Take all your chances while you can
Never know when they'll pass you by
Like a sum a mathematician cannot solve
Like me trying my hardest to explain
It's all about your cries and kisses
Those first steps that I can't calculate – Chances, Athlete (from Doctor Who Season 5 (2010) – Vincent and the Doctor)
Chapter 26 – Saitō
It wasn't yet dawn. He woke slowly, which was unusual. With very few exceptions, he had always been able to wake instantly and be immediately alert and aware. This time it was as if his mind was taking its time, sorting out and learning the differences between what he had been and what he was now. It was a peculiar, vulnerable feeling.
Saitō had always been acutely aware of his body. After all, it was as much a part of the tools of his trade as his daisho. Even in an unfamiliar form – and it was quite different, he thought – he could tell that he was in a weakened state. That wasn't surprising since he remembered that he'd had a severe fever even before he had forced himself through the agonizing change.
His chest ached. The rest wasn't so bad, but the middle of his chest felt seared, as if he had been branded. Ah yes. He had almost burned up. The bruised ribs were because Amagiri-san had been forced to hold him down. Yet he vaguely recalled that at least three of the ribs had cracked or broken – he knew these things. Maybe he had healed? That would be useful, although it reminded him of the rasetsu. He hoped that Oni didn't develop cravings for blood. Most of the furies were pitiful creatures and he thought that the Vice Commander had been correct in thinking poorly of the experiment.
What was he though? Was he an Oni or something like a rasetsu? Actually… he wasn't sure what the difference was, since he didn't know what an Oni was. He had a sort of impression of it from Amagiri-san, which had seemed sufficient at the time. It didn't match his perception of the furies. The Oni seemed whole in a way that the furies were not. But that just brought him around full circle. Evidently he couldn't answer that question yet.
He could sense short claws and some kind of horns, so he knew that he didn't look human anymore. With a characteristic lack of self-pity, he concluded that most likely he simply wasn't human now. It was not a very comfortable thought, but surely it would become more bearable with time. In the end, it was just a matter of getting used to something new… as long as they let him live. He did want to live, if possible.
A memory surfaced. He could almost feel the soft skin of Yukimura's face under his fingers again. That was… embarrassing. It was not how he had planned to approach her, least of all with anyone else present. At least he had apologized to her for his loss of control in attacking Harada. He hadn't wanted her to blame herself somehow for whatever punishment he had to face. He didn't know if she had understood him, but he had tried.
Then it hit him. I had to give up my swords. That memory shocked him completely out of the strange lassitude that had gripped him until that moment.
As full awareness suddenly returned, he discovered that his sense of hearing and sense of smell were sharper than they had been before. He also realized that he wasn't alone. With iron self-control he forced himself not to move and kept his breathing slow and regular; he was pleased to note that his heartbeat did not increase more than was acceptable under the circumstances. In a moment he knew who it was.
He opened his eyes and turned his head toward her. His careful composure didn't waver outwardly that he could tell, but he felt his heartbeat increase. He allowed himself an inward sigh; he had hoped for enough time to gain some understanding and acceptance of his new self before facing her, but it was not to be. He could only hope that the steadfast courage that he had admired in her from the start would prevent her from drawing away from him now. Then it occurred to him that under the circumstances it might be selfish to think that way.
"Saitō-san?"
"Yukimura."
Hesitantly, because his tone was forbidding, Chizuru crept from her place by the door to sit beside the futon. Hijikata-san had made her promise to keep her distance until she was certain that Saitō-san was awake and fully rational. Amagiri-san had merely commented that Saitō-san still had not shifted back from his Oni form and might remain that way for some time while his body repaired itself.
She had been watching him for over an hour now. At first she had been shaken by the transformation. His long hair lay unbound around his face and shoulders and the white strands looked ghostly in what little light entered the room through the shuttered window. Then too, the white horns had disconcerted her, being longer and sharper and generally more threatening than her own.
