A/N: Heeeeeeeeey lovely people of the internet! I have neglected you, I know. Forgive me darlings. BUT, I have awesome news. Guys, I'm moving. I'm finally moving out and in with my longtime boyfriend. We found a great apartment, fully furnished, with great spaces. As you can guess, that's a very time consuming process, looking for the right place and all that, plus, it was the holidays and then it was the return from the holidays and we couldn't sit still for a minute. In fact, the only reason I got to finish this behemoth was I finally had two days off. Finally.
Obviously, nothing is checked, for the sake of speed, but I think I caught the most glaring mistakes. I hope. I revised this like, one time xD Sorry for the very late update y'all but good things happened! And I didn't want to rush them and jinx it. So, wish me luck, ya peeps! I hope this goes well.
I also hope y'all remember what happened last chapter. Ugh, I'm such a late updater, I'm so sorry.
Historical Facts: None for now.
Timeline: September 3rd - September 15th, 1864.
A fine lady...
...and resignation.
When Tokio left the hot springs, she had a new, fairly good understanding of how Ayame-san's mind worked at the moment: it was Saitou Hajime oriented. She didn't make any efforts to hide it, she flaunted it, put it out there for the world to see. She never admitted it, granted, but eleven out of ten things she asked about, were somehow related to him. And when Ayame found out about his recent, quite intimate assignment of keeping her safe twenty-four seven, she was almost frantic.
Questions came pouring in from everywhere!
What happened, why was it needed, who ordered it, why was he the one tasked with it; Tokio felt her patience reach alarming levels at the time…but she couldn't confidently dismiss or think ill of her. Ayame was acting as it was to be expected: as a love-struck woman. One who, if Tokio was to decode accurately all the information Ayame provided her with, was in love with this person long before Tokio knew him; long before Tokio ever came to Kyoto; in fact, Tokio had less immediate family members than Ayame years of pining after him.
They were never childhood friends, Tokio decided, simply she was running after him using the guise of his sister being her friend. Sure, they were indeed good friends with his sister, but not with him—he was her ideal, her yearning, her goal. More likely, his heart. Ayame confessed at least this to her: when he was branded a traitor to the family and, on the surface, had to cease all communications with his past life, she was devastated, because that included her, too. And these two and a half "insignificant" years he spent away, she felt breezed past her, now that she could see him again.
Tokio's heart ached.
And it did for two reasons. The first one was, obviously, to see she had such a fierce contender. A woman he knew so long ago, who knew him so well, who spent all that much time with him long before she ever showed up, how could she compete with that? Objectively, Ayame had dibs; that was what her "girl code" was telling her. The oldest the crush, the biggest the priority. And goddamn it, did it hurt.
The other was, it was painful to realise how much she related to this woman, this vibrant, beautiful and altogether exquisite person. Not because she was all that of course, Tokio didn't think of herself as such…but she could say, with conviction, she knew exactly how Ayame felt. She really related. The nostalgia, not so much; the need to be around him, see him and know he's doing well though, certainly; that visceral feeling when he was out in some battle, fighting in the war, so vivid still in her mind. Ayame's worry some beauty of the capital might capture his heart, one not suitable for him, she felt it, too. Although, she had to admit, maybe she was the one Ayame feared.
No matter; Ayame was the one Tokio feared of. They were even.
And after all that, how could she ever wrong Ayame and give a negative assessment of her to her father? She was, in her bitterness, prepared to write lies or maybe exaggerate any small flaws she found out, to deter him from blessing this union. She had almost made up her mind to act petty and cruel for once. Serve her own purpose and bury Ayame under a false account of her character or actions.
But in the end, she couldn't do it.
When the first three days passed, still no present bought for one reason or the other, she couldn't do it. Ayame's eyes sparkled every time she would look at Saitou; her voice would go up a tone, almost a different pitch, a sweeter one, reserved just for him. Tokio could tell when the other woman's heartbeat quickened judging by how he would look at her and it drove her insane to think she was caught up in this stupid, completely unnecessary love triangle, all because of her father.
A father as meddling as his daughter.
And what's worse, she caught herself resignedly rooting for her competition. Oh boy, it truly was insane, absolutely mad, because who would cheer for not themselves? Her, apparently. Under normal circumstances that would not be the case, naturally. But now? When she knew Hajime was partial to Tokio to a large extent yet begrudgingly so, how could she not want to cheer for Ayame? When Tokio knew whatever they felt for one another was illicit and frowned upon, despite it being real—or maybe exactly because of that, how could she not want to turn him towards a path he'd eventually be happy in?
Ayame loved him, she had no doubt. And he…he could easily learn to love her in return. With time, he'd forget about Tokio completely. Ayame's soft hands and elegant smiles would soothe him, make him forget. If these two were married, two people who went well with one another would be happy in the long run, with a prosperous family and a decent living. She could picture it: Ayame, the dutiful, traditional wife at home, taking care of their children as he was off to work, Buddha knows where, making sure his family was safe and protected, as well as the rest of Japan. He'd come home tired, she'd greet him with a kiss, draw him a bath, food already being cooked; he'd return her welcome and hold her for a moment…then he'd hand over his sword and go for his bath, as she'd put it away.
It was uncanny; she could almost see it happen in real time, right in front of her. How odd though, she felt no satisfaction, as she thought she would from fantasies like that. Maybe the fact she wasn't the star of the quaint little scene was to blame. Then again, if it was her who was the star, maybe it wouldn't go like that. Maybe she'd be too caught up in the things others expected from her due to her position and he'd be miserable; maybe she'd be lucky and she'd have her practise instead and because of patients, she couldn't be home to greet the one person who mattered to her most. Or maybe, because she had decided to pursue a dead-end fancy, he wound up dead.
She hadn't lived it, but the regret was there and too bitter to the taste. She could never be with him, after all. They would never work. She wasn't quiet enough—too wilful and spoiled, a regular hime-sama, as he would tease her. And he wasn't wrong. In the odd case he wasn't chased away or killed for it, their love would not be enough to sustain them; they'd be happy for the first few years but then everything would wear them down. Slowly, but certainly, he would regret choosing her and all of her responsibilities. And slowly, but certainly, he would come to resent her and the love that once fed them, would turn into hate.
And slowly but certainly, she would wither away.
So, it was much better for him to find the start a little difficult but be entirely too happy in the long run. It was for the best. His best; and Ayame's; and her own sake, too who would want to be trapped in such a marriage?
At least, that's what she convinced herself of, as she wrote a wonderful letter to her father, exalting the woman and stating over and over again, what an extraordinary match they made. The only problem was, she had to write it three times, because the damn paper kept getting wet…!
Tears are too hard to control, she decided. Time to get the fourth piece of paper out.
.
.
It'd barely been a week since Ayame had arrived, and the wedding was announced to be postponed for the end of the month, due to unforeseen circumstances. Tokio, who was in the know, knew those circumstances to be that the bride's parents had not yet expressed their blessing properly, so they had to wait for it to happen. The temple the bride was to pray at had encountered some internals problems also, thus it was slightly moved.
