Demon of the Mountain: Part 1: The Lights of Kyoto By: Shutani Houkiku Harada Sanosuke Himura Kenshin Gaudy colours, fancy lanterns, light-headed laughter, signiture characteristics of the Yoshiwara. The giggling sets my nerves on the edge and hair on its ends, but it was better this way. No danger, no massacre. Here, for a little while, I am safe. Safe from what? You ask. You'd laugh to even venture the thought that a girl not hideously deformed was "safe" in the Pleasure Quarters of the Capital, but it's true. Here, amidst the flirtateous gaity of my peers and their patrons there is no reason to fear for one's life. The Brothel protects us from the silent city of cutting winds and freshly bloodied screens not a stone's throw away from the walls. Usually, I would not step into such a place. So corrupted, so polluted is the atmosphere... every youth dreamed of the City. The grand Capital. I, on the other hand, would gladly trade the bright lights, and gay colours for that clear night sky and a breath of sharp, clean mountain air. "Houkiku-san," I turn from the window and my thoughts with great reluctance. "Entriced by the lights still?" A light laugh. "Oh what a Mountain girl you truly are! But come, Suzuki-sama is coming, please help me prepare." Mountain girl am I? Perhaps so. But happily so. I slip off my window seat and help brush Hime-san's hair. Some say the courteseans have it easy, but they do not see. Already Hime-san's slick hair is splitting and her face gone pale without the help of the white cosmetic paste from the stress of competition. Osen in the Brothel across the street. Shiga's Osen, the pearl, the gem of Yoshiwara. After Suzuki-san comes, I shall be free to wander unless someone takes me to their fancy. Hopefully not. It is not that I am unattractive or do not enjoy any number of the erotic pleasures these walls hold, but rather I would have liked to be alone. I need time. Time to plan the morrow. Midnight tomorrow. The mere thought brings a thrill down my spine, a greater pleasure than any I have experienced. Sanchuu-jikan... ... * * * I entered Kyoto knowing that I might not leave. The whole spirit of the place hit me at once, and sort of left me dazed. Even during this cruel time of the Bakumatsu, where murder and pillaging were common-place, Kyoto was still quite lively. I was actually surprised, I heard Kyoto was the bloodiest battle field of the Bakumatsu. I realized this was true when I saw the countless bodies lieing along the streets, and the blood stained walls of many houses. Why was it so lively then? Hirotaka, Yuuji, and Shuuichi, the Shinsen Gumi cadets that accompanied me for this mission, all seemed to be very happy we took this entrance into Kyoto. I asked them why and they all said in unison "WE'RE IN YOSHIWARA!"... I didn't know it then but we had walked into whore heaven. "Ok guys, you know why we're here..." I said to the three cadets. My normal squad was sent with Shioh Okita to assasinate some big time Ishin bastard, and I got stuck with these children who can't even hold their swords right. "We are here to locate the Ishins best Hitokiri, Himura Battousai. We've recieved orders to get rid of him from the Bakufu government, it seems that without him the Ishin would be totally helpless." They didn't hear me though, they were too busy making themselves look pretty. "What the hell are you all doing!!?" They all jumped as if a bolt of lightning had struck them. Yuuji explained, "Boss its kind of late isn't it better if we just leave this till tomorrow? I mean we ARE in Yoshiwara, I think we should have some fun tonight. I hear the best hookers in Japan are right here..." I stared at him and he seemed to shrink down like a dog, and then I looked at the other two, they were trembling. "Just go," I scowled at all of them... They seemed to disappear before I finished talking, they were afraid of me. Heh these guys are gonna be the ones fighting for us in the future, some future. I hope I live on long enough to keep fighting and not rely on weaklings like them. "Tch..." I mumbled to myself. I walked through Yoshiwara not caring about the half dressed women shouting outside the windows for customers. I grew up in a valley village, this city was so foreign and different from what I was used to. Everything about the city, the sights, the smells were all strange and made me cringe. Instinctively, I was holding one of my swords, I didn't even notice that. I always do that when I enter somewhere strange. I was heading through Yoshiwara to some hotel in the middle of the city, it was a hotel the Shinsen Gumi took over for there own use. I took a shortcut through an alley to avoid a busy street, all the while keeping my eyes open for that red-haired man. What would happen if I found him? Would he want to fight? And if so would I win? A thousand uncertainties were flowing through my head, which was probably why I nearly tripped over some corpse sprawled