A/N: Heeeey everyone! How've you been, how's it going? Here summer is supposed to be ending, but no one told the weather that. That's fine, I can still wear short sleeves; but I work damn it, I can't go to the beach! Why do this to me? Huh; sorry about that. Let's get on with the story.
Your weekly update is here, as scheduled. This chapter is such a tease; it also went away from me, took its own little course and ended up where you see it. No matter, it's a good place, you'll like it. So, brace yourselves for another long chapter and leave a review on your way out to tell me what you thought. Also, I realised I had to incorporate Saitou's technique and though I have eluded to it in the past, it is about time he started concentrating on it! That and the mysterious Shinsengumi killer, whoever that ever may be.
No real historical facts this once, it's pure fiction but here is one fun fact: Yamaguchi, later Saitou Hajime had an older sister and an older brother, so he wasn't the first child; but they say he was born on the first day of the year, hence the name. And like I already mentioned, up till the Meiji Restoration, where they synched up with the Gregorian calendar, the Japanese used the lunar one, so it was definitely possible the New Year was on the 18th of February, Saitou's birth date.
Timeline: January - February 1864.
A fine lady...
...and reunions.
.
.
Saitou had pocketed the letter with the drawing; this one, too joined the collection next to that tuff of hair and after it was carefully positioned in a way that best complimented the picture, he decided to take off his travel outfit and don the one of training; he didn't really have much to do, other than that big mess that came up on his trip, and he wanted to blow off some steam.
"Tell the others to come spar with us," he said without even turning.
He hadn't heard him per se, but he could tell someone was there, watching him and of course it was Okita, who simply lit up at the mention of those words. "We haven't fought together in a long time so this will be good! We'll get to see how much you've changed, hm?"
"Show me how much you've improved first and then be smart with me, will ya?"
"We shall not disappoint you, my overachieving friend."
And they didn't; none of them. While Saitou had gained more worldly experience, cumulating other sort of methods and strength, his friends developed their techniques even more. They were evenly matched, for the most part; Nagakura was a little weaker while Harada, a strength behemoth much like him, lacked in refinement—there was only so much you can do with a spear. Okita on the other hand…he was a thing to behold. His speed only increased, if possible, while he had worked a good deal on his strength. There was a very, very small opening to get to him and land the decisive blow, his technique on his speed keeping up with raw ability and Saitou felt jealous.
He hadn't worked on a personal technique at all. He had indeed developed his own style of the vice commander's Hiratsuki but he had never taken it further than that, to name it or work more than just that. But Okita had developed this three-piece-thrust, Sandanzuki as he had called it, that was quite lethal once it connected. Of course, he hadn't patrolled with him in forever so he couldn't see it in action; and no matter how effective, training was training, no real injuries occurred. But one stab to the throat, to the left and then the right shoulder, sounded formidable.
Either due to work or what have you, he had fallen behind. And that was, in his eyes, unacceptable.
Once they had finished their bath – Saitou noticed he wasn't the only one who had actually started using bath salts, like Tokio had once advised them – he left to isolate himself in his room, requesting nothing but not to be disturbed until it was time to be sent on patrol the next day. He would sit his ass down and think hard on this technique matter; he would have come up with something viable before they left for their trip to Aizu, he swore to himself, and sat on the floor to meditate.
Time to treat this matter with the respect it deserves.
And that's exactly what he did…to an extreme. Spurred on by his competitiveness, challenged by the ever-present, ever-teasing Okita who was only getting better and threatened to leave him behind, encouraged by the equally overachieving vice commander, he ate, breathed and slept new technique, sprinkled with search of the mysterious killer that wiped out half a unit worth of Shinsengumi men by now, spies and others not counting.
All of these, of course, happened when he wasn't patrolling. Well, he wasn't patrolling every hour of every day, he had ample time to do all he wanted. And in an effort to boost his morale and centre him even more, Hijikata even went as far as to assign him with Okita on exclusively night patrols, so they could train together in the day and do their rounds during the night. It was no secret these two were considered the most lethal and dangerous swordsmen within the Shinsengumi after all, thus why not use them as a deterrent – or even better, as bait – for the spies and delinquents of all sorts?
And just like that, Saitou had established his routine in only two days: wake up four hours after going to sleep – that he found was the ideal amount of time to get proper rest yet have more hours in the day at your disposal – meditate for half an hour to train the spirit, work on his kata for an hour to train the body and then practise on his own for another, before Okita entered and they trained for as long as they thought needed. Then they'd eat their food, rest and maybe train a little more. They'd have a break of some hours – which Saitou used them to uncover the identity of the most dangerous Chousuu man to date – before finally starting to get ready for their patrols.
It was a taxing schedule. But Saitou thrived under pressure. It was him at his best! He had already found the form of his technique and the general picture had started taking shape in his mind. He had remembered how, when Tokio was at the hot springs with Sa-chan, he had used his hand to pin point the exact location of his strike, using his own sword as a ruler of distance; the same he used again when those bandits had come for them. It was interesting to think back on it now, for it showed he only used that move when he felt he was truly threatened, or needed to dispatch enemies quickly.
But he was a Shinsengumi; he would always need to dispatch people quickly. So maybe he should try cultivating that certain move, which, combined with Hijikata's Hiratsuki had proved all the deadlier. It most positively struck fear in the opponent; his speed was to be envied even by the most skilled swordsmen of the land and Hijikata's technique as lethal as they come. If he added his own twist to that, with his hand in front of the blade for better aim, it could become a force to be reckoned with!
That was the first thought he had; ever since, he'd been training with that in mind, hoping to ingrain the move into his body, to do it instinctively. And if he mastered that one, he could do variations; he could-…no. He was getting ahead of himself. He still had to master this new move; only after that was done and over with would he think of an alternative or the next stage or whatnot. He had to be patient and smart, even if his head was bursting with ideas and the possibilities!