No, it wasn't cancelled, as Tokoyami's father would wearily assure people; and no, there was no need to give the gifts in advance, all in due time. The only difference would be that people who travelled to Kyoto for the wedding, will have to be inconvenienced a tad more and for that, everyone had his deepest, most sincere apologies. And when little gifts from the groom's father made the rounds at the capital, no one complained further.
Still, the problem remained and so would Ayame, who naturally extended her visit. And that was the real consequence, as far as Tokio was concerned. How much more would she be forced to endure?
"You were right, Tokio," Saitou said out of the blue to her, as they both waited for Ayame to try on a new kimono "did I tell you that?"
They had gone to buy one for the wedding. None of the previous ones would do, and her own father, not Tokio's for once, had given her adequate money to buy a new, impressive one. Thus, all three of them had come to Matsudaira's favourite tailor, with his discount of course, so that Ayame could choose what to wear. And because she didn't trust the opinion of just a man, she of course had Tokio tag along. Not that she minded; she was unwilling to leave them alone, even if she had made up her mind they were perfect for each other.
Still, Saitou's proclamation immediately put her on alert; at other times, those words would be uttered with shame and would be received with gloat. Yet now, his matter of fact tone proved to be most alarming. And when she turned to look at him, she saw the pretence of detachment on his face and was actually scared of what was to follow.
She chose to play dumb though. "I am right about many things, so if you could narrow it down for me, I'd be most thankful."
He fought back something akin to irritation yet amusement. "Ayame; she seems to indeed harbour some feelings for me."
Her throat constricted; the pit of her stomach disappeared completely. This…was it.
"I hadn't noticed before because I've always been a favourite of hers, but apparently it's true. After Okita pointed it out, and Hijikata informed me of something he heard her say to Matsudaira-sama, although I still do not see it, I can no longer deny it."
Her heart did something where it beat irregularly and she could not breathe properly, while everything in her mind became hazy. "So, you were right. She must have some sort of intention for me. After all, she wouldn't bother travelling all the way here for my sake, if that wasn't the case."
He watched as she struggled to form words and mistook her inability to be coherent, as anger. He looked away. "I know this displeases you, but please don't make that face."
"I'm not making a face," she managed to string together after a long time.
"Yes, you are, because you know I still have to go to the wedding with her, I can't change that."
"I know; and I knew. I have been in her company longer than you have; I could tell she was infatuated with you, without you confirming it."
"Right." Was it his idea, or was she taking this a little too well? "So, you're not mad?"
Heh, she was many things right now, mad was definitely one of them; mad at herself, the world, him…but not Ayame. "I am not."
"Why?"
"Because…I can't be."
A sad smile, and she turned away. He needed no more signs to understand this was her way of saying, end of conversation. But her reaction was underwhelming to say the least. He expected an eruption; all he got, was cinders. He had to take a step back and regard her very well to make sure they were speaking about the same topic and that was indeed what she thought. What cryptic words were those? She couldn't be mad? Why? She was pretty mad at the idea he had to take Ayame to the wedding before he knew of the woman's feelings. Now that he did, it didn't matter? Had anyone told her and she'd taken something to soothe her temper?
It…made no sense.
But he was no simpleton. She did not want to talk about it at the moment, and it made a semblance of sense if one considered Ayame was in the next room, wrapping fabrics around her to see which colour and design fit her best, so he would not press. But that unsettling vibe that came from her, was worrisome. And against his better judgement, he would drop it for now. Because a suspicion snuck into his brain right that moment, and he felt angered and defeated at the same time.
It had better not be it though, because, if it were, she deserved all she would get for it later. But first, he would have to confirm the suspicion and he knew an excellent way to do it, in a week from now, when the ground would be laid best.
.
.
"Ah, if it isn't Okita-san," Ayame spotted the shorter man across the hall, looking all around him. "Have you come to make your friend's apologies for being so horribly late?"
It was evident she was teasing but it was also evident she was honestly miffed about this. Okita gave a kind smile nonetheless and a deep bow. "You are not that far off, actually! I came to fill in for him." He was very theatrical and spry. "Saitou-san has to deal with some unexpected duties at HQ; he can't make it today and most possibly not tomorrow either. You'll have to excuse him, yes? He sends his deepest apologies."
"Oh…I see…well, it can't be helped, I suppose." She had dimmed so much, it was ridiculous. "But that's alright! You'll do just as well, Okita-san."
Her smile was forced and so was her cheeriness. Tokio, who was watching the exchange silently from behind a wall, could feel that constriction around her heart at witnessing even more evidence of Ayame's pure feelings. At the same time though, something felt wrong. Saitou would never send anyone to make his apologies, ever. He'd prefer leaving her hanging until he could face her properly again, not send another.
Then her heart constricted for a very different reason. Something had happened to him. She just knew. And when Okita's eyes met hers and he slid them as discreetly as he could outside, where a carriage that wasn't there before awaited, she felt her lungs stop working. She gave a curt nod and disappeared behind the wall before Ayame could start looking for her.
Heading the other way as soundlessly as possible, she opted to take the shortest route to her medicine box and then head outside…through the window. Yes, it was unconventional and a little desperate, but she really didn't want to be seen by Ayame; she didn't want to worry her. Undoubtedly, Okita would keep her away from there, so it would be fine. And if she was being completely honest, she would like to have this one part of his life untainted by the other woman's presence, no matter how mean-spirited it sounded even in her own head considering the circumstances. But she didn't care.
Instead, she rushed to the carriage, as fast as her box would allow her and unceremoniously threw it next to the driver – who did or did not glare at her for her bad manners –. Then she scurried inside, from the side that wasn't visible to the compound and closed the door behind her.
"Tokio-san."
She jumped out of her skin! She wasn't expecting anyone to be in here…but at least it was Nagakura Shinpachi, a man she knew and trusted. She put a hand over her heart as the man tried to push his smile at her reaction away.
"Shin-san, it's good to see you."
She felt the carriage move immediately, without anyone telling the driver to go. That worried her because that meant he was instructed to do so, by Okita most likely. The fact the carriage was there worried her on the first place but she had decided to overlook it, thinking they wanted her out of there without alarming Ayame.
"You, too; it's been a while. And I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances, but…I'm afraid Saitou-san needs your medical expertise."
There it was; the knot grew bigger. "What happened, Shin-san? Okita could not say anything."
"Makes sense," he mused out loud "Saitou was ambushed by the patriots. But Saitou is Saitou, so he had them on the ropes for the most part. Until, from what we gathered, the Battousai appeared."
Her breath caught.
"They fought for a while, but then even more people joined the fight and he was outnumbered; until help arrived, he became badly injured."
She was appalled; she was angry; but most of all, she was scared. Nagakura patted her back, easier to do seeing he sat next to her and tried to comfort her. "At least he was well enough to boast the Battousai was in no better shape or form when he left him."
She snorted a pathetic laugh, a lousy attempt to hide her sentiments. "Don't worry, Tokio-san; he is strong; and you're on your way. He will be fine."
"But why did you wait so long before fetching me?"
"There were…issues to take care of first. Don't forget, we do have a doctor with us now, who turned out utterly useless in this case and it took a while to convince him to allow someone else to look at him."
She clicked her tongue, very unlady like. "What convinced him after all?" There was hesitation in his eyes. "Shin-san…!"
