Author's Note:

Thank you so much to everyone for their insightful comments on the last chapter.

(Well, except for "Holy Shit this chapter" on tumblr which was more descriptive than insightful.) (But still a great comment!)

Seriously, all of the feedback was very much appreciated: you are all amazing.

Some thoughts on Kazama Chikage & Amagiri Kyuuju (You Can Skip This!): I think Hijikata said it best when he told Amagiri "If it were me I'd probably have you killed." Or words to that effect. Now, granted that Sen asked Amagiri to come to Kyoto and she's the Princess of the Oni, the point is that she asked, she didn't order. And Kazama did the proper thing and allowed Amagiri to go, even though he knew something was off because Sen didn't want him to know what she needed Amagiri for. However, he sent Amagiri trusting (mostly) that his loyal vassal and companion of a decade or more wouldn't do anything directly against Kazama's best interests. Instead of which, he saved Saitō's life and taught him how to use his powers.

Now, Amagiri was in a bind. Because, to be fair, he didn't know that Saitō was in love with Chizuru (and, more importantly, vice versa - let's face it, the kids weren't especially clear on things themselves). But he did have a tiny inkling, maybe - depends how long he hung around after Kazama left. So there he is in Kyoto and he has to decide: does he let Saitō die just because Kazama dislikes the Shinsengumi on principle? (Amagiri isn't a fan of humans either, remember - Saitō had caught his interest because he was transforming into an Oni). Does he let Saitō die just because he might capture Chizuru's interest? And then he makes the decision to help, as Sen predicted he would, and he's inside Saitō's head and now he knows that there's a problem. And he still doesn't let the guy die. In fact, he helps him out. And he doesn't tell Kazama that it's Chizuru. Why not? Well, because he knows how Kazama operates better than anyone and he knows they'll just end up trying to kidnap Chizuru and he's really not a fan of that scenario. Plus, Saitō lived. I mean - it worked. There's one guy in the world who might actually make it and become a full Oni. And that means maybe there are others. Anyway, I think Amagiri is seriously conflicted at this point. But he's got to know that Kazama may actually kill him over this one... probably not. But, yeah, he might. Because Chizuru is cute and brave and special and has brilliant talents - and Amagiri didn't let Saitō die. And frankly, now Saitō's not just a wife-stealing human bastard, he's a threat.

Just so we're clear though: what Kazama did was appalling. I just think it was not unreasonable from a Kazama-centric view of the universe. Which is how Kazama was raised. I mean, compared to his dad, Kazama's a pretty good guy. And he was really hurting, and a hurt Kazama can do a lot of damage.

[End of overly-long Author's Rambling on KC, much of which was already noted by various reviewers :)]

As always, thank you to everyone who has stayed with this story as I slowly unravel all of my plot points. Or... something like that.

~ImpracticalOni

PS You could also just assume that all of the above is moot, because Lady Suzuka is an outstanding manipulator and her part-Oni Shinsengumi need a teacher. Hard to say.

PPS Thank you, Anon for appreciating my choice of lyrics for the last chapter. CCR FTW!

Chapter 63 - Oni Lord

[I] - Saitō or Sakurai?

It took Saitō a few minutes to get his bearings, since he wasn't used to getting directions by way of somebody else's mental images. This tendency of the Oni to share mental contact, even within carefully prescribed limits, was still rather disturbing. At the same time, it would be juvenile not to use the most efficient method of communication available, especially in a matter of importance.

It troubled him that he had to force his mind to stop dwelling—with perverse, if understandable appreciation—on the night before. Self-indulgent recollections would have to wait, along with the grave concern that he had rushed things terribly, despite his best efforts. When he thought of the way that he had taken her clothes from her—almost as fast as he could remove them without actual harm to the expensive cloth—he was horrified. Just the day before he would have given a great deal to be able to see and kiss her shoulders; but when the opportunity had finally presented itself, he had barely managed to touch her before wanting to take all of her as soon as possible. Saitō was unable to repress a sigh, which annoyed him. He had done better afterward. And she had not been unhappy; she had been pleased. That warm acceptance and pleasure, shared in both mind and body, had been the most amazing thing of all. And now was definitely not the time for such thoughts. He was appalled and embarrassed by how quickly desire could distract him, even now.

