A/N: Internet is a wonderful thing...I grew up in a time when I had to wait for ten minutes to load just one picture and yet, with all the advancements in pretty much everything, here I am, shouting at my screen if my youtube video doesn't load in ten seconds. I, and many people all around the world, take things for granted that I didn't actually have until I was in junior high school. Amazing. If you think about it, I'm an aspiring author from Greece, who writes her musings and her fanfics to kill time and someone all the way from Singapore or Mexico reads it and relates and that...that to me is extraordinary.
To everyone out there, who loves to read and write and generally be entertained by the internet, I salute you my friend. To all of you, wherever you are from, who read this, thank you so much. All my love
Now on to the story, long introduction, right? It picks up exactly where it left off, same day, New Year's eve. Don't be too sad, okay? It gets better.
Timeline: New Year's eve, February 14th, 1864.
A fine lady...
...and confessions.
Alright. He was strong. He would do this…tonight.
.
If there was ever a time to use the phrase "easier said than done" it was now. He knew he couldn't talk to her in front of other people, so he patiently waited in his room to hear her door open; when he did, and tried to head there, lo and behold there comes Okita, too who must have had the same idea with him, for the timing was too suspicious. Tokio never came out though, it was only Ochako - who disappeared to another corridor to fetch something - so they both went to the main hall with the rest of the men disappointed.
The disappointment they reached the rest, too for no woman had arrived; only the men, in their ridiculous clothes. But at least all of them were there, even Matsudaira-sama, and they felt free to make sun of each other's over the top garments. Okita was the only one so on board with the idea that he even wore the hat that came with it! His was the most colourful and patterned outfit but that little shit looked like it was made for him to begin with.
And then there was Hijikata, who – just as Tooka-san had said – looked good in anything he wore; so those two had nothing to worry about. Yet, Hijikata still glared at Saitou—in fact, everyone glared or made a jab at Saitou for wearing the outfit he did. Apparently, all but Okita, would have preferred that one instead, even her father, who traditionally wore it. But Kojuuro was very graceful about it, most possibly parroting his wife's words, saying he wore it enough already and it was time he passed the torch to someone else.
The women started arriving half an hour after the last man. The wives were the first ones, followed by the lady of the house. After that was Teruhime and the two youngest daughters. Each and every one of the women – and two girls – were dressed to impress to the nth power. Long garments dragging behind them for the married ones, in an amazing variety of colours and patterns; there was volume and trinkets in their hair. As for Teruhime-sama, she wore much more modest but far more lavish fabrics, in simple festive colours, ones she usually didn't favour.
The men started paying compliments left and right, commenting on the beauty and elegance of the women, passing half an hour in such a fashion...until Tokio finally made her appearance, walking hand in hand with her sister Tsukuyo. The moment she was seen turning the corner, all conversation effectively stopped as her father exclaimed relieved:
"Finally, the last ones have arrived!"
If their goal was to make an entrance, they definitely achieved it. A collective breath was held as eyes turned to the sisters, who inclined their heads in salutation, accompanied by Ochako and two maids he didn't know. Tsukuyo had painted her face like a geisha – just like the younger sisters – but it wasn't seen as offensive, for she hadn't fully entered society yet. Still, she wore a furisode, much like the eldest, signalling her "single" status.
But, unlike her sister, Tsukuyo received nearly none of the attention.
Because wow; she looked amazing…and now he could see one more reason she insisted on his wearing the blue and black ridiculous outfit; it matched perfectly with her impressive ofurisode kimono: starting with a black base, the long sleeves and the most of her skirt were covered with varying shades of blue, black and white that formed patterns of crystallisations of snowflakes. A hint of dark blue peeked out at the second collar; on the right side of her shoulder, a small pattern of the same snowflakes and a flash of pure white; and her obi was that same brilliant dark blue with the small white tie going around it.
He stood there looking at her for a long time. So did all of his friends; Hijikata alternated glancing at his men, his commander and her father; Takeda was the first one to start conversation with her, as polite and uncaring as ever. "Tokio-san, you look very unique. What a particular pattern you chose for your kimono!"
"Very unique indeed, but in a good way; it catches your eye," Okita assured, winking.
"The colours suit you perfectly," Nagakura added.
"You look beautiful, Tokio-san," Harada assured.
"You, too look very beautiful Tsukuyo-chan," Kondou complimented hoping he wouldn't offend the father and cheer up the other sister, too.
But in all honesty, Saitou didn't even notice Tsuki, only how Tokio's hair was in an elaborate tangle at the top of her head, two tuffs falling gracefully at each side; the hairdo was decorated with a beautiful white pin, that formed crystals – that must have been commissioned for her, he could bet both his hands on it – her face was clean, no makeup on, but her lips seemed bigger, glossier. Her cheeks were rosier than ever, from all the kind words people kept telling her when he wasn't paying attention, and she never really looked up, other than to glance at whomever spoke to her.
"Now enough of that," her father stepped in, offering his hand to his wife "the time is already seven; we need to go to the festival, watch the parade and then secure our spot for the viewing of the fireworks. We must be going."
The Aizu-han did the same and two of the three wives grabbed him; Kondou offered his hand to the third, Kiyo, while Hijikata was paired off with Teruhime-sama.
