Disclaimer: I OWN THE STARS!!! MWA HA HA HA!!! However, I do not own
Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters.
Warning: Yaoi. Saitou/Okita pairing. Don't like, then don't read and don't bother me with half-ass complaints. Flames will be fed to my pet rabid hamster named Smeago'l. Have a nice day. ^_^
.
.
.
.
Blood Red Sakura
.
.
Tokyo, Japan (Edo)
.
May 30, 1872
.
It was midnight. A lone figure strode a single path near the outskirts of the city, walking under a heavy shroud of silence, ominous and oppressing. It was as if the world was dead along this path where no crickets chirped and no nightingale sang. Above, the moon danced across the night skies in its full glory, parting black clouds as it went while the stars looks on, twinkling merrily. They were the only ones who noticed the man below who melted into the inky darkness like he was a part of it.
The man was obviously a police officer, but he had an impressive aura that revealed himself to be no ordinary one. Proof of this also resided in the katana he wore at his waist. The man's build was like that of an alpha wolf: tall and lean, yet muscular. His jet black hair was slicked back except for several antennae-like bangs that hung over a harshly lined face. However, his most remarkable features were his eyes. They were gold of colour, and normally they had the uncanny ability to lay one's soul completely bare and mock one for their weakness. Here though, under the cover of night in seclusion, his once bright eyes were dull and defeated, the eyes of someone who had been broken or simply wasted away to nothing. This certain police inspector was too deep in thought to pay any heed to the celestial deities above, but they noticed him.
"Five years it has been since his presence graced this place," whispered a star.
"He has lost all will to live since then," another star whispered in return. "Dead inside, he is."
"We might see him soon, that we might."
The stars were silent, pondering the weight of this statement.
"Where is Okita?" the first star inquired.
"Begging the Guardian to allow him to go down to Earth."
"What is the Guardian's reply?"
"You know the rules. It must be two centuries after an angel's passing before they can return to Earth, much less consort with a mortal."
"Hm. Then it is time I pay the Guardian a visit," mused the star aloud as she disappeared from the night sky.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I stand outside the large estates of what had once been a tuberculosis hospital. I sneer in disgust, for even in times of peace humans have no compassion for each other; they are consumed in their own petty lives, worrying only about wealth and personal power. After the doctors who ran the hospital decided they weren't making enough of a profit, they sold the place, including the sakura grove in the back where the first captain of the Shinsengumi, Okita Soushi, was buried. Sometimes, I long for the chaos of the Bakumatsu. At least then Aku Soku Zan had been fully applicable. I must admit that part of myself is glad that the place had been sold. The stench of death has faded and it gives me an excuse not to come here, even if the only person I provide with this pitiful excuse is myself.
I climb over the wall surrounding the manor with the ease of a shadow. As a police officer, I am well aware that I am trespassing. However, to the world I am Fujita Gorou, a minor police officer with no notable role in Bakumatsu and no reason to be visiting the grave of one of the most admirable warriors of the Shinsengumi. Hajime Saitou, third captain of the Shisengumi, on the other hand, is dead, burned to ashes in the hell of Shisho's fortress. At this, I smirk bitterly to myself. One dead man comes to visit another, but realms still separate us. Why, damn it? Why aren't I by your side? Suddenly, the aching in my chest sharpens as if someone has taken the knife embedded there and twisted it. I bit back the gasp of pain, and my vision blurs.
As I steady myself, I shove all thoughts of him into the crevices of my mind, and curse myself for my weakness. The emptiness inside takes its toll, leaving my entire body cold and numb. It's a feeling I've become accustomed to. I no long allow myself to experience emotions, ever since he died. It's always the same unrelenting tidal wave of pain that I can never make subside. At times I wonder if it's normal to never feel anything, to live in total apathy. Perhaps I am going insane.
