.*Gone, the Precious Snow*.
Edo 1858
With his slender hand caught in the grasp of a much larger one, Hijikata's panting breaths appeared in visible blotches as he trailed the pace of Kondo's hurried footsteps leading him through steadily falling snow. Their trip home from Hino had started with drab scenery washed over in cool gray to match the ambiance—nature's lifeless colors setting the perfect backdrop to overhead bare branches that painted jagged black lines across an ominous slate sky.
At some point however, these bleak surroundings began a transformation. One wayward snowflake from above turned to several, and those several to many, quickly sweeping ivory blankets over dirt paths that had shoes ill-equipped for such weather crunching and leaving trails soon to disappear. The more the accumulation, the faster their pace became, until it was no longer Hijikata walking at Kondo's side, but barely keeping up behind as he was now.
Why the rush? Hijikata hadn't needed to ask; he'd known all too well Kondo's penchant for putting the comfort of those he harbored affection for above his own—which meant such haste, and the tightness of his grip, were entirely with Hijikata's aversion to cold weather in mind.
Therefore, as everything whited out around them and the entire universe hushed to only the whisper of soft huffs escaping chapped lips, Hijikata found it all too easy for Kondo to once again become the prime focal point of his thoughts and attentions; he was a much fonder fixation than the chill, by all means, and being alone with him like this while traveling was as exciting as it was pleasing.
—even if the air was brisk and needling, uncomfortable and loathsome: all of which it certainly was. But that Kondo was there with Hijikata, that he could feel the clutch of his hand, made everything bearable.
Ever the mother hen Hijikata's sister Nobu was, she'd lectured them both upon arriving to pay their new year visit; her grousing (for better or worse) had been more about their decidedly under-prepared state of dress for a trek home through the impending storm than how long Hijikata had let his hair grow since he'd moved out.
Once Kondo's profuse apologies had fallen over immense eye-rolling at his side, they'd spent the rest of the afternoon and night in enjoyable Sato-Hijikata family company. The departure from Nobu's porch came early this morning with hopes of keeping ahead of the weather to no avail, and despite bundling themselves in ample layers at her insistence, no hats meant locks of hair and broad shoulders were now prime locations for falling snow to find temporary solace on.
…and not to mention fingers, too, which suddenly entwined tighter when Hijikata shifted position of his palm against Kondo's. He gently pulled back while his steps slowed to a halt.
"Ka—Kat-chan, wait." The words were conspicuous—brought to life by riding softly out on the blossoms of exhalations that dissipated just as soon as they'd appeared.
There was no hesitation or protest in Kondo's next movements, as large feet stopped their forward haul and pivoted to show naked concern in his honeyed eyes; they, along with the chill dusting blush about his cheeks, nose, and the tips of his ears inspired a different warmth to proliferate within Hijikata's chest. "You all right?"
Dropping his chin with a solitary nod, Hijikata answered, "Mm." There was a quick pause to catch his breath. "You didn't notice though, did you?" The inward pull of Kondo's brows inspired a twitch at Hijikata's lips and he cocked his head to the right. "You oughta stop worrying about other people and look around every now and then, y'know."
Blinking, Kondo lifted his face to the direction he'd been instructed—just to have both his expression and gaze soften with pleasant surprise. "Oh, the lake!"
Though its water had already long frozen over this winter, the falling snow gave the ice a silver sheen that would undoubtedly sparkle like glitter when the high noon sun could show itself again. For now, however, such glamor was fated to stay concealed, but that hadn't meant there was no beauty to appreciate.
Hijikata assumed point now, taking Kondo (who'd begun to weakly object, as he had made certain promises to Nobu) over to the sharpened edge of a shore ever so soft in the summertime—and in doing so, he led them both back to the beginning of…everything.
Of spoken silly dreams and tender smiles and conversations that could last for hours… Of promises and confessions and nonsense words, of covertly intertwining fingers and drawing closer and the thrill of being so certain but also uncertain yet… Of the subsequent first kiss to end all first kisses and the first chapter of a story that would surely never end.
And here once more they stood on that same cusp, hand-in-hand with nothing in the world audible except for the dull pounding of a metronome in Hijikata's ears: the sound of Kondo's heartbeat.
Or maybe it was his own. Or maybe it didn't even matter because it was the same difference at this point.
