There you stand, soaked in blood. The spitting image of a demon. After failing to protect your comrades, you chose the path of carnage. But your monstrous hands… In time, they will even take those you hold dear, and crush them to oblivion. That is the price a demon pays. Devouring both beloved and hated, you will be left to howl in solitude, alone in this world, Shiroyasha.

The Shinsengumi decided to join forces with the Joui after it became increasingly clear to all members that the Bakufu was no longer deserving of their loyalty. People were dying of sickness and starvation in the streets, while the lingering Bakufu officials stored stockpiles of rice and grain in warehouses, remaining otherwise quarantined behind their walls and barricades, and only sending out men to collect taxes from people who couldn't afford to feed their families or even bury their dead. Since the Shinsengumi felt they had a duty to protect the people, not drive them further into the dirt, they cast away their uniforms, their salaries, and their home, all so they could continue to wield their swords for the sake of the citizens and for their own souls.

It was Hijikata who'd said when they officially abandoned the Bakufu, "Living without protecting what we need to protect is the same as death. There's a samurai I know, a real piece of work, who told me that he had an organ in him that was even more important than his heart. His soul. And if we become nothing more than Bakufu stooges, if we watch Edo crumble and do nothing, then our souls will break. If leaving the Bakufu and joining the Joui is what we have to do to protect our souls, to keep standing tall, then I say we do it! We'll follow Kondo-san into Hell with our souls intact and bring as many heartless bastards as we can down with us!"

There were even rumors that the Shogun himself had forsaken the government and absconded with the Oniwabanshu, to which Katsura could only scoff. Honestly, the Shogun running off with ninjas? People would believe anything these days.

Today, they were celebrating the alliance by eating and drinking sake together. The dwelling the two factions had acquisitioned had once belonged to the family of a Bakufu official who had been one of the first to use his wealth to vacate the planet. As that was the case, looters had picked most of its furniture and goods, but since only the space was needed, it was a perfect fit. They'd found two long tables and transformed the living room into meeting room, a dining room, and, on days like today, a room for celebrations, filled with flowers, streamers, and a sign that read, "Joui to the Shinsengumi". For whatever reason, Katsura, the Joui leader, had departed from the merrymaking early, moving to the porch for some solace.

It was raining. He'd known it was before from the sound of raindrops falling like bullets on the roof, but it was one thing to know and another to see. Droplets hit the ground below him, shot desperately towards the sky, and then melded into the shadowy river that raged on the streets.

Back when he was a still a child, he would love playing in the rain. After practicing for an hour in Shouyou-sensei's dojo, there was nothing better than its cooling touch, but Gintoki and Takasugi never wanted to play. He'd realized how to get around this, of course. If he splashed Gintoki in the face with a puddle, he'd threaten to kill him…

Pausing momentarily in his recollection, Katsura allowed himself a dark chuckle. If there was one thing that never changed about his friend, it was that he occasionally threatened to kill him. He also never stopped having his back. A crazy, violent, undyingly loyal friend like that was worth a few bruises.

Anyway, Gintoki would chase him around in retaliation, getting soaking wet in the process, then Takasugi would laugh at them from sensei's side, and Gin would use that ungodly speed of his to plant a foot on the back of Takasugi's head, launching him into the rain and sometimes sending him skidding, face first, across the mud.

It was those days that Katsura liked to think about when it rained. Unfortunately, memories of tears, blood, and a failure that haunted all of Shouyou-sensei's surviving students tended to paint themselves over that memory and all the others like it.

In his mind's eye, he could still see the bloodstained blanket.

"What are you doing out here?"

Startled, Katsura spun around, nearly drawing his katana. When he saw it was only the Demon Vice Commander, he calmed himself and forced his eyes forward, staring calmly into the rain like he hadn't been panicking mere seconds beforehand, "I'm thinking, obviously."