So he disciplined himself by doing the very same kata every single day, training with Okita using that one move all the time whenever it was feasible, to condition his brain, his body, his subconscious. And for the most part, ten days later, it seemed to be working.
"Hijikata-san," they both bowed as the vice commander entered the dojo "have you come to watch us train?"
"Even better than that." He smirked. "I'll join you." Looks of excitement were shared by the men. "I am dying to see how that new move of yours has developed so far."
"Oh hoho; you'll love it, Hijikata-san! Saitou has been working overtime, it shows, even if it's only been a couple of weeks."
Hijikata shook his head. "Enough talking."
He relaxed his shoulders and stood perfectly still in front of both. Oh, how interesting. Hijikata was going for a quick-draw. Not a bad choice—the best maybe, at least now that he still doesn't know of Saitou's technique. And since his speed is infamous, it makes sense Hijikata would want to deal with it by using one of the quickest moves he could. He was not called the genius demon chief without cause.
Saitou drew his sword and took his new stance; Okita stood to the side; Hijikata exhaled. That was the signal; Saitou took off! He pushed off the ground and reached his opponent in a glimpse. Hijikata drew his sword in the nick of time to avoid getting impaled but the man's strength was too much to take head on, so he twisted his hand and his blade to shake off the brunt of the hit.
But the motion never stopped; he made a full circle and came back to stop Saitou's thrust that had now turned into a slash immediately. That's what he got for teaching them his techniques—he got a nick on his shoulder! He instinctively switched to offence, sliding off his blade the sword of his opponent and going for the kill! Saitou's arms were longer than his and unlike last time, this once he made better use of them—and that damned hand aiming at him was awfully inconveniencing! When did he have time to jump into his new stance again anyway?
Thus, he had no time to attack and deflected again; and again; he jumped back and down—he was nearly cut! When the hell had Saitou gotten so fast that Hijikata needed to evade repeatedly?
Yet, he smirked, causing Saitou alarm; with a kick for good measure, despite never connecting, he pulled back to watch the man make his next move. If he was being pushed this much and still had time to smirk, he worried. Putting himself in a more of a defensive mindset, he took his new stance again.
But that was when Hijikata relented. He sheathed his sword and put his hands in his sleeves, to better show the ceasefire.
Saitou felt underwhelmed as he sheathed his own sword.
"Your progress has far exceeded my expectations," he finally spoke, the smirk never fading. "I am impressed; that is one hell of a move. So, keep up the good work."
Both men were taken aback but it was Okita who put it in words. "That's it?"
He nodded. "I know what I said but I don't really have the time; I can only offer you advice."
Saitou nodded; he'd love some advice to be honest, especially from Hijikata. Okita was a genius with the sword so when he developed his Sandanzuki, he hadn't really put much thought into it, nor did he realise he had done that until someone mentioned it—only then did he name it. But he wasn't like that; he was like their vice commander.
"Don't stop repeating it until the technique is solid in your mind and form; keep thinking of ways to incorporate it more in your everyday duties at patrol; when you think you have finally mastered it, that's when you have to keep going a little bit more. Keep your elbow high at all times. And put more effort into your footwork—it's already excellent, but that move needs it to be above and beyond perfect, so you have some ways to go. Strengthen your leg muscles as much as you can basically."
"Yes sir."
"And if you master this one…I think I can help you with variations on it. If you don't think of them on your own that is."
Like a child on his birthday, his eyes shone in a very innocent and almost heart-warming way, if one put to the side they were talking about lethal sword techniques. They nodded to one another and Hijikata left. Okita clapped him on the back excited at the same time!
"See? I told you, you were on the right track! Well done Saitou-san."
He spared him a look. "Your insight, though well-meaning isn't helpful."
Okita hummed low, looking at him with the edge of his eyes. "You just wanted to be complimented by Hijikata-san." Saitou pretended he had no idea what he was talking about. "Play dumb as much as you want, Saitou-kun."
The glare was lethal; the attack that followed dangerous. But Okita brushed both off with ease and just like that, they began their next spar.
It wasn't even half a week after that they decided they should actually leave; the trip to Aizu would take some days, Matsudaira had warned and he would not want to miss a single day from the festivities. At least, the big ones; the small ones had already begun and they were great, too but nearly as entertaining. "You have to be there before the end of the moth to fully appreciate them," the Aizu-han had wisely informed "but we'll be there for just a week."
And that seemed to both excite and sadden him; he would have wanted to spend more days at his residence – where they'd be staying, apparently – but he was just too happy to be back in his hometown for such a celebration. He would not stop talking about it to anyone who was willing to listen in fact.
So, there was Matsudaira…and then there was Saitou. He would watch his comrades talk about it between themselves with a smile on their faces, in hushed tones that betrayed excitement, while Okita had pretty much abandoned all tact and straight up shouted things ever since they had found out. Saitou had quite successfully managed to block it all out in favour of his training this half month. He could even go so far as to say…he had nearly forgotten about it. Honestly, his work had pretty much consumed him—which was his exact purpose since the moment he set that hectic schedule for himself. And though he was not closer to finding the name of the assassin who littered the streets and polluted Kyoto, he managed to narrow it down to "young man".
So, he couldn't be older than him. That was at least a clue, right? Hijikata had even commended him for it.
But as the days to their departure dwindled in single digits, they became even more vocal, reminding him of the fact almost daily; and when they could be counted with the fingers of only one hand, pretty much thought of anything else had gone out of the window for everyone. The commanders were preoccupied with preparations for the journey and other comings and goings; the guys would make wild speculations about the place they were about to stay and how pretty all the Aizu women would be; no wonder Tokio was so beautiful, they'd comment then, since she was a true Aizu woman. Okita would annoyingly throw other sort of comments in, too and only made it worse.
But he…he remained deathly silent. At first, he didn't care to say anything; considering that everyone knew about his efforts on developing his own technique, they left him alone, too. But as they reached three days to leave, they actively sought him out to share his insights, thinking him the "expert" in all matters that had to do with Tokio and her father. He had saved her a dozen of times after all; they had spent many tense minutes and maybe hours together that the others didn't.
