Through Your Eyes
By: Stealiana
"Alright then." Okita's constant smile did not falter as he herded a total of six men out the doorway. Really, it was ridiculous what we had been reduced to - protecting these simpering fools had become almost a regular task. I hated it, but I did not complain, as my objections would fall on deaf ears.
"Saitou-san, I will take the eastern sector, you will take the western." I barely nodded, working to put a polite smile on my face. "Since there are four coming with me, I will take four men. We can spare two more for you."
"Good." I responded, waiting patiently for the moment to depart. Whenever we were forced to interact with other captains or the politicians, I always let Okita do the talking. His cheerful civility was much more efficient in persuading others to do what he asked, unlike the demanding and somewhat condescending tone I habitually used. I suspected it was also for this reason that he split the groups the way he had, leaving me with only a few men, knowing how much I hated these sorts of duties. Sometimes I didn't give him enough credit.
Okita had finished turning over matters to the second and sixth unit commanders who were to remain at the compound. Our men would be at their disposal should they need it, although I was relatively sure it wouldn't be necessary. If the Ishin were out, they were lying in wait for us. I did not mind - even if they tried an ambush, I would know they were there before they had a chance to strike.
I noted with interest that Takagi-san was to be in my small escort group. He seemed rather ill at ease, being around so many swords at once. But then again, all the politicians were like that to a degree. Whenever they were forced to turn their power and control over to someone else, they became fidgety. In a way, it was almost laughable to see their discomfort.
"Let's go." The polite smile did not move off my face as Okita led his group down the corridor to the front. My smaller group followed behind, and I allowed my thoughts to drift for a moment. Once we exited the building, I would need to be thinking of nothing but the enemy, so now was the time to rid myself of that strange uncertainty that had been weighing on me.
When I had dared to pause long enough to scrutinize my activities, I had realized with a growing sense of distrust that as much as I had plotted and planned, I did not like what I was doing. I had known there was only one way to achieve my goal; I would have to marry. My pride and the code I lived by would not allow me to do anything less, and from what I could tell, she would be a good wife. Her need for solitude that night had left a strong impression on me - she was not a woman starved for attention, nor was she timid. My interpretation of her behavior led me to conclude she was the kind of woman that would leave me in peace, while performing her domestic duties efficiently. In truth, I only wanted her for one reason; but after I had quelled my instincts temporarily and thought through the situation, I realized how advantageous the match would be. So why was something bothering me?
The cool night air provided a refreshing relief from the growing stuffiness of my own clouded thoughts. I pushed hesitations out of my mind as I drew in a deep breath, reverting to my favorite activity of hunting down my prey. The bastards would not be able to hide from me.
I led the party of four through the dark Kyoto streets, the two other men walking behind the officials. The scuffs of their feet against the dirt were offensively loud as I silently made my way through the empty city, irritation mounting. How could I hear the enemy when the four behind me were creating such a racket?
Nonetheless, we arrived at the first destination with no mishaps. Now all that remained was Takagi-san.
Oddly, the man insisted that since it was so late, he merely wanted to be left at an inn nearby. I did not press him for further information as I really did not care, but merely informed him that once we left he would be unguarded and was no longer our responsibility. A nod was my only response, so we began to move in the direction he specified. I attributed his reluctance to not wanting to arrive home drunk.
Halfway down the street, I paused, unsheathing my katana. I heard the tiny gasp come from Takagi-san's mouth and I fought to prevent my smile from turning into a frown. A tiny click in a dark alleyway to the left is what had caught my attention. The unmistakable sound of metal hinted there was someone lying patiently in wait, preparing for the moment to strike. Hah. Not if I beat them to it.
Silently, I motioned for the two men to check the darkness. I turned to Takagi-san, the smile twitching ever so slightly; it was hard to keep from grimacing when the man's eyes were glued to my sword and he looked rather pale. Too much sake, no doubt, leaving him in possession of only a few faculties.
"Please stay here, Takagi-san." I turned away from him, searching the street hungrily. "If you stay in one place, I will always know your location, and thus be able to protect you." Somehow, I didn't think he could move if he wanted to, once fear took root. But different men responded in different ways, and I always thought it best to provide a verbal warning. "Do not worry, Takagi-san." My voice was smooth and confident, my best attempt to put him at ease. "This is child's play."
A small shuffle on the rooftop behind me pricked my senses, and I heard the rush of air. So, they were going to come from above, was that it? Too simple, too slow, too easy!
With minimal effort I spun about to knock the flying projectile to the ground as Takagi ducked in terror, his hands grasping his balding head.
