Down The Train Track
"Are you sure you've got everything you need?"
"Yup," replied Kagura. Her left hand that was deep into the bag was pulled out along with a handful of Sukonbu in its grip. "Everything I need is right here."
"Come on now, China. You can't just bring along Sukonbu. What the hell happened to the collar I gave you on our third anniversary?" Okita asked. Kagura gave him the annoyed look while dropping those fabulous pickled seaweed back into her bag. Actually, it wasn't exactly a bag. It was one of those moss green piece of cloth with ugly white dotted design, folded up into a round shape to use as some sort of a luggage carrier.
Kagura hated it. That fuckly moss green pissed her off for various reasons. Firstly, because it belonged to Okita Sougo, her husband/ her enemy/ Sadist/ her eternal rival. And secondly, just because it is so ugly.
"Don't you remember? I broke it when I tried to strangle your neck during one of our kinky play."
"And what did you do to it after that?"
"… Flushed it down the toilet?"
"Was that the reason why our toilet was clogged for the next following week?"
"No," she said, tying up the bag, "the toilet clogged because the Gorilla came over to use our toilet at four in the morning during one of his diarrhea episodes… and because you let him used it. I was against that all the way. Besides, that collar was ugly and it tore too easily. I didn't even get to use it to *** you yet."
Okita signed. "Still, you didn't have to throw it away. You should've kept it like any wife in the TV drama would. Because, no matter what I gave you, you should've loved it and be happy."
This caused Kagura to scoff. "Yeah? Well what about the turtle neck T-shirt I gave you? Why did you burn that?"
"Because the Shogun had worn it when he was stark naked in that hut during the snow storm? Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice that kind of stuff? I made a fabulous joke about it."
"That was a gift! A gift from Soyo-chan as a souvenir!"
"So in the end, it didn't even actually came from you?!"
"WELL YOU DIDN'T EXACTLY HAND-MADE THAT COLLAR YOURSELF, NOW DID YOU?!"
Okita got up and drew his sword.
"Stand up right now, Miss Piggy. We're going to have a match. You wanna go or what? Because I'm sure that I can beat you before you'll even have a chance to beg for mercy."
Kagura scowled. Her blood was rushing and she felt the same old excitement from the times whenever they had a fight. But those feelings died down as quickly as when it was born.
"What a bastard. I would get up and whip you in the ass a few more times, but I'm afraid that I might make you turn into an M."
"When had that ever scared you?"
"…You know I can't fight you anymore."
Okita paused. For a moment, only silence remained as a thread between them.
Then he squatted down, once again running his hands through her 'bag' to make sure that she had something else other than Sukonbu to keep her accompany on the way.
"Hey, what's this?" he asked, referring to a square piece of wood that he fished out. The carving of Yorozuya was clearly visible.
Kagura smirked a little. "That was from Shinpachi. You should've seen his face when he gave it to me; tears and drools everywhere. It was awesome."
"He has always been an emotional one, compared to the two heartless people like you and Danna," Okita said, nodding to himself and smiling sadistically when he thought of someone's crying face. He dropped the object back into the pack and grabbed another item.
"And this?" he asked.
"Oh," Kagura grimaced at a beautifully crafted lunch box, "don't' open that. It was from Anego, but I already have an idea of what's inside. You can take a bite of the dark matter… if you dare."
"No thanks. I still want my memories intact," he said, dropping the box back. He'd then find another item that was lying down there.
"This?"
Half drunken bottle of sake, expired tuna can, and oily sushi.
"From the old hag, unibrow Catherine, and Tama. I can see they put a lot of thought into that. Can't you just feel the love radiating from that expired can of tuna?"
"I think that's just a smell of tuna rotting."
"So do I. But isn't that what love is like? It is a bit fishy, selfish, and rotten in its own way."
"Your definition of love is scaring me," he said. His eyes skimmed through her bag, full of many other objects, clustered around in the red pool of Sukonbu boxes. Some of them were really nice gifts, like the hair ornament (made in Yoshiwara) or a pair of red boxing gloves (from a man Kagura claimed to have met when she was trying to introduce him to a job in the terrorists' hideout. Oh wait, he remembered. It was the guy he ripped off). But some of them were also hideous. For an instant, a bottle of mayonnaise, corn flavored food stick, and some stupid porn magazines with sunglasses clipped on an extremely exposing page.
"MADAO accidentally dropped these. He was supposed to only give me a letter he hid in that porn mag, but it somehow slipped and the whole thing just fell right in."
"Lovely," shortly replied Okita while flipping through the pages.
"And this here," Kagura said, holding up an empty carton of strawberry milk, "was from Gin-chan. So stupid, isn't he? He just basically dumped it down on me. That guy needs someone to kick him in the ass."
"Can't blame him. Danna isn't quite the same when he knew that you were leaving. I mean, he has always been a weird, but this time around, he is in quite a bad shape. Hijikata-san complained about pulling him out of the vending machine for the fourth time this week now. Apparently, Danna was drunk and also shouting something about trying to get into a time machine."
