-Insert annoyingly long A/N-

Yeah I know, you just want to read.


Chapter 1
Karma is a bitch

"You're dismissed."

Those words of liberation echoed around my brain like one of those annoyingly uplifting electro-pop songs that wormed their way into your brain after been repetitiously propagandised through all forms of media. Yet unlike the artificial energy those songs were to fill you with, I was genuinely elated for a few reasons.

My internal happiness tho, did not make it to my face as half of my attention was devoted to the shocking pink bubble protruding from my mouth that was slowly increasing in diameter. As my bubble grew in size I was amused to notice a vein maturing simultaneously above my vice commander's twitching left eye.

"There may be a-"

POP

My watermelon flavoured bubble had dutifully exploded in the middle of his sentence awarding me with a dark scowl on my commander's face.

"Ah sorry..." I deadpanned before vacuuming the splatter of gum back into my mouth and prepared the birth of my second creation. This time I made sure to chew as noisily as possible, keeping my eyes on his temple. The vein was beginning to reach a dangerous size and for a moment, had I not coveted the vice commander position, the thought of warning Hijikata about the hazards of high blood pressure had crossed my mind.

I bit back a smile as he exhaled sharply; clearly hoping the air leaving his body would carry away a fraction the building frustration.

"-may be a chan-" he tried to pick up from where he had left off, but did not get far.

POP

I left out the apology this time but busied myself with examining the various scrolls of calligraphy draped all over his office, flattering around lightly in the balmy spring breeze. Perspiration beaded on his forehead as another vein joined the first one. Sometimes, it was almost too easy...

"a chance-"

POP

"that-"

POP

"y-"

POP

He opened his mouth and before the words could even tumble out of his orifice in a pile of messy disjointed syllables, I popped my gum again in a sharp irritating snap of air.

"HOW CAN YOU EVEN DO IT THAT FAST?" Hijikata barked at me in a spectacular explosion of temper that would usually encourage new recruits to cower in fear and spontaneously evacuate their bowels. After growing up with this man though, I may have just acquired enough insolence and indifference to sew a set of armour rendering myself immune to his threats.

Casually I pulled out my phone and eyed the time warily. Keeping the tone of my voice even and relaxed I reminded my vice commander just how much of his lunch time he had left to burn on me and not the yakisoba bread sitting innocently on his desk.

Clearly he was hoping to chain me down by issuing me with a warning that I might be called in for duty during my well deserved holiday. And clearly there was no way in hell I would willingly subjugate myself to this without a fight.

"You should eat," I suggested against an eerily serene backdrop of breezy curtains and a ticking clock.

Responding aptly to my prompt, he reached for his bottle of Mayorin mayonnaise also occupying his table with equal innocence.

"Sougo, there's a chance-" he started as he was uncapping his mayo.

Although this time, he had stopped on his own accord to watch me throw away an empty Tabasco sauce bottle into his newly prepared trashcan which landed with an almost too pleasant clang. A moment of brief silence followed as I pictured the imaginary hourglass doing flip flops above his head against a background of the words loading.

"That was a Tabasco sauce bottle wasn't it?" he asked slowly, clearly his brain was still trying to grasp the situation. Okita Sougo. Had just messed up (highlight, underline, bold), a prank. "I thought this mayo looked a little too pink, you spiked it didn't you? You little shit,"

"You're so paranoid, that's just food colouring," I rolled my eyes, hiding my smile as he called me out. Or so he thought he did.

"Bullshit," he smirked patronisingly against my poker face, "don't be a sore loser, I caught you this time!" Dramatically he lobbed the bottle of mayo across the room, dunking it perfectly in the bin before removing the wrapping from his bread. His eyes were trained on me the whole time along with his exaggerated smile, bloated with pride on his rare case of short-lived triumph.

Doing my hardest to play my part, I feigned ignorance which can best be translated to doing 'the loser's sulk' in this situation before turning my attention to my phone and hastily penning a text, occasionally glancing up to peer at his face, only to find it frozen in glee with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. Obviously he wanted to hand me free tickets to his victory show and 'torment' me as he savoured his conquest.