But Saitou did not dare say a word.
All the things that stirred and mingled at the pit of his stomach, burning at his throat, felt too personal. Although he had not spent a single consecutive minute thinking about her before, now it was pretty much all he could see and hear everywhere and that only built up his deeply buried emotions, bringing them back to the surface. She had been gone for almost four months. Four months. That was a very long time, it felt ominous. He was uneasy, too. So many things could happen during four long months—his fortune so far prove it.
On the other hand, she was gone for so long, yet it felt like it was only just yesterday he'd seen her in the middle of the night, telling him she was leaving. It was crazy: he both felt it was too long ago or not a day that had passed since. When he really stopped to think about it, he knew what was at fault. Her letters. The drawings were very realistic, made him look through her eyes, show him what she saw and how; the words told him what she was up to, how she'd been.
Her words; not her herself. He hadn't seen her in person for such a long time. Somehow, it felt…empty. He did so many things, accomplished even more; but it left an odd taste of purposelessness. Yes, he felt proud; he was praised and that wasn't bad either, but. But. There was always a "but" in there and for the longest of times he couldn't understand why. Until Nagakura asked him, two days left before they left, "what are you most excited about Saitou-san?" and the very first thing he thought of was her.
When he realised, he took a long moment. Then he answered, as convincingly as he could "I have heard Aizu's hot springs are scenic; a bit far but worth the trip" and thankfully they started gushing about how they were so lucky to be invited and how Matsudaira-sama himself praised Aizu's beauty and the conversation's focus shifted from his opinion to the trip itself. He literally reevaluated a lot of things in that one moment, such as his relationship with Tokio.
Could it be he…missed her?
It hit him like a brick! At the same time, he felt like he could finally breathe properly. That was the indisputable truth: he wanted to see her again; he was most excited about meeting with her again after such a long time. So, did that mean he missed her? Of course, what else could it mean. He must have been in a special sort of state not to realise it earlier.
But why would he miss her?
To that he found difficult to come up with a satisfying answer. He wasn't her lover; he wasn't a relative; they weren't childhood friends; he wasn't even a real friend. Then why? Hm, maybe he had to work backwards and find out what he was to figure it out. He stopped to think. What was he?
Used to her, a little voice in his head told him with pride, you're used to her. But now she's gone and your routine left with her and he was upset about it. He'd already admitted he liked her company; so, if she weren't there, it was a loss of sorts, he didn't have a person to tease, share stories and time. The fact she was gone had impacted him so much because, in actuality, her absence did impact him in real life. Could it be, he had started looking forward to their little meetings, it pumped him full of adrenaline, too. But now all of that had stopped and it messed with him.
Unbelievable; miles away and that girl was still impacting his chemistry; he'll complain when he meets her for sure. Which better be sooner rather than later because he couldn't handle Hijikata's passing glares, meaningful stares and raised eyebrows for much longer, or Okita's teasing smiles.
Or the sheer distance between them.
It was only four days' worth the journey from Kyoto to Aizu and that included breaks as well as overnight stays at inns to accommodate the Aizu-han and his wives. Four days! Yet she took more than two weeks approximately, what was she thinking. No wonder the guards were unhappy and troubled. Keeping an eye on six women was very difficult when you had to look out for everything else in the process. He and the rest of the Shinsengumi – with the exception of Kondou who acted both as Matsudaira's guest and the one leading them – had only three to take care of while looking out for potential attacks and it was still tiresome.
And they only took four days.
Four.
He had so much to complain about, when given the chance, it wasn't even funny. She said they took detours, said they were sight-seeing along the way, said Teruhime-sama made the guard's lives difficult, causing her to act as countermeasure…she even admitted they were attacked by bandits.
When their small unit reached the outskirts of a certain forest along the way, Hijikata turned to look at Saitou meaningfully. He took that as his cue and approached with his horse. Okita did the same, even if no one had invited him.
"What is it, demon vice chief? You think you'll find your ilk in there?"
The whack on his head was immediate. "This is the place where Sagara Souzou operates."
Saitou's eyes became small; Okita didn't seem to recognise the name though. "Who is that Hijikata-san?"
"Don't play dumb; you read her letter, too didn't you? And it's demon vice chief to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Okita admitted through chuckles.
"Her le-" The moment Hijikata was about to explain, Nagakura and Harada approached, followed by Takeda. He stopped talking altogether.
"What's happening Hijikata-san?" Nagakura was the first to ask.
"Is there a reason we are stopping before treading into the woods?"
"Matsudaira-sama and Kondou-sama would like to know as soon as possible."
Takeda's attitude made all glare; he tried to play it cool, but they saw it affected him and thus they were pleased. Only then did Hijikata answer. "There is an anti-shogunate samurai active in these woods; he doesn't attack our men or men adjacent to our cause, but he has expressed such sentiments. He simply rescues travellers in need. But…this is the first time such a big player will enter his territory. I don't know how he'll react."
All heads lowered in deep concentration.
Nagakura pushed his glasses up his nose and cleared his throat. "He knows who we have in the carriage?"
Hijikata considered. "It's possible. News of Matsudaira's departure from Kyoto must have made a splash; it's no stretch to think they know where he's headed. And if our destination is Aizu, we are bound to pass through here."
"He won't attack, he wouldn't dare; but even if he did, we can push him back," Saitou stated confidently. "We did it before without a carriage, only three people and a person who was openly targeted and we had to protect no matter what. If he attacks, he wouldn't dare hurt the wives and consequently Matsudaira-sama who's in there with them."
"He's not wrong," Okita supported "we kept Tokio-chan safe successfully just the three of us! This won't be too different…"
Hijikata had something else to say though. "They will be better armed and led; we can't risk it. we'll go around it."
"We're better armed and led, too—don't think too much about it," Okita insisted.
