[GoldenKamuy]Flowers in the Mirror
Dec. 8th, 2024 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
plotdogThat was just how mediocre she was, not "the ballet girl", not "the Kanshi girl", not "the girl who went to Cambridge". Just…tall, sometimes even taller than an average man.
When people stared at her on the way to the shrine, she knew it was not her new kimono they were fascinated about. The attention was on her, but not in a way of admiring a beauty—more of a novelty.
She could imagine their critics behind her back: Oh, that girl must eat a lot to grow the extra height. Ah, she's making every man in the room uncomfortable. Or worse, too coarse for a classy young lady's ear—did her mother have an affair with a westerner?
Once upon a time, there was a love letter from a schoolboy, in which he compared her to a cherry blossom tree.
She had torn the piece of paper into a million shreds.
Besides that, she was ordinary. Yes, she had gone to private schools to learn how to read and write, play the piano, and even took a few science courses that enlightened her about electricity and X-rays. But that's just the basics for all children from her background.
She grew up to be just as ordinary. But other girls did change.
When they played poker at the Sunday club, they were all somebody's wife, and usually a mother of one or two. They chitchatted, gossiped, exchanged high society scandals, or just complained about their rich but uncaring husbands. Their sparks were…gone.
For some reason, the weight used to crush her young heart suddenly lifted. She needn't blame herself no more. It didn't matter now.
…What matters now was Yuusaku.
She knew she had her limits. But Yuusaku's future could be limitless.
Out of her trance, she got back to her writing. "…Yuusaku isn't home. He normally stays at the academy for the weekend. You can identify him by the attached photo. I hope this information could help with your…" she paused, then carefully added, "progress".
Yuusaku doesn't seem as chatty as he was when he was a little boy. He did write sometimes, but she frowned, every time, at the letters.
Whatever his father had been lecturing him, it certainly had an effect. He wrote about how he's doing at the academy, how he's picking up military strategies and how he's getting better at handling weapons. He said that people always compliment he indeed took after his father.
He used all the neutral expressions, but she could tell he was pretty excited about it. She was worried.
She folded the letter and glued the envelope. It was a plain product with no personal remarks, for it was her intention of concealing as well as her taste for stationaries. She called for a maid.
"Give this to Okano. He knew where to send it." She tried to speak with an unenthusiastic tone, as if it was a tedious job. "I have to find a new garden contractor in secret. The old one was cutting corners, but they were recommended by Mrs. Arakaki. She wouldn't be pleased."
It turned out to be redundant to play-act before Tamiko. She didn't even blink before she took the letter and left the room.
The door closed and she was all alone in the study.
Hiro sighed and laid back into the soft leather armchair. She stared at the bookshelf and the book ridges with gilded roman letters. What if they failed? The voice in her head supplied. Or worse, what if he found out?
She sat up straight and answered to that voice. It might be bad, but not the worst. The worst thing is that he finally got him.
Yuusaku was her son, not just his. She knew that something could be passed down through the blood, but the others, with her arduous cultivation, would make his true person. Her son would become a gentleman. A noble son to perpetuate the grace of a dying, ancient family, which she couldn't be, not just to carry on a bloodline of opportunistic upstarters who made their power grab in a military coup.
Koujirou could try to wrest him from her grasp, but Yuusaku would never be like him.
"Then what? Become the useless rich kids like his cousins?" That's the unsaid words he left before departed for Hokkaido.
Although in writing, he was dignified, "I wish Yuusaku became a strong young man and the backbone of our nation."
She laughed at the handwriting. Maybe he was still concerned about her family influences that had helped him rise. Maybe he feared her that much, that even though he was reluctant to be intimate, he still had some respect for her to let out what was really on his mind. Or maybe, he was delusional enough to believe their letters would be eavesdropped.
He always acted as if he was walking on thin ice, as if he was going to be demoted, or even assassinated at any moment.
The door slid open, and Tamiko came back with a letter on the tray. "Madam, a new letter. And the mailman said you need to read it now."
Said letter was a piece of note twice folded in the middle, so she just spread it open. And she frowned.
"Can we talk? I have information regarding Yuusaku. I am at the front door."
That was strange, since Miss Kaeko had never sent messengers. Perhaps it's her maid.
"Please, let her in."
Tamiko nodded, "Yes, madam. But that's a young mister."