The full moon and stars has taken to hiding behind the clouds so I can barely see my hand when I begin to ascend the steps to the hill behind the manor where he lies. Step up, step up, step up is the only thing that goes through my mind the entire time. I don't know why I chose to visit his grave tonight. After nearly six years of living under a fog, something inside tells that perhaps I can find sanctuary there. It is a place where I can let my mask and façade drop; no one can see me in the dead of night. I stumble due to the darkness and my lack of attention to my surroundings, and nearly fall flat on my face. If that ahou had been present I would have never heard the end of it. "Man, what the hell is wrong with ya? You're the famous Wolf of Mibu and you're staggering around some rich snob's place like a drunken thief. Hey, are ya drunk?! Man, wait until I tell Kenshin." I allow myself a shadow of a smile as I imagine the scene with the tori atama flailing his arms wildly, his face contorting to show his every emotion. However, there is one flaw. The ahou believes the Wolf of Mibu to be dead, and for once he is right.
The Shisio incident had provided both bitter memories and a brief relief. Bitter memories due to seeing the Soujirou kid, who was an exact living replica of Okita. When he smiles, I see not him, but my lover beaming happily even in the most bleak of situations. If Soujirou came in contact with any mortal harm, I would have undoubtedly saved him, even if it jeopardized the mission. Unlike the days of Shinsengumi, I have nothing to loose. I sacrificed him once in order to fight for my country. It seems to have bought me nothing but pain.
Relief came from the one other who managed to get through my defenses, Sagara Sanosuke, the ahou. In some aspects he is like Okita with his constant optimism and determined fighting spirit. It was that spirit that killed Okita, and nearly killed Sanosuke. I'm unsure when I began referring to him as Sanosuke and not "ahou" in my mind. Perhaps it was when Shishio's fortress fell, and he shouted my name. We were indeed enemies, but he never hated me to the point he wished me dead, nor I him. I feared for his life when he battled Anji. When I was around him, I could begin to feel the briefest traces of emotion: fear, annoyance, amusement, and . happiness. Despite all that he has seen, Sanosuke still retains a childlike innocence, an endearing quality.
But he is gone from my world, and I have nothing left.
As this last thought passes across my mind, I arrive on the top of the hill. The moon reappears from its hiding place behind the clouds, allowing soft beams of light to illuminate a small, delicate sakura grove. Small, delicate, and beautiful, like the young man who rests beneath it. I approach his grave slowly as an illusory sense that time has stopped envelopes me.
Soushi Okita
First Captain of the Shinsengumi Wolves
Honorable Fighter of the Shogunate
These were the characters engraved upon his gravestone. To me he was much more. He was my only weakness, my hope, love, and my life. My life. I feel my left hand gripping the hilt of my katana with white knuckles. I had wanted him to seek help when I found him coughing up blood alone in his room, but he refused. He said it would cripple the Shisengumi. He knew he was going to die. So did I. Yet we lost anyway. The Inshin Shishi overthrew the Shogun, creating the Meiji government, and opening Japan to the outsiders. The way of samurai was gone, and the age of ancient Japan was over. Despite all this, Okita died.
I should have begged him to seek treatment, but I was the Wolf of Mibu, too proud to beg, too proud to admit my weakness. Subconsciously, I knew the repercussions of my pride though I never acknowledged them. I knew Okita would be taken from me. Yet I thought to do nothing until it was too late. Until he was dying in my arms, his blood spilling onto a tiny sakura sapling.
I marvel at the tree now; it has grown considerably since I last saw it, five years ago. However, that is not what held my attention. The sakura blossoms were in full bloom and they were not their natural shade of dusty pink or white. The blossoms are crimsom, the colour of blood.
Okita-san.
Ironically, this tree, that saw your last breath, would become a living personification of you. You bled inside, with the blood of others staining your hands on the outside. You never wanted to kill, and you asked me once if defending the Shogunate was worth this price. I said it was. You shouldn't have trusted me; it seems I can't even trust myself.
This bleeding sakura is also a painful reminder of my own inadequacies. I wasn't worthy of your love. I wasn't worth it. I never truly understood you, Okita. You should have fallen for someone else, someone who could fully return your boundless love without holding back, someone who could have actually taken care of you. I never understood why you chose me. Although brief hints of happiness once used to grace my features, I was always rather cold and withdrawn. You should have loved someone else. Because if you did, you might still be alive.
Shakily, I draw my katana from its sheath. I stare at the hilt as if it were another's hand on residing there, instead of my own. I have nothing to lose.
I want to die.
I raise the blade to slash down on my wrist.
I'm coming after you, Okita. Like I should have done years ago.
