Thank you for checking this out! This story came about because a lovely anon sent me a request on tumblr to write a get together story. And here we are.

.*Before the Storm*.
Chapter 1

Ishida Village - 1851

It all began with hearsay and a pair of ridiculously big shoes left in front of the Sato Dojo.

Medicine chest strapped to his back, Hijikata stood before the porch scrutinizing the larger than life footwear with curiosity displayed openly in amethyst eyes just a bit wider than usual. His brother-in-law Hikogoro wore sandals of typical proportion, never particularly larger or smaller than any other's, and yet here they sat dwarfed.

A loud shout of "EEEEEY!" and subsequent sharp clash of shinai echoed from within the dojo, drowning out the melody of mid-summer cicada song—had Hijikata's chin snapping up toward the entrance in desire of catching a glimpse of the action. There was none to be seen from where he stood, however; instead, he listened with heed to the pounding steps taken carefully against the wooden floor, the undoubtable indication of opponents locked in a dance of wits to match their brawn.

Word had it that the new Tennen Rishin Ryu master possessed intelligence to match his fortitude, and came with some kind of interesting past to boot. Intellect was subjective, strength was comparative. Hell, anyone could claim to have a compelling backstory.

But not many in a higher social class would admit to hailing from much humbler roots.

And it went without saying that no one could fake the size of these shoes.

"Oi, Toshizo," Hikogoro had said the previous evening, jabbing his sakazuke cup over the dinner table to catch his attention. Taking the bait, Hijikata's gaze lifted while he made quick work of his remaining rice and stayed attentive while he chewed. "You oughta come by to train tomorrow afternoon. The young master is visiting…you know, the one who just became next heir to Shusuke-sensei's legacy."

"Cht." Hijikata's brow twitched and his bowl hit the table a little harder than he might have intended. He reached for the soup next and before sipping, replied with an irascible, "The hell do I care?"

To the right was his sister, and far be Nobu to ever pass up an opportunity to lovingly scold him for something. "Toshizo, I keep telling you…" When he peered up at her, she pursed her lips and cocked her head, her tone matter-of-fact. "Your face is going to freeze that way if you keep that up."

Hijikata scoffed. "Good." —and proceeded to down the rest of the broth while Nobu's eyes rolled to the ceiling.

"Maa, c'mon!" Hikogoro sang, his voice light and airy. "At least just meet him, even if it's quick! I think you two would have some things to talk about."

Chopsticks were laid across an empty dish. "Yeah, like how he's some bigshot samurai and I'm just a damn medicine-peddling, textile-sewing farmer." Bringing a handkerchief up to dab at his mouth, Hijikata's expression darkened into an unamused scowl. "Thanks, but no thanks."

A dramatic sigh left Nobu's lips. "You know, Toshizo, it's no wonder you're drawn to writing. You certainly enjoy words—and not to mention putting them in other people's mouths."

Long black lashes fell in a prolonged blink and Hijikata slowly turned his face to her before reopening them. They fluttered as he half-glared, expecting a continuation of her criticisms. Nobu had a point, as she often did…not that he would ever admit to it, but that was a different thing entirely.

"Just come by. Ne?" Hikogoro prodded again.

Folding the small cloth twice over, Hijikata tucked it back into the sleeve of his hakamashita and brushed himself off. "I'll think about it if it'll make you happy." At that, he expressed gratitude for dinner and promptly stood to take his leave, with no certain intent to waste a single further moment on the invitation.

However, just as he approached the open doorway, Hikogoro spoke up again. "The young master may be a samurai now but he was born into the farming class."

Hijikata's hand fell on the wooden frame and though he hadn't looked back, he did pause.

"…Doesn't that interest you? Even a little?"

His fingertips barely flexed. All he offered as acknowledgement was a slight turn of the head before he stepped out onto the porch and vanished into the night.

The hours separating that mealtime exchange from the present had been rife with a heavy dose of scrutiny and flip-flopping. Much to Hijikata's irritation, he had to admit that a farmer-turned-samurai was intriguing and it had seemed likely he could get on well with such a person. Maybe. Still, he'd risen and left the house before anyone else in the family awoke to try their hand at influence once more.

