For this to begin…for this to end, it requires one of us to at first admit the truth, doesn't it? I had never before thought you the coward. But this yearning has existed longer than it has not - and it is starved on sunlight, unable to grow. Everyone can see it. Everyone can feel it. You, however, deny the tender whispers that caress you at night, and refuse to voice them aloud.
I cannot blame you; our class is in love with the sword, in love with death. Was there ever really a chance that you could love me, Hijikata-san?
A sharp metallic hiss - an announcement of another sword entering the fray. The First Unit Captain pivoted on the balls of his feet, spun around, and felt his weapon collide with a sister katana. It was only Saito. Okita broke from his lock against he other captain, nodding solemnly and turned away in that instant. There was no time for pleasantries. The Choshu men were on him quick, like carrion to meat, and were remarkably unimpressed by the renowned 'genius swordsman'.
"So this is the famous Okita Soji?!" spat one of the men, contrarily tightening his grip on the hilt of his katana. "This is the best the Shinsengumi can offer?" he hollered, grinning broadly at his fellow radicals. "You're not bad looking, pretty boy. I think you'd make me a better wife than an opponent!" But Soji had heard comments like that all his life. People often remarked on his delicate appearance - how he could look so sweet but kill so easily. Coldly - without hesitation, without emotive thought - he would cut them down. Again and again and again.
For there was always a new life to steal.
Rushing forward in a blur, Okita lunged at the ronin to the right of him, forcing the cool steel of his blade into the exposed flank of the man. Before the samurai's body had even fallen to the ground, the Captain was ploughing into the next man, fighting with such speed and poise that the men knew not how to retaliate. Okita's blade was devouring numerous souls tonight.
The katana forced its way through the cage of the rebel's chest, seeking that vital beating organ. It was the Choshu man who had spoken to Soji. Realising this, the First Unit Captain pressed lightly on the hilt of his sword; the gesture was gentle, but it made the deadly metal graze against the man's insides - one more tap, and the sword's penetration would prove fatal.
"Do you still want to marry me?" Okita mocked, watching with hidden horror as the rebel spat a glob of scarlet blood, glistening at his feet.
"So you really are a Mibu Dog after all!" The Shinsengumi Captain glared down the smooth, steel plane - but not at the man who was about to die before him - at his own reflection; at his dark, troubled eyes, reflected in the blade.
"You should be more prudent regarding the Wolves of Mibu. When the pack hunts, they leave none alive." A low, guttural yelp, a slice across flesh, and then nothing.
They dying sounds of battle wrapped around Soji; the clatter of metal-on-metal, cries of triumph and pain, the dull thud of more bodies hitting the ground. Staring at the fresh corpse in front of him, he felt no pity.
"The demon that I am…"
The nebulous sky grew even hazier, settling on a sable cloak in place of grey. Thunder raged in the distance, and Soji felt the first drops of rain descend from Heaven, ready to cleanse the cemetery he had just created. So many dead. So many dead.
No…No, no…not now! Breaking. Pushing. Compulsions, trembling. Tearing and clawing internally, before forcing upwards - racking his entire body with pain. Worse than anytime before, with more finality than he had ever felt, Soji began to cough violently. And as he retched, bright crimson blood poured forth from his mouth, mingling in the soil with those who had fallen before him. The complete agony coerced his body to the ground.
It hurts, Hijikata-san…oh, it hurts. I was never able…to say…
The initial rains of the season were always heavy, and the downpour created a veil over Toshizo Hijikata's vision, like staring through gauze. But he knew what he was looking for.
"Where is he?!" he muttered under his breath. Suddenly, with disgusting clarity, the Vice Commander caught sight of the azure uniform of the Shinsengumi, across the other side of the plain. He could see all too clearly now the rich violet hair, the keen eyes glittering with tears. He was not dead, not yet. Surely there was still time.
"SOJI!"