The next night was not nearly as enjoyable as the first. Jaden was awoken before sunset by Hijikata, who thrust a list of things to do into her face as the sun shone annoyingly through the window of his room.
"Here," he snarled, waggling the paper around until she grudgingly and sleepily grabbed hold of it. "You got off easy last night, but starting now you're gonna be working your ass off. Shadow the First Unit on patrol when they leave, then start on that list."
"I don't have a uniform," she reminded him testily, sitting up in the large closet and rubbing at her eyes. "And they won't be leaving for a while."
"The extra time is so that you can be fitted for a uniform," he sighed, as if this were very obvious. He stalked away from her, opening the shoji and leaning in the doorway. "And until you get it, just shadow them. Make sure you look like a man, as well."
"I've done it before, so don't worry," Jaden scowled, squinting though the orange glow of the sunset. "And do you mind closing the door? The sun is fucking annoying. I'm turning red."
Hijikata didn't reply, but also made no move to close the shoji. Jaden scowled, pulled her closet door shut, and started changing in the darkness, pulling on a pair of crisp white hakama over an ugly brown gi and sliding her new sword halfway into her belt. As she touched at it, she felt a little sick. For a gift from a man she hated, she sure had jumped at it pretty quickly. She was starting to feel the way she should have felt that night Tetsu presented the sword to her, only a little too late.
She opened the closet and jumped out, landing nimbly on the small desk-table in the center of the room, making a mess of the paperwork and ink that had once been stacked neatly there. In fact, she stepped in the ink, which cheered her up immensely.
Hijikata turned and saw her, giving her a fuming look as he noticed her feet. He shook his head warningly, but her grin only widened. "Do it, Takoda, and I'll chop your pretty hair off," he warned, moving his hand to his katana and stepping closer.
"W-what the hell?"
"It won't go up in a normal topknot at that length," he said, eyeing her locks with a hungry gleam in his blue eyes. "We're going to have to cut it off at some point, but right now the question is..." A smirk. "Do you want one of the ladies from the kitchen to delicately trim your locks, or do you want me to saw it off with a rusty sword?"
"I can't help but wonder if you could catch me."
He moved back to the center of the doorway, watching her movements carefully and crushing most of her hopes of getting away. She stared back angrily, crouched down low as if still thinking about attempting it. Luckily for the pair, Yamanami was walking past, and poked his head in the door with interest.
"Please don't," he said tiredly when he saw Jaden. "Just don't."
At his request, Jaden frowned grudgingly and wiped her feet with the sleeve of her gi, stepping down from the desk sulkily and heading for the doorway. When she passed Hijikata, she grasped her long ponytail tightly and faced towards him so there was no way he could quickly lob it off anyway. "Sannan-san," she implored. "Does it really have to be cut?"
"I'm sorry, Jaden-san."
"But it's only been cut once before in my entire life. And it was Roden's doing...damn him."
"It's too long. End of story."
"Bastard."
"Come on now, you guys."
Looks all around. Yamanami was giving Jaden a stern look, Jaden was giving Hijikata a triumphant look, and Hijikata was alternating glaring at both of them.
"Well then!" A smile from Yamanami, but no one else. "I'm glad we decided to wait until tomorrow for that."
"What?" An incredulous look from the other two, who glared at each other again once registering that they had spoken in unison.
"Jaden-san, you've got your list of chores?"
She nodded grudgingly and pulled out the list. "Shadowing the First Unit, and then...dishes, laundry, cleaning the dojo, cleaning the...outhouse...dispose of Toshizou's love letters..." she read off, her disgust getting thicker in her voice with every chore. "I still can't understand why any woman would write a love letter to you, Toshizou. My darling Hoshijiro, on the other hand--"
Hijikata pointed outside impatiently, cutting her off. "Just go get fitted for your uniform. I don't want to listen to your irritating voice tonight."