"We can split up once we get there and meet at the big oak tree at half past ten. Then we can all head to the spot I reserved for us," Kojuuro continued, his back already turned, heading to the exit.
When it came to who would be paired with whom for the rest, Takeda was quick to head for the eldest of the daughters, but Saitou would be damned if he allowed that little snake anywhere near Tokio tonight. He was already taking decisive – that felt predestined almost – steps to reach her, who in turn effortlessly accommodated him, as she pretended not to notice the unpleasant man. Okita made sure to get in his way, too and afford his friend the dignity of not rushing to his designated date.
Nagakura made the surprising choice of offering his hand to Ochako – earning a giggle from anyone who knew anything – as Okita grabbed Tsukuyo's hand naturally. Takeda, they relegated to the youngest as Harada concerned himself with Taka, the third one, shiest of all. Being so straight forward and open, he allowed the small girl to talk to him more, especially since she was fighting a lisp. He would make a great dad, everyone thought, for Harada was very patient and at the same time encouraging whenever she got something right, even after a lot of effort.
Kachako sadly had caught a horrible cold and was bedridden since yesterday night they returned. Ochako promised to tell her everything though.
As such, they walked in the streets, littered with people as eager for the festivities as them; once they reached the main avenue where most stalls and booths were located, they broke off in two major groups: over and under twenty-five. It was a good thing they split the way they did, too for the girls were able to enjoy games much more! Of course, Tokio held the purse, given money by her father, but the escorts paid at least once for their respective lady.
That being said, Tokio took the time to smuggle some money in everyone's pocket, knowing full well how unintentionally spoiled her siblings were. Proof of that was how often they requested of gifts and the like, pulling them in every possible direction.
"Mm, let's go to that one, Okita-san!"
"No, no! I want a goldfish; catch me a goldfish, Takeda-san."
Taka looked at Harada shily. "I'd like something to eat…!"
"I could do with a walk around the booths, maybe something sweet?" Ochako opined when Nagakura looked to her in question.
They all sighed at the same time. "I see we all want different things," Nagakura summarised a little weary "how about we split up, too and meet by that oak tree with the rest, right after the parade?"
"I don't mind," Tsuki was quick to agree, eyes shining.
"Me neither!"
Takeda seemed to mind though; no one cared.
Ochako shrugged casually, secretly being the one who wanted it the most. "We could do that…"
Harada smiled. "Tis decided then; let's go on our merry ways! What sort of food would you like, Taka-chan?"
They all went their separate ways before Taka could properly explain the delicacy properly and soon enough, Saitou and Tokio were left alone in the middle of an overcrowded path. The buzz of the people coming and going was the only sort of sound that passed between them for some time but it felt satisfying. They just sort of existed there, ever-watchful.
Once Tokio felt the silence got too much, she decided to speak. "Did you manage to hide your sword as I instructed?"
He smirked. "I did; you were very precise."
"One of my many gifts."
"Speaking of, are you sure you don't want anything? So far you've participated in nothing."
"Hmm…I'd like to go to that booth," she showed the one equipped with a bow and arrow "but I feared it would serve as a bad example to my sisters."
"Heh, could be worse; you could be Sakura."
Tokio tried not to laugh too much. "Sa-chan's not as horrible as she seemed, honest." She smiled at the way he rolled his eyes at her. "So, can we go?"
"To the booth where you shoot at things in a very unlady like fashion? Sure."
Of course, he had to say it that way. And of course, he had thought what she hadn't but said nothing of until it was time to yield the weapon: her sleeves were huge! They only got in the way and made nothing easier.
"But I really wanted that flower," she pouted, crossing her hands in front of her.
"That one?" He nodded to the wilting, sad blossom on the shelf. "Why?"
"…it's in perfect condition for a brew I'm preparing. If you just pluck it, it'll wilt too fast; if you unearth it too cautiously, it will never reach that perfect state. But this one, it's just right."
"You eyed this when we first came here, didn't you?" She nodded modestly. "Fine, I'll win it for you."
She clapped excited! "Thank you, Hajime."
Of course, with the ridiculous things he too was wearing, he had no idea how he would go about winning this prize. Mm, maybe if he took off his haori. Without a shred of hesitation, he shrugged it off and she caught it without needing to be told. He drew the string to see how far it could go; not bad, not bad. But his own sleeves were getting in his way, too or at least they would, once he properly positioned himself.
He considered. The weather wasn't that cold…eh, it was; but how bad could it be to expose one shoulder for a minute? He unceremoniously started undressing his right shoulder.
"What are you doing!?" she questioned through gritted teeth, looking all around her mortified; she rushed to cover him immediately, seeing a small crowd had alrady started gathering.
"What? You don't expect me to hit that thing while wearing this, right?"
"P-p-put on your kimono properly!" She threw the haori over his shoulders in an effort to shield him from prying eyes for the third time, but the damn thing wouldn't stay on. "J. just leave the flower, it's okay."
"No, I am committed to this now."
"But it's freezing!" And there were more women than men in the developing crowd, too.
"Inconsequential. I shall win this flower."
"H, Hajime, it's fine," beet red, struggling not to bury her head under the haori "p-people are staring…"
"I'm not shy."
