AU Series: Equilibrium - Chapter Twelve & Epilogue
Aiba dreamt of fingers gentle on his skin, perfumed with ginger and mint, carefully brushing hair away from his face. The cool breath of fall was coming; he nestled closer to the warm body beneath the blankets, lacing ankles and fingers together. The flavor left on his tongue was sweet. Whispered sighs in his ears tangled with the wind rustling the maple trees in the southern garden. He stirred and the young samurai was looking upon him with a soft expression, disarmed and at peace, with his hair curling gently around his ears.
Aiba dreamed they were lying side by side in one futon; he mapped the contours of Sho's hands with his own like he didn't already know them while the other's gaze was like a caress on his cheek. A flutter of movement outside the shoji doors caught Sho's attention, his eyes following the intricate dance of something drifting.
Look, he murmured, nudging Aiba gently with a hand on his waist. Aiba turned in his arms to see the maple outside his room shimmering, bright with sanguine, titian and amber. They're falling.
It started with one leaf and then two; caught on something neither man could see, chasing each other on the breeze. Three, four, six, a dozen more filled the air, eight dozen, a hundred and two creating a thin golden haze. The leaves landed on the weathered boards of the veranda and echoed in the quiet room, one by one, reverberating deep through the wood and paper, hammering out a rhythm that Aiba had never heard before.
They struck the veranda constantly, heavy and hollow-much too loud for mere dying leaves. The timbre was anxious and erratic; his heart tried to match it but it couldn’t keep up. This wasn’t right.
“Wake up, Masaki.” Sho’s voice had the same edge as the leaves, worried and afraid-but of what? It was the way of things for leaves to die and paint the gardens with their fading colours when summer’s end came.
“Masaki, please wake up,” Sho pleaded, as he shook Aiba to waking. “Something’s happened.”
The room was dark, the sun set and the last tendrils of roseate and orchid bled into the horizon hours ago. The maple outside the window was still green and lush, the garden swept clean; but the still drumming continued.
“What’s going on,” Aiba muttered, still caught in the threads of his dream.
“They’re opening the gates,” Sho replied. “Something is wrong.”
The unsteady beat of the taiko drum rang through the castle from the turrets as the Black Gate was opened again. It wasn’t supposed to be reopened until sunrise. Voices carried across the grounds, clear through the drum beat when it faltered, shouting; but Aiba couldn’t make out the words. The sounds of bare feet thudding on the floors underscored everything as people were sent to relay messages to the inhabitants of Iwatsuki castle.
Nagase had been assassinated.
It had been Nagase's turn to lead the patrol, circling the town and farmlands, watching the hilly horizon for incoming messengers or threats. No one had expected the attackers to come from the village at the bottom of the valley, the only other civilization visible from the tower of Iwatsuki’s keep. It was a farming hamlet smaller than Iwatsuki, which shared the same fishing spots on the river. Many of its people were friends and relatives; it too was under the care of Kimura’s sword. No one had expected an attack to be so close and so familiar.
Nagase, Yamaguchi and six of the soldiers stationed at the castle were out amongst the rice paddies that climbed the gentle slopes of the valley. The sun was low on the horizon, drowsy and tired, when they reached the last field. While Nagase was discussing the potential yield of the crops for next season with the farmer, Yamaguchi was inside greeting his kind wife. She had taken to packing some fresh steamed bread for the ride back to the castle with a pinch of his cheek because they all looked so thin. It was the least she could offer, after all their hard work to protect the village, she’d said. He was sat at their warm hearth with a cup of barley tea, cool under his fingers, when the first arrows sailed silently through the air. He only heard the surprised and anguished shouts of the husband, and the clatter of armor and weaponry falling heavily onto the hard packed earth.