On the other hand, she had felt her chest constrict a little as her eyes had traced the familiar lines of his face, from the shadowed arch of the brows and the straight nose to the clean sweep of the jaw and the slightly pointed chin. Whoever had given him fresh clothing had left it looser than usual, and she had found herself staring at the way that his throat curved into his straight shoulders, and at the hollows just visible around the collarbones. The folds of the light nagajuban did little to conceal well-shaped, muscled limbs. Somehow all the lean, compact strength that characterized Saitō-san's human appearance just seemed accentuated in the Oni form.
Chizuru wondered if Kimigiku-san's teasing had affected her more than she had realized. She hadn't intended to mislead when she had claimed not to have thought beyond friendship with the quiet, usually expressionless captain. She still couldn't quite believe that she had told him that she needed him, when consciously she hadn't yet sorted that out. But… she preferred to be near him. Right now she couldn't seem to stop looking at him. On the whole, she found her thoughts and reactions unsettling.
Now that she was sitting next to him, Chizuru found it difficult not to reach out and smooth the tendrils of white hair away from his face and neck. She noticed that his scent was the same in this form, the soft trace of sandalwood from his clothes just one part of a distinctive whole. Her face reddened when she realized that she had actually leaned closer than was necessary and he was looking at her oddly.
"Ah, may I fetch you water to drink, Saitō-san?" she asked, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.
"I… Yes, thank you, Yukimura."
The water was quickly poured, and she noted with a little dismay that there wasn't much left. Well, it would give her a reason to slip out to fetch more if she needed a moment to herself.
Saitō-san sat up to drink the water, his movements a little more awkward than usual. Chizuru gave an involuntary cry when she saw the terrible bruising and fierce burn on his chest more clearly, imperfectly concealed as they were by the rather loose nagajuban. In fact, the dark discoloration of the bruises and the angry red of the burn were the only real colour on him, as his skin was pale and his hair and clothing were white. Even his lips seemed almost colourless in the dim light. His calm golden eyes seemed to evaluate her even as her own eyes widened at the visual evidence of how much his first change to his Oni form had differed from hers.
"Isn't there something I could do to help?" she whispered, hands held tightly in her lap so that she wouldn't reach out to touch him just to reassure herself that he was truly safe and more or less whole.
"Īe. It will heal on its own. Please don't worry about it."
Chizuru looked down, discouraged by his flat politeness. She couldn't read how he felt, but he didn't seem to want her there. Given how she had felt about learning that she was an Oni, she could understand that. It was probably embarrassing for him to have anyone around right now, especially her after what he had done earlier, when he wasn't himself. He was a very private person. She began to wonder whether she should go, or at least find a way not to intrude while she was here.
She almost jumped when his fingers gently touched the back of one of her hands. She glanced up quickly and was startled to find that he had shifted positions and leaned toward her so that he could look at her more easily.
"Saitō-san?"
He removed his fingers at once, but kept his eyes on her face.
"Yukimura. I am not very good at this. Gomenasai. I am… quite pleased that you are here."
"Oh. Okay."
Chizuru felt her cheeks redden again. She was starting to wonder if she'd ever stop blushing. They were sitting facing each other now, Saitō-san kneeling on his futon and Chizuru sitting cross-legged on the tatami. If he was in pain, it didn't show. He looked thoughtful, rather, the thin white brows drawn slightly together. It was strange to see such a familiar expression on a face with golden eyes framed by white hair. She noticed that his ears were distinctly pointed, much like drawings of mythical Oni that she had seen as a child, although little else was the same.
"Um, Saito-san," she said cautiously, "I forgot to tell you. Amagiri-san said that you may remain in this form until your wounds are healed, but he wasn't sure."
"I see." Saitō pushed his long white hair back off his shoulders. "I have many questions for Amagiri-san." He didn't tell her that he hadn't been sure whether changing back was an option.
Chizuru found it frustrating that she was having so much difficulty. She had always been comfortable talking with Saitō-san before. She wanted to help him now. Of course, he did look more forbidding as an Oni.