Hijikata frowned, his hands already pulling out his packet of cigarettes, and replied, "You say 'obviously' but from the look of you, I'd say your head was empty." He leaned against the same railing Katsura was leaning on, stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and took a long drag. Instead of saying anything else, he slowly exhaled, and observed the smoke curling towards the roof over their heads. The cool sensation of rain on the back of his head and the heat in his stomach from the few cups of sake he'd had meant he didn't mind waiting for an answer.

Katsura gave him a sour look, "I was thinking about the past."

"That's a dangerous thing to think about," Hijikata replied, not looking at the man next to him. In his experience, this sort of thing was easier when you could pretend the person next to you wasn't listening while also knowing they were. "Were you thinking about Yorozuya? That bastard's still alive, you know." Lightning struck the sky, followed by thunder so fierce it shook the building. Some shouts could be heard from inside when the lights flickered. "Tch, we sure chose a shitty day to have a party."

The man next to him, his white haori growing wet from being so close to the storm, shifted away from the rain so he could also lean with his back against the railing. He tilted his head back, letting the rain could fall on his forehead and cool his thoughts a little. "I've never believed him dead. I don't know what that man is doing, but there's no doubt in my mind he's still breathing." He spared a sideways smirk for his companion, "We Joui are very hard to kill."

Hijikata blew out another cloud of smoke and grinned, his eyes gleaming in the dark, "Oooh, cocky, aren't we?"

"Not cocky." There was a pregnant pause, as though he were choosing his next words with extreme care. Hijikata leaned forward a little so nothing would be lost over the roar of the storm, "I'm Katsura."

Bristling, the Vice Chief choked out, "Why, you- you- you wannabe terrorist! I thought you were going to say something serious!"

"I'm seriously Katsura."

Whipping out his sword, he preceded to try and slice and dice his former enemy into little manageable pieces, but the samurai just laughed him off, dodging easily while never moving from the porch. It was when Katsura leapt on top of the railing, moving like a cat to dodge a strike, that he noticed a glowing red dot, glimmering like crystalized blood on the roof of a building across the road. Even with the sheets of rain impairing his vision, he could see what looked like a dark, man-shaped shadow. It was just then that Hijikata accidentally landed a hit.

Blood spurted from the wound as Katsura scrabbled to regain his balance, "I can't believe you actually hit me!"

"I thought you were going to dodge it!" Hijikata shouted around the cigarette between his lips.

Rubbing his head gingerly, Katsura let loose a growl of frustration and leapt down from his perch, muttering as he pushed past Hijikata and began to run back inside, "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

No one just lets things go like that. Forgiveness was something that came after payback. Years associating with Okita Sougo had engraved this lesson on the Vice Commander's heart. As far as he knew, when someone who would usually snap back at a perceived insult decides to just ignore it, they were raising a death flag. Sure, Sougo would snipe and try to kill him until he had both feet in the grave, but that was Sougo. To call him human would be to stretch the meaning of the word to its breaking point.

"Oi, Kondo-san, I feel like there's a Hijikata-wannabe insulting me in his monologue."

He whirled around the corner, Western-style long coat banging against his knees, and retorted as he ran through the room, once again taking in the wakizashi (short sword) and katana tied to Sougo's red hakama, along with his new hairdo, "I don't want to hear that from you, Kenshin-copycat."

"Please, Kenshin copied this look from me."

"Don't insult Kenshin!"

The end of the living room was in sight; he was nearly to the paper doors. And just as he was beginning to think he could follow Katsura into the rain – the long haired weirdo was surprisingly fast when he wanted to be – a large, white palm grabbed his elbow and nearly pulled his arm from his socket. There was only one monster in the Joui who could stop him and full sprint.

Elizabeth inquired politely, "Hijikata-san, won't you have a celebratory toast with Kondo-san and I?" As he said this, the hand he had on Hijikata's elbow tightened, his other hand quite noticeably wrapped around the handle of his spiked club. And was that… blood encrusted on the tips?

"…S-sure."