Fortunately, Amagiri's plight was still very clear in his mind. Kazama would have to be dealt with at some point, obviously, but for now the important thing was to find Amagiri, arrange matters with his brother—assuming that there was no treachery involved—and get Amagiri back to Sen-hime's home. And what of his duties with the Shinsengumi? Right now, he felt stretched thin between his barely-understood role as Sakurai Hajime, Oni lord without a clan, and Saitō Hajime, Third Division Captain. He hadn't anticipated how much becoming an Oni would change him; and yet, in the horrific transformation of the rasetsu—the aptly name Furies—he could have seen the signs. The body reflected the mind, and the mind the body.

He didn't even notice the Fast Travel. When Kimigiku-san had asked him if he'd had the opportunity to learn from Amagiri, he had merely said yes. He hadn't bothered to explain that the whole thing seemed very easy to him, or that Amagiri had merely given it words and context. Of course, perhaps with actual teaching he would learn more.

One thing that took his mind off both his personal and professional concerns was the surprise he felt at how different the world appeared to an Oni who had passed all the Trials. He was moving in his Oni form, as instructed, and just as he had noticed with his first change, all of his physical senses were significantly improved. The depth and breadth of the change was far more noticeable now, however. The storm didn't trouble him much anyway—discomfort was such an ordinary part of life as to be easily ignored—but he quickly realized that his ability to gauge exactly how the air was moving and where the rain was densest was clearly beyond what he'd imagined. It gave him a much better idea of why the Oni had seemed so contemptuous of the Shinsengumi at the Ikedaya. And yet… skill and practice and talent had to count for something…

The downside to the full Oni form was clear to him, in any event. There was no doubt that a large part of his distraction from his task was attributable to his form, especially as it was still so new to him. The moment his mind drifted from the simple chore of moving, he found himself contemplating making love with Chizuru in this form, and his first reaction—apart from the obvious, intoxicating rush of desire—was surprise that they hadn't considered it at the time. Chizuru in his arms, white hair unbound, golden eyes half-closed. He actually had to grit his teeth to regain his focus at that point, pale cheeks tinged pink with mortification, and he seriously wondered whether the greater speed and stamina of the Oni form was worth the loss of discipline.

These minor mishaps aside, he seemed to make good time. It was not much more than an hour later that he slowed to a normal walk and drew his sword, senses straining to catch the first hint that there were others present. After circling the designated meeting point twice without finding anyone, he dried and sheathed his blade and swung himself easily into a tree that overlooked the small lean-to where he was to meet Amagiri Hideaki-san. It wasn't comfortable, but that was the least of his concerns.

Not long after he had settled down to wait, he felt a prickle against his mind and then realized that Sen-hime was trying to contact him. Warily, he tried to reach outward toward her mental presence.

Shades of hell you have a tough mind to track!, was her cheerful greeting. Well, at least it sounded cheerful to him. Then there was a note of surprise: You're already there, Saitō-san?

Aa, he affirmed laconically.

Oh, well, that's good. You'll get awfully wet, though. I won't tell Chizuru-chan, she's fretting over you. I don't know why, since I assume that chasing ronin is worse for the health than a mere summer storm.

There didn't seem to be anything to say to this, so Saitō waited politely, not liking the feeling of somebody still so unknown to him touching his mind. Somehow, he could tell that Sen-hime's mind was powerful, although she masked it well.

Anyway, Kimigiku said that you would be worried about your Vice Commander and getting back to work and so on, so I thought you should know that Commander Kondō himself wrote me a very nice note saying that he would pay a visit later in the afternoon, if that was convenient, and also that you that you could have a further day's leave as long as you returned to your duties tomorrow by noon.

Sen-hime seemed to be waiting for a response, this time, so Saitō ventured a simple acknowledgment:

That is kind of Kondō-san.

He got the impression that Sen-hime didn't find the extra time off overly generous; however, she continued without expressing any direct disapproval.

Oh, and the Commander sent his congratulations to you and Chizuru-chan, which should set your mind at rest about that. I hope that you will stay here with us until tomorrow, Saitō-san? I'm sure that Chizuru-chan would like a chance to settle for the day.

Yes, thank you, Sen-hime.