As it turned out, no further convincing was needed, for there he stood per Hikogoro's original request—before the threshold of the dojo while the afternoon sun burned bright and had beads of moisture lining his brow.

One look. One look was all Hijikata would give this guy, because he was damn convinced that was all it would take to drown the intrusive questions which refused to stop needling him. Shusuke-sensei was an old man with a taste for strange company, after all. Surely, he'd adopted some middle-aged misfit who was now walking around with two swords at his hip and acting like he was some kind of eminent individual by birthright. That kind of person might be even worse than so-called real samurai who lazed about and drank their fill of sake and milked the privileges of their status.

"Tch."

Hijikata slipped the medicine chest off his back and placed it on the porch. The strap clasps fell undone under his chin and the hat followed, pulled free from his person and set atop his wares. He about-faced to kick his sandals off, refusing to even compare his own with the size of their visitor's, and then vaulted up toward the entrance just in time to see…

"EEEEEY! HA!"

Hikogoro faced the door decked out in training gear, his shinai locked and quivering against the young master's—whom, Hijikata could only see from the back at this vantage point. Upon his sudden appearance, Hikogoro let up with an excited, "Ah!" He backed away several steps. "So you came after all! Katsuta-san, I want you to meet my brother."

"Oh, the one you mentioned!"

Hijikata crossed his arms and leaned against the frame, one hip jutting out as he watched both men quickly freeing themselves from their chest guards and facemasks. Leave it to niisan to run his mouth, when it wasn't even officially decided that he'd show up today or not. He respected the hell out of Hikogoro, but sometimes he could really be—

With his facemask pulled free, the young master turned.

…Gold. Golden. Like sunlight.

Hijikata's chest stilled. His lashes parted a little wider, his mouth went dry.

Young. So much younger than expected. Handsome. Ridiculously handsome. …Approaching. Oh, he was approaching. Hijikata blinked and slowly, almost clumsily, righted himself.

"Shimazaki Katsuta," the young master said in introduction and quickly wiped at his face with his hakamashita. Was that blush staining across his cheeks, or just a consequence of the heat? "Ah, I'm sorry to meet you when I'm all disheveled and sweaty, but…" He bowed, those adjectives not lost on Hijikata for a second. "It's a pleasure."

A large grin pulled out into Hikogoro's cheeks as he clapped his friend hard on the shoulder. "This is our future Kondo-sensei."

The young master huffed beneath his breath in amusement, his features managing to somehow soften even further as he rubbed at where he'd been playfully assaulted. "Hey now, I'm flattered but I don't share my father's last name yet."

Hikogoro's laugh resounded in the space and he jabbed an arm next, to which Kondo raised his shoulders. "Soon enough, Katsuta-san! Soon enough." His attention returned to Hijikata while tilting his head and beginning to blot a line from temple to chin with a cloth. "Well? Toshizo? What do you think?"

…What did he think? What the hell more was there to think other than things he couldn't say?! He was gorgeous, plain and simple, and a shinai looked too damn good in his strong hand.

Kondo's whiskey eyes were back on Hijikata, his gaze filled with curiosity and perhaps a touch of embarrassment at Hikogoro's flattery as he awaited his assessment. And when Hijikata suddenly realized that Kondo was, indeed, waiting for an opinion, he glanced quickly to his brother-in-law and unfolded his arms. Hikogoro lifted his brows with a nod, urging him on.

Say something, say something. Say anything.

"You have some big ass feet."

…Shit. Why did he say that?!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You have some big ass feet."

There weren't many times in his life when Hijikata experienced the desire to fade right out of existence, but now...now was good a time as ever.

A sudden forced cough exploded from Hikogoro's mouth while he pounded his chest and Kondo…he simply blinked. His head barely cocked, as though he were processing what had been carelessly blurted out—as if he were wondering if he'd heard correctly.

It was unfortunate that he had.

The prevailing silence was deafening, horrifying. Someone present needed to attempt damage control and though he had no concrete plan for mending the presumed hurt feelings of an important fixture in Hikogoro's life, Hijikata's lips parted to speak. Apparently, he'd still not learned the lesson that saying nothing at all was often better than speaking for the sake of it. Fate was on his side, however; just as he was about to come out with some stream of nonsense rambling, Kondo's shoulders shook once with a huff. And then again. And before long, he closed his eyes and barked a laugh.

