A/N: This story is based off a timeline in which the members of the Shinsengumi have not died yet, except for Kondo Isami, who has already been executed prior to the downfall of the Shinsengumi. .

Please note that the rasetsu or furies do not exist in this story, nor do demons or oni. This means Chizuru is a perfectly normal girl and has no special powers whatsoever. Enjoy!

Reviews are appreciated!

Prologue

"The shattering of a heart when being broken is the loudest quiet ever."

The war was over.

They had lost.

The Satsuma-Choshu alliance had prevailed in the end. All the efforts the Shinsengumi, the Wolves of Mibu, had fought for was lost and forgotten.

And with that, the Shinsengumi were branded as the villains. Ruffians who defied their ways, rejected them, fought them and spilt blood. And they deserved their eminent deaths. The Shinsengumi, their captains and commanders, were to be jailed and trialed for treason. For their part in the war, for the sweat and tears, they were to rot in the cells of the alliance, or be executed without the honour of committing seppuku.

But perhaps the one who suffered the most was young Okita Souji. How desperately he clawed for death. How useless he was now, knowing that the Shinsengumi, whom he served as a living weapon, had fallen out of grace. He was useless now, just an empty shell suffering through endless pain and heaving coughs that ended with splatters of blood. Useless, now, that Hijikata Toshizo was awaiting execution, following the footsteps of the late Kondo Isami. There was no way the Shinsengumi could pick up their feet and return to what they once were. All of them paid the price for what they had done. But Okita did not regret his actions one bit. He did not regret the many lives he had taken. After all, he was known for not having any qualms for ending the life of others. A killing machine. A monster. That was what he was. What else could he live for?

The young man's mind began to wander off, back to the times where his life had been more at peace. A young girl surfaced the memories not tainted by blood and screams of the Shinsengumi men. Friendly, optimistic, amusingly shy. The way her brown eyes always lit up as she served them tea, or her furrowed eyebrows and concentrated look whenever she worked away at their meals. She was always finding herself something to do, sweeping the courtyard or helping Sanosuke with the shopping. Her selflessness and her kindness were something none of them could ever forget.

And those times where she would sit by his futon and calm his writhing body. Place a damp towel over his forehead to cool him down, or wipe off his gathering sweat. Cook porridge, without green onions, and sometimes even feed it to him. Her unconditional love and treatment of him… he hated it. He hated how she always treated him so kindly as if out of pity. There was nothing more he disliked than others pitying him. But she did not care at all. She was stubborn, that one, in the fact that she wanted to care for him. No matter how many times he chased her away, shouted at her and yelled at her, even hurt her delicate feelings and made tears prick the corners of her eyes, the next morning appearing by his bedside once more with slightly red eyes… it hurt him as well, shattering his heart into a million pieces. But he couldn't help but find it endearing. There was no other girl like her he knew.

The first few weeks in the cell, this rotten, stinking cell, he had found himself worrying for her life. What had happened to her? Did she run away and hide herself like any sane woman would? But Okita knew that she did not always made the wisest of choices. All he knew was that he did not see her at the gathering of the Shinsengumi men, tied up and unable to move or draw their swords – if they had managed to sneak any weapons in the first place. But he was glad that she was not among them. Perhaps the Satsuma-Choshu men had not recognized her as one of the Shinsengumi and had let her be. The green-eyed man sighed and closed his eyes. She should be able to live a happy and fulfilling life, no longer bound by the men of the Shinsengumi. She may have been one of them in spirit, but she was not an official member. No harm would befall on her anymore.

The man had ordered the doctor to check over the young man's body to the best of his abilities. Men who were fit and capable were sometimes considered to be enslaved and force to rebuild some of the buildings of the city, scars of the war. But some, who were considered to be dangerous, were to be executed. Especially with men like Okita Souji. The looming, shadowed man was watching the inspection with interest, eyeing the deathly glare that never wavered from the swordsman before him. Yet, instead of the declaring his state of health like he had for the previous hundreds of men, the doctor stood up with an expression of surprise. Moving aside, they began to whisper.

"It is in the best interest that we do not move him to the fields to work, my lord." The doctor's voice was stern, but he truly did not care for the future of the young man.

"So he will face execution?" The voice was laced with confusion, this indecision had not happened before.

"It depends on the decision of my lord. However… I believe that Okita Souji suffers from tuberculosis. His body shows several signs… plus, one of the guards had mentioned his lack of appetite on the way here, my lord."

"Tuberculosis? Is that not terminal? Interesting…" Rubbing his chin, the shadowed man turned his eyes towards the swordsman, whose eyes were still filled with hatred and determination of some sort.

Wasted potential. If only he had been working on their side… he would have been a legendary figure.

"Let him suffer a painful death. Lock him up." His voice rung out sure and true. And before Okita knew it, he was hauled out of the dark room. And then he was gone.

"And stay in!" A voice broke through the usual silence of the cell, followed by the sound of a woman, shouting her protests. There was a break of light in the darkness of the room as the door was thrown wide open. What little light the small window at the top of the back wall gave was suddenly amplified by the almost blinding colours from the door that closed Okita off from the world.

A shrill voice rang out. "Stop! Please! Let me go!"

There was a slam, the cell was closed once more.

There was something about it that sounded so familiar. Like he had heard it before. The way the woman's voice brought back a flood of memories, both ones he would rather forget and those he would treasure forever. A voice that made his blood run cold, thoughts of her safety crushed and ruined in a single sweep.

That sobbing, that crying, the collapsing of the body and the gasps for air as the woman began to weep. It was all too familiar. Had she not also did the same when she sat by his futon, clutching at his hand when he had gone through an episode, scarlet blood trickling from the corner of his lips and down, leaving a puddle by the futon? Had she not been crying and begging for him to live and survive and that everything would be alright? She was there, brewing the medicine for him, soaking the medicinal leaves that the doctor had prescribed him, cried when the young man had thrown the bowl to the floor, smashing it and yelling at her to get out.

Because he didn't want to hurt her.

He thought she was safe, in the right hands, away from violence and the terrors of the blade.

But she was here.

Okita had never been afraid before. Not even of death. He embraced it. Those who killed others were always expecting the same fate for themselves.

But for the first time, he was scared.

He opened his green eyes a crack, turning his head from tattered futon that lay spread out on the dusty, dirt-covered floor of his cell towards the door that had just been closed, at the figure who sat there, the back of someone whom he hoped was not who he thought was.

"Chizuru...-chan?"