Saitō realized that Sen-hime's invitation was closer to a command, but really, what else was there to do? And it was good to know that the Commander had decided to accept his rather… impetuous… marriage. Sen-hime was well-informed in many ways, but she didn't understand that Kondō-san was actually being very generous in not only agreeing to the sudden marriage of one of his officers, but in allowing Saitō any time off when the Shinsengumi were badly under-strength.

Aren't you going to send your love to your wife? Saitō found himself blinking—physically—at this strange question. He was glad that Sen-hime couldn't see the slight blush in his cheeks.

… Please tell Chizuru that there is no need to worry.

It was interesting how well an eye roll could be communicated through strictly mental contact, Saitō observed. Sen-hime's next words didn't surprise him at all.

You're so formal, Saitō-san! Harada-san told me that you'd be annoyed if I put it that way.

Saitō returned the mental equivalent of a blank stare. This conversation was actually quite useful, from the perspective of improving his skill at mental discourse.

Also, Chizuru-chan is blushing. You could at least ask after her…

Saitō was perplexed and mildly annoyed; he had left Sen-hime's home less than two hours before and there had been nothing wrong—and surely if something had changed, Sen-hime would have mentioned it by now.

Is there a problem, Sen-hime?

He got a sigh from the young princess who was directing—in fact conducting—the conversation.

No, Saitō-san. Everything is fine. I will check in on you from time to time until you have left with Amagiri.

Arigatou gozaimasu, Sen-hime.

Her presence seemed to attenuate and fade out, but he could tell that he was being observed for a few minutes longer. Then he was left alone to his dreary watch. It became more difficult not to contemplate his present circumstances—in the greater sense, that is, such as how to best fulfil his duties to the Shinsengumi, and where he and Chizuru would live, and whether he had an obligation to deal with the lands that were now, allegedly, his. Not surprisingly, such thoughts led back to his wife and from there to memories that he most emphatically did not want to share with Sen-hime. He did his best to focus instead on learning more about his newly sharpened senses, not to mention the distinct increase in power that he could feel throughout his body.

It was almost an hour later that Amagiri and his brother arrived. Fortunately, Saitō had ample experience with the effects of severe injury and shock—of more than one kind in this case, he thought—and he went to Amagiri Hideaki-san's assistance the moment he had taken stock of the situation. He sensed no trap and judged it wiser to present himself in a neutral, rather than adversarial guise.

The brothers were much alike in general appearance, although Amagiri Hideaki-san wore a sword at his side—just the one, like Kazama Chikage-sama, but longer and heavier than a katana, and less curved. Saitō halted just beyond easy reach, hands held loosely at his sides. However, Hideaki-san must have also concluded that there was to be no violence: he paused only long enough to scan the newcomer—with an extra moment to take in the four sharp horns rising through the long white hair—before wordlessly allowing Saitō to help him move Amagiri to the shelter of the lean-to. As hardened as he was, Saitō's lips tightened at the sight of the mangled right arm and what he could see of the chest wound under the damp black jacket. These injuries were in some way his responsibility. Also, it was not lost on him that Amagiri was in his human form, which meant that the wounds were at least partially resisting any use of his Oni Gifts, which could include Fast Travel. The journey would not have been an easy one for either of the brothers.

Amagiri said nothing as they helped him to sit, legs stretched out in front of him, and lean back against the innermost wall. He met Saitō's eyes briefly, and then closed his own with a faint sigh. Hideaki-san turned and immediately bowed to Saitō:

"I apologize for not greeting you properly, Sakurai-sama," he said politely, his voice only a fraction lighter than Amagiri's.

"There is no need. What do I need to know about Amagiri Kyūju-san's condition?"

Hideaki-san seemed to be having some difficulty reconciling Saitō's very existence with everything he'd known up until this morning; at least, that was the impression Saitō received. Under the politeness and reserve, there was both curiosity and a thread of hostility. Either he did not mask his feelings quite as well as his elder brother, or he chose not to.

"Ah—Kyūju will need some rest before he can travel again. However, his own ability with Fast Travel means that even with limited resources he can still move to some degree. The deepest wounds continue to bleed, however, and we should wrap them more tightly now—that is, if you do not mind, Sakurai-sama?"

