Now why didn't I ever finish this?
This was a sort of Rurouni Kenshin/Peacemaker Kurogane story. I started it over a year ago and never got past this. One of my main problems is that I get leery when introducing new characters to a story. I am really paranoid about 'Mary Sue-itis'. The character of 'Shinju' has gone through many changes and will probably go through many more. We'll see.
Untitled RK/PMK Story
Kuril Islands, Sea of Okhotsk
(In between Russia and Hokkaido)
1879
The man, shrouded in heavy clothes and shadow, sat at the back of the ramshackle hut masquerading as a bar, a neglected roughly hewn mug with something vaguely alcoholic and warm sitting in front of him. He wasn’t there to drink or to socialize, he was there for information. He was lucky that he had been born tall and broad shouldered. As long as he didn’t call attention to the fact that his Russian language skills were limited to drink orders and questions about bathrooms, he didn’t particularly stand out. Certainly none of the drunken Russians and Ainus would think he was Japanese. And certainly none of them knew or cared that, in a former life, he had been a fierce warrior. Harada Sanosuke, captain of the 10th unit of the Shinsengumi, a wolf of Mibu. Now retired, and, as far as his countrymen were concerned, dead.
Damn Shinpachi for sending him to this hell hole, anyway. Why did the little bastard care enough about the useless Meiji government to force Sano out of his very pleasant retirement in Manchuria so that he could spy on people?
“You’re the only one who can do, it Sano. You’re the only one who can slip in and out of places undetected, after all, everyone thinks you’re dead.” Sano mimicked Shinpachi’s voice, although the actual man sounded slightly less high-pitched and whiny. ‘Asshole.’ Sano thought, scowling down at the table. And where the hell was the guy he was supposed to be spying on?
Luckily for everyone, the man came breezing into the place a moment later. Unlike Sano, who blended in with the bar’s rough crowd, this man made no effort to appear as anything less than what he was: an upper-class Japanese man with an elevated sense of self. He looked down his nose at the people and would have found himself the target of a vicious lynching if a group of men hadn’t risen from their seats near Sano to lay claim to him.
“Couldn’t you be a little less conspicuous?” One of the men, a tall Russian with an abundance of facial hair hissed in heavily accented Japanese.
The Japanese man sniffed in disdain. “Who would these cretins talk to? Can they even communicate with more than grunts?”
“Sit down and shut up.” The Russian spat, pushing the man into a chair unceremoniously.
The Japanese man sputtered with outrage, but was soon silenced by another in the group, a man more formidable than the rest. His clothing marked him to be a member of the peasant class, but his bearing and speech betrayed his military background and education. Sano had no doubt that he was the Russian General Shinpachi had warned him about.
“Now, now, let’s not be rude, Nikolas, Vice-Minister Ebisawa is our guest.” The General motioned for Ebisawa to sit. “He’s traveled a long way to talk with us.”
The man, Nikolas, sneered but obeyed his commander, taking his seat without another word.
The General produced a sealed document and handed it to Ebisawa. “As per our agreement with your leader, I have written out the details of our plan. Please allow me to apologize in advance, my skill at writing in kanji is negligible. Hopefully I have managed to convey what the Czar and the military are hoping to accomplish.”
Ebisawa took the document and cracked the seal, his eyes scanning the carefully rendered symbols. “You are too modest, General Gontsov. Both your written and spoken Japanese are exquisite.”
“And what of the plan?” Gontsov asked, leaning forward slightly as he did so.
“It appears to be in order. Our emperor is not a concern, he’ll do whatever we ministers tell him, and right now, we are inclined to ally with Russia.” Ebisawa replied, smug.
“Excellent. With Japan on our side, we should have no problem dealing with the Chinese or their Korean lapdogs.” Gontsov smiled, revealing large perfectly straight white teeth.
“There are a few people in the government who are disinclined to ally with either side, or are outright against allying with Russia, but you have my word that by the end of the year, these men will no longer be a concern.” Ebisawa folded the letter up and placed it in his traveling valise. “I personally will deliver this letter to the Foreign Minister and together we will set things in motion.”