She sighed overdramatically but didn't keep the argument going, grudgingly letting him win that round. Yamanami motioned for her to follow him, looking relieved, and the two of them wandered wordlessly to the kitchens. There, a small woman measured Jaden quickly, then moved onto other things, pushing her out the door with a small plate of rice when they were done.
"They're in a hurry to clean up and get to bed," Yamanami explained apologetically when Jaden realized that she hadn't been given any chopsticks. "They've got to get up early to make everyone breakfast."
"Yeah, I get it. I'll eat with my hands."
"You sound so understanding..." he said sarcastically, pushing his glasses up and sighing. "And I wish you could go two minutes without getting into a verbal sparring match with Toshizou-kun."
"He instigates."
"You instigate as well."
To his surprise, she laughed and started walking away. He followed closely after her, as if afraid of the troubles she would get into if left to her own devices. "What?" he asked worriedly.
"You're such a good guy, Sannan-san," she replied, stressing the words and still smiling. "Sometimes it's funny. Now, where am I going? Oh, I guess I should put my hair up." She started walking away again.
"And the other times?"
"What?" She stopped again, but didn't face him, instead pulling at her hair and throwing it into a sloppy ponytail.
"You said, 'sometimes it's funny.' What about the other times?"
Jaden lied and threw on a fake smile, saying, "Oh, I don't know. It's just funny all the time, I mean." It just sounded so much better than, "The other times, it worries me."
A forced smile from him as well. "Okay, then. Well, it sounds like the first unit is getting ready to go, so go tell Souji what you're going to be up to."
She nodded and began shoveling rice into her mouth, waving goodbye to him as she followed the sounds out to the courtyard by the front gates.
--
Roden had spent the daytime hours at the Outa's house after all, finding that when he went to leave the night before that the sun was already up in the sky. Itaru set Roden up in a room directly across from his own that was nearly identical, but without the trinkets and the other personal touches. It was clearly a guest room, but not old or dusty enough to have been there forever. Everything in it was new, still unused. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had once been Imari's room, but had been ripped apart and redone shortly after she'd run away. Half of him wanted to ask, but he was smarter and more polite than that, and didn't say anything as Itaru backed out of the room. He could hardly believe that the kid had stayed up with him all night long, and was now going to sleep while the sun was out, but didn't dwell on it. The bed was so luxuriously comfortable that he fell asleep quickly and worry-free.
The following night, he woke to Beethoven, being played by piano somewhere in the mansion. He sat up in the bed and looked around stupidly for the source of the sound, not realizing until a few long seconds later that it wasn't near—It was his vampire senses at work. Probably a floor up, to the right somewhere. Listening closely, it was perfectly executed, every note down, though he couldn't remember the name of the song. Wondering curiously whether Itaru played piano on top of his political expertise, Roden stood up and followed the sound to the third floor, still in the clothes from the night before. The amethyst and ruby sunset outside gave the halls a deep and eerie glow at every window, but were otherwise still dark.
He found the room with ease, but lingered outside the doors until the song was finished. They were white and ornate, roses carved into the wood at the corners, and the unfamiliar calm ki coming from inside the room was certainly not Itaru's or Daisuke's. The song started again and he pushed the doors open.
The blonde kunoichi—Sara—was sitting at an ornate and rose-lined grand piano, music in front of her, long blonde hair back in a braid. There was a large canopy bed in a corner of the surprisingly small room, covered in magenta and pink, and a glass full of lilies on the bedside table. Other than that, there was only a dark oak dresser and a chest, opened. She stopped playing and turned to see who had come in the door, giving Roden a reproachful look, then turning back to her music.
"I heard you were coming, boy. I hoped to avoid you."
"What's your problem?" He couldn't stop himself from asking. Itaru was nowhere near, so being polite seemed like a stupid thing to do.
She turned around to face him again, and for the first time, he noticed her outfit. It was an ornate Western dress that looked like it was straight from Gothic-era London—a revealing black corset top with lacy sleeves and a billowing, long skirt. "Why are you even up here? Itaru was making breakfast downstairs, so—"
"I thought you were Dutch," he said, pointing to the dress. "So what is that?"
