A/N: Yay! People reviewed again! Thanks so much for your support. I feel special. And April-san, I believe you requested kissing. Well, just read and see. It might not be satisfactory, but hey, I need to have something to get the two started. Unfortunately, you're going to have to sit through yet another Okita POV. I'll try to make the next one a Soujiro POV. And I really, really hope this isn't too short. If it is, I shall commit sepukku.

I haven't mentioned this yet, but my wonderful beta, Oniwabanshu, has been faithfully reading these fanfics. All praise go to her.

The Flow of Blood

chapter three: journey's beginning

A few seconds passed, as Okita stood silently, awaiting an impending attack or at least, a voice. Instead, he heard more steps, and the creak of a door. He blinked in surprise. What the hell was going on? Had this second person simply left? His brows furrowing in confusion, he walked over to his sword chest, and pulled out a nihontou, looking around to make sure that he was not about to be attacked again. He pulled it out of it's sheath, and walked carefully toward the door, placing his hands on the wood, preparing to open it, and--

"Okita Souji-sama?"

The door came flying into his face, whacking him square in the forehead and shoving him right into the wall as someone pushed the door open. He felt a lump swell on his head, as he groaned in annoyance.

"Okita Souji-sama?" The voice said again, and he regcognized it as Soujiro's.

Soujiro? What was he doing awake at this time? It must have been five o'clock in the morning.

Light flooded the room as the dark-haired boy stepped in, with a candlestick in one hand and a roll of bandages on the other. "Okita-sama? Are you here?" He stopped for a moment, cocking his head. "I could have sworn," He mumbled to himself, as he turned around, spotting the man he was looking for on the floor, rubbing his forehead vigorously. Soujiro laughed gleefully at the sight. "Okita-sama, there you are! What are you doing on the floor?"

Okita looked incredulously at the boy. "Never mind it, Soujiro-san. I thought you were asleep."

"Not quite." He grinned, as he walked over to Okita, putting down the candlestick and the bandages. He sank to his knees so that he was face-to-face with the older man, his smiling face lit up in the shadowy candlelight. For some inexplicable reason, Okita felt his breath hitch at the sight.

"Actually," The boy continued, "I was awake all this time. I just couldn't go to sleep." He smiled. "I heard some odd noises from your room, Okita-sama, and I began to get worried, and decided to drop in and take care of that nuisance of yours." He grinned and bowed, his hair falling down from his head and tickling Okita's ankles. "Not that I doubted that you would have been able to defeat him yourself, Okita-sama. But after all, I am supposed to help people, as a rurouni."

Soujiro continued to smile at a speechless Okita, and reached forward, and took his bleeding arm in his hand. "I'll put some bandages on your arm for you, if you don't mind, Okita-sama," He said, cheerily, pulling up his sleeve. He took a wet cloth and wiped away the blood that had dried on his arm and palm.

"Onegai, Soujiro-san, just call me Souji." Okita said, quietly, realizing completely now that Soujiro knew exactly who he was.

"I can't do that, Okita-sama," He looked up at him, his face beaming. "You are the famous Okita Souji, the captain of the First Unit of the Shinsengumi--"

"I was, Soujiro-san. I was the captain of the First Unit. I am not, anymore." Okita said, a sting in his voice. He did not want to be reminded of his men in the Shinsengumi, not now. Not after everything that had happened.

Soujiro just nodded, with that grin on his face. "That's true. But I suppose you can't just let go of it, can you?" He pulled a tape of bandages and placed it on Okita's arm. "Whether you like it or not, I suppose your past makes up a part of who you are. A part of you that you just cannot change."

Okita paused for a moment and looked at the boy. He looked young and carefree, unburdened, almost, with that bright smile to alleviate all his worries. He looked almost too happy. "Why do you say that, Soujiro-san?" He felt himself frowning. Something was not right about this boy. He found himself moving closer to his face, like an insect drawn to radiating light.

For a response, the boy simply smiled wider, bringing his dark eyes to meet Okita's chocolate-brown ones. Instead, he simply said: "Okita Souji-sama, I'm glad I've met you. You've always inspired me, ever since I first heard about you."

