Groundhog Day Contest Entries

THE AOIYA SPECIAL

by Daiji

"Aoshi-sama? We need you back at the Aoiya. Could you come with me, please?"

Something was amiss. Even without seeing her, Aoshi felt Misao bow low in her supplication. He also read the troubled aura from the girl. And the fact that she actually came walking-not running, not skipping happily-into the temple was disturbing in itself.

Something is clearly amiss...

He promptly stood up and made to follow the young girl. Walking along the grassy path, Misao was unusually quiet. Their walks were always filled with Misao’s animated conversations, mostly one-sided. But today, a frown creased her brow as they moved along, but it vanished as she turned to him with a little smile.

"Is there something wrong, Misao?" he needed to know, as some time passed without her saying a word. Most unusual...

"I’ll... you’ll know soon, when we get there," she assured him with another smile.

They didn't exchange a word until they arrived at the Aoiya. Once inside the grounds, Misao glanced around, and then headed for the large room in the far end of the house that served as their own meeting hall. As she slid the door open, they saw Ochika and Omasu sitting quietly together.

They acknowledged the newcomers with a bow as Aoshi and Misao sat down. A quick look on their faces told Aoshi this was serious business.

"What is this about?" he asked without preamble.

The older women shared a look, and then slowly turned to Misao. She gave them a slight scowl before facing Aoshi.

"Well, you see..." Misao bit her lip. "It's Jiya."

Aoshi went rigid. What concerned him more was he hadn't heard of anything more than Okina being away to visit an old friend in Yanagibashi. Perhaps it was recent news. If it concerned his welfare, Misao would have rushed to the temple with the news, not ask him back here.

Misao was tugging at her long pigtail. "It's just that he's been unlivable these past weeks, Aoshi-sama! Playing tricks on us, making our lives miserable..." Her brows furrowed in consternation.

This was so unexpected that Aoshi stared at her for some seconds. "What has he done?"

"For starters, Jiya slipped squid ink in Omasu's wash load."

Before he could ask, Omasu took out several bundles of clothing. Evidently, they used to be pure white under kimonos. Not anymore, not with the dark uneven splotches staining it.

"I doubt these would ever come out," Omasu supplied, her voice in controlled anger.

"There is more." It was more of a statement than a question. They are, after all, referring to Okina, who hardly do things halfway.

Ochika gave a suppressed sigh. "He bolted my bedroom door that I had to get out of the window. Even if I had them taken out, he puts it back."

"He also had the temerity to put a-a spider in my drawer!" Misao cut in indignantly. "I had to ask Kuro to take it out before the damn pest made a home in it!"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Right about the time Himura-san and the others left for Tokyo," Omasu informed him. "Yes, that would be right."

"Why wasn't I told of this?"

They looked at each other, hesitation in their faces. Then the older women stared at Misao once more. She blew out a sigh.

"Because we didn't think the situation seemed very important to need your attention," she put in.

"Misao. When Okina resorts to these lowly methods, I think this is considered a dire situation," Omasu explained.

Aoshi wisely decided not to ask what other tricks Okina has played on her. The fist shaking in her lap was answer enough.

"You all are certain these are all his doing?" he wanted to be sure.

"Aoshi-sama," Misao replied a bit wearily, "I doubt Shiro or Kuro would be dumb enough to play pranks on us. Jiya is the only one capable of it."

He didn't doubt it for a second, but he should at least make some effort of trying to save face for the old man. Aoshi himself bore witness to Okina's inclination to poke fun at his clansmen whenever inaction chafed him. And, with old age, inaction was a constant companion. So he turned his mind to the women, a diversion he disregarded during the high point of their Oniwabanshu days.

The former okashira made a show of seriously considering the matter. "What would you like me to do?" He asked at last.

"We would be indebted to you, Aoshi-sama if you would say a word to him," Ochika, always the cool one, asked with a low bow.

"Or at least cripple him for a few days," Misao suggested, "just to keep him from bothering us for a while."

Aoshi gave her a reproving look. She had the decency to look contrite, and ducked her head. Of all the things she had to suggest... Although it somewhat amused him Misao conveniently forgot it was he who almost killed the old man. Now he was mystified as to what things had driven these women to desperation to even ask his help.

"I will speak with him when he comes back from his journey," Aoshi announced. "But I make no assurances that my words would do any good."

Two days had passed since his conversation with the three women. And the object of their grief had sent word that he would not be back for another three days. Perhaps he found a... pleasant distraction in old Binya's town. Aoshi sighed, with a silent prayer to the heavens for the hapless girl who happened to come his way.