"I'm a fashion-lover, for your information," she told him bitterly, crossing her arms and pushing her stool away from the piano. "I appreciate all stylish things, no matter where they're from. And I'm only half-Dutch, stupid boy."
"How was I supposed to know that?"
She gave him a hard stare, moving her long bangs away from her right eye and examining quietly. Finally, she said. "Sara Mann. That's my full name. And you are...?"
"What's with the sudden politeness?" She continued staring, so he gave in. "Takoda Roden. What was the song you were playing?"
"Fur Elise. Beethoven. I'm a fan. You know, your master once said to me that Beethoven's music is unimpressive and boring, but I somehow I doubt that she's ever heard it." She had looked away from him, but now glanced back quickly and furtively, smiling now.
Roden knew that she was trying to start a fight, and pretended to be uninterested. "Maybe. Maybe not. I can't remember. I'm a fan, too, though I can't play."
Sara Mann frowned. "How old are the two of you?" she asked suspiciously.
"I'm too old to be called 'boy,' at the very least. As for Jaden, well... That's a little rude to ask, don't you think?"
"I don't really care, boy," she replied infuriatingly, not quite smiling, but dangerously close. "Okay. You can guess my age, and if you're wrong, you tell me both your real ages."
"That's stupid."
"Oh come on. It'll be fun."
He looked her over. Perfect pale skin, bouncy curves...the only things hinting that she might be over twenty-five was the split ends and frizzy touch to her golden hair and the knowingly tired look in her brown eyes. "Twenty-seven," he guessed, watching her face carefully.
The widening of her smile told him that he was wrong before she could. "Twenty-nine," she said happily. "Now tell me your age."
"Ninety-eight."
Her face grew confused, then dark. She turned flippantly away from him and scooped up her sheet music. "Liar," she accused, standing up and taking the music to the chest near the dresser. "You should go change before breakfast. The inhabitants here won't appreciate that you're wearing the same thing you wore yesterday."
"I don't have any other clothes with me. And what, were you spying on me?"
"I'm a kunoichi, as you know," she said, pulling her hair out of its braid. "Spying and stabbing are what I do best, so consider yourself lucky it was the former I was doing."
He frowned and slunk out of the room, finding the staircase and silently sweeping downstairs, where smells of various fruits mixed together sweetly. Reaching the kitchen, he pushed open the doors and found Itaru running between slicing strawberries and cooking something that looked like an attempt at pancakes, but far too thin. The stove was Japanese styled, and he had to bend down to blow on the fire and keep it going, while a the pancake-things sizzled away on a thin Western pan hanging over it. It seemed crude but effective.
"Morning, Roden." He was wearing a creme-colored dress shirt and slacks this time, and frowned when he saw Roden. "Oh, you don't have clothes, do you?"
"Does it matter? I can run back to the Gardens later tonight and pack some stuff up."
"Oh, sure. But we'll be dining with Sara before she goes to work tonight, and she'll probably comment on—"
"I already met her this morning. And she said 'the inhabitants of this house won't appreciate' that I haven't changed. Or something like that."
"By 'the inhabitants of this house,' she means herself," he said apologetically, slicing the already tiny strawberries into even smaller pieces. "She's a person who changes her clothes at least twice a night due to her job, so..."
"Ah, Itaru, do you want me to help?"
"They're almost done. Don't worry about it."
"I'm sorry I kept you awake last night and you had to sleep during the day," Roden said. "I guess people like you probably like to be out in the sun."
He realized too late that he had implied there was something different about him, and Itaru gave him a curious but unworried look. Then he looked back at the pancakes, distracted, and pulled the pan away from the fire. "No, don't worry. Business meetings are usually at night as it is, and that's when I can see Rai, and also when Sara is up... Sara can't be trusted to cook for herself, you see. And I already normally sleep late into the day and stay up late at night, so don't worry about it. I can sleep more when you go to get your clothes and catch some sun tomorrow." He put the pancakes on plates laid out on a counter, looking defeated. "These are so thin..."
