Author's Note:

May you all prosper in 2017.

~ ImpracticalOni

Chapter 71 – Execution

[I] - An Unpopular Report

Kazama continued to stare out his second-floor window at the drizzling rain. Hideaki was late, which did not augur well for his errand. On the other hand, it would have taken some time for the man to transport his badly injured brother to the meeting place, tend to that brother's wounds, speak with the upstart, bastard wolf cub who aspired to be the Oni clan head of a long-fallen clan, teach the cur a lesson, and return here. Somewhere in his roiling thoughts, Kazama was beginning to acknowledge the terrible loss he had suffered with his former vassal's defection.

Of course, it was primarily the loss of that man's services he regretted, not the man himself. Hideaki was not as strong as his brother, nor as disciplined. But he was loyal and well-trained, and being Heir might eventually bring him closer to his elder brother's level of overall power. Kazama had always gotten along well with him, and at least he was familiar. But why had the elder brother suddenly changed his loyalties after all these years? It was maddening.

Shiranui Kyō sat across the room drinking sake. His own thoughts were unsettled. He remembered his words to Amagiri, and it troubled him that if what Kazama had told him was true, and Saitō Hajime had passed the Three Trials, then Shiranui was bound by promise to acknowledge the Shinsengumi captain as his brother. He hadn't mentioned that to Kazama. How had Amagiri achieved so much with that human? Former human, allegedly. Now married to the last of the Yukimura, which was Kazama's real beef with the impassive swordsman.

And that whole business with the mental tampering. Shiranui might seem like a casual, slightly wild kind of Oni—which in fact he was—but as Amagiri had always pointed out to him, he was stronger and had greater potential than he typically acknowledged, even to himself. He was also more aware of human politics than most Oni other than Sen-hime and Kazama, both of whom were required to deal with humans on behalf of the clans. In the essentials, he was better suited to lead his clan than his elder brother, but he had no desire to tie himself down to such a way of life.

A voice at the door—Amagiri Hideaki-san's, he thought—brought Kazama's head around quickly. More eagerly than the Lord of the West would typically allow, in fact. Another niggling detail to make Shiranui think that Amagiri Kyūju had been correct that the situation with the Shinsengumi of Kyōtō was more serious than any of them had expected.

"Enter," Kazama told the man at the door.

Hideaki stepped into the room, knelt, and bowed deeply. He was wet, although not bedraggled in the way that a human with no Gifts would be. Shiranui saw the tattered right sleeve and immediately got interested. Had the man been fighting? With the newest Oni lord, perhaps? The empty scabbard did not augur well for him, if so. Shiranui slid his eyes to Kazama, who had observed the torn sleeve and the missing sword. The ruby-eyed Lord of the West was looking distinctly unhappy, in a narrow-eyed, tight-mouthed kind of way.

There was a short silence, and then Kazama growled: "Well?"

"The meeting with Sakurai-sama took place as planned, Kazama-sama. The terms of your agreement with Sen-him have been met."

"He fought you though?"

"Yes. I delivered your message as instructed. He took exception to your words. He was already in Oni form when I arrived and maintained that form throughout our conversation and subsequent fight."

"And you lost." Kazama sounded disgusted, but Hideaki didn't flinch.

"Yes, Kazama-sama. I judge that Sakurai-sama was slightly uncertain at first, but that was only noticeable in contrast to his later movements. He is unusually fast and exceptionally capable with a sword. Once he had evaluated my movements—and, in my opinion, his own—he showed no hesitation in ending the fight immediately. He had no significant difficulty in doing so. Of course, my family's skill does not really lie with blades. Nevertheless, I believe my judgment is sound."

Shiranui whistled softly, which earned him a very dirty glare from Kazama. The gun-slinger didn't exactly ignore the glare, but he didn't back down, either. Instead he shrugged.

"The Shinsengumi captains are supposed to be masters with the sword. It's what they're known for. Except for my spearman, of course."

"Your spearman?" demanded Kazama, side-tracked by Shiranui's deliberate wording.

"Well, he's the one I got to fight at the Ikedaya, and I had fun playing with him when I was stuck at Osen-chan's." Violet eyes met scarlet for a moment, as Kazama digested this piece of information, along with Shiranui's implicit reminder that he had gone to Sen's in the first place at Kazama's request.