But it was the most unlikely person, Takeda, to decide this stalemate. "Besides, what will people think if they find out the great Matsudaira-sama, escorted by the leaders of Shinsengumi themselves, decided to avoid instead of facing a potential threat?"
He started thinking, concentrating on the ground way too hard. "Go ask Kondou-san; tell him my opinion and then yours, see what he prefers."
Takeda didn't have to be told twice; and when he returned, a minute later, looking at their vice commander with raised eyebrows, a small smirk and an over inflated head, they knew what Kondou's decision was without hearing it. Even if Takeda informed them of it anyway, all while keeping his neck craned and his shoulders lowered in an effort to appear taller than he was.
Then the bastard proceeded to go stand directly next to the carriage's open window and chat with its occupants. Somehow, all four men, despite getting what they wanted, were in a worse mood than if they were denied…while their commander pretty much wanted to kill himself, or Kondou-san, or even better, Takeda for putting all of them through this idiocy. Hijikata of course knew the importance of keeping up appearances. How many knew about this though anyway and how would anyone know about it later unless someone, someone like Takeda, talked about it? Hijikata shook his head defeated.
"Okita, I want you with me at the front; Saitou and Nagakura, you're guarding the rear. Harada, Takeda, you are the flanks. Buddha help us."
Because if an entire unit comes up to them, led by a – from what he realised – capable man, all on horses, he had no idea what they could do. But, they would be put to some sort of test regardless, it seems, as fate decided to cross their paths.
It had barely been an hour that they heard commotion; it was northeast, hardly taking them off course. They knew they had to investigate further but the thought of "what if this is a trap" was born in everyone's mind at the same time. Takeda took it the worst, which was quite ironic – and satisfying – considering he was the one who lobbied for it the most, but Hijikata decided to make it even worse, as his own personal revenge.
They looked between themselves before the commander finally said "we should someone to find out what's happening," staring at Takeda.
"Y-you are quite right, Hijikata-san. We should definitely send one of the men-"
"You are one of the men, too, Kanryuusai-san," Okita gleefully reminded, smile big as ever.
They tried not to laugh at the look of pure horror on his face. Hijikata truly was a sadist, Saitou decided, yet as fun as it was to watch Takeda squirm, he had to step in and take responsibility. "Be that as it may, I suggest I go; I have the fastest horse and best reflexes and other than Harada, I can throw a spear better than the rest of you."
That was true. "So be it," he answered and nodded immediately – though a little reluctant, for Takeda's relief was too annoying to the vice commander –. "Take this with you, in case you need help." He threw him the flare he always had on him. "If used, we have ten more."
He didn't even reply, he simply pulled the reigns of the horse and was gone.
Saitou didn't have to ride for more than five minutes to spot the trouble, but what he came across was disconcerting: in a small clearing, able to hold no more than twenty men, two sides were battling it out, numbers exceeding forty people still standing. There was a band of thieves engaged in combat with a band of…warriors, in lack of better words. Blood littered the already treaded snow, stains on the blades; men were lying on the ground, most of them from the bandits' side. He knew they were outlaws because of their weapons and no shred of discipline, as they fell on the swords or fell the from arrows of the opposing party.
Which party was well organised and numbered…twenty-four men, excluding five – probably – dead, after a quick count. Saitou did the math in his head; five of them, maybe six if Kondou decided to join, never counting Takeda; twenty-four, maybe twenty-three by the time this fight is over, for the opposing side. Last time he had worse chances, but he finally realised what Hijikata meant about the "well-led" part. The man that ordered the unit that tried to exterminate the thieves was…gifted.
Curiously, he had short hair but long bangs that covered his eyes—how could he lead effectively if he couldn't even see? And yet, he did. He wasn't even wearing traditional Japanese clothes, too, but some sort of western-influenced uniform, in red and blues.
Saitou felt annoyed. Weren't the ones opposing the shogun the ones who wanted nothing with the westerners? What is this?
Personal sentiments aside, the best tactic would be for them to attack right after this battle is over; the men's stamina will be significantly shortened, their morale would take a heavy blow and the Shinsengumi's success rate would be higher—less injuries, too. they were travelling after all, being as healthy as possible was the objective. If it were up to him, if he was being honest, he would rather he attacked the man leading them right now, kill him in the confusion, but that maybe created more problems than it solved so he refrained…
But that is, only if these men decided to go on the offensive. There was still a chance to talk this out. How? They could help them. what person turns around and attacks the person who just helped them out of a bad situation? Plus, if they managed to flaunt a little while helping, they could cause the leader to be more cautious.
Alright, he made up his mind. He'd go tell Hijikata to help. This was probably this Sagara Souzou guy with his unit – accounts of his good looks were, sadly, not exaggerated – but his idea had merit. In five more minutes, he reported to Hijikata. In another five, all five of them had arrived at the mini battlefield. As expected, the thieves were tenacious bastards that would simply not stay down, no matter how many times they were knocked back. And now Hijikata had to make a choice.
A second passed; one man was injured. Another; a thief was wounded. A third; blood spilled from a man's neck. He grabbed the reigns with a very serious face and looked at his men.
"There are thieves in this area; we represent the law. You know what to do."
To emphasise his statement, Hijikata drew his sword.
The men's moral exploded! If Hijikata was joining a fight, it was one worth to give. Sly and encouraging looks were exchanged in a split second; the rest of it, they rode through the trees! But the rest drew their swords only after they became visible to the thieves, signified by the throw of Harada's spear. For those torturing moments until it connected, everyone that was not them, watched the trajectory of the projectile with agonising dread. Would it hit a bandit? Would it hit another? Would it land on the ground? But when it pierced through a bandit's gut, coming cleanly out the other side, the probable Sagara unit yelled excited, with the leader himself initiating the cry!
