Black hair

There was an old song in Gion, a well-known one, performed many times by many geisha and those who had seen the accompanying dance could hardly forget it.

Tied with hope

Yamanami Keisuke, chief of the Shinsengumi, tried to recall the lines of the song, one by one, for the last time.

And the pillow it unravels on

He knelt down slowly and took off his kimono. It was early spring, the 23rd day of the 2nd month, and he shivered in the cool room.

Is the pillow I sleep on alone

All officers, with whom he had been close friends for long-long years, were there but he could only see them blurry, since his senses were now working in another dimension.

Gripping my sleeve

Just minutes ago some of his old comrades had tried to convince him about escaping, but he had made up his mind and his decision would have lost its meaning if he had run away. And bushido had hold him back as well.

And telling myself I am his wife

Had he called up the road that lead him to that room, he wouldn't have regretted anything. It had been rather fate than his choices that had made him end up there. Yet he still felt remorse about one thing.

While remembering the spirit of a young girl and her spite

He had long loved a woman, a tenjin from Shimabara, who had performed the song and the dance many times. Had there been anything making him hesitate before stepping into the room – then it would have been her.

The sound of the bell against the silence

He had wanted to pay her debts and set her free from the shadows of the red-light district, he had been planning taking her as his wife, but he hadn't been able to make any of these happen, there had been no long and happy future ahead them.

Awakened from the dream of last night

Neither could he see her performing the dance gracefully ever again. But it might had been for the better, otherwise the farewells would have been even more painful.

An old memory by now

He took the dagger placed in front of him. Others would have used a fan disguised as a knife to imitate seppuku, leaving the job to the second, but he was not such man.

And the white snow that lingers

He closed his eyes, then opened them after a few seconds. His vision became clear again. He raised the dagger, and could see as his second, Okita Souji stepped closer with an unsheathed sword.

Without knowing it so