Saitō thought that he understood at least some of Hideaki-san's slightly ambivalent courtesy. The other man appeared to be a few years older than Saitō, which meant that he was likely a decade or so past his Trials. Moreover, he was a big man, and Saitō was not physically intimidating in the same way as Souji or Shinpachi-san. Looking half-drowned likely didn't help. On the other hand, by upbringing, Hideaki-san would be very deferential to any clan head. And the "four-pointed crown" aside, anyone trained by Amagiri would have learned how to sense power and recognize authority. All of the captains of the Shinsengumi, even impulsive Heisuke and mild Inoue-san, could project authority when necessary.

Just then, Saitō felt the light touch of Sen-hime on his mind. As she did not speak, he assumed that she intended merely to observe. He knelt beside Amagiri, careful not to fully turn his back on Hideaki-san. With a minimum of jostling—or, indeed, conversation—he and the other man unbound, cleaned and rebound the rather horrifying cross on Amagiri's chest. Saitō was glad that Chizuru had thought to send clean strips of linen with him; it was the advantage of having experience with wounds that didn't immediately heal themselves.

When they were done, Saitō indicated that he would accompany the other man out of the shelter. He stepped politely away to at least provide a semblance of privacy, but neither of the brothers spoke, or at least not so that he could hear. He found it indicative, however, that Hideaki-san did not do more than incline his head to his elder brother upon leaving him wholly in the care of a stranger—an allegedly human stranger at that. To be fair, the new Heir-apparent to the Amagiri clan abruptly found himself much better off than he had been before his elder brother's disgrace. Moreover, regardless of family ties, his first duty lay to his lord, and Kazama-sama had made his wishes manifestly clear.

Saitō walked with the man to the edge of the clearing. They both stopped at the same time, facing each other warily. Saitō waited patiently. Finally Hideaki-san bowed slightly.

"I have a message for Sen-hime from Kazama-sama," he said, slowly withdrawing a folded and sealed letter from within his coat. "Would you be able to deliver this to the Princess?"

"Hai." Saitō extended a hand for the letter, glanced at the inscription, and tucked it away. Anticipating what was coming next, he shifted his weight imperceptibly forward. He didn't need Oni senses to recognize the prelude to a confrontation. The letter should have been delivered while they were under shelter; the circumstances more than hinted at careful staging.

"Kazama-sama also asked me to deliver a message to Sakurai Hajime-sama, who is known to play with the wolves of Mibu."

Again, Saitō waited, refusing to be baited. Receiving no response, Hideaki-san continued:

"My lord warns you that a wolf cub should not pretend to be fit for the company of his betters. When he does, the consequences of his vanity may endanger the whole pack."

The phrases were spoken politely but the words were clearly both an insult and a threat. To his surprise, Saitō found his spirits lift. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to hit somebody until now. That was far more in Sōji's line than his. It wasn't that the words bothered him especially, but it would be an error to back down in front of a mere messenger.

It was a calculated risk to attack, since he had no true measure of the other man's abilities; he would have to hope that the man had less experience with actual combat than he did. On balance, though, it seemed likely to be the case. On the other hand, Saitō had only ever fought one other Oni, and never with steel.

Without a word, and almost too fast for human eyes to follow, Saitō drew his blade and delivered a stinging blow to his opponent's cheek. Hideaki-san leaped back with exceptional speed, which saved him from really serious damage, but the tip of Saitō's sword tagged the Oni's cheek from his mouth to the lower corner of his right eye. The wound closed quickly, but not before blood welled out of the cut and several drops trickled over the pale skin. Hideaki-san drew his sword and adopted a more defensive stance.

"Was that the message?" Saitō asked softly, testing the feel of his sword in his clawed hands. It seemed too light, and for a moment he wished he had the Sakurai tachi, which was heavier and a little longer. "Was it worth risking your life?"

Hideaki-san didn't respond. Instead, he appeared to be re-evaluating his opponent. Unfortunately for him, Saitō had a retentive mind and had studied with a good teacher when it came to Oni tricks. When the first, heavy wave of coercion smashed into his mind he let it break harmlessly against and around granite walls. There wasn't much else he could do—he'd learned nothing else—but it gave him some faith in his heritage: even without much training he could defend himself. He launched a counter-attack immediately, since he had no desire for Hideaki-san to find out how untrained he was.