The soldiers too fell where arrows pierced their bodies; bright speckled fletching wavering lightly in the gentle afternoon breeze where the arrows stood proudly from their targets. The attack was invisible and inaudible, like the plague that crept upon elders and claimed their lives before daybreak. No soldier had seen them coming and no one could react fast enough to save his comrades before he was killed too. When Yamaguchi reached Nagase, his commander’s eyes were dull and unseeing and his body crumpled on the ground like soiled bedclothes where he had fallen from the saddle. The horse was gone, bolted at the smell of blood and death and the pitch of her rider’s body. Hoof tracks tore up the otherwise neat path between the paddies.
Yamaguchi had sent the farmer inside to his wife and scanned the bordering forest futilely. He knew the danger had already passed; he stood alone, an easy target in the empty fields, and no arrows cut across the sky to lodge themselves deep into his back.
The assassins were gone.
He gathered Nagase’s body in his arms and strapped him across the back of his horse, in front of the saddle, before mounting. He passed the other fallen soldiers as he flicked the reigns but lacked the snap to spur the horse into a slow gallop. He couldn’t carry three, four, five bodies on his only steed; he would have to send someone back for them. The chain of command had fallen to him and he had no idea what to do. His officer, his friend, nearly a brother, was still warm against his legs and the flanks of the horse. Blood continued to pour from the wounds, running down the legs of the animal, dripping from fingertips as Yamaguchi returned to the castle.
He rode through the gates during the second watch with the body limply hanging across the shoulders of his horse, the armor unmistakably Nagase’s, even in the pale moonlight. His face was dark, his eyes guarded. He slid his commander off the steed with reverence only matched by the high priests when they handled sacred treasures. His knees buckled under the weight, collapsing on the dusty ground of the outer courtyard, and he clutched the ties on the front of Nagase’s armor loosely.
There was no wake and no funeral for the fallen on Yamaguchi’s orders; public mourning of the daimyo’s first-in-command would be an open invitation for raiders to attack. The bodies were transported to the secluded temple on the banks of the river and rites were performed by the small number of priests there. The ashes were sealed in simple porcelain urns with a painted lotus flower on the lid and sent to the families with letters of condolence. Their names were written on unadorned pine planks in thick ink by the priests, to be housed in the castle’s altar with the ancestors of the daimyo.
Sho found Aiba in the library, his brow creased in concentration and his fingers smudged with ink, recording the eulogy Yamaguchi had written for his friend-not his commanding officer or superior in rank, but the crass man with a gentle soul he had known for years. Nagase had been a member of Kimura's service the longest of all and deserved to be revered in Iwatsuki’s records.
Pulling a cushion from the closet, Sho sat on the other side of the low table and watched Aiba fill the last page with delicate writing. He pressed his seal firmly down on the corner of the page, marking it with cinnabar ink, and set it aside before raising his eyes to Sho's. Sho took a deep breath and paused to notice the way Aiba's hair turned a rich cocoa in such light and the way it fell against his cheekbones.
“Have you offered your prayers get?”
Aiba shook his head, “Not yet.”
Aiba watched Sho purse his lips, looking in the corners of the room and out the window to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Sho-san?" He had never seen Sho so anxious before.
“Yamaguchi-san called a meeting this morning. We’ve received messages from the closest castle towns and none have the resources to send any men to our aid. We can only rely on the strength we have left. You know as well as I that it’s only a matter of time.” Before Iwatsuki falls too.
“What are we going to do now?” Aiba asked, failing to keep slight panic from edging his lilt.
“He said if we want to leave, he won't stop anyone. If we want to return to our families, we are free to go. He will stay with anyone else who is willing. Ohno is leaving. I knew he would go whether we were relieved of duty or not, if he had the chance. His heart isn’t in it.”
“And Nino will go with him,” Aiba added with a watery smile.
“You know him well.”
Aiba just nodded. He was silent for a long moment, staring at the swirls of the wood grain on the tabletop before adding hesitantly, “And what will you do, Sho-san?”
“I want to make sure that my mother and brother are safe. And my sister... and niece or nephew. I want to make sure everyone I care about is safe.”
