Yay! Second chapter up! This one is Yamazaki Susumu's! Since he appears to be about the same age as Tetsu, I thought his diary should reflect a bit of his immaturity. Um… that's about all I have to say for this chapter, so go ahead and enjoy it!

PMK does not belong to me

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Susumu

Day One

Today, a task of the greatest importance has been bestowed onto me. Difficult as it may be, I swear on my life to complete this task faithfully and to the fullest of my abilities. Never will I fail Kondou-san, Hijikata-san or the Shinsengumi.

How I will fill an entire diary with everything about blood shed is indeed a rather… intricate problem, but I am confident in my abilities as a shinobi to accomplish this. Though I am afraid I may have to stick to the physical areas about bloodshed, given that I have no emotions whatsoever.

I have no choice but to state that I generally do not see a lot of bloodshed, as my job mainly consists of gathering information. It is a rather safe job to have, as the only dangers I face usually come in the form of other ninja. The general trend in ninja-hood nowadays seem to lean more towards the female side however, given that I barely see any other shinobi other than myself.

However, I digress. The gender ratio of the ninja population in Kyoto does not matter to me whatsoever. All that matters is upholding my vow of loyalty to my master, Hijikata-san, of course.

Back to the issues of bloodshed; I have decided that it is unwise to cram everything about bloodshed into one entry, as there are only so many physical characteristics that bloodshed has.

Thus, my daily observance of bloodshed for today is: Blood is red.

Day Two

Today, my sister (who I do not think of as a sister) sneakily asked me if I was starting to take interest in women. I do not know what prompted this discussion about my 'awakening sensibilities' (alternatively known as 'raging hormones'), as she calls it, but I suspect it has something to do with the above entry. I.e. I believe she has been reading my diary. Not that I care; there is nothing personal at all in my diary.

However, for the sake of privacy (which I do appreciate very much), I have decided to hide this diary. I believe the ceiling boards are a very good place to do so, given I am the only one who spends any significant amount of time up there.

The main point I wish to say here is that I have little interest in women. I do, of course, appreciate beautiful women, but given that I myself have extensive knowledge in make-up and clothing, and how they can alter a person's looks, I have become such that I do not believe any woman wearing make-up is truly beautiful underneath. That is not to say I have to see a woman totally naked to judge her beauty. I am not Todou-san.

Needless to say, even if I do find the perfect woman, I would not be able to establish any sort of relationship with her as I am a shinobi, and thus a non-entity.

Daily observation of blood: Blood is wet.

Day Three

Apparently, the ceiling boards are not a very good place to hide my diary because today, my sister (who I still do not think of as my sister) came to me and fervently denied ever reading my diary. I should have guessed she frequented the ceiling given how clean and neat those areas are. I think I shall have to find another hiding place.

Or maybe, I could just carry the diary with my all the time. Inconvenient, yes, but potentially the best hiding place I can find. After all, my sister (who I do not love as a sister), while a great kunoichi, cannot possibly search me without my knowledge.

Today, I had a rather unpleasant run-in with the new page. I believe his name is Ichimura Tetsunosuke a.k.a. Tetsu, puppy-kun or puppy-chan; age fifteen; height, a hundred and forty centimeters (a hundred and fifty if you count his hair); weight, forty kilograms; family, elder brother Ichimura Tatsunosuke; habitual routine, non-existent unless you consider his unique ability to be persistently irritating.

As the event is unpleasant and inconsequential, and I have, of course, absolutely no emotional response to it, I believe I can sum it up in just one sentence: Ichimura Tetsunosuke is trying to take over me as a shinobi.

If I had any emotions in me, I believe I would have laughed. After all, being a shinobi requires stealth and silence more than anything; two traits that the page (fortunately) lacks. Thus, his never-ending bickering and boasting does not disturb me in the slightest. However, if he should choose to endanger my mission, I may have to initiate his… sudden and highly mysterious disappearance.

Daily observation of blood: Blood is sticky.

Day Four

I am on a mission now, and thus should not be doing anything other than watching the Choshu rebels run around a… certain shop-house. However, since running around a shop-house basically sums up what those Choshu rebels are doing, I have found some spare time to sit on the roof and write in the diary.

