many months had passed since souji okita's death. May as well have been days, years, who cares. Whatever.
Saitou slumped in his chair. A man with less strength may have died with his lover, may as well have? But saitou took it in stride. swallowing down the tears and sobs and.. whatever. He flicked his cigarette onto the floor. Okay so maybe in souji okita's death he had lost a little more of his.. emotion. Was maybe a little colder. Who'd have thought. Blood, evil, power, killing, good. None of it mattered quite the same. Grey everywhere he looked, and hollow motions of his duty echoeing behind him. Just a shell, just doing what he'd always done.
Tokio had been annoyingly more affectionate since. Perhaps out of guilt. Perhaps out of a sudden fear of death, seeing one so like saitou die so young. Her affection had driven him away from hme, he spent most nights sleeping at the station. Himura had even come by to see him. Hijikata. Shinsengumi men. Kaoru. Like he was the one who 'd died, he was getting all of this concern out of the blue.
" maybe i am dead.. " he muttered into the stagnant air of his chamber.
The men had all gone home hours ago. Night engulfed the kyoto streets and laying claim over his desk and face, darkness covering him as he sat silently in that chair, only the red glow of cigarettes, one after the other, giving way to his very presence.
It took several hours, but saitou finally stood, deciding to go home and sleep properly for once that week. he sighed heavily and locked up, the streets still busy townspeople, the hour was not yet too late.. though everywhere he looked.. Saitou shoved his hands into the pockets of his police uniform. Whatever.
Ghosts of what he'd lost. And passing an eatery, he saw a ghost so vivid he may have stopped. May have questioned okit'as death being real. If he cared. Whatever. His mind was playing tricks on him, maybe he was crazy. He didn't have the heart or energy to even turn his head at the young innocent face in the crowd.
Saitou slumped in his chair. A man with less strength may have died with his lover, may as well have? But saitou took it in stride. swallowing down the tears and sobs and.. whatever. He flicked his cigarette onto the floor. Okay so maybe in souji okita's death he had lost a little more of his.. emotion. Was maybe a little colder. Who'd have thought. Blood, evil, power, killing, good. None of it mattered quite the same. Grey everywhere he looked, and hollow motions of his duty echoeing behind him. Just a shell, just doing what he'd always done.
Tokio had been annoyingly more affectionate since. Perhaps out of guilt. Perhaps out of a sudden fear of death, seeing one so like saitou die so young. Her affection had driven him away from hme, he spent most nights sleeping at the station. Himura had even come by to see him. Hijikata. Shinsengumi men. Kaoru. Like he was the one who 'd died, he was getting all of this concern out of the blue.
" maybe i am dead.. " he muttered into the stagnant air of his chamber.
The men had all gone home hours ago. Night engulfed the kyoto streets and laying claim over his desk and face, darkness covering him as he sat silently in that chair, only the red glow of cigarettes, one after the other, giving way to his very presence.
It took several hours, but saitou finally stood, deciding to go home and sleep properly for once that week. he sighed heavily and locked up, the streets still busy townspeople, the hour was not yet too late.. though everywhere he looked.. Saitou shoved his hands into the pockets of his police uniform. Whatever.
Ghosts of what he'd lost. And passing an eatery, he saw a ghost so vivid he may have stopped. May have questioned okit'as death being real. If he cared. Whatever. His mind was playing tricks on him, maybe he was crazy. He didn't have the heart or energy to even turn his head at the young innocent face in the crowd.