Disclaimer: The usual. I own the title.

SUMMER

They were outside the great gate of Kyoto, and all the crowd was gone. Before them lay broad green fields, and a rough sandy road stretching brown-gold into the distance with a wood beyond. The voices from the city died away. Somewhere a lark sung in the summer sky; a blue sky, patched here and there with puffy fair-weather clouds, the sun high amongst them now. They turned up the sandy road and went on without breaking step, at a steady walk.

Heisuke eyed the flower in Tetsu's sash. "Oooh!" he said in a mocking falsetto. "A flower for the puppy, is it?"

Tetsu said irritably. "Leave off."

"Not as pretty as Saya, the one who gave it to you." Heisuke leaned closer, his face inches from the boy.

"As who?"

"Saya-chan. Don't you think she's pretty, then?" The lopsided grin grew wider.

"I suppose so, yes," Tetsu flushed. "I never thought about it."

Heisuke laughed, "One good thing about you, you're uncomplicated."

But Tetsu's mind had jumped backward to the tableau he had unwittingly interrupted last night. He wound a loose string thoughtfully round one finger as he walked. "I wonder what Okita-san is doing now, back there."

Heisuke snorted. "The usual, of course. The Demon is probably moping around in his room and Okita is most likely with him since he is not patrolling today." His next remark startled Tetsu. "Too bad the Demon didn't take a shine to Itou-san."

Tetsu stopped abruptly and frowned, confused. "Well, Itou-san, of course! But Hijikata-san? I thought he was – well, you know. I thought – "

"You thought the Old Demon was gay?" Heisuke roared, and half a dozen larks rocketed into the air. He put a long arm around Tetsu's shoulders, obviously tickled by the notion. "Oh, my. No-o-o. Not by a wondrous long shot. Hijikata-Toshizou," he informed him as they strolled along, "is in love with Nature and women are nature at its finest for the Old Demon! Couldn't say no if a woman came to him, and come they surely did."

"But… " Tetsu said, more confused now. "But I saw them yesterday, and he was undoing Okita-san's sash…"

"Note, if you will," Heisuke said, face grave, eyes alight, "the awe-inspiring lack of shock with which I greet your announcement."

Tetsu growled at the man he was very nearly content to call his friend. "Eat shit," he said through gritted teeth, "and die."

"Your master has had a lamentable influence on your vocabulary," Heisuke said with starchy disapproval.

They sat for a time listening to the sounds of the woods and staring at the western sky, blazing now with the colours of sundown. Heisuke seemed to be working something out, so Tetsu just waited until he spoke again.

Heisuke was concerned about how the Shinsengumi would fare after the upheaval; he did not want to see anyone hurt. Okita's all guts and brains on the outside, but there is broken glass inside that child. If he had to choose, the Old Demon is going to choose to follow through with his plans and draconian laws, and he would hate to think how Souji would take that.

I, for one, am not going to make the same mistake Sannan made all those years ago.

The object of this conversation was unaware of the extent to which the exalted state of his soul was drawing notice. Toshi was sweating buckets with Saizou curled up on his lap, radiating heat like a second sun in the late afternoon. If, instead of assuming that he was meditating on the future of Japan or synthesising some new forms of torture for the Choshu members, anyone had asked him directly what he was thinking about, he would have said, without hesitation, "I was thinking that I could really use a drink of tea."

A tea and peaceful quiet as he worked, that would have been perfection. But even with those two elements of bliss, he knew he would never be completely happy.

Still, there was great contentment in the simplest moments. Like now: sitting in his room in the Mibu Temple, where he could relax in the afternoon while the others slept, without so many interruptions. All the screen doors were set open, which gave a pleasant sense of summer freedom.

Lulled by the afternoon heat, the stilly hum and the warm breeze, Souji would relax and Toshi would feel his breathing slow and his sweet weight settling against him. Sometimes he would simply sit and watch him sleep, enjoying the rare silence. Toshi pushed the hair off his forehead one-handedly and looked down at Souji, shifting slightly to ease the numbness in his right arm.

And he wondered, as he recently did with startling frequency, if Souji still missed his sister. Such topics were usually off-limits and deftly turned aside when brought up. Mitsu was the ideal wife: dignified, devoted, subtle, confident – in other words, a woman of true samurai descent. He loved her low husky voice; similar to Souji's, now that he thought of it, but unusual among grown men.

More than anything, he wished to know if Souji blamed him for the abject misery they had known since the move to Kyoto – endless patrols and raids that more often than not ended with bloodshed.

"Grief – where should it end?" Toshi muttered, his mind struggling sluggishly with the vague introit. He glared at the Book in the far corner of the room; he would rather be spanked a hundred times than risk waking Souji just to get to it. He tried again, his voice barely a whisper:

"Grief – where should it end?

Where the leaves go in Autumn."

He stopped, surprised at how fast he had managed to come up with two lines of a haiku. It usually took him a full afternoon to complete just one. Heartened, he started again.

"Grief – where should it end?

Where the leaves go in Autumn."

And how should he proceed from there? He frowned.

"Where the leaves go in Autumn."

"Where…"

And then Toshi realised the warm weight on his arm was gone and that the distracting prickling sensation heralding the return of normal blood circulation was starting. Souji, roused from his light nap, yawned and craned his neck to look at Toshi. "That's very poetic, Hijikata-san. Of course the trouble with leaves is, they grow again."

Toshi grunted, choosing to remain otherwise silent.

"Why, the great Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi is well and truly stumped!" he paused, a finger tapping insistently on the chin. "How about this, Hijikata-san: Plum blossoms in spring. ?"

Toshi started. What exactly is he getting at? His face, however, remained an unassailable mask of calm and logic as he puffed on his pipe. "You insufferable brat. That has no logical link to the previous lines."

Souji gazed wistfully at the courtyard. "There is a link, alright." He looked at Toshi and seemed suddenly to relax; he grinned. "There are references to plants and seasons in the second line, aren't there?"

"That's it. I'm quitting. I've had enough," Toshi declared. "It's too hot, and this has become entirely too silly."

"At least it isn't bratty," his friend pointed out, laughing.

The screen door leading to the corridor slid open and Tetsu entered surreptitiously with the made tea. "Anou, Okita-san, who were you referring to?"

"Let's see," Toshi said, reading from an invisible scroll and deliberately talking over Souji's head. "Brats. It says, Okita Souji and Ichimura Tetsunosuke. It also says here, insufferable."

Ignoring Toshi, Souji winked at Tetsu and assured him with perfect aplomb, "It's a form of endearment."

The End

I admit this is rather rushed too, but I tried my best given the various constraints, so gimme some feedback, yes? That would be wonderful and nice and beautiful. And heavenly.

You know what I mean.

Review! Grovels on the floor.

Anyway, this is not finished. I mean, don't you people want to know what Tetsu saw? Snickers. You decide.