"I can see that!" Why was he being so matter-of-fact? She could die! He became a spectacle and she was right in the middle of it, too—hell, she caused it. And there were so many women whispering at one another, it was vexing. "P, please, just…" She gave him a good once over; he would not budge. She turned even redder. "Just shoot the arrow."
"Well there, young man," the man behind the plank finally engaged him "you look a lot less conceited than your clothes make you out to be!" That's one major reason why he hated this type of dress by the way. "Will you shoot for the flower?"
"I will."
He pointed to the sign that read One go, five brass. "It's three tries for one go; ready?"
"What if I hit the target on the first try?"
"Heh! Confident, are we?" But Saitou wasn't distracted. "You still get two more; and if you hit the target again, you get more rewards."
"Interesting." He turned to Tokio. "Anything else you want?"
"W-we'll see…!" She averted her eyes. "I can't think properly right now."
Shrugging, a little more arrogant than three seconds ago, he took position.
He had tucked the extra clothing under his arm, like the archers of old that one saw in paintings more than real life these days, making many of the women's whispers intensify tenfold! She seethed all over as she watched one pair of women in particular, no older than her, ran their eyes greedily all over his muscled arm and what was visible of his chest. The bow was large and difficult to pull, too – on purpose, Tokio bet, for maximum profit for the vender – so he had to put actual effort in it, making his muscles ripple from the effort.
He aimed…and let it go.
Bullseye! The crowd cheered as the man hit his target and the vendor clicked his tongue.
"Not bad, kid…let's see how you fair on your second one." Instead of taking the arrow out of the centre of the target, he simply handed him a second one. Was that a challenge?
"I'll ruin your other arrow if you leave it there." Challenge accepted.
"I very much doubt that; how many lucky shots can you make?"
Tokio looked at the vendor annoyed. "That wasn't luck. That was skill."
"There's only one way to find out."
She came to his defence, how…cute. How could he disappoint her now? With one eye on the target and the other on her, he drew the arrow back a second time and aimed. He smirked at her and winked. Then he let it go!
"Ooooh!"
The crowd cheered in awe, as the second arrow came and tore the first one in half, hitting the exact same spot. Even the vendor was slightly impressed. "You've a good hand, boy! Okay, two prizes," he extracted the two arrows from the target and gave him the second, the one that was still whole "shoot for the third one."
He wasted no time; he found the exact same spot a third time and now the entire crowd clapped excited, asking for his name and rank.
"You cleaned me out, kid!" He protested, but sounded far less grumpy than one would expect. "You're the first to hit the target on all tries, so, have one on the house." He produced a third arrow and offered it to Saitou. "But no prize if you win this once…only the respect of this old man and the chance to show off to your girlfriend a little more."
Tokio became her own brand of purple and he had to admit he quite enjoyed it. His girlfriend, eh? Nothing could be further from the truth yet closer to his desire; he simply smirked at her and accepted the second challenge of the night. He aimed…but as he did he noticed something at the very back of the booth.
Was that…? Oh no he didn't!
Without hesitation, Saitou slightly moved the bow and took another second to aim; when he released it, it flew past the target and hit the very back of the booth, that was covered with cloth.
"Aw, you missed it!"
But at the same time, a surprised yelp was heard and everyone focused harder, to watch in shock as a man fell through the tent-like cloth and right in the middle of the booth, clutching his now bleeding hand.
"I missed one target…" the bow was thrust into the vendor's hands as he jumped over the wooden plank that separated the crowd from the inside of the booth and found himself standing over the man that now struggled to run away. "Hello thief."
"He has a dagger," Tokio shouted her warning as the vendor was looking for an escape horrified!
The crowd let out gasps as the thief switched to offense from the ground. Thinking he was the one that had the advantage, he lunged for his feet; Saitou read him like a book and kicked the blade out of his hands before it made half the distance! A cry of pain left the thief's lips, two out of two hands now incapacitated. He tried to use his entire body as a weapon, but all Saitou had to do was kick him again – in the face this once – and step on his back to keep him down. "Anyone has any rope?"
"Here!"
The vendor rushed to provide him and in less than a minute, the thief, no older than thirty, was tied up, lying on the ground. The crowd cheered again at his success; some women were saying how skillful he was while others appreciated his non-violent approach. They called that non-violent? Aizu must be very sword-ready then, he considered at the back of his mind.
"Someone just went to call a guard," Tokio informed him, inching as close as she could, without posing a threat "they'll come take him at any moment."
"Good." A small search of his person turned up at least three pouches of coins. "They can return these to the owners."
Immediately everyone started looking for their money; all was there, even the vendor's. These must have been from a previous crime, then. Just as Saitou was considering what the best course of action for this thief would be, the over-enthusiastic pair of women from before came and stood in front of him, ignoring the fact Tokio was right there, holding his haori.
"You are so brave, please tell us your name!"
Almost panicked, he turned to look at Tokio, who seemed to momentarily forget what had just transpired and took to glaring at both! Her anger chilled him a little.
"His name is none of your business! He's not from around here anyway, so stop staring." The two women were taken aback at her ferocity. "And you, stop exposing yourself, you'll catch a cold. The thief is secured, put your clothes back on properly."
