The Ishinshishi
by SwordSkill

Author's Notes: This is a rendition of Alfred Noyes's "The Highwayman". I don't deserve much credit for the poem because much of Noyes's work is still in there; I just altered some of the words and lines. To see the original poem, click here . Some italics in the poem are Japanese terms and are listed with their corresponding meaning at the end of the fic. This is what you get for combining one of the best poems with one of the best animes in the world (grin). Anyway, good or bad, please review! If not the fic, even just the original poem!

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Yahiko, standing on the quiet meadow, struck the air with his bokken, busy with his practice. Again, again, and again...like Kaoru taught him. Although he would never admit it to her, her exercises on the Kamiyakasshinryu technique were very helpful to Yahiko's swordsmanship.

"Yahiko!" Kenshin's voice interrupted the rhythmic beating of Yahiko's bokken. He had just strolled up the meadow, unnoticed.

"Hi, Kenshin," Yahiko said, not missing a beat.

"Busy with your exercise? You look like you need a break." Kenshin sat down beneath a tree.

Yahiko stopped his swiping and brushed a hand over his perspiring face. "Yeah, I guess."

He scooted to Kenshin, laid down his bokken gently, and sat beside him. His eyes traveled to the skies.

"Kenshin?"

"Yeah?"

"In your time, when the Ishinshishi and the Bakufu were fighting, did all the samurai each had to use a katana?"

Kenshin gave him a curious look.

"Not that I don't want to use one," said Yahiko hastily. "Just asking."

"Well," said Kenshin. "The Ishinshishi believed in modernizing Japan by using guns in warfare."

"But you.."

"I was an assassin, hired to protect the Ishinshishi, so I wasn't really included." Kenshin winced at the memory.

"And the Bakufu?"

"They believed in the old-fashioned way of using the samurai caste system. They didn't want to open to the West."

"Oh. So no guns."

Something gleamed in Kenshin's eye. "But not all of them. Some smuggled guns into the Bakufu and managed to kill off some Ishinshishi. In fact, when I was still with the Ishinshishi forces, we used to say a poem to keep us awake at night. It was about the Ishinshishi and the Bakufu, and the Bakufu gets to use guns."

"And the Ishinshishi?"

"Well," Kenshin said, "he didn't have much of a happy ending. "The Ishinshishi" is a tragedy, actually, and a true story."

"So let's hear it," said Yahiko. "Just in case I'm stuck again with Kaoru scolding at me, so I can keep awake."

Kenshin laughed and began.

*

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And one Ishinshishi came running-
Running - running-
The Ishinshishi came running, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a black topknot on his head, criss-cross scars at his chin,
A loose robe of blue cotton, and geta the color of tin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his sheath was spread on the thigh!
And he ran with a jewelled tinkle,
The sword on his sheath a-tinkle,
His katana hilt a-tinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the street he panted and gasped in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his sheath on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Raiko, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Hiro the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy clay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the rebel say-

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, we're after the Bakufu to-night,
They have no guns but we do; so I'll be back 'fore the light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to you by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

He climbed up by the ivy; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he slid down in the moonlight, and ran away to the West.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A grey-coat troop came marching-
Marching - marching-
The Bakufu's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his sake in a row;
But they gagged his daughter and bound her by the wall near the window.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And Hell at one dark window;
For Raiko could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest:
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say-
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to you by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years;
Till, now, on the stroke of han'ya,
Cold, on the stroke of han'ya,
The tip of one figure touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

Pat-pat; pat-pat! Had they heard it? The footsteps ringing clear;
Pat-pat, pat-pat , in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The Ishinshishi came running,
Running, running!
The Bakufu looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still!

Pat-pat, in the frosty silence! Pat-pat, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him - with her death.

He turned; he raced to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head over the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Raiko, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight; and died in the darkness there.

Back he dashed like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him, and his katana brandished high!
Blood-red was his sheath in the golden noon; wine-red was his blue coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a crimson hole at his throat.

Yahiko was quiet after this long narration. Then he said, "That was really sad, Kenshin. Raiko died for nothing. Is that the end of the story?"

Kenshin looked far away, and shook his head. "The story ends there, but I honestly don't think so." He arched an eyebrow and turned to Yahiko. "Come one, we'd better go. Kaoru might get mad at us for being late for lunch."

Yahiko nodded and picked his bokken, standing up. He had learned much about valor today. It was just a pity that both Raiko and the Ishinshishi reached tragic ends. Then he hurried to catch Kenshin to the dojo.

*

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
An Ishinshishi comes running-
Running - running-
An Ishinshishi comes running, up to the old inn-door.

Over the street he pants and gasps in the dark inn-yard;
And he taps with his sheath on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Raiko, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Owari
(End)

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Japanese Terms

Ishinshishi -a group of samurai sometimes using Western weapons to fight against the Bakufu, wanting to make Japan stronger and more independent to keep the West from dominating them. They supported the restoration of the Emperor to power. Kenshin was one of them.

geta- (Japanese footwear); wooden clogs

katana - sword; blade

Bakufu - the Shogunate, a military government, or tent government, that claimed to rule in the name of the Emperor, but was for all intents and purposes calling the shots.

sake - a Japanese alcoholic drink.

han'ya - midnight.

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Copyright © SwordSkill 2001
The original poem, "The Highwayman" is copyright © Alfred Noyes