Chapter 51
Traditions
The restaurant was the epitome of tradition, a place where past centuries were still vivid. Huge beams stretched overhead and paper screens partitioned private areas. The scents were familiar, reminding Kazuki of days spent practising calligraphy with a cup of green tea steaming by.
An attendant led them to a secluded table and left with a respectful bow. Elyna gasped softly at the sight of the lacquered wood. Despite the restrictive kimono, she settled in the seiza position gracefully. Her eyes sparkled as she drank in the traditional setting.
“This place looks out of time,” she murmured.
Kazuki knelt in front of her, satisfied. “Do you like it?”
Elyna nodded happily.
More surprises to come, my golden lady.
When their courses arrived, her awed expression said it all. The display of traditional fare was a festival; winter vegetables carved into flowers, slices of gleaming sashimi and a few broths in ceramic bowls. The tableware added a touch of colour, each dish carefully painted.
A waiter poured them both a cup of sencha tea. Around them, conversations were muted. Elyna lifted her teacup with both hands, the gesture reverent as she took a whiff. Kazuki watched, mesmerised, as she sipped it with careful attention.
He had never met someone so adamant to unlock the secret of his culture.
For a moment, they both loaded their plates, playing a game of guessing as Elyna’s questions kept firing.
Suddenly, her chopsticks stopped above a beautifully carved flower of pickled radish.
“This is so beautiful that I feel bad eating it,” she mused, almost sorrowful.
Then her curiosity won over. “It is daikon radish?”
His lips quirked. “Hai. They say Hijikata Toshizō loved it so much that he once left a friend’s house with a full bucket of it,” Kazuki replied, amused.
She burst into laughter. “A bucket? I can see the famous vice-commander of the Shinsengumi, running away with stolen radishes.”
Her mirth was so infectious he couldn’t help but grin. “History’s most dignified vegetable thief,” he confirmed. Elyna’s expression suddenly turned thoughtful. “You know Sarah told me something strange the other day.”
Kazuki’s eyebrows rose. “Strange how?”
She seemed to ponder on her words for a moment, blue eyes assessing. Does she fear my reaction? Kazuki braced himself for the most ridiculous claim. But what came next only sent a wave of nostalgia in his gut. “She thinks Katayū-sensei is the reincarnation of Hijikata Toshizō.”
Kazuki took a long draught of his cooling tea, wondering what to reveal.
The similarities between the Oni no Fukuchō and Makoto were uncanny.
That fierce dedication, his almost supernatural skill with a sword and the way he sometimes spoke about the past as if he’d lived through it—especially when drunk.
Was it all wishful thinking? To a Westerner, it might sound not only presumptuous, but also pure fantasy. What are the probabilities, really?
A shiver ran up his spine as the plain truth rolled over him. “We’ve always wondered,” he said carefully. “Does it seem crazy?”
“It should,” Elyna murmured, her eyes searching for a truth that kept escaping. “But it doesn’t feel like it is. Hey, is that why he’s named Makoto? That would be pretty ironic, wouldn’t it?”
Makoto — 誠. The Shinsengumi’s motto. Their guiding principle burnt into a battle flag. Sincerity. Loyalty unto death. Hijikata Toshizō had carried that banner to the end.
Kazuki’s fingers tightened on his teacup, seeking its warmth. The restaurant hummed quietly around them, distant conversations and the sound of a Koto playing in the background.
“You know, names aren’t given by chance in Japan,” he said, tracing an invisible character on the lacquered table. “There’s this whole divination system, the seimei handan, where you analyse the kanji strokes.”
Elyna tilted forward, looking mightily interested. “Really?”
Kazuki couldn’t contain a smile at her enthusiasm. “Hai. Every line carries a certain weight, and the whole stroke count, including family name, reveals destiny.” He paused, meeting her eyes. That Katayū Makoto bore that fateful name was a sign, not random irony.
For a moment, Elyna seemed to mull over the idea. “Is that what you’ll do when you … have children? Before you name them?”
The question caught him off-guard. It felt like she was trying to understand the shape of his future, to see what traditions he’d carry forward…
She sat across from him in that pale kimono that made her lovelier than a watercolour painting, the kanzashi gleaming in her hair like a pledge, and she was asking about his children.