After crashing through the door, Katsura found himself ankle-deep in the rushing run-off. It soaked through his yukata and chilled his feet, drawing an involuntary gasp from his lips. It was like icy fingers had wrapped around his heart, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins quickly fought off the fingers and warmed him. Ten feet down the road; he saw the same glowing eye that had been on the rooftop seconds ago. There was no mistake; he knew the monk-like robes, the necklace of seals, the tall, golden staff, the hat woven from strips of bamboo, and the face swathed in marked bandages. He knew that glowing eye.

"Enmi." He spat, readying his katana. "Where is Gintoki?"

It all made sense now. Nanomachines. Gintoki had everything figured out before it happened. He must have known what this Amanto had planned and set out to stop him. The fact that the plague had spread regardless of his efforts didn't bode well for his friend, but Katsura knew he wasn't dead. Not even Hell would be so cruel as to take one of the few precious weights he had left away from him and not even the Devil himself was strong enough to take the Shiroyasha's soul.

Instead of answering him, the Enmi flew forward, the speed of its passage splitting the flowing water into a high wake. The ground could even be seen for a few seconds before the two waves collapsed again.

After taking the first blow, Katsura disengaged and tried to move farther from the Joui headquarters. He couldn't fight with the door at his back and he didn't want to worry about bystanders. If he was right, and he was, this was the Enmi who spread the White Plague, a disease it had also inflicted on many of his comrades during the Joui War. Fighting it meant risking infection and it was preferable that only one man take that risk. He couldn't lose anymore comrades.

It was difficult to maintain his balance with the wet dirt sucking at his sandals, but he managed to launch himself at his opponent, blade aching for blood. The staff blocked his blow, but the scrape was enough to generate sparks, illuminating their faces. In the dim light provided by the sparks and another flash of lightning, Katsura looked nightmarish. His narrowed eyes shone with a glimmer of madness. His lips pulled back in a snarl, baring all his teeth.

A dull, half-lidded human eye stared back at him. Something about it struck him as odd – he'd been sure the Enmi were mechanical – but he tucked the thought into the back of his mind. There was no place for doubts in a sword fight. He could think about it after the Enmi had told him where Gin was, and even then, only after the Enmi was dead.

Both of the combatants leapt back several feet. The soaked clothes on their backs weighed them down, but only the long haired samurai was having trouble keeping his hair out of his face. Impatiently, he flicked it away from his eyes and briefly considered simply cutting it off.

Something in his opponent's body shifted, from bottled tension to swirling confusion. Sensing the brief moment of hesitation, Katsura rocketed forward, leapt into the air, and raised his katana for a killing strike. It was risky, since he still needed information, but he was counting on the Enmi making some attempt to defend itself. When it did, however, he wasn't ready for it.

The staff smashed into his ribcage, forcing the air from his lungs and sending him crashing to the ground. Precious seconds passed where the only thing he could do was wheeze, forcing air back into him, but the murky water entered his mouth, triggering a bone shaking coughing fit, which hurt the ribs he had undoubtedly broken. A shiver passed through him as he fought to stand again, using the hilt of his sword as a crutch. For some reason he couldn't fathom, the Enmi hadn't attacked him while he was vulnerable. It had merely stared, as silent as ever.

Charging again, Katsura screamed, his face contorted with pain, "I asked you where Gintoki was!"

Again, his sword was met.

"Why did he follow you?!"

They disengaged and reengaged, faster and faster until rain could no longer touch where they fought, and the growing suspicion in the Joui leader's heart, the one that whispered that he knew this fighting style, had faced it many times before, grew increasingly difficult to ignore. The darkened sky lit up around them,

"Why did he go alone?"

-and Katsura's anguished face could be seen in the night as he screamed,

"Why did he leave me behind?!"

In the heat of the battle, he hadn't noticed how slippery his grasp on his weapon was becoming until the katana slid from his grasp. If it had simply fallen in front of him, he would have made a grab for it, but it arced behind him, and the staff was already coming down.

Katsura grinned, defiance making sharp his every feature. This was why he hated rain.

"Katsura!"