However, I must re-iterate that I am not defending myself for not concentrating on the mission. I have absolutely no need to defend myself, as I am still keeping an eye on this particular shop-house. As evidence, I can state that at this moment, two Choshu rebels have just entered the shop-house. One is tall with a high pony-tail, and is wearing a white yukata. The other has a slight build, sports a top-knot and is wearing a green gi and a grey hakama. The latter has a scar running from the lower lid of his right eye to his collar-bone. There; evidence!

… … …

I shouldn't have written that down now, should I?

Not that it matters, because while I have added exclamation marks to the end of my sentences, they are there more as a linguistic tool rather than a show of emotion. I did not have any kind of emotional response to the thought of being accused of slacking off.

And I am not slacking off because I am still keeping an eye on the shop-house.

I'm going back to my mission now.

Not that I have ever been away from my mission, of course.

I… don't have to justify myself at all because there is nothing to… whatever.

Daily observation of blood: Blood attracts flies

Day Five

My sister (whom I will never think of as my sister) has done it again. Today, she made a remark about me having remarkable multi-tasking skills, and thus hinted that despite the fact that I keep my diary tucked in my yukata all the time, she has somehow managed to sneak a peek into my last entry.

I do not know how she does this, but I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that I leave my diary with my clothes when I go into the bath. This is bad; it seems I cannot leave my diary alone without the fear of my sister (whom I refuse to think of as my sister) peeping into it. I would leave it with Hijikata-san, only I do not feel it is appropriate for me to ask requests of my master.

I may have to resort to begging Okita-san for help, given he is the only person other than Hijikata-san that I trust. On the other hand, while he may keep my sister (who will never ever truly be my sister) from reading my diary, I do not trust him to not read my diary himself.

Whatever the case may be, I believe I shall just have to bear with my sister (who I will never call my sister) sneaking into my diary just for a little while more until I come up with a good defensive plan.

And the humiliation did not end with my sister (who I will never love as a sister) sneaking into my diary. Yesterday, she was sent on kunoichi duty by Hijikata-san, which meant that kitchen duties fell to me.

It was humiliating enough when Okita-san found out I cross-dress during missions (as he does not have the decency to just look embarrass and walk away, but has to try to counsel me and 'understand' me). When they found out I actually cook better than my sister (who I have no sibling attachment to), it got worse. The Comedian… I mean, Harada-san, Nagakura-san and Todou-san had to go around telling everybody that I am a man 'in touch with my feminine side', and thus not such a 'terrible person' after all as 'Souji is one of those as well'.

I do not know where to hide my face. I think that maybe I should commit seppuku.

And if you are going to accuse me of having… emotions, my dear sister, I'll have to inform you that embarrassment is not an emotion. Everyone knows that.

Daily observation of blood: Blood smells like rot and copper.

Day Six

I always knew there would be a downside to my sister (whom I refuse to admit is my sister) reading my diary. Among those that I considered include a loss of privacy and a great amount of teasing. What I had failed to even think of was the fact that she may become paranoid.

Take for example, the events of the afternoon.

I was kneeling in my room, cleaning a dagger. When I held it up to examine the hilt area, which is a magnet for dirt (specifically the kind that takes hours to remove), the door suddenly opened and my sister (who is really not my sister) came in and shot me one of the most disapproving looks I have ever received in my entire life. Following which, she started to accuse me of letting Hijikata-san down by committing seppuku.

It was only out of sheer respect for her abilities as a kunoichi (and not an older sibling) that I did not correct her, Yet, she had the… the audacity to continue on with a lecture about how I am a 'shinobi, not a samurai'. I can't believe I was reduced to muttering, "I know, I know that". Does she think I am that stupid?

And I swear I was not cleaning the dagger so I could commit seppuku.

However, I am not angry at all. There is nothing to be angry about, and I do not have any emotions at all.

I am merely… disdainful of her… lack of ability to tell that I'm merely cleaning my dagger, and not attempting seppuku. That's right, that's all there is to it!

Daily observations about blood: Blood smells like copper and salt.

Day Seven

Today, I experienced a phenomenon that occurs very rarely in one's life, mainly because right after experiencing this phenomenon, most people die. I believe the layman's term for this occurrence is 'a near-death experience'.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning.

Under the orders of Hijikata-san, I was on the roof watching the doings of the people entering and leaving the Sakura Lantern Pleasure House. That is, in the capacity of a Watcher, of course, and not because I am interested in the… doings of those who enter such places. I have absolutely no desire to find out such things unless they directly or indirectly affect the well-being of the Shiinsengumi.

