BEFORE WE BEGIN

It's been a really long time since i've submitted any stories *i've been so busy with cosplay and decora* but I decided to write something about my favourite Anime/Game/Manga right now: Hakuouki. This time i'm doing a section with Souji and Chizuru. I actually slightly adapted this from a doujinshi that someone from Japan has drawn about an alternate ending for Souji and Chizuru. Sad to say, it doesn't have a happy ending, but I felt that the story really brought out the idea that Souji loves the way of the sword so much that even if he turned himself into a demon he would want to continue being able to wield his katana. Also, there's the old way of thinking aspect that I tried to incorporate, where in the past killing off one's loved one or comrade was in a sense a form of respect to them?

Sigh...I don't think this is gonna be a crowd pleaser = =;;;

"I CAN STILL FIGHT!"

Souji's words still echoed in my head as I watched, helplessly, as Saito-san and Heisuke-kun restrained him to his bed. He struggled, grasping desperately at the air in an attempt to reach his katana. His face was flushed, both red and pale at the same time, from exhaustion and exertion.

I could only stand and watch from the fragile sliding door.

It dawned on me how powerless I really was. So what if I were stronger than a human? If I couldn't protect the people dearest to me, then strength amounted to nothing. The harsh winter wind swept into the room, making the old wooden door rattle weakly. I, too, shivered from the cold gale of wind, hugging my body closer against the fragile door frame. Souji started to cough violently, Saito-san had let go of his grip. He took a small white hankerchief from his sleeve pocket and put it to Souji's mouth. It was instantly stained red.

There was silence in the room for a while, Heisuke-kun busied himself with changing the tea, Saito-san continued to press the now red hankerchief to Souji's pallid lips, and I only looked down at the tiny tatami markings, ashamed that I could not do the same for him.

"God," I prayed that night as I was bringing Souji's food to his room, "please. Don't take Souji away just yet. I have yet to make any memories with him. I have yet to understand the meaning of being in love. I know I haven't been very open to him, but somehow…"

THMP.

What was that? I became more alert. My senses naturally heightened at the sound. I swerved around. My eyes met another, red and blazing like a red moon. A lost look on his face, all sanity drained from his being, his hair as white as the snow that covered the ground., his pale hand gripping tightly onto a katana.

A soldier gone mad.

A Rasetsu.

My knees buckled, and I stumbled backward into a wooden pillar. The tray of food I was holding gave way when my hands did, and the bowls and all its contents clattered noisily onto the wooden floor. The Soldier looked at me with a malicious grin, he chuckled inhumanely and delightedly to himself.

"Blood…"

Was all he could say. He raised his katana, he dashed forward to strike me, and I ran. My legs seemed to be moving with a mind of their own, I probably had my eyes closed the entire time I was running, but from the route I was taking I knew exactly where I was headed.

I threw open the doors, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He was still awake, in his day clothes no less, polishing his katana. His hands were trembling even just holding the katana an inch or two from the ground, and his forehead glistened from the sweat that his fever brought about.

"Souji…" I said. The next moment, I flung myself onto the soft tatami and into his arms. He dropped his katana, shocked at the sudden gesture of affection I gave him. For a moment, I forgot about the bloodthirsty Soldier that had been chasing me. Afterall, Souji's room was in another part of the grounds, it would take a while before any blood-hungry Rasetsu came looking for me. Souji gently rested his hands on my shoulders and pulled me apart. He took a good look at me, at my messy hair, at the miso stains on the front of my clothes. He let out a laugh, I looked down in embarrassment. Then, he took a small bunch of hair in his hands and tucked them lovingly behind my ear.

He smiled.

"When I get better," he said, his voice raspy and sore, "let's go away from here. We'll move back to your home in Edo, we'll settle down. And then I'll buy you all the dango you ever want."

He tried to chuckle, but instead ended up coughing . His body bent over, he brought a hand to his lips. Blood came out again. I felt, at that instant, like someone had taken a tiny blade and flung it directly into the center of my heart. My hand unconsciously touched his, and he looked up at me. A weary look grew over him.

"Curse this disease," he said. I could not reply.

THMP THMP THMP THMP.

It was then that we both looked up. There were more than just one pair of footsteps. Figures appeared outside the door, a sound like cackling vultures could be heard. They had found me. And it was now my fault that Souji was going to die.

"Go," he said, "while I distract them, find a way to escape through the window."

"Okita-san, you can barely lift your katana!" I cried, my hands gripped his sleeve, they trembled with frustration.

"Of course I can! I CAN STILL FIGHT!" Those words again. His voice had a tint of sadness in them, like a writer who had become paralyzed. He forced himself to his feet, I could feel his body temperature rising. At this rate, he would surely collapse, leaving him completely vulnerable to the Rasetsu. His shaking hand reached for his katana, he wielded it from it's sheath.

But nothing came out.

He stared in disbelief at his empty hand for a moment. I, too, could not process what had just happened. I glanced at him, and for the first time, I saw fear and despair in his eyes. He sank back to the floor.

"Huh. So this is all that Okita Souji, First Captain in Command, has to offer eh?", he chuckled bemusedly to himself, an expression of both defeat self-pity. The door came down then, and we saw the Rasetsu, pale like ghosts that glimmered in the moonlight, their swords already bloodied by some other unlucky soldier that they probably chanced upon while searching for me. We would not make it out alive, I knew this much. If that be, I was glad to have Souji next to me, then we would have fulfilled our promise of being together, right?

In my effort to make out the number of Rasetsu, I had not noticed Souji crawling over to a low drawer and pulling out a tiny glass vial with red liquid inside. That vial now rolled aimlessly and silently away from him, its contents emptied.

"Oh….no….". Tears welled up in my eyes, I felt something of a hyperventilation coming up inside of me. I struggled to keep my tears in, but they gave way. What stood in front of me was one more Rasetsu, with hair white like winterfrost, a red hakama draped around his weak but now powerful frame, and red eyes that burned with anger and resolve. He was now strong enough to hold his sword, but I no longer recognized him.

He moved swiftly, almost beautifully. It was almost like he was doing a hypnotic dance, and whoever who watched would be easily charmed by it. As he danced, blood flew through the air and painted the walls and floor. No matter how many times he collided with them, they just wouldn't stop laughing. They laughed until there was no more blood in them to sustain their laughter. I watched silently as the massacre unfolded into the night. Silence ensued soon after, there was nothing left to paint with. He stood panting, a wild look in his eyes. He turned, he rushed for me, his sword aiming for my throat.

I…am really a pitiful, helpless creature.

I'm sorry, Souji, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I Love You.

My katana flew through the air.