Notes_I have returned with vengeance!


Folks Who Have No Vices Have Very Few Virtues

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After finishing his patrol, Hijikata exited the Shinsengumi compound. The sun was setting behind him, and the velvet sky directly overhead was already spangled with stars. It was late in August, and the air was growing cooler with every passing day; he could sense autumn rising in the distance like an incoming swell. Hunching his shoulders against the slight chill, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked, taking a random turn here, another there as his legs carried him aimlessly through the neighborhood. After a while, he found himself on an unfamiliar street empty of people. A convenience store sat on the corner, lit up brilliantly against the falling gloom. He walked towards it and pushed through the glass doors, the bells jingling with his entrance.

"Welcome," a young man greeted from behind the counter.

Hijikata cut past the rows of potato chips and magazine stacks, making his way to the cashier. He didn't really know what he was doing. He didn't really want to think about it.

"Can I help you?" The young man behind the counter asked.

"Cigarettes," Hijikata replied curtly, not giving himself the chance to hesitate.

The cashier waved to the glass case behind him. "Which one?"

Hijikata eyed the collection looming before him; he hadn't expected so many choices. He was suddenly aware of how bright the lights were overhead. He scowled.

What the hell was he doing?

The cashier began to fidget. "Uhm…excuse me..."

"That one," he barked, pointing to a random brand.

The cashier scanned the box, the machine beeped, and a number appeared on the register. "That'll be 140 yen, sir."

"A lighter too."

The machine beeped again.

"180 yen, sir."

Hijikata placed the exact change down on the counter, grabbed his purchase, and took his leave, the bell above the door jingling again with his exit.

Outside, dusk had settled in the air, the trees and buildings nothing more than shadows against the darkening skies. The street lamps flickered on all at once, buzzing as the electricity hummed through their circuits. Hijikata strolled beneath them, stepping in and out of the pools of light, trying to keep his thoughts as far away as possible. He spotted a bench and sat down, fishing the box of cigarettes from his pockets and examined it. Against the moss-green background, the lettering printed across the front read "Golden Bat: Sweet and Mild." Beneath the label was the brand's logo: two small, golden bats placed side by side. He thought it all looked a little tacky, but what did he know? He was just some punk from the countryside after all. He peeled off the shrink wrap, opened the carton, and tapped out a light, holding it before him.

He stared at the white roll of paper between his fingers. He stared at it for a long time. Then he dropped his arms onto his lap and hung his head, his shoulders bowed beneath the press of an invisible weight. He crushed the carton in his hands, the picture of the golden bats crumpling between his fists. He sighed wearily, the unlit cigarette dangling between his legs.

What the hell was he doing?

He thought of the letter in his pocket, the characters written in that familiar hand, simple and elegant, just like her. It was nothing fancy, just a piece of paper one page long; it wasn't even addressed to him. It was just a piece of paper. Yet, somehow, it felt so much heavier than the sword at his side.

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1.

Back before the Shinsengumi, back when they were just a group of country bumpkins swinging their swords around in Bushu, Hijikata had appeared on Sougo's doorsteps.

The boy had been ditching practice, and Hijikata had the great misfortune of having to bring him back. He didn't really like Sougo, partly because it rankled him to have to call a brat ten years younger than him "senpai," and partly because the kid was always giving him the hairy eyeball from across the room. But since it was Kondo-san who had made the request, he had dutifully set off.

The heat that day was oppressive, boiling the air and making it difficult to breathe. He had arrived at the Okita household with sweat streaming from his temples. Sougo was sulking, curled on the tatami mats with an old fan whirring on the floor next to him. There was a young woman in the room as well, but Hijikata barely paid her any mind.

"Sougo-senpai," he said. "It's time for practice."

"You bastard!" Sougo shrilled, "what are you doing at my house?"

The bean of a child sprang up and charged him. Hijikata easily fended off the tiny fists with a hand to the kid's head.

"Kondo-san asked me to come get you," he replied tiredly.

"Die Hiji-baka! Dieeeee!"