At the same time, the thieves started swearing, panicking and falling in a bigger state of disarray than before. They scrambled to form two fronts to face both at the same time, but it was hopeless; a doomed effort, if Saitou ever saw one. He swung his sword and a man was falling to his knees with a gaping chest wound; he swung for the second time and the same man had a similar wound to the back. By the time he hit the ground, Okita had finished him off riding behind Saitou.
"Easy pickings," the short man exclaimed as he dislodged his sword from a throat! "Give me something harder, Saitou-san."
"Race you to the other side then."
"Are you two having fun without me again?" Harada interjected, pulling his spear out of the man it had hit and decapitating another as his horse kept galloping "so typical."
Nagakura simply passed by them, saying "the one who kills the least, buys the drinks," as he flicked his sword clean. "I'm on number three already."
They shared a short moment of shock; then they all fell into the fray harder than ever.
It took them barely ten minutes and mostly because the little bastards kept trying to run away. But the Shinsengumi recruits were fast and determined. If they had remained on their horses, it wouldn't have been as time-consuming but damn it all to hell, Hijikata had looked so effortless as he smoothly jumped off the horse to stab the what appeared to be leader of the bandits and they couldn't help it! Blood sprayed in a small fountain as he had pulled out the sword, contrasted with the vice commander's casual look, it was too…cool.
Thus, they all followed suit.
Prompted by the new arrivals, the already established fighting force took heart and did its best, as well; the leader shouted more commands, they reloaded arrows faster; the ones at the front slashed quicker! And it all led to one outcome: every single one of the bandits was lying on the cold hard ground dead.
"Good work," Hijikata complimented; no injuries on his men with the least amount of effort possible, couldn't ask for more. "Could have saved the chatter."
"It wasn't chatter Hijikata-san, it was pep-talk!" Okita commented brightly, as he wiped the blood off of his blade.
"Is that what you call making plans for tomorrow?"
"Yes!"
Saitou shook his head as he pulled his sword out of a man. "The last one just expired." The "just expired" part meant he just made sure to stab his throat.
"One's drink is important Hijikata-san," Harada interjected "even Nagakura knows that."
"Who pours it for you is more important," Nagakura stated absolute, fixing his glasses for the umpteenth time.
Harada's eyebrows went up and down as he started elbowing Okita. "Which is why the moment we get to Aizu, I'll have Tokio-san promise to do it for me at least once."
Three things happened then that Saitou thought never would: Okita actually jumped to shut his friend's mouth; Hijikata looked at the tallest man of his group keenly; and Saitou felt his hand twitch over the hilt of his blade. For a tiny teeny second, he had all but forgotten about the Sagara unit, instead of pretending to and nearly cussed out Harada!
Who, the moment he managed to get the little monkey off of him protested. "Okita, what are you doing?"
"Don't say things like this Harada-san, it's dangerous!"
"Why is it dangerous?"
"…because Hijikata-san is listening."
No; because Saitou was listening. Nagakura seemed to instinctively understand that and looked at his friend instead of his commander, only to find the oddest look of reprehension and anger on his face. Hijikata on the other hand was simply staring at Saitou. Thankfully, Harada hadn't caught on in the slightest.
"You said Tokio…as in Takagi Tokio?"
Oh yeah, they existed; they did forget. But what a way to remind them—everyone went in full alert while Saitou was ready to draw his sword once more. The man raised his hands in surrender. "I helped a young woman with that name some months ago, traversing through this area. I remember her because she gave us a gift for helping her."
Saitou relaxed, but only a little. "What gift?"
Disregarding the fact that it was Hijikata who should be making these questions, all five of them looked at Sagara Souzou challengingly. And what with their display earlier, the man was slightly scared to do anything but comply. "A ribbon." At the universal "are you kidding us right now?" glare he received, he rushed to explain.
"No, really!" He reached into his fabrics in a flash and produced a very familiar, purple ribbon. "The thing itself isn't valuable but she said should a man named Hijikata ever pass through here, especially if he was accompanied by two men named Okita and Saitou, I should present them with it…and they would grant me a small favour."
All of them remained speechless. Hijikata was also stewing at the nerve of this woman who thought a good way to repay anyone for their services was to shoulder them with the debt! How could she even know they would be coming through here anyway? Had she—had she been planning this invitation from the moment she left Kyoto and was so sure of the outcome she had the audacity to assume her invitation would be accepted all along!? Hijikata had to resist the urge to snatch it out of Sagara's hands.
At the same time, Saitou knew what he said was true; Tokio herself relayed the facts. Saitou also knew Hijikata knew. But Saitou couldn't help but feel irritated and bitter. She gave him her ribbon? She let her hair down again? Had she no shame!? "And you expect us to believe you kept it on your person for so long, hoping we would show up?"
Sagara shrugged. "She was cute, I guess."
While Sagara's men chuckled, or shook their head – a "you're married Sagara-san, boo" was heard – Hijikata had to stop Saitou from doing anything stupid with the hilt of his sword, never looking at him. "So, what do you ask of us? We already helped you, Sagara Souzou."
The fact they knew his name threw Sagara, but he kept his cool. "Nothing; I would simply like to return it. She asked I gave it to you, as proof that her debt had been repaid, even though I told her no debt existed anyway; she insisted."
"She does that," Hijikata commented in a fit of honesty.
Saitou felt the twitch move from his hand to his eye. "Why should we beli-?"
"We believe you," Hijikata cut him off immediately "it sounds like her. But we can make sure. Does anyone recognise this ribbon as hers?"
Hijikata urged Sagara to hold it out, never looking anywhere but the man, so he missed how everyone turned to Saitou to hear his answer. Saitou rolled his eyes – while internally panicking –. "I only saw her a couple of times more than you, idiots, don't look at me like that."
Okita threw him a bone. "But you're the most observant Saitou-san!"
"And you have indeed seen her more than us; is the ribbon hers?"