Kazama alighted from the window-ledge and stared down at Hideaki. Shiranui smiled faintly to himself. Kazama was very good at changing tacks when he didn't like where a particular discussion was going. On the other hand, it didn't mean that his quick mind hadn't filed away what he'd heard for consideration.

"Did you have to leave the sword behind?" Kazama asked Hideaki, his tone distinctly unfriendly. "A family heirloom, wasn't it?"

"Sakurai-sama disarmed me by breaking my wrist. It was clear that he planned the entire move and fully intended to keep the sword." Hideaki ignored the second question, as Kazama obviously knew the answer.

On the whole, Shiranui thought that the younger Amagiri was doing justice to his elder brother's training. Of course, it would cost him more effort to keep his cool than Kyūju-san, but he was handling it pretty well. The situation was rather entertaining, really. Kazama couldn't quite avoid clenching his jaw every time Hideaki said "Sakurai-sama". A small part of Shiranui wanted to say something like "sounds like my little brother's got some serious moves now", but two things prevented him. The first was the damn demon-killing sword in the corner, which was a bad combination with Kazama's rotten mood. The second was that Shiranui was a bit annoyed himself that the brat was probably even faster now than he'd been the first time they'd met in Sen's garden. Shiranui knew exactly what a difference it made to be a clan head: he'd seen Kazama go through the same power transition when both were in their late teens, and he knew that he couldn't take Kazama in a straight on fight.

Of course, it was very unlikely that his half-brother could take Kazama either, at least, not yet. Amagiri couldn't have taught him a tenth of what he really needed to know; the kid was probably getting by on power and human fighting skill alone. Not that Shiranui was totally discounting the fighting skill, given what he'd seen of the Shinsengumi so far. They weren't really up to fighting an Oni, but Harada had been… interesting.

Hideaki interrupted his thoughts, and apparently Kazama's as well.

"Sakurai-sama asked me to give you a message, Kazama-sama."

Kazama glowered at his vassal, a man he had grown up with, even played with, if such an undignified term could be applied to anything associated with the blond Oni leader. "Why should I be bothered to listen?"

"That is as you wish of course, Kazama-sama."

Kazama turned his back on the other two and returned to staring out the window. Three or four minutes passed, and although Hideaki didn't stir, Shiranui got bored.

"Well, I'm curious if you're not, Chikage. I vote we hear it."

"You don't have a vote," snapped Kazama, predictably.

"I could just ask Hideaki later, you know."

"He wouldn't tell you without my permission."

Shiranui rolled his eyes. Kazama caught between wounded pride and a genuine need to evaluate the (apparently) new Oni lord was rather like a sulky child. Unfortunately, he was a sulky child who could tear you to shreds if you weren't just a little bit cautious. Unbidden, he had an image of Amagiri, bleeding from the wounds of the Dōjigiri. Cousin Chikage was not doing well at the moment, no matter how controlled he appeared.

"Chikage, I know it'll be annoying but we might as well hear it and get it over with."

His blond cousin frowned at the familiarity, but the truth was that they had used first names with each other many times in the past. Shiranui waited to see if the implicit offer to deal with the situation as allies (well, to a point), would be accepted. Finally, Kazama gave a curt nod.

"Perhaps. Hideaki, what was the message?"

"He asked me to tell you that you touch him or that which is his at your peril." Hideaki pretended not to hear the hiss of irritation that escaped Kazama-sama's lips. He wanted to relay the whole message as quickly as possible. "Also, that he let me live for two reasons: first, because I am the brother of a man he considers kin; and second, because he did not wish to destroy his own kind. He stated that Princess Osen would not want him to kill me."

There was another silence.

Shiranui was thinking that the message was perfect to get under Kazama's skin: first, it was a thinly veiled challenge; second, it suggested that Saitō valued Oni lives more highly than Kazama. The Shinsengumi were going to provide some real amusement at this rate. Except, of course, that Saitō, now Sakurai-sama, could be a real pain in the ass unless Hideaki was completely over-rating the guy, which seemed unlikely.

