Tod
und die Krahe: Eine Geschichte einer Reise
D. Gregory 12/2000
"Der reine Tor!"//
ürft ich den Tod ihn nennen!
Richard Wagner, Parsifal, Act I
Act I
"You're a long way from home, Herr Shinomori." The gaijin at his shoulder gave Shinomori Aoshi a thorough sense of what Sagara would have described as 'the creeps'. "So desu ne." he answered absently, directing the placement of the Emperor's contribution to what was being touted as "The World Cultural Exposition of 1885".
Truthfully, since the Emperor had requested him months ago, Aoshi had developed another name for it. "Hell on Earth". At first, though, he had been thankful for it. Misao, a grown woman now, had ascended to her rightful place as Okashira. He had stepped down at her request... but she had somehow expected him to take Okina's place.
The thought had been as though stone slabs had been placed on his chest to squeeze the life and breath from him. He had spent his entire remembered life in the service of the Oniwabanshuu, and despite the true pride he felt that Misao had grown enough to be able to truly shoulder the responsibilities, he felt trapped. Almost panicked, actually, at the vision of growing old and dottard as an advisor.
When the request came for him, that he had been chosen by name to head security for the Japanese contribution to the Exhibition, as well as the Ambassador, Aoshi had very nearly leapt for joy. Misao had been hurt, though, and had even tried to enlist the Battousai to get him to stay.
"What about the Oniwabanshuu, Aoshi? What will they do...?"
The violet eyes, gentle now, fixed him in place like an arrow.
He paused for a moment, a faint ghost of almost paternal pride fleeting
across his green eyes. "... but I can't be an advisor like Ji-ya was..
and there's nothing for me here.... " Aoshi hadn't realized how those
few words would hurt when he finally said them aloud, and he paused in his
packing, hands trembling suddenly.
"Aoshi.. you're not alone.. your friends..." Kenshin stepped
towards him and stopped. "Your life is here.."
There was something stricken in the jade eyes as they met Kenshin's violet
ones. "... I have no life here." he said softly, then, no trace
of emotion in his voice, returning to the actions of packing. "I have
no reason to remain any longer...."
There was always something they wanted to say to each other, but the words ...the very thoughts, never took form, and Aoshi was left each time they spoke, with a bitter taste in the back of his throat... the sour taste of words that died in his heart.
They'd seen him off, Misao and the Himuras...all of them, and in return he'd given them but a curt nod.
The image of them.. his...friends.. on the dock that sunny day.. lingered in his mind. The further he got away from Japan, the emptier he felt, recalling the image.
At first, he thought it was homesickness.. then madness.. but in the end resolved it to be something else. (Perhaps my life is there...) He touched his chest one night, standing on deck and watching the endless black of the sea (...but what's done is done. I can only see where this new path leads)
And so far it had lead here, after months of boredom and seasickness, then endless rounds of political idiocy in foreign languages he was only vaguely proficient in.
(You're a long way from home.) He looked over at the gaijin.. with his neatly oiled red hair, bowler tipped jaunty on his head and his amber eyes bright. Julien Todhimmel he called himself... part of the Swiss security for the exposition.
"sumimasen... excuse me.. Toduhimmeru-san" Himura.. Aoshi found himself gazing at the man's scarlet hair a moment. It was a statement of the obvious, but there was an undertone that Aoshi didn't like. A threat? His grasp of French far exceeded his grasp of German.. but he felt frustrated by both. " You are correct... yes.. we are a long way from Nihon." He narrowed his gaze at the man, unwilling to be lulled by the surface similarity.
"I meant you in particular, Herr Shinomori.. May I call you Aoshi?" he extended his hand. "Seeing as how we'll be working together for a while."
There it was again... some undertone, some sense of hidden meaning in his tone that Aoshi immediately bristled inwardly at. "I would prefer Shinomori, thank you." he said with bland respect. "But I don't understand what you mean, by "me in particular"."
The redhead laughed, a sharp bark. "Allow me to be a gentleman to another, then, Herr Shinomori, and join me for dinner tonight? There's a wonderful pub down in the plaza... I'd be... happy to explain."
Aoshi scowled at Todhimmel.
The idiot didn't know him well enough to be cowed by it, though. (Still.. best to keep your enemies close... ) He lifted his chin a bit, gaining a small bit of height on the other man. "... then I suppose I shall accept." Gaijin always were direct, and even though Aoshi was considered blunt in his own land, he was still far more circumspect then westerners.
"Excellent. I'll have a carriage for you, then, at your hotel." Todhimmel dipped his bowler towards Aoshi. "8 p.m., then, Herr Shinomori... I look forward to your fine company."