It surprised him when both of his quick blows connected, forcing his opponent once again on the defensive. It was an odd feeling, not knowing exactly what the outcome of this fight would be—not even knowing his own abilities. And yet… he still had that curious exhilaration, combined with the desire to strike out at somebody, preferably Kazama. Kazama's envoy would have to do, even if he was Amagiri's brother.

Saitō increased his pace, methodically working his way upward and trying to match his style to his new speed and strength. It was a little frustrating, because he had so much more power and couldn't make the best use of it. He made contact again, but his inexperience finally told against him when he missed an incoming kick to his left knee. The blow barely landed, but it threw him off balance slightly and allowed the other man to press another combined physical and mental attack. However, although the second attack on his mind was more subtle and better directed, it failed to find a chink in the Sakurai defensive armour. It was another distraction, though, and he allowed himself to give ground in order to recover his form. It was very strange to feel less than perfectly at ease with his sword.

Hideaki-san finally started to fight in complete earnest, and despite his Oni form and generally tough frame, Saitō could feel the force of the incoming blows. Within moments he realized that he would need to be careful of his blade; he remembered the state of Sōji's sword after fighting Kazama, and he starting dodging attacks instead of parrying. This wasn't a display match, after all. It occurred to him—although it was annoying to have random thoughts while in battle—that the Vice Commander would adapt very well as an Oni. Hijikata-san never allowed form to distract him from using every possible advantage to defeat his enemies as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Only a few minutes had actually passed, but Saitō felt that he now had a better measure of his opponent. Moreover, he found that he was becoming acclimatized more quickly than he had expected to wielding a blade in this form. He needed to end this fight and get Amagiri back to Kyoto. Saitō took a few moments to focus his sensory-overloaded mind, and then launched into a series of blows that worked inexorably toward one goal: relieving Hideaki-san of his weapon. He was satisfied to see a look of surprise and concern appear on the bigger man's face as the Oni struggled and failed to regain control of the direction of the fight; that expression changed to shock when there was a distinct snap and the overlong tachi flew from suddenly nerveless fingers and buried itself in the undergrowth several feet away.

Saitō had learned to be ruthless over the last few years of his comparatively short life. Knowing that Hideaki-san's broken wrist and bleeding hand would heal quickly enough from the wounds inflicted by ordinary steel, he pressed in with a mixture of both armed and unarmed styles, ultimately dumping the other man onto the ground bleeding from numerous gashes. It occurred to him that he didn't know whether the Oni would prefer to die rather than surrender; he hoped not, since while he had few compunctions about killing, it would be distinctly awkward in the present case.

"I yield, lord!" The cry was echoed in his mind, tinged with rage and shame but also with a flicker of fear. Hideaki-san was no coward, but the Oni valued their lives, as Saitō had hoped.

Saitō stepped backward and lowered his sword. He watched warily for any sign of treachery, but the other man didn't move until Saitō took another step back—not coincidentally placing himself directly between Hideaki-san and his lost blade—and said: "I accept." His kept his tone deliberately indifferent, having learned since youth that contempt was a more effective tool for intimidation than anger.

As Hideaki-san rose to his feet, Saitō became more aware again of the gusting wind and steady rain. The sky was uniformly dark with heavy clouds.

"You will inform Kazama Chikage-sama that he touches me or mine at his peril," said Saitō icily. "Also, that I have spared your life for only two reasons: first because you are the brother of a man I consider kin and who has already borne too much today; and second because I do not wish to destroy my own kind. Princess Osen would not want me to kill you."

Hideaki-san bowed. "I will relay your messages, Sakurai-sama."

Saitō felt no pity for the man, although he would now have to deliver some very unwelcome news to his lord. Chizuru would, he thought somewhat inconsequently. He had found her way of caring for people rather indiscriminate at first, and he couldn't deny that it still frustrated him at times. That being said, having seen that caring about a person was never just a passing thing for her, he had revised his opinion that it was a weakness. It took a great deal of courage to be open-hearted with that kind of constancy. It also made Chizuru's husband paranoid; fortunately, he was used to living that way.

He waited to see if Hideaki-san would ask for his sword back. The answer would be no, at least for the moment. Apparently, the Amagiri Heir-apparent read the situation accurately, because after a short hesitation he gave a low bow and moved swiftly and silently away from the clearing. Saitō collected the sword and quickly returned to the lean-to.

