Ding Dong!
Ding Dong!
Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
"Wait a sec, I'm coming! Geez..."
Shinpachi opened the door to a frowning Okita, finger glued to the doorbell. The doorbell continued to ring.
"Cut it out! I'm right here!!"
"Ah, so you are," Okita smiled, a touch sadistically. "Well, invite me in."
"Why are you here?" Shinpachi countered, guarding the doorway.
"Official Shinsengumi business."
"Then why are you in normal clothes?" Shinpachi gestured towards Okita's hakama.
"That is none of your business. I suggest you let me in."
Okita started to gain a smidgen of respect for Shinpachi's intellect for seeing through his bluff, but the feeling died as Shinpachi, still wary, moved aside and let Okita walk past him into the living room. Okita would never let a soul know that the "official" business was a commission from the love-struck Gorilla stalker, who unfortunately threatened Okita with 2 months of toilet duty if he did not deliver a letter to Otae-san.
"Go deliver it yourself, sir."
"What? You know I can't! Besides, I overheard her tell one of her customers last night she was going over to a friend's house for nabe tomorrow so she wouldn't be at work. What other 'friends' besides the Yorozuya people does she have? You've got to take this to her!"
Kondo held out what looked like yet another proposal letter to Okita. Okita eyed it suspiciously, as if it contained one of his letter bombs to Hijikata.
"Please ask Hijikata-san to do it. I'm sure he will gladly go." And if I have any luck, I can slip him something before he takes it...poison on the envelope might work...
Such pleasant thoughts were rudely interrupted by a resounding "No!" from Kondo.
"Don't you remember Hijikata is on patrol duty at the terminal today? It has to be you!"
"Ok, got it."
Okita wondered, as he got into his coat and shoes to go out, what the possibility of a freak spaceship crash at the terminal today would be.
"It's cold!" Shinpachi complained as he shut the door on the wind. "I'll get you some tea."
"Is the yorozuya danna here?" Or anyone else, Okita thought as he sat down at the kotatsu.
"Danna...oh, Gin-san went out to buy Jump. He forgot again that it came out on Saturday, so it might be a while before he can find one and get back."
Ah, now to get to who I really want to know about. "Anyone else?"
"And my sister was here, but she got angry too. She said we didn't have any bagen dash, and somehow even though it's cold she needed that, so she went to buy it and some more stuff for nabe."
So they are having nabe. Good ears you have, captain.
"I think she took Kagura with her, but I'm not sure if Kagura actually went, since she didn't want to go out in the cold." Shinpachi came back from the kitchen, holding a cup of tea, careful not to burn himself.
"Here's your tea." He placed it on the kotatsu, within easy reach of where Okita had seated himself under it. "Well, if you don't mind waiting for them, or whatever you need, you can watch TV or something. I've got some stuff to do in the kitchen for the nabe. There's this good drama rerun that comes on soon..."
Will he ever stop talking? How does the Yorozuya Danna stand it?
The sounds of Shinpachi talking faded away into the kitchen, to be replaced by Otsu-chan singing "Chome Chome." Okita looked around the room, bored.
Sugar content plaque, ugly old TV that looks like it barely works, a desk...probably where the Yorozuya Danna keeps his porn.
Okita contemplated going over to find the stash he just KNEW was there, but he couldn't be bothered. It was nice and warm under the kotatsu. As his gaze shifted from a potentially law-breaking, porn stashed desk to the kotatsu, he realized he wasn't actually alone in the room. Someone's foot poked out from under the kotatsu blanket. Someone's small foot, and Okita knew exactly whose it was. He tentatively poked his foot further under the kotatsu, and soon met what could only be a leg. Cautiously, for one could not be too careful when dealing with what could be a lethal stealth attack, Okita withdrew his foot, lifted the blanket a fraction, and went down under it to plumb the depths of the kotatsu. What met him was not the flailing fist of an enraged Yato clansman--as he expected--but the face of an akuma made calm by sleep.
Okita nearly pulled back from under the blanket in surprise, her face was so close to his. He stared at her, dead asleep on her side, for nearly a minute, his body tense,ready to spring into either defense or offense just in case she was only feigning sleep. Slowly he relaxed and even allowed a small smile to form around the corners of his mouth as Kagura mumbled, "Sadaharu, stop!"
What evil dream must she be imagining? he thought, and the smile turned into a sadistic grin. This will teach her.
He eased his body further under the blanket and leaned over her left ear. Then he thought of eating the juiciest steak he could imagine, and licked her ear, salivating as much as humanly possible. Kagura moaned and reached up to her ear. He pulled his head up sharply to avoid her hand, and knocked his head against the top of the kotatsu, almost crying out a curse at the sudden pain. He glared down at her as she settled now on her back. Her face was far too close to his.