Aoshi watched the man go, but the crawling feeling on his skin remained.
"Shinomori-san? Sumimasen...." the soft reminder of one of his staff brought him back to the present and Aoshi returned to his duties, setting his private concerns aside for the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hooves of the carriage horse clacked sharply on the stones of Zurich's streets, and Aoshi watched the men and women bustle about their business. This place was so foreign, but once he looked past the differences, the rhythm of city life was not much different here than in his beloved Kyoto. He felt that empty twinge in his chest at the thought of home, so far away.
The twinge stayed with him the rest of the way to the pub, almost a growing physical ache.
It wasn't eased when he caught a flash of red.
Todhimmel was waiting for him at the curb, his hat tucked under his arm, eyes nearly as bright as the streetlights.
As the carriage rattled to a halt, the redhead opened the door for him and extended a hand, almost as though he were receiving a princess. With a faint scowl, Aoshi ignored the hand. "This is a much larger city than I realized." he said by way of greeting, blandly.
"Indeed it is, good Herr Shinomori.. I much prefer Vienna, myself, though. Perhaps after this exhibition ends, I can convince you to join me there for holiday?" Aoshi turned the city name over in his mind "Bienna... that isn't in Switzerland, hai?"
Todhimmel laughed, then, shaking his head. "Hardly. I'm Austrian, my dear sir..my association with the Swiss government is merely a matter of employment." As he spoke, he took the onmitsu by the arm, leading him into the crowded pub.
Aoshi fought back the urge to yank his arm away, his free hand tightening on the gleaming black walking stick that housed two specially-adapted kodachi. He hated crowds like this, too many people in too small a place.
Todhimmel, on the other hand, seemed to relish it, guiding Aoshi to a table in the back.
The menu on the smoky wall was in French, and he was trying to decipher it when he realized Todhimmel had paused in his incessant babbling about how much better Vienna was. "Do you eat meat, Herr Shinomori? I have been led to understand that many of your people do not.."
"I do not, hai.....eat ..meat." He met the peculiar amber gaze for a moment, then looked back at the menu. "I've heard of your Nipponese samurai.. amazing such warriors could be produced in a land that eats mostly.. what.. fish and vegetables? hardly something to ennoble the blood."
Todhimmel produced a pipe from his waistcoat and tapped it. "Have you ever eaten meat, Herr Shinomori? The primeval sink of fang into flesh, the warm gush of juices.. it's really quite exciting. Someone as pale and frail as you would do well by that...."
Aoshi quirked an eyebrow at him, suppressing a sudden urge to kill the Austrian right there. Up until the part about his appearance, he'd been fixed by some morbid fascination with the other man's words. "I am hardly sickly, Toduhimmeru-san.. but thank you for your...concern." He finally was able to find something that didn't involve sausages or some other equally ghastly European food, and the waitress returned shortly with a bottle of ruby-hued wine in a dusty bottle. "I come here frequently" Todhimmel offered. "They know I prefer a quality vintage."
"I would prefer tea, thank you. Or water if that is not available." Aoshi started, but Todhimmel continued to pour. "This is not Nippon, my pale friend.." he said, smirking. "This is Europe.. and we are lovers of wine." He placed a glass in front of Aoshi. "It would be in poor taste not to drink with me. Inhospitable, even."
Aoshi picked up the glass, examining it. He was familiar with nearly every poison that had ever been used in his homeland, and many that had come from the mainland. While he was inexperienced with the European equivalents, the wine smelled only of fruit and the sharp tang of alcohol, and no sediment seemed to cloud the garnet depths.
" So you can appreciate a fine glass!" Todhimmel sounded delighted. Aoshi gave him a blandly disgusted look and sipped the wine, almost immediately gagging. "That.. is... "
As he reached for the word, Todhimmel took a long sip, savoring it. "...delicious. A truly noble grape."
"If you say so." he took another sip, still grimacing at the taste, so unlike wine or sake from home, neither of which he particularly liked either.
They caused one to lose control, something he didn't care for. The burn in the back of his throat was mildly pleasant though, and he determined to nurse this glass, even as Todhimmel poured another and their food arrived.
"You are a man of temperance, Herr Aoshi... " the amber eyes twinkled. "a man who schools himself, who maintains a tight control on himself, is that true?"
"I am." he said flatly, the acid and grape in his mouth both sweet and sour. Todhimmel leaned forward. "It's a control I will enjoy seeing in action, schone Krahe.." Aoshi set the glass down, the clatter on the wooden table unnoticed in the din. "Nani...." He moved to stand, a sudden cold filling his veins. "teme....."