He decided take his meditations to his rooms after their dialogue to see if they were mistaken with their insinuations. Nothing untoward had happened... yet. This kind of waiting game irritated him. It was a complete waste of time, when he could have stayed at the temple and--and meditated. While it was true that he had a lot of time in his hands, Aoshi would rather waste his in his own terms.

When he thought that he wasted time enough on waiting for ghost pranksters, he heard someone approach. Two of them, in fact.

"Enter."

Shiro appeared at the open door. “Aoshi-sama, a visitor.” He gave a short bow and stepped aside for the other person to stand by the threshold.

Aoshi was puzzled to see Takani Megumi standing outside his study. Her eyes were downcast, the hand clasped to her chest which gave away her apprehension.

He remembered his manners and ushered their guest inside. She complied with much hesitation, like she didn’t expect to be brought to him. She cast a furtive glance at Shiro.

“If you wish, I’ll have someone call Misao,” Aoshi suggested. “Okina is out visiting a friend.”

Megumi looked up. “No, it’s alright. The matter is too urgent for me to delay much longer.” She took a long breath. “I need your help.”

Aoshi cocked a brow. Those four words were the last things he expected from her. And it seemed she, too, was taken by surprise at her own words.

Megumi waited as Aoshi sat on the tatami, gesturing for her to take the one across from him. They sat there for some time, Aoshi regarding her silently, Megumi taking interest at a corner of his low desk. He knew she’ll come around and get into business, so he waited. But when her cheeks began to flush pink, he thought of helping her along.

“This seems to be some delicate matter for you to come a long way from Tokyo,” he remarked casually.

This brought her attention back to the present. “Yes, it is,” she acknowledged. “I considered the situation, and I believe I’d get an honest, unbiased opinion if I asked you.”

“Is not Battousai, Kamiya Kaoru, or even Sagara’s opinion not sufficient for you?” he put in the query.

Megumi’s brown eyes flashed briefly. “Even so, we would still end up coming here. And”—the blush returned to her cheeks—“it’s a rather private matter I’d rather have one person know.”

Now Aoshi was intrigued. “Go on.”

She bit her lower lip. “You see, for the past weeks, I’ve been getting letters. Love letters, in fact.”

Aoshi blinked slowly.

She flicked her hair back as she went on. “I ignored them, like I always have in the past. But, lately… this sender has been very insistent and”—she looked away—“more aggressive with his approach.”

He controlled the urge to openly gape at her. Love letters? And why was she coming to him?

“You’ve read them.”

“Of course I did,” she replied in a matter-of-factly tone. “I might have learned something about him, or if there’s even something wrong with him. He hasn’t threatened me in any way, but when an amorous letter comes by almost everyday, it’s disrupting my work.”

He gave a curt nod. “But you are afraid he would try something drastic?” Aoshi concluded.

Megumi produced a bundle of letters. She thumbed through some of them and placed then in two piles.

“These are post-marked from Tokyo,” she explained as she pushed the first pile towards him. “And these were unmarked, obviously hand-delivered.”

Aoshi sensed what she wasn’t saying: her admirer had come to Tokyo. He glanced at the two bundles. They apparently came from one source. Each had Megumi’s name written in flourished calligraphy. He frowned.

“May I?”

She gave a half-hearted nod, her face reddening.

Aoshi opened one letter and scanned the contents. There were no headers, no dates or signature, only the concise message:

Aoshi’s brows knitted further, eyeing the almost faultless inscription in dark-gray ink. The lines were of precise writing, the strokes smooth and unhurried as a poet’s haiku. Yet the writing bothered him. Something, somehow, tugged at unconscious corners in his mind that he couldn’t grasp at. He then opened the other letters, scrutinized each character with a critical eye. Then he laid them out on the table one by one. To an unsuspecting eye, there was hardly anything that could be gleaned from the letters. But nothing escapes an Oniwaban. And it was clear to Aoshi that the writer was masking his handwriting. He saw through the disguised hand, however, as a pattern was starting to emerge from seeing all the letters. He knew the culprit.

Although he was at a loss if he should laugh, be angry, or be embarrassed. Or how he could do all three at once.

“Well?”

He looked up to see the candid anxiety in Megumi’s eyes. Aoshi set down the letters, laced his fingers together, before looking intently at the woman. For the first time in his life, Aoshi was genuinely speechless.

What the hell am I going to tell her?

He inwardly chided himself. After all, what was he afraid of? Nobody’s reputation was at stake, and the worst the man can get was a tongue-lashing.