That's even more curious. Maybe there's going to be some actions real soon. Finally, she smiled, Yuusaku will be free.
She didn't hesitate before hurrying Tamiko to set up the tea room to invite the guest in. This house might not have strict rules like more traditional families, but it was better not to be impudent. She changed into a more formal gown before stepped in.
And she froze.
Before her sat on the futon was a young man in an army uniform, hair cut short and neat like any other soldiers. He was drinking from the teacup, and on hearing her footsteps, he looked upwards.
She'd never met him, but the face was all too familiar.
For a moment, she was struck with so many sick ideas that her brain started to sting. Who is he? She slowly came to realize this could not be a coincidence. Relatives? But she had never met this person in family gatherings. And why is he in the army? And why…why did he happen to be the one to carry the messages?
She wanted to convince herself that there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation, but that couldn’t fool her heartbeats from rapidly accelerating. Thump, thump, THUMP, it struck as like in a Noh recital, except her head was the taiko on the center stage.
Just then, entered the waki character. “Madam?” Tamiko was holding a tray of wagashi. She looked a little confused.
Hiro rested her eyes for a few seconds, and then opened with a new vigor. “Please, have some mochi, young mister…?”
The young guest also seemed just snapped out of a dream. He climbed out of the futon, bowed deeply and started to spill the honorifics. "Sorry about my manner, Mrs. Hanazawa. It's a great honor to finally meet you, and sorry again for taking up your time."
Then he straightened up to introduce himself. "I'm Private Ogata from the seventh regiment."
And Hiro lost her words again. That was a family name she had seen before. Many times.
When they were newlyweds, the household of Hanazawa was kept by old Okano. His eyesight was getting worse, so Hiro took his job to look after the account books. There were always some small remittances to a certain name, and she couldn't understand back then.
"Ah, the young master had a few debts to pay. Juvenile misconduct, you see." That's how the old housekeeper explained. He didn't elaborate on that, and Hiro knew from experiences of dealing with entangled family matters that she shouldn't pursue it any further.
And the misconduct himself had come to her house today.
Hiro smiled, in good faith. Koujirou was then on the lookout for a strong family to tie the knot with. She wasn't anything special, and any of the girls in her family would suffice. After all those years, it had stopped to feel like a betrayal or anything that could hurt her anymore, but a relief. She was not making things up, or being paranoia, like the hundreds of times Koujirou was implying.
"Nice to meet you, too. Please take a seat, Private Ogata." She went to settle herself on the host's seat.
The young man didn't say much and resumed his seat. He stared at the plate for a while before shifted his attention to her.
"I understand if you have a lot of questions now, Mrs. Hanazawa."
"Yes." She diverted the topic in a casual tone. "Where are you from, Private Ogata?"
This was probably also a surprise to him, for he visibly composed for a second before replied, "I grew up in Ibaraki." A second later, "But I was born here in Tokyo."
Hiro was trying to revisit the bank statements. Where were their receiving braches…? "So your family's in Ibaraki, right?"
"No," he said, his face changing. "My grandparents had passed away, and my mother wasn't doing too well, so I got her here."
It was hard not to just burst out and ask direct questions, but she was trained to be proper under all circumstances. So she just went with the flow of the conversation.
"Is that so? But you must be living in the dormitory. Does she need company?"
It would be the sensible thing to say, showing empathy. She pushed back the thought that this was the very woman her husband had cheated with.
Were they still keeping in touch?
Then her stomach turned. She wasn't the type of jealous wife that's usually frowned upon in the traditional value. All the powerful men had their concubines, and those who claimed they didn't have were just being secretive. But if Koujirou dared to do this in broad daylight, it was pretty clear what was going on. He'd lost all respect and fear for her after he'd squeezed every bit of value out of her.
And, what if Yuusaku learned about this? He might be disgusted, being brought up in the western way. He would not like the idea.
Private Ogata replied quietly, "It's all right. She... she wasn't physically ill. It's just that she could get too sad sometimes. She actually is helping herself—my army paycheck is not enough for living expenses here, so she sews. She came to Tokyo to be a seamstress when she was young, before she…met my father, and had me. Moving back to Tokyo was actually good for her, bringing back good old memories."