He looked at her for a second before silently complying with her wishes. Was it bad he felt attracted to her that moment? Not just abstract attraction, no; it was a very much defined, strong physical attraction. So, he said nothing and did as she ordered, not even acknowledging the two women, who left deflated.
"Th…thank you," the vendor said for the umpteenth time that night; but now the guard had left, thief in hand, and there were only the three of them left from that big crowd. "I don't even know how you heard him."
"It was-...nothing," he almost said my duty "just give her the flower." He smirked. "That's why all of this happened anyway."
"Please, take it! Take two more—take whatever you want, as a thank you. Please."
"There's no need; I just want that flower." She considered. "But if you have more like it, please give them to me, I can pay you! Oh, which reminds me" she lightly elbowed Saitou "we never paid the man his five brass! We are so sorry," she bowed deeply "it was unintentional."
She had already reached in her purse to produce the money, but Saitou's glare was so disarming, she had to stop moving. "We are very sorry, sir," he gave the man his money "let us part in good terms."
"The best, what are you talking about? You just saved me the entire night's earnings!"
.
"What were you thinking, trying to pay that man," he demanded as they walked away, uncaring he made her uncomfortable.
"It was my idea, so…"
"It was five brass; I think I can afford it."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
He crossed his hands. "You just implied."
"…I'm not used to going to these things with men," she admitted then "I always pay mine, many times others', too. I didn't mean to offend you, forgive me."
He shook his head. "Idiot." After the signature insult was uttered, she knew she was out of the woods. "At least you got your flower."
"And not just one—three!" Just like that, the impending argument was prevented. "All in the same, perfect condition. Thank you very much, Hajime," she squeezed his arm for a second "they are very precious to me."
"What do they do anyway?"
"I'll tell you once the brew is finished."
He rolled his eyes. "Such needless mystery…"
"Let a woman have her secrets!" she complained through laughs.
"And here I thought you shared all your secrets with me."
"I stopped when I realised I was the only one confiding," she complained again, teasing "you never told me anything."
"Let me tell you now then." Her head snapped up at him in a second. "I once spiked Hijikata's drink with salt at a formal dinner." She snorted with laughter. "Had said I was being too salty and I decided to even the field. I watched him wonder what was wrong with his cup the entire night."
She was laughing now; he couldn't help but watch the wrinkles forming on her face, or how she would always try to hide in her hand only to end up throwing her head back when it got too much to control. He loved watching her like this; it gave him life. "Anything you wish to tell me?"
"…I didn't like those two women who came to us at the end."
"I noticed."
Her head turned to him in a slow, terrifying way. Her eyebrows were too high, lips almost pursed. "So?"
"So, it isn't all that much of a secret."
She pursed her lips. "Then maybe the reason I didn't like them is and I was about to tell you, but now I don't think I will."
"That isn't that much of a secret, too," he mumbled, but she heard some of it.
"Pardon?"
"I said any other secrets?"
It was obvious she didn't believe him, but she decided to let it go. "No…maybe…not that much of a secret but a piece of advice: don't strip just to shoot an arrow next time."
"But I won you your flower."
"If you had kept your clothes on, you'd still have won, only with more difficulty," she said annoyed "just less attention."
"Is the secret that you didn't enjoy I received so much attention or that you thought only you should see me half naked?"
Her mouth hang; the flowers almost fell from her hands as she struggled to produce sound, any sound, to defend herself. He enjoyed it too much, that's how he knew it must have been forbidden. "I have never seen you half-naked," she managed in the end, causing him to smirk.
"Then how do you treat me when I get hurt?"
She exhaled in relief. "That's all sorts of different from what you implied."
"I didn't imply anything, hime-sama. I said what I said; you took it another way." He leaned close. "How indecent of you."
"H-H-H-Hajime!"
"Tokio."
"S-s-s-s-stop teasing me."
"I will." Whether I like it or not. "So, what was the secret after all?"
"I wanted to compliment you on your appearance but I never got the chance. Everyone else did before me, anyway. Some women actually swooned, how tasteless."
"And now you know how it feels for me, too." She pretended she had no idea what he was talking about. "It loses its importance when everyone says it before you, doesn't it?"
"Well…no…it's just, someone beat me to it." So, she agreed. "I still maintain that not all opinions carry the same weight."
"That too is true. So, why don't you compliment me, then? Or do you think your opinion is as important as those two to me?"
"Of…of course not! You don't even know them." He gave her a meaningful look and she blushed. "You look really nice, Hajime. Black and blue suits you."
"Why thank you."
"You could pass for a real lord with that expression, too."
Now she was being mean. "No one does that as successfully as you, hime-sama." Ah, revenge was sweet; she changed ten colours already. "Though you do look beautiful tonight; enough to warrant the real title."
Whatever she was about to say, died in her throat and looked at him with pure, undiluted surprise. The excess colour drained but then returned, in a wonderful gradual way; the more she let what he said sink in, the more it spread. "Black and blue suits you, too."
"Thank you, Hajime…"
He smiled.
It took her a moment. He didn't smirk or give that lopsided grin of his, nothing. He really smiled. Well, it was only because he knew: this was the last compliment; it was now or never. "Tokio," he began, smile fading "we need to talk."