The thought of Sho leaving to never come back made Aiba's heart thunder in his chest.
“And I want you to come with me,” Sho finished.
Aiba couldn’t take another breath-he shifted anxiously in his seat, knocking his elbow on the table and causing his brush to roll across the surface. “Oh, how I want to…”
In the few weeks since the raid on the village, Aiba had become attuned to the samurai, feeling his eyes like touches on his skin all the time. Aiba found it harder to sleep alone after each night together; he wanted to ask Nino if this was how he felt about Ohno. Jun was also ever-present, watching with one eye while he tried to keep the castle from falling apart. Aiba could see it was wearing him thin. When there was no more work to be done, he sought Aiba for company, even if they sat in silence and watched the leaves twist in the breeze.
“But I can’t. If I leave too, Jun will be alone. He’s barely handling this by himself. You want to keep your family safe and I should do the same for mine. I’m part of his house and it’s my duty to stay.”
“And what about Nino? Why doesn’t Nino stay?”
Aiba opened his mouth in reply but had nothing to say. He knew how much Ohno had gotten under Nino's skin-he and Jun had been the ones who gave him the final push. They never talked about it but they knew from experience that no samurai stayed at the castle forever. He might be sent away on some task for Kimura or conscripted by the Imperial guard in Kyoto; the risk of being killed in battle was frighteningly high. Aiba had seen Nino's expression darken more often over the last few weeks and Aiba knew the content of his thoughts because they were the same as his own.
“A surprisingly wise man once said something to me,” Sho began quietly, moving to the other side of the table, like the first time they met in the library. “He said that regardless of blood or choice, family is family; that's a bond that will take a lot more than distance to break. But someone you love-more than that, one who loves you, who chose you... he'd want to protect you with his entire being. He would do anything to keep you safe. He would gladly be without title or obligation to be happy.”
Aiba's throat burned as he fought against the urge to cry. That's all he wanted for everyone: to be happy. Chasing fireflies in the gardens and hiding mice in the maids’ quarters with Nino and Jun. Seeing Ohno watch Nino play the shamisen on their veranda. Dirtying his fingers as Sho leaned close and taught him the stroke order to a new character.
“I'm asking you,” Sho continued, “to come with me. I promised myself that I would do everything I can to keep you from getting hurt again but I can't do that here. There is nothing anyone can do. I know how important they are to you. Jun and Nino will always be your family, wherever you are. That isn't going to change.”
Aiba was startled as Sho swept away the tears that had escaped, not expecting the touch on his face. Sho's fingers were gentle and restrained, wanting to tuck Aiba's hair behind his ears but refraining.
“I want you to be with me but I won't force you to come.”
Sho did not go to Aiba's room that night or the next. He had left Aiba in the library with a lingering kiss on the brow and a head muddled with thoughts. Aiba's heart hurt thinking about having to choose between love and loyalty. He was indebted to Jun's father for taking him from the life his parents led. How could he repay that kindness by leaving? And what would he do outside the castle? He had no skills; he had neither craft nor trade. Only the richest households in the capital had need for servants and maids.
There was a soft knock at the door before it slid open. He didn't need a candle to see the slight stature of his friend to know that it was Nino.
"It's late; shouldn't you be sleeping, Kazu?"
"I should say the same to you, Masaki," Nino replied with no bite to his words.
Aiba sat up and pulled the blankets into his lap. Nino left the door ajar and joined Aiba on the end of his futon.
"I've come to say good-bye," Nino said, frank as always. "We're leaving tonight."
"I didn't think you would."
"If you start weeping then I'll leave without.” Nino’s tone was mostly joking.
"I'll try,” Aiba promised. “Where do you think you’ll go?"
"South. Satoshi thinks we should let things settle a little before we decide where to go. We're going to see my parents. Can you believe, of all things, I'm most scared of seeing them again?"
Aiba chuckled quietly in the dark, "They'll be happy to see you."
