The Weight of a Human Soul

Written by Matsudairaismyuncle.

Edited by ProngoDee.

Chapter Two - Blending In

Kyoto was a terrible place. In the day-time, people traversed the streets in displays of all assortments of riches. The women were so immaculately groomed you couldn't tell the courtesans from the married wives. The men lavished their well-earned money on passing pleasures. No one knew if they were going to live through the night, so why not spend and live while you still can? But when all is said and done, by night, the hellish blood-bathed streets revealed their true nature under the moonlight.

It was a quiet night at headquarters. The type of quiet that foretold bloodstained clothes and grim faces upon the men's return. Okita Souji watched the clouds slowly inch across the moon. "You two don't have to stay up with me, you know." He noticed the shadow of the two men posted at either side of his doorway move slightly in response and wondered who would speak up first.

"Sir, will the first squadron be mobilizing at all tonight?" The voice came from the left side of the hallway. It was a smooth barotone, refined and yet strangely powerful. Hayashi Mori. Okita recalled the background check on the twenty-five year old man. He had come from a once well to do merchant family that had suffered as a result of the insurgence of foreign trade. His family had sent their only son to be trained under the most reputable kenjutsu instructors in the country, giving the child a chance to escape the downturn of events in Kyoto. Upon the conclusion of his training, he had returned to Kyoto to find his family dead at the hands of Choshu. He realized that all the time he had been gone, his family had been reduced to begging for his schooling fees. Souji could smell the blood-lust in the man from a mile away. It was the same smell he so feared and despised, the same one he had tried to hard to cover on himself. Mori did not attempt at all to cover his desire for Choshu blood. As much as Tetsu had to be shown what demons are like, Mori already embodied everything vile in the duties of the Shinsengumi - with no trace of regret or hesitation.

"I'm afraid not, Hayashi-kun." Souji could hear the man's thoughts. I should have been placed somewhere else. Anywhere, but with this weak and pathetic excuse of a captain. He watched as Mori drew up to his full height, his broad shoulders casting a large shadow over his door screen. He was as tall as Hijikata, if not quite as broad. He could see the small bump on the man's head from his dark black hair held up in a neat and high chonmage. Heisuke had been one of few men that bothered to wear a chonmage off the battlefield. It was simply too hard to keep up the appearance, and meticulousness was not in the vocabulary of most men of their age. Heisuke was meticulous about his looks. Mori, on the other hand, was meticulous about his work. His sharp almond-shaped eyes were always observant and ready, dark pools belaying his greedy and hunger to kill. Souji shivered unconsciously as he watched the shadow bow, and leave. He suddenly noticed the other one had not moved from his post. "Genji-kun, you may also leave. It's already late, you should go get some rest."

"I'm sorry sir, but the vice commander told us to stand guard. None of your other men have left their posts either." This other one, Genji Satoki, was another story altogether. Souji smiled. There was something strange about him, something he couldn't put his finger on. But regardless, Souji found himself liking Satoki much more than his counterpart. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he reminded him of Saizo. A bulldog on the outside, a soft little piglet-y thing on the inside. And Souji loved piglets. The fact that Satoki was no warrior did not escape his notice. But he was willing to bet the man was not a spy or Choshu henchman despite the fact that their background check had drawn up a blank. All they found was that he had been an orphan at a monastery up north, then left at age 10 to live a vagabond's life. "They won't be back anytime soon."

"I understand." Souji thought he heard the faintest tinge of weariness in the young man's voice. He thought about it for a moment.

"Satoki-kun, would you come in please?" There was some hesitation before he opened the door paneling, stepped in, and closed it again behind him. Then, he knelt down again close by the door. Souji's eyebrows raised in surprise at the figure, forehead and fingertips pressed together against the floor. "What are you doing?" He asked bluntly.

"Sorry to disturb, sir. I... don't want to impinge on your privacy." Souji held his hands over his mouth, but not quickly enough to stifle the eruptive laughter. Satoki slowly looked up at the great swordsman, and saw instead a young man near his own age dressed in a pale gown sitting up in bed. His dark violet hair fell straight and silky down his back, and framed a pair of large bright eyes full of mirth. This wasn't the first time he'd seen the young captain in casual attire - it was after all his normal attire - but seeing him in such an private environment, with his guard down and at complete ease, Satoki realized for the first time how normal of a person Okita Souji was.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just... I called you in, you really don't need to be so civil." Souji said, half exasperated, half amused. Satoki remained hesitant, unsure of what was expected of him. "What did you want with me, sir?"