He decided to appear magnanimous and spare a look at the piece of purple cloth Sagara had offered their commander and damn it, the second he looked at it, he could undeniably say it was hers because one end of it had the kanji of Aizu sewn into it. She herself had shown it to him one of the nights they had met, feeling proud of her accomplishment. He remembered he had complimented her – in his own special way – about her stitching and she had beamed at him. Just remembering it, made his blood boil. She gave this ribbon on purpose, didn't she? So, if he was with Hijikata, he'd know. He was so incensed he nearly lied and said he had no idea…!
But he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"It is." He glared at Sagara. "Consider her debt repaid." He, though, did snatch it out of the man's hands and buried it in his fabrics. "Let's go now."
He had the decency to wait for Hijikata to make the first move; once he did, Saitou was the first one on the horse and ready to leave.
"Next time we meet, it might not go so well, Sagara Souzou," Hijikata gave a final warning before they left and the Sagara unit watched them go.
"Saitou," he whispered when their horses came close "you and I are going to have a conversation once we get to Aizu."
Damn, Saitou knew he would get in trouble for this incident. It doesn't matter, he regretted nothing. Nothing.
And the rest of the trip was as uneventful as trips went; Matsudaira had asked about things, the men informed him about the Sagara incident and told him of Tokio's ribbon. And Hijikata had nearly exploded! That was why she was so audacious: when he told the Aizu-han, he was so excited; Tokio is so smart and Tokio is so kind and so well mannered—well, Tokio just-…saved their asses, come to think of it. Hijikata was the first to worry about this; but as soon as her name was mentioned, Sagara relaxed, even if he did recognise his name for more reasons that Takagi Tokio mentioning him and never telling them.
Tch! Now he was even more upset.
.
.
When they entered Aizu, the spirits of pretty much everyone was at an all-time high. Matsudaira had both windows down, talking excitedly with all of the men around him while describing everything they were going to see to his wives. How this was, how that would be, where they were going to stay, how far away the Takagi mansion was from the Aizu-han's mansion, and how they were going to get from one place to another.
It took two days to reach the mansion. It was torture to hear Matsudaira gush about everything, yet never being able to see most of them…or Tokio. Why did she have to live at the largest city, so far up north? And why did they have to have the second largest mansion in the entire prefecture after the Aizu-han himself? In that vein, why did she have to be so rich anyway? If it weren't for her troublesome spot and how her father was such good friends with Matsudaira, he wouldn't have to be so scared and careful all the time. Then again, if she weren't, he never would have met her. Huh; he felt conflicted again.
But all of that disappeared the moment they finally reached the path to her house: all of her family was out of the main gate, lined up two by two to receive them. First was the Takagi couple, Kojuuro with his wife, a woman Tokio portrayed too well, an aged-up version of her oldest daughter. She was beautiful and regal, shorter than Tokio who stood directly behind her father, but taller than all the other daughters, four in total.
From the way they stood, they figured they were in order of age: the parents, the two oldest and then the two youngest daughters. Each and every one of them looked like their mother the most, with small elements from their father, but as they got younger, those elements were more pronounced—a nose, the shape of the mouth, eyebrows and ears…and all of them were dressed to impress.
Not that Matsudaira-sama and his wives were anything less, but something about the way five women in line wore some of their prettiest kimonos made a real impression. It was almost harmonic, starting from the bright and whites, ending in the bright but darks; but if any of his friends asked Saitou what colour was the kimono of the mother, or if any of the sisters wore any trinkets in their hair, he wouldn't be able to answer.
All he saw was her.
She was wearing the kimono Matsudaira had made for her and she wore when they first met officially; she had that same pin in her hair; she even wore those same geta as that day. It was all to honour and please her guests and the lord, but it was also a jab at him, for once calling her too well-dressed for the occasion. As if daring him to say the same and imply their arrival wasn't important now.
She was teasing him.
But that wasn't why he couldn't take his eyes off of her; she could have been wearing her father's clothes and he would still look at her like that. For it had been so long since he last saw her in person, he was literally drinking her image in. He couldn't stop looking to make sure; make sure she didn't leave his field of vision, she didn't move, she never stopped smiling in shy anticipation…she was really there, charming and sweet, looking both at everyone and him in particular. And all that while barely raising her head.
Maybe it wasn't a matter of ability; it was necessity. If he moved his eyes, he'd forget how to breathe properly and his heartbeat would go haywire just as he had first seen the procession of people waiting for them. Besides, he didn't really feel like looking away from her. Because she was there. She was standing right in front of him.
His thoughts became too loud and too repetitive, there was thumping at his ears. Through all that, he heard his name being called just barely; his eyes slid to the speaker, none other than Hijikata. "Open the door." Hijikata didn't look even remotely upset so that must have been the first time he called for him, good. He'd feel too much like an idiot otherwise. He dismounted and swiftly did as he was asked, while the others got off their horses only after the lord walked out.
As if a button had been pushed, the formalities commenced; everyone started saluting everyone, making a big deal out of everything, bowing and nodding in respect and succession. Someone mentioned Teruhime had fallen ill, hence she was missing from the welcoming party. No one was spared by the barrage of appropriate conduct, he himself never excluded; yet somehow, they all felt muted and…too much like noise. Needless. It wasn't until Tokio finally took the floor, after everyone important spoke, that he paid attention.
She stopped looking at him altogether then, even if he didn't, and bowed her head deeply, walking between her parents. "My lord, my ladies; how delightful you are here with us. We are more than honoured you accepted my father's invitation."
"wouldn't miss it for the world" and other pleasantries were heard by everyone.
"Kondou-sama, Hijikata-sama," she continued "we are very excited to have you with us. We know how hectic things have been in Kyoto and as the heads of the Shinsengumi you must have had so many things to do; you truly honour us."
"The invitation was quite the honour, too," Kondou assured.
"Indeed," Hijikata agreed.
"You do honour us though; you and your men, too."