This time, Amagiri's eyes were open, and they held a distinctly sardonic look. It was an unusual expression for him.

"At least you have something to show for your trouble," he said dryly.

"Neither of us had a choice," Saitō replied, taking the letter from Sen out of his shirt to see if it was still legible given that he'd had nowhere dry to place it. It wasn't bad; at least, the writing on the outside had run less than he would have expected. He tucked it into the small oilskin bag that Chizuru had packed with clean bandages, and drew out two small packages wrapped in parchment paper.

It was food, of course; neither Chizuru nor Sen-hime would have let him leave without it. He was lucky they hadn't insisted on packing extra clothes. He silently handed Amagiri a slightly deformed onigiri and took the other for himself. They ate quickly, drank water, and were ready to travel within ten minutes. It was strangely companionable, even though it was difficult to ignore the other man's injuries. Amagiri didn't ask about the incident with his brother, but when they rose to depart he offered to carry the sword.

"It won't trouble me," he said, "and you will be better off without it across your back, especially without the scabbard." When Saitō hesitated, he smiled faintly. "I have carried it before, you know, and even used it. It's an old blade and something of an heirloom, though not the only such. More fool Hideaki to have risked against you."

They left the place shortly afterward, both being practical men and used to making use of whatever was to hand. Saitō was concerned about the furrows of pain that showed on the other's face, but there was nothing to be gained by commenting on the obvious. Instead he asked Amagiri how best to manage the travelling.

"Sen-hime was in touch with me," Amagiri told him, "and she will assist me. She said that you didn't like speaking with her anyway."

Saitō had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "I did not mean to offend," he ventured.

"It is fine. She understands." Then he sighed. "Also, she asks me to tell you that Chizuru is fine, but worried, and that you fought very well. She hopes you noticed that she did not interfere."

"Aa." In fact, Saitō had wondered about that. He had hoped that she would not, but even now he wasn't really sure. Had she somehow slowed Hideaki-san's reflexes, for instance?

They had just started moving more quickly, when Amagiri asked: "How would you prefer me to address you? Sen-hime says that you seem to be more comfortable with Saitō-san, but the Princess tends to be unconventional."

Saitō suspected that a great deal more had gone on in that conversation than Amagiri was saying. It had probably involved Chizuru. Slowly, he replied:

"I would prefer to change nothing, unless you would dislike it." He felt as if this were a dangerous subject with a man whose decade-long service had just been brutally ended by an unforgiving master, but Amagiri was right to raise it.

"Except when formality demands otherwise, I will do as you wish," Amagiri responded briefly. He must have caught some flicker of ambivalence or concern from Saitō, because he continued: "It is not that I mind the familiarity, Hajime-kun, but I do wish to safeguard your position."

"You know that I would release you from my service if I thought that you would prefer it."

Saitō was still choosing his words with care, feeling his way along an unfamiliar path. His father had been resentful and ultimately full of hate; the same had been true of his older brother, obviously. He did not really know his sister. He still hadn't had the time to think about his blood connection to Hijikata-san or Yamazaki—or to the Shiranui clan, which was another matter altogether. Up until a week ago he had kept his relationships quite simple, on the whole.

"I wouldn't," Amagiri said curtly. "As you know. You will have my oath as soon as I am fit to give it."

And that was that. It had been the expected conclusion, except that the human part of Saitō was surprised that the Oni warrior would not prefer to be taken into Sen-hime's household instead. The remaining option they did not speak of, and Saitō found himself unwilling to consider it.

Amagiri unconsciously—maybe—echoed Saitō's earlier thoughts: "You have a complicated family, Hajime-kun. And a week ago I would have been insulted to have to consider a human, especially a ronin, as kin. But we seem to be bound together. Perhaps the debts of the past do require some accounting, at that."

Saitō had no response to that, and no desire to reflect on the ugliness that he had seen during his Trial of Mind. As Sen-hime seemed to be aiding Amagiri a great deal, he shifted the weight of the Oni's arm on his shoulder slightly and started to gradually increase their pace together through Fast Travel.