Sano frowned and downed his mug of tepid liquor in one swig. So certain members of the government were conspiring to ally with the Russians against the Chinese? While he lacked the intellectual prowess of Hijikata or Itou when it came to such matters, even Sano knew that Japan was being used. China would crush them and then be crushed by the Russians, paving the way for the total domination of East Asia by the Russians. No wonder Shinpachi was concerned. It was too soon, Japan was still too raw from the upheavals of the war. He probably didn’t care much for Meiji, but none of them could stand by and watch their beloved country be torn apart again.
Without waiting for the others to finish their meeting, Sano stood and abruptly left the bar. He had to get back to Shinpachi and tell him what he heard. Then maybe the two of them and that crazy bitch Shinpachi had picked up somewhere could figure out just what the hell they were supposed to do now.
****
“Shinju, I need a little of your moxa magic.” Nagakura Shinpachi rolled his shoulders and directed large, beseeching eyes at the woman reading a book out on the terrace of the small house. “My back is killing me.”
“Maybe you should spend less time hunched over that desk, scribbling your nonsense.” She replied tartly, not looking up from her book.
“It’s not nonsense!” Shinpachi growled irritably. “It’s the history of the Shinsengumi. No one should forget who we were or what we did.”
“’Pachi, darling, history is written by the winners. Do I have to remind you yet again that you were on the losing side?” She flipped a page and pursed her lips, clearly not happy with either the conversation or what she was reading.
“We are not having this conversation again, Shinju. All I want is for you to do a little acupuncture on my back without being obnoxious. Is that too much to ask?” He wheedled.
She finally looked up at him and frowned. “I have a headache.”
He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t asking for sex, Shinju.”
“I’d rather do that. It requires less effort on my part and takes less time.” She shot back.
He scowled. “It does NOT take less time, and furthermore, you rarely have to do anything because I’m so good at it.”
She snorted and snapped her book shut. “You’re delusional. But if it will shut you up, fine, I’ll go get my things. Take off your kimono and lay on your stomach.”
Untitled RK/PMK Story
Kuril Islands, Sea of Okhotsk
(In between Russia and Hokkaido)
1879
The man, shrouded in heavy clothes and shadow, sat at the back of the ramshackle hut masquerading as a bar, a neglected roughly hewn mug with something vaguely alcoholic and warm sitting in front of him. He wasn’t there to drink or to socialize, he was there for information. He was lucky that he had been born tall and broad shouldered. As long as he didn’t call attention to the fact that his Russian language skills were limited to drink orders and questions about bathrooms, he didn’t particularly stand out. Certainly none of the drunken Russians and Ainus would think he was Japanese. And certainly none of them knew or cared that, in a former life, he had been a fierce warrior. Harada Sanosuke, captain of the 10th unit of the Shinsengumi, a wolf of Mibu. Now retired, and, as far as his countrymen were concerned, dead.
Damn Shinpachi for sending him to this hell hole, anyway. Why did the little bastard care enough about the useless Meiji government to force Sano out of his very pleasant retirement in Manchuria so that he could spy on people?
“You’re the only one who can do, it Sano. You’re the only one who can slip in and out of places undetected, after all, everyone thinks you’re dead.” Sano mimicked Shinpachi’s voice, although the actual man sounded slightly less high-pitched and whiny. ‘Asshole.’ Sano thought, scowling down at the table. And where the hell was the guy he was supposed to be spying on?
Luckily for everyone, the man came breezing into the place a moment later. Unlike Sano, who blended in with the bar’s rough crowd, this man made no effort to appear as anything less than what he was: an upper-class Japanese man with an elevated sense of self. He looked down his nose at the people and would have found himself the target of a vicious lynching if a group of men hadn’t risen from their seats near Sano to lay claim to him.