So, a seamstress. She wondered how that had happened. And…she's confused. It didn't sound like anyone she might have known from—
"She sounds like a very capable woman," she smiled, looking more closely at Private Ogata.
Even though he grew up in the countryside, there's something graceful and relaxed about his movements. His complexion fair, unlike a farmer's. He sat up straight, but that could be from the military training.
It can't be from his father, she thought mockingly. The mother must be something. Too bad she didn't seem well, after what the man had left her with.
"Yes, she…she's very caring and delightful, when her condition's good." Then, he added bitterly, "but she could be delusional, the other times. She…said she wanted me to be just like my father."
Hiro watched as the young man reached out to the teacup, slowly sipping the tea as if he was nervous.
"What's your father like, then?" She asked. She couldn't help it.
"Well, the fact is," he put down the cup. "I've never met him."
"Not met… even now?" The lady of the house quickly questioned, as if she was in fear of a discovery of odious emotions.
The corner of the Private's lips curved. "No. I don't know what he's like. So I don't know what exactly did she mean, to be more like him."
It would be a shame if he became more like his father. Hiro stared at him. It wasn't as if he had to share Yuusaku's fate, growing up in Koujirou's clutch. He's free, and he seemed to be a good kid, on whom his mother could rely, even though he looked just as young as Yuusaku.
She wondered if it was like in a normal family, that they were emotionally closer. She wished her son could be as available.
And he had the courage to come to her door, to expect something from her.
"Is that why you're here?" She asked, trying not to make it sound like an accusation. "To finally meet him?"
The private visibly trembled, and he stuttered, "I…I didn't mean…"
"That's fine." Hiro looked at him. She could understand. It wasn't the children's fault, anyway. "He's not in Tokyo. You'll have to find another time."
Although, to her surprise, the young man shook his head firmly. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but it's not why I'm here. I'm here because of Lt. Hanazawa."
Hiro frowned at his words. She had already assumed that the visit had nothing to do with her little plan to get Yuusaku out of the military, since everything till now was about the young man himself.
The private continued, "Well, something had happened. I had never seen Lt. Hanazawa in person until yesterday. "
Hearing this, her heart almost lurched into her mouth. Did Yuusaku find out the truth? She could almost picture his reactions.
"Look, I shouldn't be telling you this, but…" The young man hesitated, his tone oddly sheepish. "I was there when someone… interfered with your plan." He swallowed hard.
Hiro studied the micro shift on the private face, trying to comprehend.
And just like that, she understood. Yes, she did understand. This young man was Yuusaku's brother. Koujirou's son. Even if illegitimate, he was still his father's blood. That meant he carried the same innate wretchedness, the same cruel nature. And the unspoken rule of traditional society, that any son could be an heir. If Yuusaku were out of the picture… he could reclaim his rightful place.
She would loathe seeing another young man lost to that path. But then again—it wouldn't be her son. Let him chase whatever hollow prize he sought. Yuusaku would remain safe and hers.
On basis of that, they could become allies.
So she exhaled, inaudibly. She just loved her son too much, that any sacrifice would suffice. And the Private… surely he'd be pleased with the outcome. Wouldn't he?
"I understand," she said smoothly. "My contacts mentioned… interference with the match-up. What exactly went wrong?"
Private Ogata remained silent for a moment. "No... nothing went wrong, per se." His voice was low, "Someone had procured a look-alike for the Lieutenant, but... the ruse fell apart. My team and I moved to intercept."
A weighted pause, and then his voice was getting even quieter, "Yet we weren't the ones who ended it. Yuusaku was already there." The name hung in the air like a blade. "He said—quite plainly—that he refused the marriage himself."
"What—why—" Hiro was stunned. Yuusaku didn't want it?
Then, like a shadow passing overhead, the truth crashed down on her. All those years of raising him—she had tried to mold him into someone righteous, just, the man she might have been, had she been born a boy. She had believed, at the very least, they shared that quiet rebellion against his father's corruption.
But now—had he truly desired it all along?
A chill prickled her skin. To her, he would forever be her little boy, soft and untainted. But that innocence—was it real, or merely a mother's delusion? She had never truly known what lurked in his heart. He had grown up to be a man. He had been marinated in the same poison of his father and the fathers of fathers. That could change a person. And she was just a mother. Just a conceited woman who thought she could fight against it, with her own selfish reason to make choices for him.