[II] - "My Wife"

Kimigiku reached them not far from where she and Amagiri had met the younger Kazama siblings just the night before. The irony of this was not lost on her. In fact, she had left the house with some reluctance, because Haru-chan was silently fretting over the situation—the little they had told her of it—and Kichirō-kun was both anxious and restless. This left the Princess and Chizuru-sama virtually unprotected should anything strange happen, to her way of thinking. On the other hand, Harada-san's arrival, quite early that morning, had been surprisingly helpful.

She could not quite approve of the tall red-head as a potential lover for Sen-hime, for many reasons, not the least of which was his familiarity with Shimabara, Kyoto's official red light district. On the other, she was forced to concede that he had no current lover that she was aware of either among the courtesans or among the (admittedly many) local young women of marriageable age who had shown an inclination for his company. At least he seemed to have better sense and discretion than his preferred drinking companion, Nagakura-san.

She had left Harada-san comfortably ensconced in the reception room, his strange amber eyes dancing a little as he took in her ambivalence at his presence. He was chatting amiably with Kichirō-kun, who seemed to have provisionally decided to treat him as a kind of distant relative rather than a despised human. This was better than they'd hoped for, since he had come down to breakfast in a silent, formal mood that was far too reminiscent of his older brother, although without the same arrogance. Oddly enough, despite the boy's increasing anxiety about his impromptu visit to Kyoto, his admiration for Hijikata-san remained unabated—as did his slight dread of Saitō-san. Naturally, Harada-san found this very funny.

Like Saitō, Kimigiku was not unfamiliar with serious injuries; moreover, she had watched part of the morning's events unfold. Nevertheless, she put aside her concerns for Sen-hime's safety the moment she saw Amagiri's shocking wounds in person. The ugly gashes on his face were bad enough—and it was eerie that they weren't healing—but the grievous marks on his neck and upper arm hinted at the terrible damage to his chest.

As Sen-hime had told her, Saitō-san looked remarkably fit for a man who had been more or less awake for the last twenty-four hours, during which time he had passed his Trials, gotten married, bedded his new wife, Fast Travelled roughly fifty miles, and then fought a short, but pitched battle with an adult Oni with a grudge. And that wasn't taking into account either the storm or the overwhelming changes that both passing the Trials and taking a mate usually entailed.

Naturally, he thanked her for her assistance with his usual unsmiling courtesy.

"If you could take the sword from Amagiri, and the satchel from me, it would be appreciated, Kimigiku-san."

"As you wish Saitō-san. I will leave you to support Amagiri-san, while I bring us to the house." She noted that Saitō-san had used no honorific with Amagiri-san's name, but as he conveyed nothing but respect otherwise it did not seem to be related to the latter's loss of status or the fact that he was now effectively a vassal—if even that—of Saitō-san.

They reached the house shortly afterward, and if Saitō-san was unable to resist exchanging one short, searing look with Chizuru-sama when she met them at the door, nobody faulted him. Especially as both of them blushed deeply a moment later. Kimigiku was glad that Sen-hime had remained with her guests. Being with the newly-married, or more accurately newly-mated, pair was not entirely comfortable. She was taken aback when Amagiri-san gave her a look of amused and surprisingly sympathetic understanding, despite his evident—and increasing—pain. She might have to reconsider certain long-held grievances once things settled down a little. Then again, Amagiri-san might be willing to tell her more now that so much time had passed.

Chizuru-sama led the way to a comfortable room that had been prepared on the main floor near both the baths and the kitchen. It was usually a kind of small sitting room, or utility room, depending on the time of year and the need, but the young bride had worked with the two servants to clean it out and refurnish it so that now it was the perfect space for a badly injured man to hopefully heal and recuperate. The one odd feature of the room was a raised bed, which Kimigiku regarded with curiosity and the two men with some suspicion.

"It's a little roughly built, course, but you will find it perfectly comfortable, Amagiri-san, and much better for you than just having a futon on the floor. Getting up and down is always the most difficult with your kind of injuries, and my—" She halted abruptly. "In my experience," she said at last, avoiding the difficult subject of Kōdō-sensei, "the raised bed under the futon is also extremely helpful for treating and cleaning wounds."

Her audience had listened to her politely, and Amagiri immediately reassured her that he could see the benefit: "It is a very sensible idea, Yukimura-sama. I appreciate your care for my well-being."

