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Chapter Ten: Uncertain at the Door

The timid grey rays of budding dawn woke Tae, just as they did every morning, but it felt harder - more difficult, somehow - to wake up. She stretched, unable to suppress a groan of pleasure as she flexed her muscles all the way down to her toes, and then promptly sat up. She rubbed her eyes with two fingers, sighing away the feeble desire to succumb to her sleepiness and lay down for just a few minutes more -

And then she froze.

She was in her futon - in her futon. When did she finally go to bed? She sorted through her memories of the previous night, but couldn't remember. She frowned at the folds of her blanket. Surely there was something, even when she changed clothes -

But she hadn't. Tae stared in astonishment at her rumbled lace cuff and dark blue sleeve, unbuttoned to her elbow, then threw off the bedding.

She was dressed in her serving uniform. She hadn't changed out of her clothes from the night before, and she never did that. So then someone brought me to bed, she told herself, ignoring the stumble in her heartbeat. But who -

And then she knew.

Soujiro.

The sake. Tae winced and sniffed at the collar of her apron. Yes, she smelled like it, too. How terrible.

And then she remembered the words. Dear heaven, the words she had said to him - Tae squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back, wishing she could forget it all again.

She knew why she had gotten drunk in the first place. It was a silly, stupid reason: she kept noticing Soujiro from the corner of her eye as he sat alone at the table, with no one to converse with, and she thought, well, I should talk to him. But she knew she had to have some sort of reason to talk to him - she was still his employer and she didn't want to seem like she was talking to him for the sake of talking, even though that was sort of what she wanted to do anyway - and then somehow the idea had come into her mind that she should tell him how grateful she was that he was working at the Akabeko, and that for some reason, life had seemed more enjoyable and wonderful since he'd come -

But that wasn't how it turned out. No. No, it wasn't.

Instead the hopeless romantic in her had surfaced and she practically threw herself at him, when all he'd done was simply talk to her -

Tae shuddered and buried her face in her hands. How can I face him? she wondered, wishing belatedly that the world had ended in her sleep. How can I talk to him, knowing what I said? How can he talk to me, after I made myself such a fool out of myself - !

I'll apologize. The cool steadiness of her decision slowly spread through her like the ripples on water. I behaved badly, but I'll move on. If I continue to act professional, to be confident and never break from that strength, he will have no choice but to believe me. Perhaps he can credit my breach of character to the sake, and it can all be forgotten by New Years.

Maybe he can even forgive me.

"I will do my best," Tae said quietly, nodding to herself. And it will start, she thought, sending a measuring glance at the window, with making breakfast.

Everyone was slow to rise that morning. Tae had completely finished the miso and was considering going upstairs to announce it was ready when slowly they began to arrive. Hana came first, her hair neatly braided and bags of exhaustion under her eyes. Tsubame followed right behind, her smile bright if a little dimmed. As if on cue, Yahiko entered through the back of the kitchen, an enormous cut of beef slung over his shoulder. He dropped it heavily onto the edge of the counter and inhaled with a smile. "Smells good, Tae. Man, I am starved."

She handed him a bowl with a cynical smile. "After all you ate last night, I'm surprised you aren't still full."

He merely shrugged it off. "Hey, I'm a growing boy."

Tae just rolled her eyes.

She had been trying to watch - without trying to seem like she was watching - for Soujiro's entrance. But when he did appear, it was silently, his arrival swallowed in the rowdy talk from the others. He spoke to her left, his soft voice making her jump.

"Good morning, Tae-san."

She took a quick breath. Focus. "Soujiro-san," she greeted, turning to smile at him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." His head tilted slightly to the side, curiously. "Did you?"

That had been the wrong way to start this conversation. Tae swallowed, keeping her smile in place. "Yes, thank you. What did you think of your first Bonenkai with us?"

"It was... entertaining."

Tae felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, this wasn't going well at all. She turned away, hoping to hide the mortification and shame that she was sure she was failing to disguise. His voice had sounded - it wasn't any different from the way he normally spoke, all courteous and light, but somehow it hurt even more to hear his words spoken in that tone. And then the pause: it was... entertaining. At least she knew how he felt now. How he really felt about her display last night.

It stung, that he found her confession of love so amusing.

And it was her fault, that she had blurted it out in the first place.

He stepped around to look at her, his blue eyes blinking up into hers. "Tae-san?"

She numbly reached for a bowl and thrust it toward him. "Please," she said without looking at him, "enjoy the meal. I must tidy the main room."