"The attack is in two days," Kazama said softly, apparently ignoring Saitō's message.

"Yep," agreed Shiranui. "Stupid of the humans, but there it is and there we'll be. On opposite sides, of course," he added helpfully.

"Well, I suppose we'll see you there." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"That's the plan."

Kazama continued to stare out the window.

"If they want to play with fire…" he murmured softly.

Shiranui's interest was piqued. "You're going start something with the Shinsengumi if they're summoned to the battle?"

Hideaki cleared his throat, but Kazama raised a hand.

"I know. The Satsuma and the Aizu are not in conflict right now. Nevertheless, it will be an opportunity to test the resolve of these part-Oni. Besides, Shiranui has already decided that he wants to play with the Bakufu dogs. Why should we deprive ourselves of the pleasure?"

"Yes, Kazama-sama."

For just a moment, Shiranui felt sorry for Kazama's new lackey. Oh well, it wasn't really his problem. If Kazama got too controlling, he—Shiranui—could just leave for a while. Except… He frowned. There was one aspect to this that hadn't occurred to him before.

"Ah, you do see it now, don't you?" Kazama's mocking voice grated. "If the Yukimura are restored to power, then the Shiranui will be bound to them once again. I trust you will enjoy having Sakurai-sama enforcing his lady's will."

Shiranui clamped down on his first thought: Kazama or Yukimura, what difference does it make to me? He felt that Kazama had been pushed far enough today. Besides, he usually avoided getting dragged too far into Oni politics. Once he was old enough to understand, he had become more and more aware of the fact that the Oni race was dying. Individually, the Oni were immensely powerful; collectively, something had gone wrong hundreds of years before and he couldn't see how it could be corrected. Unlike traditionalists like Kazama and Amagiri—Kyuju-san, that is—his approach was to immerse himself in all the newest things, including strange western styles and weapons.

Kazama had turned to look at him, waiting for an answer.

"I see it, but I don't know what I think," Shiranui responded at last, surprising himself with a serious answer. "It's going to be a very different world if part-Oni can become Oni. On the other hand, you know how I feel: it's going to be a different world no matter what, as technology improves. I don't really care much for humans in a general way, but I don't underestimate them either. As you've said before, I'm a bit strange."

He met Kazama's eyes long enough to give the fuming leader of the Western Clans his trade-mark, slightly manic grin. Let the blond man believe what he believed—that the pureblood clans could be saved and the Oni could dissociate themselves entirely from humans. Most importantly, let Kazama believe him to be a light-weight; it allowed Shiranui to continue to make his own choices and go his own way when he was only taken semi-seriously. The thoughtful look in his cousin's eyes warned him that Kazama saw at least partially below the surface of his words, however.

"I will see you in two days," was all he said, however.

"Yeah, see you then. Good luck Hideaki—I guess I'll see you later too."

Hideaki inclined his head in acknowledgment but said nothing. Shiranui wanted to laugh: the man was remarkably like his older brother. But Shiranui had a feeling that Amagiri was going to be a hard man to replace. Kazama was in a rage about having the Yukimura girl snatched out from under his nose, even if he was concealing it better now. Based on all the evidence, there was no way that Hideaki was up to the task of restraining Kazama the way that Kyūju-san had.

[II] - Guarding the Princess

Harada received a message very early the morning after helping Hijikata-san arrange for Yamazaki's care. In fact, Yamazaki was mentioned in the note, which was written in Saitō's neat, rather plain script. The note was delivered to him by a rather dazed looking soldier, who described the messenger as very beautiful, with a cloud of black hair and purple eyes. The man looked enviously at the Tenth Division Captain, who just took the note and sent the soldier on his way. As reluctant as Harada was to trust anything that might have been tampered with by the unknown spy, the handwriting and the contents suggested that it was genuine:

"Princess visiting enemy; suggest late morning patrol in southwest quarter near outskirts. Precautions taken unsatisfactory. Yamazaki still unwell."

Another sentence had been added to the note in a more graceful script:

"Make yourself useful. She's being reckless."