"Saitou fell unconscious." She glared; he shrugged, helplessly. "It wasn't up to me, Tokio-san, don't make that face, please."
"I'll give that man a piece of my mind when I see him."
"Please do; it will help us all. Until then, relax your face, I beg you; you are kind of scary."
He was right, she knew. But she couldn't help but feel upset about this, how could she not? What if anything happened to him? She'd rather he married to Ayame tomorrow if it meant he was going to be safe for the rest of his life. She shut her eyes; she chose to focus on what she could do, and that was relax and be at her best when she'd have to look at Hajime's injuries. A very deep breath later, she turned to Nagakura evenly.
"What's up with you then?" He gave her a doubtful look. "What? We have to pass the time somehow…"
Before they knew it, both had lapsed into polite, formal but informal conversation about her maid, their affair and the small ripples it created. At the same time, Nagakura knew to steer clear from any mention of Saitou and Ayame; he didn't know why, but it felt like it was for the best. Some part deep within him, that same one that had filed all those things about her away, told him to act this way. And wouldn't you know it, it was correct.
A long time passed until they reached HQ and he could tell they did, not because he saw it, but Tokio grew silent; and with her waning interest came the fast appearing building. And just like that, Tokio was ready to pounce at a second's notice. Nagakura then realised that unconscious part of him was right to advise as it did; and then he finally pieced it together. It took him a year, congratulations Shinpachi you oaf, but he did: the way Tokio was acting savoured a little too much of a concerned partner than an involved doctor. He blinked.
Tokio was in love with him.
And for all intents and purposes, Saitou knew. His feelings would be harder to determine though…! Then he remembered: he was displeased when Harada suggested Tokio pours sake for them; how furious he became when Harada got his wish, some months later, in this very same building; the ferocity with which he protected the Matsudaira compound during the war. And how the real reason she was finally asked to come was that Saitou, in his delirious fever state, kept asking for her in his sleep.
Saitou was…in love with her, too?
Nagakura gaped after Tokio, finally connecting the dots, who jumped out before the carriage properly stopped and grabbed her medicine box from the driver's seat – who still might or might not have glared at her for her lack of manners – leaving him running after someone once more.
Several small explosions went off in his head. Did anyone know—did Hijikata?
He considered for a moment. He recalled how Hijikata was reluctant to call on Tokio for this emergency, despite it being tailored to her talents; how on the other hand Okita was too insistent, insinuating at something and finally convincing not just sensei, but their vice commander, too. He concluded at least these two knew; and now he was the third. And it still felt like too much responsibility thrust upon him. A sigh. Why couldn't Saitou fall for a maid, much like he did? Why did he have to always be the overachiever and go for the very same woman he advised everyone against because of her unattainability?
How ironic, Saitou, he accused but at the same time, he couldn't help but think…if one of them would be able to pull this off in any kind of way, it would be him. A slight smile formed as he followed Tokio inside. She was so distraught, fleeting from place to place, commanding people left and right, she truly cared for him.
Suddenly, he felt jealous. That bastard, lying stabbed and feverish on a futon in his room was still luckier than the entirety of the men who called this building their home; to have a woman like her in a state because of them, who else…? Shaking his head, he made up his mind. Once he woke up, he'd smack him right between the eyes. Because only then would he be able to do it.
.
"Tokio-san."
She heard the familiar voice of Hijikata calling out to her, as she passed corridor after corridor in a hurry; she never stopped, but did turn to where the sound came from, acknowledging his existence, therefore making it proper for him to catch up.
"Have you been informed of his condition?"
"I was told he's feverish and injured; I suspect infection but I cannot be too sure before I examine him myself. I'd like the help of your doctor, though; two people who know what they're—"
"Forget the doctor," Hijikata stopped that line of thought "he claims to be too insulted to help you, holed himself up in his room."
"Are you implying he has left his sick patient's side before my arrival!?"
If she wasn't walking at the same time, she would have most definitely shaken the man in front of her by the shoulders. "What gives him the right? If I ever get my hands on him, he's going to regret ever walking out!"
"As amusing as your threats may be, the fact remains Saitou has been left unattended for the past hour; please give us your instructions immediately. Nagakura and Harada will be helping you in your task."
She held her tongue back from swearing with a valiant effort. Not at all surprised by the sudden appearance of swordsmen around her anymore, she simply nodded as she gathered her wits. "I need a fresh batch of cold water and many pieces of fabric; also, clean clothes that have not yet been worn. All the rest, I carry in my box. Shin-san, you go for the clothes; the rest I leave up to Harada-san."
Hijikata was the one who dismissed them just as Tokio had finished talking, who was now in the lead. He had dexterously pried the box from her fingers, its heftiness surprising him, and took a right; then a left and four minutes later, he was drawing the door to him room open.
Hajime
Her breath was caught at the sight of him: lying on his back, sweating half his body weight onto the futon, he was nearly twisting. All that stopped him was that deep-seated sense of discipline, as if he knew someone would need to take care of him and tried to accommodate them, even in this state. Then she noticed the cuts, slashes and bruises all over him and she had to stop for a fraction of a second, to brace herself.
Then she was all business.
As if programmed, the woman sat on her knees right next to the man. She didn't even need to snap her fingers for her tools to appear next to her, Hijikata was always a step ahead.
"He's been like this ever since we called for you," he finally said, as she took his temperature. Her expression, he did not like. "Is it bad?"
"He runs a high fever, yes," she mused "but it can be fought. I just need what I requested. Until I can have that, my first priority is his wounds." She had started preparing her things already. "I have my concoctions here to disinfect them properly, but you, Hijikata-sama, will have to hold him down. They will undoubtedly sting and he will, undoubtedly, move. But I need him steady. Now—…yes?"
Sounds came from Saitou, a mix of moaning and grunting, almost as soon as he heard her voice; she instinctively took hold of his hand and waited for an answer.
"Tokio…?"
He had spoken her name; her heartbeat quickened. "Yes, it is me. I'm here. I'll do my best."
"Then that's…enough…"
He relaxed; his hand fell in hers and his breathing became even.
"Is he dead?" a concerned Harada, who just walked in, asked.
She shook her head. "No."
"Then did he faint?"
She rolled her eyes at the second man that walked in, Nagakura-san, who looked just as concerned as his friend. "No, he just…calmed down."
"Aw, that's cute Tokio-chan; that means he has faith in you…! Or, your skills at least."
"Souji!"
Okita had come out of nowhere! This once, she did look over her shoulder, a little alarmed. At everyone's questioning gazes, he shrugged. "Surprise, surprise; Ayame-san did not want to spend time with me, so I returned as fast as I could. Thankfully, I managed to drive her away from the thought of visiting here." He shook his head. "She asked three times. But I decided to keep her in the dark until I heard your assessment, Tokio-chan."
They all looked at her, who was already drenching the cloths they provided her with in the cold water. "I cannot speculate before taking a closer look at his wounds, but he looks like he won't be out for more than two days." She spoke confidently as she removed his hitatare carefully and applied the strips of wet fabric everywhere there was skin exposed, except the places that were also slashed. "But then another two days rest I think would be best; all in all, four days off duty."