She strode out into the dining room, but stopped short. She expected that she'd have to clean up the mess from the Bōnenkai - push the joined tables apart, clear up the dirty dishes, and clean up the floor, just as she did every morning after a celebration - but someone had beat her to it. Tae gaped at the sight, her surprise quickly turning to dread.

It must have been Soujiro, she thought, feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment. No one else has tidied up before.

She sensed rather than saw the subject of her thoughts emerge from the hallway to the kitchen, and looked quickly around, hoping to find something she could clean. But her orders yesterday had been carried out too well; the room was so thoroughly spotless that she could see nothing to prevent her from speaking to Soujiro.

Tae took a slow breath and straightened her shoulders. Best to get it over with now, while she could not see his face. "Soujiro-san," she said quietly, addressing the empty room. "I apologize for last night. I believe I've... tarnished your first impression of Bōnenkai, and for that I am sorry."

"What do you mean?" He asked from behind her, and she could not suppress the involuntary wince at his words.

"My actions should have been beyond reproach, regardless of how much sake I drank, and I apologize. My forwardness - " She bit down on her pride and corrected herself uncomfortably. " - I fear that my kiss may have burdened you with the idea of obligations toward affection. Please believe that you are under no such expectation, nor will you ever be. I have insulted your position here at the Akabeko and I would take back that terrible moment if I could."

Tae bit her lip. Keeping her head down she slowly angled her body towards his and bowed low. "Please," she continued without rising, "if there is any possibility of forgiveness, I would ask that you forget as much of last night as you can. It would put my mind at ease, knowing that you do not hold that memory in bitter remembrance in your heart."

There was a silence. Tae stared at the mats, her stomach churning uncomfortably. She resolved not to move until he granted her request.

She heard Soujiro's clothing rustle, as if he was clasping his hands behind his back. "You're so formal, Tae-san," he said, his airy voice giving none of his feelings away. "You weren't last night."

She cringed but didn't reply.

"Hm. I'm sorry, Tae-san, but I think I'm going to turn you down."

Her head shot up in shock. Soujiro send her a mild smile. "I don't want to forget what happened," he explained, "not even the part you're apologizing for."

Tae swallowed hard. "But... I... "

"You seem to think," he said, looking away, "that I found your behavior offensive. Actually, I'd say that the opposite is true."

She stared, unable to speak. Unable to think. After a few moments Soujiro glanced sideways at her, the corner of his lips tipping upward. "Well, shall we?"

Tae sucked in her breath. Her heart was tripping a wild rhythm and she curled her hands into the fabric of her dress, trying without success to make her erratic heartbeat slow. The world seemed to be tilting, making her feel light-headed and breathless, and she gazed at Soujiro with wide eyes wondering how exactly - what exactly -

"We?" She echoed, barely managing to make her voice audible about the roar of her pulse in her ears.

His smile widened. "Breakfast, Tae-san," he reminded her, sounding as if he was speaking to a small child. "Once Urato-san and Nizuno-san arrive, there will be none left."

Tae nodded quickly. He turned away, casting her a look that seemed to read the conflicting jumble of her thoughts and took amusement from them, and vanished into the kitchen.

Breathe in, breathe out. Tae carefully exhaled, pushing out most of her panic and excitement in the same breath. She straightened, automatically reaching down to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles in her dress.

You seem to think that I found your behavior offensive.

Actually, I'd say the opposite is true.

Tae swallowed. She would have thought she'd imagined those words but... Soujiro spoke them here, in this very room, just moments ago.

Could it be possible?

She was so unsuccessful with love - always had been. Every boy she plucked up the courage to confess to had mocked her, every man she sighed over had found another. That had always been the way of things, so she had stopped hoping. There was no point in dreaming about love if it favored everyone else - your neighbors, family, friends - and never you.

Even Kaoru, who Tae had considered the closest thing to a best friend because they were both so independent, so contrary to the ideal of a perfect feminine beauty, had found Kenshin.

So really, it was sort of ironic that someone had come along that actually returned Tae's feelings now, after all this time. Now that I am almost too old for love or romance, she thought wistfully.

And it was ironic most of all because it was Soujiro, of all people: Soujiro, who was young and handsome, with eyes as blue as a cloudless summer sky and a smile that could put you immediately at ease. Soujiro, who never became upset, who was always polite and kind to her. And yes he was a swordsman, that was true, but obviously he had a pure heart like Kenshin, and he was as skilled as Yahiko, which was saying a lot. The idea of having a swordsman as a husband was not so outdated that it had lost the power to stir Tae's blood, and she blushed, thinking about it.