“You need not worry, Takani Megumi,” he said at last. “This man doesn’t seek harm on you.”

“I’m quite sure,” she replied archly. “But his letters are bothering me at work! My patients are more interested if I will reciprocate to this man’s request than be concerned of their well-being. And Genzai-sensei…! He can’t stop teasing me about it! It’s so annoying!” She turned away in her irritation.

Well, well. It seemed that he has really kept busy…

“He has also created a disturbance here,” Aoshi admitted, “since you left with Battousai and the others.”

She looked back at him sharply. “Disturbance?”

“Nothing significant. But he has been a nuisance to the women here.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Okina, isn’t it?” When he showed no outward reaction, she went on. “Don’t keep it from me. Your silence confirms it. And his absence only implicates him further.”

Aoshi wanted to applaud her shrewdness. “I had no intention of withholding from you.”

“Then what should we do?”

He raised a brow. “We? What do you mean?”

Megumi looked surprised. “You are their okashira.”

“No, I’m not,” he pointed out softly.

“As it were,” she pressed, “he is still one of you, and you should be responsible for each other’s actions.”

Aoshi’s eyebrow tilted up again. “You make it sound like he has done a terrible deed.”

“But…” She sat back. “You don’t want to help me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

He couldn’t help letting out a sigh. “Understand that Okina hasn’t done anything unlawful. And, furthermore,” he added with a hint of sorrow, “I’m the last person who should be dictating his actions.”

Comprehension dawned on his unspoken allusion, and she lowered her gaze. “I see,” she acknowledged. Then she looked up, her face an odd mix of dismay and determination. “Did Okina say when he will be due back?”

“He said he will return in two days.”

She nodded distractedly. “I hope you have no objection to me confronting him?”

“I don’t see a reason to.” A corner of his lips quirked up slightly. “I won’t be the one to stop you. He has wronged you in a way.”

Megumi looked satisfied. “I’ll be staying at the Shirobeko. I’ll come back once Okina-san has returned.”

“No need. We have available rooms here. Misao and the other will surely insist.”

She gave a small smile. “I thank you for your hospitality,” she said with a bow. “I would gladly accept.”

Aoshi returned it. “It is the least we can do, under the circumstances. I shall make the arrangements.”

“What! The nerve of that old man! I told you I should have knocked some sense into him! Real hard. But you just had to stop me…”

Megumi had to smile as she watched Misao fume and rant in amusement after learning her situation. The young women came by Megumi’s room upon learning of her arrival. And they, too, related their own woes.

“I’m sure Megumi-san shares your sentiment,” Ochika remarked, who was busy folding towels. “But how were you able to find out it was him?”

“Aoshi,” Megumi revealed. “He must have recognized his handwriting.”

The other’s eyes shot wide. Even Omasu, who was busy preparing their drinks, stopped from her task and sat with the others.

“Honto, ne?” she asked. “Aoshi-sama actually read your letters?”

“What did he say about Okina’s talent for writing?” Omasu was curious.

 “Or lack thereof,” Misao put in with a snigger.

 “What did he say he’ll do?”

 “Nothing, actually,” Megumi admitted glumly.

 “Nothing?” They couldn’t believe what they heard.

 “He had his reasons,” she was quick to point out, “and I do understand.”

 “But, he…” Misao’s words faded in the air as she looked at the others helplessly. “There’s no way we’ll let Jiya get away with this!”

 “That’s right!” Omasu echoed Misao’s enthusiasm; her determination to get back at Okina seemed contagious. “He must be taught a lesson once and for all!”

 “That does sound good,” Ochika said. “But what do we do?”

The three young women stared helplessly at one another. Little did they know that Megumi had been quietly devising a plan as they chatted.

She studied Ochika intently. “I think it’s time we hold a council of war.”

The three Oniwabanshu females gaped at Megumi. She couldn’t contain her glee.

 “No.”

 “You haven’t heard my arguments…”

 “I know why you’re here. Whatever it is, my answer is no. I don’t want any part of it.”

When Takani Megumi came to his quarters looking like a contented cat after chasing down her prey, Aoshi was sure she has spoken with the other women about Okina. And have made their plans.

 “Shinomori-san,” she said in an indulgently patient tone, “your cooperation could mean the success of our plan.”

Aoshi wanted to laugh. The apprentice doctor was starting to sound like an Oniwaban tactician.

 “Your involvement would give more credence to it.”

 “To your little game?” Aoshi asked coolly. Megumi nodded. “You have gained the help of the three, and now you need mine?”