At any rate, I was watching the entrance of the Sakura Lantern Pleasure House when I was attacked by a lone kunoichi. Despite my obvious advantage in size and strength, she appeared to have the upper-hand over me, and I was forced to retreat.

Unfortunately, as I was fleeing… I mean, strategically retreating from her, my foot skidded out from under me on the wet tiles, and I fell head-first to the ground.

That was when the near-death experience occurred. As I fell, my life flashed before me, from beginning to end, showing some of the more significant events of my life, like when I first went on a Watcher mission. Despite my inexperience, it was a great success, and the Shinsengumi managed to take down several important figures among the Choshu rebels.

Of course, there were some other less significant events that flashed before my eyes, like the time when I was eight. To sum up my reaction to that event, I can't believe I let my sister (who I will never love as a sister) cut my hair in that style. It made me look like a cross between a jellyfish and a soup bowl.

Ah, the humiliation of having Yamazaki Ayumu as an elder sister.

Though, of course, I have never thought of her as an elder sister.

In any case, the near-death experience was a positively interesting… experience, and I am sure I will remember it for the rest of my life, especially since after experiencing it, I was spared from dying.

And now I have to live with this pain.

Not that I am complaining, because complaining suggests that I am angry at something, and I am not angry because I do not have any emotions.

Daily observation of blood: Blood tastes like copper and salt, according to Okita-san.

Day Eight

I know that it is not very… good to talk ill of your comrades, but I think it is about time someone took that… page into hand.

Upon returning from my mission, I was about to proceed to my room to clean up a rather… nasty cut in my chest when that… thing chose to run straight into me, hitting me exactly where I got cut strategically retreating from a bunch of rabid kunoichi who had chosen to use me for target practice.

Instead of apologizing like any good page would, that thing just ran away, screaming, "Okita-san is approaching Harada-san's room with a sword in his hand! Someone please volunteer to take over as Harada-san's tuition teacher!"

Now, while it is perfectly alright to be in a panic because one of our captains is about to be murdered brutally by another one of our captains, I do not think that justifies… expanding my wound by almost twice its original length. Besides, an open wound making contact with that miserable excuse of a page is sure to become infected with stupidititis. I shall have to make sure I clean this wound properly.

Then there is that problem with those… kunoichi. Now, that is a bunch that has absolutely no regard for any kind of code, bushido, ninja or otherwise. Admittedly, when on a mission, the gender of the opponent does not matter, but that does not mean they should have no qualms about… sitting on me or… touching me… Not that it matters of course, because as a shinobi, I am fully aware that they are merely using psychological warfare on me. Besides, though still in my teens, I am already considered a man, and thus I have a matured outlook on these animalistic antics. I feel no anger or humiliation at their childish actions.

And I am not blushing.

However, I obviously cannot allow them to humiliate the Shinsengumi Watcher Yamazaki Susumu and get away with it. Thus, I shall have to come up with some kind of plan to get back at them…

Wait… footsteps… ah, my sister (whom I do not think of as a sister) is approaching my room. I shall have to hide this diary now… in my yukata? No, she's sure to want to take a look at my wound.

Then I guess I'll just have to sit on it and pray she doesn't make me get up.

Daily observation of blood: Can't be done right now because she's right outside my door already.

Day Nine

I knew it. I knew I was going to get stupidititis. It is the only explanation for why I actually chose to take my sister's (who I will never think of as my sister) advice and Okita-san's advice.

Baking brownies for the kunoichi and holding a heart-to-heart session with them? What on earth prompted me to do that?

Sure, it worked. They promised to stop torturing me. But now, they've decided to adopt me as part of their Kyoto Choshu Rebel Kunoichi Sisterhood. In my opinion, I shouldn't be able to qualify for this Sisterhood, given the only part of the criteria I qualify for is the town the group is based at.

Okay, so they swore that the meetings are non-political and that I could wear my Osen-wig when I go for the meetings, but still…

Besides, they want me to attend their weekly slumber parties. According to my sister (whom I do not feel is my sister), a slumber party basically comprises of doing each other's hair and nails, exchanging the latest gossip and sleeping together.