It's possible, she told herself, though she still didn't quite believe it. Somehow. Somehow, there's a way that he feels... something about me.

She wasn't fool enough to let herself hope very much but it grew regardless, filling her breast with warmth and slow, unfurling joy.

Perhaps something will happen. Perhaps his feelings will turn into more. Perhaps I won't have to spend my life alone and I'll be - She caught herself before her thoughts traveled too far.

So she satisfied herself with a smile that she cast toward the kitchen doorway. Perhaps, she thought simply, and followed Soujiro out of the dining room.

Yahiko shook his head before even a single word had come from Tae's mouth. "Nope," he said, shaking his head. "Nope, whatever you're going to ask, I'm not going to do it."

Tae snapped her jaw closed, the obvious shock producing a comical look on her face. Soujiro would have laughed, except now he was committed to his role of the smooth romancer and that would ruin the effect he was trying to establish. Nizuno and Urato, however, had no such qualms and they burst into uncontrollable cackles.

"Nice one, Yahiko," Urato commented in between bouts of laughter. "She - She doesn't look as if she's ever been told no in her life."

Tae sent him a look and he sobered quickly. "I don't mind that you refuse," she said, addressing Yahiko with quiet dignity, "but can I ask why? And - how did you know I was going to ask you to run an errand for me? I didn't even say anything."

Nizuno snorted and quickly covered up the sound by clearing his throat.

"You get this look on your face. I can recognize it from a mile away." Yahiko crossed his arms. "Besides, I brought you all that meat this morning. I thought it would keep you happy for a while."

"You know as well as I do that the demands of a restaurant are constant," she replied, curling a lock of hair behind her ear. "I asked because you aren't a member of the wait staff and so you don't have other duties - "

"Hey now," Yahiko began defensively.

" - so I'll have to ask one of the others, with the hope that they will have enough time to make the errand."

"Geez, you really know how to make a guy feel guilty, don't you?" He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be silly." Tae turned away, and Soujiro caught the slight hint of a smile on her lips. She knew very well her ability of manipulation over Yahiko, and she relished it. Soujiro smirked, enjoying her amusement.

Tae looked at him, and Soujiro blinked expectantly. Yahiko was right, in one respect at least: Tae did wear a certain expression just before she asked favors of her employees. "Soujiro-san, would you mind very much?" She asked, her voice softening ever so slightly. "The tea didn't get delivered yesterday, and I like to keep a steady supply on hand."

"Of course I'll go, Tae-san," he said brightly. "I don't mind being helpful in the slightest."

"Aw, c'mon!" Yahiko groaned, shooting Soujiro an accusatory glare.

"Thank you, Soujiro-san. You are always so kind - "

"Alright, alright," Yahiko snapped irritably. He scrubbed a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed. "I get it, already. I'll go."

"How generous of you, but Soujiro-san has already volunteered to go." She motioned for Soujiro to follow her away from the kitchen, ignoring Yahiko's loud moan and the snickers coming from the two chefs. "I've already paid for half of the delivery," Tae explained once they were alone, "so I'll give you the rest of the money for when you pick the rest of it up. Since you're a new face, they may try to convince you to pay more than was agreed - they usually do, unless they see that you're firm with them. That's why I can't send Tsubame - but I know you won't let them get away with it. Do you know where to go? Good, so you won't get lost..."

And he didn't get lost. In fact, his knowledge of the city of Tokyo was growing day by day. It helped that his sense of direction had never steered him wrong and that he remembered the routes he had taken as Shishio's scout, and then a year later when he had visited the Akabeko. Just as he had learned the side streets and shaded paths of Kyoto, he was beginning to memorize the bridged shortcuts, twisting alleys and busy thoroughfares of the new government's capitol city. So it was with no surprise that he easily found the squat, rather garishly-painted building where Tae's supply of tea came from. The salesman did try to convince him that he hadn't brought enough money, but Soujiro's constant smile unnerved him after a while , and the salesman pretended to cave with reluctance. He even threw in a small box of sakurayu, when Soujiro commented, with a sly side glance, that his employer favored it most of all.

He was pleased with his success, and was even wishing that there were more of a challenge here, in his new life - what would his old companions have said to see him now, just five years later, playing delivery boy for a sukiyaki restaurant? - when he felt something. Soujiro paused in the middle of the street. He was only a few blocks from the Akabeko, but among all the mundane ki he absently sorted through in every waking moment, there was one he recognized. It burned bright against the background of his mind, teasing him, mocking him with its presence -

The Battousai.