Harada sighed and scrubbed at his eyes. He wondered if he'd ever get a full night's rest again. Nevertheless, he was up, washed and dressed just a few minutes later. He needed to decide what was worse: telling Hijikata-san why he wanted to take a morning shift when he'd gotten in at two the night before, or trading shifts without telling the Vice Commander and being found out later. He grumbled under his breath at Saitō and Kimigiku-san.

By the time he'd gotten to Hijikata-san's quarters and heard movement within, he'd gotten over his irritation (mostly) but discovered that he was unaccountably anxious.

"Damn Oni," he muttered.

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Hijikata-san!"

"Well you are standing outside my room," the Vice Commander said dryly. "Fortunately, I wanted to see you. I seem to have a new power to summon officers. Amagiri-san didn't mention that one."

Harada blinked and resisted the urge to sniff for sake. Hijikata-san sometimes had a strange sense of humour. Wordlessly, he held out the note. The Vice Commander read it, scowled, crumpled it, read it again and handed it back to Harada.

"We're a police force, not a fucking bodyguard agency!"

"Yes, Vice Commander."

"We're understrength, Saitō's off playing house with Yukimura, Yamazaki's out of commission, Souji's hurt again, Heisuke's sulking, and you're—gods, I have no idea what you're mixed up in… Meanwhile, other than Gen-san, Nagakura's my one really reliable officer, may the gods help all of us!"

Harada stayed quiet and tried to look sympathetic. One of Hijikata-san's more interesting traits as a commanding officer was that he was at both his worst and his best when ranting. Sure enough, after a short silence, Hijikata sighed and his mouth quirked into something like a smile.

"Alright, switch with Souji. I was going to replace him anyway. You and Nagakura can aim to meet up at about ten-thirty or so in the southwest. Your vice-captains can look after the last hour or so. Besides, you have some of Saitō's men, right?"

Harada nodded.

"Magoshi is shaping up well. If you run into some kind of weird Oni trouble, then give him your division." Hijikata suddenly looked amused. "You know, to be fair, I think Souji's Vice-Captain deserves a chance to get more exercise in, don't you?"

"Takeda? Are you mad at Shinpachi for something? He really doesn't like that guy…"

Hijikata smirked for a moment. "Exactly. He deserves the chance to make Takeda run some errands. You know, to take the edge off his, ah, energy."

Harada shook his head. Hijikata-san didn't miss much.

"Good luck, Harada. Try to come back in one piece, will you?"

"Sure. Anything I should know about Yamazaki?"

"Somebody put him under a spell. Now he can heal like an Oni—or a fury. Downside is that it's forcing him to turn into an Oni, kind of like what happened with Saitō. So it heals him, but it could kill him."

"We have got to find that creep!"

"So get out there and find him, already—but after breakfast."

[III] - Treason & Consequences

In the ancient, formal reception chamber of the Yukishima clan, Chikame had fainted, the echoes of her scream still echoing in the minds of those around her. One look at Sen's blazing anger and Chiharu's horrified disgust was enough for the Yukishima clan head to complete shifting form and attack. Her brother ignored the crumpled body of his niece to do the same. They were obviously well-used to working together, and blazing white exploded in front of Sen even as two sets of shuriken, flashing in the brilliant light, flew at her head, neck, and lower abdomen.

Chiharu, anticipating the attack, thanked her brother's and Amagiri's strict training as her own shift happened near-instantly, so that she was already between Sen and the attacks, letting her battle reflexes help her knock away the spinning, four-pointed weapons. Unfortunately, she was partially blinded by the light, and nearly stumbled over Chikame's still form. Two of the shuriken were harmless enough, but those thrown by Yukishima Masura stung as Chiharu brushed them aside with the backs of her hands. Both hands suddenly felt as though somebody had drawn cold fire across the backs, and the cuts didn't close.

Sen shouted a command, and translucent purple flame enveloped the two of them, along with Chikame. Their attackers, both of whom had drawn long daggers—from somewhere—were knocked back slightly. Yukishima-sama seemed entirely unfazed, however. There was a blur of motion, and suddenly they couldn't see her.

"I can't hold this long, but it will give us a moment," said Sen, hastily pulling a short knife from her elegant obi and slitting her long skirt across three pre-arranged stitches. A long overskirt fell away, even as the purple flames died, and Sen drew a long katana—apparently out of nowhere—that she thrust toward Chiharu. The blade radiated menace like a bitter, killing frost.

