Battlefield is no drama show. Hijikata's point of view.

I didn't really know how it has come to this. Blood dripping, no, flooding from my nose, arms and legs in fessels. Someone grabbing at my hair to direct my gaze at my comrade who was encircled by our enemies. A countless amount of samurais. Terrorists.

"You bastards! I'm not afraid of neither of you!" A psychotic scream. How very typical of Okita. Never admitting defeat.

"You brat. We've captured your beloved captain, and you can't do anything in your position, too." Okita didn't even spare me a glaze. "So what he's not my beloved ANYTHING. And you can't do anything, see. You don't stand a chance against ME." He was in rage, totally inappropriate, since he was just as captured as I was. I wanted to say something but my throat went dry. I'd like some mayonnaise right now. Or a smoke.

"I want him to die anyway." Now that's some news.

"Oh. Sure that you do? Aren't the two of you always together?" One of the enemies grinned and I kinda felt like I've missed the joke.

"So what if we do. YOU'll never defeat me. You might do with me as you like, you're just a bunch of weak idiots." My lovely psycho spit in the direction of the talking samurai. "Now. YOU." The samurai grabbed at Okita's hair and pulled his face up. "We'll teach you what real pain is, imbecile." Okita laughed. "So what, do what you want. You may all do me, I don't care, I despise you, you'll never break me." "Hn, we're gonna fuck you over just like your lovely captain does."

I averted my eyes a bit. Of course, those were the rumors, of course those were also true. I felt the urge to throw up.

"He doesn't. In fact. I hate him, I told you before, there's nothing between him and me. I'd rather have all of you fuck me than him." Okita smiled. To the others he may have seemed confident, but to me he seemed oh so fragile. I knew he was quite at the verge of insanity. But then, I didn't say anything to defend, anything to save him. Why so? Do his words hurt me? No. I'd just rather not be fucked by any dirt-eating dogs.

I heard clothes being ripped apart. And Okita still whining about how he didn't care about the whole situation and how he despised me. Okay, if he thinks so, fine.

It's not like I'm madly in love with him, it's not like I feel the urge to protect him. The time we spent together was fine, but nothing you couldn't do without. His words don't hurt me, they barely have any significance.

But then, it rather struck me.

This is typical of Okita. He never told the truth. The many times we got closer he always whispered how he hated me and how I shouldn't touch him. The whole time. I guess it kinda got him off. I've never paid too much attention, but that's how he works. Always in denial. And he got sully if I actually did stop touching him and turned away. He didn't want me to, really.

So, did he expect me to take action now? To cry and to beg the others to let him be? I shrugged.

This reminds me. A few days ago we were watching our favourite show, there was some scene which kinda resembles our situation now. Some samurais fighting, one of them getting hurt and telling the other one to continue without him. But his friend makes quite a bit of a drama show and screaming he won't ever leave without his friend. Stuff like that. I was quite bored, so I glanced over to Okita, and there he sat, with rather reddened cheeks. He didn't notice me glancing and I was kinda enthralled. He was so enthusiastic over this… cheap cliché drama. Fascinating.

But, in this situation, I don't feel like playing the hero. I don't feel like putting my life on the line.

I'm sorry Okita, my love for you isn't stronger than my repulsion of being harmed by those people. I'm sorry, I don't feel like getting raped just for your sake. Sorry, Okita, this isn't your drama show. It's real life.