Chapter 32
“Elyna-sensei!”
A true journey for both mind and palate! Elyna was so impressed by their dedication; the students had created their own world, slaving for hours and striving for perfection.
Wooden spears and bamboo rifles danced in the smoke created by a concealed machine. The music club played drums and all kinds of instruments to render the chaos of a battlefield; rifle shots, the steady tac-a-tac of machine guns and cannon fire.
And, right in the middle of it, Shūji and Haruki fought like demons, sporting the light blue coat of their beloved Shinsengumi.
The red Makoto flag —their motto— flapped over their heads: a herald of doom.
That the Shōgun forces were fated to lose the battle didn’t matter.
The boys led their troops with charisma and fake swords.
Elyna watched, fascinated, the students bringing history to life.
The battle went on for much longer than had been initially planned; all parties too engrossed in the power struggle to surrender. But, at last, the imperialist banners were raised by the Satsuma clan.
“Traitors to the emperor!” a loud voice called. “Sonnō jōi![10]”
The news rippled on the battlefield. And then, silence. The Shinsengumi packed and fled, led by Haruki. He dragged a staggering Shūji with him. Trapped between amusement and discomfort, Elyna turned to the Vice Principal.
What does he think of the show?
At worst, she expected a frown directed at Shūji’s exaggeration. Instead, she found him standing motionless, his face drained of all colour, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. By his side, Sarah was slowly rubbing his arm, eyebrows scrunched in worry.
Shimatta! What’s wrong?
Elyna frowned; her Vice Principal had adamantly refused to participate in the battle because he couldn’t possibly beat up his students outside the dōjō. But he had agreed to play Hijikata-san in the Republic of Ezo’s first and last elections.
Already, dozens of hands were clearing the scene for the next climactic part of the festival. The place became an anthill of activity, students milling about with Japanese efficiency.
Elyna watched Katayū retreat, his usually confident stride replaced by something haunted. Elyna felt her stomach drop. I hope he’s not sick.
The entire play depended on his commanding presence, that thunderous voice that could fill any room. Who else could possibly embody the Shinsengumi commander's fierce determination and tragic nobility?
Sarah’s hand landed on Elyna's shoulder, pulling her from her spiralling thoughts. “It will be fine, don’t worry,” she said, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I bet Makoto's just checking on his students.”
Elyna nodded, though doubt gnawed at her. The second years had created an elaborate five-room exhibition about the battles that led to the Shogunate’s downfall. No doubt Shūji and Haruki would come to play live models to impress Satsuki.
Those kids revered the Shinsengumi: to them, they were all legendary warriors. They would probably have a field day demonstrating whatever shenanigans their favourite captains had engaged in. She hoped Sano would keep them in line—namely, avoid a duel in class.
Sano… the thought sent a pang through her heart. His warmth seemed all but gone those days. Perhaps he’d taken offence the last time he’d had to hunt her down in Katayū’s office… The memory of that moment still felt surreal; it had been… charged.
Or he’s finally understood you have a crush on him. Elyna sighed; she was getting paranoid. Shedding her doubts, she allowed Sarah to drag her to the historical festival in the courtyard. The two women wandered through stalls and milling students, parents, and locals.
So much history, so much to see, to learn, to play with in the year 1868. Most students sported yukatas, some of them full kimonos, others wore western imperialist uniforms created from whatever clothes they could borrow from brothers and fathers.
Their dedication was humbling. Some of them would perform in the play bound to happen in less than an hour. The play… Could she ask without crossing personal boundaries? Surely a fellow British woman wouldn’t take offence, right?
“Hum, Sarah,” Elyna chanced. “Do you think Katayū-sensei will be all right?”
The redhead gave her a piercing look, hesitant. Then, she sighed. “The battle just rattled him, that’s all.”
Katayū, rattled by anything other than kendō or Shūji?
Elyna tried to shrug but the costume held her shoulders captive, the restrictive blouse threatening to burst at the seams. The re-enactment had unsettled her too; it felt so vivid! “Ah, it was pretty intense,” Elyna answered diplomatically, wondering what, exactly, she was missing.
Her British counterpart gave her a long thoughtful look, her eyes almost green in the afternoon light. A question danced across her face, composure wavering, as if she were weighing her words.
“Yes,” she breathed. “It was. Even more for people who might have been there.”
Elyna’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh?”
Sarah’s gaze darted around the colourful stalls; she smiled at a cluster of boys that seemed to be arguing about which Edo period game to try first.
“You know, we have a theory…”, she muttered, facing away.