Chiharu had also stripped off the mock outer-skirt, but she flinched when Sen drew the sword.

"You have the Doujigiri?!"

"No. This is Suzuka-gozen's blade Jinmei. Evil isn't it?" Sen was turning, trying to detect their adversaries while trying to give Chiharu the blade. "Come on, Haru-chan, take it!"

Reluctant, but practical, Chiharu took the blade. "Evil" was the right word, she thought; this was another demon-slayer like the Kazama sword, and it was determined to be blooded. The second attack came then, in a rush of speed, out of nothing.

Illusions, though Chiharu. To let them acquire weapons and get close. Well, let them! With a snarl, she swung Jinmei in a wide arc, opening a long gash along Masaru's upper left shoulder. She danced out of the way of the next attack, the angry blade humming with purpose, now.

Masaru had howled with pain when Jinmei had hit him, but he flung himself on Chiharu without hesitation, taking a possibly mortal blow across the chest and abdomen in the process. Once again, the blond woman felt the strange, agonizing cold. With horror, she realized that the man had somehow driven a dagger most of the way into her left shoulder, and the wound was hissing and blackening. Blood flowed freely onto her kimono and onto the carpet. Her arm went numb, even as she literally threw her assailant across the room. She focussed on the wound, concentrating all her will on withdrawing the weapon and expelling whatever poison was preventing the gash from closing.

Sen, meanwhile, was barely avoiding Yukishima-sama's physical attacks. On the mental plane, an even fiercer battle was being fought, and Sen was surprised to find that her opponent knew some very, very nasty techniques indeed. She shouldn't have been, but nobody had ever discussed such magic with her before.

You are too young, too inexperienced, too soft… At irregular intervals, a twisted coercive blow would send fire along her nerves.

You are a child and you wield your power like a child. Did you expect to woo me with soft words and pretty phrases? Did you think that I would hand my daughter over to you? Or allow you to dishonour me by stripping me of my rank?

This time, Sen blocked the worst of the pain and lashed out with a taloned, open-handed blow. It connected, but the older woman just laughed.

So pitiful, young one. So slow. The slashing cuts faded in an instant. You thought to set both my daughters against me, didn't you? But you are too late, too weak, too much like your mother.

"It should not be possible for you to attack me," Sen said flatly. "The blood oath prevents it."

"Anything can be achieved with enough will and endurance," Yukishima responded scornfully. "Didn't your mother herself believe that?"

"Yes, but—" Sen's next comment was cut off as the main doors into the room were flung open and six or seven people came racing in.

Sen had hoped for Saitō-san—right now the man's stern practicality and uncanny speed would have been very welcome. Instead, what she saw horrified her, even though she had thought herself beyond further shock.

She recognized the new-comers, at least some of them, as servants of the estate, all part-Oni of varying strength and background. The woman in the lead had just been serving them tea. Now her hair was as white as any demon's, but her eyes were blood red. Worst of all, her features were contorted into a desperate, frightened expression that did not entirely conceal the way that she licked her lips when she caught the sight—or maybe the scent—of Chiharu's bleeding shoulder.

"What took you so long!" Yukishima demanded. "Thanks to your delay, Masaru-sama is badly injured. Quickly now and don't hesitate!"

Chiharu ground her teeth against the brutal pain in her left shoulder, kept Jinmei tightly clasped in her right hand, and backed up until she could touch Sen.

"Osen… -chan…" she gasped. "We need aid. Where is—"

It was as though a dark shadow rippled through the room. The first of the Yukishima rasetsu died instantly, its head cleanly severed from its body. The next one crumpled almost immediately afterward, heart transfixed. The third one died in the midst of opening its—no, his—mouth to scream.

Chiharu almost gagged on the scent of blood and the overwhelming terror of the remaining furies, caught between a vengeful spirit and their mistress' rage. Then the bloodlust finally rose in full, and fear was drowned in a haze of red. Two of them closed in on Chiharu, heedless of the deadly sword in her good hand. The other two attempted to flank her, whether to support the others or to attack Sen was unclear. Both died a moment later.