I do not feel any pain as the blade come in contact with my wrist, only force. I watched in utter indifference as my blood slid down my arm, freezing my skin like liquid ice. My vision blurs and I become light- headed from loss of blood. I'm dying.
Everything in my vision is fading, except for that little tree with the blood colour blossoms.
"Hajime!"
Okita?! Have I already slipped into the realm of death?
"HAJIME!"
Something has grabbed me and is shaking me, as if I were a rag doll. Suddenly, I notice that I still have a physical body to be shaken, an interesting revelation. Warmth flows back into my body as I stare in shock at the figure standing in front of me.
Despite all opposing evidence, I believe I am dead.
Because standing in front of me is the source of my pain, the one I loved more than life itself, the one I lost five years ago, Okita Soushi.
And I can only stare.
"Hajime!" Okita cries again and gives me another shake.
"Okita." I am surprised my tongue has regained mobility so quickly, for my mind is still far behind. My hand raises itself to stroke his cheek, and I notice there is nary a blemish where the gash on my wrist once was. The flower petal texture of Okita's skin is as familiar to me as touch of my own, and it still radiates warmth; although I remember clearly remember the frozen touch of death. Am I dreaming? Or was the last five years all a dream? Confusion and hope violently clash in my tempest tossed mind.
"How?" I finally manage to croak, holding on tight to Okita. I was terrified that he would disappear in an instant and I would once again be left alone.
"I do not wish to give you false hope, my dear Hajime. I died five years ago. The Gods allowed me to come down to Earth speak with you." His voice was steady and strong as he stated this, but his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Suddenly, I am at a loss as how to comfort him, so I simply stand there with my arms wrapped awkwardly around his lithe body. My realization of my own worthlessness comes flooding back to me. Even when I am given a second chance of a lifetime, I cannot comfort the one I love most. My eyes flash in anger at myself and I pull away from Okita sharply, ignoring the equally sharp stabbing pain inside. I was now beginning to wish him gone, and the skin on my wrists reopened. I don't deserve him. He doesn't need one such as me.
"Why tonight?" I whispered with my back to Okita. It was a partially rhetorical question.
"I begged them. Also, the Gods saw that you were going to take your own life. It wasn't your time yet, so they allowed me to attempt to stop you."
My face burned with shame. Both my lover and the higher order saw me at my lowest and pitied me. Okita would have never sunk to such levels. I now suppose I am truly weak and completely worthless, a not so interesting revelation.
"Damn it, Hajime!" cried Okita in desperation. Before I can process what was happening, he had already raised his hand and slapped me across the face. "Why must you think such things?!"
"I only think the truth that you could never realize in your foolishness," I snapped, turning to glare at the young man I had condemned a fool. I knew I probably deserved the slap for one reason or another, but the burning sting of my face did not fail to wound the sliver of pride I had left. My own rage tempted me to hurt Okita, both as a riposte and a way to show him what he had been so blind to all that time, along with how stupid he had been. My anger was then suddenly quelled when I saw the palpable grief on Okita's face, as if it was in response to my outburst. How.? It was then I genuinely realized what Okita had cried after his hand came in contact with my face. "Why must you think such things?!"
"How?" I echoed softly, despite the fact I doubted this was needed.
"I can sense your emotions," he replied. "I am always connected to you, whether you wish it or not. As will I always love you."
My tired spirit surrendered. I still believe it was his utterly unmoving stubbornness that carried Okita to his death, but I chose to do nothing because it would no effect. If I tried to push him away, it would only cause us both pain, but his heart would not be changed. Nor would mine. I finally understood that such things were his deliberate choice, and nothing I could have done or could do, would be able change that. Slowly, it began to feel as if the frozen wasteland inside me was thawing, and a fresh surge of stabbing agony crashed into me anew. "Aishiteru, kokoro no boku."*
"Arigato, kotaishi no ore,"** he replied grinning, despite the seriousness of the situation. I smirked in return, and, in one fluid movement, brought my mouth down upon his.