"Why not just make crepes?" At Itaru's confused expression, he sighed and started putting the strawberry slices on top of the cakes, then rolled them up. "See? It's a French thing."
"Oh, cool."
"There's only three of us eating?"
"Just you, me, and Sara. Everyone else is normal."
"I see," he said, grabbing all three plates and balancing them on his arms. "Is Sara Mann always so..." He stopped, unable to think of a single word that would describe the woman, and also sensing her ki spike from somewhere outside the kitchen. He pushed the doors open with his feet, still carefully balancing their breakfast.
She was waiting at the dining table, which was long and had eight ornate wooden chairs in total, with a lacy, flowery, perfectly white tablecloth shielding the wood. Two slim and shapeless glass vases with pink roses in them sat on either side of the table, while Western silverware was set all around. "Where's Itaru?" she asked him suspiciously, watching him carefully though her narrowed brown eyes. She was wearing her black cut-off kimono—her set ninja outfit, he presumed. It certainly showed enough of her pale skin to be both distracting to her opponents and to allow easy movement. Her hair was high up on top of her head now, though her bangs still hung limply over the right side of her face, and her fingernails were painted black.
"Why, you think I did something to him?" Roden replied, setting a plate in front of her, then placing his own and Itaru's as far away from her as possible.
"Knowing that you're attached to Kazunori Toshiro slash Takoda Jaden, yes," she replied bluntly, still eyeing him.
"If you dislike her so much, then why didn't you reveal her true identity to those businessmen?"
She inhaled angrily and straightened up in her chair as if preparing to yell, but only turned her nose up at him and looked away, crossing her arms. "Because she knows something about me, as well. Something bad. And she wouldn't hesitate to tell the whole world."
"So at this point, what's holding her back?"
"It's morally fucked up."
"Would you believe that she said the exact same thing to me?" he asked, sitting down at the other end of the table.
"Because that's the only way to describe it," she explained, glancing at him again. "And where is Itaru?"
At that moment, Itaru came out of the kitchen doors carrying three glasses of tea. "I'm coming, coming... Sara, you're so impatient."
"No, I was worried, is all," Sara explained, tearing her eyes from Roden and looking at Itaru. She stood up daintily and swooped over to fetch her own drink. "How can you have this Shogun-supporter in my house, my darling?" she asked as she sat back down, returning to a half-caring pose, legs crossed.
"I'm not a Shogun-supporter."
"It's hardly your house, Sara."
She rolled her eyes at both of them and picked up a fork, stabbing at her crepe a few times, then turning to her tea instead. Itaru sat down next to Roden, watching her from across the length of the oak table. "What are you doing tonight, Sara?" he asked after a few moments of silence, smiling a smile that was less diplomatic and more we're-good-friends-friendly than his usual smile.
She examined Roden before answering, but eventually sighed at his uninterested expression. "I don't know. Just running around the city, listening to people's conversations. I'm not going to Shimabara tonight, though. It's gonna be slow."
"You go around Shimabara listening in on lovers?" Roden asked skeptically, putting his elbows on the table and giving her a look that was meant to say "This is polite conversation. Let's get along." She stared blankly back at him. "I mean," he went on, "what do people talk about there, honestly?"
"I don't listen in, I'm a part of it," she replied, eyebrows raised as if she couldn't believe how dense he was. "I work in Shimabara."
Itaru flinched and tried to make him stop there. Roden saw the desperate look, but didn't think much of it then. "Oh... I'm sorry," he replied, hoping to end the conversation politely there. Sara crushed this hope.
"What are you sorry for? It's my choice, and plenty of information comes from there, too. Actually, it makes my job much easier."
"So who do you gather information for?" She was a prostitute/kunoichi/fashion-lover/musician. All right, then.
"The Choshu Clan, you idiot," she replied, resting her head in her hand and sighing at him, pushing the last bit of her crepe between her lips. "This is just lodging."
