As beautiful as the sight of the sun vanishing was, it also meant for anyone traveling on the roads of Japan that it would be wise to seek shelter out. Alas, twenty-one year old Hitsuki Takeda was no exception to this rule. If anything, he perhaps applied to it even more so than most other people. Not to say he was a bad man or anything, heavens no. But many people tended to believe that from a simple glance at him and the swords attached to his side.
"The concern is valid enough I suppose," he mused softly to himself, nodding after thinking it over a few moments.
The day was ... hm. What was today anyways? It was difficult to figure such things out, especially while one traveled so often from place to place like Hitsuki did. However, from what he could quickly guess, he was pretty sure it was the middle of September, leaning towards early October of 1868. The Meiji era had almost literally just begun, and with it's arrival, there were supposed to be promises of many new beginnings for everyone in Japan.
And yet, from all that Hitsuki had seen, not everyone accepted this. In fact, there were a good number of radicals who wanted things to remain the same, those who sought to continue the needless bloodshed. It was a shame, really. There was never a need for it. There was definitely no point in trying to initiate a needless war, that was for damn sure.
"No need to repeat history," he muttered softly, moving a few raven strands of hair away from his eyes as a gentle breeze danced along his flesh and locks.
Among the sun vanishing, he could feel the temperature beginning to drop. If now wasn't the best time to find an inn or somewhere to stay ... well ... hell if he knew the best time to find a place to remain in for the night.
Thankfully, a nearby sign ahead hinted that Kyoto wasn't too far away. A soft sigh mingled in with the wind as his pace seemed to quicken. The ability to stay warm and have a fresh meal sounded very good right about now and he was more than ready to earn that.
He didn't have the most in terms of currency. But ... he had managed to find some rather reasonable people on his journey thus far. Maybe his luck would continue?
Only time would soon tell, Hitsuki figured.<|im_end|>
Riku Kotabe:
Hitomi Fukuyama:
Golden light spilled forth over the horizon one last time...painting the world in its vibrant color, before leaving to allow navy blue to invade. Shopkeepers began closing for the day, their last customers lingering before heading back home. A number of children ceased playing in the streets, having been called by their mothers or their fathers to return home. Overall it was a peaceful ending to a rather uneventful day at least, that was the case for many people within the walls of Kyoto.
Oh no Mistress Riku is going to be angry if I'm late with supper again came a worried whisper. Several glances went in her direction, numerous quickly darting away. Most of the people within Kyoko knew who she was, and didn't cross paths with the young woman not because of her demeanor, but rather because of her status as a slave.
Slaves were not common in this day and age...but every once in a while, one would come across a person who did own a slave or two. It was a sad existence, really...for that slave has to follow their masters orders, no matter what the task may be...no matter what risk may come, or danger onto themselves. This particular slaves name was Hitomi Fukuyama. A sickly child, she was abandoned by her parents when barely six months old or rather, not simply abandoned, but left upon a doorstep.
From that moment on, Hitomi was a slave to Riku Kotabes whims...whether they be silly or otherwise. Ever since she could walk, talk, and think for herself, she has followed the woman's orders...not that she hasn't thought about the concept of freedom. In fact it has crossed her mind several times over the years. Where would she go, though? Who could she rely on during her time of need? There was also the possibility of Mistress Riku tracking her down, even when free and beyond her grasp...
The fact of the matter is...there is no way Hitomi could escape her clutches. There was no possible way to obtain freedom, at least...none that she could think of. Her hands holding onto the shopping bags ever tighter, she hurried her way down the street, not bothering to look at the surrounding area. After all, she knew Kyoto like the back of her hand.
Of course, what Hitomi didn't anticipate was that someone would be walking into the designated path she chose to take...and so, a collision was inevitable. Hard muscle met soft curves, and with a startled cry, Hitomi fell to the ground with a hard thump. The bag of rice tore, grains littering the road, while other things began to either roll away or make some sort of escape.
Ow, ow, ow! Hitomi found that half a dozen places hurt, and rubbing the back of her head, sending several black threads of hair flowing down over her exposed shoulders. The collision had loosened the kimono she was wearing...making it where a great deal of skin was revealed, inappropriate and otherwise. One golden eye opened, pain filling the orb and painting it a darker hue.
Hitomi began looking around nervously. Did I really hit someone? she wondered out loud, unaware that she was sitting on top of the young man involved in said collision, in fact straddling his lap. I don't see anyone, though.<|im_end|>