She finally looked at them, the "less important" individuals; everyone rushed to bow to her, overly excited – Takeda tried to speak, but Okita "accidentally" elbowed him at the stomach – and immediately their voices mingled in their thanks and reassurances that things weren't that serious so this wasn't taking them out of anything…all but Saitou who remained looking at her sombre, while she kept stealing glances in his general direction, shy smile never fading. If anything, it only grew in intensity when she noticed his expressionless but steady face, staring back at her.
"Allow me to introduce to you the rest of my daughters:" Kojuuro said and extended his hand; all three of them came to the foreground, pushing Tokio back, giving her ample opportunity to finally stare at Saitou unobstructed "my youngest, Teru, ten years old. Then it's Taka, thirteen; and then Tsukuyo, fifteen." The girls had already started receiving compliments when their father hastily added, "Tokio you already know, of course," so she was treated as a footnote by everyone, too.
Then, pleasantries overlapped; kind words were tossed around endlessly; a small buzz had been created while the small procession of people started moving into the house, hiding any lingering glances. But more than words mingled at the retreat to the house and Tokio maybe had a slow start, effectively putting her behind her youngest sister yet eventually picked up her pace, not to fall too far behind.
How fortuitous; she happened to match Saitou's pace who was also the very last man of the newcomers' party; somehow, they ended up walking almost shoulder to shoulder next to each other all the way inside the house. If anyone saw, it was obvious from the way they turned their eyes everywhere but each other to avoid any accidental glances, Tokio's blushing, or Saitou's constant swallowing they actually really wanted to do the opposite.
But no one saw; no one cared to keep an eye on them. All happily moved along like nothing was amiss…all but one vice commander who was doing some very quick thinking on his feet, en route to their place of residence for the next week.
.
"Tokio."
Her heart skipped a beat.
It had been too long since she heard the certain voice calling her name in a room. She'd been expecting to hear it for the past entire month, ever since she proposed to her father that they came for New Year's and he said yes. Maybe it was even before that, when she first told Teruhime-sama they should work on getting her father to agree; or maybe, it was ever since she conceived of the plan…two days into the trip.
But it didn't matter; now she did and all was well with her world. "Hajime."
Neither dared to raise their voiced too much, nor look at one another for more than a second even as they stood close. All other people's socialising drowned out their voices, so only they could hear each other, which was a blessing.
"It's good to see you again." He paused for effect. "You look invigorated."
"The trip lifted my spirits…but I feel like it has gone a little too long."
In fact, she felt that way ever since they arrived in Aizu. After the first couple of days had passed, she felt like she did what she came here to do, see her family, and should be on her way back again. There was that nagging sensation that she forgot something back in Kyoto and absolutely had to get back to make sure to take it with her.
"Well, it has been four months…"
"The other times, I was away for two or three and they felt too little; now it feels like an eternity."
"Mmm, is that so? What changed?"
It was an innocent question, really; she was certain he didn't mean anything by it. But it was only after he posed a question like that, she came to understand herself and motives a little better. She took pause, smile disappearing. She furrowed her brows and put her fist in front of her mouth. Then she lowered her shoulders as she stood straighter, hand finding her other one in front of her.
She felt heat rise to her cheeks. Now she would definitely avoid looking at him. "…th, the company I keep, I should guess."
Oh, dear sweet Buddha! The look of satisfied arrogance on his face was too much; so much in fact that Hijikata just had to step in and see what's going on. "Tokio-san," he said without warning, causing both to flinch "good to see you again. How has the Aizu climate been treating you?"
"Very well, I should say! I always enjoyed the long winters, they made me try my best to keep everyone healthy."
"Is that where your motivation to become a doctor comes from?"
Why was Hijikata making small talk, what's going on? She played along, but felt something ominous approaching. "Indeed, well-observed."
"A blessing, the Aizu winters are, then; we did miss your healing touch back in Kyoto though."
"Were you injured?"
Funny how it was him that said it yet it was Saitou she turned to ask that in a slight panic.
"No, we were fine. Nothing we couldn't handle with our own doctor," Saitou answered, looking at his superior a tiny bit suspicious.
"But we did miss you, Tokio-chan!" Okita added exuberant, appearing in a flash, winking.
"We all missed you, Tokio-san," Nagakura entered the conversation, bowing "it was too…dull without you there."
No, it wasn't boring; it was colourless.
That's what Saitou had concluded when the first thing he had noticed when he saw her again was how vibrant the colours of her kimono were; he felt they popped out even more than the first time he had seen her in it. But then, all colours suddenly felt stronger: the red in Matsudaira's clothes; the green in his wife's kimono; the pink in his second wife's pin. And when he turned to Kondou, it was as if a spotlight had been turned on him and looked ten times brighter than usual.
So, he finally realised, it wasn't them. It was him. And consequently, her. He had felt like an idiot for admitting it to himself, but it was true.
"Aw, I'm sad to hear that. But I feel confident there was at least one other female presence there to keep you better company than I ever would."
The scandalous affairs of Nagakura-san and his geisha; he changed about ten colours before he managed to make light of it, after Hijikata's laughter. "She figured you out! Behind the glasses and all that shyness, lies a suave lady-killer."
"N-n-nonsense!" he protested hotly but everyone's polite laugh caused him to take it easier. "I am…no such thing."
"Of course you aren't! I am much more suited to that title."
Saitou snorted. "It doesn't count when they think you're an easy target, Harada."
He fired up immediately! "You're just upset because the geisha that went after you gave up and prefers me now."
Harada said it to embarrass him, but had no idea he was actually paying him an indirect compliment, at least as far as Tokio was concerned. Saitou watched her try and feign disinterest but after perking up like that, she couldn't fool anyone. He felt like showing off to her a bit and decided to tease Harada a little more. "To brag about women who money can buy is pointless; pursuing them is just the same."
"Unless all other women are unattainable of course," Okita made his jab "and I think in Harada-san's case that's true."
"That's not true! That's definitely not the case, Tokio-san, don't listen to them!"
She giggled in her sleeve. "I won't," she gave him a shrewd look "but maybe you ought to not frequent such places too much, otherwise you will be taken advantage of."