"Blast," Okita swore as Hijikata nodded and then left, having heard what he needed to know. "There's no way I can persuade Ayame-san to stay away for so long."
"…maybe you won't have to. I'm thinking of telling her to come here tomorrow." She said it without looking at the short man, too busy focusing on the patient and too timid to face his stare.
"What a nice woman you are Tokio-san" Harada praised. "You too have heard of Ayame-san's not really discreet interest in Saitou, eh?"
She nodded mutely. "I don't have to be told though; I can see it in the way she acts."
"Ah, right; you are always together after all." Harada gave a boastful laugh, unconcerned about the patient after Tokio's assurance and her involvement that had already calmed Saitou down. "Is she that obvious?"
She nodded, a small smile on her lips. It, too was muted, like someone had painted it on her face and it wasn't really there. "So, you heard and wish to see them together, is that it?" Harada patted her back when she bowed once to show her affirmation. "You are truly kind, Tokio-san."
She would not look up now no matter what; after those words were uttered, she could feel Okita's glare on the back of her head. Her pathetic smile in return to those words, escorted Harada out. She heard the door closing and, knowing what was coming, she sighed.
"Are you serious?"
Tokio stopped whatever she was doing and looked up startled; it wasn't Okita, who was just as surprised as she was, but Nagakura who spoke. "You can't be, Tokio-san."
"P, pardon?"
"Why would you want them to be together? Aren't you interested in Saitou-san, too?"
Tokio gaped; Okita's eyes became too wide. There was silence…and then, the shorter man burst out laughing. "Souji-san, please stop laughing; Shin-san, what do you mean I'm-…? I can't be…you—"
"Save it, Tokio-chan, he's not a simpleton. And exactly because he's not one, he knows not to talk about this to anyone other than the three present in this room right now, yes?" Nagakura nodded; she blushed. "So, answer the man's questions. Are you serious, Tokio-chan? Why would you want them together?"
"…" She looked away. "I want him to be safe and happy. That's why I'm here and that's why I will gladly bring Ayame-san here tomorrow. The decision lies with him, obviously, but that's all I'm going to say about this matter."
While she wasn't looking, the men exchanged looks. They were having an entire conversation actually, which due to her shyness, she missed completely. Whatever new piece of information she provided them with, they nodded or looked accordingly. The general consensus was: we should tell him, once he wakes up. They both agreed silently and looked back to Tokio who was still blissfully unaware of the entire wordless exchange.
"You're really faint-hearted, though, Tokio-san," Nagakura commented, trying to cheer her up "Saitou would have kept denying it to the bitter end."
Okita chuckled. "True; the only reason he admitted it to me was because I caught him red-handed."
"What?" Nagakura was scandalised. "What did you do!?"
If she wasn't tending to her patient, she would have struck at Okita. "Nothing, obviously. We simply…met."
There was suspicion in his eyes. "Met?"
"They met, indeed." Okita coughed. "In the middle of the night, in secret."
Nagakura was just as amused as gobsmacked; Tokio felt her annoyance rise. "In the middle of the street, in confidence."
"And what were you doing?"
"Nothing! We were just…talking."
"Talking?"
"Talking."
"Yeah," Okita agreed, far less lively this once "just talking," almost disappointed. "They are so boring. They can't even have an affair properly."
"We're not having an affair!" she hissed as silently as she could.
"Whatever you're having, isn't fun enough. You really need to change that."
Tokio could shake her head forever. "Did you hear nothing of what I just said?"
"Just fix him," Okita sighed as he exited the room. "You come, too; we'll be back in an hour. If you need us anything before that, just give us a shout. Someone will come."
Okita was on point; once the hour was spent, they came back, carrying food and water for the doctor and bandages for the patient.
He had cooled off considerably, but the fever wasn't completely gone, as she had hoped. The time it took to dress his wounds was not as short as she would have liked, mostly because they were damn near everywhere, but other than that, it, they were tame. There was only one particularly nasty slash that would make lesser men bleed to death, but Saitou was smart. He avoided most of the damage by twisting his body in time, while the cut itself was clean and straight, a sign of no hesitation…which was good; if the man wielding the blade had been any less composed or determined, he could have moved in a way that caused him more damage, since he managed to escape it. Shaky hands make for a bad companion after all, especially in swordsmen. And if he was indeed indecisive, he would never have been able to take on Saitou and live to tell the tale…
After that initial hour, they'd come back once every two or three hours; most men she knew by name or face, dropped by as well as men she knew were under his informal command. She was happy there was such a turnout. It meant people respected him; it meant there were so many people to take his side and rejoice in his happiness, wherever that lay.
"I knew you'd still be here."
Tokio blinked away the sleepiness to look over her shoulder; as expected Okita was right there, shaking his head in amused disapproval. "Souji-kun" she greeted bleary eyed.
"Go to sleep, Tokio-chan; he can survive the night without you. The only reason you aren't home, in fact, was Kondou's worry at his persistent semi-fever."
She huffed. "It should have stopped by now, or become stronger; it's doing neither, I'm annoyed."
They chuckled. "See? You say so yourself, it isn't that serious. Instead of sleeping where you stand, go lie down in the next room."
"I…don't want to." From her tone, he figured she was about to say something she needed to get off her chest. "It feels like this is the last time I'll be able to hold his hand like this."
He looked at her for a long time, without saying anything. She was too busy actually holding Saitou's hand, which he was absently squeezing back, to notice Okita's sadness. "Tis the last time only if you make it so." Not a shred of comfort, not a speck of aggressiveness. "Go to sleep, or don't; I am not the lord to order you around." He made to move. "Just know I'm saying this out of love."
She dared not speak until he was fully facing the door, thus not her. "Are you going to patrol now?"
"Yes."
"Be safe; and once you're back, come to me for a check-up. I haven't given you a good look for a long time."
"My illness is progressing slower than you predicted." He dismissed her efforts with a smirk. "I'm really strong, you see."
"If you don't, I'll personally instruct Hijikata-sama to keep you away from any battle."
"I'll be here first thing in the morning, Tokio-chan."
Okita Souji was a trustworthy man, without a doubt. And next morning she had the pleasure of taking care of two half-dressed men in the same room. If she wasn't a tiny bit concerned about Saitou making a full recovery, she would have giggled in her sleeve. But the fact of the matter was that this was the second day Saitou was bed-ridden and despite him no longer tossing and turning…he still hadn't woken up.
"How long is he supposed to be like that?" Hijikata was the one who asked, just as Okita had finished putting on his clothes properly. "He can't laze around forever."
"He means to avoid you as long as possible, Hijikata-san! You do think being incapacitated is being lazy, no wonder he had to get himself stabbed."
"That's not funny," Hijikata remarked dryly.
"Can you argue somewhere away from me?" Tokio irritably demanded. Her sleep deprivation was taking its toll and, per usual, she was much more confrontational than any other time.
And they both knew that. Okita nodded to Hijikata. "We're going…" they easily complied, fearing to stir anything. After all, the second day was already there and she'd made no mention of Ayame yet, but they were sure she was thinking about it a lot. As well as why wouldn't Saitou just wake up?