Before Soujiro knew it, he was running. He flew through the snow, darting between the groups of late-afternoon shoppers and wheeling around the tight street corners and toward the restaurant. He slowed a little as he approached the main street where the Akabeko was situated and, sensing that Himura was nearby, leaned around the corner of a building to look.

The Battousai was standing outside, talking to Tae.

Soujiro quickly drew back so he was safely out of view, his Western shoes gracelessly slipping a little in the melting snow. He let out his breath in a long sigh, watching as it clouded in the golden air.

So, the Battousai has come to the Akabeko. Even with a wife as villainous as the chefs' tales claimed, Soujiro had been expecting Himura to show up sooner or later. Surely the news that Tae's new waiter, 'Soujiro', would have been enough to draw him out of reclusion, but that hadn't been the case. Not even the information about the duel with Yahiko, or that 'Soujiro' had spent time with the Battousai's child had been enough to lure him to investigate.

So why now? Soujiro wondered.

He checked to make sure his ki was properly suppressed - to be sure that the shock at seeing Himura hadn't unraveled his control - and was pleased to find it as absent as before. Years of training and willpower could not be cast off so easily, it seemed, and he smiled at himself before glancing toward the street.

Careful to keep to crate of tea leaves out of the way, he slowly peered around the edge until he could see the Battousai. The red-haired man - his hair cut surprisingly short, just as Soujiro had heard - was shrugging, his mouth moving with words that were too far soft for Soujiro to hear. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of a dark blue jacket, his very appearance giving an allusion of peace and contentment. But you and I know better, don't we, Battousai? Soujiro thought, examining the soft flicker of Himura's ki. It pulsed, slow and warm, but like a small candle flame it had the capacity for so much more - for power and destruction, for transforming itself into something else entirely. You look no more like a killer with godlike speed than I do, he thought, gazing at Himura's gentle smile. It seems that you, too, have kept your skills in misdirection and disguise.

Perhaps your apparent disinterest in me was just an act, as well. Soujiro narrowed his eyes, inspecting Kenshin as if for some outward sign of duplicity. Did you guess that I had expected your arrival and so delayed it, waiting until my novelty had worn off to show yourself? Perhaps Yahiko told you I was running an errand so you've come to lay in wait for my return? Are you really talking with Tae, or are you even now searching in vain for my ki? How much of the truth do you suspect, Himura?

Is this a trial of wits, or is this just simple chance? No. Chance has its own form of humor, but it has never been kind. Your coming cannot simply be coincidence. You are not really as straight-forward as you seem.

Or... are you? Soujiro blinked, a familiar shadow of uncertainty crossing his mind. He remembered his last fight with the Battousai deep within Mount Hiei, and the words that had initiated the first crack in Soujiro's absolute confidence in Shishio-san. Himura's words had been spoken with the desperation of a swordsman agonized by pain, wearied by exhaustion, and determined with every fiber of his being to right some perceived moral wrong that only he could accomplish. Soujiro had heard all that and scoffed, discarding him as yet another enemy, indistinguishable from all the others he had killed except for the disappointing fact that the legendary Battousai was, yet again, not living up to the whispered tales about him.

But those words, those damn words - they had held an unmistakable ring of truth that Soujiro couldn't ignore. And when he looked into Himura's face, he had seen something like... honesty. It shook him.

He thought about that often. Alone in the mountains, with only his thoughts as his constant companions, he had dissected the moments of their last fight in his mind until he barely knew what was memory or conjecture. Through it all, he could still see the look on Himura's face and one question still remained.

Did you mean it?

It seemed silly in his mind now, since the man himself was standing a few buildings away, still speaking to Tae. The question sounded like a hesitant child's query when, funnily enough, it never had when he was stretched out on his back, gazing at the stars. Through all his wanderings, through all those years, he had wondered.

Which are you, Himura? Soujiro stared at the Battousai's profile, almost hoping he might turn and answer his long-buried questions. Are you the slayer of men, or the rurouni who petitioned for peace? And what visage do you wear now? The truth, or the lie?

Suddenly he felt someone approach and whipped around, the box of tea held offensively in front of him. A few feet away, a bland-faced man blinked at him in surprise for a moment. "Oh, er, I guess I startled you," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry."

"You didn't," Soujiro replied, but it was almost true. He stifled his annoyance and glanced at the man, taking in his pale Western-style uniform. "You're a mail carrier?" He asked, looking back at him for confirmation.

