I first met him as a child. I had been wandering, lost, through the streets of Edo. I had gotten separated from my mother in the market, and being nine at the time had been sure I could find her myself. Unfortunately I hadn't considered that I had no sense of direction what-so-ever, and as it grew dark I began to regret my decision.
Shadows flickered past me in the darkening Edo alley-way, and a drunkard, collapsed near the back door of a Geisha house caught my wrist as I stumbled passed.
I can't remember the words the man said, I can only remember the fear I had of him, the tightness of his bruising grip, and the odor of his rancid breath.
What I do remember, is the boy who saved me. Being barely ten himself, Okita Souji had charged in catching the man by surprise and inevitably freeing me from his grasp.
He was armed only with a wooden sword at the time, but he held himself proudly, as if it were a real one. It was there, in that run-down alley, that I first caught a glimpse of that sardonic smirk.
"Didn't your mother tell you?" He teased the stunned man, "It isn't nice to pick on girls."
By then the drunkard was back on his feet, and furious, he charged at Okita-san and I closed my eyes, predicting the outcome of the battle.
But when I'd opened them again, it was Okita who grinned down at me, "Pretty girls shouldn't be wandering around in this part of town," his eyes flickered with amusement, "if you do it again I might have to kill you."
That was the start of a beautiful friendship.