Okita allowed me entrance as his red-roseleaf lips parted, permitting me to plunder his mouth and seek familiarity once again. The taste of sake and bitter tears overwhelmed me as he kissed back with the fervent urgency only the damned can possess. It had been so long. Five years.only two words, but an eternity in hell to live. My hands sought anchor in Okita's long black hair, undoing the tie that held it up and causing the wind- tossed wave to cascade upon his soft back. He moaned into my mouth and pressed the entire length of his body against mine, so nothing parted us while his hands explored my body, of which he knew better than his own. If not for my essential need for air, we would have been content to remain that way evermore.
"Don't leave me," I begged through clenched teeth, as soon as I pulled away with regret. I cared no longer for pride or a shield against the pain; I would sell my very soul in desperation if I could remain with my heart.
"I can't," Okita answered calmly, tears now streaming down his fair face. "If I stayed I would slowly start to forget everything that happened when I was alive, and in the end I would just fade away to nothing. I know I'm selfish, but I couldn't bear it if I forgot and I no longer knew who you were, who you were to me." Sobs choked his voice as the last of his control evanesced. "Please, Hajime, forgive me."
I pulled him against me, and wiped away the unwilling tears that streaked his porcelain skin. "There is nothing to forgive, chibi miburo,"*** I murmured, stroking his back until his sobs subsided. "It is no fault of yours."
Okita looked up, surprised. "I ought to say that to you," he sniffed. "You blame yourself for all ill that befalls me, even the inevitable."
"I blamed myself simply because I believed I could have prevented some things."
"But, the reality of it is you could not have," remarked Okita, composure returning. "Do not blame yourself for what you could not control. My choices are my own, and if the consequences are the fault of anyone, it is mine." I nodded to show my assent. Silence reigned. "Hajime." whispered Okita as he reached to touch my face, "what could I do to make you happy?"
I stared at him blankly. I wished for him to return by my side, but that was impossibility; I am not heartless enough to force him through more hardships than he has already endured. "Nothing," I replied, trying to keep my bitterness from tainting my voice, "I am content as I am."
"So there is nothing I can do return you to the light," Okita repeated sadly. "Then my job is done here."
My eyes widened in horror; to lose him again would be too much to bear. Just a little longer. I felt myself holding on to Okita for dear life. I have neither the hope nor the will to continue living.
"You have to let me go. Don't you see? I'm not the one for you anymore. In this world, someone is waiting for you. You have to find them, and leave me behind. Only then can you be happy." Okita smiled, the sorrow in his eyes notwithstanding. At that moment I marveled at the strength held by his small body. Suddenly, great feathered wings the colour of untouched snow unfolded from his back, their emanating light blinding me. I felt soft lips come into contact with mine, and just as swiftly, the touch disappeared. However, the warm touch lingered, resonating from within. Then, a familiar voice whispered into my ear, "I have to leave. Aishiteru."
"I love you too," I called to the light surrounding me. Some liquid fell from my eyes onto my hand. I stared at the tiny droplets in wonder. What.? They were tears. It was the first time I remember ever crying in my lifetime, the first time I had cried for Okita. Once I had thought the action a weakness, but that belief has dissipated. I now suppose that sometimes one needs to be given the strength to cry. And perhaps. Just perhaps.they can also find the strength to go on. For the first time in five years, I felt a corner of my mouth lift to form an unfamiliar expression. It was a beginning.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tiny droplets of warm rain began to fall from the sky. Like tears they fell slowly at first and increased into a rushing torrent. The sakura tree with the blossoms of blood stood proudly, reveling in the touch of an angel's tears, as did the golden-eyed wolf standing beside it. They would live on. The stars above knew of this, and they were at peace, and they returned to grace the earth with their merry light.
.
.
.
Owari
.
.
.
*I love you, heart of mine
**Thank you, my prince
***little wolf
.
.
.
Author's Notes: I'M DONE!!! YAY!!! And it turned out halfway decent too, despite the fact I still think Saitou was a bit OOC. I'm sorry for the long time it took for me to update, but I'm lazy and I didn't want to do it until I was done so I would only have to do it once @_@x. It's also my first year in highschool and it's EVIL, I tell you, EVIL! Yeah. Anyhoo, thanks to Shiranai-Kyuri, Eevee, April-san, Black Twilight, Kotori-chan, Devil1, and Crystal 17 for being so supportive **hands out sundaes with Mokanas on top ^_~**, and for anyone else that reviews, I worship the ground you walk on. Ja!