"Stupid Gin-chan. He was always so caught up in this whole affair of time machine. It is exactly the same from when I first met him," Kagura grinned. Before long, she glanced up again. "Look after him for me? Just make sure his perm doesn't get tangled inside the vending machine is good enough. Not many audiences knew, but we actually had a hard time pulling his head out of the vending machines he'd stuck his head into."
"You tell me to look after him," Okita grimaced, "but who'll look after me?"
"You're a grown up," Kagura said as she tied the last knot on her bag and slung it over her shoulder, "you know what to do when I'm not around."
The moment she stood up, the cling-clang sound could be heard from her feet on the metal rod of the train track. Gray pebbles from beneath their feet crunched under their weight as Okita stood up as well.
He looked around them.
Pale blue sky. Warm yellow light. Smoky white clouds. Tall, faded green grass along the side. Chilly winds. Empty scenery, with not a hint of where the train station could be...
And a long train track heading off far beyond the horizon.
Okita hated everything about this.
Kagura smiled and stretched lazily.
He handed her a purple parasol. "Just in case you need it. Are you sure you've got everything you need?"
"Yup," she answered confidently. Okita frowned and shook his head.
"You forgot this, stupid China."
He leaned in and kissed her lightly and the forehead. It was a quick peck that only lasted for five seconds, not like a deep romantic smooch you'd see in a drama, but that much was already very sweet for them. Once he took a small step back, a red eye mask was dangling from around her neck.
Okita smiled, satisfied. Kagura snapped the rubber around her neck a few times to hide her blushing face.
"Lousy bastard," she mumbled with her face down. Then she looked off into the endless horizon emptily.
"Well," he said.
"Well," she said, "I'm leaving."
"Have a good trip," Okita said, almost robotically. He wouldn't look at her in the eyes.
Suddenly, she reached up and cupped his face down to her level. For a long moment, they stared in silent, searching for something; anything.
Then she smiled that devious smile of hers. The one that melted away his whole world.
"Be happy."
Instantly, he said, "I can't."
Kagura laughed as she let go of his face, her hand dropped slightly to hang by her side for a moment. She'd then open up her parasol; and with that ugly moss green bag hung over her shoulder, she walked down the train track with no destination.
He watched as she walked. His eyes never leaving her slightly bouncing orange head, and he heard her hummed a song she loved to sing on a rainy day.
"But it is sunny today, China," he called, stuck at where he was.
She didn't turn around.
Then he began to notice red little boxes tumbling down from her bag, which wasn't closed tightly enough.
He shouted, "China, your beloved Sukonbu boxes are falling! Aren't you going to pick them up?"
She kept on walking and humming, oblivious to anything he said.
Those red boxes started to form a long trail; as though she was leaving her bread crumbs behind so that she could find her way back to where he was.
But of course he knew better than that. She wouldn't come back. Those red boxes are her memories, her presence, and her proof of existence. They are his memories of her.
"China, you're dropping your shit all over the place! This creates pollution! I will have to arrest you!" He called again.
Kagura didn't answer.
Tururururu Tururururu tururu, she hummed, head bobbing from side to side as her figure became smaller and smaller.
What a creepy song.
Then Okita caught the sight of the strawberry milk carton sticking out from the top of the bag, and he noticed a dark ink carved in to a messy, small, tightly lined handwriting.
The carton is all you get for dying before me, brat, it read, you'll get your drink of this awesome strawberry milk once I come over to see you, soon. Though I can't guarantee that I won't finish your share by then. But life is made up of broken promises, and that is how you become an adult. You became one hell of a fine adult for breaking your promise not to die before me, so this is all you're getting. Just you wait for me, stupid brat.
"He must've been drunk writing this," Okita commented to himself, and then to Kagura, "Oi, stupid China! Are you listening to me?!"
Kagura's humming faded away, along with her figure in a red dress, her stupidly leaking green bag, and her purple parasol. The only thing remained was the trail of little red boxes.
She never looked back.
Okita stood where he was, unable to budge beyond the line of the one who has to continue living and the one who can leave. He wanted to yell after her, but he hesitated. He couldn't cross the line. Not yet.
The wind was blowing from behind.
Finally, he smiled.
His mouth opened into a whisper. A low, quiet whisper that no one could hear. He was sure of that, because he couldn't even hear it himself.
Those words were for her and her only. And when they meet again at the end of this endless train track, he'd be sure to tell it to her, loud and clear.
Long time no see! Another attempt at tragedy fanfic for me.
Just to be clear, the things Kagura's got in her bag are supposed to be all the things people left for her at her funeral. And DAMN I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THE MARKETTING PROJECT, NOT COMPOSING FANFICTIONS. But as I always tell myself, don't let school get in the way of your dream. So here I am, writing this fanfic.
Love y'all, thank you for readding, hoped you enjoy.
PLEASE REVIEW! :D