Being in a truly generous mood today, who was I to waste my front row tickets?

I shot him a glare as I snapped my phone shut loudly enough to mimic some semblance of irk. Feign weakness.

"Are you going to eat that thing?" I asked him, making sure I laced my words with a measured ounce of irritation similar to a party magician's when they get called out by sticky, snot-filled little brats at their peer's birthday gathering.

"Of course, I just want to make sure you are watching as I consume this perfectly safe, delicious and Tabasco free yakisoba bread."

At this point in time, if I really was a loser I would have thrown my sidearm katana at his head or snatched his lunch away and eaten it myself, but I was biding my time. Much like a child waiting for the clock to strike 12 on Christmas Eve so they can meet the unfortunate fat man that goes chimney diving into their house... while armed with a baseball bat.

"Oooo... it's SO good," Hijikata gushed after the first bite. "It's like a rollercoaster of tastes."

"Uh huh," I folded my arms and waited patiently for him to continue, my stomach let out a convenient growl at this point making him grin ever harder.

"A perfect blend of textures."

"...if you smile any wider your face might crack," I warned him blankly.

"A subtle hint of spice..." he paused in the midst of becoming orally acquainted with the sandwich like a statue, barely wheezing out his next words, "It's like... it's like..." and collapsed into a glorious finale of coughs as a brilliant firework of rapidly expanding capillaries flowered all over his face.

Anyone experienced with spicy foods would be familiar with the fact that some spicy foods were honest and hit you like a fire truck driven by a blind rhino from the very first bite. While some were the sneaky kind of spicy, like newly appointed ex-girlfriends that kick you between the legs as soon as you turn around from your "peaceful" break up.

Seeing as my vice commander was now choking and looking more and more like he was distantly related to a tomato, I figured he was in no condition to finish his sentence. In a gracious act of helpfulness, I assembled one for him.

"... An inferno in your mouth?" I offered with a grin as my yakisoba bread figuratively kicked Hijikata in the groin for me. Now that he lacked the vocal abilities to even make a retort, I turned around and made my exit... but not before snapping a picture of my vice commander clawing at his throat with a face flushed with various violent emotions while on verge of dying at his desk.

"I told you the mayo was safe. I got the Tabasco baked into the bread, you should honestly listen to me when I tell you things Hijikata-san," I called over my shoulder above the racket he was making in a scramble to operate his water dispenser and the loud string of curses that filled the hallway as he broke the handle in his haste.

"Don't worry! I texted Yamazaki to bring you water already... he will be coming back from leave tomorrow."

Like I said, I was genuinely elated. Had I not an appearance to keep, I would have been skipping out of the head office of the Imperial Guard. Little did I know though, karma was always waiting around the corner for people like me, biding patiently for the most chaotic moment to come ambushing out of nowhere with a solid metal lance to joust me right off the high horse I was thoroughly enjoying riding. There was no better way to put things, but karma was a bitch.

Armed with the knowledge that my vice commander would soon recover from his sandwich episode and issue a manhunt for my head to put me straight back to work in an effort to regain some form of equilibrium between us, I hurriedly cleared out basic necessities from my Tokyo apartment and made for the train station.

Best way to start off my break would be to make myself untraceable for duty and escaping to one of my apartments in Yokohama would give me the highest chance of success.

Settling myself into one of the cushy seats on the train, I let my mind wander over my work. The Imperial Guard took care of all matters related to the Royal Family. In truth, one could accurately term us as royal babysitters with duties ranging from protecting the shogun while he made public appearances to accompanying one of his distant cousins to a medical clinic to get haemorrhoids checked out because they lack the courage to do so without moral support; to petty duties like accompanying third aunty while she goes dress shopping and ensure prince snotball the fifth does not rub his royal nose drool all over other shop attendants and merchandise. Above all, ironically this division of the police department was the strictest in selection.