I have no problem with them wanting to do my hair and nails for me, but gossiping? Do they actually expect me to discuss the Shinsengumi matters with them? I think it's a plot to get information about the doings and plans of the Miburo.

And… and… and… sleeping together? Despite the fact that we are all ninjas, a slumber party is not a mission, and thus gender does count. It would be detrimental for the Shinsengumi's reputation if I… I mean… I sleep with… I… I sleep with them.

I know Hijikata-san does it all the time, but that's different; he's a demon vice-commander. He's expected to be evil, immoral and dangerous to the entire female population in Kyoto. I am a shinobi, a non-entity. A non-entity does not… sleep with… other non-entities. The only time sleeping with other… non-entities is justified for a non-entity is when it's on a mission.

Thus this slumber party is dangerous, immoral and against all the codes of bushido and ninja-do.

So what on earth made me agree to go?

Daily observation of blood: Blood is delightful to see, especially when it belongs to certain hormonal kunoichi.

Day Ten

It was most unfortunate for Hijikata-san's dear page that he ran into me again today, thus effectively re-opening and expanding my wound at the same time. As I am already infected with stupidititis, I took the time to make him suffer before retreating back to my room to clean the wound.

I know many would disagree with me, but I think the bald patches on his head have added a level of maturity to his person that hours of training in the bushido code could not. Thus, I do not see what he has to complain about; after all, he is the one who hates being treated as a ten year old. At any rate, his hair was too thick and probably full of lice and fleas.

Which would explain why just two minutes ago, I was busy scrubbing my hand at the well.

I wonder how many more diseases that thing could carry.

On the other hand, that is inconsequential and irrelevant, so I do not care.

What is more important is how am I supposed to deal with the slumber party tonight? I can't possibly not go; they could end up resuming their torture of me. Yet I… I… I do not what to do should they ask me to…

But that's okay; I can handle it. I do not need anymore redundant advice from my sister (whom I do not treat as my sister) or Okita-san, though he does give rather… sound advice – when he's not busy tending to his pigs or on a sugar-high.

I shall just have to face this task with the stoicism of a samurai and the coolness of a shinobi. I shall be prepared, with everything necessary to thwart any attempts on my… physical self.

Time to go bake some brownies with sake.

Lots of sake.

Daily observation of blood: Mine is about to be spilled soon.

Day Eleven

If I am to judge correctly by the position of the moon, right now should be either very late into Day Ten or very early into Day Eleven. I have decided to take the latter, which explains why I am writing in my diary under the heading of Day Eleven.

Right now, I am currently at the slumber party, which means I am lying on the roof of the latest Choshu hideout. Below me, I can hear the arsonist, Yoshida, conversing with his page on the issues of hiring new kunoichi. I think that is information worth sending to Hijikata-san.

Of course, before I can go back to report to Hijikata-san, I will have to undo the braids those miserable kunoichi had chosen to put into my hair. I knew I should have worn the Osen-wig the whole day long, but it was too hot and scratchy, and thus I foolishly removed it.

The moment those wretched beings saw my hair, they started gushing about how great my hair would look in braids… 'Dreadlocks', they called it. Apparently it is a new fashion trend started by one Sakamoto Ryoma. At any rate, I now look like a cross between a straw hat and a duster.

I'm trying to think positive by treating this… incident as a lesson in stoicism – never remove a part of your disguise because it is uncomfortable.

On the positive side, I do not have to do my daily manicure anymore (a process I go through, only to look convincingly female). These kunoichi have done a good job in shaping my nails, but I am not happy with the fact that they have decided to paint my nails (and my hair) pink. That is not to say I am ever happy, because happiness is an emotion, and I do not have any emotions at all. It is just that, while I understand that pink suits my complexion very well, I will have a lot of trouble washing it out or explaining it to Hijikata-san when I next meet him.

As of it, my information has been incorrect. Throughout this slumber party, there has been no move to gossip at all. No one asked me anything about the plans or doings of the Shinsengumi; all they talked about was this 'cute guy from the Satsuma', the 'bitch he is dating', the newest make-up on the market and the latest kimono prints. In fact, they kept jumping from one subject to the other, making it hard for me to follow the conversation.

Maybe it is a ploy to keep me off balance so I don't realize they are talking in code.