Three days went by and he was still sleeping. He had opened his eyes once, looked at Tokio, murmured something in the lines of "water" from what they gathered, and went back to sleep. Dutifully, she raised his head, put it in her lap, and tried to have him drink it. Unconsciously, he did; after that, she decided to do the same every other hour, other than simply wet his lips.
That was a good thing, of course; he could consume larger amounts of water and was almost awake. But the fever hadn't really gone down any more than that and she was actually concerned. But it wasn't until she took a whiff of the used bandages, as she changed them, that she finally realised what the predicament was: for the second time in his career as a swordsman for Matsudaira-sama, he was poisoned.
She could have slapped herself! How didn't she see it before—how didn't she smell it? it wasn't the big one that was infected, too, at least it didn't start there; it was the ones that barely bled that carried the poison. Heh, those cowards. She bet they were oh so happy to hear he was out of commission for so long, undoubtedly thinking he'd sooner or later die. She had news for them though…!
Immediately, she knew what to do; and in no longer than five hours, the fever went down almost completely.
"So, we're good to call Ayame-san over now, right?"
That stupid Harada and his big mouth…! Both Okita and Nagakura glared at the man with a vengeance, as Tokio literally wilted right in front of their eyes. He didn't seem to get why that happened, but Hijikata sighed defeated and that put an end to all thoughts.
"Two women in our headquarters?" he muttered a little louder than necessary "What have we come to?" as he walked away.
.
.
There was pain; it slowly ebbed away, and the pain became discomfort. After a while, everything became a feverish dream. Voices of people he knew and trusted filtered in, came and went, appeared and disappeared, but there was one specific figure that never left his side. Every time his eyes would open, even for a fraction, he'd see her there, dutifully holding his hand or helping his condition. It was for this particular figure that he struggled to open his eyes on the first place, let her know he was still alive and able-bodied, to not make her worry.
But he couldn't.
Still, he tried. And after what felt like aeons, he was finally able to open his eyes and look at the woman who—…
"Hajime! You are awake!"
"A…yame?"
His mind went blank. He had to blink many times, to make sure what he was seeing was real.
"You can recognise me! That's amazing."
The hug came a second later, lying as he was on the futon, and it felt a little too suffocating. And wrong. Why was Ayame here? She wasn't the one he was expecting to see. "Tokio-san was right to call for me when she did, how…competent she is."
"She called for you?"
"Oh yes, she was here just a minute ago! She came outside and said you were coming to and I should come in…she hadn't really left your side, she was tired. She joked she needed to go sleep for three days." Ayame giggled. "Said it's only fair to sleep for that long since that's how many nights you kept her awake."
"I was out for three days and nights!?"
He attempted to sit up, but he grew too dizzy. Relying on Ayame was out of the question, so he slowly put his head back down. So many information at once was making his head hurt anyway, imagine that with an actual health problem, after all…but why the hell did Tokio decide the best moment for her to leave would be before he got to see her? What was she thinking?
"Lie down, Hajime; Tokio said you need the rest. And if you feel anything out of the ordinary to call for her." She became thoughtful. "I think she went to get water."
"Please, call her then. I feel too dizzy."
Lies, of course; the dizziness was to be expected. But how could he get her there without actually saying he just wanted to see her? He really wanted to see her, damn it! He wanted it to be her the first person he laid eyes upon, but now he couldn't because she had to go ahead and ruin it. Honestly, this woman was such a handful, a constant source of surprise, yet rarely the good kind.
"I will, immediately." She gracefully stood and tried to leave…but her feet stopped at the threshold. She turned around to look at him solemn. A long breath was drawn. "I am…too happy you are with us again, to properly express in words. So, please accept my feelings to be true even without me saying too much about it."
"I do," he assured her, a little out of it.
She was able to crack a smile. "Once Tokio-san has taken a good look at you and goes to sleep, I'd…like to discuss something with you."
That felt a little foreboding, but he complied. "As you wish."
"Perfect," her old self returned and she gave him her cutest smile. "I'll be back in a second."
Well, it took her more than that, but true to her word, she returned with a puffed up Tokio, bursting with joy, yet refraining to look too happy about it, lest she was betrayed by her heart. Ceremoniously, she handed Ayame the basin full of fresh water with the ladle and approached.
She bowed her head, very formal. "Hajime, I am glad you are finally awake."
"Tokio," he saluted at the best of his ability as she came to sit down next to him "thank you for your efforts."
"There is no need to thank me." Despite her reservations, her eyes reflected all of her warmth, radiated it almost, accompanied by the most restrained yet heartfelt smile she had ever graced him with. "Ever." That she practically whispered, as she came close. "Do you need water?" At his puzzled expression, she elaborated amused that "Ayame-san told me of your dizziness, most possibly caused by the sudden loss of equilibrium as you tried to sit; headache no doubt, also. Sometimes, water clears the mind better than any painkiller."
"Yes, of course. I feel my throat a little dry, too."
She bowed her head again, all lady-like and as formal as ever, with a faint smile on her lips; she slowly turned to the other woman in the room. "Ayame-san, could you please give me-…? Thank you."
She obliged readily, basically thrusting the supplies in her hands, nearly drenching her. Still, Tokio made no mention, bowed her head in thanks and came to sit even closer to the patient, her lap practically next to his face. She cradled his head with one arm, carefully lifting it up, and with the other put the ladle full of water to his lips. She allowed him to drink as much as he wanted, but when he got too greedy, she'd gently take it away. He'd take the hint and start all over again.
She never rushed him, simply held him up. Her motions were fluid and gentle; deliberate, but light; necessary, but effortless. She'd look at him calmly, but he saw the full extent of her relief to see him drink like this, half on his own. He would look back at her from time to time, to make sure she too knew how much he appreciated her, just her, for all she was. And when she'd fight back a smile, he knew she was finally aware of his own conviction to keep her as unburdened as possible from things like that in the future, to keep her mind at ease.
And she was so patient with him, it left Ayame feeling agitated. No one had time for that, right? Especially Tokio, tired and irritable as she claimed to be and even acted on occasion these last two hours, she had no real tolerance left. That's what she claimed herself multiple times; that's not what she exhibited now. Somehow, even if she did nothing wrong, it left an impression of dishonesty to Ayame, who watched a little on edge.
How much water did he need to drink anyway? He'd already consumed half the thing!
"Hey, Saitou came to, everybody! Come, come!"
Tokio had to resist the urge to roll her eyes; why did Harada have to ruin every little moment? She couldn't know Ayame next to her was thanking him with the power of a thousand voices internally, though, for interrupting this seemingly innocent scene that screamed of too much intimacy. If anyone had asked her. And they had no business looking so intimate.
"Saitou-san~!"
Okita and his sing-song voice popped in from nowhere, following Sanosuke, and being followed by a relieved Shinpachi and a vexed Hijikata. "You're finally awake~!"
"That he is," Ayame said, struggling not to feel to left out.
"Took you long enough," their vice-commander huffed, almost accusingly.
"Bastard just wanted all the attention to himself; look at the women at his side." Harada shook his head. "So calculative."
"That was my very first thought when I met Battousai's blade, in fact," Saitou became sarcastic and smug in an instant "how I could twist this to have people fawn over me."
