Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs
Changes in Friendship
Chapter Six
"Soushi, catch it!"
"Come on Okita! Get it, get it, get it!"
Okita danced around the courtyard, arms up to the sky, trying to gauge where the ball would land. The sun shone into his eyes and he squinted, trying to follow the tiny white orb as it disappeared into the light. When he finally did manage to see it again, it was much further from where he had anticipated and he dove to intercept its connection with the ground.
When the dust settled, he held up his fist victoriously, grinning.
"You're out," Hijikata noted to Harada who had been just shy of touching the bag of wheat they were using as a marker.
He shrugged nonchalantly and stuffed his hands into his pocket, walking off the playing field.
Saitou stood on the side of the game next to Shousha, smoking a cigarette and not having any real intention of joining in.
"What on earth is this ridiculous game?"
"It's called baseball," Shousha told him, demonstrating a series of encouraging hops as Okita once again stood beneath a fly ball. "We learned it from some boys when we were kids. It's American."
"American, huh? If this is what they do for entertainment they can't be all that intelligent."
Shousha ignored his comment and let out a laugh as Kondo struck out.
"Better luck next time, Kondo-sama!"
He turned to her and let out a bashful grin. Truthfully, not many of them were any good at this game. Harada was relatively good at bat, but tended to put a little too much effort forward (Shousha had stopped counting the number of windows she would be fixing). On the rare occasion that Okita managed to hit the ball, he never seemed to actually tag the base, giving the opposing team quite an easy time of doing it for him, live ball in hand. Hijikata made a point of being walked every time and Kondo, well, he was really only playing for the moral support of his men.
Still, as clumsy as everyone was, it was refreshing. The air in the dojo was so stuffy, so serious, that even Hijikata, placid and stoic as he was, felt light. He didn't show it of course, but as he played umpire, he was happy. This is what they were fighting for. Okita's students had been invited to play with them as well and seeing the smiles on the faces of the young men, all varying in age, Hijikata felt hopeful that Kyoto could become like this once again.
It was their duty.
"Saitou-san! Come play!"
Saitou ignored Okita's request and leaned up against the wall.
"Why don't you play?" Shousha asked him. "It's fun."
He looked down at her. She looked so pleased with herself, having suggested they take an hour for something fun. Did she really think to revolutionize the hearts of these men? Did she really believe she could ease the darkness within; erase the things they had seen? The things they had done?
She was too romantic. Her ideology would get someone killed if she kept it up.
"You think you can change us?"
She looked up, feeling of doubt beginning to rise within her. "I. . .I thought it would be nice to forget about everything for a little bit."
"What do you know?" he scoffed, extinguishing his smoke with a trail of ash along the wall.
"I know that laughter is the best medicine," she said quietly.
Saitou looked towards the makeshift playing field. "Medicine is useless against an incurable disease."
"You might be surprised," she offered.
She found herself against the wall then, Saitou's body blocking her escape. His large hands had just missed her head and the dark shadow that came over his face send panic racing through her mind. Surely he wouldn't harm her in front of everybody.
"You stupid girl," he hissed, every muscle in his body tense. It was all he could do to resist slapping her across the face.
"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. And she was. She didn't know what for, but something she said had angered him so much she was sure it was only their public location that was keeping him from giving her the beating of a lifetime.
"You," he said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him directly, "have never taken the life of another."
He let her go then, roughly pushing her to the ground and storming away. Harada noticed this and, after sending Saitou inside with a string of profanities, held out his hand to her.
"You alright missy? He's got a temper, that one."
She didn't answer, but looked towards the house where Saitou had vanished. She wasn't one of them, that much he had made clear. Perhaps she and Soushi had been inseparable as children, but they were adults now. Things were different.
How foolish she had been.
"Shou-chan."
This time it was Okita. He laid a hand on her elbow and encouraged her to turn to him. "What did he say to you? You're as pale as death."
Shousha bit her bottom lip. "Soushi," she whispered.
He tilted his head slightly, bending over to look up at her from her slightly bowed position. "What is it, Shou-chan?"
She took a deep breath before meeting his gaze.
"What is it like to kill someone?"
Okita inhaled sharply and Harada stared in shock. Deciding his presence was best served elsewhere, he silently snuck away. Searching his friend's eyes for some sort of clue, Okita gripped her arm tightly. She winced, noting that his grip was too tight, but he didn't let go. Why would she ask him that?
"That isn't something a lady should have to know." He had meant to sound soothing, to ease her curiosity, but instead, his tone had been biting and callous.
"Please, Ta-chan," she said, covering his hand with her own. He knew she wouldn't back down. Whatever Saitou had said to her had gotten under her skin and she needed to resolve it in her own way. He just wished it hadn't been this.
Hand still on her arm, he whisked her away into the house. They would need privacy. He was unsure of how she would react to his description.
Ushering her into their room, Okita shut the door and dropped her arm as if it were poison. He felt himself growing cold.
"Why," he asked. "why would you ask this of me?"
Shousha saw the hurt in his eyes but she didn't regret her question. Though she never meant to see him in pain, she was glad to see his facade falter. He had always gone to great lengths to be cheery and encouraging for her, that she felt useless to him. She felt like his sidekick, his entertainment, his responsibility.
Showing this side of him made her feel that she might be able to do something for him. Maybe it could be her turn to comfort him. In order for her to be of any use, she needed to know the truth of what he felt. In order to become one of them, a true Shinsengumi woman, she needed to understand.
