Chapter 4 {Y/N}

I follow those with injuries to the infirmary to get my arm treated. There's actually a doctor in the ship who's tending to those with deeper wounds. I can't say I'm not surprise.

After the Shinsengumi was lost behind the chase, we soon came upon a ship at the far side of the harbor, so huge I have never imagined I would be riding one. With me being in the middle I was led by the current up into the vessel without pretty much any choice.

When my arm is bandaged, a poor job I did there, I pull the torn and bloodied sleeve back down. But you can hardly criticize anything being in a room full of radical terrorists and not being able to escape now because you are on their ship, pretending to be one of them.

I let out a nervous breath. On my conscience, I would like to offer some help to people who are having difficulty bandaging and applying needed treatment to their wounds, but my action tonight not only goes beyond conscience but sanity itself. And these people aren't ordinary folks. That much, I know. It also means I'm determined to achieve my motive as well.

I exit the infirmary and step into the hallway, glad to be rid of a room that reeks of men's odor. The hallway is brightly lit with electric lamps hanging on the ceiling. The ship may look wooden from the outside, but its structures seem to be made up with finer materials of steel. Though I would not say it felt welcoming.

I turn left, not knowing where it would lead me. Corridors open up on either side where one contains stacks of boxes and chests that are left in the dark. Some men turn into the hallway and spare me a glance before passing by. I try to put more confidence into the way I walk, eventually ending up at what seems like a kitchen.

It's a big kitchen. Two grand stoves stand opposite from the door, sustaining some heavy-looking pots with rising steam. Lining the wall above are adjoining cupboards. Next to the stoves is a huge sink which a man appears to be washing something. Others crowd the cabinets storing cups and utensils that stand on one side. In the middle of the room spreads a spacious rectangular metal table that holds up various things on it. A couple of men are moving about preparing supper I suppose.

"Hey, the little newbie there!" someone said. "Don't just stand there. Come and help." I soon realize that the man by the sink, possibly the chef, is calling to me. I quickly move to join.

Washing some vegetables shouldn't be that hard. It gives me time to think. This ship isn't moving yet so it appears that they must be still having things done here in the process now. I try to formulate some kind of plan to see that man, yet how could I when I do not even know his face or how he looks like. Searching through my memory about what Katsura-san spoke to me, the warnings that manifest aren't the ones I don't already know.

Someone enters the kitchen. I carry on with my task with a burdened arm. Then a hand comes up my right shoulder. I immediately tense and whirl around.

A man with a scar on his face says to me, "You." A hole opens up in my stomach and I will myself to look neutral. "Bring four cups of tea to the commander's room. I'll handle it from here."

I relax a little. "I don't know where it is, sir. I haven't been shown around."

"Ahh." He turns to the door and gestures with his hand. "Just go straight past the infirmary and straight and you'll find the way."

I nod, and proceed to make four cups of tea. Nobody spares me a glance when I do. They seem to trust each other well. I'll have to think how I can use that to my advantage. But first I have to deal with the meeting of the leader of this group.

Four steaming cups of tea now sit in a wooden tray as I carry them out the kitchen. I navigate the hallway as the man told me, past the infirmary and straight down until the way leads to a turn. This part of the ship somehow feels...neater than the left section. The wall is more polished and the way cleared of any objects that might hinder procedure.

Finally I come upon a room shielded by paper-screened doors with images of green bamboo leaves. It's the only room I see in this corridor, a dead end being just ahead. Voices sound inside the room. My chest pounds when I hear their conversation.

"Shinsuke-dono, I think our preparation has been done here," says the voice of the straw-hat man.

Katsura-san's voice drowns the name in my head.

Takasugi Shinsuke. He's here.

My heart is drumming a harmony I fear the people on the other side might hear. That man must be the commander, I'm sure of it. This is it.

I walk toward the door and kneel down on the floor, practicing the standard procedure of delivering tea to an authority. Setting the tray down, I breath in and speak. "My deepest apologizes for my intrusion. I have brought some refreshments."

Following that rises the voice which I remember belongs to the tall man with glasses. "Come in."

I slide the door aside and take the tray inside. Four people occupy the room. Two at the left are the ones who interviewed me and at the right sits the tall man in green clothes oddly with a shamisen at his back. The last stands by the window, gazing out. I realize with a pang that the person I'm seeking is the same person who saved my life back at the port.

I set the cups out on the low table, dearly hoping they would not mind the shake of my hands. I sense their eyes on me and I swear I have never felt so cornered in my life. I almost startle when the yellow-haired girl says, "Shinsuke-sama."

There's a short pause before that man says, "I see," though I don't know what he means. "You can leave."

The girl tosses me a fierce look. Then the rest of them pour out the room with a click of the door. I analyze the situation of being in the same room with him. The outcome fades away when I look upon his form. Now in the light, his hair turns out to be a dark dark shade of purple, nicely matching his clothes. There seems to be bandages wrapped around his left eye. I haven't realize I want him to turn around until he does.

"Some of my men believe that the uproar just now has to do with you," he says, that sharp gaze gluing me to the floor.

"No," I protest, almost instinctively. "I'm not a spy." I hold his gaze, staring into the deep green of his eye. My wounded arm beats like a second heart. Then I reluctantly add, "I came to join you."

He turns back to the window. "If you are then be careful," he advises, calm tone enlaced with menace. "You have two choices here. You either die for me, or against me. Keep that in mind."

I swallow. When he doesn't speak further, I stumble up on my feet, hugging the tray to my chest. "Thank you for saving my life earlier at the port," I say, then make a stiff bow and exit without another word.

Once out, my breath no longer feels restricted. I lean on the wall of the corridor, knees almost giving. That man is no joke. I keep holding onto that thought, trying to quiet my heart. My brain of course understands that much after this encounter, but my wretched heart is somehow still unconvinced of him. There was a shadow in his eye when he looked at me. And now I begin to want to understand the reason behind it.

I sigh a shaky breath, afraid that he might hear. It's a good thing that his room is not interrupted by the crew. You've brought yourself into this mess, I think to myself. Now you will bring yourself out. Or else they will learn of my disguise and kill me for sure. It's only a matter of time.

Putting aside the strange feeling in my chest, I resolve to make my move later. For now I make my way to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~

By the time I manage to sneak up onto the deck, most of the crew have retired. It took me about an hour to find the way up without raising suspicion. According to what the straw-hat man said, this ship could be moving any second.

The deck is quiet and dark, cloaking in the blackness of the night. Nothing crowds much of the huge space, several deadly machines punctured to the sides of the ship. Sure that I won't be spotted, I make my way to the railing that faces the dock.

Below is the sandy shore that has been paved with bigger stones for the harbor maintenance. Escaping by the main entrance is impossible as it was closed the moment the crew boarded the ship. I judge the damage it would cost by jumping down. But well, having a sprain ankle or a broken leg would have to come after surviving this situation. I brace myself and lift a leg over the rail. Just then the deck lights up, following by a shout.

Out of the sudden the rebels are everywhere on the surface. Someone shouts from the stairs, "Get him!" The blonde girl appears soon.

Before I can move they seize and throw me down on the deck. I yelp as my arm hit the floor, tears springing to my eyes at the sudden pain. I push myself back up, and struggle when they try to grab me and swear. The act causes my hair to come loose, and soon I hear bewildered comments about their so-called comrade being a girl. Then a man put a blade right beneath my chin while another binds my hands. I glare at them, panting hard.

They drag me all the way to the forecastle. At the every end, I see a silhouette slowly coming to where the commotion is. But before I can see who it is someone kicks the back of my knees hard and forces me to kneel.

In front of the ship's commander.