Souji blinked, and then assumed a thoughtful pose. "Hm... nothing really. I guess I thought you'd be quite bored outside by yourself. And I was certainly quite bored here moon-watching by myself. So I thought since we've both decided to wait for the others to come home, we could wait up together." Souji saw the incredulous expression form on Satoki's face. His dark brown eyes stared at Souji without response, until the captain waved a hand comically.

"Yes, sir." Satoki mentally winced at this inappropriate reply. But he truly did not know what to say to that suggestion. He was in the bedchamber of his captain, the great swordsman Okita Souji of legend, and the man wants to watch the moon with him?!

"Come over, then. You can sit against that frame there - it gives you the best view of the sky. And there's usually a nice breeze that comes along. Quite refreshing." Souji sang cheerily. Satoki obeyed, having no other alternative, and warily sat against the frame of the wall with the opening to the veranda against the western courtyard. "Do you want some candy?" Out of nowhere, Souji procured a bag of multicolored sweets.

Satoki shook his head, and then watched as the man popped one into his own mouth. "You shouldn't be eating those, sir." The moment those words left his mouth, he regretted them. Souji tilted his head to the side in curiosity. "Eh? Why not~?" Damn it. He struggled between choosing to answer or to say nothing. But if he said nothing, the comment might be taken a command of some sort. Okita Souji might think his ego had swollen to the point of no return, simply because he'd invited him into his room. But if he answered, it would also bring light to the fact that he'd definitely overstepped his boundaries.

"You... you're ill aren't you?"

Souji laughed. "Ah, you caught me. I forgot I was here sick in bed, acting the invalid. You see, Hijikata-san wouldn't believe me when I said it was just some dizziness." He pouted. "He always mothers me. I hope you're not the same - I love these candies. Can't survive a day without them!" He took another one from the bag.

"Sir, you really can't go on eating those. They'll worsen your condition."

"I've never heard of a little candy worsening anyone's headache before." Souji laughed.

Satoki damned his tongue, but decided that the life of the man in front of him was more important. "It won't hurt your head, but it'll coat your throat, worsen your cough and cause the growth in your lungs to spread faster." The breeze finally came, but it did nothing for the bead of sweat that had gathered on his neck. The night air had suddenly ceased to feel tranquil, rather thick with apprehension. Souji's smile fell from his lips, as did all emotion from his visage. They sat motionless for a few moments. Satoki was too afraid to look up, and instead counted the stitches on the tatami mats.

"What are you talking about?" Souji's voice had changed. If ever Satoki had thought the man was overtly effeminate, those thoughts slipped quickly away. The voice that spoke now was as cool as the edge of his katana, and twice as dangerous. Satoki could read the situation well enough to know he'd lost the moment where he could have still retracted anything he said. It was no use trying to hide now. "I've seen it many, many times before, sir. So many that even though no two people's symptoms are exactly the same, I can tell."

Souji pondered this for a moment. "I'm still not certain I understand what you're diagnosing me with, Genji-san." Satoki subconsciously felt an inkling of indignant anger at Souji's detached mentality. Surely the man knew he was in bad condition! What was he trying to deny?

"Your consumption sir, is in its middle stages of progression. Most likely you've been losing weight for many months now, you feel weak and dizzy, and have experienced a decline in speed and motor coordination. Your coughing has probably worsened, especially at night and is frequently accompanied by fever and nausea. And if I'm not mistaken, there's been ... blood." Satoki chanced a peak at the man. He could not read the expression on Souji's face as the latter regarded him thoughtfully.

It was several moments later that Souji sighed. "I've played it off as different illnesses quite effectively, but it doesn't seem as if I can get past you." He gave Satoki a lopsided smile. The new recruit breathed a sigh of relief at this reaction. At least he hadn't been sentenced to seppuku for stepping over the line. "Can you keep it a secret? We don't want the other men to lose morale over this thing."

Satoki dared try his luck one more time. "If you promise not to eat so many harmful things and take good care of your body." He said softly.

Souji's eyes widened. If he had been in any weaker state of mind, he probably would have blushed. "I'll try."

"Does no one else know?"

"Aside from Hijikata-san, no one else knows." Souji smiled. "Hijikata-san used to be a medicine peddler. He saw the symptoms too, and found out. Thankfully, he's familiar with many of the treatments and medicines, so he's been making them for me."

"What kinds of things is he using?" Souji looked surprised. "I don't know, I just eat whatever he gives me. Which is usual yucky tasting, which is why I needed these-" He indicated to the bag of candies with a sigh. "But now... how will I ever get those gross things down? Anyway, why do you ask, Satoki-kun?"

"Because Hijikata-san has been a vice-commander for a long time, so I'm afraid he hasn't familiarized himself with the new treatments available."