"I wonder if they will remember what a brat I was."
"You still are," Aiba corrected.
Nino shoved his shoulder in retort but it lacked the malice it might have had any other time. “Still am.”
Aiba knew he was pretending it didn’t hurt to leave. “What are you going to do out there? For money?”
“Nagase always said I was a decent musician, maybe I would play for coin. Satoshi could sing.”
“If you’re really good, maybe they’ll summon you to the Imperial court to play for the Emperor.”
Nino chuckled at the thought. “I wish for your happiness, Masaki. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you; there were so many times I wished I could have given it to you myself or even shared mine. But that isn’t fair.”
“You did make me happy, you and Jun. I have no regrets.”
“You might. It’s different… when I’m with Satoshi. It’s so hard to put into words. But I am so scared of losing that feeling and never finding it again.” Nino picked at the threads of his blanket, turning his face from the light to hide the look on his face, a moment of silence filling the space between them.
“Tell Ohno good-bye for me. And take good care of him.”
"I won't forget you, okay?" Nino said after a beat, reaching out to give Aiba's hand a tight squeeze. "Try and stay in one piece. Write to me once in a while."
"I will," Aiba replied to nothing in particular, his voice wavering.
"I told you not to cry!" Nino scolded, pulling Aiba into a hug.
Aiba took a few deep breaths before saying, "I'm going to miss you."
"I know. Me too."
They fell silent, clinging to each other for the last time. Aiba inhaled the scent of Nino’s hair and memorized the way his petite frame felt in his arms, thinking how much they had grown up. It felt like not so long ago that they had been six and seven and Nino was showing him where the best places to find beetles were and how to avoid whippings from their tutor. There was still so much Nino had to teach him. Nino’s small hands were fisted in his shirt, wrinkling the light fabric with the strength of their grasp.
They were still embracing when Ohno came to the door. Aiba saw him in the hall, outside the room he’d shared with Nino for seventeen years, looking awkward like he had walked in on an extremely private moment. "Kazu, we should go before the watch changes."
"Okay, I'll be there in a moment." Nino tightened his arms and whispered into Aiba’s ear, "I will see you again."
Then Ohno was gone; and Nino with him.
Aiba fell into a light doze after Nino and Ohno’s departure, his heart exhausted from aching. The whisper of the door sliding closed woke him. He heard the crunch of worn tatami under feet and the rustle of his sheets being sat upon. It wasn’t Sho because Sho would have crawled under the blankets and fitted his body around Aiba’s and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. There was only one other person who would come into his room in the middle of the night.
“Would you be happy here without Sakurai-san?”
Aiba stared at the woodwork of the ceiling and sighed. He had been asking himself the same question all night. “I would learn to be.”
“And what if you didn’t?” Aiba answered with silence. Jun nudged him with a foot to move over and stretched out beside him. “Do you know why it was so easy for Nino to leave?”
“I didn’t ask him because I’m afraid of the answer.”
“It’s not because he didn’t love you or me or because he didn’t feel at home. He was younger than you were when you came here; he doesn’t remember what his life before this was like. This is his home. It was so easy for him to leave because he knows that this is all… temporary. You see it; the walls are crumbling around us. Kimura-sama is gone and there’ll be nothing for him to come back to. What’s solid one day could easily be gone the next.
“He knows there is something more real than this out there. Something he can get through his own hard work and hold on to with his two hands. Ohno-san was just the catalyst, the vehicle for him to leave. It would have happened sooner or later.
“Let me ask you one thing,” Jun said, turning on his side to look at Aiba’s face. “If there was no hierarchy, no bushido, nothing tying you to Iwatsuki castle, would you be so reluctant to leave?”
“If I was completely free to choose…” Aiba took a deep breath and held it. “But you-”
“Don’t think about me. You have the choice to go and be with someone who loves you, to be free and happy. To do whatever you want! I don’t have that luxury. Even if I did choose to throw away all the teaching my father shoved down my throat, I don’t have anywhere I want to go or anyone I want to be with. There’s no place better for me right now than here but maybe one day, I’ll find it.” Aiba waited as Jun paused to breathe, sure he wasn’t quite finished.