Warning: Yaoi. Saitou/Okita pairing. Don't like, then don't read and don't bother me with half-ass complaints. Flames will be fed to my pet rabid hamster named Smeago'l. Have a nice day. ^_^
.
.
.
.
Blood Red Sakura
.
.
Tokyo, Japan (Edo)
.
May 30, 1872
.
It was midnight. A lone figure strode a single path near the outskirts of the city, walking under a heavy shroud of silence, ominous and oppressing. It was as if the world was dead along this path where no crickets chirped and no nightingale sang. Above, the moon danced across the night skies in its full glory, parting black clouds as it went while the stars looks on, twinkling merrily. They were the only ones who noticed the man below who melted into the inky darkness like he was a part of it.
The man was obviously a police officer, but he had an impressive aura that revealed himself to be no ordinary one. Proof of this also resided in the katana he wore at his waist. The man's build was like that of an alpha wolf: tall and lean, yet muscular. His jet black hair was slicked back except for several antennae-like bangs that hung over a harshly lined face. However, his most remarkable features were his eyes. They were gold of colour, and normally they had the uncanny ability to lay one's soul completely bare and mock one for their weakness. Here though, under the cover of night in seclusion, his once bright eyes were dull and defeated, the eyes of someone who had been broken or simply wasted away to nothing. This certain police inspector was too deep in thought to pay any heed to the celestial deities above, but they noticed him.
"Five years it has been since his presence graced this place," whispered a star.
"He has lost all will to live since then," another star whispered in return. "Dead inside, he is."
"We might see him soon, that we might."
The stars were silent, pondering the weight of this statement.
"Where is Okita?" the first star inquired.
"Begging the Guardian to allow him to go down to Earth."
"What is the Guardian's reply?"
"You know the rules. It must be two centuries after an angel's passing before they can return to Earth, much less consort with a mortal."
"Hm. Then it is time I pay the Guardian a visit," mused the star aloud as she disappeared from the night sky.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I stand outside the large estates of what had once been a tuberculosis hospital. I sneer in disgust, for even in times of peace humans have no compassion for each other; they are consumed in their own petty lives, worrying only about wealth and personal power. After the doctors who ran the hospital decided they weren't making enough of a profit, they sold the place, including the sakura grove in the back where the first captain of the Shinsengumi, Okita Soushi, was buried. Sometimes, I long for the chaos of the Bakumatsu. At least then Aku Soku Zan had been fully applicable. I must admit that part of myself is glad that the place had been sold. The stench of death has faded and it gives me an excuse not to come here, even if the only person I provide with this pitiful excuse is myself.
I climb over the wall surrounding the manor with the ease of a shadow. As a police officer, I am well aware that I am trespassing. However, to the world I am Fujita Gorou, a minor police officer with no notable role in Bakumatsu and no reason to be visiting the grave of one of the most admirable warriors of the Shinsengumi. Hajime Saitou, third captain of the Shisengumi, on the other hand, is dead, burned to ashes in the hell of Shisho's fortress. At this, I smirk bitterly to myself. One dead man comes to visit another, but realms still separate us. Why, damn it? Why aren't I by your side? Suddenly, the aching in my chest sharpens as if someone has taken the knife embedded there and twisted it. I bit back the gasp of pain, and my vision blurs.
As I steady myself, I shove all thoughts of him into the crevices of my mind, and curse myself for my weakness. The emptiness inside takes its toll, leaving my entire body cold and numb. It's a feeling I've become accustomed to. I no long allow myself to experience emotions, ever since he died. It's always the same unrelenting tidal wave of pain that I can never make subside. At times I wonder if it's normal to never feel anything, to live in total apathy. Perhaps I am going insane.