“Couldn’t you be a little less conspicuous?” One of the men, a tall Russian with an abundance of facial hair hissed in heavily accented Japanese.
The Japanese man sniffed in disdain. “Who would these cretins talk to? Can they even communicate with more than grunts?”
“Sit down and shut up.” The Russian spat, pushing the man into a chair unceremoniously.
The Japanese man sputtered with outrage, but was soon silenced by another in the group, a man more formidable than the rest. His clothing marked him to be a member of the peasant class, but his bearing and speech betrayed his military background and education. Sano had no doubt that he was the Russian General Shinpachi had warned him about.
“Now, now, let’s not be rude, Nikolas, Vice-Minister Ebisawa is our guest.” The General motioned for Ebisawa to sit. “He’s traveled a long way to talk with us.”
The man, Nikolas, sneered but obeyed his commander, taking his seat without another word.
The General produced a sealed document and handed it to Ebisawa. “As per our agreement with your leader, I have written out the details of our plan. Please allow me to apologize in advance, my skill at writing in kanji is negligible. Hopefully I have managed to convey what the Czar and the military are hoping to accomplish.”
Ebisawa took the document and cracked the seal, his eyes scanning the carefully rendered symbols. “You are too modest, General Gontsov. Both your written and spoken Japanese are exquisite.”
“And what of the plan?” Gontsov asked, leaning forward slightly as he did so.
“It appears to be in order. Our emperor is not a concern, he’ll do whatever we ministers tell him, and right now, we are inclined to ally with Russia.” Ebisawa replied, smug.
“Excellent. With Japan on our side, we should have no problem dealing with the Chinese or their Korean lapdogs.” Gontsov smiled, revealing large perfectly straight white teeth.
“There are a few people in the government who are disinclined to ally with either side, or are outright against allying with Russia, but you have my word that by the end of the year, these men will no longer be a concern.” Ebisawa folded the letter up and placed it in his traveling valise. “I personally will deliver this letter to the Foreign Minister and together we will set things in motion.”
Sano frowned and downed his mug of tepid liquor in one swig. So certain members of the government were conspiring to ally with the Russians against the Chinese? While he lacked the intellectual prowess of Hijikata or Itou when it came to such matters, even Sano knew that Japan was being used. China would crush them and then be crushed by the Russians, paving the way for the total domination of East Asia by the Russians. No wonder Shinpachi was concerned. It was too soon, Japan was still too raw from the upheavals of the war. He probably didn’t care much for Meiji, but none of them could stand by and watch their beloved country be torn apart again.
Without waiting for the others to finish their meeting, Sano stood and abruptly left the bar. He had to get back to Shinpachi and tell him what he heard. Then maybe the two of them and that crazy bitch Shinpachi had picked up somewhere could figure out just what the hell they were supposed to do now.
****
“Shinju, I need a little of your moxa magic.” Nagakura Shinpachi rolled his shoulders and directed large, beseeching eyes at the woman reading a book out on the terrace of the small house. “My back is killing me.”
“Maybe you should spend less time hunched over that desk, scribbling your nonsense.” She replied tartly, not looking up from her book.
“It’s not nonsense!” Shinpachi growled irritably. “It’s the history of the Shinsengumi. No one should forget who we were or what we did.”
“’Pachi, darling, history is written by the winners. Do I have to remind you yet again that you were on the losing side?” She flipped a page and pursed her lips, clearly not happy with either the conversation or what she was reading.
“We are not having this conversation again, Shinju. All I want is for you to do a little acupuncture on my back without being obnoxious. Is that too much to ask?” He wheedled.
She finally looked up at him and frowned. “I have a headache.”
He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t asking for sex, Shinju.”
“I’d rather do that. It requires less effort on my part and takes less time.” She shot back.
He scowled. “It does NOT take less time, and furthermore, you rarely have to do anything because I’m so good at it.”
She snorted and snapped her book shut. “You’re delusional. But if it will shut you up, fine, I’ll go get my things. Take off your kimono and lay on your stomach.”