As the memory of threatening one obnoxious prince snotball in dark a changing stall with my sword to the point where he emptied his bladder crossed my mind, I fought back a smile. Incidentally, after that faithful day, he had become the best behaved and soft spoken snotball whenever I was around as an escort. Much to my chagrin it also meant his mother summoned me constantly, thanking the unknown voodoo magic I have to transform her little monster into something similar to the lowest tier of acceptable human existence. I disliked little kids. High school graduation was only three years behind me, but truth be told I have never looked back simply because I disliked big kids ever more.

Somehow I had managed to entertain myself with a long enough trip down the memory lane to arrive at the stairwell of my apartment in the Izumi ward without scratching off the skin on my face in sheer boredom. Adjusting the strap of my duffle bag and long cloth satchel that housed my katana, I started the ascent to my apartment on the top floor of the five storey complex, faintly aware of some form of shouting going on in the peripherals of my hearing.

As I stood directly outside the door of my apartment, a certain ill feeling settled in the pit of my stomach when I realised the shouting was coming from inside my apartment. I frowned slightly as my left hand reached up automatically to cup my chin in the typical thinking pose. There was a possibility Yamazaki might be doing an emergency stakeout in my apartment and has once again lost his marbles to a diet consisting solely of anpan and milk.

Shuddering at the thought of a filthy apartment covered in empty anpan packets and soured milk cartons, I pursed my lips quickly before unlocking the door with my keys as well as deactivating the digital coded lock, planning on the most painful way to murder Yamazaki as I kicked open my own apartment door to avoid being spiked in the face with a wild anpan.

The silence that followed the audible bang of my apartment door hitting the wall was nothing short of awkward. Before me, in my very own apartment, on my couch, was a petrified guy no older than eighteen, clad in nothing but a loincloth frozen in mid scramble to get away from a girl around his age dressed in a crimson cheongsam who was also motionless. She had a fistful of his loincloth in her left hand and an umbrella in her right, judging by horrified look on the boy's face, she obviously had intentions of making him do the backwards tango with his ass and her umbrella before I unfortunately interrupted.

They stared at me like set of statues while I gazed at them with my usual neutral facial expression. Seconds ticked by on a clock in the background and neither of us made a move. Seeing as they had no intention to un-pause themselves like a jarred scene on a stuck DVD, I whipped out my phone and quickly snapped a picture.

"Well... don't mind me, by all means continue your nasty SM play, I'll start recording when you guys start moving again," I encouraged in monotony and made a small motion with my hand for them to continue.

The guy was the first to move. He let out a terrified squeal before making a dive that any stunt man would have been proud of over my coffee table, conveniently ditching his loincloth in the process to free himself from the girl's grip. Landing in a mess of arms and legs, he clambered across my wooden floor in full naked glory and literally attached himself to my right pant leg like a koala.

"SAVE MEEEEEEE!" He wailed in a storm of snot and tears whilst hugging my leg a bit too tightly before dissolving into a splutter of incomprehensible syllables, "Hijikatatoldmetowaithereandl ockthedoorthensheappearedand icouldn'tunlockthedoortogetoutsincei don'tknowthecode,"

Not even able to hide the obvious disgust I held towards the shower of bodily fluids raining from all the orifices on his face minus his ears from soaking themselves into the leg of my jeans, I turned my attention towards what I assumed to be the more intelligible one of the SM duo.

"Normally, the girl would be the one getting stripped. Do you even know how to make porn?" I asked the girl who was busy wiping her hands on her dress after dropping the filthy loincloth.

"I know enough to say that if you don't hand that loser over now he's going to piss all over your pants," she replied with a slight Chinese accent as she hopped off my couch while shouldering her umbrella and planting her left hand on her hips.

I eyed the quivering mess of limbs still wrapped around my right leg darkly, irritation starting to spark as trouble loomed its ugly head over the horizon of my holiday, "You have five seconds give me a reason on why I shouldn't punt you over to that ogre," Before he could even open his mouth I started to count.