She flashed a disturbingly sweet smile. “Your involvement is quite minimal, to be sure. But it is necessary. You can leave the rest to us.”

Aoshi was reminded of a predator ready to pounce on his victim, and her eyes were already gleaming with anticipation.

Presently those brown eyes were hooded and smoky as she trained it temptingly at him.

 “Don’t you want to pay him his dues for what he’s done?” she drawled.

His brows came together. “What are you trying to say?” he demanded quietly.

Those teasing eyes tore away from his as she idly toyed at the ends of her hair. “Misao told me how he played tricks on you when you were a boy. Some of them were quite nasty.” She all but purred.

Aoshi knew what she was saying all too well. From scrubbing the council hall with only a small paper tissue, to that lone raid to the brother “because your okashira ordered it”…

The dish has gone cold enough. You are on your own, old man…

The smell of the hunt was in the air.

The sight of the Kyoto skyline didn’t cheer him up that day, liked it used to, as it loomed up from the dark-red horizon. He would have come home earlier since the reason of his journey had left, but Okina chose to leave at the appointed time since he won’t be able to explain his early arrival without arousing suspicion. And the Oniwabanshu, specially his old ward Aoshi, are too suspicious for their own good.

Without the lovely doctor to fawn upon those two days, Okina whiled away the time actually visiting old acquaintances and drinking away. Maybe I overdid it,  he mused, referring to the secret letters he sent. He knew she would seek someone about those letters, most likely Himura. The old spy had guessed as much when Megumi left one early morning. Posing as one of her patients, he found out she had gone out of town. To where, they did not know. He would have followed her, but if he was right, and she was going to see him, Himura and the others might discover him, and the game would be up.

He gave a long sigh as he picked up his bag. How he solely missed Megumi those two days! He was never this smitten on a woman since Nobuko-chan so many years ago. In a way, they were alike: porcelain skin, lovely eyes, how they let their hair flow freely, and even their fiery nature that made his blood rush through his veins. Oh, they were such spirited, fleeting creatures he wanted to bridle and conquer!

He took the carriage back to town, his thoughts filled with the images of the lovely doctor. Ever since the day she graced them with her presence in the Shirobeko, her face pervaded his thoughts, and her hands thrilled his senses. He sighed again. Nothing was more exciting for an old man than being graced by the company of a beautiful woman.

At least,  he consoled himself as he stepped out of the carriage and onto the streets fronting the Aoiya,  I have those three to entertain me.

The sight of Shiro and Kuro serving the guests puzzled him.  This was the women’s duty.

“Where are the girls?” Okina inquired as Kuro came to take his belongings.

“They’ve gone to the market since this afternoon, the stout youth answered.  “They should be back soon.”

“Good,” Okina gave a nod.  That will be enough time to create a welcoming present, he thought happily.

“Anou—Aoshi-sama wants to see you, “  Kuro added.

“Very well.  Take my things to my room.  I’ll be there to meet him shortly.”

Aoshi was in his study, poring over a thick manuscript.  As was their formed habit, Okina sat down quietly and waited.

“I trust your visit went well?” Aoshi inquired, his eyes still on the pages before him.

“Quite well,” Okina rejoined.  “But we are not here to be asked of my journey.”

The young man looked up then, closing the large volume and setting it aside. “Takani Megumi came here for help yesterday.”

Okina though he felt his heart leap.  “She’s here?”

His old ward’s stare became more intent.

“You’re surprised,” he said in nonchalance, but Okina knew there were more to his words.

He tried to smother his excitement with a cough.  “This is the last place you’d expect her to be,” he explained.

“She needs our help in finding someone,” Aoshi went on.  “She said she was being harassed by some mentally-deprived person who has nothing to do but send her inane drivel for letters.”

Okina was inwardly appalled at what he heard, but couldn’t display his shock with Aoshi closely watching.  He was also disappointed at hearing his efforts being spurned by a lovely lady.

“Such… strong words,” Okina managed to say with a tepid smile.  “Have you seen the letters?”

“She has yet to show them to me,” he answered.  “When Takani-san learned you weren’t here, she was clearly disappointed.  I doubt she would let me read them.”

Dismay laced Aoshi’s last words, but Okina sensed something else disturbed him.  “Something about this is troubling you.”

Aoshi gave a sigh, his gaze turning away.  “There’s a concern about her health,” he confessed at last.  “This affair has distressed her so that she has taken ill.”