The full moon and stars has taken to hiding behind the clouds so I can barely see my hand when I begin to ascend the steps to the hill behind the manor where he lies. Step up, step up, step up is the only thing that goes through my mind the entire time. I don't know why I chose to visit his grave tonight. After nearly six years of living under a fog, something inside tells that perhaps I can find sanctuary there. It is a place where I can let my mask and façade drop; no one can see me in the dead of night. I stumble due to the darkness and my lack of attention to my surroundings, and nearly fall flat on my face. If that ahou had been present I would have never heard the end of it. "Man, what the hell is wrong with ya? You're the famous Wolf of Mibu and you're staggering around some rich snob's place like a drunken thief. Hey, are ya drunk?! Man, wait until I tell Kenshin." I allow myself a shadow of a smile as I imagine the scene with the tori atama flailing his arms wildly, his face contorting to show his every emotion. However, there is one flaw. The ahou believes the Wolf of Mibu to be dead, and for once he is right.
The Shisio incident had provided both bitter memories and a brief relief. Bitter memories due to seeing the Soujirou kid, who was an exact living replica of Okita. When he smiles, I see not him, but my lover beaming happily even in the most bleak of situations. If Soujirou came in contact with any mortal harm, I would have undoubtedly saved him, even if it jeopardized the mission. Unlike the days of Shinsengumi, I have nothing to loose. I sacrificed him once in order to fight for my country. It seems to have bought me nothing but pain.
Relief came from the one other who managed to get through my defenses, Sagara Sanosuke, the ahou. In some aspects he is like Okita with his constant optimism and determined fighting spirit. It was that spirit that killed Okita, and nearly killed Sanosuke. I'm unsure when I began referring to him as Sanosuke and not "ahou" in my mind. Perhaps it was when Shishio's fortress fell, and he shouted my name. We were indeed enemies, but he never hated me to the point he wished me dead, nor I him. I feared for his life when he battled Anji. When I was around him, I could begin to feel the briefest traces of emotion: fear, annoyance, amusement, and . happiness. Despite all that he has seen, Sanosuke still retains a childlike innocence, an endearing quality.
But he is gone from my world, and I have nothing left.
As this last thought passes across my mind, I arrive on the top of the hill. The moon reappears from its hiding place behind the clouds, allowing soft beams of light to illuminate a small, delicate sakura grove. Small, delicate, and beautiful, like the young man who rests beneath it. I approach his grave slowly as an illusory sense that time has stopped envelopes me.
Soushi Okita
First Captain of the Shinsengumi Wolves
Honorable Fighter of the Shogunate
These were the characters engraved upon his gravestone. To me he was much more. He was my only weakness, my hope, love, and my life. My life. I feel my left hand gripping the hilt of my katana with white knuckles. I had wanted him to seek help when I found him coughing up blood alone in his room, but he refused. He said it would cripple the Shisengumi. He knew he was going to die. So did I. Yet we lost anyway. The Inshin Shishi overthrew the Shogun, creating the Meiji government, and opening Japan to the outsiders. The way of samurai was gone, and the age of ancient Japan was over. Despite all this, Okita died.
I should have begged him to seek treatment, but I was the Wolf of Mibu, too proud to beg, too proud to admit my weakness. Subconsciously, I knew the repercussions of my pride though I never acknowledged them. I knew Okita would be taken from me. Yet I thought to do nothing until it was too late. Until he was dying in my arms, his blood spilling onto a tiny sakura sapling.
I marvel at the tree now; it has grown considerably since I last saw it, five years ago. However, that is not what held my attention. The sakura blossoms were in full bloom and they were not their natural shade of dusty pink or white. The blossoms are crimsom, the colour of blood.
Okita-san.
Ironically, this tree, that saw your last breath, would become a living personification of you. You bled inside, with the blood of others staining your hands on the outside. You never wanted to kill, and you asked me once if defending the Shogunate was worth this price. I said it was. You shouldn't have trusted me; it seems I can't even trust myself.
This bleeding sakura is also a painful reminder of my own inadequacies. I wasn't worthy of your love. I wasn't worth it. I never truly understood you, Okita. You should have fallen for someone else, someone who could fully return your boundless love without holding back, someone who could have actually taken care of you. I never understood why you chose me. Although brief hints of happiness once used to grace my features, I was always rather cold and withdrawn. You should have loved someone else. Because if you did, you might still be alive.
Shakily, I draw my katana from its sheath. I stare at the hilt as if it were another's hand on residing there, instead of my own. I have nothing to lose.
I want to die.
I raise the blade to slash down on my wrist.
I'm coming after you, Okita. Like I should have done years ago.