"Well that's what I was asking," he snapped back, glaring at the kunoichi intensely. She seemed determined to make talking to him an unpleasant affair, and Itaru wasn't breaking in to help, either. Suddenly she smiled wickedly, stood up, and walked out of the room.
--
Patrol with the First Unit had been surprisingly uneventful. Jaden had come across two suspicious-looking black cats, but no evil Choshu shinobi or samurai out for blood, or even any townsfolk. It was cold for a summer night, and by time they got back, she was in no mood to clean anything, but took to the dojo—and the rest of the chores on the hell-list for the eternally damned—solely for the sake of Yamanami. If she didn't do them, he would receive more abuse than she would.
She finished cleaning the outhouse in the early morning, past midnight but hours before the Second Unit would be up for their patrol, and decided to forgo getting rid of Hijikata's love letters, instead sticking a note on top of them that read, "Don't be an asshole. You should reply to your fans." With everything done and everyone asleep, she didn't have much to do, and ended up sitting boredly in a willow tree near the entrance of Headquarters, biting at her fingernails with determination. It looked as if joining the Shinsengumi wasn't as exciting as she had planned.
Then, soft footsteps on the ground below, mixed with quiet sobs. Jaden squinted through the darkness, soft light of the moon aiding her, to see the boy from the Eighth Unit—Heisuke's crush—stumbling for the closed front gates, clothes and sword clutched against his chest. He was crying, and wiped at his eyes angrily when he reached the gates, setting his things down to push on them.
Jaden realized he was a deserter, and smiled cruelly to herself, hopping silently from the tree. It would make Heisuke sad to hear, but at least she would get some excitement—desertion was punishable by seppuku, after all. It was in Hijikata's beloved Strictures, so there was no way he could reprimand her for it. The boy hadn't noticed her sneaking up behind him, and she now spoke softly into his ear as he struggled with the heavy wooden doors of the gate. "Moonlit walks are so dangerous these days," she hissed, and the poor child froze, caught. He turned around to look at her, his face fearful and tear-streaked, and she almost lost her resolve at that truly adorable face. Recovering her train of thought as quickly as possible, she went on. "So I'm going to assume that's not what you're doing. This'll be quicker than seppuku, I promise."
He turned around fully now, leaving his things on the ground and facing her, shaking slightly. "I-I'm sorry," he said, starting to back up. His back hit the gate, and he yelped. Jaden was drawn in by the innocence and pure fright, suddenly interested, and stopped to drink him in. His square glasses were sliding down his nose, in no way helping his blue-gray eyes, and his deep chocolate-black colored hair fell wildly over his face, as if he'd just been sleeping. His almost childish face had soft pink lips and thick eyelashes, while his shoulders were slim and feminine.
"Please don't beg for your life," Jaden sighed, not wanting to make it too difficult for either of them.
"I-I'm not!" he snapped suddenly, surprising her with a feminine voice. "I just...am sorry. I tried so hard, really, but... Please. Just get it over with. I want to die."
"Enough." Jaden drew her new sword, feeling a little guilty that this cute and frightened creature would be its first kill. As she rose it to strike quickly, however, she caught the distracting smell of blood and stopped, looking the boy over again. "Are you bleeding?"
He snapped to attention nervously and turned a violently bright shade of red, moving his hands shyly up to cover his face. The motion, plus a drop of blood running down his leg and Jaden's strong sense of smell pinpointing the source of the blood, made her suddenly see what was truly going on.
"Don't tell me you're...you're a girl!" she snapped, letting her sword clatter to the ground. The boy—no, girl—nodded solemnly. "And it's...it's that time of the month?" Another quiet, embarrassed nod.
"I came here to become a great samurai, but... It was just so hard," she explained, wiping at her gray eyes again. "And this place... these people... And I didn't even think about this... I want to die, so please...!"
Strangely enough, thoughts of killing and upholding Hijikata's Strictures flushed out of Jaden's body at the request. "What's your name, girl?" she asked, making no move to pick up her katana.