"You're late," murmured Chiharu, who had managed to injure one opponent but was rapidly weakening. The injury to her shoulder just wasn't normal.

Saitō ignored the remark, and killed the two remaining furies even as Chiharu sank to one knee, upright only because she was leaning against the Okkikurune heirloom blade. Saitō could sense, but not see, that she was trying to lend her dwindling mental strength to her cousin, who was clearly in need of immediate aid.

Incandescent with rage, Yukishima-sama seemed to have Sen wrapped in layers of crackling green and purple fire. Sen was fighting back, but she had already expended a great deal of her personal energy during the first confrontation with the powerful demoness, as well as when she had tried to rouse Yukishima Chikame. For the moment, her defensive barriers were holding, but it was obvious that the older woman had the upper hand.

Saitō closed the distance between them without hesitation, killing intent written plainly on his usually expressionless face. He had been forced to give his Oni self full rein in order to carve a path through the rasetsu who had ambushed him when he first ran into the house. Unlike the pitiful servants within this room, who had been trained to fight but were not skilled warriors, those he had first met had been the core of the Yukishima strength, and at first he had been hard-pressed, though not in danger of his life. It had been Hideo-sama, following closely on Saitō's heels, who had prevented the indigo-haired swordsman from being seriously delayed.

The big Oni had shoved or tossed the Yukishima warriors out of his way with enviable strength, taking advantage of their reluctance to attack their master. This had allowed the Shinsengumi captain to focus on more precise attacks, since he no longer had enemies closing in behind him. At that point, Hideo-sama had startled Saitō with the mental equivalent of a smack on the top of the head.

Stupid boy! You are the only person who can save the Princess right now. The Oni lord can get there in time, but not the human. Which are you? Stop fearing your emotions and use them!

When Saitō had hesitated to give up control—or had not been able to—Hideo-sama had slipped into his mind as easily as he had the first time. With deft skill and neither compunction nor compassion, he had laid bare Saitō's most intimate, vulnerable moments with Chizuru.

I don't care if you hate me; just remember that my wife wants yours dead. Or married to my son. Shall I show you your nightmares?

Manipulated beyond his skill to adjust, Saitō's careful control had wavered and then vanished. The rational part of his mind had understood what the other man was trying to accomplish, which was to drive him to the edge of his current strength by substituting anger-fuelled adrenaline for training. The taint on precious memories was just another price to be paid.

After that, however, he had disregarded personal safety—as he should have from the start, since he was nearly indestructible now—and smashed through the small force of rasetsu, skilled warriors or not. The reception room was already a shambles by the time he arrived. Chiharu-sama was badly injured and Sen-hime appeared to be fighting a losing battle. By that point, he didn't need Hideo-sama's cruel but effective tactics to be fully committed to his Oni inheritance. Just as on the night he had attacked Harada, white-hot rage sang through him, and this time there was no Sen-hime to prevent a killing blow.

Chiharu-sama had clearly performed her duty as Sen-hime's first line of defence, but only pride kept her upright, and she sank to one knee as soon as Saitō killed the last fury. With Saitō's approach, Yukishima-sama changed tactics, her first obvious surprise giving way to rapid calculation. With apparent ease, she hurled Sen-hime through the front window, so that she could block Saitō's first attack, countering immediately with both coercion and knives.

When the coercion barely slowed the unknown Oni lord, and she nearly lost one of her hands to his blazing speed, her expression registered disbelief. Nevertheless, she flipped lightly out of the way, any casual damage from her opponent's katana healing almost instantly.

"Who are you?" she demanded. To her surprise, the more subtle power of Soul drew an answer from Sen-hime's unknown protector even though he had resisted the stronger magic of Mind.

"Sakurai Hajime."

The name startled her, but provided little actual information. On the other hand, the fact that he answered at all suggested that the man's weakness revolved around his intrinsic nature, which was odd, but possibly useful.

Yukishima dodged another attack—barely—but pressed with more questions and clinging wisps of Soul magic.

"The Sakurai died more than two hundred years ago. Why does a Shiranui claim a dead clan?"