They observed the scenery for a short while, until Kondo looked over and his spine went stiff. "Toshi, your hair is all wet!" His fingers slipped away from Hijikata's and he reached for his scarf, making quick work of undoing the knot and pulling it free. "We really should—"
"I wanna see this place at every time of the year with you." The interjection came without Hijikata turning to him; he kept his gaze trained on the ice, feeling his features soften in the slightest and a burn hinting over his cheeks at such a direct statement. "…So I'll never forget it," Hijikata added softly.
At his side he heard Kondo huff. "Hey…" And after a few moments, a gentle push to his upper arm had Hijikata pivoting, still without making eye contact; maybe for the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for winter nipping at his cheeks to disguise the blush he felt. However, when the fabric of the scarf whooshed up and settled over his head, Hijikata's chin quickly raised and his attention shot to the side before snapping back to Kondo, tying it in place.
"Eh?! You'll be cold if—!" It was all Hijikata had managed against an unexpected onslaught of pure affection aimed his way. That gentle gaze was on him with the look Kondo reserved for him, alone—that soft smile, the half-lidded eyes, the hint of a nod to reassure him everything was okay: all the right things to make a man weak in the knees, and oh, did it.
Therefore, when Kondo reached forward, it was simple to justify how easily Hijikata stepped up to accept that embrace…to feel strong arms envelop him and hold him close.
"Toshi." The rich baritone of Kondo's voice rumbled from deep within his chest, despite how quietly his words came forth. "Let's come back here next month, then." He hugged a little tighter. "And the next."
"Aa," Hijikata murmured into a padded shoulder. His own rolled up slightly while nuzzling at Kondo's coat, and he indulged himself in appreciating this closeness for several more moments before finally tilting his head back. Kondo followed suit, withdrawing only far enough so their gazes could meet and when they did, Hijikata's mouth eased into a smile. "Snowing or not, ne."
Kondo exhaled out of his nose and the following grin came with a tiny flash of teeth. "Snowing or not, Toshi-san."
His features slackened with earnest then and Kondo leaned in slowly, until the space between trembling lips became none—while dainty veils of white continued a downward drift and the whole universe went monochrome. But Hijikata was oblivious to that, and anything else for that matter, for the only things of significance now were the taste of Kondo's kiss and his all-encompassing warmth which seemed to say, "I'm here and I'm never leaving."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Kyoto 1866
As the shoji turned an iridescent glow from the late morning sun, a fine brush swept tendrils of ink over parchment. Once it finished flitting to the pattern of his latest work, Hijikata lifted his hand to keep unsightly blotches from ruining the lettering and set the utensil aside.
He crossed his arms and sat back on his feet, a sudden intimation of contentment easing the harsh lines of his face while he reread the haiku beneath his breath.
Gone, the precious snow
No longer to be found in
the yard with the pine
While he admired the words, Hijikata could almost feel phantom arms wrapping around him, could nearly perceive soft breaths feathering along his sensitive skin and asking if he was proud of what he wrote this time.
His lashes fell and he nodded with self-satisfaction. "That was pretty good."
The moment didn't last though, with such thoughts going interrupted by the sound of heavy feet hitting the porch outside; at them, Hijikata quickly shut his poetry book and pivoted on his knees.
"Toshi!" Kondo's voice rang out with excitement, barely muted by the door that revealed his shadow stuttering to a halt. "Toshi, you there?"
"Aa, c'mon in."
Shoji went sailing along the tracks to reveal the beaming face of the one man Hijikata had promised his life to many, many years ago. Kondo grinned so widely that his eyes closed, and he lifted the wrapped package dangling from his right hand.
"Hey, I bought you somethin' nice!"
Hijikata's lips remained pressed together and he stared without answering for a short time, the blank look he wore contrasting how his pulse picked up at the sight of pure sunlight radiating into the room.
Indeed. Snow would melt, and the seasons would shift, and the world would continue to alter and blend its colors forever. Hijikata had been sure to lock the memories of such transient things within the depths of his heart so he would never forget: the days with stolen kisses and the entwining of fingers…the weight of Kondo's hand on that snowy morning and the sensation of having him close and the feeling of realizing this was it.
But some things…
Kondo's eyes opened and he raised the dango a little higher. "Mm?"
…some things would never change at all.
At last, Hijikata allowed a smile to bloom across his face, as he relaxed on his zabuton¹ and nodded Kondo inside. "Shut the door again, would you?"
¹ zabuton: A sitting cushion
Thank you for reading!