.*Prologue*.

Ishida Village, Sato Dojo - 1852

Kondo's gaze pierced a mishmash of farmers from the head of the training hall, the sea of drab attire they comprised appearing almost refined when compared to their abysmal posture and form.

"What are you here for?!" Kondo rocked forward and heaved his shinai with powerful skill, his words echoing off dark cedar walls and rafters.

A chorus of voices filled the air, ranging from the charismatic, "Becoming strong!" to the whiny, "Aghhh, I don't even know…"

"This is our territory!" Up front, the shinai sliced the thickness of summer heat over and over. "It's on us to look after our families, our land." Swoosh! "The Tennen Rishin Ryu will help you do just that."

"Yes!" yelled a young man with fire in his eyes, "Young Master!"

"Put your backs into it! Check that grip!"

Again, the replies came with an equal balance of determination and complaint—and that's when Kondo's lips twitched in satisfaction and he looked off to the side. Meeting his gaze, Sato Hikogoro's chin fell with a strong nod.

"Keep at it," Kondo commanded and then strode off to join his friend, raising an arm on the way to dab the sweat from his forehead. Upon his arrival, he cast another glance to the new recruits and then returned his attention. "Quite an animated lot you've attracted, Hiko-san."

"Reckon they'll be in good form shortly if they regularly attend practice…and I'm sure they will." Sato shrugged with a fond huff. "I know a thing or two about farmers, after all."

"And these are Ishida Village farmers we're talking about. Now that's really something." Kondo gave a jovial slap to Sato's shoulder. "Really though, great stock. These guys will do well. I have faith in that."

A smirk graced Sato's face while he nodded once more. And just as his lips parted to speak further, his chance was stolen by the crashing of a wooden sword against the floor.

"My arms!" A middle-aged man had dropped to his knees by this point, while his shinai rolled off and his expression twisted in agony. "I can't anymore!"

"Hey!" Sato's shout thundered over the background noise of collective exertion. Grabbing the shinai from Kondo, he stamped to his rightful place at front and center to lead. "The Young Master is here to visit our dojo! Stand tall and show him what you're made of, come on!" With perfect form, he took up the repetitions. "Prove to him that you're worthy of learning his fighting style. For Tama!"

"For Tama!" came the crowd's bellowing response.

The man who'd fallen groaned loudly, his shoulders and head drooping before collecting himself. Rising back to stand, he adjusted the sword in his grasp, repositioned his feet, and with a deep cry, rejoined the flock. "For Tama!"

Pride blossomed within Kondo's chest. Sato had been a friend for years at this point and his dedication to this so-called farmer's swordplay earned him the privilege of opening and instructing at his own training hall. His success story was bred of dedication and an obsessive nature of never quitting.

While he continued to observe in satisfaction, Kondo's thoughts took him on a quick trip through the memories of his own tale…how he'd come to be adopted into this life of leadership and training by Kondo Shusuke, and the key individuals, like Sato, whom he'd met from such fortune. That list of auspicious encounters certainly wasn't exhaustive, and as if fate were at work yet again, he felt the prodding of intuition: a sensation of eyes on him.

Kondo looked toward the doorway and as suspected, found himself being watched with enamored curiosity—but the moment their gazes met was the same that Hijikata averted his own. He pivoted on feet light as air and vanished from the entrance. An affectionate smile pulled outward to Kondo's cheeks and after glancing over everyone hard at work once more, he strolled out to the porch.

August hung stale and heavy, but unlike the dojo, the outside world had the luxury of a light breeze…among other pleasant things.

Hijikata sat with his legs draped over the edge, and he peered over his shoulder when Kondo's bare feet pounded heavy steps across the wooden floorboards. Dropping to sit as well, Kondo reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair behind Hijikata's ear before his palm met the porch.

They remained in pleasant silence for several moments with elbows grazing one another, until Kondo's hand inched its way toward Hijikata's and their pinkies touched. "Big thoughts today, Toshi?"

"Heh. Maybe."

"Maybe…" Kondo echoed and lifted his chin to take in an azure sky just beyond the overhanging roof. "Is that…maybe considering training at your brother-in-law's fancy new dojo? Since it's literally just outside your own room?"

Hijikata's lashes fell and he shook his head. "Nope."

Of course, that was the answer Kondo expected. He swayed to the side and played along, however. "Mm, why?"

With his shoulders lifting, Hijikata's face fell to the side and over an exhale, he supplied, "Blame yourself for that one."

Kondo's attention instantly snapped back to him, caught off guard by a potential jab of serious criticism. "Me?" A slow blink. "Why?"

"Kondo-sensei, Kondo-sensei. That's all I ever hear anyone calling you." A soft huff rolled off Hijikata's tongue. "If I make that kind of commitment, I'll have to call you that too."

Closing his eyes, Kondo relaxed and his laugh resounded through the garden. "What's this strange conversation?!"

Hijikata's pinky rose then and settled back over the one next to it. "I prefer calling you Kat-chan, Kat-chan."

With a chuckle, Kondo looked down to their entwined digits and then found Hijikata's eyes again. "If that's all that's stopping you, Toshi-san, I'm pretty sure an exception can be made…"

Naturally, there was more to the story. Self-doubt and a little healthy competition…the necessity of feeling and being necessary in one's own way. It wasn't all so simple, and Kondo knew that fact as well as he knew the young man at his side. They were both eighteen years of age and had been close for some time now, despite walking paths that were similar yet also different. At the surface, a dojo heir and textile shop apprentice seemed to not share much in common, but a mutual goal was indeed there: it was the desire for each to make something of himself, and leave his mark on local lore to never be forgotten.

In any case, Hijikata grinned in kind and peered out across the colorful arrangement of flowers that his sister had planted before the dojo's grand opening. "I'll consider it." A beat. "You know, between sewing up fabrics and selling fine haori."

Kondo's hand fully covered his then. "Good enough for me."

It wasn't the first time that this conversation rose from the ashes. Nor would it be the last.

Many thanks for reading!

This story 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.