Harada snapped his fingers. "I knew it." They all burst out laughing. "I'm just glad you woke up man."
"We did fear you'd stay sleeping and useless for the rest of your life," Okita chipped in "Hijikata-san more than most."
Tokio nearly glared at the vice-commander who did nothing to counter the claim, despite the men's good-natured laughs. "Kondou-san is being informed as we speak," was all he said "I'm sure he too would like to pay you a visit."
"Then we better say all of our good wishes now!" Harada rushed everybody. "Besides," he looked all around him, fully aware of the continuously growing number of people "if one more person enters the room, Tokio-san will chase us out with the ladle. And lemme tell you that thing hurts."
"That I will do, Harada-san knows me too well."
Just as they were about to laugh, they noticed that glint of promise in her eye and everyone became awkward. "So, I shall give all of you the chance to wish him a good recovery, one by one, until Kondou-sama gets here. Then, you will all kindly leave and let the commander speak to him personally. Hijikata-sama, you I must exclude from this, naturally."
It was scary how easily they fell in line. She hadn't even finished saying it, they had already gotten through the first motions, with some of his men being the first to the punch.
When the commander made his appearance, everyone cleared out, just as they were told. "See you in a bit," Okita winked as he left, for he, Harada and Nagakura were the last ones purposefully, just so they could have the excuse to come back to wish him after, since there was no way they'd make it before their commander arrived.
"Ayame-san," it was Hijikata who spoke "you must leave, too. No outsiders allowed, other than the good doctor."
Tokio was not going to lie: that felt too good to hide her smile from the older man, who knew he was doing her bidding in a twisted way but had no other option than to send her away. And the way Ayame positively stewed at those news was a little too satisfying. Small victories were everything.
Then Kondou came and was all kindness and relief, not a bad word coming out of his mouth, to put the cherry on top of a very rewarding cake. He complimented her on her skills, her keen sense of things, her honed to perfection talents; he commended Hajime for his efforts, noting how he must have taken a lot out of Battousai for he had remained inactive for as long as Hajime has been out, too, how his return would make the patriots shake in their little geta…he thanked both for their services and exited as grandly as he had entered. That was the cue that the four lurkers were waiting for, to come back into the room.
"Don't crowd him for too long," Hijikata warned as he left, obvious he waited for them to appear before leaving "I'll be back to make sure."
"Yessir!" Okita theatrically stood at attention and saluted as the man left, shaking his head.
"Are you sure you should be mocking him?" Ayame asked concerned. "I've heard stories of his temper."
"Oh, that's fine; he's all bark but no bite." Harada was quick to assure her, despite Saitou's snort.
"Oh yes, he won't mind even if we stay," Nagakura agreed.
"Sure," Saitou was all sarcasm.
"Besides," the shortest man leaned in to share a big secret with her, trying to ignore the patient "I'm his favourite."
"He'll grab you by the ear anyway, though," Nagakura wisely reminded.
"He's always overbearing," Okita dismissed easily "what's a little more of his sullen mood?"
"He won't be too mad if we overstay our welcome then?"
The hope in Ayame's tone was adorable; but Tokio feared she'd have to spoil it for her and the rest. "It was me who asked for the warning to be issued, actually; I don't think it suitable for Hajime to be in the presence of more than two people, in the state he is right now."
He clicked his tongue. "I'm not dying."
"You were poisoned again though."
He looked up at her wide eyed. "Really?" She nodded. "Well, shit."
Everyone went quiet for a long time, assessing her words in their own way.
"On second thought, we won't stay too long, after all." It was Nagakura who spoke first.
Harada nodded gingerly. "Yeah, doctor's orders are harder to disobey than a superior's."
Ayame was shocked. "Isn't it the other way around?"
"Not if the doctor is Tokio-chan," Okita mumbled but was purposefully loud. He had hoped to garner the attention of the patient who, insofar, was too casual about things. When both Ayame and Hajime gave him their own wondered look, he finally had the chance to elaborate. "What, you don't know of the incident?"
"What incident?"
"Oooh, the incident," Harada immediately played along, noting of Tokio's suddenly increasing red cheeks. "Nagakura," he elbowed him repeatedly "tell them about the incident."
"Yes, I will; I shall tell you of the incident." He came closer to the centre of the room, disregarding all of Tokio's protests. "So, you see, after Tokio pin-pointed the kind of medicine she should give you for the poison and brewed it successfully, she administered the first dosage; that was when our own sensei came by, too curious to see what and how Tokio-san was doing."
"That's when it all went to shit." Okita took over. "He started being an ass to her, about not figuring it out earlier that obviously you need to give him this if he has this type of poisoning, how can you be so daft girl, and then proceeded to call her so inferior to his own expertise, and Tokio-chan just lost it." Okita snorted with laughter. "She actually stood to her full height and importance to face him; she called him an incompetent and amoral coward of a practitioner who hid behind other people's achievements to toot his own horn, quite unsuccessfully. How if he was even half of how excellent as he claimed, she wouldn't need to be called on the first place and how he had done a terrible job of keeping you as safe as he could."
"H-he had left the patient before the new doctor arrived while his life was in no immediate danger! Or anyone else's…! You can't do that, that's ridiculous. You either help someone or you don't, no take-backs. He left Hajime because his inconsequential ego was bruised at the simple notion someone might know better than him." She shook her head, deeply distraught yet humble by the things they said about her. She never was so daring as they made her out to be. "People like him are why we, doctors, are considered a prideful and money-mongering profession, when it couldn't be further away from the truth. I was upset by his behaviour, that's all."
"And then…she slapped him."
"Souji-kun!" she protested with every fibre of her being. "You're omitting a very big part of the story," she continued, as collected as possible, feeling Saitou shake with laughter. "I did not slap him when I said all those things. After I finished, he countered by calling me a manipulative witch who was only interested in landing myself a husband of the vice-commander's fame; I admitted to him my misgivings about his mental state and he actually tried to hit me. I reacted." She shrugged. "I never slapped him actually. I just put my hand at his Adam's apple and pressed until he chocked."
Everyone inside the room, disbelieving Ayame included, laughed.
"He only said you slapped him," Nagakura said between laughs. "Never admitted to the chocking thing."
"Because he'd have to mention he almost attacked me, too and I bet you he wouldn't want anyone knowing about that."
"So, that's why no one disrespects Tokio-chan's wishes," Okita concluded his story, still having fits of laughter "because they get their ass kicked."
"I was a little bad-tempered, too…I am very sleep-deprived."
Saitou tensed. "Alright, that's it; everyone leaves, right now. Okita, you take the ladies back home and make sure they both go to bed."
"Don't be silly," Tokio said through a chuckle "I haven't rationed the rest of the medicine yet, I can't possibly go."
"I'm not risking interacting with you while not fully rested."
"I'll be rationing the medicine, I won't be doing much talking," she assured.
"I'll do the talking instead!" Ayame tried to prove she was there once more, feeling a little too side-lined.
"Around her? No, thank you; the doctor escaped too easily, I can't run away."
"You're being ridiculous."
"I made it alive till now, didn't I? Respect my survival instincts."