She sighed; she feared she'd have to say these words herself, but to hear them come out of his mouth…Hijikata must have been upset. The observant part, she already knew. So, she graced him with an equally kind but a little sad smile and nodded. "After the parade yes? It is about to start."
"Alright."
He regretted it the moment he said it. This was the perfect chance, but he still squandered it. He wanted to get this over with but at the same time, every second he spent with her felt precious, especially since he came to the decision to stop seeing her. Thus, he agreed to postpone what needed to be said all in sake of her pleading eyes...oh yes, he was very strong. Sure.
The parade was entertaining at least; it was all she had said it would be in her letters and then some! Samurai rode on their horses, proud and fully armed; banners danced in the night winds, the sound of snow crunching under hooves all the more satisfying. After the riders, came the foot soldiers, dressed in full gear; and last but not least, were the archers, faces painted like the warriors of old, carrying their equipment on their backs.
There was a marching band with them, playing loud music but it was the drums that gave the beat to everyone: the riders controlled the pace of the horses to the repetitive rhythm; the soldiers unsheathed, swung and sheathed their swords at that same beat, while the archers, save for the first row the first time, aimed with one and released their arrows with the second. The most impressive thing must have been how the arrows always ended up right next to the archer at the front line and, in the end, the arrows were constantly recycled. The precision of those hits was immaculate—and only the very last row ever held more than two arrows in their quivers. The amount of practise that went into that must have been immeasurable.
Saitou was more than pleased he managed to witness this. It was an interesting way to celebrate the new year and certainly far more to his liking than the one in his own hometown even, not to mention the effervescent capital with its grand celebrations and colourful geisha. All in all, he was glad they accepted their invitation. It was a unique experience.
And for a long, clamorous moment, he had successfully forgotten what he had to say.
"I told you, you'd like it," she commented devilishly. He hadn't said anything, simply watched the people coming and going nor had he shared any impressions. But the way his eyes followed every little thing, she was sure he enjoyed it.
"Don't sound so—watch it!"
There was a large middle-aged man, too drunk for anyone's good, stumbling all around, wearing too nice clothes for anyone to tell him anything. Saitou had noticed him prior to this and figured he didn't pose much of a threat, but this impossibly inebriated person tripped and fell right into Tokio! He tried to take her out of his way, much like the two men behind her dodged him – thus she was left to receive the guy's full weight – but he wasn't fast enough. The intoxicated man crushed into her, dragging her to the ground!
But he wasted no time freeing her from the man's frame, who had all but pinned her down, between him and the cold, dirty snow: with one decisive move he threw the aggressor's feet off of her back and grabbed her arms. "Tokio, are you alright?"
He pulled her up in an instant, never bothering with the squirming guy. But as she tried to stand, she let out a sharp cry, leaning slightly to her right. They both looked down involuntarily, but of course nothing was visible. "My ankle hurts."
"Let me guess; it's the same one that you hurt when you were kidnapped." She nodded affirmatively. "Great…can you walk?"
"Um, I'll try…" a small giggle. "If you let go of me."
He retracted his hands as if she'd burnt him, ashamed of his traitorous limbs. Then he turned to the man, still on the ground. "You should apologise to her."
"R…ight…sorry…girl…"
He was so far gone, he was looking the other way. Saitou was certain he was about to puke, too. Unwilling to be in that line of fire, he took her arm and nudged her to move away. "We have to go to that oak tree, too," he reminded. Offering his own arm, he waited for her to find a suitable pace. "So, can you walk?"
"It hurts a bit but I can definitely walk."
Of course, that would happen to her now, how appropriate; so, if he tried to help her in any kind of way, it would look another to anyone watching – say Hijikata – and he'd have to explain himself. "You won't have to carry me, don't worry," she read his mind and smiled "it isn't that bad."
She said what she said, but still limped her way to their meeting point; she was holding on to his arm for dear life, struggling to find her equilibrium. At least now it didn't look suggestive, that was the good part. The bad part was her kimono, even if it was only a little bit, was stained by the dirty snow. She did swat it away, but the moisture remained, especially when it caught the lamp lights. He seemed to mind more than she did though; but, how couldn't he? It was too pretty to ruin because of one drunkard.
Due to the incident though, they arrived a little later than planned; they realised when they arrived and the rest were already there, patiently waiting under the huge tree's branches. Knowing what could follow, she made a big show of her problem and pain without even being told, something he was grateful for. It was little things like this he appreciated about her and triggered his respect; small things, usually going unnoticed, she did for him without asking for anything in return, simply because it was the nice thing to do. It warmed his heart; it ignited his feelings; and it was exactly why he had to cut her out of his life.
"We are very sorry we are late, but I am afraid the fault is mine."
"The fault was definitely not yours," he interrupted her apologies "a man he fell on her, too drunk to stand and crushed her in a second. I tried to pull her away, but I didn't make it in time."
Due to her making a big deal out of not being able to step on her right foot completely, everyone looked alarmed. "Are you alright?"
"I am well father; sadly, most of his weight fell on the same foot I hurt when I was kidnapped."
"Oh honey!"
"Sister!"