As for the sleeping part, I would breathe a sigh of relief if I was capable of feeling anything like 'relief'. Apparently, when they said 'sleeping together', they meant it in a literal sense. The only physical part about it is that all four of them have decided to use me as a pillow, and one of them has chosen to cuddle with my Osen-wig.

Note to self: Get a new wig.

Second note to self: Get rid of current yukata (which is covered with drool) and buy a new one.

As of it, other than the pink stuff, and the time wasted baking sufficient brownies for all four of them, this slumber party has proceeded relatively well. The need to defend myself did not occur at all, and I saw no call for killing any of them. As such, I believe I can call this event a success.

Now, I shall just have to figure out how to take a nap without either of these miserable wrenches suffocating me.

Daily observation of blood: I was wrong on the last entry; the only blood spilt tonight shall be my sister's (whom I do not think of as my sister), given I can see her peeping at me from the roof across the street.

Day Twelve

Alas for me, the wound in my chest has re-opened again. The cause of this re-opening was not that… thing this time, but one of my… sisters from the Sisterhood. When she woke up to discover herself sleeping on a man, she went into what is commonly known as a blushing fit where she turned red from head to toe. Unfortunately for me, this movement of blood to the surface of the skin was accompanied by a coy, ill-aimed push, which effectively re-opened my wound. Their efforts to close the wound only resulted in blood all over my yukata.

I believe now, I have a disease known commonly as the kooties. While I am not sure what that is, I have overheard Ichimura Tatsunosuke telling that…thing that you could get those if you come into close contact with women, specifically one called 'Saya'.

That is irrelevant however, as no matter what disease I get, I will still continue to carry on my job as the Shinsengumi Watcher. I will not let the Shinsengumi, Kondou-san or Hijikata-san down.

Now, if I can just find a way to explain to Hijikata-san why my nails are pink, all would be fine.

I've managed to get rid of the pink in my hair, but the pink on my nails just wouldn't be washed away. Tonight, I may be able to get away with it, as I can wear my gloves and boots... but I couldn't possibly wear them all the time. Horrors of horrors, I may just have to ask my sister (whom I do not think of as my sister) for help.

Or… I could ask Okita-san to teach me how to avoid being tortured and murdered by Hijikata-san – which would explain what I'm doing here, kneeling next to that miserable excuse of a page, Harada-san and Nagakura-san. The only reason why I allow myself this indignity is because I am convinced Okita-san is the only person in the world who knows how to avoid murder by demon.

Do not get me wrong, I am absolutely loyal to Hijikata-san. However, being forced to commit seppuku because I have pink nails is just not the way I intend to die.

Daily observation of blood: Blood is considered the life-force of… life.

Day Thirteen

I have decided that Okita-san is entirely deserving of my gratitude. Today, I was sitting on the roof, trying to remove the pink from the nails, and all over me (apparently, those damned kunoichi had painted pink pictures on my back; I only figured out when Saitou-san told me I have a pink shadow floating around behind me). This process thus required me to strip myself to my…

But that is unimportant, what is important was that just at that critical moment, Hijikata-san happened to chance upon me. I believe I would have dropped dead from embarrassment had I not noticed he was at that point in time eating a plate of my sister's (whom I do not love as a sister) famous red-bean mochi.

That is not to say that seeing your superior eating red-bean mochi makes things less embarrassing; it just makes things easier on you, given your superior is bound to be in a good, or in Hijikata-san's case, better mood. Thus, I must confess I took advantage of that fact to try to dispel his anger.

Unfortunately for me, the first thing that came out of my mouth when he demanded to know what I was doing was "Sunbathing, sir". Fortunately, I had Okita-san's brilliant technique to fall back on.

Admittedly, instead of calming down as I expected him to, Hijikata-san ended up running out of the compound, screaming something along the lines of "I'm seeing Souji everywhere". Nonetheless, that does not refute the fact that I was saved from a grisly murder.

Of course, now, I am under Kondou-san's orders to go hunt down Hijikata-san because he has been missing for more than half the day. That is fine by me because I am aware of all of Hijikata-san's usual haunts, as the need to locate him rapidly might arise.

On the other hand, I never did expect to find him in a ditch…

If you are reading this, dear sister (whom I do not treat as a sister), that is not one of Hijikata-san's usual haunts, so please do not accuse him of frequenting such places.

Daily observation of blood: Blood is brown when dry.