FIVE

FOUR

THREE

TWO

"I- I- I'm Tokugawa-" Instinctively I dropped my duffle bag on the ground and pried him off my leg roughly with my sheathed katana before he even made it to the first name. Punting him out into the hall, I kicked the door shut behind me, ignoring the furious banging that followed as he demanded to be let back in. Tokugawa, was the last name of the royal family and the absolute last name on earth I wanted to have anything to do with right now.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? MY CLOTHES ARE STILL IN THERE!" the royal pain in the ass yelled.

"If you want to keep your anal virginity you better start running, in three minutes I'm going to let this she-rapist out of here," I called back.

"But- but, YOU'RE THE FUCKING POLICE," he shouted angrily while fisting at my door.

"Yeah that's another reason why you should run now while you have the chance to, before I change my mind and arrests you for indecent exposure," I retorted and opened my door just wide enough for me to screech into the hall in the girliest voice I could master, "There's a hentai streaker running in the halls! Someone get security!" The last I saw of him were a pair of saucer wide eyes rimmed with tears, dancing with a tempest of emotions ranging from shock to betrayal to down right fear staring defiantly at me.

"Oh no you wouldn't do this to me!" his eyes screamed at me.

"If I had 100 opportunities to do this, I'd do it 101 times,," I glared back at him before letting out another shriek for good measure. "KYAAAAAA~ somebody!"

"F-f- fuck you man!" he flipped me the bird before making for the stairs, shielding what he can of his exposed body with his hands as the other apartment doors started opening in response to the ruckus. Finally closing my own apartment door, I turned to the girl only to find her sporting the same look Hijikata had just this morning, only with more veins and less mayonnaise.

"Oi asshole, that's my mark you just set free," she accused as the shadow of a storm started brewing across her pale face.

"You should be thanking me for saving you from the path of rape," I retorted as I slipped off the cloth casing that housed my battle ready katana. Maybe it was something in the setting orange sun that played funny tricks with the lighting, but a slightly lethal glint you should not find in a normal teenage girl's eyes made me seek the comfort of cold steel in my hands.

"I am a lady," she snapped, "and ladies don't rape people you shitdick."

"Probably want to wash your mouth out with soap first, ladies are too refined to have verbal diarrhea like you," I smiled condescendingly.

"Big words for a dog that just abandoned his master," her blue eyes clashed threateningly against my own wine coloured orbs, "So it is true that the police are just a bunch of no good tax robbers!"

"Equally big words for a twerp that doesn't even pay tax yet," I felt compelled to match her gaze with equal intensity,

"You're not my target so get out of my way."

"But you've been naughty enough to earn yourself 30 minutes in the quiet corner. I can't let you out until time is up."

"If you don't move, I'm going to shove this umbrella up your ass."

"That's hot." I almost laughed when her serious expression faltered and a blush that could almost be cute made its way onto her face. I used almost here because normal girls usually do not make threats about inserting objects into a boy's rectal region like she was talking about her favourite brand of makeup.

I watched her fidget and could literally hear the cogs ticking in her head as she flailed about trying to make a reply inside the golden time limit of a witty retort. I took the plastic pineapple now sailing at my head as her defeat.

Snatching the offending fruit out of the air, I kept my eyes on hers, marvelling at her loss of composure.

"I should warn you, I'm not like your typical policeman. I'm not averse to beating children just to set them straight," I flicked the handle of my sword lightly with my thumb just so she could catch a glimpse of how real and how sharp the blade was.

"Keep your lolicon SM fetishes to yourself, you're not even going to last three minutes," she rolled her eyes, but her blush lingered while an armada of plastic fruits cannonballed towards me because she decided the best way to start off a fight in a cramped Yokohama apartment was by throwing a plate of fake fruit at your opponent.

I baseball batted the offending plate back at her as she squealed to get out of the way. Catching her off guard instantly I knocked her into a wall by pushing her stomach region with a sharp stab from the sheathed end of my sword. Instantly I followed up by pinning her to the wall by trapping her neck with my katana, applying just enough pressure on her throat to make it hard to breathe.