Saitō had been studying the bed while Chizuru spoke, partly out of interest and partly because it helped to distract him from how close she was. It seemed that his wish to become more… calm… around her had not been granted.

"If we remove the futon for a moment, then Amagiri can sit while you help me with the bandages, Chizuru. Without everything getting wet, I mean."

"No," said Amagiri firmly. "With respect, Saitō…" The other three could almost see the effort it took not to use a more formal term of address. "It would be best if you were to help me change into dry clothing first and then Yukimura-sama can assist me with my injuries, if necessary."

Saitō gave him a surprised look but nodded. He looked at his wife and then had to blink to keep his attention from wandering.

"There are dry clothes in the wardrobe, H-Hajime, Amagiri-san," Chizuru murmured, blushing unaccountably. "Excuse me, please." She bowed politely and hurried out, followed by Kimigiku-san, who indicated the hot tea on a low table before closing the door behind her.

Saitō looked at Amagiri, who sighed, suddenly lacking the energy to explain. The younger man immediately remembered what he was supposed to be doing and started helping Amagiri out of his wet clothes. Neither of them spoke during this process, which required endurance on one part and deftness on the other. Saitō was also struggling against outrage as the full extent of the damage could now be plainly seen. The mangled right arm, ending at the wrist, he could do little about, and he decided against removing the bandages. As soon as Amagiri had clean, dry hakama, he sank gratefully onto the bed, eyes closed against the pain.

"Tea, Kyūju-san." A warm cup was pressed into his hand. "If I know my wife—" oh, the pride in that word! "—then it will contain something useful for pain and possible fever."

Wordlessly, Amagiri drained the cup and passed it back for more. It had an odd, but not unpleasant taste, and although it was not cold out, the relentless storm made it feel somehow more like fall than the middle of the summer; besides, he was chilled, most likely from shock. When Saitō handed him a second cup, he sipped at it more slowly and tried to organize his thoughts while the other man finally changed into dry clothes —Yukimura-sama had remembered everything, it seemed. When Saitō was kneeling on the floor in front of him, wanting to help but also needing information, he tried to be as concise as possible:

"The difficulty is that it is too soon after your wedding ritual, and your first time together as lovers physically, for you to be comfortably apart or even around other Oni. At least, that is my best guess. There have been very few pureblood Oni weddings in the last few decades, of which I personally can only remember two. The first was when Yukimura-sama's parents were married, and I have been basing my understanding of your situation on theirs. I think that such a union is one founded on what the Okikurune of Yase—Sen-hime's people—refer to as the Trial of Heart. This so-called Fourth Trial is also part of the culture the Eastern Clans. The Western Clans barely speak of it other than as a pretty myth. Regardless of what it really is, for an Oni to form any part of that kind of physical, mental and emotional bond without completing it—including the final binding of blood ritual—is very uncomfortable. For such an Oni to be around you and Yukimura-sama right now, when you have forged such a bond and it is still new and very bright—for lack of a better word—is almost painful. As Oni, we are very vulnerable to the intangible because it is just as real as the tangible, for better or for worse."

Saitō was silent. A great deal had been said, some directly and some by implication. After a moment, he stood up.

"Then Chizuru will do what she can for you now, with Kimigiku-san's assistance. A qualified doctor is needed in any event. Is there one that you trust?"

"No. Not in this matter. Yukimura-sama's help will be sufficient."

"That is unfair to her," Saitō said briefly. "If anything goes wrong, she will blame herself. Instead, I will ask if Yamazaki can look after your injuries. He is qualified to deal with sword wounds and exceptionally competent in other ways."

It was obvious that Amagiri was beginning to have trouble sitting up, but he shook his head.

"I would not be comfortable with that."

Saitō just looked at him, dark blue eyes suddenly flat and uncompromising.

"I did not ask for your opinion."

There was a moment's tense silence, and then Saitō bowed slightly and left. Or rather tried to leave. As he turned to slide the door closed behind him he was caught and held for a moment by Amagiri's parting words: There is hope for you yet, Hajime-kun.

Strangely relieved, Saitō closed the door and went in search of his wife.

[END]

A/Note: Next chapter... Sen-hime meets Kondō-san and, well, other stuff. There will likely be happy fluff, because I want to write some.