Day Fourteen

By luck, and Hijikata-san's inability to form a coherent sentence, I have been granted a day off today. While I do not rejoice in leisure, as the only reason for my existence is in being a shinobi, I do appreciate the spare time as it would allow me to get rid of the remaining pink paint that I have failed to get rid of the previous day.

My sister (whom I do not recognize as my sister) presented me with a kind of liquid which proved highly efficient in removing the pink from my nails. While I appreciate that move (as much as a non-entity without emotions can), I wish she would have given the liquid to me earlier, say before I took to scraping the paint off my nails with a dagger.

On a more solemn note, today I noted Okita-san slipping something into Harada-san's supper. When I questioned him about it, he skillfully diverted the question by asking me what Saitou-san had meant when he had told me, "You have a pink aura about you, Yamazaki-kun." While I profess to be a shinobi of some skill, I am, unfortunately, not as well versed in the Art of Distraction of Captain Okita Souji. Thus, I am ashamed to say that I was successfully thrown off topic, and left standing alone on the corridor, muttering obscenities about hormonal kunoichi.

Not that any of the above actions are an emotional response to any sort of comment or question by any of the Shinsengumi captains, of course.

At any rate, this action has led me to suspect that Okita Souji might be plotting to assassinate one Harada Sanosuke. Thus, I found it necessary to investigate the contents of Harada-san's supper, using the Yamazaki Taste Test, a well known shinobi technique passed down through generations, and finally perfected by Yamazaki Ayumu. Much to my surprise, the only foreign substance in Harada-san's supper was a rather small portion of stale herbs, specifically the kind used to cure insanity.

Perhaps then my assessment was wrong, and Okita-san wasn't trying to kill Harada-san, but trying to cure him of his perpetual insanity.

Daily observation of blood: Blood is… liquid. Have I done this one before?

Day Fifteen

Something odd is going on today. The Shinsengumi Headquarters kept getting deliveries of chrysanthemums, condolences and pamphlets from the Kyoto Anti-Abuse-of-Cute-Guys Association, specifically, for Okita-san. And that Hotaru kunoichi from Masuya appeared at the doorway, squealing and sobbing something about 'Poor Okita-sama! Why do all the cute men have such tragic pasts?' into my yukata, thus re-opening my wound again.

It took three of our strongest men to detach her from my clothes without compromising my modesty or causing any physical damage to her.

To add on to the bewilderment, Okita-san returned from patrol with several wreaths of chrysanthemums, a haori with the shoulders rubbed thin from sympathetic pats and a very confused look on his face.

Needless to say, it didn't take very long for Kondou-san to order me to go and find out what is going on.

Well… 'order' is perhaps, not the best term to use. Hijikata-san orders, as in 'Go check out Masuya' or 'Get a new perfume; that one your Osen uses is penetrative enough to flood the whole Shinsengumi Headquarters, giving the Choshu rebels sufficient reason to suspect you are a Shinsengumi Watcher'. Kondou-san, on the other hand, requests, as in 'Ah, Yamazaki-kun, it's a lovely day today isn't it? Um… good day for a walk, don't you think? So… um… could you be so nice as to take a walk around and um… find out what's going on with all these flowers and everything? Not that you have to go if you don't want to, but if you're free and Toshi doesn't have anything else for you to do…'

You get my point.

Thus, I am about to don my newest disguise and head out into town to gather information. Unfortunately for me, after discarding my Osen-wig, the only wig I could make at such short notice was one with twin pigtails. As such, my new disguise is a shy teenage girl called… hmm… I suppose something like Yuki is as good a name as any.

Day Sixteen

The reputation of the Shinsengumi is in rambles. On the streets, I discovered that apparently someone has started the rumour that Okita Souji is Hijikata Toshizou's illegitimate son. Alas, the tragedy! Hijikata-san has been shamed for life! He will have to commit seppuku, and the Shinsengumi shall collapse without a great leader leading us!

So why on earth did Okita-san and Kondou-san start laughing when I reported this tragic news to them? Can they not see that the end is near?

Well… perhaps not really, given that everyone in Kyoto knows that if your daughter or sister has hung out at any length with Hijikata-san, there is a very large chance that she has been deflowered… probably several times already.