Todhimmel's amber eyes gleamed, predatory for a moment, then in the dim light. "It's not wise for someone like you to be unattended, schone Krahe... stay and take advantage of my company... I don't mean you any harm. I simply wish to get to know a.....colleague... better...."
Aoshi's jaw twitched for a moment, jade eyes narrowing to slits as he regarded the Austrian. "What did you call me... ?"
The amusement returned to Todhimmel's leonine eyes and he switched to French. "le beau corbeau....with your dark hair and harsh demeanor. If you were a woman, you'd be the toast of the town with your cold ways.. la belle dame sans merci, oui?"
The strength seemed to leave his legs, and Aoshi sat down heavily, translating the French in the back of his mind, hearing not so much his long-unheard childhood nickname, but the false endearments of the lords of Edo.. his stomach twisted faintly, his face remaining impassive. "that is.. ironic..." he said softly, taking another sip of the wine, mostly as an act to steady his hand.
"..but I am more than capable of taking care of myself." he finished, setting the glass down, only with the faintest tremor. "Of that, I have no reason to disbelieve you, Herr Shinomori. But there are things afoot in the world that are dangerous for strangers in a strange land..." Todhimmel rested his hand, strangely cold, on Aoshi's for a moment. "Now. Please, enjoy your meal, I didn't mean to startle you."
Aoshi removed his hand from under the Austrian's, frowning, before picking at his fish. The imprint of Todhimmel's hand seemed to linger there disturbingly, and the western utensils, despite his practice during the long journey from Nihon, were uncomfortable to his hand.
Todhimmel sawed off a piece of lamb and chewed it slowly, watching Aoshi toy with his food. "I've also heard stories about the courtesans of Nippon.. what do you call them.. Geishas? With their white skins and painted eyes. Is that what you would've been if you were a woman in your homeland, Herr Shinomori, instead of.. what you are?" He daubed at the corner of his lip with a napkin. "Myself, I don't know.." He laughed and took a sip of wine.
"You are... naa..totemo hen da zo... ah.. very strange, Toduhimmeru-san... " Aoshi regarded him blandly, setting his fork down. "I am suddenly not feeling very well, though.. perhaps I should return to my hotel... Tomorrow will be a long day."
The honest truth, was, in fact, he felt light-headed. Not drunk, but as though he had been without air for too long.
Todhimmel's presence was oppressive, and the stench of tobacco, cologne and food in the pub was nearly a solid mass unto itself now, blocking the air from his lungs. He stood, one hand on the table and the other on the walking stick to balance himself.
Aoshi had never considered himself particularly claustrophobic, but he had a growing urge to flee this place… this city even. Todhimmel's unnervingly cool hand was on his arm just as quickly, the amber eyes glittering with some emotion he couldn't place.
"I'll see you safely home, Herr Shinomori, have no fear of that."
Aoshi jerked his arm away from the Austrian, but the motion unbalanced him. "Poison…" he gasped, even as Todhimmel caught him, the Austrian's breath cool on his ear as the man whispered to him. "No, schone Krahe…
you're just overwhelmed."
Everything slipped into a pleasantly numb blackness after that.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Aoshi awoke in the hotel room to a desperate knocking on the door. "Aoshi-sama! Daijoubu? Aoshi-sama?" Aoshi blinked, and looked around the room as though it were alien, for a long moment. "Yes.. yes, I'm fine, Ishii. Don't worry."
There was a relieved sigh. "We were concerned, sir…you were not up at dawn as you usually are." Aoshi scowled, and looked out at the brilliant sunlight streaming through the thick glass, then at the clock.
"I'm just feeling a little ill, Ishii-kun… I… apologize. I'll join you all shortly."
The young man on the other side of door must look deflated with relief, Aoshi thought to himself after the long pause. "Don't worry, sir. We've taken care of the rest of the arrangements, following the schedules you drew up. I think you'll be pleased."
"Thank you very much, Ishii… I'll see you all in a bit."
He heard the soft retreating footfalls, and lay back, smoothing his soft sleeping yukata.
Recollection was hazy after dinner at the pub with that irritating Austrian.
The possibilities ticked through his mind as he sat up again, checking his things. The western-style suit and shirt had not only been removed, but the maid had apparently cleaned and pressed them.. a kind gesture, or one to remove evidence? He frowned. All of his belongings were untouched, the walking stick intact, there were no new marks or odd new aches, despite the fact that someone else had dressed him.
He fingered the inexpertly tied sash.