Perhaps trying to find if she had a chance to fit into that picture.
Am I reading too much into this? But will I run a seimei handan for my kids? Totally.
“Yeah,” he managed. “Yeah, I probably will, even though I won’t let the practice decide.”
“That’s…” She hesitated, toying with her chopsticks. She looked sceptical, or too polite to rebuke him.
“It matters, you know?” he added, almost defensive. “What you call someone. What meaning you give them from the very beginning.”
Elyna tensed slightly; he chastised himself at once. “Yes,” she finally nodded. “Yes, it does. Even though we don’t have brush strokes, we have etymology. And I still don’t understand how parents can name their kids ‘pain’ or ‘blind’.”
Kazuki blinked; he had not expected her to agree. Let alone quote some unfortunate significations. “What?”
“Dolores. Cecilia,” she quoted, folding a finger for each name. “And many others. Those are beautiful names, but the meaning behind it… I don’t know if my parents brainstormed on the significance of my name, but I’m glad it came from Helen.”
“The most beautiful lady of the world, or so they say.”
“After Aphrodite,” she shushed him.
Kazuki chuckled, his chest loosening. He’d feared her judgement, half-expected her to find his beliefs superstitious, another cultural gap to bridge. Instead, Elyna had a strong opinion of her own, one that aligned with his. She’s a linguist, what did you expect?
“Listen.” He set down his teacup. “I ran that analysis on all the major Shinsengumi members awhile back.”
Not so long ago, when life lost its spark and I was desperately scrambling for meaning.
“Did you find anything interesting?” she asked, genuinely curious.
His gaze landed upon one of the ancient ceramic bowls, the type of tableware the Shinsengumi might have dined with.
“I did.” A weight settled on his chest; this wasn’t a romantic conversation at all. But Elyna was a master at pushing him in a corner. “All the ones who died young? It was right there in their names, written into the strokes they chose for themselves at their coming-of-age ceremony.”
“The coming of age…”, she mused. Then her eyes lit up. “Genpuku?”
He nodded, watching her blue eyes widen. “Wow. That’s … amazing, and terrifying.”
Kazuki reached for the teapot, if only to keep his hands busy. “Pretty much, yeah.”
As he poured for them both, Elyna watched him over the rim of her cup. Studying. Assessing. “What does yours say?” she finally asked, voice quiet.
The question hung between them, delicate as the steam rising from their tea. He set the pot down carefully, buying himself a moment. “It says…” He tried to keep a casual tone. And failed. “…that relationships aren’t always easy for me.”
Elyna’s expression shifted in concern, but she only pursed her lips.
“Harmony and hope.” He traced the kanji on the table with his finger. “That’s what my name means. 和希—Kazuki. My father picked them, but my mother wanted it written differently because the stroke count was better. More auspicious.”
“But he refused?” Elyna prompted gently.
Kazuki nodded. “He said a little adversity makes people stronger. That I’d carry harmony and hope regardless of what the numbers predicted.”
Silence settled between them, comfortable but weighted. Eventually, Elyna’s features softened. “You do,” she said quietly. “Carry them, I mean. Harmony and hope. You bring it everywhere you go.”
Relief unfurled in his chest, shortly followed by gratitude. He always strived to be a peacemaker, but her approval meant much more than success; she’d seen the core of him, and loved it.
She tilted her head then, thoughtful. “Do you regret it?”
Kazuki froze, dread descending upon him. Does she know about…? Did anyone tell her?
Kazuki exhaled slowly to keep his heartbeat in check. “Regret what?” he retorted a little too quickly. Elyna’s brow furrowed slightly before she explained. “That your father didn’t listen to your mother?”
The question hit deeper than she probably intended. Kazuki’s thoughts immediately went to places he didn’t want to examine. Was he stronger now? Better? Or just more guarded? Did he resent his father’s idealism?
Finally, he sighed. “I don’t know.” His honesty surprised even himself.
“Tsuki...”
That name again, too tender for what he deserved.
A name used by Japanese people who couldn’t say I love you, and used a metaphor about the moon instead.
Was Elyna even aware of the significance of the nickname she’d chosen?
Kazuki wrapped his hands around the warm cup, needing something to anchor him.