"You ignore the obvious, Kiyoko-chan. It is a failing, my dear. He wears the four-pointed crown, so evidently the Sakurai—dead or otherwise—have claimed him."

The deep, incisive voice of Hideo-sama cleared the muffling veils from Saitō's mind—or soul, whatever that was—and he was abruptly aware of two familiar figures standing wide-eyed just outside the broken front window.

"Saitō! What the hell?!" Nagakura might be baffled, but he swung himself with ease through the window, his sword instantly in his hand. His jaw dropped further as he alighted. "Shit, Saitō, those are furies!"

Since he seemed to be looking past Hideo-sama, and the bodies on the floor, Saitō could only assume that the remnants from the earlier fight had regrouped and had been pulled toward the scent of blood.

"Not ours," Saitō informed Nagakura, eyes still locked on his opponent. "Take them if you can."

"Oi! Who died and made you emperor? Ah crap, never mind."

Unable to divert his attention from his opponent, Saitō couldn't understand why Harada wasn't helping out Nagakura. Then he heard Sen-hime's voice ring out in concern:

"Saitō-san! Watch out!"

He immediately dove out of the way, but not fast enough to avoid a shallow cut along his right side. It hurt far more than it should have, and the wound didn't close. Unlike Chiharu, Saitō knew the sensation at once. Silver and Soul magic, fused into a sharp edge. Since he couldn't do anything about it, he ignored it. Apparently, Masaru-sama wasn't dead after all, although for some reason he had reverted to his human form.

"Nice friends you've got, Saitō!" called Nagakura, his face set into the sharp grin that he often wore in battle. "Come on, Sano, don't let Saitō steal all the glory!"

Saitō ignored Nagakura. Hideo-sama was speaking to him—or rather, to Harada.

We need your spear, Harada of the Shinsengumi. Leave the Princess with me. You need to finish Masaru-sama quickly, or he will continue to draw the life from Kazama-sama.

Harada looked at Saitō. The obvious solution was to get Sen-hime away as quickly as possible, and he was tempted to do just that. She had been almost unconscious when he had quite literally caught her when she flew out the window.

"I'll never speak to you again—ever—if you don't take me to Chiharu right now." Sen's voice was a little strained, but she seemed to be in earnest.

Since Saitō was obviously having difficulty fighting two adult Oni at once—even though the male was badly injured—Harada capitulated without further argument. The low windowsill was no obstacle to the agile Tenth Division Captain, even burdened with the Oni princess and his spear. He set the girl down beside the Oni that he had originally taken for Amagiri-san.

Meanwhile, Saitō had seen comprehension on Yukishima-sama's face, and a kind of disgusted horror that he found ironic.

"You're officers of the Shinsengumi? Humans? How dare you enter my home?! How did you even find this place?"

For some reason, Harada felt the need to answer the question, even as he moved swiftly to step between Saitō and the bleeding Masaru-san. He suspected that Saitō's right side hurt, although it wasn't from how the man—Oni—was moving.

"I was called here by Sen-hime. At least, that's what it seemed like."

"And I just followed Sano, ma'am," called out Nagakaru. His blue eyes gleamed, and although his four rasetsu opponents were taxing him, his sword-form was even and deliberate and he appeared to have driven them back from the doorway and into the passage, which would make his job easier.

"How could you sink to this?!" Yukishima cried to Sen. "They are Bakufu loyalists of the very worst kind! You know that our race has nearly been destroyed twice already by ill-considered meddling in human politics!"

"How dare you?!" Sen responded, her voice sounding agonized as well as furious. "How dare you speak to me of what is degrading when you have harmed your own children and created rasetsu! You have given your own dependants over to madness and darkness and now death."

As Harada approached Masaru-san, he sensed a kind of twisting, magical force connecting the badly-injured Oni to… Chiharu-chan? He spared a moment to glance anxiously at the young woman, who appeared to be struggling to remain conscious. Osen-chan was supporting her cousin, her hands pressed tightly against Chiharu-chan's left shoulder.