The women rushed to crowd her, ask her all sorts of questions and make sure she was feeling otherwise well, and Tokio rushed to reassure them she was alright, other than the ankle. "I can still walk to the spot you reserved for us," she told her father who seemed downcast "there is no issue."
"Maybe it would be better if-,"
"Tis alright, Kondou-sama." Never would Tokio interrupt a man of his stature while speaking if it wasn't something like this "Saitou-san will help me make the climb."
Matsudaira was the first to step up. "…as you wish." He turned to her father and Kondou, who seemed to be the more hesitant ones. "Saitou-san will do an admirable job of keeping her on her feet, yes?" Saitou nodded absolutely. "Then let us go."
Her father had picked a wonderful spot on the south hillside for them to view the fireworks. Naturally, when her father said he "reserved" the spot, he in fact meant he told people where he'd be going so none other would come close; if the Aizu-han and one of the richest lords of the entire prefecture wanted a place to themselves, they were more than welcome to it after all. And, of course, the Takagi patriarch chose the best spot for them to watch the fireworks. It was sad that Saitou, who had been dragged all the way to this northern place under the guise of doing just that, would never actually see the fireworks from up close. Because somewhere at the middle of their ascent, she started giving out. Her foot hurt more and more, he could see it; her hobbling had gotten worse and she put extreme force into holding on to him, until she finally said: "Excuse me, everyone, I need a small break."
All halted, looking at her concerned. "I shall…" she looked all around her, craning her neck "sit at that bench over there for five minutes, to rest my ankle; when I feel I can walk again, I'll come meet with you."
"No honey!"
"Tokio-chan, we can't go without you!"
And more protests were heard from everyone, but she simply shook her head to stop them, a sad smile on her lips. "I will be fine; and I have seen the fireworks many times. Our guests haven't though and I should hate to be the one responsible for them missing out what they came here to see. It is a great spectacle. Please, go on without me."
Truth be told, most wanted to go on, but didn't want to say it out loud. And she just gave them the perfect opportunity. "Are you s-?"
"I am positive. Please go and enjoy the night. I shall be fine—I'll come meet you as soon as I can."
She looked at one man with the edge of her eyes: Hijikata could sense something brewing, but what could he say in light of this? She played it too right. "I have but one request. Can one of you stay here with me? It's too dark to-"
She hadn't even finished her sentence and the men started bombarding her with "me" and "I" and "count on me"l; how adorable, she thought, but they weren't the ones she wanted. Finally, that one did speak though.
"I have been helping her all this time; I'll stay with her." He gave Hijikata a pacifying side glance. "I should have seen him coming anyway; no need to burden anyone else with my inadequacy."
"It wasn't your fault, Saitou-san," Tokio said through chuckles "but I appreciate the offer; so be it. Thank you all for offering though."
She didn't wait for them to go – she did manage to see her mother's meaningful look though – ; hopping on one foot, she made it to the bench with Saitou's help, which was three metres to the left. Out of the main path, it rested on a small plateau that overlooked the wrong side of the hill, the one away from the fireworks. It was a simple stone bench though, they could easily look the other way…but the rest of the hillside would hide some of the view. Neither seemed to mind though.
So, he helped her down and they both stayed there, her spreading her hurt leg out and him standing stoically silent on her side. Once the rest were out of eyeshot, he spoke.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
Her expression softened to something teasing. "It doesn't hurt all that much," just as he was about to call her out, she chuckled "but you did say you wanted us to talk." She would never forget the look on his face nor the speed with which he caught on. "So, let us talk."
Ah shit; he was unprepared for this. Well, he was supposed to be prepared and when he urged her to talk before, he had emotionally braced himself, but now he was taken by surprise and suddenly, his words jumbled. Nothing went in the right order in his head and he feared he'd mumble or do something equally embarrassing if he opened his mouth right now. Right. What was it he wanted to say again? How?
"I found out that…" does he just tell her outright? Should he ease her into it? Maybe the direct approach was better, it was like him, too. But the concerned way she was looking up at him rendered him speechless. His heart felt like an invisible hand squeezed it hard, trying to get rid of its juices.
"Yes?"
"We must stop seeing each other." She was stunned. "To be precise, I believe we must stop meeting each other in the middle of the night for whatever reason. Or any other hour when it's on purpose. It…has to stop."
She lowered her head. It was dark and he couldn't see her face but shit, that was the universal sign a person was about to cry. His heart rate increased and he struggled to find the words to continue, fearing it would cause her to break. "I know it's sudden, but it's for the best."
Silence. And she wouldn't raise her head! "I don't mean to hurt you, but you must understand. It really is for the best."
A long sigh was released and finally a reaction: she looked up, high in the sky and moonlight lit her face, much like that fateful night he found her sneaking out, crying; but tonight, there were no tear paths on her cheeks. No running noses. She looked…calm. Oh. "You're taking this better than I expected."
Her lips pulled up a fraction but it was the saddest smile he had ever seen on a person. "Hijikata finally had enough, is it?" A self-depreciating snort escaped. "If I'm being entirely honest, I knew this would happen. Ever since you told me he read the letters, I feared he'd…besides, my mother also advised me the same thing."