“It’s ironic, really.” He finally met her eyes. “Named for harmony. And here I am, falling for the one woman who’s completely forbidden.” The words came out raw, unfiltered. “So yeah, I’d say the predictions were accurate.”
Elyna tried to stifle a laugh, but her mirth refused to be quelled. She laughed, colours flooding her cheeks; he caught a few disapproving glances sent their way. Evidently, the gaijin’s brightness disturbed their quiet conversations. Fortunately, his golden lady’s attention was consumed by him.
“Karma is playful that way,” she chuckled.
Her laughter was a delight. A wonderful reminder that he needed more joy in his life. A sudden realisation struck him then; Elyna’s lively disposition seeped into his cracks. Her brightness, her regard acted like a mirror.
And that man, seen through her eyes, was worth fighting for. She had but to exist by his side for him to rebuild pieces of himself he’d abandoned. Elyna completed him like no one ever had before.
“Do you believe in fate?”
Elyna sobered up, showing the careful consideration she usually bestowed upon all important subjects. A trait he cherished. Eventually, a secret smile curled her lips. “I didn’t.”
Didn’t. Past tense.
Kazuki found himself smiling, grateful for that flash of levity. “That’s such a British answer, you know that? My grandfather would have loved you.”
Elyna chuckled, then reached out to grasp his hand and kiss his knuckles once. Abandoned, his hand suddenly felt cold.
“Tell me more about him,” she demanded while fishing for another piece of daikon.
Settling back, Kazuki weaved tales of China’s backcountry, of rice fields, Kung Fu and calligraphy. The memories of his secondary father figure were always fond; even though the man was gone now, he carried a piece of his wisdom forever.
Elyna, in turn, shared memories of her own while stealing more daikon from the table.
She spoke of frozen grounds in Trondheim, where digging into the sandpit was made impossible by the intense cold, and fjords carved out from godly hammers.
When the desserts finally arrived, Kazuki’s mind was completely enthralled by Scandinavia.
An assortment of dorayaki, mochi and dango greeted them. Elyna hummed happily at the display of sweets.
“By the way,” he chanced, stealing a piece for himself. “Did you know there’s a funny rumour circulating about you at the kōkō?”
Elyna nearly dropped her stick of dango, eyes widening in alarm. “What?”
He chuckled, enjoying her doe-in-headlights expression. “They say you’re interested in women.”
Elyna suddenly deflated, looking relieved and sheepish at the same time. “Oh, that one?” A blush bloomed across her cheeks. Kazuki’s breath caught, overwhelmed by her cuteness. Elyna took a long draught of her plum wine. “It’s my fault.”
Oh? He was intrigued now. “How come?”
When her fingers started playing nervously with the halfway eaten dango stick, he added: “You know I won’t judge, Elyna.”
Long lashes fell over her eyes. “Ah, yes. I’m just a little…” her gaze lifted, at last.” … embarrassed? Shūji started prodding around about my crush after my accident in PE,” she revealed. “I really didn’t want him to discover I was falling for you, so…”
To hear her early infatuation tightened something in his chest. Kazuki would ponder, later on, exactly when his own heart had stirred. Probably the minute she walked into his class. “So you told him you didn’t like men?”
Elyna shook her head. “He inferred it, and I … didn’t feel the need to correct him.”
Understanding dawned slowly; that sneaky woman had accidentally created the perfect cover. “Very clever, my golden lady. It gives us a great alibi, and keeps all your admirers at bay.”
Elyna blinked in confusion. “What?”
Her innocence startled a laugh out of him. “You cannot possibly ignore that half the male students of the Kōkō are nursing hopeless crushes.”
Elyna stared at him, chopsticks frozen mid-air. “But they’re just…”
Just what?
” … boys.”
A deep satisfaction bloomed in his chest, something almost primitive. Yes, just boys.
"...And way less forward than Italian or Mexican guys,” she went on, chopsticks ready for an assault. Elyna seemed to ponder whether to attack the mocha or a piece of kasutera cake next. Kazuki shot her a pointed look.
“Good thing I always had eyes for older men,” she grumbled.
Always, hmm? There’s a story there.
A story he decided not to dwell upon. Tonight, Elyna was his. His to dine and wine, and his to woo. No other man would approach her thoughts if he had any say in it.
“Very good thing indeed,” he murmured, pinning her with a look that left her flustered.