Droplets of sweat dripped from Hijikata's chin. Civility seemed to be getting him nowhere. He thought it'd be faster to just grab the kid and leave, so he did just that, reaching over grab him by the scruff of his yukata. Sougo kicked and screamed like the demon spawn Hijikata always suspected he was, but he didn't loosen his grip as he dragged the child away. Overhead, the sunlight continued its aggressive onslaught and the cicadas screamed from the trees.

When they were halfway across the sunlight, a sudden laughter rang out behind him, cutting through the heat like a splash of cold water. Surprised, Hijikata paused to glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the young woman standing on the porch, her whole body shaking with amusement. She looked at him, and Hijikata suddenly thought of does with their wide, brown gazes, soft and wet at the same time. She took her hand away from her mouth and waved, the smile still on her face. He quickly turned back around and continued past the gates, the sound of her laughter still ringing through his head.

That was the first time Hijikata had met Okita Mitsuba.

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2.

Toshiro-san, would you like a drink before you leave?" Okita Mitsuba had asked.

Hijikata paused in the courtyard. He had been dropping by for the past few weeks to take Sougo to practice. After the first visit, he had begun to greet Mitsuba with a wordless tip of his head and each time she returned it with a small bow, smiling as if they were sharing a hidden joke. Hijikata never knew how to respond to that, so he remained silent while he grabbed Sougo and hurried away. This was the first time she had spoken to him.

"Make sure put poison in it, Nee-san!" Sougo yelled while trying to squirm his way out of Hijikata's grip.

"I'm fine," Hijikata replied quickly.

"How dare you turn down a drink from my sister!" Sougo raged.

"Maybe next time?" He heard her call out behind him. Hijikata hesitated. Her words hung in the air between them, the question nudging its head against his back, expectant. Before he knew what he was doing, he nodded once, then continued past the front gates.

The next day, Sougo showed up to the dojo of his own accord. Hijikata didn't know why, but he couldn't shake off the vague sense of disappointment that clung to him for the rest of the afternoon.

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3.

Mitsuba had begun showing up at the dojo.

In the summer, she arrived with the sleeves of her kimono tied back, carrying nets of watermelon in each hand. In the winter, she passed out bags of roasted chestnuts still hot from the flames, her, smiling that strange smile while the scent of woodsmoke floated off of her hair and clothes. The men descended upon the food like a flock of sweaty vultures.

"There's enough for everyone," she'd always say laughing.

She was effortlessly kind and making her laugh was as easy as blowing dandelion seeds off their stem. Of course, the men were all in love with her. They asked her about her day, asked her to look at bruise here or help bandage a cut there, asked her if she had a boyfriend yet. They clamored over each other and jostled one another to get closer to her, vying for her attention, but they were careful to never crush her, always leaving a wide berth between her and the rabble as if there were an invisible line they could not cross, and she was always there in the center like the eye of a storm, calm and placid with the sunlight streaming through.

It was around this time that Hijikata's reputation for being a demon began taking root.
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4.

It was night and Mitsuba had accompanied them all to the festival at the local shrine.

They walked past the rows of wooden stalls that stood shoulder to shoulder, housing vendors and small arcade games, the red lanterns pulsing as the smoke from the cooking grills hung suspended over their heads in a thick haze. The air thrummed with the crowd of voices and the bodies pressed past them in flow of colorful yukata.

Hijikata trailed behind while Mitsuba walked ahead with the others.

"Mitsuba-dono! What are you doing!" Kondo squawked.

"This is the best way to eat cotton candy," Mitsuba replied while shaking a bottle of Tabasco over the stick of spun sugar.

"Nobody does that! And where did you get the Tobasco from? It's strange! Too strange!"

She tore a tuft off and popped it in her mouth, laughing. "But it tastes better this way!"

After a while, Mitsuba claimed she was tired and would be heading back home.

"I'll walk you back, nee-san—ARGLUMPH!"

"Toshi!" Kondo called out behind him, keeping his hand clapped over Sougo's mouth. "Why don't you take Mitsuba-dono back?"

Soujo released a string of muffled protests, flailing wildly in Kondo's bear-like grip. Hijikata felt the same way.