It's too hot under here. Must be why my heart is pounding so hard. That, and I can't let her wake up, or more than just my head will hurt.
Kagura let out another small sigh.
Crap. Now I feel a twinge in my stomach. Do I have an ulcer?
He continued to stare at her, the sweat beading in places he did not care to think about, and throbbing in others that should not when one is trying to contemplate the real threat of stomach ulcers. His eyes moved over her still dripping ear to her closed eyes...ulcers...down the curve of her nose...could even need surgery for them...to her slightly open mouth...and at that moment Okita took leave of his senses. In that moment of insanity all thoughts of headache and ulcers vanished; he leaned down, and put his lips on hers.
Kagura had a hard time taking Sadaharu for a walk in her dream. He yapped at a dog in a car, causing the alarm to go off, which in dreamland sounded a lot like the front door bell. After a few precisely given kicks she succeeded in dragging him away. Next he decided to run like mad and sniff at some disgusting substance on the sidewalk, and she had to yell and pull again. Then he decided nasty stuff on the sidewalk was not enough to lick at, and turned to share his spoils with her. Unheeding of her flailing arms he attacked and knocked her over on her side. He licked her ear and she tried to swat him away. He just sat there over her, panting, tongue lolled out.
"Great," she moaned. "He's decided to lick my face now that he's pinned me."
She sighed, and screwed up her face, waiting for the inevitable deluge of saliva...but when it came, it wasn't wet. It was soft. Light. It felt so nice she opened her mouth a bit more, and he...
"HE!?!" a voice in her head screamed. "Who is HE?" it demanded of the dream, but the dream did not answer. The dream was only dark.
Who was it? "It damn straight wasn't Sadaharu," the voice insisted. "Better see who..."
Kagura's eyes popped open. They widened in dismay. Shock. Horror. Slight revulsion. Her mouth was being kissed--and was liking it until a moment ago--by him. Him. Of all people.
I think Sadaharu would've been better, she thought wildly. Take me back. W-w-wait. This could be one of those dream-within-a-dream things Gin-chan tried to explain to me once. That the Hamnet guy talked about in that play...or was that something else. Regardless, it went along the lines of 'if you're in one, make sure you're really awake by pinching yourself. Otherwise you'll do some embarrassing things, like buying Jump in your underwear.'
Well pinching would do but not on her, because whatever Gin-chan advised, pinching hurt. She wasn't about to inflict pain on herself even if it was only just in a double dream thingy. So she did the sensible, if not bright, thing. She slipped her hand in between the folds of Okita's hakama, near his hip, and pinched a bit of skin between his ribs. Hard.
To her dismay, Kagura found that reality is harsh. Even if one tries to avoid reality, most often reality manages to feed one large dishes of itself. Kagura thought of reality after this metaphorically as a plate of curry, whose steam did not denote temperature. Oh how it gave heartburn and the runs afterwards. Reality at this point, to Okita, was like asking for Hijikata's head on a platter, and finding the head could still give orders to him in that insanely apathetic voice. Reality was hellish curry, and reality was a disembodied, living head. Such were the thoughts of those two frightening minds, each in pain, each too close for comfort under the kotatsu, each wishing for sweet unconsciousness, that blissful goddess, to take them out of the clutches of hellish curry and Hijikata's undead head.
A small trickle of blood spilled over Kagura's hand, which oddly enough had stayed touching his warm, slightly sweaty skin. His skin was so soft, her hand all on its own decided to investigate further, and slid down to his left hip. There it stayed, fingertips alight on his skin, and she wondered at how thin he was there. She could feel his bone, so close to his skin, nearly poking out. These humans seemed normal, but felt strange underneath their clothes.
But maybe it was still a dream? Kagura bit her lip to see if somehow she'd got this reality-dream business horribly wrong. Nope.Her lip opened and she could faintly taste blood now. This was hell curry all right.
Despite the heat of the kotatsu, Okita shivered. He couldn't figure out whether this was due to blood loss (not considerable though) or fear of the soft fingers on his skin that wouldn't go away. Is she planning to break my hip bone now? He started to sweat again as her hand settled, again as if possessed by a mind of its own, into the crease where his waist and hip met. It felt right that her hand was there, calm and cool against his hot skin.
Then he looked up and saw her lip bleeding, a little river of blood down her white chin. Another moment of insanity came upon him. "Kondo-san will take me to a hospital for the mentally ill," he thought, as his left hand slid up her arm. His forefinger whiped away the blood, slid down the side of her cheek. My head is broken. His thumb rested under her chin. I must have broken my head on the kotatsu. The rest of his fingers slid down to her throat. What the hell is that thing made of, to break my head? And why is her skin so damn soft?
