Okita Sougo was out on his evening Hijikata assassination brainstorm jog when a disturbance at the front gate caught his attention.
"Police!" called a high-pitched voice. A young child? At this time of night? Sougo sighed in exasperation, but though he would never admit it, the thought of a child in need was enough motivation to get him to do practically anything. He diverted his course to bypass the men's barracks (missing a perfect opportunity to whisper curses at Hijikata's window, but it couldn't be helped) and headed up the front path.
He arrived just in time to watch a tangle of five or six limp bodies tumble over the gate and land in a pile of crooked limbs. Another, smaller figure leapt down from the gate after them and landed delicately on one knee. "Police!" the figure shouted, standing and brushing itself off. "I brought you some criminals, uh-huh!"
"Are you turning yourself in?" Sougo drawled, arms crossed. Normally he would be secretly pleased for the sparring opportunity, verbal and physical, that the Yorozuya's China girl provided, but tonight he was too tired to deal with any of the ridiculous drama that trio regularly brought down on them. "I knew you'd like being handcuffed."
"Oh, it's you," she said, wrinkling her nose. "These men were taking little girls to Yoshiwara, uh-huh, and they had swords and everything and Gin-chan says if a stranger tries to kidnap you you're supposed to find a policeman."
He frowned. Her hair was loose from its usual metal bun things. She seemed out of breath and hadn't attacked him unprovoked, which was frankly unlike her. Before he could get too worried, though, three Shinsengumi guards rounded the corner, gripping the hilts of their swords.
"Okita-taichou! What's going on?"
Okita gestured at the pile of groaning bodies. "Take these men into custody. I'll handle the rest."
"Yes, sir!" they shouted in unison and got to work dragging the men away.
Kagura met his eyes. "You believe me?" She was slightly bent, one hand on her side like she had a stitch from running.
"We've been tracking that gang for a while," he explained casually, searching her tense expression for any flicker of pain. "How'd you manage to get caught up in it this time?"
She sighed. "Never mind that, just give me my reward, uh-huh so I can go home."
He reached up to give her a sharp cuff across the back of her head. "No rewards for brats like you," he jeered, waiting for her to retaliate. Forcing an opponent to attack was the perfect way to gauge the extent of their injuries - though, he supposed, the China girl wasn't exactly an opponent.
But she didn't retaliate. She took a deep breath. "Hey sadist, we can take a break from hitting each other, okay? I've been hit enough tonight, uh-huh."
"Ehh?" he said, grinning. "Did little China get hurt? Guess you're not so strong after all."
"Shut up," she snapped, and he noticed her gritted teeth and ashen face at last. "I'd put you in the ground right now uh-huh except it's not good for your karma to beat up too many people in one night."
She lifted her hand from her abdomen to point threateningly at him, and that's when he saw it. A deep, jagged cut, just above her waist.
Next to the bright red splotch of blood, her red qipao appeared faded and pale.
"I'll be back for the reward, uh-huh!" She turned around, wobbling slightly, and began to climb back over the front gate, but the effort of pulling herself up was too much. She fell to her knees with a gasp.
Okita laughed hollowly, but internally he was growing worried. Pain and injury barely affected China usually. Even that one time she'd broken her arm and he'd made it worse, she only cried for a few minutes before jumping right back into the battle. Something about this was different. It wasn't comedic at all, which was frankly annoying.
He squatted next to her, trying to meet her downcast eyes. "Oi, what's wrong with you?" She tilted sideways and Okita found himself with an armful of China. "Hey, get off me," he grunted. He started to push her away, but soon noticed her body was limp. The young swordsman's heartbeat stuttered and instead he pushed her to the ground none too delicately, rushing to examine the extent of the wound at her side.
Okita had seen his fair share of blood before, being so fond of shedding it. But he'd never seen this much from someone so small - someone who, despite the puddle of red seeping out from her body, was still breathing.
Breathing. Right. Her breaths were growing shallower and raspier. Okita snapped into action, kneeling beside her, his pant legs already soaked through with her blood.
"China?" he said sharply, but her eyes had slid closed. He pulled off his jacket and folded it sloppily, pressing the mass of cloth against her wound.
At the contact, she arched her back off the ground with a yelp, eyes flickering open. She moaned in pain. "Still here, huh?" she gasped.
"Hey, stop that. You're getting blood all over my pants, see? It's gross. Don't you hate it when you get blood on your pants every month?" His voice betrayed none of his concern, but he was desperate for a response from her. Surely she would stand up and punch him after that terrible period joke, right?
She glared. That was all. This was definitely a serious injury.
"Damn it, China, if you die here I'll never get to kill you properly," he muttered.
"Am I - am I going to die?" she said between shuddering breaths. Their eyes locked together. One of his hands held the jacket over her wound, the other gripped her shoulder. Her own hands were limp at her sides. Okita's heart sped up. She had an odd look on her face, a look that made his chest hurt. It was the same expression he made when his sister had a coughing fit or he led Kondo into danger. It was a curious mixture of shame and fear that was only ever reflected in the face of someone very strong who had suddenly become helpless.
Okita leaned over Kagura and reached for her hand. He guided it to the makeshift bandage on her stomach. "Hold it there as tight as you can," he said, then he gathered her to his chest. He lifted her effortlessly. Her head rested on his bare collarbone now, and he could feel every one of her laborious breaths.
