After hours of riding on horseback, Kazama slowed down, pulling
the reins tight, and halting in front of a heavily wooded area. He
pulled back some branches, clearing a way for him and Chizuru and
revealing a set of familiar stairs that led to an entrance.
Chizuru’s heart pinched with each step and a breeze of nostalgia
blew against her cheek like a kiss from a past she wanted to
remember.
“These are the remains of Yukimura Village, Chizuru—the once
thriving and beautiful land burned by greedy humans who wanted our
Oni powers,” Kazama stated, pouring his flask of sake over an
ash-covered area.
Kazama continued the story, his tone changing from remorse to
indignant while Chizuru listened and wept, shedding a tear for each
person involved—for her parents who died with peace in their
hearts, for her twin brother who was now lost in rage, for her
adoptive father consumed with so much hate and vengeance, and for the
humans caught in this endless war where the winning side will have
the most headstones in their graveyard.
There are a lot of people outside of Japan who are aware of the Bakumatsu through Rurouni Kenshin and various Shinsengumi works. While I continue my recaps of “Yae no Sakura”, I thought I ought to do a context piece on the period since it’s complicated even for Japanese people to follow. After all, ideologies get muddled and completely reversed and players change sides halfway through the game. At the end of the day, the Meiji Restoration was about Japan’s position on the international stage and a struggle for power as to who should lead the country. Disclaimer: I am a complete Aizu fangirl and have been for over fifteen years, but I do not dislike the Ishin Shishi. (Hence my love for their Gintama counterparts.)
Above is the most amazing picture of the Bakumatsu period that it almost seems too good to be true. [Source with larger image and names] It was taken in 1867, only a year before the Meiji Restoration, and is a picture of Guido Verbeck (one of Japan’s most important and influential foreign advisors back in the day) surrounded by such luminaries as Sakamoto Ryoma (43), Katsu Kaishu (1), Saigo Takamori (13), Katsura Kogoro (35), Okubo Toshimichi (12), Takasugi Shinsaku (32), Ito Hirobumi (9), and no less than the future Meiji Emperor (40). [go to the site to see the chart]
More after the jump: despite the length of the post, it is a ‘brief’ backgrounder and I know Japanese history buffs will have complaints about my over-simplication of complex issues. Links galore for more information.
by impracticaldemon for @nollatooru ~ from Your HakuSanta
fandom: Hakuouki words: 1500 (laugh track)(oops, no) ~ 5100 words read also on: AO3 | FFN[added December 27, 2018]
Author’s Note: This story is intended to take place in the winter after my story Do As I Say (also for nollatooru, so this isn’t just a shameless self-reference). I was thinking December 1865, which could work; however, although Itou and his faction joined the Shinsengumi in late 1864, they are not mentioned in this story. The word count was already out of hand with the original cast alone. Nollatooru requested Hijikata, HijiChi, Okita & cats, or anyone & cats. I’ve tried to deliver. Posted first on tumblr!
It started with an absence of noise. Still half-asleep, Hijikata
turned puzzled eyes on the window screen. How odd. Judging by the light
filtering through the thick paper, it was past dawn—in fact, it was past his
usual time to get up. Today was a festival day, but that usually meant more of
a clatter, not less. There wouldn’t be captains and sub-officers nursing
hangovers until tomorrow.
He sat up reluctantly. Winter in Kyoto was cold, and he felt no
inclination to leave the warmth of his futon to go find out what could account
for the strange silence. Given the time, he’d probably missed his chance to
write, which dimmed what little enthusiasm he had for facing the chill weather,
today’s major and minor headaches—Sōji usually accounting for both—and the dinner
meeting he had with the new Sub-Comptroller of Kyoto to
discuss the Shinsengumi’s urgent need for extra rations over the winter months.
It took several moments to register that the room wasn’t cold. In
fact, it was quite pleasant, if not precisely warm. A glance at the brazier
told him that somebody had tended it during the night. The fact that he hadn’t
woken was worrisome, but he wasn’t altogether surprised. He’d recognized the
tea that Chizuru had brought him last night as Sannan’s ‘special’ blend, which
meant that it was laced with soporific. He would have objected, but the girl
had poured it with a soft smile, and murmured that “Kondō-san sent his
best regards, and would Hijikata-san please rest well this evening.” The
last time he’d refused the evil brew, Kondō had brought it himself, tricked him
into drinking it, and then refused to let him work late for a week straight.
(1)
A quick—and slightly apprehensive—look around the room gave him a
modicum of reassurance that although somebody had been in his room, it was more
likely Saitō than Sōji. He’d like to think that he’d have woken for anyone less
familiar, or less soft-footed. The whole thing was idiotic anyway—what kind of
military force gave their Vice Commander a sleeping draught?
Pairings: Established Kondo/Hijikata Rating: M Summary:
It’s simple. Peddle medicine and find purpose. But after Hijikata is
caught in a downpour that leads him right into Kondo’s arms, he realizes
things are a little more complicated than he’d like to believe. [AO3]
Tendrils of honeysuckle twisted fragrant blooms over the
outer stone wall, bringing embellishment and vitality to a modest silver nameplate
that bore the words Sato Residence. The
habitant butterflies and hummingbirds were unfazed when Kondo hurried by their earthly
paradise of flora, still impassively flitting about even when he swept beneath
the bough that had grown over the main entryway.