Her ears caught the fragmented murmurs of Private Ogata once more.
"...Then he said he'd talk with me again later. His tone was so... unsettling, it made me uneasy."
Hiro didn't know their son could be like that. But after all, a person could be many things. She didn't know what her son would do if he found out he had a half-brother. Would he be angry because he had been deceived? Would he actually... like the idea?
Yet the Private continued. "Later, Lt. Tsurumi told me the whole story." His gaze shifted cautiously to Hiro, eyes brimming with a sorrow she couldn't comprehend—as if he were holding back something devastating. "He told me that years ago, he carried out a critical mission... one that changed everything. He made me swear not to speak of it."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't."
A sudden, inexplicable resolve hardened her voice to ice. She wanted no part in the military's tangled affairs. Yet when her eyes fell upon the pitiable young man before her, gazing at her with such desperate hope. Something made her relent, just slightly.
She sighed, "Look, young man," The frost in her tone thawing to weary warmth, "you seem such a honest person. But why entangle yourself in these quarrels?" She studied his face, then added, "I thank you for telling me all this, but—" she was about to dismiss him, raising a hand.
"—No, no, please listen to me!" He interrupted urgently, then caught himself, realising that he was being loud and rude, that the maids were knocking on the doors to check if everything was all right.
"Sorry, but..." he lowered his voice again, "Madam, don't you realize? It would be dangerous for Yuusaku. I... I didn't realize why the lieutenant had been keeping me around all these years, until now. He's a resourceful man, and he may be nice, but those niceties didn't come for free. He..." He sighed, "I'm not very bright, but I could tell, he keeps me around so someday he could use me against…the Hanazawas. I just don't want…to hurt…"
He spoke with difficulty, yet Hiro understood every word. She turned speechless.
She knew well how easily the best part of a human being could be ruined, how innocence could be shattered, kindness eroded. With enough temptation, even the most steadfast scholar might sell his soul to a system of murderers.
But this young man before her... Did he truly grasp the weight of his own words? Did he realize what he was giving up?
If his account held truth, then the lieutenant he spoke of must be Koujirou's political rival. All Ogata had to do was to play along, let the lieutenant's schemes unfold, and he'd gain everything now beyond his reach. And yet, he gave them all up by telling her.
How—how noble.
She had always believed such virtue had to be cultivated, patiently, meticulously, by someone who was sophisticated in the ways of both the good and the bad—especially within the vipers' nest of aristocracy. Yet here sat this boy, born into nothing but misfortune and ruin, bearing scars she could scarcely imagine... and still he refused to be corrupted.
The realization struck her like a blow. Her head bowed almost of its own accord.
Why—why couldn't he have been—?
"I understand now," she said swiftly, her voice catching. "You can't imagine what this means—to me, to us. You're truly... a kind soul. Thank you."
The young man leaned back, a quiet smile gracing his features. "Then I'm at ease. All I've ever wanted is to make my mother proud."
Hiro faltered. That couldn't be right—it didn't seem to be something Koujirou would do, if that's who he tried to become. "What do you mean?"
Sunlight pooled in his eyes as he answered, soft yet luminous. "I don't think she wishes for me to be exactly like my father... but rather, the man she imagines he could be. Responsible. Honest. I believe that's who she truly wants me to become."
A few months later, the war with the Russian Empire began, inevitably, inexorably.
Hiro prayed until her hands grew numb. The First Regiment deployed, then the Second. From fragmented news reports, she pieced together their grim progress.
Then came the day even the northern garrison regiment received marching orders. She... kind of expected it.
Yuusaku had stubbornly enlisted. Her son, the rising star of the new generation, the living copy of his father, was just as everyone had said.
On the morning of deployment, Hiro went to bid him farewell.
Yuusaku stood rigid with his rifle, his greeting colder than she'd ever known. The military had remade him—here was no trace of her boy, only Koujirou's ghost resurrected, like the day she first met him. Agitated, ambitious, and about to strike.
Hiro's smile went awry. If this was their nation's future, she wondered where they're going.
He stiffened when she reached to adjust the lapel of his officer's uniform. "Enough." His voice was indifferent. "The ship awaits."
"Listen—" She didn't retreat. "Do you remember my letters? About... what I found out?"
She meant the warnings about the lieutenant he served under, that he had to watch out for the dangerous man, even if they were on the same side of the battlefield. The good private had risked everything to let them know.