"Yeah, or trying to be." He scratched his head, looking a little miffed. "I don't think I know where I'm going."

"Oh?"

"I'm actually from Fukushima. The damn government assigned me down here to provide more 'equalization,' whatever the hell that means. I can't find the place I'm supposed to deliver this to."

Soujiro peered at the square, tightly-folded letter in the courier's hand. It looked like it had seen some sort of adventure itself; the corners were bent and water drops had smeared the ink, nearly blotting out the characters of the addressee. "And I thought a government-run postal system was supposed to make mail delivery more efficient," he commented, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

"Laugh all you want, but it's the Meiji government's fault, not mine." He scowled down at the blurred words. "I can only make out the given name, but barely. Somebody Tae - "

Faster than the man could blink, Soujiro's hand snatched up the flimsy note. "Sekihara Tae," he confirmed, tilting it towards the light. "Barely legible, but it's there."

"Hey!" The man screeched, his voice peaking at the end. "That's my - !"

"You're very fortunate, because I happen to know her." He pulled it out of reach of the mail carrier's grabby hands. "I'm actually on my way to see her now. I'll deliver it for you, of course."

"You - You will?" His hands, almost comically, instantly dropped to his sides. He gaped at Soujiro. "Yeah, okay, great. But..."

"Tae-san will have the letter before evening."

But the man didn't seem concerned whether the letter found its proper owner or not. His mouth tilted to the side in a half frown. "But - But how did you - out of my hands -"

"Quick reflexes," he said airily, slipping the letter in his back pocket. He could see that the man wasn't satisfied, so he added, "I work at a restaurant, and you'd be surprised with the skills you pick up there."

"...right. No kidding." He stared at Soujiro, clearly trying to decide whether he was telling the truth or not. After a moment he shrugged and turned away. "Alright, thanks."

Soujiro waited until the man disappeared into the next street before leaning around the corner to look for the Battousai. During the conversation he had felt Himura's ki grow smaller, and now he could see that his senses were correct; the only feature that identified Himura from the dark, snow-touched buildings at the end of the street was the bright color of his fiery hair. Judging their distance to be wide enough that Himura would not happen to recognize him if he looked back, Soujiro stepped out and headed toward the Akabeko.

Tae was standing just inside the door, giving instructions to Tae when Soujiro arrived. "Put more water over the fire for the tea. Has Yahiko finished washing all the dishes?"

"Just about, Tae-san." Tsubame took Tae's jacket and folded it over her arm. "He isn't complaining as much as he usually does."

"No? That's a change."

"But Nizuno-san and Urato-san are helping. I suppose they're taking pity on him." She giggled, and then noticed Soujiro slipping out of his shoes. "Soujiro-san, welcome back! Could I take your coat, too? I'm going to hang them by the back door."

"Sure," he replied, smiling as Tae turned to look at him. He held out the box, and she took it as he shrugged out of his quilted jacket.

"Yes, welcome back, Soujiro-san," Tae said. "You've come back before the dinner shift, so thank you."

"But you missed Kenshin-san!" Tsubame frowned, taking his coat and adding it to Tae's. "And only by a few minutes, too!"

"Oh? The infamous Himura Kenshin?" Soujiro asked in mock surprise, turning to Tae for an explanation.

She shook her head, her voice amiable. "He wasn't here for more than five minutes," she said, "though he did ask if you were here."

Soujiro's heart skipped a little in his chest. It was more of an overt move than he was expecting, even for Himura. But then, he himself had seen that the Battousai could be an aggressive opponent if he wanted to be. He spoke his next words with care. "Ah. It's a pity that I missed him."

"He did say he wanted to meet you," Tae admitted, and Soujiro felt his lips curve upwards in a smile. "I reminded him that New Years was in a few days, but that was actually the reason that he stopped by - to tell me in person that his family wouldn't be coming to the celebration."

So there would be more stealth on the Battousai's part, then. It was a complex game he was playing - part assertive, part deceptive. Soujiro supposed he wasn't surprised that Himura wouldn't make a New Years appearance - and yet, strangely, he felt a small part of him relax at the news.

Tsubame sighed. "That's too bad," she said. "I was hoping I'd get to see little Shinta before the year is out, but I suppose I'm not surprised."

"Kaoru is Kaoru," Tae murmured.

She nodded glumly and shuffled off.