"Move up against that door." I instructed calmly. "Then they cannot get you from above." There was a grunt, and I sidestepped a swing from behind, the fear that had reflected from the mute politician's eyes providing more than enough warning of the attack. The scurrying behind me informed me that Takagi was taking my advice, so I set myself between him and the newest attacker, who was steadying himself for another bout.
My knees instinctively bent and I held my katana out at my side. Although the man's face was covered in the dark, I could tell by his breathing he was already pissed, and that brought a maniacal smile to my lips. I already had him in my clutches, but I hadn't even started.
"Go." The single word set the man off, and he charged with an unmasked fury. But he was too slow - he missed completely and my Gatotsu skewered his ribs, a fatal wound. I had a bit of trouble getting him back off my sword as his broken bones unfortunately impeded the process of discarding him. Initially, I had been aiming a bit lower so as to avoid the cage of bones entirely, but the bastard had to interfere. Not that it mattered. My katana returned to its unblemished state of cleanliness with a swift flick of the wrist.
I heard a shout from the two men I had sent into the alleyway, the stinging clangs of metal against metal echoing in the deserted streets. There was still the matter of whoever had been on the rooftop, and by now, I would estimate that he was-
A quick step backward kept the bastard from landing on my back as he had planned. To my surprise, he quickly regained his feet despite having missed his target. Well, it was a wasted effort. My katana lifted almost of its own accord, and briskly swung through the man's neck with no hesitation. When it hit his spine, the weapon recoiled and drew itself back out rapidly. He crumpled into a heap, choked coughs from the dying man drowned out by the footsteps of my two men as they returned, spatters of blood adorning their uniforms. Another flick, and then the katana was slid carefully into its sheath.
"The enemy has been dispatched, sir."
"Good." For a moment I paused, returning my polite smile to my lips before turning to Takagi, his eyes wide with a combination of fear and admiration. I would not have to remind him that I had effortlessly accomplished. "We are finished here." A jerked nod from the man indicated it was time to continue, so I went on with the official, my subordinates remaining to clean up the scene. The inn itself was merely paces away, and I stood at the door while Takagi hesitated.
"T-hank you." He said rather slowly, having a bit of trouble articulating. His mouth opened as if to speak again, but I broke the silence before he had a chance.
"This is what I have been trained to do." I objected quietly. "That is all." Without waiting for another word, I turned my back to return to my men. As I walked, I waited until I heard him open the door and shuffle inside before I let the smile slip off my lips.
Everything was happening rather rapidly - parts of my original plan were being rendered useless by the ever-changing situation that accompanied my job, but it was nothing I could not adapt to. Sooner or later, I had expected to Takagi's eyes to be opened to what the older man had been saying to him. Fortunately, I had been the one to display our power, and someone with apparent political weight had been the one to make a suggestion. Perhaps now he would not be so reluctant to marry her to someone on the outside of the government circle. I would have to wait, but so far, things were proceeding well.
Okita scrutinized me skeptically, the glazed look in his eyes verifying that the alcohol had begun to grab hold of him. Tonight, in his inebriated state, he was providing entertainment during my victory celebration, which consisted of us sitting quietly in a corner drinking. The sake tasted good, and I was ensuring I received my fill, as the boy across from me had already done. It struck me as odd that the boy had insisted we celebrate, and then he downed his drink without even appreciating it, intoxicating himself as quickly as he could. Perhaps he did not think I saw this, but little escapes me. His eyes were desperate, and now they were critical as they stared at me unabashedly.
"What." I finally asked. When drunk, he did not speak at random like usual, but instead waited for me to question him; occasionally I indulged him.
"How do you do it?" His eyes averted to his empty cup - I refused to let him have any more, as I did not want him getting sick. The proprietor of the establishment had enough troubles tonight as it was with several rather loud men near the front.
"I do many things, but I don't read minds." I finished what remained in mine. "You need to be more specific if you really want an answer."
"How do you ignore death?" My lips pursed, the only sign of my surprise as the rest of my face remained blank.
"You've had too much, Okita." I brushed away his question, deeming it a rather ridiculous inquiry.
"No! I want to know what your secret is!" He leaned forward, elbows on the table propping up his chin as he resumed his unfaltering gaze at my face. "How can you look away when death is staring you in the face every day?"
"You are making less sense than usual." A smirk graced my lips as I poured myself another drink.
"Why won't you answer me?" His voice became frenetic as his fists weakly pounded the table. "I'm just asking a damn question! Can't you stop being a fucking bastard long enough to tell me?"
The grin that I wore disappeared in the wake of his apparent anger; I was mildly surprised at his harshness, so unlike the boy that trailed me constantly. But I did not change my expression and remained silent.