"Ah..." She straightened up and pushed her glasses back up her nose, as if wanting to be polite and make a good impression despite what had just happened between them. "That is... My name is Outa Imari."
Jaden blinked, and suddenly noticed her extreme likeness to Outa Itaru, save for the hair color and style of glasses. "Wait, you're not that Outa Itaru boy's...sister, are you?"
"His twin sister, actually," Imari replied, looking down at the ground dejectedly. "But...I ran away from home because I disagreed with his and my father's political views, thinking I could become a good and proper samurai here. But I failed... I'm a loser. I can't go home. So please! Kill me here!" She was down on her knees.
"Hold on." Jaden thought hard. "So, you ran away from home, stayed here for about a month...and you're going to run away from here now? Why? If you've fooled everyone this long, then why..."
"I totally forgot about my period," she said miserably, hanging her head. "There's no way I can get away with it now. It's not like I can just stay in my room for four days straight. I mean, I don't even have my own room."
"Hmmm." Jaden squatted down by the girl and tipped her chin upwards, looking at her face again. "You're an Outa, so I can see how you might have a spoiled rich-girl mentality, but I appreciate you coming here and trying to fix that." She was still examining Imari, feeling her soft face and looking into her grey eyes, captivated. "You must be very brave at heart, so I'm going to help you."
"Ah..." Imari now looked back at her, confused. "I'm sorry...are you a man or a woman? I-I mean, you look like a woman, I guess, but you've got a katana and—"
"I'm a special woman," Jaden said, picking up her sword. "And I don't mean a transvestite, either. I'm only here because I can best Souji in a match, but I'm supposed to be a secret."
"Okita-sensei?!"
"Shhh." She put a finger to Imari's soft pink lips. "I'm not lying. Don't ask me about it though, or I'll have to let Hijikata-san know about your attempted desertion tonight, ne?" Imari flinched at the name, and Jaden rolled her eyes. Inspiring both love letters and fear. He was unbearable even when he wasn't around. "And anyway, you can't die. I know someone besides me who thinks you're very cute, so I'm going to help you stay alive."
"How?" she hissed back. "I don't think you get how bad this is..."
"Don't underestimate me." She stood up, hoping to look dramatic, and smiled widely, sticking a hand out to help Imari up. "I'm Takoda Jaden."
"Takoda Jaden," she repeated, taking the hand and standing up. "You're really going to help me?"
Jaden nodded. "You were brave and ambitious enough to run from your stress-free life of wealth for the sake of your ideals. It's respectable, and someone as cute as you definitely deserve another chance at this samurai thing, right? Don't let your hormones ruin it again."
"Cute...?" Her tone was disbelieving, shocked. She was growing red. "I've never heard that before. I mean...I'm kind of boyish and...flat as it is, so..."
"No way! My Hei-kun thinks you're absolutely adorable. And that short haircut makes your disguise more convincing. No girl would cut her hair that short."
"You don't mean Todo-sensei, do you? He knows I'm a girl?!"
She winked at Imari. "Heisuke is a lover of all adorable things, whether it's a woman, or a small animal, or a man. And he still thinks you're a man. Though, I'm wondering if we should tell him... I don't know... He has something of a big mouth, but it could also be helpful. I'll feel bad for lying to him..." Throughout the monologue, Imari was staring blankly down at Jaden, waiting patiently. She was tall, maybe even an few centimeters taller than her twin brother, and thin and ragged from the past month of patrolling, training, and not eating as much as she did at home. She snapped to attention, still shaking slightly, when Jaden addressed her again. "Okay, so let's get you cleaned up and back to bed before the Second Unit wakes up."
"R-right."
Jaden smiled at having spared a life and having found a replacement-Roden, still wondering if she should alert Heisuke to the news. She gently put her arms around Imari's neck and hung, directing the girl to the engawa near Yamanami's room. They needed cloth and someone who would cooperate without questions.