I do not feel any pain as the blade come in contact with my wrist, only force. I watched in utter indifference as my blood slid down my arm, freezing my skin like liquid ice. My vision blurs and I become light- headed from loss of blood. I'm dying.
Everything in my vision is fading, except for that little tree with the blood colour blossoms.
"Hajime!"
Okita?! Have I already slipped into the realm of death?
"HAJIME!"
Something has grabbed me and is shaking me, as if I were a rag doll. Suddenly, I notice that I still have a physical body to be shaken, an interesting revelation. Warmth flows back into my body as I stare in shock at the figure standing in front of me.
Despite all opposing evidence, I believe I am dead.
Because standing in front of me is the source of my pain, the one I loved more than life itself, the one I lost five years ago, Okita Soushi.
And I can only stare.
"Hajime!" Okita cries again and gives me another shake.
"Okita." I am surprised my tongue has regained mobility so quickly, for my mind is still far behind. My hand raises itself to stroke his cheek, and I notice there is nary a blemish where the gash on my wrist once was. The flower petal texture of Okita's skin is as familiar to me as touch of my own, and it still radiates warmth; although I remember clearly remember the frozen touch of death. Am I dreaming? Or was the last five years all a dream? Confusion and hope violently clash in my tempest tossed mind.
"How?" I finally manage to croak, holding on tight to Okita. I was terrified that he would disappear in an instant and I would once again be left alone.
"I do not wish to give you false hope, my dear Hajime. I died five years ago. The Gods allowed me to come down to Earth speak with you." His voice was steady and strong as he stated this, but his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Suddenly, I am at a loss as how to comfort him, so I simply stand there with my arms wrapped awkwardly around his lithe body. My realization of my own worthlessness comes flooding back to me. Even when I am given a second chance of a lifetime, I cannot comfort the one I love most. My eyes flash in anger at myself and I pull away from Okita sharply, ignoring the equally sharp stabbing pain inside. I was now beginning to wish him gone, and the skin on my wrists reopened. I don't deserve him. He doesn't need one such as me.
"Why tonight?" I whispered with my back to Okita. It was a partially rhetorical question.
"I begged them. Also, the Gods saw that you were going to take your own life. It wasn't your time yet, so they allowed me to attempt to stop you."
My face burned with shame. Both my lover and the higher order saw me at my lowest and pitied me. Okita would have never sunk to such levels. I now suppose I am truly weak and completely worthless, a not so interesting revelation.
"Damn it, Hajime!" cried Okita in desperation. Before I can process what was happening, he had already raised his hand and slapped me across the face. "Why must you think such things?!"
"I only think the truth that you could never realize in your foolishness," I snapped, turning to glare at the young man I had condemned a fool. I knew I probably deserved the slap for one reason or another, but the burning sting of my face did not fail to wound the sliver of pride I had left. My own rage tempted me to hurt Okita, both as a riposte and a way to show him what he had been so blind to all that time, along with how stupid he had been. My anger was then suddenly quelled when I saw the palpable grief on Okita's face, as if it was in response to my outburst. How.? It was then I genuinely realized what Okita had cried after his hand came in contact with my face. "Why must you think such things?!"
"How?" I echoed softly, despite the fact I doubted this was needed.
"I can sense your emotions," he replied. "I am always connected to you, whether you wish it or not. As will I always love you."
My tired spirit surrendered. I still believe it was his utterly unmoving stubbornness that carried Okita to his death, but I chose to do nothing because it would no effect. If I tried to push him away, it would only cause us both pain, but his heart would not be changed. Nor would mine. I finally understood that such things were his deliberate choice, and nothing I could have done or could do, would be able change that. Slowly, it began to feel as if the frozen wasteland inside me was thawing, and a fresh surge of stabbing agony crashed into me anew. "Aishiteru, kokoro no boku."*
"Arigato, kotaishi no ore,"** he replied grinning, despite the seriousness of the situation. I smirked in return, and, in one fluid movement, brought my mouth down upon his.
