Fleeting
Fingers numb, Chizuru tried to access the situation. Her sight was overcome with red, which had happened much too often in the past few years. But this was unexpected. The battles should have been over.
Even when fighting Kazama with a shot wound, Hijikata managed to come out victorious. So why is it that—just moments later—he fell into a heap in her arms? There was supposed to be some peace. The Shinsengumi had formed, fought and then been killed off. Hijikata had lived, though, and he was supposed to stay here with her.
A mixture of salt, water, and blood ran down her face. He had been strong, not only physically, but in spirit as well.
He was a man true to honor. He was strict, but caring. He demanded much, but in the end it was only what was necessary.
He was beautiful. Chizuru thought this even as his beaten body broke steadily to dust in her arms.
All beauty died quickly. From the cherry tree petals falling upon her skin to the sediments that used to be the man in her arms.
He was, in truth, what Kazama had said.
So when she turned to leave, she whispered her goodbye to him in the name he had earned.
"Goodbye, Hakuoki. Farewell, Demon of the Fleeting Blossom."