After getting large amounts of white cloth composed mostly of Yamanami's spare sheets, the pair sat quietly in the back of headquarters, a bright white lantern illuminating their work. Imari kept her eyes averted from Jaden, flushed at being half-naked before the other woman. Then, a thought. "How do you know my brother?" she asked quietly, looking somewhere else and pretending to be distracted. Jaden saw through it immediately and smiled to herself.
"Your brother... I've argued with him a few times—while disguised, of course. And now he seems to have employed my former student as...I don't know. A bodyguard, or something. Idiot. Roden, I mean. Well, Outa's an idiot, too." Imari made a small sound that could have been agreeing or disagreeing with Jaden, but didn't say any more about her brother. Jaden sighed, curious, and continued as she stuffed cloth into places and knotted things expertly. "Does your brother know you came here?" she asked.
"No. It doesn't matter. He hates me." Her eyes and face were still red, and she now bit her lip to staunch a fresh flow of tears.
Though she knew how terrible it was, Jaden felt warmed that there could be a family that was equally as dysfunctional as all of the families she'd had all her life. She smiled. "Imari-chan, don't worry. We'll take care of you here."
"But...but..." Imari seemed frightened, but desperate to say something she'd been holding in. "This isn't a place to learn how to become a samurai... Everyone here is... They're animals!"
Jaden was caught a little off-guard, and found herself laughing rather than getting angry. "What did you expect, dear?" she asked skeptically, tittering behind her hand. "Tall, sophisticated, and valiant samurai? Trust me, kiddo, this is the best place to learn bushido."
"But—"
"Trust me. Even if they seem a little wild and undignified, they're more samurai than your brother, or any of those tight-ass rich-boys who've never mastered swordsmanship. There's a lot of different styles here, like..." she paused, then began naming off people, watching Imari grow more and more worried. "Well, Sannan-san and Hei-kun are both Hokushin Itto Ryuu students, and most of the others are from Kondo-san's Tennen Rishin Ryuu... Hijikata has his hiratsuki, and with all the customizing he's done, we may as well just say he practices 'Hijikata Toshizou Ryuu.' So you'll learn quickly. All finished."
"Ah...the hiratsuki," Imari said shakily, perking up slightly as she pulled her hakama back on. "I heard that it's a thrust guaranteed to kill in one strike..." It seemed like she was trying to make light conversation, as she smiled, still red from her former nakedness. "Um..."
Jaden didn't reply, as she didn't know what exactly Imari wanted to hear. Yes, Hijikata was a tactical genius, and the technique did just fine with killing. Yes, she had secretly tried it. No, she hadn't put it to use yet. Being up against humans, it was totally unnecessary. A quick slash did the job well. Had she ever considered killing Imari's brother... Well, her own thoughts were getting out of hand now. She stared at the full moon. "Hokushin Itto Ryuu is one of the best sword schools in the country. So you'd best cling to everything Yamanami-san and Heisuke tell you, okay?"
"Jaden-san, do you dislike Hijikata-san?" Imari asked, frowning. "And, the hiratsuki—"
Jaden cut her off with a glare. Its meaning was obvious. "Promise me you'll trust Heisuke and Sannan-san over that arrogant asshole. Just promise me. They're two people guaranteed to not use you. And as your new mentor, I'd hate to see you used."
"Mentor..."
"Yeah. I'll help you fit in, and things. Hey, promise me. Don't change the subject."
Imari bit her bottom lip again, but stood up, stretched, and finally looked Jaden in the eye. Firmly, she said, "Okay. I promise, but... what about you? Shouldn't I have to promise to trust you as well? If you're going to look after me—"
"No." Things were getting too dark too fast, and Imari didn't realize it, and suddenly all Jaden could think was how hungry she was. Jaden looked away to lower the temptation, but shot the girl a chilling sideways glance that made her suddenly flinch, green eyes narrowed to slits, mouth open with canine teeth poking out. "You shouldn't trust me. I am a monster whose soul belongs to another monster, and I can't be trusted. I'll do the best I can with you, but I'm not one to keep promises, so I've given up on making them in the first place."
