Author's note: I'm baaaack!
Nothing really happened, I just haven't had a lot of quality time to spend with the keyboard and word processor, et. al.
So, sorry for party rocking, and I just can't seem to let go of Serizawa Kamo.
Questions, comments, and concerns quite welcome, if you find the time!
They had chosen him for his ability to keep quiet.
They could have chosen Saitoh, of course, but Sanosuke supposed he was the lucky one because his loyalties were obvious...he'd made clear from day one that he barely gave a rat's ass about Serizawa.
And he kept secrets just as well (except maybe his own, because he didn't have any to speak of).
He knew now, after the fact, that as he watched and waited in the rain, Shinpachi and Saitoh themselves were at each other's throats.
Had he known, he did not trouble himself with wondering what he would have done. That fight had already happened and essentially resolved without his involvement—he trusted the two, as did Kondou and Hijikata, but that was irrelevant at this point.
The night was not quiet; not really.
Tree branches creaked wetly around the house in the pouring rain, water dripping steadily from the eaves. Sanosuke could not hear the others, but knew they must be speaking in the shadows of the surrounding trees; at the gate, two fabulous swordsmen met steel on steel, splashing in the shallow puddles and hissing out sharp breath—damn it, Shinpachi.
Tonight, it seemed that none of the original Shieikan members would look upon the party earlier with any fondness. The Mito side, some of them might not be able to look back at all.
The spear-wielder waited on the veranda, under the dripping roof, careful not to make a sound under his cloak of darkness despite the drop of rainwater that fell perpetually from a leak, soaking the same spot on his white-clad shoulder; he watched the golden lantern-glow from the window, and listened intently.
Too old and...experienced to blush, Sanosuke was not surprised when the Roshigumi's doomed leader made love roughly to his concubine, making no compliments or endearments, but rather biting out sharp commands in his gravelly voice.
It was almost painful to hear.
This moment shared between the two, it would end, and Hijikata would likely order Oume's death as well. Their future would end as soon as Sanosuke gave the signal: Serizawa would die, and harsh as that man was, Oume loved him, that much was clear. She was a beautiful woman, and Sanosuke had heard almost a lifetime of her secret passions and desires in a few minutes hiding in the night, too much.
Oume would die, too.
There was no other way. But she adored the man, violent and unstable as he was.
At the time, Sanosuke was relieved to hear the cries subsiding to labored breath, the exhausted fumbling to extinguish the light.
The Oume could be faceless once again as she slept by her lover's side.
This had to be what Shinpachi meant about his beloved passage of impermanence: a woman that Sanosuke had only known by name and reputation before this night was actually a woman with a personality and human desires; a woman in love.
As soon as things quieted down and the room was completely dark, the red-haired man gave his signal by throwing a small stone, and he was quickly joined by the other three, Hijikata, Souji, and Sannan.
"Kill them as quickly as possible. Do not leave witnesses," Hijikata whispered tersely, tense under the cold mask he had assumed.
He was nervous.
They slipped noiselessly into the house.
Oume did not last the night; Serizawa himself made sure of that.
Even now, a day (an age) later, as he sat up by Shinpachi's side and watched his sleeping face, Sanosuke had little desire to torture himself by trying to make sense of this. What was done, was done. Serizawa and Oume were gone, but despite this, Harada Sanosuke was content to keep his silence once again.