"Be-because you are. Just a fucking bastard!" Okita's face was flushed, with a barely restrained rage and confusion as he stared down at his fists clenched tightly in front of him on the table.
"Think what you will." I slipped my hand into my uniform jacket, hunting for my cigarettes. It had been awhile since I indulged, and the situation just seemed to call for one. I carefully lit the match and cradled it in my hand until I let out the first puff of smoke. With a vindictive smile, I dropped the flickering match into the sake bottle, watching the thin line of gray curl towards the ceiling.
"Don't you ever doubt yourself?" His eyes met mine and I found myself unable to tear my gaze away. "How is it you always have the solutions?" A thud came from the table as his fist pounded against wood again, before he slumped into the cradle of his arms. His voice cracked; I could hear every quiver despite the muffling of his lips against the table. "Why can't I see everything so clearly?"
No words surfaced in my mind that seemed to be an appropriate response. I had nothing to say to him - rather, I recognized I was no good at this sort of thing. Emotional outbursts and internal angst were facets of life I tried to avoid entirely, and so I had no expertise in handling them effectively. They always complicated things more than necessary, and became a burden that clouded one's vision. Now, I was being confronted by a wave of inexplicable sadness and desperation that I could not find a way around.
"Okita." My voice was authoritatively quiet. "I think it is time to go."
"No. Not until I can live the same way!"
"Okita…" He ignored my warning tone, picking up his head and continuing rapidly in a hoarse whisper.
"I want to be an unfeeling bastard, just like you! I want to forget what it means to hurt, forget my weakness! I don't want to fucking waste away!"
"…You are not exactly what I would classify as weak." I drew my cigarette from my lips to tap the ash off the end. My eyes darted to the boy as he burst into laughter, although I found nothing humorous in our discussion, before breaking down into a series of choked coughs, his fingers clawing at his chest with each shudder. A hand instinctively went to cover his mouth, and his face turned deathly pale. But when his spasms ceased, he wiped his lip and shakily smiled at me.
"Do you see this blood?" He didn't have to ask; I had already smelled it the moment the fit began and I was unable to keep the scowl off my face. His ravings began to seem almost logical. "Every day it's a little more than before…" He pulled out a cloth and wiped his hand clean, the red stains viciously seeping into the white. All his anger seemed to have disappeared with the coughs, and now his voice was a dead calm, quiet and pensive.
"When you first came I thought… I thought you were an ass. You talked to no one, didn't even make an attempt to become one of us. But as I watched, I realized that you're just… different from everyone else. You aren't afraid of anything. Not even death."
"Is that what you think." I looked at my cigarette to avoid his gaze, watching the ash crumble off the end, my voice carrying nothing but indifference. Inside, I felt slightly discomfited and self-conscious at having been observed so accurately - this was the second time he had read me easily, and I prided myself on making things difficult. But if I was failing at this…
His general observations were valid. I feared nothing and I had complete confidence in my strengths and flaws, wasting none of my time on others and in return being left in solitude to watch the world move on without me. It sounded exceedingly depressing the way he said it, but that was not how I thought of it. Actually, I did not think of it at all, I simply lived the only way I knew how. Too much introspection led to doubt of one's capabilities, and that led to weakness, very dangerous when my very life depended on how much I trusted myself.
"Yea. That is what I think. As usual, you don't give a fuck." He stood suddenly, surprising himself with the abrupt change in elevation, trying to get his bearings in his confusion. Lurching forward, he made his way to the door and left without turning back.
I stubbed out my cigarette in my empty cup, as there was nowhere else to put it. Well, shit. I should have known better than to initially brush him off. How careless of me. His drive, his talent, the mental discipline he showed by never being rude or arrogant despite his obvious superiority - it all stemmed from his dark secret.
He was dying.
The mere thought was enough to jar even my stable emotional state. I could not pretend to know what it was like to walk through life knowing that with every breath, you were fading a little more. It is one matter to die by a sword, and quite another to go through sickness. No warrior, particularly one with such potential, should ever face such circumstances. But a cruel twist of fate had made it so, but nonetheless the kid was persevering. Hell, he was persistent. At least now, it was excusable - and even admirable.
I stood, retrieving my katana from where it lay by my side in the process. Sake would have no more taste for me tonight, I knew, so retiring would be best. Silently, I left the money at the table and walked out, trying to clear the unsettling confusion that had taken root.
Pity is something I try to avoid, as it conflicts with objectivity, competes with reason. I thought I had it under my control, stifled by my calculating animal instinct. Yet it wormed its way into the back of my mind, leading to an involuntary shake of my head. A sigh accompanied a leisurely glance upward into the night before my feet took me towards home.
Well, Okita, I thought darkly. So much for having rid myself of inner doubt. Little bastard…