Imari quickly sat back down, and Jaden suspected that her knees would have given out if she hadn't. "But why sh-should I—" She was tearing up again, and a pang of guilt came roughly to the vampire, who stopped her snarl.
"Okay, darling," she consented, taking Imari's hand and looking sternly at her. "A compromise. Trust me. I might hurt you anyway. But you have my full permission to hurt me back, and to stop following me. Just listen to Sannan-san and Heisuke-kun."
She nodded. "I will. I promise."
777777777
"Itaru's sister..." Toklata said quietly. "I get it now, but…"
"But that his sister joined the Shinsengumi is…a little strange," Ishin finished for her, brushing hair from his face. They were in another city, another mediocre hotel room. "Even if she disagreed with him. And anyway, could it be possible that Imari could be working with Itaru right now, helping him get revenge?"
"Imari is dead," Ronin said matter-of-factly, eyes closed as he lay tiredly on the patterned blue bedding. He continued to seem beaten and perpetually tired.
"How can you be sure?" Ishin pursued without even looking at Ronin. He too looked haggard and worn from the constant travelling, and spoke without his normal accusing conviction. "You thought that Itaru was dead, and he just popped out of nowhere, so…"
"She's dead," Sakura confirmed firmly, her words certain and emotionless. "Trust us on this one."
No one said anything after that, everyone looking away. New clothes, a warm bed, and hot food did little to nothing for anyone's morale when they were continuously tramping along with no destination. They weren't allowed to meet new people or even interact with anyone. Even going out to eat was a risk. Sakura's face was now completely healed and only a few light scars served as reminders of Itaru's cruelty, though it was hard to bear in mind when the Itaru of the story was so happy and bright and seemingly carefree.
"It's really sad," Toklata put in finally. "That Imari thought that Itaru hated her, and Itaru was only pretending… It's sad."
"It is," Ronin agreed. "They were a really messed up family, but that's still not the problem.
"Sara Mann seems a little eccentric," Ishin added. "Is that the problem?"
"Not exactly. Sort of. It doesn't matter anyway."
A sigh. "Well, it's not looking good either way. Here and now, or back then. We're just running around crazily since we left the mountain. I feel like a criminal."
There was a knock at the door that made Toklata jump and everyone else exchange unsure glances. A cheery call of "Room service!" made them relax slightly, and Ronin stood up to get the door. A short woman in a red hotel uniform smiled brightly at them from outside of the threshold, holding up a tray with the dinner that they had ordered only hours earlier, and had apparently forgotten about. He thanked the woman with a dazzling smile, and she seemed suddenly to be in a hurry to get away before she swooned so hard that she fell flat on her face. Pink and flustered, she handed off the tray and quickly added, "Also, sir, a letter came for you." She pulled a pink envelope from the breast pocket of her vest and offered it pertly to Ronin . "I hope you enjoy the food," she said , smiling shyly before retreating away from the room.
Ronin held the envelope upside down, terrified, and shut the door slowly. Sakura stood up and took the tray of food from him, setting it down coolly on one of the bedside tables of the yellow room and watching him carefully. Everyone waited anxiously, tense and silent. He flipped the letter over and frowned tightly, suspicions instantly confirmed at the terrible handwriting that he recognized as Itaru's imperfect script. He opened the envelope anxiously and quickly read, holding the note away from everyone else's prying and worried eyes.
Roden-kun, it began pleasantly. It went terribly downhill from there.
--
A/N-Oh goodness. Yes, school has started and it sucks. I don't have a huge amount of spare time but mostly I've just been tweaking this chapter for a while. Like, a while. However, I do have a teacher this year that must be the reincarnation of Yamanami, so that might give me some inspiration. Well, that also might be a stretch… In any case, it's up now. Please read and review. I'd love some feedback on Imari and Sara, as they're my favorite female characters.