"What? Why me?" He grouched.

"You've been walking around all night with that gloomy expression on your face. Why don't you just take it easy and turn in early, you can take Mitsuba-dono back on your way home."

Hijikata wondered if Kondo-san had forgotten that he lived in the complete opposite direction from her, all the way on the other side of town.

Mitsuba looked at him. "Really?"

Hijikata didn't miss the hope in her voice, the way it leaned in towards him on its tiptoes, holding its breath, waiting.

"Fine."

Her face bloomed into a smile, and Hijikata wasn't sure if he wanted to thank Kondo or kill him.

They left together, the lights and sounds growing fainter and fainter behind them as they walked further into nighttime's quieter embrace, their sandals scraping the dirt in unison as they walked side by side. The air was cool and a few crickets sang from their hidden places.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Toshiro-san?"

"It was all right," he muttered, folding his arms over his chest. The river flowed by to the left of their path, its dark surface polished silver by the moonlight. To their right, the old forest loomed like the maw of some great beast, the depths of which were impossible to see.

"Thank you for taking me home. To be honest, I was afraid of walking back alone. Just a little bit though," she quickly amended.

Hijikata glanced down at her with a frown. "What? Weren't you about to leave by yourself? What would you have done if Sougo or I hadn't said anything?" He glanced around. Now that he thought about it, it probably was a little dangerous. The street lamps on the road were few and dim, and forests like these were popular hideouts for bandits.

"Well then, I would've just had to be brave," she said matter-of-factly.

Hijikata slid his gaze towards her again, her head bobbing up and down by his shoulder while she walked.

"And if you were attacked?" He asked.

Mitsuba slipped her hand into the sleeve of her kimono and held out her bottle of Tabasco sauce. "Have you ever gotten Tabasco sauce in your eye, Hijikata-san? It's very painful."

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What kind of self-defense that?"

"A very resourceful one," Mitsuba rejoined good-naturedly. She replaced the bottle in her sleeve. "Never underestimate the power of Tabasco sauce."

"Mitsuba-san, you're actually pretty strange, aren't you?"

She laughed that laugh again, the one that reminded Hijikata of glass windchimes in the breeze, gentle and clear at the same time. "You think so?"

Hijikata looked at her. He thought of how, at first glance, she seemed to be one of those girls who floated through the world like a butterfly, dancing from flower to flower, dreamy and fragile and perhaps a bit lost, how it belied the woman who had raised her brother like a mother would, the one who everyone believed they were taking care of when it was always just the opposite. He thought of how the air around her always felt a little heavier, a little thicker, as if it the space around her had transformed into golden honey, pouring over the clock face, oozing between the gears so that the seconds seemed to tick by a little slower. He thought of how, in that moment, she made him want to reach out across the darkness and grab her, pulling her into him so he could bury his face into the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder, searching for the unnameable thing that had driven him to commit such madness.

Hijikata crossed his arms a little tighter and looked away.

"Yeah, pretty strange," he mumbled.

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5.

They had been sitting side by side one night, looking out into the courtyard, the cups of tea between them having long grown cold. The leaves on the maple tree had turned red and every so often one would break off and descend towards the ground in slow, lazy spirals. Hijikata looked up at the autumn moon, so close and full he felt as if he could reach up and grab it from its place among the stars.

This won't last, he thought quietly to himself.

"I should be going," he said, getting up to leave.

"Is it true that everyone is going to Edo to make a name for themselves?" Mitsuba suddenly asked. The air shifted: a ripple in the peace.

"Who told you that?" He demanded, already angry at whoever had cast the stone; it was too soon.

"Sou-chan was really excited about it this morning."

"That idiot," Hijikata growled out between his gritted teeth.

"May I...go too?" He stayed quiet and she raced ahead to explain. "I'm Sou-chan's guardian, afterall. Without me, he…" Mitsuba broke off, realizing that wasn't the entire truth. She looked down at her hands, her face growing hotter and hotter as the words tumbled haltingly from her lips. "And...I want to be with everyone...with you...I want to be by your side."

