"Captain! Please wake up!"
Sougo takes his time opening his eyes, making use of the fact that nobody can tell whether he's responded to the intrusive voice due to his sleeping mask. He takes a while to gather his surroundings and once he realises that he's not actually burying the mayora alive under gallons of mayonnaise, rage overtakes his senses.
Which dipshit dares to rouse him from one of the best dreams of his life?
"Captain! It's an emergency!"
Yes. Yes it is. The idiot who woke him up is about to be maimed, severely.
At an achingly slow pace, the 24-year-old removes his sleeping mask. Impassive crimson irises catch sight of an out-of-breath Yamazaki. Only the Shinsengumi's spy would be brave (stupid) enough to awaken their first division captain.
Before he can punish the foolish subordinate with a surprise German suplex, he hears something interesting,
"Someone from the Yato clan has destroyed Saikai Park!"
Normally news about this particular group wouldn't faze him in the slightest. The Yato clan is possibly the most ruthless group of gangsters in Japan, notorious for their ridiculously powerful fighters and uncontrollable bloodlust. Almost every other day the Shinsengumi come into contact with these lawbreakers and more often than not they return worse for wear.
As a police officer, Okita himself has had a few run-ins with these mobsters and even he rarely comes out of these encounters unscathed. They cause trouble with their presence alone; so this is nothing new to him. Normally he would trick his Vice Captain into accepting these missions but since Saikai Park happens to be Okita's favourite place to patrol (slack off at).
"The bench?"
The spy visibly trembles as he whispers almost inaudibly, "It's shattered."
Calmly walking out of the headquarters, Yamazaki doesn't miss the way Sougo's lips turn upwards into a maniacal grin. He shudders. The poor soul who broke his taichou's bench is about to be beaten within an inch of his life, healed, and then beaten all over again, if he's lucky.
When Okita arrives at the park, revenge for the demolition of his sleeping spot is the only thing he seeks. It is no secret that that is his bench: his to use and to destroy. The Yato clansman who shattered it has just signed his own death warrant.
So imagine his surprise when he finds a woman - not a man - in the middle of the bloodbath.
A beautiful woman at that.
He doesn't mean beautiful in a conventional sense either, for the officer has yet to see her face. But what he is able to see from this distance, he very much likes. Vermillion locks sway with every turn of her head. Strong, lithe limbs flex with each graceful - yet bone shattering - blow she delivers to her opponents, his allies. In this moment the park isn't a battlefield but a stage. This creature isn't fighting but dancing to the erratic beat of violence, painting this scene with the blood of those who have the gall to defy her.
Sougo knows she's the enemy yet he can't help but watch the tigress in action. His sadistic nature draws him to her violent, uncontrollable dance (but who would ever want to control such passion in the first place?).
Is it wrong for him to admit that he has a boner from watching her single-handedly pulverize his comrades?
That's what they get though, for trying to control what cannot be. Her wild, vivacious persona can only be tamed by one who shares in her passion. And boy does his passion burn brightly for her. Heck if she hadn't annihilated them for their wimpy behaviour, he would have done so himself. Judging by their wails of agony he is confident that the intensity of the pain she bestows upon his subordinates is almost on par with his. And that just makes him want her even more.
Right from her first throat-punch, he mentally declared her as his. Nobody has the right to touch what belongs to him.
Like a flame she is enchanting but deadly: luring you in yet burning you if you get too close. The sadist in him craves to dominate this fiery spirit. The lesser-known masochist in him craves to be subjected to whatever punishment she would give him.
She's fire personified, and Okita likes playing with fire.
He completely forgets that she broke his bench.
"Oi." He calls out to her as she punches some poor soul's face in repetitively without sparing him a glance. Chuckling, he walks up to her, standing directly behind her crouched form. With her back to him all he observes of the woman is her Chinese-styled hairdo and pale skin. "What's an illegal immigrant like you doing here?"
She continues to ignore him until he mutters "Just go back to China already."
Whipping around she glares daggers at the officer, stunning him momentarily with the intensity of her gaze. Cheeks flushed in anger, piercing cerulean irises, thin lips pursed in irritation, - if he thought she was beautiful based on her fighting form from afar, she's even better up close.
But he'd never tell her that.
Squashing his raging hormones Okita raises an eyebrow in feigned disinterest.
"What's wrong China?" He cackles internally at her obvious rage from his nickname, "Does your homeland not accept shemales?"
One moment he's towering over her, the next he's flat on his back with her straddling him. "Baka tax-robber," she whispers into his ear and it takes all his willpower to not growl at the tingling sensation of her breath on his neck, "both you and I know that I'm definitely…" she presses her breasts against his chest, "…100%..." and grinds her hips into his, "…female."
He stifles his groan and flips them over to assume the dominant role. Holding both her wrists captive with one hand, she's surprised (and even slightly impressed) to find herself unable to break free of his hold. Touching her forehead with his he murmurs "I'm interested in women, not little girls."
Although he is well aware that this vixen is certainly not a little girl - he silently congratulated puberty for doing such a marvellous job - Sougo is in no way about to willingly display his sexual attraction to this delinquent.
That doesn't mean he won't tease her at every given opportunity.
But first thing's first: grabbing a pair of handcuffs with his free hand he cuffs her slender wrists, blatantly taking pleasure in her flabbergasted expression. Somewhere deep within the recesses of his twisted mind, Sougo imagines another scene where he could use those handcuffs–
"It took you long enough Sougo."
That cockblocking Hijikata. He'll be sure to poison his mayonnaise for dinner tonight.
Okita stands up, roughly pulling the China girl by her handcuffs. Shoving her into the police car like a sack of potatoes, the officers ignore the string of expletives that leave her mouth at being manhandled. He moves to sit at the back with their criminal when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"You won't be sitting with her until you can control your hormones."
The look in the older man's eyes show no hint of a joke, but the smoker has always been a serious person. Sougo knows that his superior saw the interaction between the two of them so he says the only thing that comes to mind.
"Die Hijikata."
"You die first!"
Okita sits in the front seat, ignoring his Vice-Captain's rant (something about public behaviour and seppuku) and eyeing the woman in the back seat from the rear-view mirror.
All the while during the car ride to the headquarters, one question lingers in his mind.
If the China girl is strong enough to hold her own against a wave of police officers, why did she surrender so quickly to him?