White-hot pain flashed down the left side of his face just as he felt two arms pulling him away from the blow. They slammed against the earth together, and for one bright second, he thought that the one who'd saved him was Gintoki. It must have been the blood rushing to his head, though, because when he twisted, all he saw was a drenched man with black hair, and besides, Gintoki always called him-

"Z…zura?"

no.

That voice. It was struggling, flittering, weak, and he'd still know it anywhere.

"Gintoki?" Katsura tried, his hand stemming the blood that now streamed from his now wrecked left eye. "Is this a prank?" His voice sounded choked because he knew… "Did you think I was going to dodge?" He knew this wasn't a prank.

The Vice Commander squirmed out from under Katsura, his eyes held warily on the threat that had, admittedly, sounded like Yorozuya, but that could be a trap. Or a trick. God, he hoped it was a trick.

Slowly, they watched the staff lower, and the human, red eye, the familiar fighting style, could no longer be ignored. That eye belonged to Gintoki.

When he spoke again, he sounded like he was swimming against the tide, like there was something choking him and every word cost him more energy than he could afford to spend, "…your…eye…did…i…do-"

Katsura leapt to his feet, "No!" Looking to Hijikata to agree with him, he continued, "Forget what I said before. I got this from sticking my head in a fan. This wasn't your fault, Gintoki."

Gintoki shook his head, "…li..ar…"

Hijikata didn't have a clue what was going on, but he knew Gintoki- if that was who this really was - had a better idea of what was going on than any of them, and, loathe as he was to admit, the guy obviously needed help and he did want to help him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd hear the silver haired samurai sound so defeated. That alone almost made him want to call the man out as some imposter. However, when he thought about how Gintoki hadn't recognized Katsura until a few seconds ago and was clearly struggling just to speak now, it made sense to think that he didn't have full control over his mind or body. Something like that could break a strong spirit like him, especially if whatever had its clutches in him forced him to hurt a person he wanted to protect, like a friend.

Or a certain Joui comrade.

Against his better judgment, he took a step forward, "Listen, Yorozuya, that weird monk look doesn't suit you. That dirty, beat up bokuto of yours suits you just fine, though. So-"

He tried to take another step and got cut off when the man leapt backwards, splashing water on all sides as he screamed, "Don't come near me!" Gintoki tilted his head towards the sky, and his voice, already strained, broke into an anguished scream that tore through the bandages, giving his mouth the appearance of a gaping maw. The scream rose in volume until it was a howl that rent the air in two. The tortured cry of a man, a demon, and the machine that tried to destroy them all.

The two samurai simultaneously made to pursue him, subdue him if they had to, but the man in the Amanto's clothes leapt, still shrieking, into the raging sky and faded from sight. A ball, hard and metallic, rolled towards them through the rain, blinded them for an instant, and robbed them of the knowledge they'd just gained.

Looking around dazedly, Hijikata fixed his eyes on Katsura's wound. "You're wounded!" A quick scan of the perimeter told him that whatever had attacked them and likely erased their memories had left, though they couldn't be sure it wasn't coming back. "Come inside, I'll bandage your eye for you."

Blood continued to weep through Katsura's fingers as he thought hard about something important he felt he'd forgotten, something his soul begged him to remember but ,in the end, he couldn't. He'd lost his eye for a reason he couldn't remember and that was the same as losing it for nothing.

He felt warmth run down his arm and decided he was tired of waiting for his comrade to return. Gintoki always stopped him when he started making trouble, right? Then, all he had to do was make trouble. Trying to burn what was left of the corrupt Bakufu to ashes should be enough.

A shiver passed through the Demon Vice Commander as he watched the Joui leader bare his teeth at the sky and cackle. Lightning streaked through the sky, reflecting off the crimson that coated his body and the light in his eye, giving him a semblance very close to a demon.

"Stop cackling so I can bandage your wound or I'll knock you out and dress it while you're unconscious."

"Okay, I'm coming." After a short pause, Katsura added, "Hey, do you know where I can find a Colonel Sanders?"