"I don't see you too eager to remove yourself from her lap, though." Harada joked, and the two women present were close to having a stroke.
"Hey," Saitou was nearly offended "I earned my day and place of rest, with the sweat off of my brow. Leave me alone."
Nagakura smirked. "He's just jealous not only one, but two pretty women are concerned about you." Shaking his head, he stood. "Still, one of those pretty women will now escort us all outside while the other rations the medicine; then, I will personally escort both back to their current residence. Do we all agree with this plan?"
Hopeless, Ayame nodded. "Very well then; let's go. Have a speedy recovery Hajime-san," Nagakura wished as he headed for the door, forcing everyone to follow his example.
"Have a speedy recovery."
"We're leaving you in good hands, so instead of a speedy recovery, I shall wish for better reflexes in the future! Even better than the Battousai's."
Okita wiggled his eyebrows at the sane time and Hajime smirked. "Heh, you bet."
"Be well, Hajime," Ayame wished last but not least, voice full of yearning.
"Thank you all."
.
.
"I had no idea Tokio-san was a healer."
Ayame was in the company of Nagakura and Okita for the past hour, silently, thus far, waiting for aforementioned woman to be done with her duties. "I was truly surprised when you told me."
Okita had entrusted the information to her on their way to HQ, after he could no longer hide where Tokio was whisked away to for the past three days and how it just happened to coincide with Saitou's strange disappearance.
"She doesn't look like the part—or at least she didn't. When I saw her work, I was mesmerised…she downplays herself, eh? One wouldn't think her too important by the way she acts and talks to people below her class, but she's in fact, quite educated and significant. I had no idea she was from such a rich and influential family. Matsudaira-sama had to explain it to me."
"She is very casual, indeed," Nagakura concurred. "A little too much, at times." His eyes slid to Okita. "Some call her Tokio-chan with no shame and she lets them."
"Some even asked her to pour them drinks," Okita countered, glancing at Harada "I think I'm fine."
"Is that disrespectful?" Ayame asked.
"A woman is supposed to pour a man's drink, but not one of such social standing to someone with no real social standing."
"Ah, I see. It's an improper request." They all nodded. "Hm…" time was ticking by so slowly; the newcomer could not be contained. She had arrived barely four hours ago—still felt like four hours too long. And to think she spent all that time in places like these but it was Tokio who spent it with Hajime…it didn't sit well with her. "It's been a long time," she finally said, standing to her feet "I shall go check on them."
"Ah, don't fret, Ayame-san," Harada tried to dissuade her "is Tokio was done, she'd have shown up."
"She doesn't dawdle, but she never rushes with patients, unless that's to their benefit. She likes to do a thorough job," Nagakura corroborated.
"You're such spoil-sports," Okita commented out of the blue "let the woman go where her heart commands her." She bowed to him, eyes full of gratitude; he returned it with a nod of his head and followed her as she disappeared behind the corridor. Only then did he turn to Nagakura. "If she does, she might learn something useful."
"Aaaaw."
Harada blinked. "What does that mean?"
Okita smirked as Nagakura fully appreciated the length of his meddling: let her go and witness their relationship first hand, let her be disappointed. "That she might get to know what a half-naked man looks like."
The men laughed; he was satisfied, it was a good save.
.
.
Ayame got lost twice, in her search of the right room. This was a large place to navigate and mere four hours in it didn't help much. But she finally found her destination! Door half-open, she could see Tokio's back from afar, poised and perfect. Hajime was lying next to her on the futon, from which she still hadn't distanced herself enough, and he looked like he wasn't moving. She went closer, as silently as possible.
She had no idea why she decided to sneak around, but that's what she did; with a cat's grace, she made it to the door, and peaked inside. Up close, she could see the side of the woman's face…there was something so serene about it. Absolute peace. Idly, she moved her hand to touch his forehead; she hummed pleasantly at the result and smiled. But it was no ordinary smile; despite it being small and discreet, it lingered too much and Ayame felt like she had gazed directly into the sun, it was too bright.
Then Hajime stirred by her touch and made some noise. He popped one eye open; Tokio chuckled. "An hour passed; you still have one more left for the next dose."
His nostrils flared. "Just making sure."
Shaking her head, she said "I said I wouldn't leave before that and I won't; I promised to show you how to mix it anyway. Please, rest."
He shut both eyes now, making himself comfortable. "I'm resting."
"Relax then."
"…I'll try."
"Want me to tell you a story to help?"
"I am not a child." A pause. "But sure."
Ayame did not know how long she'd been standing there, eavesdropping, but by the time she decided to stop gawking, Hajime had fallen asleep. It took him no time, but still, it must have been at least five minutes. She…needed to collect herself. The way Tokio looked at him though, left her powerless to do anything. It was so caring and sweet, she couldn't handle it. She couldn't be found either though and an alarm went off in her head! She was gone too long, what if they come looking for her?
She slapped her cheeks and then the door. Seeing the way Tokio's head turned, so delicately, made her feel self-conscious. "Tokio-san, what's the verdict?"
"I need one more hour before his next dose and then we're gone." She glanced at the man by her feet and her expression turned teasing. "He'll live."
"That's comforting." A terse smile. "Um, Tokio-san, I was wondering, could I maybe impose on him before we leave? I need to tell him something."
"Oh, he'll be fine to walk by the end of the day and he'll be up and about by tomorrow. Can't it wait?"
"I guess…"
"Or you can come here tomorrow by yourself," she offered as an afterthought. "You want to talk to him privately and I have no reason to be here then; you can talk at a length, without the concern of time."
"That's excellent actually, yes, thank you." Tokio smiled kindly back at her and Ayame was confused. She saw what she saw, she wouldn't be fooled…then why was Tokio so accommodating right now? "Are you sure I will be allowed?"
"…if Hijikata-san protests, tell him this is me, holding him to his word. He'll let you pass."
"I see…"
"Now if you'd please go back to the others. I'll come to you once I'm ready."
"You know your way around then?"
"Oh, yes; I stayed here some time ago." She seemed reminiscent. "No doctor for the unit back then, I had to fill in until they found one." She giggled. "I might have had something to do with one of their sensei's leaving, too."
"Alright, I see…I'm going."
She didn't get lost on her way back, though. She was way too focused. "How long did Tokio stay here before?" was the first thing she asked the moment she stepped back inside. They were one Harada short, seeing he was the second patrol of the day.
"Around a month, I believe, a little less," Nagakura was quick to answer.
She hadn't noticed, but both men were scanning her, eyes running up and down, trying to make out what could have happened. "And what time it was…! We had lots of fights in here, too; remember I told you Harada had asked her to pour his drink? She did it; Saitou-san was furious."
Ayame snapped at attention. "Too improper from her, he'd said," Nagakura helped.
"Inexcusable," Okita egged on.
"He actually went to Hijikata-sama to stop it. But Hijikata-sama allowed it…so the second time, he stopped it himself." The men smiled at the memory. "To see an angry Saitou is a rare and scary sight. I don't know how she survived." A moment. "Then again, he was always angry at her, all the days she spent here. I don't know why."
"I do!" Okita almost raised his hand to be noticed. "This is no place for a woman to stay, he'd said, it was too improper. Especially since she's unmarried. He doesn't like rumours, as you undoubtedly know, and he'd hate her to be the reason people could slander the unit."