"What is your game, gaijin?" He said to himself softly, undressing to bathe. "……and what do you expect from me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The reprimand for his morning absence from the Ambassador was short and painful, Aoshi remaining impassive for the brief duration of the angry little diplomat's tirade, and the day settled into the routine of coordinating the men guarding the Ambassador, as well as those securing the exhibit that had accompanied them.
He had chosen the guards himself, from the ranks of the Oniwabanshuu, and trusted them as he would have himself.
The Ambassador had a strong belief that anyone he wasn't immediately supervising must be incompetent, and thus, he and Aoshi had not exactly seen eye to eye on any matters so far surrounding the exhibition.
"Herr Shinomori!"
Aoshi's shoulders stiffened at Todhimmel's voice, clear as a bell through the murmuring din of the crowds moving through the exhibition hall.
"Making your rounds, Toduhimmeru-san?" He asked without any real interest in the answer.
"Indeed. Had to stop one scoundrel already today… man tried to make off with a buffalo hide from the Americans, if you can believe it." He laughed that short, harsh bark again, and rested a congenial hand on Aoshi's shoulder. "Feeling better today are you? Rather hard to say with someone as pale as you."
"I am feeling fine today, thank you for your concern." Aoshi answered automatically. "Someone was kind enough to dress me for bed, and have my clothes freshened." The Austrian's amber eyes twinkled. "I couldn't just leave you passed out on the bed like some common drunk, my friend." Aoshi quirked a fine black eyebrow at the man, but he continued on. "You carry more scars than some might think. Fascinating.
Are you perhaps one of those samurai we spoke of last night, rather than some bloodless Nipponese bureaucrat?"
Aoshi's green eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed itself into a thin, hard line. "I am not samurai, Toduhimmeru-san… make no mistake about that."
He enjoyed a small satisfaction seeing the other flinch at the ice in his voice, but the Austrian quickly recovered. "My apologies, then, for my lack of understanding of your culture." He said with a grating smoothness. "Do you have time in your schedule to see some of the other exhibits? I would like to show some of them to you."
"Unfortunately, no." He said with the same toneless finality that had even quelled Misao's childhood chattering.
"I hope you find time, Herr Shinomori… I have something to show you… it's very impressive… about ravens…"
A cold shiver ran down Aoshi's spine as the Austrian leaned against him and whispered those last words.
"Don't speak to me again unless it is a crisis related to this exhibition." Aoshi said with a sudden, cold fierceness. "I have no more time for you, "my friend." " Aoshi stalked away, feeling the pressure of Todhimmel's gaze even as he forced his way through the milling people.
His progress was immediately impeded by something soft and hard at once, and he ran into someone.
There was a soft, feminine cry of surprise as they both stumbled and he found himself gazing into the darkest blue eyes he had ever seen.
She immediately snapped open a fan plumed with black ostrich feathers, dropping her gaze to the midnight blue sateen of her skirt.
He sat back, as startled as she seemed to be. "Sumimasen!…Eeto.. Excuse me…" The crowds took little notice of them, except for a few disapproving glances, as Aoshi found his feet again, and offered a hand to the young woman.
Her hair was as black as his own, caught up under a hat plumed in black to match the fan. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine… just a little startled." Her voice was soft, and she closed the fan, offering him a faint smile, in addition to her white-gloved hand. "You should be more careful… M'sieu…..?"
"Shinomori…" he helped her to her feet, amazed that someone wearing so many voluminous clothes could be so light. "M'sieu Shinomori…Columbine, the Countess L'oiseau d'ombre at your service."
She removed her hand, and looked at it, a moment, as if expecting to see some mark on the snowy kidskin. "I trust when I see you again, we shan't run into each other in quite this way, oui?"
With a soft giggle, she flicked the fan open again with a practiced gesture and sketched a brief, courtly curtsey.
Aoshi blinked, startled, and felt his face warm. "su..sumimasen…." He started, before she wagged a kid-gloved finger at him. "Good day, sir…" She fixed him with her midnight gaze, as unnerving as Todhimmel's amber one, before passing by him in a rustle of skirts and a faint cloud of violet water-scent.
He turned to watch her go, but she had seemingly vanished among the milling crowd, as quickly as a dream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night shift had gone on duty, and Aoshi found himself looking forward to a quiet meal alone in his room.
It was too gaudy for his taste, decorated in something he had heard called "baroque". He could only assume it was a French term meaning "Ugly, gaudy, and over-decorated." But the bed was soft enough to spoil a man, and it was quiet with its thick walls and glass windows.
A sharp rap on the door, different from the softly diffident knocks of room service, dashed his hopes of a quiet evening as easily as a storm would smash a tiny boat on sharp rocks. He cursed silently and pondered simply pretending he wasn't in.