along the street. I looked down and to my horror it was a child, just a defenseless child. No Shinsen Gumi member would sink this low, and this made me wonder if all this fighting would bring us the happiness everyone is longing for. I knelt down and said a prayer for her, and then I walked on. That's how life is these days though. At the end of the alley there was a brothel, I didn't think much of it. Except there was a familiar smell associated with that dilipidated building. It reminded me of flower petals from a certain kind of flower found along mountains. I knew someone who wore this fragrance... Shutani Houkiku... How long has it been since I uttered that name? Nearly a year now... I continued on to the hotel undaunted, but with a certain reluctance in my step, I wanted to know if she was here. "That could wait." I thought... First I have to find that man. * * * The Sake warms me as I let it slip down my throat. The smell of tobaco hangs in the room mixed with oppium. I gaze around me, I know no one here, it is a room full of strangers. But I like it that way. Here, I am no better than the others who are here to lose themselves in booze or women. My deeds, or my reputation, had little meaning here. That was a heavy mantle that I left behind, if only for an evening. Battosai, the ring of my title doesn't sound quite as melodious to me as it once did. I'll be glad when the fighting finally ends, no matter what happens. Once, the future gave me a reason to fight, and I reveled in it. Now, though I'm surprised to hear myself say it, but I feel a little old. All of this fighting, the dozens that have fallen to my sword, it all makes me weary to think about it now. I have another long drink before I pay the bartender and take my leave. Kyoto is unusually chilly tonight, though the sake helps me to ignore it some. I make my way into the crowds. I make my way quickly back toward the hotel, my eyes dart back and forth warrily, to the crowds moving through the streets, and to the whores and beggars lining each side. Yoshiwara may not be much, but it's the closest I've had to a home in a while. Though I'd be slow to admit that to anyone, I find this place cold and distasteful, but I welcome any reprive from the fighting, no mater how short it may turn out to be. * * * The three, woman and two men, brushed by each other in the great crowd, never realising how close they were to hastening an inevitable, unsavoured meeting. Few paid attention to the figure slipping through, small in the shadow of the men milling about outside the guarded gates. The old guard did, though, and smiled kindly at the girl barely on the verge of womanhood. Of those that entered those gates to offer their services, no few did so for want of a better living. It was no shameful living for it was neither theft nor trickery. In fact, there was a certain degree of respect for such a profession catering to the weaknesses of the human flesh. Of course, he was being old fashioned. These days, with the westerners bringing in their fancy ideas and all-mighty attitudes, a great many things have been wronged; not the least among them the views of human weakness. What did those barbarians think they are? Nobody could be perfect. Only as good as one may be. He watched the young woman, so much like his own granddaughter had she survived the great illness that took her and her parents, disappear into town. * * * From the brothel I stepped into a busy street. So many people, I wondered which would still be alive at the end of this war. I noticed how I've only been able to think about fighting and killing since this way started. I needed an escape, someone to give me a hug and tell me it's going to be okay. "Shutani, where the hell are you?" I said aloud, I recieved a couple of glares from the crowd, but when they noticed my weapons they looked away. I wondered why I was thinking of her so much recently, is this a sign? Will we cross paths soon? Only time will tell. It was when I pictured Shutani in my mind that I saw him, that red hair, wearing an Ishin outfit. Him. The Edo dog, Himura Battousai. I smiled to myself, knowing that tonight's going to be one for the history books. As I walked past him I noticed he smelt of sake, that made me curse myself for not bringing any along. I turned around and began to follow him. I wondered if he noticed me. I believe he did, otherwise he would not have walked into an alley that led to a dead end. I followed him to the end where he turned around and drew his sword. The image of those eyes, that seemed to be tormented by the souls of everyone that has tasted his sword, reminded me of myself. I smiled and drew my Murasame from the metal sheath. "Battousai, I, Harada Sanosuke, have been sent by the Shinsen Gumi to defeat you. If you die, the Ishin will surely lose. Such a burden must surely be floating around inside you. If you die, the Bakufu will retain Japan's traditions, and the Shinsen