The pain is terrible.
My eyes are leaking water, I feel it wet on my skin. The shame of my weakness hurts, deep in my silent heart, but the pain is worse.
The pain is terrible.
I know I howl sometimes, I hear it as if from far away, echoing in my own ears and muffled. I never dreamt of such pain.
How they must have suffered, the hundreds of men I killed and thought nothing of, as I, master of Iai, flicked my katana clean and walked away. What small injuries I took healed fast, for I never lost a battle in earnest. I am a killer, cutting down less skilful opponents on the streets of Kyoto.
I am not a soldier.
Kondou san, I am not a soldier.
Hijikata san. You know what we are.
Come back for me.
Light brushed Saito Hajime's eyelids, veiled by a curtain, and they flickered. He didn't open them. He wasn't sure he believed in light any more. Or in life.
"If you please."
He flinched. The voice was soft, female. Chizuru?
An arm slipped under and behind him, pain rewoke and seared through his body; Saito groaned thinly. He felt the shameful tears spill again and squeezed his eyes further closed.
"Please, do not worry." He was eased into a more upright position, the pain settled into slow waves. Saito breathed raggedly, seeking the control he had always prized. Somewhere...
"You must eat."
His eyes flicked open and he saw...a girl. He stared, taking her in, dark hair up and neatly away from her face, a girl's style, eyes downcast, demeanour, demure. Not Chizuru. Not like Chizuru.
Though in her patient and quiet presence, he sensed a determination that reminded him of her. He stared hard, eyes wet and raw with pain; when she noticed she immediately bowed her forehead to the floor.
"My apologies."She paused for a long time as if she had no idea how to deal with a conscious patient. Saito waited, eyes fixed on her the darkness of her hair, still fighting the pain and unable to stop the tears.
She was apparently waiting for him to speak.
Somewhere, he had a voice. Saito searched, clearing a throat that felt full of dust and ruin with a rough sound that reminded him of Souji in his sickness.
More pain. Briefly, he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again she was up and gazing anxiously into his face, a cloth pressed to his forehead, probably gently, though it felt like a weapon crushing his brow. Maybe he had closed his eyes longer than intended. Saito cleared his throat again, carefully, blocking out thoughts. They would not help him now.
"Please." His voice sounded hoarse, ugly. For some reason he felt embarrassed by the sound, it did not sound like him.
Am I still him?
Saito crushed the welling shame, pain and grief down and attempted to marshal his voice. "Please," Shaky this time, like an old man. He winced. "Please, do not..." He stared at her, lost.
She bowed briefly, releasing the painful cloth, and Saito relaxed a little in relief. Moving neatly, tiny, efficient movements that reminded him of Chizuru, she brought forward a bowl of soup and a spoon. Saito realised she meant to feed him.
Like a child.
Mortification. Saito summoned his strength and lifted his left hand to take the spoon firmly, assure her he was capable of feeding himself, that he was no infant requiring her care.
Feebly, his arm lifted, then fell back at his side. Useless as Sannan san's before the Water of Life. Weak as...tears rose again, and he could not stop their silent course down his face.
The girl looked up, noticed his shame. Saito closed his eyes as she silently mopped away his tears, cooperated while she fed him soup, which he found his body craved. He let her tend him. In his mind, he could hear Yamazaki chiding the sick, Dr Matsumoto telling Souji to be patient and let himself heal. Wait. Your pride will destroy you.
I am not Saito Hajime.
I am not a Captain of the Shinsengumi.
I am not the feared and respected man who faced pain and death without fear.
This man.
That I am.
Will not move, because the pain.
The pain is terrible.
I used to imagine seppuku was a glory. I would dream of enduring the pain, of declaring my innocence before the gods and opening my gut with my own honed blade, of watching the heavens open as I celebrated with my friends.
There is no glory in pain. My gut was opened by an enemy, not by myself, and the pain...
The pain is terrible.
Harada Sanosuke, you were a stronger man than I. I thought I did not fear pain or death, but I do.
Whoever I am now.
I want to live.
I want the pain to stop.