"I. . ." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts into words.
He loosened, giving her a sad smile. "It's alright," he said, holding out his hand to her. "Let's forget it."
"No!" she cried, taking his hand, but dropping to the ground herself. She had never before put herself in such a submissive position, but she had gone so long without him that she was about to do anything to keep him by her side.
He stood there, above her and his heart ached. He understood what it felt like to be useless, to not be on the same level of the one he loved.
"Please stand up," he pleaded, trying to pull her to her feet, but she wouldn't budge.
"I want to understand, Soushi," she said, tightening her hold on his hand. "I want to bear your burden with you."
And for the first time since he was a child, Okita wanted to cry. He wouldn't; he had more control than that, but it was the first time he had ever been so touched. This girl, this woman wanted to lift his sorrow. She wanted to sacrifice her innocence and naivety for the sake of his emotional well being. And what did he have to offer her?
Nothing.
The killing wouldn't stop. The blood would continue to rain down on him and she wanted to take it with him. All of it. He wouldn't marry her; he couldn't. They would never have children, and though he came from money, so did she. It didn't matter. He had nothing of value to give to her, this savior woman. He had always felt unworthy of her kindness and friendship, but never more than in this moment.
"It is a big burden," he told her, "I can't ask that of you."
"Then don't ask," she replied. "Just let me do it."
Unable to control himself, he fell to his knees, cupping her face in his hands. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.
"I don't deserve this," he ground out, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, "You shouldn't be here with me."
"Please," she begged, tiny hands wrapping around his wrists. She could feel his pulse. It was racing to match her own. "Let me love you."
It was his undoing.
Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he broke down. His hands dropped from her face to her arms where they grasped at fistfuls of silk. In response, she brought herself around him, cradling his shaking shoulders. She had never seen him cry before, but she wasn't afraid. Saitou was right. He had seen and done things that haunted him every day. It was all she could do to be there to help him through it.
"I've been so blind," he sobbed, pressing his face further into the heaven that was her skin, "so blind."
She held him close, stroking his hair, his beautiful black hair that easily matched her own. As he continued to empty himself of years of tears, she let her mind wander back to what she had said.
Let me love you.
She had let the words slip out of her mouth before she could think better of it. It wasn't until that very moment that she knew Tokio had been right. Soushi was and always would be her best friend, but as they grew up and she waited for his return, it wasn't because she wanted to wade in the river with him or chase after fireflies. She was in love with him.
Whether or not he felt the same didn't matter to her. She was madly, wildly, and most certainly dangerously in love. Just being able to be with him was enough. If she could stay by his side, understand his pain, and give him the comfort he had always so graciously given her, she would be happy.
The rhythm of his breakdown was suddenly interrupted by a cough. It was a small cough, but as another came, and his breathing became labored, Okita pushed himself off of her. Shousha jumped, startled, and though he hadn't regained enough composure to stand, he turned away from her, covering his mouth with a sleeve as another wave hit him, this time accompanied by a terrifying wheezing.
"Soushi!" she cried, scrambling to sit more upright that she might be able to help him. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he wheezed, being sure to keep his mouth covered. He could feel the blood soaking into his sleeve, but there was no reason for her to know. This was one burden he refused to have her carry.
"You're sick!" she protested, reaching for his shoulder, but he was faster.
"No, Shousha!" He shoved her away and though he was rapidly losing his strength, she tumbled into a table, knocking over a set of vases. She screamed as they toppled over, just barely missing her as they shattered onto the floor.
He saw her pale, and he saw her start to shake. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He hadn't meant to be so rough, but he couldn't let her know about this. He wouldn't let her see his weakness.
His death sentence.
"I'm sorry," he whispered shakily, laying his head down on the floor to regain some energy. He would have to be more careful about exhausting himself. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head and he smiled in relief.
"T-Ta-chan. . ."
He let out a small laugh. "What, this? It happens more often than you think," he said grimly. "we put our bodies through some awful stress. It's only natural for it to break down and force us to take a rest."
He hoped his vague excuse was enough to pacify her. It seemed to do the trick and when she sat before him and pulled his head into her lap, he closed his eyes.
"It's the worst feeling in the world, taking someone's life," he said quietly after some time, allowing himself to enjoy the role reversal.
Shousha began to trace his features with feather-like delicacy.
"In that moment, when my sword pierces their body, there is no Shinsengumi, there is no Ishinshishi, there are only two men. I feel the life leave his body; it travels through my blade and into my hands. In that moment, I have passed judgement on him. I decided that he deserved to die. I decided to widow his wife and orphan his children. In that moment, I find my own existence repulsive."
Shousha's fingers slowed, but didn't stop. "Then why do you do it?"
He reached for her other hand and, bringing it to his lips, laid a gentle kiss on each of her fingertips. She paused, butterflies erupting in her belly.
"For you," he breathed, "For Japan. Before that moment, it's exhilarating. After that moment I feel success, triumph, and pride. It is just for that one moment in time that I wish I chose a different path. That one moment."
"And this moment?"
He kissed her hand again before bringing it to rest on his heart.
"In this moment, I have no sins."
xxxx
Author's Note: This chapter took a completely different turn than I had originally intended. I found it very challenging to have Okita break down without sacrificing his masculinity and strength as a warrior. I have my fingers crossed that you all approve of my approach.
The baseball scene was inspired by an episode of Samurai Champloo. I didn't actually even intend to put it in, but then my fingers took over.
Stay tuned for more! :