"Makes sense, actually."
Ayame was almost relieved. In fact, she couldn't make out what kind of relationship Hajime and Tokio shared—was it friendship? It sounded like it. But did it go deeper than that? From Tokio's part, she could see it. The way she held him, how patient she was with him, how delicate her moves, how brilliant her smile…she was convinced, to ne honest. But what were his feelings? She needed to know but the information was a little all over the place, as if purposefully mixed to drive her insane.
Well, no need to fret. She decided to confront Tokio-san today; and Hajime, he'd wait till tomorrow.
As soon as she had made up her mind about that, time passed her by easily. When Tokio's head appeared behind the door, it felt like five minutes ago, when in fact it was an hour. After that, both women were led outside, to the carriage. As he had promised, Nagakura Shinpachi joined them in the carriage, for the journey back home. Ah, home; Tokio had dearly missed her bed; and her cute little dog. She distantly wondered how Hachiro was doing, when a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I know," it said pointedly "I saw."
Her mind went blank for a moment, trying to understand, in her sleep-deprived mind, if that was spoken by a woman or a man. She decided to turn to Nagakura for an explanation first, but when he simply shrugged and gestured towards the other occupant of the carriage, she turned to her left to look at Ayame.
"Know? Saw? What exactly are you talking about?"
"I saw you talking to Hajime, the way you'd look at him. That's not how a doctor looks at a patient; that's how anyone would look at a loved one."
Hold on. Was this really happening or was this her imagination? She turned to Nagakura again and when she saw the expression of internal panic and screaming, she became certain. It was happening. Ah, shit.
"I have no idea what you're-,"
"Don't try that, it won't work, Tokio-san. I am no fool, nor am I blind. You look at him so fondly, I…couldn't help but notice. And I noticed because I, too, feel the same way about him."
"Listen, Ayame-san," Tokio started softly, "I have no intention of speaking about such things with you, or with anyone. What you do is none of my concern; what you want, you're entitled to it. I don't understand your-,"
"Don't try to play nice, didn't you hear? I will fight for my right. I will fight for this. And all your money and status won't scare me away."
Tokio's eyes slid to Nagakura who, if capable, would be frothing from his mouth in a catatonic state. "I have no intention to fight you, Ayame-san."
"Too bad, because I won't be beaten! This is a declaration of war. May the best one win."
"No, Ayame-san, you don't understand. There's no reason for a war; I'm not competing against you—I'm rooting for you."
"Don't try to confuse me by being nice and pretending not to care. You can't fool my eyes; and we have the same eyes. I will be victorious and—!"
Tokio sighed. "Just listen to me, silly girl; I do not wish to fight you for him. If he so desires, you can have him." Ayame looked unsure. "I am not trying to lull you into a false sense of security or whatever ridiculous thing you may be thinking. I simply want you, from my heart, to succeed in your endeavour."
Her eyes became small. "Why?"
"Because you can offer him something I can't." Too small. "A future."
"So, you give up?" Tokio nodded vigorously. "I win from the start?" A defeated sigh betrayed her agreement. "How…cowardly."
Wait, wait, wait, wait; was she really living through this right now? Did she really just call her a coward? "Pardon me?"
"If you don't fight for the one you love, what will you fight about?"
"National independence?" Nagakura tried to make the situation less ridiculous.
"The right for a woman to have sovereignty of herself, no matter the class and background?"
"Well, those are great causes, too actually, but still, you have to fight! If you don't fight for the one you love, then do you really love them? If you truly love someone, let them go, yes, but not without a fight! Such resignation…I don't want to hear it!"
"What in earth? Here I am, telling you the coast is clear—"
"—and I think it's a bunch of hogwash."
Tokio was appalled. "Why thank you."
"Don't play the offended card with me, it won't work. You have no reason to give up, if you really want him."
"It's not a matter of desire, it's a matter of—"
"—fact, you won't make a stand. How pitiful. Maybe you aren't really in love with him after all, and just need an easy way out."
"Ayame-san, you have no idea of the circumstances."
"There is no point in blaming it on the circumstances; you either do or do not want someone." She could see she was driving Tokio insane, bubbling up with anger, but didn't stop on purpose. "Is it too much for you in the end? Maybe you know you'll lose and decided not to enter the fray anyway." She was about to snap. "Is that it? Are my feelings that much superior to yours? I guess I deserve him more than you do, my affections run deeper." Any minute now. "It's been years I've been running after him after all, not a mere year; how much of an attachment can be formed in one, measly year?"
And that's it; she broke. The word attachment rang so true and torturous in her mind, she couldn't have it. "If you even remotely love him as much as you claim you do, I advise you to keep your trap shut and never speak of this again. Do you want him exiled? Would you like to see him suffer? If you do, please, continue saying, in front of other people, how I must have my eye on him. And if you really want to see him hurt, go ahead, tell Matsudaira-sama how you'll fight me for his attention. That ought to do it."
Furious, but largely relieved from lashing out, she distinctly looked away, jaw set. "I am not the master of my own fate, I don't have that luxury. But rest assured, if I had any indication my feelings were not harmful to him, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Her eyes snapped to Ayame's, unforgiving. "You wouldn't even be in the capital, how much more, in the Matsudaira compound, going on daily excursions with him, casually. So, be grateful I am a willing loser and cherish your time with him. It is all because I am allowing it."
She finally turned away again, opting for the window instead of the I'm-definitely-having-a-heart-attack Nagakura. The more she stared out of the window in silence though, the more she felt guilty. This was all her fault; not Ayame's, definitely not Saitou's, just her. She sighed. She needed closure.
"Please, don't question my motives again, Ayame-san, but I do hope we can put this behind us." A pause. "Believe it or not, I consider you a good person, one I enjoy spending time with. For both our sakes, please make no further inquiries. I haven't slept in three days, I am mentally and physically exhausted and I can barely keep the raging headache back. When I'm tired, I get snappy. Sorry."
"That's alright," Ayame said in the end, a faint smile on her face. "I happen to like a little competition."
Tokio instinctively rolled her eyes. "I am not—…!"
"You have your opinions, I have mine and that's the end of it." A wide smile threw her off. "I too like you, after all, Tokio-san. I think you're great."
She was so taken aback by her sincerity, she had to look at her twice. "So, please rest. You quite need it."
"Thank…you…"
Ayame hated losing; Ayame hated winning without a fight even more. But what she absolutely despised was not knowing her competition's reasons for forfeiting. Yet, she also liked a fair fight. And if her adversary wasn't able to enter the fray due to reasons beyond them, that wasn't fair. She swore then, she'd find some way to fix it, even if ultimately, she was working against herself. A no-fun fight was the worst.
A/N: Ayame has become the weirdest creature in my head, I love her. Shout out to everyone who reviewed, EduSaito and Lhama and Anon, my most devoted fans, but a special shout out to RogueShadowAngel who helped me, in an odd way, shape Ayame. I love you peeps.
I love you all, to be honest, I just don't know who you are, lurkers. Feel free to introduce yourselves in a review.
Hugs and kisses,
FAI~