But surely… that does not justify them laughing… or Okita-san running around trying to coax everyone into calling Hijikata-san 'Daddy'. Even my sister (whom I will never, ever think of as a sister) agreed to shelter anyone who gets threatened by Hijikata-san. I know she's serious; she sent that… thing to the market to buy two large sacks of potatoes and two gallons of sunflower oil.

I don't know what I will do with them, really.

Oh… actually, I do.

I will have to defend them from Hijikata-san's wrath should he wake up to them calling him 'Daddy'.

Daily observation of blood: Everyone has blood in them.

Day Seventeen

I knew it. I knew it all along. Not that I mean to sound like a snobbish know-it-all, but how difficult can it be to predict that Hijikata-san will come tearing after you with a katana in hand should you choose to call him 'Daddy'?

Admittedly, Hijikata-san's first reaction to being called 'Daddy' by Okita-san, Nagakura-san, Harada-san and Todou-san was, "Oh god, I'm in hell. Just don't tell me who the mother is." It is also arguable that if Okita-san hadn't said, "Yamanami-san is our Mummy", Hijikata-san might not have been enraged enough to leap out of bed and chase after said captain with his katana in hand.

Nonetheless, that does not deny the fact that calling the demon vice-commander 'Daddy' is not a very intelligent thing to do.

This is, of course, proven by the fact that Okita-san is currently hiding in one of my many hiding places beneath the floorboard, and why the other three are hiding in the kitchen under the protection of my traitorous sister (who I will never think of as a sister).

Was.

I mean, Okita-san was hiding in one of my many hiding places under the floorboards.

Apparently, Hijikata-san has noticed me trying to sneak a little dinner to Okita-san, by request of my sister (who I do not… ah, you get my point). He's… currently proceeding towards me… and Okita-san is out of his hiding place and running.

I think it is about time I stop writing and try to think of a way to save myself.

Fast.

I meant, try to think of a way to save myself fast.

I'm blabbering nervously.

Not that I am ever nervous, because nervousness is an emotion and I do not have any emotions.

And Hijikata-san's just five feet away.

I guess it's too late to start thinking now.

If that's the case…

My sister (who I will never love as a sister), if you happen to find this diary, take note that the below request is my will.

Burn all my belongings; never will you get your hands on my Kyoto-Ladies' Cosmetic Spring Collection.

Day Eighteen

I am fine. Yes, I am fine. Incredible as it may be, I have survived Hijikata-san's wrath with all my body parts intact. Currently, I am still trying to figure out how I managed to pull it off.

Technically, I suppose the element of surprise was on my side; I don't think Hijikata-san has ever seen me behave like… that at all. It must have been the terror at seeing the Demon marching up to me with a katana, because my Yuki persona just slipped in, and I ended up clutching the front of my yukata and whimpering in a squeaky voice about abusive fathers, unloving mothers and cruel siblings, and telling him seppuku is the easy way out for me.

I believe that when Hijikata-san turned away, his eyes were wetter than usual.

Of course, it could have been because he was still feverish and partially delirious.

Unfortunately for my master, he's encounter with the other demon in the Shinsengumi did not... go off so well.

It is a well known fact that once Okita-san goes into 'demon' mode, the only person who can stop him without causing any damage to anything more important than a shinai or bokken is Hijikata-san. And, when the person he is beating up is Hijikata-san, there is no one on earth who can stop him.

The only thing we could do was stand at the sidelines and wait for Okita-san to regain his senses.

Even though Okita-san is generally a rather forgiving man, apparently the humiliation of being addressed as, "You pig-carrying, candy-eating, white yukata-wearing girl" was just a little too much for him, and even after regaining his senses and observing his handiwork, he stubbornly refused to make up for his 'treason against the Shinsengumi' by taking Hijikata-san to the clinic.

Saitou-san was volunteered by Okita-san, but when the third captain kept smiling and mumbling, "There's a dark shadow floating around… yes, floating around Hijikata-san… floating like an eagle hunting it's prey… oh yes…", Kondou-san decided that it would be better if I was the one who accompanied Hijikata-san to the doctor's.

Fortunately for me, when the doctor asked me why I was in the Shinsengumi, I managed to refrain myself from telling him, "Because I am a demon's child". The phrase was at the tip of my tongue, because it gained popularity among the ranks ever since the men from the First Unit witnessed Okita-san throwing it at an enemy before walking off into the darkness among the swirls of sakura leaf petals. It was such an inspiration scene everyone started calling themselves demon's child.