The sentence was vague enough to pique Elyna’s curiosity. Shifting her little hat, only for it to return to the exact same position, she dragged her long skirts in an arc to round up a stall.
“What kind of theory?”
Sarah’s attention returned to her, a smile softening her features. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to commit me to the nuthouse… But I, and most of the guys too… we think Makoto is the reincarnation of someone who fought in the Boshin War.”
Reincarnation. The word bounced in her head like a ball, rattling her brain, her beliefs, and everything that stood in the way. Surreal. Yet, she could almost see it.
Blue haori, sharp ponytail, and katana glinting in the night. A man capable of dragging a band of masterless warriors from Edo to Kyōto, and all the way up to Hokkaidō for his beliefs. A man with enough drive to move the mountains that stood in his way, only to perish with the last samurais.
A knot formed in her throat, eyes suddenly stinging. If Katayū Makoto was a reincarnation, he could only be… “Hijikata-san,” she breathed. The vice commander of the Shinsengumi.
Beside her, Sarah wiped her cheek discreetly. “There…” her voice wavered. “You see it too, right?”
It was insane. Completely, utterly crazy. But it made so much sense. The storm he unleashed, the thunder of his voice, the sheer, pressing aura. Elyna had never pondered the idea of reincarnation before, all too happy to study religions without adhering to any of them.
That thought rattled her; reincarnation meant considering the death of people she cherished. Well, she just wasn’t ready for that. Setting her jaw, she turned to the older woman.
“I don’t quite believe in reincarnation…” Sarah’s face fell, so she added “… but it’d be… uh, nice?”
The British woman blinked in surprise before letting out a startled laugh, playfully swatting Elyna’s arm. “Well, that’s Buddhism for you, my rational friend.”
Even though religion was mostly treated as an afterthought in Japan—especially with the strange mingle of Buddhism and Shintō—reincarnation was still a fundamental principle. Better not to look down on religious beliefs in an event meant to celebrate Japan.
“A reincarnation…” Elyna mused, her gaze drifting over the festival around them. Students moved between stalls like figures from a living history book, creating a vivid image of the past.
Maybe that was what made the idea feel less impossible than it should have. But for now, there was a play to prepare. Elyna left Sarah at a dango stall to buy some skewers, and dove back into the fray.
When Katayū returned, ready to play his part, Elyna couldn’t help but start.
He wore the old uniform as if he’d been born in it, his shoulders square, the stance of a warrior.
Given the stunned gazes directed at him—more than the usual fearful peeks—she wasn’t the only one floored by the transformation.
He wore that costume like destiny itself.
Sarah’s recent words wafted through her mind, and Elyna couldn’t help but doubt. She sent him on stage with an uneasy smile; he barely nodded before squaring off his shoulders, and stealing the show.
The play unfolded in the immense gymnasium, hundreds of students, parents, visitors and potential investors watching with bated breath. In the end, Katayū-Hijikata gathered 73 votes and became the Vice Commander of the New Republic of Ezo’s army.
One last stand of the samurai before the opening of the country.
Further down the stands, Elyna finally found Sano watching the room with his usual poise. The awed smile spreading across his face as the play came to a close was worth a million pounds.
Beside him, both Shūji and Dr Sōhma observed the scene with avid eyes.
The contrast between the dishevelled boy, in his blue coat and false swords, and the elegant nurse, strict kimono and elaborate traditional hairstyle, was not as jarring as it should be.
As if a strange camaraderie had bloomed between them.
No one ignored, of course, that the new Republic of Ezo had fallen barely six months later, in June 1869.
The imperial army had prevailed, leading Hijikata to a heroic death.
But, right now, as the students played their parts and cheered, Elyna felt like the spirit of the Shinsengumi had descended to fuel them all with renewed hope.
The bushidō wasn’t dead; it infused them all.
It was magical. Transcendental, even. The past bleeding through the present like ink through paper; she could almost feel the cold of Ezo sweeping in the gymnasium.
In Japan, traditions were still alive, vivid: from the most modest festival, to a simple bow at the beginning and end of each class. It was so ingrained in their spirit, their way of life. Elyna would never get tired of it.
The procession of ‘elected’ magistrates left the set haughtily, walking to the official reception.
Officially, Elyna’s character would serve as liaison between the foreign supporters and the newly appointed Republic of Ezo.
Unofficially, Sarah had secured a few strategic visitors that might be interested in bringing investment to the school.
The culture event, with its plays and stalls, had just set the stage, shedding light on the abilities of a Vice Principal that could move mountains to accomplish his goal. Now, it was up to the adults to own the opportunity.
Mission accomplished. Now, onto the buffet to play host!