That was it; she dealt the decisive blow. "It is nice seeing you again Tokio-san, we all missed you. I am going to go now," Harada said all in one breath, dejected and walked away.
"No, don't go like that Harada-san!" Okita went after him, way too jubilant; Nagakura chuckled, following them, too.
"Those idiots," Hijikata murmured and reluctantly followed after them, trying to keep the noise at a minimum.
They were left alone once more; a new sort of mood wafted in the air around them and she felt daring.
"How about you Hajime? Did you miss me?"
He pursed his lips a little arrogant. "Almost everyone worshipping you isn't enough? You have to have each and every one opinion?"
She blushed but didn't fold. "Not all opinions carry the same weight."
Ugh, she was being cute again; damn it. "In that case…not really, no." Her kicked-puppy expression was priceless; he smirked. "I mean, I might have, if you hadn't kept sending me all those letters...how inappropriate of you."
She put her finger in front of her mouth, looking around a little paranoid. "No one knows, except Teruhime-sama" she informed even more quiet "and no one should. We were not supposed to tell people of our journey, remember?"
"I do; you didn't."
"Of course, I did."
"Then you just didn't care."
"N…no! I was very careful."
"Oh yes, so careful, you included sketches of places you visited so if anyone got their hands on it, they could easily track you down; genius."
"I-…!" She changed ten colours, head dipping. "I, I just thought that…!"
"They were very nice though; quite skilful. You have a good hand…or so Hijikata says." The dumbfounded look she gave him was justified. "He saw; all of them in fact." Had they been alone, he was sure she would have gaped. "This feels like a good moment to let you know Hijikata and Okita know about your letters, though they'd never tell." She put her hand over her heart, trying to calm down. "Okita sort of snuck around, but Hijikata unabashedly opened and read them."
"He what!?"
She felt like fainting; all…all the inside jokes she wrote, all the private things…he read them? She could die of shame!
"He read them alright, before even I got the chance; all seven of them."
"Why-…?" But that question died in favour of another. "Seven?" He nodded yes; she nodded no. "I sent eight."
He was taken aback. "I only got seven."
"I did send it; and it was a month ago, it should have reached you." She seemed troubled. "Could it have been misplaced?"
"It could have."
Her eyes widened. "Should I be worried it fell into the wrong hands? Someone maybe intercepted it? Ah! what if Chousuu men took it and they-?"
"Tokio, relax," he said through amused chuckles "unless you wrote about the security and the exact number of people coming and going, nothing too bad is going to happen. Everyone already knows the Aizu-han went back to Aizu for the New Year celebration after all these years. The shogun himself made a big deal out of it."
"Oh."
"Besides, with all of us here, at the very core of the shogunate supporters, what could possibly happen? A coup?"
She smiled. "You are right, I am being ridiculous. All is well." She sighed in relief. "Tis just that I hoped you already knew…"
"Knew what?"
She jutted her chin out towards her father. "He's about to make the announcement."
Everyone watched as the patriarch made his way to the farthest side of the room, one that offered best visibility; talks slowly died down until the eventual silence her father wanted. "Once more, I wish to thank you for accepting my invitation and coming to my home, to celebrate with me! I could not be happier. I ask for nothing else, other than you to have fun."
Small murmurs of appreciation made the rounds but died down easily, as they saw he wanted to continue. "That being said, I have a task for my lord and his beautiful women that I hope they accept." The people in question gave him a look. "We shall be joined by a guest in three days from now and I should like to know your opinion of him."
Matsudaira's lips curled into a smirk. "Him I hear…can it be what I think it is?"
Kojuuro decided to play coy. "Maybe. We shall see. All I require of you is an honest assessment. Do you accept the task?"
All airs, he turned to the women around him. "Do we?" Through giggles, they said or nodded their agreement. "Then it is settled."
"Lovely! Now let's get Taka and Teru to sleep."
"No…!"
"Papa, we don't want to leave."
"Go now, you are too young; Matsudaira-sama will be retiring to his own residence soon enough and your sisters have to show the men around and then to their rooms. Kondou-san, I thought I should let you decide where you want to stay: here or the Aizu-han's residence?"
"It was you who invited us thus incredibly rude to stay elsewhere."
That was deemed the correct answer; Kojuuro clapped twice satisfied and the servants all but appeared out of thin air. "Two of you escort the young ladies to their rooms and the others make sure all the rooms are presentable. Once the inspection is done, come inform us."
"Yes, my lord," they all chorused; three instead of two daughters were then ushered outside, making complaints livelier but all the same unanswered.
"And now let's carry on…"
"Father," Tokio approached the man once he mingled with the rest "can I ask for a room?"
"What for my dear?"
"Hijikata-sama mentioned how they were left wanting a good healer after my departure while both Hijikata-sama and Saitou-san have injuries I treated and I would like to follow up on; I would love to make one into an examination room. Of course all who needed it, shall be treated, too."
"Ah, of course, of course; please, choose whichever you like."
And just like that, Tokio found herself a private space she could not only look at people's injuries, but also talk at a length with a man without fear of looking indecent, all in an effort to explain to a very startled Saitou Hajime, who would not stop staring in disbelief, what just transpired. She sighed. That was why she was upset he never got that last letter of hers; it explained everything.
Yet how could she know, it was for the exact same reason Hajime never received it. After a lacklustre attempt to gauge his reaction to big news, Hijikata took it upon himself to make sure Saitou was taken by surprise by at least one major thing concerning her, all just so he could see how Saitou would deal with it.
And he did; but what he saw, needed to be addressed.
A/N: Hijikata is a meticulous worrywart, pass it around. He's also the mom friend and he has to keep an eye on all of his children. But sometimes, mothers do things they shouldn't...but they have no regrets, much like him. Also, Okita is definitely the vodka aunt, I can just picture him.
Aaaah, hope you liked lovelies! Love you all, keep being awesome.
Kisses,
FAI.