“Do you want to go with him?”
Aiba shut his eyes tight and his answer came out in a hushed breath: “Yes.”
Jun sat up and reached for something on the sideboard beside the candle. He pulled a large book into his lap, bound in leather with a pine crest on the front.
“You think you’re doing me a favour by staying, like you owe the Matsumoto name something. You don’t. I’ll be fine without you and Nino and if we survive this, you’ll always be welcome to visit.”
“What are you saying?” Aiba was confused; Jun was talking like he’d already left.
“Do you know what this is?” Jun continued.
“No.”
“It’s the Matsumoto family registry. Everyone who has ever been born or adopted into the name is recorded in here.” Jun opened the cover and flipped through the pages, the words blurring in the candlelight. He found the latest entrant and flipped back a page-twenty-three years-and there was Jun’s name and his birth date. Following his name were Nino’s and Aiba’s names, one after the other, and the dates they had been adopted.
“All the people who have left our family are marked here as well.” Through each of their names was a thick line of black ink.
“My choice is to set you free, Masaki. It’s your turn to make yours.”
Epilogue
Dear Kazu,
It is season of the first day of summer; I know you are getting along well.
It’s been two full moons since I wrote, I’m sorry. Spring was a busy season for us. Sho’s mother had the two of us to clear out the attic and patch the roof where a tree branch had fallen after the snow melted. The old master from the school also decided to retire and asked Sho if he wouldn’t like to teach in his place. He’s been spending all of his free time in his father’s study leafing through books, preparing for lessons. His brother is one of his students-which is both a relief and a burden. He doesn’t want to disappoint or embarrass him.
I’ve been helping Sho’s mother and sister, who has moved back home. Her mother-in-law passed away and she didn’t want to stay. Her daughter is the cutest thing; it’s nice having children around the house. I heard mention of you in town the other day. You are really becoming famous! They were some travelers from the southern coast and spoke highly of your compositions. It won’t be long before Kimura-sama comes to find you to bring you back to play for him, I’m sure.
I received a letter from Jun not so long ago. Kimura-sama has returned from Kyoto and brought a whole new retinue with him. There are several dozen samurai in the valley now and everyone is feeling better for it, though it’s been peaceful since winter. He even brought his new wife. After all the chaos last summer, I guess he felt the need to start trying for a son. Better late than never, I suppose. Yamaguchi returned from his pilgrimage and said Fuji-san is more beautiful than the paintings. I would like to see that for myself one day.
Did Jun tell you? He’s decided to get married. She’s the daughter of one of Matsumoto-san’s friends. He says she’s nice and pretty and won’t stand for his temper so I think she will balance him out nicely. He says she loves him. They will have the ceremony in the fall; do you think you’ll be able to make it? I want to congratulate him in person. He deserves this.
Sho gives his best. Tell Ohno-san hello. How is the farm? Do you think you’ll get a good yield this season? After the harvest, you and Ohno-san should come visit us. Sho would like to see you both as well.
As always, I pray for your health and happiness.
From Masaki
The End
~
Footnote:
The first and last lines of the letter are loose translations of some seasonal greetings (for the month of May) used in Japanese. They sound kind of weird and stilted in English but what can you do, it's really formal Japanese and it doesn't quite translate into English.
立夏の候、皆様お元気にお過ごしと存じます。 Rikka no sousou, mina-sama ogenki ni osugoshi to zonjimasu.
The season of the first day of summer, I know everyone is getting along healthily/well.
末筆ながら、皆様のご健康とご多幸をお祈り申し上げます。 Mappitsu nagara, mina-sama no gokenkou to gotakou wo oinori moushi agemasu.
(Letter closing phrase expressing regret for delay), I am wishing everyone's health and great happiness.