After another minute or two, he seemed to reach a decision. He rose to his feet and crossed the room to a small wardrobe. His face was impassive again, but Chizuru sensed the carefully contained pain this time. She watched in some surprise as he took out a clean black kimono, adjusted it neatly, and tied it with a white obi. It was as if he were donning armour, she thought.
Wordlessly, she offered him the long white scarf that had been left folded neatly beside the futon by unknown hands. He accepted it gravely and arranged it around him. She could never understand why he never seemed to feel the heat like everyone else. Looking up at him as his long fingers adjusted the white folds she silently admired how well the traditional black kimono suited the Oni colouring. He left his hair loose, and she was struck again by the incongruity between the familiar and the unfamiliar. Apparently satisfied, he knelt near her on the tatami.
Chizuru could tell that getting dressed had fatigued him – and hurt as well – but despite this he seemed to feel better. She shifted slightly so that she was facing him. Once again they were close enough that the familiar scent caught at her. She couldn't quite describe the sensation. It was like feeling safe and feeling like falling at the same time. She wondered if the unaccountable desire to touch was because of the strange, emotional day – and night – or whether it was related to being an Oni.
"Yukimura."
Chizuru looked up and saw a trace of anxiety in the golden eyes. Or maybe she just sensed it.
"Yes, Saitō-san."
"This… is not how I wanted things to go. Obviously." He cleared his throat and looked away. "I do not know exactly what happened… earlier… I just needed to get there as quickly as possible because you were upset."
He glanced at her from under his white lashes, a faint flush high on his cheeks.
"I understand, Saitō-san," Chizuru said hesitantly, not altogether sure what she understood.
"But before all that I had wanted…" He stopped, as if reviewing his words. "I had wanted to ask you if you would like to… go for a walk with me, one evening. Not on patrol." The last part seemed to just slip out, but he forced himself to continue. "It is something that I have seen many people do if they want to spend time together."
Yukimura seemed to be confused – at least, she had a rather strange expression on her face. Had he forgotten something? He'd thought it all through, several times, especially while trying to nurse her fever. And the Vice Commander had suggested that it might be acceptable to tell her – not approved of exactly but still the right thing to do. Was she upset that he was telling her this now, when his future was in doubt and he had discovered that he wasn't human? That had been the hardest part of his decision.
It occurred to him that he had left out something important.
"Yukimura?"
"Yes? …Oh!"
And then almost in perfect unison, each of them said:
"I forgot to tell you something."
Saitō blinked. Obviously they both needed to be clearer. This was proving to be even more difficult than he had expected. Resolutely, he reminded himself of his decision, ignored his burning cheeks, and carefully took her one of her hands. It seemed very small in his. He heard her breath catch and felt his heartbeat accelerate again.
"Yukimura, I should have said this first: I like you… very much. It isn't the right time to tell you these things, but I wanted you to know anyway."
"Īe. I mean – I don't mind! But you should know – I'm an Oni. I mean I didn't know before - I just found out." She swallowed. "I really hope that you won't change your mind though, about anything."
They stared at each other. Saitō's mouth quirked up at one corner into a smile. He couldn't help it. It was all absurd and also just right. He lifted his left hand to her cheek and this time just let it rest there.
"I won't change my mind."
A/Note:
Many thanks to all who have sent reviews and comments over the last few chapters: AsthaRen , AzureArchxngel , ArchimedesAckermann , AnimeMango , nakigaoyuu, Ciarei Ceryn , and especially red1Rogue and NyaPowa (for good advice, among other things).
Welcome and nice to see you to my Guest readers. And thank you and welcome to those who have recently added this story to their Favs/Follows!
A few story notes:
- Yes, there will definitely be more forthcoming about Harada (who has had a bit of a raw deal and not a lot of information)
- Ditto about other Shinsengumi notables
- No, I haven't forgotten our dear Cat-zama (sorry, personal nickname)
- Or Shiranui
- Or Kaoru for that matter
- Yes, the Water of Life / Ochimizu is still hanging around, along with the furies / rasetsu.
- On that note, did you ever consider that those who handled the Ochimizu best and longest were those of Oni ancestry (well, in my opinion)?
- And oh so many other things going on in this story!