"You -" she began, but he interrupted.
"Don't try to speak right now. Or ever again, actually. The world would be much nicer without your annoying screech."
"- bastard," she finished under her breath.
She was light, he found himself thinking.
Holding her was strangely fulfilling. In the moment he chalked it up to his sadistic nature, but upon reflection, he realized it was simply the effect of being so close to someone physically and spiritually at the same time, which he was not accustomed to. Visceral selflessness, it turns out, can be a nice feeling.
He walked to the infirmary as fast as he could without shaking her too much. He slid the door open with his shoulder. It was dark inside, but he managed to flip the light switch using China's foot. Due to budget cuts, the Shinsengumi no longer offered 24-hour emergency care to its officers, so no one was on duty.
He set her down on the nearest cot, not bothering that the bare mattress was about to become soaked with blood. She'd drifted into unconsciousness somewhere along the way, and her head lolled back. He caught it in his hand and laid it gently on the cot. His fingers lingered on her forehead for a moment, brushing back the vermillion hair that was stuck to her sweaty brow. The wrinkle of pain that had settled there spurred Okita into action once again.
He ran to the cabinet and tore it open, pulling out handfuls of gauze and long rolls of bandages. He grabbed a jar of antiseptic ointment and, after a moment's hesitation, a bottle of painkillers.
Thankfully, China was wearing a two-piece ensemble, so he only had to pull up her shirt. Even more thankfully, the wound was low enough on her abdomen that there was no need to expose anything. If he had seen that - not that he wanted to, of course, it would be gross - she'd probably sue him for sexual harassment or something even though he'd saved her life.
He got to work quickly, cleaning the wound and stemming the blood with antiseptic-soaked gauze. He was no nurse, but years of experience had taught him a thing or two about first aid, especially when it came to sword-related injuries. When the wound was thoroughly packed with gauze, he propped her up against his shoulder so he could wrap the bandage around her torso. Her forehead rested on his cheek. Which was, for some reason, awfully warm.
He laid her back down and inspected his handiwork. Not bad, he thought. A bit crooked, but it would do. It occurred to him that he ought to check that she was actually still alive, so he bent over her and felt around her neck for a pulse. He found it eventually, but it was weak.
She was so pale. Was she always that pale? He ran to the sink and filled a cup with shaky hands. His heart pounding again, he gripped her shoulder and shook gently. "China," he said. "China, wake up. Come on, open those creepily large eyes. You have to wake up now. China!"
Her eyes opened into lazy slits. "Let me sleep, uh-huh Gin-chan?" she mumbled.
"It's not Danna," Okita said, propping her up again. He held the cup of water up to her face. "You lost a lot of blood. Here, you need to drink this."
She attempted to lift a shaky hand, but it fell back. "Too tired, uh-huh," she said. He sighed.
"I suppose I could do it for you. I've always wanted to try waterboarding," he said.
He put the cup on her chapped lips and gently tipped it back. Despite her half-conscious state, she managed to swallow some without choking.
The water seemed to rouse Kagura a bit and she turned her head towards her de facto nurse, blinking. Her brow was furrowed. "Sadist?" she whispered. "Sorry I can't throw you across the room right now. It really hurts, uh-huh…"
Okita slipped a painkiller into her mouth and helped her wash it down. The drug seemed to come into effect almost immediately, as the lines on Kagura's forehead relaxed and she sagged against his arm. He laid her back down.
"Hey," he said quietly, mostly to himself. "Aren't you Yato supposed to be invincible or something? And you're down like this after a little pinprick?"
She didn't respond. Her breaths deepened and evened out. Okita's heart finally slowed down.
He washed his hands in the sink, watching the water turn rusty with blood. What now? Call the boss or the glasses kid? Leave her and go to sleep in his own room? She probably didn't need his help anymore. He could even attach a note for the morning shift nurse: ITS NAME IS CHINA. PLEASE FEED AND RETURN TO YOROZUYA, KABUKICHOU.
He was still covered in blood, but somehow undressing and taking a shower sounded like a lot of work. Caring for this girl had drained him of his extremely limited capacity for empathy and he was dead tired.
In the end, he flipped off the lights and curled up on a cot across the room from her, telling himself it was just so he could mock her relentlessly as soon as she woke up.
The deep, even breaths of his rival lulled him into a comfortable sleep.
When he awoke to the click of the door closing, it took him a few minutes to orient himself. "China?" he said groggily, but the room was empty. He opened the door just in time to see a blur of red slip over the top of the gate bathed in cold dawn light.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. She was okay. He trudged back to the barracks, yawning, expecting to take a shower and get in a few more hours of sleep before morning exercises. What he didn't expect was the face that greeted him in the mirror.
"I'M A SADIST" was scrawled across his cheeks in permanent marker and a crooked, curly mustache adorned his lips. On his forehead was a grinning pile of poop. He stared at his reflection for a few moments, blinking, before slamming the bathroom door open and launching himself over the front gate, running towards Kabukichou with his bazooka drawn.
"CHINAAAAAA!"
What he'd failed to notice were the tiny characters on the palm of his hand that read "thanks."