Okita allowed me entrance as his red-roseleaf lips parted, permitting me to plunder his mouth and seek familiarity once again. The taste of sake and bitter tears overwhelmed me as he kissed back with the fervent urgency only the damned can possess. It had been so long. Five years.only two words, but an eternity in hell to live. My hands sought anchor in Okita's long black hair, undoing the tie that held it up and causing the wind- tossed wave to cascade upon his soft back. He moaned into my mouth and pressed the entire length of his body against mine, so nothing parted us while his hands explored my body, of which he knew better than his own. If not for my essential need for air, we would have been content to remain that way evermore.
"Don't leave me," I begged through clenched teeth, as soon as I pulled away with regret. I cared no longer for pride or a shield against the pain; I would sell my very soul in desperation if I could remain with my heart.
"I can't," Okita answered calmly, tears now streaming down his fair face. "If I stayed I would slowly start to forget everything that happened when I was alive, and in the end I would just fade away to nothing. I know I'm selfish, but I couldn't bear it if I forgot and I no longer knew who you were, who you were to me." Sobs choked his voice as the last of his control evanesced. "Please, Hajime, forgive me."
I pulled him against me, and wiped away the unwilling tears that streaked his porcelain skin. "There is nothing to forgive, chibi miburo,"*** I murmured, stroking his back until his sobs subsided. "It is no fault of yours."
Okita looked up, surprised. "I ought to say that to you," he sniffed. "You blame yourself for all ill that befalls me, even the inevitable."
"I blamed myself simply because I believed I could have prevented some things."
"But, the reality of it is you could not have," remarked Okita, composure returning. "Do not blame yourself for what you could not control. My choices are my own, and if the consequences are the fault of anyone, it is mine." I nodded to show my assent. Silence reigned. "Hajime." whispered Okita as he reached to touch my face, "what could I do to make you happy?"
I stared at him blankly. I wished for him to return by my side, but that was impossibility; I am not heartless enough to force him through more hardships than he has already endured. "Nothing," I replied, trying to keep my bitterness from tainting my voice, "I am content as I am."
"So there is nothing I can do return you to the light," Okita repeated sadly. "Then my job is done here."
My eyes widened in horror; to lose him again would be too much to bear. Just a little longer. I felt myself holding on to Okita for dear life. I have neither the hope nor the will to continue living.
"You have to let me go. Don't you see? I'm not the one for you anymore. In this world, someone is waiting for you. You have to find them, and leave me behind. Only then can you be happy." Okita smiled, the sorrow in his eyes notwithstanding. At that moment I marveled at the strength held by his small body. Suddenly, great feathered wings the colour of untouched snow unfolded from his back, their emanating light blinding me. I felt soft lips come into contact with mine, and just as swiftly, the touch disappeared. However, the warm touch lingered, resonating from within. Then, a familiar voice whispered into my ear, "I have to leave. Aishiteru."
"I love you too," I called to the light surrounding me. Some liquid fell from my eyes onto my hand. I stared at the tiny droplets in wonder. What.? They were tears. It was the first time I remember ever crying in my lifetime, the first time I had cried for Okita. Once I had thought the action a weakness, but that belief has dissipated. I now suppose that sometimes one needs to be given the strength to cry. And perhaps. Just perhaps.they can also find the strength to go on. For the first time in five years, I felt a corner of my mouth lift to form an unfamiliar expression. It was a beginning.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tiny droplets of warm rain began to fall from the sky. Like tears they fell slowly at first and increased into a rushing torrent. The sakura tree with the blossoms of blood stood proudly, reveling in the touch of an angel's tears, as did the golden-eyed wolf standing beside it. They would live on. The stars above knew of this, and they were at peace, and they returned to grace the earth with their merry light.
.
.
.
Owari
.
.
.
*I love you, heart of mine
**Thank you, my prince
***little wolf
.
.
.
Author's Notes: I'M DONE!!! YAY!!! And it turned out halfway decent too, despite the fact I still think Saitou was a bit OOC. I'm sorry for the long time it took for me to update, but I'm lazy and I didn't want to do it until I was done so I would only have to do it once @_@x. It's also my first year in highschool and it's EVIL, I tell you, EVIL! Yeah. Anyhoo, thanks to Shiranai-Kyuri, Eevee, April-san, Black Twilight, Kotori-chan, Devil1, and Crystal 17 for being so supportive **hands out sundaes with Mokanas on top ^_~**, and for anyone else that reviews, I worship the ground you walk on. Ja!