"I don't even need three minutes for a brat like you," I breathed against her ear.

"Don't... get so..." she struggled to form the words with the little air she was allowed, I could see the fury in her eyes just as she tore her gaze from mine to the window ledge right next to her, "... FUCKING COCKY," with a snarl she grabbed a dying cactus off the shelf and stabbed me in the sword hand, served me right for never watering that damned thing.

The cactus may be dead, but the dried up thorns were sturdy as fuck. Unbeknownst to most people, sadists were sadists because they disliked feeling pain. The sensation of being stabbed in the hand short-circuited my brain for just a split second and I lost my focus which costed me to almost drop my sword. A small mistake, but it was enough of a window for the vicious little brat to catch a breath of air and to push me backwards. Unfortunately for her, I lost my balance and tumbled over my couch and her skull shattering swing with her umbrella missed my head by a fraction.

While I recovered my balance against the saggy messy of cushions and untangled my hand from the disgusting pile of loincloth, I heard a crash. Looking up quickly, the little vixen had snagged a chair and bashed it against the glass sliding door that separated my living room to my balcony. Shattered glass littered the ground along with pieces of splintered wood from my now broken chair.

"Probably shouldn't buy all your shit from Ikea," she mused at the chair before dropping the smashed pieces.

"They make decent furniture if you aren't planning on waging a domestic war everyday," I glared back at her from my position on the couch.

"I'm leaving," she declared as she turned around to make her way out of my now glassless sliding door. The headache of having to call someone in to fix this was already starting to pulsate in my brain.

On top of all this, I was not satisfied with the way things turned. Picking up a strategically scattered plastic apple, I sat up and threw the fruit as hard as I could and revelled in the audible clog as it smacked the back of her head. Surprisingly her arm snaked around and caught the fruit before it could fall to the ground and she whipped around sharply to face me, fanning open her umbrella to block out the setting sun behind her figure.

"If I see you again, I'm going to blow open your stupid head," she glowered at me at what was meant to be a threatening display of a worthy rival... had she not taken a bite out of the ultra realistic plastic apple.

"Didn't your mum teach you not to eat things that strangers give you?" I teased as I watched her splutter and cough up bits of paint and foamy plastic, not even feeling very angry at the fact that I would later be cleaning up the bits of spit and debris at the risk of catching some sort of foreign disease off her.

Her only response was to pause between her gagging and flip me the bird like her ex-SM partner did before hoisting herself over the ledge of my balcony and jumping off in what was meant to be a rendition of Mary Poppins. Sincerely, if she was stupid enough to jump off the fifth storey of a building, I hoped she died.

Exhaling sharply to blow my stray bangs out of my eyes, I grabbed a cushion at random and flopped back down onto the couch. Most people would be smoking up a storm by now, but since I did not indulge in cancer sticks, I popped a piece of gum into my mouth and started chewing thoughtfully as I started assessing the amount of cleaning I would be forced to do before I could deem my apartment as fit for living again.

Broken sliding door, overturned pot plants and dirt all over the floor, one pair of soiled loincloth, broken fruit plate, one contaminated plastic apple, dirty couch and cushion covers, broken chair, possibilities of unwanted bodily fluids everywhere, an infected pair of jeans I might have to chuck out, some clothes I might have to burn... I stopped counting and buried my face in the cushion with a loud groan.

"Well played karma, you're such a bitch."


A/N - Hi... considering you read everything til here, I would like to congratulate you on making it this far. I haven't actually written anything in over two years so I have no idea where my writing skills are at if I can even write anymore.

Only thing I know at the moment is, I feel like picking up writing again and I love OkiKagu :D They are so fun to write together.

Please drop me a review if you enjoyed the fic or if there are any mistakes or if you have anything you want to share with me - comments, criticisms, want me to read your fic etc I'll do my best to respond and update.

AND yes... I'm shamelessly inexperienced with first person, thought I'd attempt it for a change. Don't kill me ;A;

- Orion