The news alarmed Okina.  His innocent letters had driven a charming woman to fear for her own safety.  He needed to do something to rectify his wrongdoing.

"What do we do?  What can I do to help?"  At that point, he didn't care what Aoshi might think.

"Find out what you can," he said.  "See if you can have her show you the letters.  She is staying in the premium quarters upstairs. The last one, so as not to disturb her."

Okina didn't waste any time.  He took his leave and went upstairs to Megumi's quarters.  He was surprised to see there was hardly any light coming from her room.

"Megumi-san?" he called out softly. "It’s Okina–may I come in?"

He heard the quiet invitation to enter, which tore at him. One lit candle, placed on a small table near the door, was the only light source. Despite the dim surroundings, he was able to make out the figure on the futon across the room.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as came near.  His heart stopped.  Megumi looked miserable as he felt.  Her head was turned away, but her skin looked ghastly pale. The hand that clutched the blanket was dotted with perspiration.

"G-gomen, Okina-san," came her raspy reply.  "The light hurts my eyes so, that's why I can't face you."

“It’s all right,” he said gently. “Megumi-san, I… heard why you’re here.”

Megumi gave a ragged sigh. “It is a rather embarrassing situation, but… this man… that man was so persistent. I was afraid of my security that I had to come here for help. Ken-san, and the others… I didn’t want them to know…”

He patted her hand and let it linger there. He couldn’t stand to see her suffer any longer. “My dear, I have a confession to make.” He took in a long breath. “When your group left, I… I felt this longing for company. It seemed so quiet around here without anyone to talk to.” He gave a sigh. “I suppose I missed your presence. And you were the only one who paid attention to me. The girls here… they don’t pay attention to this old man anymore. And I thought that they would after a few pranks here and there…”

She finally turned to him, slightly. “What are you saying?”

Okina gulped, leaning back. “I sent you those letters, Megumi-san.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. But all there was is silence, followed by a tired sigh.

 “I am truly sorry for what I put you through, Megumi-san, I really am. I hope you can forgive the whim of a foolish old man.” His forehead touched the floor in a bow. “Ask anything of me, and I’ll do it. Anything at all!”

He felt a clammy touch on his hand that made him lift his head.

 “You know that I cannot really reciprocate in the way you want me to…”

He nodded hastily. “Yes, I know.”

 “That’s why I’m returning your letters to you…”

 “Yes, yes. I understand…” He thought it fortunate. This way, nobody will get a hold of the evidence…

 “Is there anything else that you wish?” he asked.

 “Only-“

 “Megumi-chan!”

She gave another gasp. “—that…”

Okina’s eyes were misting. “Y-yes?”

 His hand was suddenly caught in a death grip, his fingertips beginning to feel numb.

  “That you do not call me Megumi-chan EVER!”

 “What…?” All he knew was he was sailing through the air and landing on the far side of the room with a big thud.

What just happened?! His joints hurt, and his wrist gave a painful throb. He shook his head in trying to get his senses together. When he opened his eyes, four shadows loomed ominously over his prone form.

Misao was staring down at him, her tobi kunai giving out a nasty gleam in the low light. “A prank here and there, huh?”

They took a step closer, he scrambled back. “Let me explain…”

Omasu was there, too, brandishing a bokken. “Would you care to explain how I will get my clothes back?”

He let out a nervous laugh. “Please, ladies, they were just out of fun! Can’t we all forget about this?”

Megumi swept her hair back… Okina felt his world beginning to crumble. “O-Ochika? But where is Megumi-chan?”

She gave a victorious smile, but didn’t say a word. The fourth shadow crossed its arms.

 “Didn’t Ochika tell you not to call me that?” Her arms were crossed now, her eyes set in a rather unearthly glow.

He looked frantically from one face to the other. “W-what are you going to do?”

For answers, Misao cracked her knuckles, Ochika gave a sweet smile, Omasu produced a bundle of rope from behind her, while Megumi brought out a needle too large for his liking.

  “HELP!!!”

 As soon as the scuffling was heard, a shadow separated itself from the darkened walls. A second figure drew near.

 “What should we tell the customers?” Shiro asked.

 Aoshi glanced at Megumi’s room, a corner of his lips twitching. “If they ask, apologize-“

“No, please! Not the—ARGH!!”

  “-and tell them that a guest’s wife had come to collect her husband, and requests not to be disturbed for any reason.”

  “Ah.” Shiro looked crestfallen, looking at the source of the noise. “Aren’t we going to intervene?”

Aoshi turned toward the door again, effectively hiding the small grin from the other onmitsu.