Tae held out the box of tea for Soujiro to take back, but Soujiro held up a hand. "Sorry, Tae-san, I almost forgot..." He pulled out the letter and presented it to her proudly. "I met a mail carrier on my way back, and I told him I would deliver this to you."

She peered at the blotted words with a dubious frown. "I can barely read it. I'm amazed it made it here at all." Soujiro traded her the box for the note and she studied it, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "It looks like it barely did make it here," she observed quietly.

"I suppose the contents are important, since it worked so hard to survive intact," he commented, shifting the box higher up in his arms.

"I suppose so," she agreed, looking up at him. She smiled warmly. "Thank you for ensuring its safe arrival, Soujiro-san. I am very grateful."

"Of course," he said, because what else could he say? So he headed off towards the kitchen, leaving her alone to read the letter.

And she must have read it, because nothing else could have changed her mood that quickly. Barely twenty minutes later, when the first guests arrived - Westerners, who were used to eating at a much earlier time - she poked her head into the kitchen to let Tsubame know she had customers, and her eyes were red. It was as if she was crying - no, still crying, Soujiro corrected himself, staring at her. Her eyes were filled with tears.

"Tae-san, what's the matter?" Tsubame asked, sounding horrified.

"N-Nothing." Her voice, though pitched higher with pretend cheer, was shaking. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." This from Nizuno.

Tae forced a painful smile. "I'll - I'll be alright."

Soujiro later supposed that he should have spoken with more tact. At the time, though, he thought that pinpointing the problem aloud would help, and asked, "it was the letter, wasn't it?"

Tae didn't speak, but her face changed. She paled first, then her cheeks flushed as fresh tears spilled out. She bit her lip and braced her hand against the door frame. "I - I'm sorry," she gasped, looking away. "I - I'm not... Yahiko, could you stand in as host this evening?"

Yahiko's mouth popped open. "Uh... yeah, I mean... I guess I could."

Tae nodded once, satisfied, and shut her eyes. She pressed her face into her hand and turned away. "I'm going to my room," she mumbled. Soujiro half-expected her to stumble out, but her footsteps were as silent and sure as ever. Everyone stared after her, shocked into silence.

Tsubame, ever the dutiful one, broke it first. "I suppose I'd better..." she murmured, and hurried out of the kitchen to see to her table.

Yahiko slowly followed, his words trailing off. "I guess I'd... yeah..."

There was another silence after they left.

"Hell," Urato groaned, pushing his hand through his hair. "What was that about?"

Nizuno looked pointedly at Soujiro. "What did you mean about the 'letter?'"

"She got a letter when I returned with the tea," he explained. Hana and the two chefs were looking at him expectantly, varying degrees of worry on their faces. "I left her to open it, but I haven't seen her until now. I suppose she's reacting to whatever was in the letter."

"Do you know who it was from?"

"No."

Nizuno nodded, looking like he hadn't expected much else. Urato reluctantly went back to sharpening a small knife on a stone and Hana wordlessly went out to survey the main floor. Soujiro went to the kitchen doorway and looked toward the staircase that led to the second floor and Tae's room. He considered trailing Tae and asking what the matter was - he'd probably get the answer, regardless of Tae's current distress - but then another group of Western guests arrived, and it was his turn to wait on them.

The strangest part, Soujiro supposed, wasn't that Tae was sad, or that the letter itself had made Tae sad. She was already more susceptible to emotional upheaval since she was female, and her ki had testified to that - rising and dropping so suddenly and so violently that it almost made him feel ill. But everyone else had reacted as if Tae had never withdrawn from her hostess responsibilities, so that alone was interesting. But besides that was the absolute transparency of the mask she usually wore. Many times, Soujiro had recognized that her control over her outward appearance and behavior was so strong that it nearly matched his own. She had stood firm in many situations - the incident with the little girl, particularly - where he had almost fallen apart. So what had happened?

What did the letter say that it had shaken her so badly?

He intended to find out.

A/N: Apologies for the cliffhanger. But I've got part of the chapter written already, so hopefully the next chapter won't be too long in coming.

History of postal service in Japan: Japan's always been pretty good with mail - they've had a postal system up and running ever since the middle of the 1600's, at least. In the Meiji Era, Maejima Hisoka established a public post and introduced stamps, and generally helped to make it more Western. The government took more control of the delivery of mail (by assigning mail deliverers and creating districts for delivery), but prompt delivery was always sidelined by the weather. Things like storms, earthquakes, and fire helped delay and even loose pieces of mail, so the reliability of it was always a bit of a hit-or-miss.

Thank you for reading! Please review if you enjoyed it! :)