Gumi will be victorious. I take it upon myself to make the latter come true, and I will have your head as proof of that!" At that point my eyes tinted red, and I clenched my sword tightly. "THIS FIGHT WILL DETERMINE THE FUTURE!" Perhaps I was being too dramatic, but that didn't matter, all I wanted was that man, dead at my feet. I had him cornered, I would finally get to see his famed Battou Jutsu in action. Then I remembered, we were still in Yoshiwara. A member of the Shinsen Gumi such as myself would not be in right mind to start a fight in this area. I put my sword back into its iron seiya and gritted my teeth. "Next time..." I muttered, in a scornful way. * * * Out on the streets I buy a single russet chrysenthmum from a flower girl. Four coins I dropped into her palm, two for the flower, one for her trouble and the other, a token for those who would petition the Ancient Mountain Lord. -Shi-, four, or death. An unmeant word-play that brings a bitter twitch to a corner of my lips. I hesistate to associate with 'smile', this tense movement of facial muscles does shame to the word. If the child suspects anything, she is too wise to confront it. Of course she knows the business with the tarnished copper disc engraved with the character for 'punishment' on one side and 'storm' on the other. It is she who slips it into the bouqets such-and-so-sama send to Toga-sama's Hime-dono via the courtesean's lower classed collegue. Hime-dono never knows who sends the offerings and cares none, as proper of one of her reputation. What matters was that the token reached the gift-bearer. Each dusk after the mountain has judged and decided, the token returns to the street corner, in the obi of the flower girl. The day after you will learn of her answer and at midnight, the Arashi-Yasha, Storm Demon, claims her due. Two hundred and forty silver ryu, no more, no less. Hell hath no fury like a woman wronged. If you value your heart, you'd do well to pay her in full. When I return I drop the rusted blossom into a vase by my sill, the only possesion I have claimed besides my gold in Flowery Kyoto. It will not last long once cut from its stem, but I am certain that before she wilts, another will take her place. Gossip of the beginnings of a fight buzzed in idle rooms like mayflies. Whatever. Tomorrow I shall give you all something to talk about. Something rich. Something exciting. Something bloody. For the Mountain Moon lights the morrow's night; and all with the ears can hear metal and blood cry "yasha, yasha". * * * I left the red haired Hitokiri and assimilated myself back into the crowd, my destination was still the Shinsen Gumi owned hotel that lay in the shadows of Edo castle. The crowd was getting slower and slower as I went down the street, so I decided to take a quicker route. I spotted a building that had formed a corner with a wall, using this I jumped up to the roof of it and proceeded to hop roof to roof to my destination. A couple of houses down a discordant shadow slipped through the alleys and hiked over a wall. It was one that I knew well in the moonlight, a mercenary hitokiri we hunted as well as the Ishin, only more elusive. She hopped along a few roofs, then dropped to ground level again. This was a good chance to corner her, although I have no true grudge against one such as her. Was it luck? All she killed had in one way or another deserved death. I like to think that she chose her victims, it would tie in with her alias, Arashi-Yasha, Yasha, the do-gooders of mountain lore who punished evil and protected their territory. A legend this woman brought to life. She disappeared into the darkness of the night while I was pondering her origins, she's always seemed oddly familiar. How long I stood there I don't remember, but it was long enough for four Ishin samurai to notice me. I sighed and drew both Murasame , even though I didn't like to kill so unjustly, I was given orders to end the lives of any Ishin that crossed my path. They encircled me, each with sword in hand, all were trembling. I grinned, that made them even more scared. "Cowards..." I said calmly... "Need not know my name, only the name of my katana. Murasame..." It was so convenient that they surrounded me, I spun clockwise with a god-like force with my Murasame held parelel to each other horizontally. They didn't even have a chance to react. All four were subject to decapitation and torn bellies. I lept out of the center and admired my work of art. I left a lotus flower where I stood, and thought to myself noone would be able to appreciate this artwork. I proceeded to the hotel, and entered with blood dripping from my chin, and my top half soaked in blood. My hands had blood inside my fingernails, those guys were gushers alright. One of my cadets approached me, the braver of all of them and asked "Busy night sir?" "Not really..." I said while I polished the stains from my Murasame. * * * [End Part 1/Lights of Kyoto]