His eyes became smaller. "Your mother? She knows?"
She nodded slowly, intertwining her fingers as she slumped forward. "She's my mother, Hajime; I tell her everything." He couldn't argue with that logic. "She only wants what's best for me; and she likes you, actually. Says you are a good man, so, she says, I should…" She had to stop and take a deep breath "I should let you go."
The sigh that followed came out shaking, her tears starting to form. "Said just because" her voice shook now, too "I am doomed to misery, doesn't mean I should condemn you with me." She took another long breath. "Thus, once we return to Kyoto, I should keep my distance."
She sobbed pitiably but didn't hide her face in her hands, nor did she allow the moisture escape her eyes. "And I see she wasn't the only one who thought so." She didn't dare look at him though, she kept her eyes peeled to the stars or the ground. "I mean, I can understand. Mother is right, she always is; none of this is right nor is it fair to you. And I know; and because I know and I too only want" she had to make another pause, to find her composure "what's best for you, I…I decided to do as she says."
As if her mother was there to chide her for her poor posture, she straightened her back and folded her hands in her lap, head hanging gracefully. "Thus, I agree; we should stop meeting."
She stood there gracefully for a long moment; just as gracefully as she cried.
Something cracked; he heard that dreadful sound ringing in his ears, felt it reverberate in his chest. "Your mother's right."
"I know; I'm sorry. I am so shameless, so selfish. I am so sorry!" She was done crying in her lady-like way, ugly sobs and fat tears were now everywhere; she nearly doubled over, face in her hands. "And now because of me, you can no longer even gather your information as you wish, forgive me. I grew clingy and insufferable, just because you treated me like a real person; this is all because of my greed. I…am so…deeply sorry."
"Your mother is right," he simply repeated, making her sob harder "it isn't fair. In what world is this fair? Why do I have to…?" He had to close his eyes for a brief moment. "It's not just your fault, Tokio; I am to blame also."
He knew he had to say these; seeing her torture and blame herself and herself alone for their predicament, made his pride suffer. And even if his ego would, too, with what he was about to reveal, he had no right to keep silent.
"When you told me you were leaving that night, and for such a long time, I grew so angry...! Didn't even want to speak to you, I felt slighted;" he ignored how her head snapped up to him "and yet all of that simply evaporated when I received that first letter. I fell into a routine and without even realising, I started looking forward to them; and when I saw you again after so long…!" He shook his head. "I started feeling jealous when my friends would compliment you; I almost attacked Sagara when I found out you gave him your ribbon, and every single time Harada would suggest you poured his drink, I could just smack him! I even felt jealous of that stupid cat for sleeping in your lap."
He spoke in such a matter of fact manner, it really threw her off, yet, at the same time, razed her heart. And he would avoid her eyes constantly, making a point to inflect with his evasions.
"When your maid told me, you couldn't sleep before I came here, I was so pleased with myself—I wasn't the only one suffering. You're not the only one who's selfish, Tokio; and maybe I'm cruel, too because I also enjoy you being possessive and jealous because it feeds my ego because, once again, I'm not the only one feeling this way…and I…find you compelling."
He looked at her but she wanted him to look away. All the emotions he didn't express with his voice were now staring at her with an absolute resolve that almost made her cry again. But she vowed to herself not to avoid his truth.
"I wish my position wasn't so inferior to yours; that yours wasn't so elevated compared to mine; or, that you didn't have to marry someone you don't even know. But no matter my wishes, reality is what it is and whatever this is…it needs to stop."
Because like hell he was admitting he was in love with her. She got enough out of him for a life time.
Sighing, he did what he hadn't dared so far and sat next to her on the bench. He noticed how her eyes wouldn't leave him, tears ran too much that they ran dry; or his revelations simply surprised her enough to stop them altogether. No matter what, he knew she kept watching him, waiting for the conclusion. He looked ahead, over the hill and above the small tree line, dusted with white. "So, it stops tonight; seems fitting, too. New year, new start."
"New year, new start," she repeated like a mantra but then a snort of laughter and depression escaped her. "Like a bad habit." That one you always decided to quit next day, next week, next month…and ended up needing the new year to get rid of it. It wasn't too far away from the truth actually; simply, this was the first time they decided to quit. It better be the last, too.
An eerie silence stretched between the two of them, as they looked over the treeline, high in the sky; they were waiting for the fireworks to go off, to signify the dreaded start of this lonely, desolate new year. They knew that wasn't meant to happen for another twenty minutes, but what else could they do? She simply refused to move before she had to; she wanted to stay there more, feel his warmth, stand close enough to feel him. She didn't want to go anywhere. She only wanted to be as close to him as time and he allowed…
Familiar weight hit his left arm and he didn't have to turn to know it was her head that rested on his arm. The trademark clutching of his fabrics at the back followed suit, just as he had expected. But then, something quite unexpected happened and he had to take a deep breath to regain his composure: one of her hands dug underneath his haori and grabbed the outer layer of his dark kimono. If he had the capacity to blush, he would have.
"If you didn't do things like this we wouldn't even be here on the first place," he murmured an accusation but without any real bite in his voice.
"You are free to move as you please."