After fingers idly brushed through his hair, Hijikata flipped his ponytail and winced, trying again. "Look, uh. I didn't mean—"

Kondo held a hand up to stop Hijikata in his tracks and waved it, chuckling more and then bringing it back to rub at the tip of his nose. "It's fine. You're right. I'm sorry for laughing, it's—"

Hijikata snorted. "Don't apologize. I'm the one apparently being offensive."

Shaking his head, Kondo closed his eyes for a beat. "No, no, not at all. I'm laughing because…okay. I have this friend I visit back home, yeah? And one time he hired a new maid who I hadn't met before. So, we're sitting there drinking together and suddenly this blood-curdling scream rings out. Turns out it was her when she saw the size of my shoes in the entryway."

"What?! All right, look!" Feeling more at peace with the situation, Hijikata's posture eased and he shrugged at Hikogoro. "It's not just me. But I didn't scream. Remember that." A huff. "You gotta admit that they do kinda stick out, though, your shoes…"

"Oh, I know it!" Kondo laughed. "But for what it's worth, I ended up becoming friends with that lady so maybe this is a good sign?"

"Heh…" A smirk pulled at Hijikata's lips. "Here's hoping. Name's Hijikata Toshizo."

Kondo's chin fell in a nod. "Again, it's a pleasure." He grabbed Hikogoro by the shoulders—who had gone from looking beyond mortified to rather impressed over the span of the conversation. "Hikogoro-san always has great things to say about you."

"Psht. Don't believe a word this guy says."

"Oi, Toshizo!" Hikogoro's back straightened and he stood tall. "Katsuta-san might accept your disrespect but I sure as hell won't!" The facade crumbled as soon as he'd spoken and his spine relaxed. "Eh, who am I kidding?"

"No one, Sir," Kondo offered with a grin. "But maybe if you were up against some thieves instead…"

"Well, we can't win 'em all, can we?" Hikogoro hummed and then switched direction. "Katsuta-san, you must be starving. I'll go grab some lunch for you."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you or your wife, Hikogo—" And as if his stomach had intended from the start to rebel against such a predictably humble reply, it growled loudly at that very moment. Kondo's cheeks flushed.

Hikogoro smiled. "You're no trouble at all. Hang out here for a bit, yeah?" His expression went a touch serious. "You too, Toshizo. Keep the young master company. Try not to offend him."

Hijikata sucked his teeth and tossed his face to the side.

Looking between both, Kondo interjected, "Actually, I'll take a minute or two and show myself to the well if you don't mind. I should really wash up."

"Sure thing. Toshizo, why don't you walk him out back?"

The protest came immediately. "Oh, it's all right, really. Today's super hot." Kondo chin fell once. "Hijikata-san, why not stay on the porch until I come back? The shade is better than cooking in the sun."

"I really wouldn't mind," Hijikata offered with a shrug. Indeed, he absolutely would not mind seeing Kondo's hakamashita falling off his shoulders and getting a quality glimpse of the obvious muscular form his attire was hiding. Alas… "But it's up to you."

After another nod to solidify the plan, Kondo and Hikogoro took their leave, each heading in his designated separate direction. The glass porch chime jingled with the passing of a light breeze and Hijikata drifted out of the dojo, taking in the sight of a nearby tree with its swaying leaves before flopping down next to his medicine chest. He stared at the dark planks comprising the ceiling, allowed his legs to kick and swing off the edge of the floorboards. From there, his mind began to wander.

The universe worked in surprising ways. Never in a million years had Hijikata expected to not only like what he saw, but…actually really, really like it. Experience from peddling and apprenticeship had honed his skills when it came to dealing with people; he'd been told countless times how effortlessly he cavorted about others, how easy he made communication look. Some old man with a crooked spine once shook a cane at him and said he could probably sell salt to the sea if he tried.