Okita felt color rise to his cheeks. "Arigatou, Soujiro-san," Okita said. "I'm glad I could be of use." He smiled crookedly, which caught Soujiro's attention. For a moment, Okita could have sworn that Soujiro was not smiling. The candlelight is playing tricks on my eyes, Okita told himself, as he found himself staring at the younger boy's mouth.

Currently, they were curved, just slightly, into a smile. They looked so warm and plush and supple; the older man felt an impulse to touch them with his fingers. Or better yet, with his mouth. He found himself moving closer and closer to the younger boy, who seemed to be completely oblivious to his intentions.

Okita could feel Soujiro's hot breath tickle his own, just barely; it sent a variety of sensations spreading throughout his body. Then, without warning, he moved forward and quickly captured the younger boy's lips with his own.

It was a chaste kiss, full of uncertainty. Soujiro's lips were cold and icy, though soft. Okita felt the boy stiffen under the kiss, his mouth froze up completely, as did his movements to bandage his arm. He was very still, and the older man became vaguely aware of the fact that he may not have liked being kissed. Embarrassment shooting through his mind, Okita quickly let his lips go, bringing his eyes to meet the younger man's face.

Soujiro simply smiled, and went back to bandaging his arm.

Okita blinked in confusion. What was the matter with this boy? If being kissed was something against his will, why was he so complaisant about it? Why did he not react to it at all? And now, he was acting like it had never happened...

Color rose to his cheeks. He felt annoyed with himself for going to kiss the boy in the first place. He barely even knew him. He didn't even know what his surname was. He didn't know a thing...

"Perhaps, Okita-sama, you should leave Yamagata, too." Soujiro's voice caught Okita off guard. It was just like it always was: calm, polite, and unnervingly cheerful.

After a long while, Okita answered. "Hai, Soujiro-san, I probably should. I don't really have anywhere to go, though." All his relatives were gone by now, and he had never married, so was without a wife or a family of his own. He was alone.

Soujiro smiled wider. "I don't have anyone, either." He said that so cheerfully, Okita was taken aback. "It would be nice to have some company, however. Would you like to come with me, Okita-sama?" He grinned ethereally, candlelight dancing on his face.

"You want me...to come with you?" Okita asked. He felt exceptionally guilty about this, especially after kissing the boy; against his will, probably. He did not understand why Soujiro asked him to accompany him on his wanderings.

"If you would like to," Soujiro said, still smiling. "I would like your company."

"Oh." Okita said, dumbly. He felt himself being caught off-guard by this boy far too much. It began to annoy him. It was usually him with the everlasting smile and the humor; it was usually him who caught people by surprise from his sunshiny cheer and optimism. But he felt himself being out-surprised by a mere twenty-year-old boy who just couldn't stop smiling.

Soujiro looked up, after tying the bandages firmly together. "Well?" He said. "Would you like to? I would sincerely appreciate your company. And, like they say, two swords are better than one!" He laughed with what seemed like incurable happiness.

"Right," Okita said, feeling rather small at the moment. He then pulled on his own smile, defensively, almost. "I would love to have your company, Soujiro-san. Arigatou gozaimasu."

Soujiro grinned. "That's great!" He laughed. Okita could have sworn that there was a trace of sincerity in the boy's voice. He felt his stomach twist gently at the sight of the boy, and a stinge of annoyance as he remembered the kiss that he had attempted to give him. He may be a cute boy, but there was something definitely wrong about him. He seemed so complaisant, yet so cold at the same time. He felt rather apprehensive about travelling with the boy. But there was just no way that he could pull away from the mystery that the boy held...

"We'll leave tomorrow afternoon, then, Okita-sama?" Soujiro continued. "Or today afternoon, rather. It's morning already." And indeed, the sun was rising. He then got up, taking the leftover bandages and the candlestick with him. "Have a good sleep, Okita-sama," He grinned. "I'll go pack my things now, and get some provisions."

"Don't bother with it, I'll do it." Okita stated forcefully.

Soujiro simply shook his head. "You take your rest, Okita-sama. You've had a rather rough night, ne?" He smiled. "I'll do it." He turned from the older man. "I hope your arm feels better, Okita-sama."

Okita grinned blankly, and watched the boy leave, his cropped hair shining in the light of the dawn. He stared as he opened the door and closed it gently, and it was then that he became all too aware of the emptiness of the room.