That wasn’t to say a proper welcome wasn’t in order,
however.
“Kat-chan!”
Kondo unclasped his hat and pulled it free with a shake of
the head, his chin immediately lifting to the woman who stood up on the porch
before him. At her side were a young girl and boy, each flailing and cheering
while jumping about in delight. “Uncle came to visit! Uncle, uncle!”
“Shh!” she hissed, swatting at the space around them. “Not
so loud!”
“Nao-chan, Gen-chan! Hello!” Kondo offered a wave to help
placate their excitement and then turned back to Nobu, his voice falling as serious
as his expression. “I’m real sorry for showing up like this without notice, but
I rushed over the moment I got your letter.”
“Oh, Kat-chan, please. Do you not see these kids right now?
You’re always welcome here.” She guided the children a few steps back to give him
room. “Come on up!”
With a nod, Kondo placed his hat and the cloth-covered box he’d
carried on the wooden floorboards, before pivoting to toe off his sandals.
“Sorry for the trouble,” he said out of polite habit (and over little voices
now chanting, “Big feet! Big feet!”),
while bounding up to join them on the porch. Within seconds, tiny arms were
tossed around his legs to deliver enthusiastic hugs. Kondo’s shoulders dipped
forward so he could place one hand atop each child’s head and he greeted them
with warmth. “Hey, you guys.” However, worry was written across his features
when he looked to Nobu again. “How is he?”
“Besides his usual stubborn self?” The words alone were
harsh but they’d been delivered with the same fondness Nobu always used when
talking of her brother. She crossed her arms and one hip leisurely swung out to
the side. “Doing better, thankfully. He’s still feverish but at least he’s
finally in bed.”
Mitsuhide
gives the impression that he is sizing up the person he is looking at.
His body language is stern and very formal, but also quite closed off, given that his arms are crossed over his chest. He is also dressed in a very formal manner, his clothing fitted to him impeccably and worn in a proper way without anything odd or out of place.
In spite of that, though, he comes off as confident in himself and his position of authority because his eye contact is very, very direct and he’s not shying away from her gaze at all. In fact, his expression is severe and his eyes are penetrating.
And yet there is a softness to his expression that is conveyed mostly in the slope of his eyebrows.They’re not so intensely sloped that he looks fierce or angry. Instead, they are furrowed in what looks to be concern instead of anger or disapproval, giving the impression that, while he takes his duty seriously, there is also an underlying thoughtfulness and kindness to his demeanor.
Given that his color scheme consists of the exact opposite colors of Nobunaga’s (blue and white vs red and black), you can make the assumption that they are counter balances to one another.
White is a “pure” color, traditionally, symbolizing things that are unblemished, so you can assume a certain amount of nobility with this character.Blue, on the other hand, has connotations of calm and serenity, someone who is normally quite objective and level-headed. It is not a passionate color, and though it sometimes denotes melancholy, more often than not it also denotes some kind of nobility, as well.
That gives the impression that Mitsuhide is noble, level-headed, formal to a fault, closed off emotionally, dutiful and responsible, and greatly concerned about his surroundings and the people he is confronted with on a day to day basis.
On the other side of the coin, there is
Nobunaga.
He is not dressed properly at all – on the contrary, he is wearing but a single layer of his kimono with his haori draped haphazardly over his shoulders, and what he is wearing is loose and revealing, giving the impression that he very much does not care what other people think about him.
Right away, this is not what we would expect of a Daimyo or one of his retainers. Unlike Mitsuhide’s proper way of presenting himself, Nobunaga cannot even bother to give anyone the respect that he himself demands and does not sit in seiza nor assume any other formal posture in front of his subordinates. This presents the image of a man who is interested in breaking traditions, not following them.
Furthermore, his posture is also decidedly relaxed, legs crossed, arm resting on his own shin, as he fidgets with a fan that he presumably keeps tucked on him.
Not only does this reinforce his devil-may-care attitude, but it makes him look playful, something further supported by the way that he’s leaning forward, towards the viewer. It shows that he’s taking an interest in them but that he is also above the situation and that whatever he’s about to say will be for his own amusement, regardless of the consequences.
Black is a very powerful color, and though often associated with “evil”, it is more often than not also a color of obscurity and uncertainty. It is an oppressive color that denotes something of inner turmoil, and coupled with passionate, angry, sensuous red, it gives the impression of someone who is explosive in nature, controlled somewhat by their whims, who is also in a state of flux.
Combined with the grin on his face and the intense, angry, slope of his eyebrows, Nobunaga comes off as both playful and predatory, like a large apex hunter on the prowl… Someone who just might enjoy playing with his food a bit too much. He’s dangerous, certainly, but interesting, as well, and someone who defies the norms and mores of the time he’s in with a single-minded and all consuming passion.