As reality would have it, though, work was nothing more than a performance. It was Hijikata simply doing what he needed to do to survive and get by. If he wasn't personable or convincing, he'd never sell anything at all. And if he wasn't selling anything, he wasn't earning income. And if he wasn't earning income…

He licked his lips and folded his hands over his abdomen, stopping his thoughts from the derailment they often suffered from. The fact of the matter was that talking with Kondo required no great effort on his part. The conversation had flowed so easily that anyone looking at them from the outside would assume they'd been friends since childhood…which was bizarre, since they'd only just met.

Hijikata drummed on the knuckles of his lower hand. So, Hikogoro had been right. He hated to admit it, especially when he'd been so obstinate about meeting the young master in the first place. But really, all he had was a first impression. Whether Kondo was truly someone who Hijikata could mesh well with or not in the long run would be up for debate for some time.

Well…

His fingers stopped their movement.

There was one simple way to find out whether it was even worth the effort. He could simply confess about his desire to become a samurai, and gauge from the response. But then again…Hijikata hadn't felt much like being mocked for the millionth time in his life. And if he were very honest, he was afraid that this handsome guy who seemed to have it all together would end up only letting him down.

"…Tch."

He closed his eyes, laced his digits, and let the breeze ruffle through his bangs.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

There were good samurai and bad samurai in the world.

The first time Hijikata learned this fact coincided with the first time he ever picked a fight. It was the summer after he'd turned eight years old, when he and a couple of boys who lived down the street converged to kick a ball about and then jump in the lake when it got too hot in the sun. Naturally, kids were kids and ever too content to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Though, upon Hijikata's crash-landing into adulthood, he quickly realized that being too honest wasn't merely a product of juvenility, but apparently just an irritating fact of human nature.

On that particular sweltering day in his youth, he'd found two perfectly sized sticks beneath the canopy of an old oak tree and promptly worked them through the side of his hakama—his very own makeshift blades.

That's when the heckling began again.

"You ain't no samurai! Stop acting like it!"

"Even if you wore swords and armor, you'd still look like a girl, To-chan."

"Weren't you born in some kind of barn? You don't even have a mom. Or a dad. Idiot."

Suffice to say, sticks were in no way as effective as swords. Though, they apparently did hurt enough if someone got smashed over the head with one…enough even to make him cry and run away.

And that was what brought Kano-san from six houses over to Nobu's porch that evening. Hijikata stood at his sister's side, unaffected by the angry father who came to exact vengeance for his scorned son. His hair was worn in chonmage style with scraggly and unkempt pieces falling loose about his bulldog face, his cheeks and chin stubbly from lack of attention. Hijikata doubted he even bathed.

"Control your brat." Kano spat when he talked and his cheeks jiggled. It was unsightly.

"My understanding is that my brother was acting in self-defense," Nobu replied coolly, and making no move to descend the stairs to speak face-to-face with him. "…Samurai-san."

"He hit Hiromasa over the head with a stick, this fucking baragaki¹." An accusatory finger was jabbed in Hijikata's direction. "My kid did nothing to deserve that."

"Would you like an apology?" Nobu's inquiry was calm. "I apologize." She placed her palm on the back of Hijikata's head and gently tilted it forward. "As you can see, Toshizo does as well."

Hijikata scoffed and shook her hand free.

"You better watch your step, bitch, and control your animal." Kano looked down to Hijikata. "And you, you little fuck. I want you to take a good look at this." Fat fingers stroked the handles of the swords at his hip. "This is what a real samurai looks like, something you'll never be. Know your place."

Nobu's hand pressed hard upon one of Hijikata's rapidly rising and falling shoulders, both a warning and command to keep his silence.

"You're a farmer, you understand? You were born in the dirt. You're gonna die in the dirt. Know your fucking place. You hear me?!" Kano snapped his eyes back to Nobu. "And you better know yours too."

Nobu simply nodded once. "Toshizo is not allowed to play with Hiromasa-san any longer. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't." Kano's hip swung out as he shifted his stance. "You see, I could call in my boys. We could skewer you alive for retribution while you sleep. But I'm a man of honor, get it? I'm a man who knows my place in the world."