It was a question, a statement, a confession—Hijikata wasn't sure—so uncertain and unsteady he could have easily knock it aside with an easy sweep of the hand, but he didn't. Instead, he closed his eyes as the possibilities descended upon him like a flock of dreams: Him and Mitsuba getting married; coming home to her smile and, maybe one day, to the cries of their children; more moments like tonight, an infinite number of moments like tonight; watching twilight fall as they grew old together; grandchildren. He could do it. He could protect her, protect that smile and listen to that windchime laugh he loved so much until the end of his days.

Then it all tilted, and he glimpsed the darker shadows beneath: her eating supper alone while he worked late; her eying the clock worriedly, waiting for him return safely from patrol; her waiting at the hospital; her always waiting, waiting, waiting, always worried and alone. His heart tore in half and he gripped the two pieces in each hand, his fists squeezing them tighter and tighter until the pain became unbearable.

And then he saw her, standing before his grave before his grave, watching them throw dirt over his coffin, the tears streaming down her face, smooth and uncreased by age; her waiting alone for twilight to fall, the house behind her dark and empty.

"Toshiro-san?" Mitsuba asked.

Hijikata opened his eyes; he knew what he had to do.

"Do what you want, it has nothing to do with me," he said walking away, stepping into that dim future without her, leaving the mangled pieces on the ground behind him.

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Back at the bench beneath the streetlamp, Hijikata straightened. Night had fallen all around him. He fished out the lighter from his pocket and pressed down on the lever with his thumb. A small flame sprang up in response. He held the cigarette over it, waiting for it to light, the embers glowing like an angry red eye, smoke curling off of it in gray ribbons. He put the lighter away and held out the cigarette, considering it. He always thought smoking was a disgusting habit.

He then held the cigarette to his lips and inhaled. A moment later, he exploded in a violent fit of coughs, beating his chest over and over again, the smoke singeing his throat all the way down. His eyes watered as he held the cigarette away from him, one eye screwed shut in pain, the other brimming with tears.

He couldn't believe people were actually addicted to this stuff.

He brought the cigarette to his lips again and took another drag, breaking off into another string of coughs, his lungs burning as if they had been scorched; the irony was not lost upon him.

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6.

Dear Sou-chan,

How is Edo? Are you doing well? Are you getting along with everyone? Are you eating three meals a day? Do you floss every night? Remember, just brushing your teeth won't do.

As you can expect, things have been quiet since you all left last year, but I am getting by fine. It's getting a bit colder down here in Bushu now that summer is coming to an end. Do you have enough clothes to keep you warm? I'm knitting a scarf for you right now, but I'm worried I won't be finished by the time the chill sets in.

Apologies for my last letter, I know it probably gave you a small scare. I'm going to the hospital often for check-ups, so don't worry. My lungs are a little weak, but they say it's nothing too serious. Besides, the doctor says that with all the new technology the Amanto have brought, it's likely they'll find a cure for tuberculosis in the near future. I just have to hang on until then!

Please send my regards to everyone at the Shinsengumi. Remember, I'm always proud of all of you!

Love,

Nee-san.

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Some notes from the stupid author!_

1. The idea for this came a long time ago while watching the whole Mitsuba arc. It occurred to me halfway through that Hijikata didn't smoke while they were all out in Bushu. And then Mitsuba had this serious lung disease and smoking causes serious lung disease and the wheels in my head just started spinning and spinning and spinning and well, here we are.

2. This was supposed to be a short, three paged sketch. As you can see, things did not go according to plan.

3. To give credit where credit is due, the title is derived from a quote by President Abraham Lincoln, which actually goes as followed: "It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues." I wish I could say that I had come across it while doing some deeply intellectual research, but I actually just typed in "quotes with 'vices'" into google, and after some minimal clicking around, badda bing, badda boom, I had myself a title. This is who I am. Come at me bro.

4. Reviews and comments would be k00l! This is my first gintama fict, and I tried tinkering with a slightly new style, so it'd be lovely to hear people's thoughts! (Yay or nay for emo!Hijikata?)