Souji regarded the young man before him with some thought. Satoki Genji was a twenty-two year old young man with a plain, round face. His dark brown hair was tied into a short bushy tail, with soft bangs that framed a pair of intelligent chocolate-hued eyes. His small lips frequently carried a slight downward tilt at the edges, and were now pulled into a thin line - possibly out of nervousness. There was really nothing noteworthy about him at all, and not for the first time, Souji recalled some of the adept descriptions his colleagues had given to compare the two newcomers: a hawk and a squirrel. Said squirrel had tried his best to square his shoulders, but being about the same size as Souji himself, the action did not do much to impress. "I-I didn't mean to discredit the vice commander, sir."

Souji blinked. "Eh? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking... how is it that you know so much about this condition?"

"I grew up in a monastery," Satoki hesitated. "Many poor who could not afford to pay a medic came to us as a last resort, or to simply die. We lived up in a mountain, where there were many species of herbs and medicines available. Some of the priests were very knowledgeable, more so than men who learn from those healing schools I would think. I helped out where could, and learned to see the signs."

"I see." A pause. "Did they all die, then?"

Satoki dared not look up at his superior. "Yes. It was one of the incurables. The priests did all they could to make the sufferers as comfortable as possible, and extend their lives for as long as possible, but... in the end they all died. We... we had to bury them quickly afterward, because the spread gets worse after a person dies."

"The spread?"

"It's transferable. When they are still living and have yet to succumb, the substance that lives within them already begins to explore and permeate other vessels.. especially those who are already ill with other symptoms. That's why we always quarantined those with consumption in one wing. But when they died, it was much worse. The substance is desperate to latch onto a new vessel. Many monks caught it this way." Satoki gave a sideways half-smile. "For some reason, I didn't catch it. My master at the time said it was because they nursed me on the herbal stews given to the patients, because there was no milk, and so my blood runs with a natural defense. Maybe they were right, because every time I got sick, no medicine has ever worked on me and-"

He stopped, suddenly realizing that he'd been rambling. Souji had a faraway look in his eyes. "Is that why... you try to keep me away from the others?" He mused quietly. Satoki knew he had been speaking about Hijikata.

It was true - the vice commander had always been the only one privy to Souji's quarters on a regular basis. The infamous swordsman had been making fewer and fewer appearances in battle, and spent most of his time in private. So much so that the rumors which had started as a joke had, throughout the years, permeated into the men's minds as a reality of sorts. Okita-san and Hijikata-san are having an illicit relationship. It was not without reason. What the men saw were two men who had grown up as brothers, privy to each others deepest secrets. They saw one of the two burgeon into an effeminate and beautiful little thing who was the only creature they'd ever seen the demon vice-commander look at with love. They thought they saw the two in each others bed chambers until late at night, doing unspeakable things. But they didn't see what Genji Satoki saw, and that was the secret baskets of seemingly harmless weeds hidden in Hijikata's room, the packages of newspaper bound material that he brewed for hours at night to bring to Souji. They were not kept awake by the unmistakeable smell of herbal medicine, and did not know that the one man stayed in the others chambers until morning not for pleasure, but to keep the other company so he did not have to change his sweat-soaked bedsheets and bloodied handkerchiefs by himself. They also could not have known that the medicines Hijikata had been making were two decades outdated, and his technique made poor and sloppy by rough swordsman's hands. Satoki was the only one in the unit, he was sure, who could tell the smell of burnt leaves from a medicinal sage from Tetsu's burnt tea.

"I can help you, sir. If you don't think it impertinent." He blurted. It was really none of his business, especially as it was probably considered impertinent and seppukku-worthy. It was why he'd kept his mouth shut all this time. "I am... much more familiar with this line of work than he is."

Souji did not answer for a while. When he did, it was so quiet Satoki had to strain his ears to hear it. "If you will help me, then please help me watch over Hijikata-san as well. He's always been close by my side... it's not unthinkable that..."

"I understand." Satoki replied. He knew what the swordsman wanted. After realizing the danger his vice commander and best friend had knowingly placed himself into all these years, Souji wanted to make sure he had not contracted the disease. If he had, Satoki knew Souji would surely never forgive himself.

Souji turned to look at him fully, eye to eye. "Do you? And will you really consider such a thing? You are placing yourself in risk."

Satoki nodded. "Like I said, sir, the substance doesn't seem to want to consume me. Perhaps it is divine will that I be placed here to meet you, and put this small amount of skill to use. But you must tell him to pass on the torch to me. I don't think he will wish to leave you in my care." Souji smiled, and then broke into a chuckle. Which turned into a delighted giggle. "I'm sure he'll throw a fit!"