Still mesmerized by the feel of Okita's skin, Kagura was immune to all other sensations, like that of blood running down her face. To be honest, that happened often enough when one lived with Gin-chan and Shinpachi. Just the other day even, Gin-chan knocked Shinpachi and Kagura's heads together so hard a molar came out of her mouth, with the accompanying gush of fresh blood. Shinpachi and Gin-chan both nearly fainted and yelled at her to "pull yourself together, DAMMIT!!" so loud she had to tell them the Yato clan lost their molars twice in their lives to get them to shut up. "It's like you're more shark than human," Gin-chan accused suspiciously. Then came Okita's careful hand, taking the blood off her face. She wondered vaguely as his fingers moved to her throat if he was going to strangle her in retribution for the pinch. She had done it hard out of spite. Expecting the worst, her eyes lifted to his.
It was then that Kagura told herself she was not fully awake, like that time Gin-chan was so angry when she poured his strawberry milk instead of soy sauce onto her rice for breakfast. He didn't know she'd still been half-asleep. All the colors kind of blended together when that happened. Things sort of fell apart in her brain during sleep, and only came back together after a long shower and several cups of tea. It was that which had to explain what she did next, which was to reach up with her other arm, pull his head down the short distance between the two of them, and kiss him.
Oh shit. She's going to try to bite me now, Okita thought as the long, slow kiss opened up once again. She's decided breaking my bones is not enough, I have to have my tongue bitten off. Kondo-san is going to have to have them sew it back on before they do my mental examination at the hospital. Okita decided the only wise course of action was to accept the inevitable, and with boldness that only army generals, tightrope walkers, and anyone accompanying Prince Oji on a hunt for one of his pets have ever experienced, his tongue entered her mouth.
The sensations which followed cannot be properly described in words. Neither one of them could ever do it justice, even with one of those rare, sake induced oratory flights of brilliance. It tasted sweet, though spit mixed with blood, and each felt the other's soul open as the kiss did. It was freeing, yet binding, calm, yet passionate, and yet much, much more than all this. During such kisses, all thoughts cease. That is why they are indescribable.
It was during this kiss that Okita's hand found itself irresistibly drawn down, closer and closer to Kagura's left breast. "Gravity," claimed Okita later. "It happens to the best of us men." "Who are you calling a man?" Hijikata asked, taking a side glance at what Okita was fixated on: a picture of a man groping the biggest tits it appeared he'd ever seen. "And what does gravity have to do with this porno stash we confiscated? Get out of here before you become a pervert!" Or maybe he already is, Hijikata thought.
His hand brushed it, uncertain at first, then settled heavy on it. There was barely enough to fit his hand, yet it was perfectly shaped, at least to him it was. Kagura moaned once more. Her left hand decided it had similar thoughts to his, and eased its hold on his hair, moved down his neck, and into his hakama. While his hands acquainted themselves with the eccentricities of opening the catches on her red blouse, both of hers pulled down his hakama to his waist. Her foot slid up the leg of his hakama, his lips on the hollow of her neck, her hands linked around his neck, pulling him tighter, his breath coming in small gasps, her tongue licking the sweat off the side of his lips--time blurred sense and sound and touch, until...
"NOOOOO!!!!"
Shinpachi's yell from the kitchen, heard by both Otae and Gintoki as they walked back from their respective errands, gave both Okita and Kagura the fright of their lives under the kotatsu. Okita again struck his already tender head on the top of it. Kagura rolled out from under the blanket and stood, in fighting stance, in record time. Kagura half expected Shinpachi to walk out of the kitchen minus a hand, splurting blood everywhere. She didn't want to have to clean it up. Shinpachi instead came running out of the kitchen, holding the Otsu CD.
"IT'S SCRATCHED!!! WHO SCRATCHED IT??!! WHO??!"
Kagura just looked at him blankly. Shinpachi decided she was innocent on account of her unnatural silence, and ran into the other room to see if the scratches matched Sadaharu's claws. Kagura thought he would soon be missing a hand if he tried to pin the deed on Sadaharu. Then she looked down at the clasp open on her blouse, and rational thoughts returned to her. She thought maybe, if she was lucky, hell curry had just been playing a cruel joke on her. So she lifted up the kotatsu blanket, ignoring the yells from Shinpachi in the other room. There he was, as she dreaded he would be, sprawled unconscious, half naked on the tatami. For some reason, Kagura wanted to touch his skin again. She reached out.
The sweet black void of unconsciousness melted in Okita's mind as he landed in the trash bags left in the alley behind the Yorozuya's apartment. His vision was foggy, but he thought he saw a slip of a girl with fiery red hair, and a face to match it, close the window with a bang. He winced as he felt if there were any broken bones, his hand lingering most on his left hip.
"Kondo-san really should deliver his own love letters," he grimaced.