"Herr Shinomori!" Aoshi rolled his eyes and sighed, cracking the door open slightly. "Toduhimmeru-san.. Quelle surprise." He narrowed jade eyes at the grinning redhead in the hallway. Todhimmel's smile was disturbing, feral and friendly all at once.
"I feel terrible for my earlier offense, my dear man, so I came to make amends." He held up a bottle of garnet wine, the mellow light of the hall gleaming dully on the dusty bottle.
"I understand now. You're trying to drive me crazy." Aoshi offered dryly and shut the door on Todhimmel's shiny black calfskin shoe. "leave me alone.. onegai…."
"Aoshi." Todhimmel pushed his way in and the onmitsu froze. "I know I seem.. excessive to you."
He placed one hand on Aoshi's arm, gently. "Time is shorter than you might ever realize, though, and there are many things.. I wish to discuss with you."
Aoshi moved to yank his arm away, but the gentle hold there suddenly became iron tight, and Todhimmel pulled him closer with an inexorable strength, setting the bottle down on the desk with a dull sound. "Aoshi… I don't mean you any harm…"
"You.. haven't earned the right to use my name." The onmitsu said softly, unemotionally.
"Toduhimmeru-san… you.."
"Julien… Call me Julien."
Todhimmel's lips brushed against Aoshi's, the words barely more than a warm breath on his skin.
Aoshi closed his eyes, something tugging at the threads of his memory.
Todhimmel's form offered a peculiar lack of warmth, it's length pressing against him, the inhuman strength of the hands gripping his arms suddenly, strangely, reassuring.
There was a lingering scent, under the orange flower water he'd daubed himself with, dusty and sharp, a tang of copper and leather and steel that sent a jolt down Aoshi's spine.
He smelled like Himura.
"Jureien…." It slipped out in the midst of a soft moan, Todhimmel's mouth meeting his own, brief and moist.
Himura's scent.. the Battousai's… he'd only caught it so briefly.. only in the throes of his defeat to the scarlet-haired swordsman.
And here it was now, signaling another defeat?
The green eyes flew open and he jerked back with a strength that surprised the Austrian. "No…"
Todhimmel quirked one fine red eyebrow at him, sitting on the edge of the ornate desk with a small smile.
"No?"
Aoshi scrubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, lips faintly tingling. "Chikusho.."
The amber eyes gazed levelly at him, Todhimmel regarding him calmly. "le joli corbeau….." he pushed off the desk, reaching one hand out to Aoshi. "si vous aviez été le mein…." The Austrian laid one cool hand on Aoshi's cheek, assessing the frigid anger that burned in the green eyes. "je ne vous permettez pa d'aller si facilment…"
"What do you mean, if I had been yours…?"
Aoshi knocked the hand away from his cheek, his other hand moving for a strike that would disable the Austrian.
The other man moved with an inhuman speed, blindingly fast, and as quickly as the air rushed from his lungs, Aoshi was hard against the floor, Todhimmel's cold hand clamped around his throat like an iron collar.
"You are a trying sort, aren’t you, Aoshi…?"
He bent closer, and Aoshi struggled to free himself, even as his vision flickered at the edges.
"All I am trying to do is educate you… and protect you, poor confused little bird…"
His breath tickled against Aoshi's ear, even as his knee came down painfully on the onmitsu's own, midway through trying to plant it into the Austrian's gut.
"Join me later on.. say, midnight? At the Viking exhibit… you may be more inclined to listen when you see what I have to show you…"
His tongue flicked against the hollow behind Aoshi's ear and he stood, smoothing his suit. "Good evening, my friend."
Aoshi breathed in a ragged croak of a breath, the grey haze of his vision clearing as air returned to his lungs.
He rubbed his throat and looked over at the open door.
"..hai, Toduhimmeru-san… I'll see you at midnight…"
and cold venom dripped from his words.
Notes:
(1)(The
innocent fool,
It seems to me that I
might know him,
would that I might name him as Death!)
(2)(The
time has come, my magic castle lures the fool,
whom I see approaching from afar, shouting boyishly.
In deathly sleep, the woman is held fast by whose grip I have the power to
loosen.
Up then!
To work!)
I cannot weep,
I can only shout,
rage,
storm, rave,
in an ever renewed nightmare.)
English Translation of Parsifal © 1970 Lionel Salter from the CD on Deustche Grammophon
The 1000 history flows
endlessly
The never-changing promise to the loved one
1999-2000 © Daisuke Asakura/Iceman "Wish Matrix"
English Translation : Seri-kun