could feel his strong arms around her, hear the concern in his voice, and just before blackness engulfed her she knew she was safe…
“Get Gensai-sensei!” Koshijirou Kamiya snapped to a startled shop-boy. The youth scurried away, and Kamiya strode through the crowded Asakusa streets with his unconscious daughter in his arms and an expression that sent the townsfolk scurrying for cover.
“Gensai’s been in there forever.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” Maekawa tried to reassure him. “Kaoru-chan is a strong girl. She’ll be fine.”
“I sat like this the day her mother… I feel just as useless as I did then.”
“It’s not the same. You can’t do very much about illness.”
“I should have seen this coming. Ishida offered for her, told me his son wanted her. I knew the boy’s reputation, but I never thought –”
“No one expected him to treat a samurai’s daughter like some street whore.”
“I should have been there, should have protected her.”
“You did protect her, Kamiya-kun. You gave her the determination and the skill to protect herself. That’s as much as any of us can do. You can’t be with her forever.”
“I know. But it’s hard, especially now. If there should be another war, she’d be left on her own.”
Maekawa was silent for a moment. “If I were twenty years younger I’d offer for her myself. As it is, I mentioned the matter to Hiroshi-kun, my young shihandai, but it seems his family’s already got him promised.”
The engawa creaked slightly as the pudgy old doctor sat down next to Kamiya. “She’s fine,” he said. “A broken rib, but that should mend without trouble if she keeps quiet and doesn’t do any kenjutsu till it heals.” His tone said clearly just how likely he thought that was. “Go on and see her, she’s been asking for you.”
She looked very fragile, almost as white as the futon except for the purple bruise on her cheek, lying in an uncharisterically ladylike straight line. So much like her mother…
“Chichi,” she whispered.
“Kaoru-chan…” Suddenly he didn’t know what to say to her. She was watching him as though she expected to be punished. “I didn’t realize, back there… the doctor says your rib is broken. Are you still in pain?”
“Not so much, now. He gave me something to drink.” Her eyelids were beginning to droop; the drug had probably been a sedative. “Chichi… do I have to stop doing kenjutsu?”
“Aa.”
She closed her eyes. Two tears rolled down her face and disappeared into her hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wanted to get away, but when he said that… I didn’t mean to disappoint you, Chichi.”
Smiling, he brushed the tears from her cheeks as if she were still a little girl. “No kenjutsu for you until Gensai-sensei says your ribs have healed. But after that, you’re going to make up for what you’ve missed and then some.”
Her eyes flew open in amazement. “Chichi… but your rule…”
“Is against picking fights, not against protecting yourself or others. Ishida-kun and his friends are matters for the police now, you won’t have to worry about them again. But we do need to step up your training.”
“Why?”
“Because unless something changes, there’s probably going to be another war. And I’ll either have to go and fight in it, or help by policing Tokyo. Either way, when it happens I won’t have time to teach. So I’ll feel much better leaving the school in the hands of a capable shihandai.”
“Shihandai… me?”
“Aa. Now go to sleep. You need to rest so you can get better, there’s a lot you need to learn before then.”
“Hai, Chichi. I won’t disappoint you again, I promise.” She obediently closed her eyes. Now that she was no longer tensed to face his disapproval, she succumbed quickly to Gensai’s medicine.
Disappoint me? His eyes stung; it must be some lingering odor from Gensai’s herbs. Let men like Ishida keep their sons; his Kaoru had enough pride and honor for any ten like them. He was silly to worry about her future; his school would be safe in her hands.
I only hope… for her happiness… that somewhere there is a man strong and gentle enough to deserve her.
NOTES, EXPLANATIONS ETC:
I came up with the idea of Kaoru having some old, long-healed fractures while I was noodling around with a lemon scene. Kenshin’s discovery got written out of the lemon, but the assumption remained that Kaoru had gotten her ribs broken at some point. Add to that somebody’s fic (gomen ne, I forget whose) where Kaoru fights a policeman who tried to rape her, and this was the result.
My thanks to Serizawa-kun for verifying the historical assumptions I made in trying to reconcile Koshijirou Kamiya’s known status as a dojo-master with the manga statement that he fought in the Southwest War “as a member of the Sword-Bearing Police.”
Language Notes:
Chichi: “Daddy.” Kaoru calls her father this in the manga.
Dachi: friends (short for tomodachi)
Han: province (the old feudal domains, abolished at the Meiji Restoration)
Mada mada: it’s not over yet!
Engawa: the little veranda that extends Japanese rooms into the outdoors.