So, basically, she was throwing in his face he could have stopped this at any moment; that was fair. She wasn't wrong either; he felt too good to move away before and now was no different. A humourless smile etched his face for a second. He deserved what he got, every bit of it. They both did. Without another word, he raised his left hand, only to bring it down and around her waist; he scooped her closer, held her tight. She never protested—in fact, she only positioned her head better, leaning on his chest. She could even hear his heartbeat. Strong and steady, just like him. Closing her eyes, she snuggled closer, even daring to put her second hand under the haori, to grab at his kimono and stayed like that for a long time.
Warm and protected, she started drifting off.
"Wake up, hime-sama, or you'll miss the fireworks."
In a haze, she tried to pry her eyes open; had she really slept? And the sounds didn't wake her? But he wasn't lying, she saw the sparks spreading in the sky, forming all sort of beautiful patterns. Green, yellow, red, purple, blue…they illuminated the night even if they were so far away, colouring their faces. For a long moment, they simply watched. And then she remembered what this meant and felt her throat constrict.
"Happy New Year, Tokio."
"Happy New Year, Hajime; I wish you happiness and success."
"Wish me success for now. We'll see about the other one."
She felt pathetic and small so she took to leaning on to him again. A deep breath was drawn. "I wish this moment lasted forever."
He snorted. "I don't; it's not enough."
She knew but that was what broke her heart. Because "it's all I'll ever have;" she doubted she could feel like this again "and all we'll ever get. It'll have to do."
He couldn't deny that. "It'll have to do." After all, he knew the truth, too and no matter how much he wanted this not to be a permanent goodbye, he knew he had no other choice. Running away and shirking his responsibilities, after all the help he received and the debts he shouldered, wasn't possible. His ego would not allow it. But he prayed with all his heart she never put it to the test.
It felt like an eternity later, or maybe simple seconds, that Saitou stood from the bench; she felt cold for more reasons than one. "Look hurt hime-sama, our company is coming back."
Had the fireworks really stopped? She took to watching the skies once again and indeed, there was nothing. No longer than a minute, she saw her father and mother appear behind the hill, too. Did he hear them? Amazing. Although, she didn't really need to look hurt; she felt more pain than ever. As soon as they were spotted, the entire crowd hurried towards them, all conversation pausing, and once they were close enough they all started with the usual concerns and remarks, asking her how she was and so on so forth. All but her mother that is, who said nothing, merely patted her head.
"You know, dear, you look more pained than when we left you," her father commented keenly "are you sure your ankle is better? Your colour is not great, too. I mean, you are the doctor, but…"
Why did her father have to notice something like this now? He never did! She felt ashamed again, looking down and away; he was about to pull her to her feet, too only to stop and make said observation. Coupled with Hijikata's sudden approach, she felt like fainting.
"Your father is right, Tokio-san," was all the older man said, but there was a glint in his eye "is your ankle worse?" He stared right into her soul. Something about the way he looked at her brought all of her feelings back to the surface and she could feel her eyes welling up. She dared not look away; she only nodded, mutely. "Can you step on your leg?" She shook her head once. "Would you like me to carry that weight for you? Saitou has been troubled enough for one night, after all." She nodded yes, once; he immediately turned to the older men. "Does anyone mind if I carry Tokio-san to the house?" When they too assured that was probably the best option, he nodded and took off his haori. "You can go on; I figure I'll walk slower with her. Tokio-san, please hold on to my haori for me, will you?"
She accepted as he gave it to her; she never stopped looking at him, fearing the tears would spill at any moment. And Hijikata was a smart man, read her mood, her face, her body language; he didn't move in a way to break eye contact until everyone had bypassed them. Then he leaned down and put his hands under her knees and back and he lifted. At the same time, her head hit his chest and he felt them, tears, soaking his clothes.
Knowing he was a safe distance from the last person, he asked perplexed "did you fight?" She shook her head. "Then what happened?"
"What you wanted…"
Oh.
He was stunned enough to stop walking altogether, even for a moment. "Did you agree to stop seeing each other?" She nodded, face now hidden in his clothes. "Why?"
"Because you were right and wrong at the same time." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I feel attachments aren't that quick to form but you don't notice when they do. I put too much time and effort into something I didn't even realise and now…I can't breathe anymore. Maybe that's why you said they are quick—because they form over time but sneakily and before you know it, you're crying for something you shouldn't even be feeling about."
Hijikata sighed. Young love, so troublesome; another reason he hated it was it made him remember his stupid youth, too. "It's for the best."
"I know." Her voice was hoarse from her crying, silent and discreet, much like her.
"Then cry and feel as depressed as you like but know, it'll get better. It always does."
"You promise?"
"I don't have to," she gave him a look "I know so." His indirect been there, done that made her feel a little better; subdued, she lay on his chest.
"I'll hold you to that."
"You'll see; time makes everything better."
Only it didn't.
A/N: It'll get better. Time heals all wounds. It ain't a platitude if it's true, right?
Ah, young love! It's that age when it feels like it's the end of the world, but it really isn't. They are barely 18/20 after all, it's reasonable. Of course, this is a tale of romance, so hold on to your hearts and see you next chapter dearies! Drop a line, if you can, tell me your thoughts.
Love y'all~~,
FAI