"Indeed, Samurai-san. Well, speaking of places we belong in, I'll need to return back to my kitchen. I'm making dinner for my family." Nobu paused. "Unless you intend to stay to eat? I can set a tray out for you. Or two." When Kano's eyes narrowed, she immediately said, "For your wife, I mean."

"I wouldn't be caught dead sharing a meal with trash like you." And on that, he turned on his heels and made for the main gate.

The tears stinging Hijikata's eyes burned, but he refused to let them to fall. His teeth gritted, his tiny body trembled. His hands balled into such tight fists that color drained from his knuckles. That's when it'd all been too much. This horrible person, this mean and entitled man who didn't deserve to be a samurai at all, would get away with how he spoke to his sister. He had to do something. So he drew a deep breath with every intention to shout at him in his wake.

But that was when Nobu's hand pressed to Hijikata's mouth. She sunk to her knees beside him and when he looked at her, she quietly shook her head.

"Toshi, let it go."

"I can't." His voice cracked and the tears in his eyes involuntarily spilled over. Still, he fought to stop them.

Nobu brushed at his cheeks and placed one hand against his stomach. "Hey, let me tell you something important." Her lips pulled into a smile. "A true samurai knows when to fight and when not to. A real, honest-to-goodness samurai never throws his status around for convenience…especially when he can't use a sword."

"Are you saying Kano-san isn't a real samurai?"

A boing and a slap from beyond the front garden gate suddenly rang out, followed by an enraged scream. "Who the fuck left a rake here?!"

"Oh…" Nobu trailed off innocently. "Oh, did Kano-san step on the rake? It seems to have hit him in the face. What a shame…"

"Neechan, did you…did you put it there?"

"Hm…" She drummed her fingers against Hijikata's yukata. "I couldn't say…" Nobu stood and gave a pat to the top of his head. "In any case, let's go finish making dinner. I could use a guy like you to chop up some daikon."

When Hijikata's eyes fell half-lidded and unimpressed, she chortled. "What? It doesn't count as fencing practice?!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

There were good samurai and bad samurai in the world.

Real ones and fake ones.

The persistent, the lazy. The diligent, the entitled. Those who served and those who expected to be served. There were ones who earned the privilege of such a title and ones who were just born with it.

Just what kind of samurai was Shimazaki Katsuta? And would he go on to actually take over the Tennen Rishin Ryu…would he actually assume his adoptive father's family name?

"Yaaa, sorry to keep to you waiting!"

Hijikata sat back up when he heard Kondo's voice, and watched while he neared with two wet rags. One he had pressed to the back of his neck and the other, he extended out with a grin.

"Here. I think it's possible to sweat even just from laying around on a day like today…" Kondo's eyes widened and he made a sudden strangled noise. "Not that…I think you're just laying around. Sorry."

Hijikata huffed and accepted the offering with a cryptic reply. "Thanks."

Kondo sat beside him with a groan and peered up toward the sky before letting his attention fall to the chest. "So, you peddle medicine, huh…"

Heh…here it comes…

"Aa," Hijikata replied. "On the days I'm not working my textile apprenticeship." The ridicule would be disappointing, but not surprising. He couldn't even say it would sting his pride.

"That's neat."

Blink. Blink, blink. Hijikata's brow creased and his lower eyelids raised as he slowly turned his face to Kondo.

"You got something that'll treat bruises?" Clearly unaware of being under such intense scrutiny, Kondo rotated his arm and massaged the adjoining shoulder. "Kenjutsu hurts." He laughed. "In the best way, though!"

"Um…yeah. I mean…" Hijikata reached for the box. "Yeah, I definitely have something for that." He stood and rifled through his merchandise, licked his lips and shook his head.

Just what kind of samurai was Shimazaki Katsuta?

Hijikata's eyes slid to the side. …He would be damn sure to find out.

Many thanks for reading!

This story is a prequel to my other work, After the Rain. Like After the Rain, this fic is set in the Hakuouki universe, but so much of it was inspired from the Shinsengumi! Taiga Drama. You don't need to have seen the drama to read, but if you have watched it, you might pick up on familiar little things here and there.

¹ baragaki - Literally "thorny brat" and Hijikata's alleged childhood nickname.