But he merely looked at her, eyes darkened, and pried her hands away.
"That traitor has been... dealt with." So soft, so casual, as if they were discussing the weather.
Hiro's breath seized. What had he—?
"Don't trouble yourself." His grin was cold and sharp, like a blade's edge. "Just remember, I am your son."
For some reason, that sounded like a threat rather than a comforting word of farewell. "And if you don't like it? That's alright." He shrugged. "I could always just be a Hanazawa."
-End-
notes: rewrite the whole thing in May！and here's my character analysis of the hiro woman, just by observing people around her:
1> her son (not in this fic, but in the actual canon) Yuusaku was a kind but weak boy. that usually comes from a mother with good nature but a bit too much ask for control
2> yuusaku's tall af. and dadman doesn't look so, so it must be from her. and a demure japanese woman isn't supposed to be that tall
3> her husband's actually kind of scared of her, the way he refused to keep a mistress — even it wasn't like an uncommon thing in meiji era
4> again, according to the comic, she could do something drastic to protect her boy, even before asking if he actually wanted that way
and a few observation about tome:
1> her family was kind of rich, at least well-to-do— i don't think a poor peasant family could afford stringfish nabu everyday, or allow a kiddie to waste bullets
2> why would that kind of girl become a prostitute? i don't think she just decided to go to tokyo to do sex work, lolz. something bad must have happened that she had to do something beside a day job
3> i make her a seamstress because it's a job that required steady hands and sharp eyes, something that could be inherited from her dad (he taught kiddie hyakunosuke how to shoot so i guess that's an ogata family thing) and passed down to her son. also in the comics she always dressed well, and kimonos were/are EXPENSIVE. i just assume she made those herself.
4> she's likely to be the only child. for hyakunosuke didn't have any other relatives. then it made sense that why she went to tokyo, and why she went mad — she had some ambitions. and koujirou had brought her hope, that she could become some respectable lady. and when it didn't go her way — well, you see how her son was coping.
and then, hyakunosuke/yuusaku, nature or nuture — i had thought about a lot. would the nekoman be any better if he was raised up in a loving family? but the question itself was...wrong. the hanazawa family wasn't necessarily happy. darn, the dad cheated when he's likely just got married. and the ogata family wasn't necessarily unhappy. grandparents taking care their children, it wasn't a complicated situation. i've seen enough orphaned children grew up alright, and they grew up even sooner, becoming the caretaker when their grandparents were growing old. it wasn't even rare in golden kamuy — see asirpa? i hate to say someone could be fundamentally wrong just because it's in their DNA, but... mental illness could be a genetic disease. or paranoia. or character flaws. even when not grew up with tome, hyakunosuke could be effected. and with koujirou besides him, that could be even worse. man, can you believe how satisfied dadman would be, finally got the perfect son???
on the other hand, yuusaku — i do believe a harsher environment would be better for him. he's indecisive, cold-feeted — but i think that would not happen, if he had to be strong to keep a family together. he would be a bit like a pre-war sugimoto, just a simple guy who joined the army to have some white rice. and i think it's a rare case for any child to come up with the idea to poison their mom at all, so yeah, tome lived. and since she was given a purpose — going to tokyo, accompanying her son, her condition would be much better. i just hate to think what would happen in this AU... maybe the "Yuusaku" didn't really snap "Ogata"s neck, just threw him into the ocean in a bag and he miraculously escaped, and by that dodging a war.
one more thing: why didn't hiro recognize her son? well, let me explain. first, environment could change how you look. growing up in the countryside and everyday stringfish hotpot could change a man's feature, so in this timeline yuusaku could look a bit different, more of an honest farmboy. secondly, i did imply hiro had a bit self-loathe. she would avoid mirrors. and back then it's not like you see yourself on social medias everyday... then the last, i think it would still be a bit improper at that time to get too close to an opposite sex, although they could sit and talk, they would probs remain some distance.
and yet another thing: would gold chase still happen in this AU? my answer is: yes, nothing critical about the gold had changed. although, i doubt koujirou would die, so hyakunosuke would probably take the "koito" role. although he would be an entirely different person — not the sad emo boy the internet adore so much, but the kind you would actually know and hate. not a hater, i just make logical reasoning.