That is, of course, not to say I am the kind of person who follows any fad or fashion that pops out; I just happened to catch sight of that particular scene and… it seemed like a really… cool… I mean… appropriate line to say when questioned about your motives for joining the Miburo.

I also had to make up a story on the spot to explain how Hijikata-san got injured. Telling a gossip the demon vice-commander got beat up by the demon captain is just not good for the reputation of the Shinsengumi. Fortunately, I am rather well-trained in the art of impromptu story-telling, and thus I managed to come up with a credible story.

Let's just say it involves haiku books, potatoes and a sheer drop off a cliff.

Daily observation of blood: Don't let blood dry in your hair unless you own some of the best washing liquid in Kyoto.

Day Nineteen

Today, Hijikata-san is even more delirious, if that is even possible, which, of course, means that my life has just taken a turn for the worst.

Anyone who has taken care of Hijikata-san when he is sick would know what I'm talking about. The demon makes the worst patient a doctor or healer has to deal with. He refuses to eat his medicine, refuses to stop smoking, refuses to stop working (even if he is incapable of sitting up), refuses to wear a jacket and refuses to do just about anything the doctor suggests he do.

Unfortunately for us, the only person who can deal with a sick Hijikata-san had decided to take a day off to search for somebody (he did not specify who; the highest bets now go to the new geisha down at the Sakura Lantern Pleasure House, but I think Kondou-san's bet is more accurate: Okita-san is probably looking for more pigs to add to his collection). Thus the task of force-feeding Hijikata-san his medication fell to me and that… thing.

This is the first and last time I'm getting into a wrestling match with a man a head and a half taller, and probably two times heavier than I am.

In the end, we managed to get the medicine down his throat, not so much because I was holding him down, but because Hijikata-san was too busy trying to break my spine to realize what he was swallowing wasn't tea.

I never knew Hijikata-san was well-versed in the art of sumo-wrestling until today. His technique and stance are good, much better than his technique and stance for sword-fighting.

Of course, that did not bode well for me, which would explain why I'm doing my Diary Writing Hour lying down on my stomach, with my sister (whom I do not treat as my sister) stepping up and down my back in an effort to relocate it.

That, I can bear with, because extreme pain usually triumphs over pride. But I really do not understand why that… thing has to sit in my room and recite to me the wonderful qualities of one of Saizou's female relations. He tells me it is by order of Okita-san; I suspect he's lying.

But who can tell with the demon captain?

Daily observation of blood: Blood is… named 'blood'…

Day Twenty

Well, well, well; it seems that this Yamazaki Susumu is getting quite good at doing his Diary Writing Hour in the strangest of places. My current position is on the top of one of the sakura trees that grace the Shinsengumi compound. Admittedly, there would be much aesthetic value in the picture of a shinobi high up in a sakura tree that is in full bloom. Unfortunately, this shinobi is wearing a pink kimono (without a wig or make-up), and the sakura tree isn't in full bloom, thus the only value this picture has is entertainment value.

As luck would have it, there is no one around to enjoy the sight of a cross-dresser stuck up in a wilting tree, still struggling to write legibly in his diary. That would be because Hijikata-san is currently stomping around the headquarters with his sword, looking like he's ready to murder the first person he chances on. Thus, anyone with any excuse for a brain is currently hiding.

Given that, it would seem ridiculous for me to hide up in a sakura tree in full sight of half of the headquarters, but that cannot be helped. Everyone else has occupied all my hiding places.

Not that my death matters now, anyway; the Shinsengumi is obviously coming to and end.

Oh wait… oh my; Saitou-san, Ichimura (both of them) and Okita-san have all suddenly erupted from one of my hiding places. I do not know what is going on, but Okita-san is waving a floorboard at the other three, who are busy running for their lives.

Or rather, the Ichimura brothers are busy running for their lives, while Saitou-san is busy saying a swift prayer and running for his life.

They are going to get killed; either way, there are going to get killed. Okita-san's coming up from behind, and Hijikata-san is coming towards them.

Oh well, if their deaths manage to pacify both demons and save the Shinsengumi from ruin, then why not?

Daily observation for blood: Blood is… ah hell, who cares about blood when you've got a firsthand view of a very irritating page about to be slaughtered?

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