Saitō and Yukishima-sama were now locked in a silent, deadly battle, as the tall Oni woman sought to force the slight, younger Oni away from the others. As the situation deteriorated, she only seemed to get stronger. Mind you… Harada had never seen Saitō fight like this either. The adversaries fought with weapons, claws, feet—whatever would connect heavily enough to push the other backward and do some damage. Both heads were crowned with gleaming white hair and four curving horns. It felt surreal, and Harada was dimly aware that the battle was being fought on more than one level.

At the door, Shinpachi held fast, tending to his own job. That thought made Harada blink. What was he doing? He seemed to just be standing there, while Masaru-san was once again trying to flank Saitō. The man seemed to be far more mobile than he should be with two ugly sword wounds on him and blood running down his chest. Cursing himself, Harada took two long steps forward so that he was once again between Saitō and the injured Oni.

This time he finally noticed the strange magic when it twisted out toward him. He allowed his eyes to unfocus slightly, saw Masaru-san smile slightly and start to relax. Harada sensed self-satisfaction from the handsome, purple-eyed man, and for a very brief moment was genuinely disoriented: the Oni looked so much like Hijikata-san, but Harada had never seen or imagined such a gloating look on the Vice Commander's face.

With a fierce grin that Shiranui would have recognized, Harada suddenly straightened, launching his spear at Masaru-chan's heart. The Oni was able to twist sideways at the last moment, but he was clearly hampered by his wounds, and the spear caught him hard in the upper shoulder. Almost as though they had rehearsed it, Saitō leaped sideways, driving his right hand into Masaru-san's abdomen. As he folded, Harada's katana swept from it's sheath and severed the Oni's head from his body

Chiharu-sama screamed, but there was no time to understand why, as Yukishima-sama descended on Saitō and Harada with nothing to lose and bound on vengeance. She had underestimated the reflexes of the two Shinsengumi, however; neither of them had spared even a glance at the decapitated body as it had fallen between them. Instead, Harada had darted forward to snatch up his spear, and Saitō had anticipated the clan head's move by dropping to one knee and then bringing his katana around in a powerful two-handed arc designed to cut his adversary open to the spine across the torso.

For all her skill and reflexes, Yukishima-sama was unable to escape, and the blow caught her across the abdomen, gutting her. For a human, the blow would have been instantly fatal; even for a powerful Oni it meant staggering pain and shock. Saitō barely managed to retain a grip on his katana, as the force of the blow twisted his body around, but he didn't dare let go given all the people in the room.

He flung himself forward onto the bloody, half-healed form in front of him mere instants later, and unhesitatingly shortened his grip in order to deliver the fatal blow. Head or heart worked for the furies, and seemed to have worked against this traitor's brother.

"STOP!"

Stop!

The first cry, aloud, from Sen-hime, arrested his motion as though his muscles had suddenly frozen. He remembered Hideo-sama's warning that any oath or promise would reinforce a coercive command.

The second cry, in his mind, was from Hideo-sama, and was almost as effective as the first.

Saitō, don't take this death on yourself.

How can you do this? Despite all the drama and all the death, Saitō needed to know how this previously unknown Oni could consistently overcome his mental defenses.

You bear Kyūju's imprint, which made it easier. But… truthfully, I have been working Soul and Mind magic on you from the moment you arrived. Knowledge of the person, close proximity, promises, trust—each one is a hook for mental infiltration. In your case, if you had been given even a moment to question and resist, it would have failed.

I did not trust you.

No? But remember this, Sakurai Saitō Hajime-sama: if you don't trust anyone, you will become truly paranoid and fall into madness. At some point, you must trust your own judgment, if nobody else's. Excuse me, but it is time to end… this.

The conversation had taken almost no time. Saitō kept his eyes on his prisoner's face, his blade across her throat. Harada stood with the tip of his spear to the woman's forehead.

"Sen-hime, Princess of the Oni, First Lady of Yase and Kyōtō," Hideo said aloud.

"Be brief. Your clan has wrought great evil here." There was no mercy in Sen's voice.

"If you—or Sakurai-sama as your agent—execute Yukishima Kiyoko-sama, then my daughter Chikame will also die. Therefore, I ask you to allow me to take Yukishima-sama's life on my own account. It cannot begin to expiate our guilt in this matter, but it will save my daughter and allow you to meet your promise to her. Let me be your executioner. I am the only person here who can save us all from even greater grief. You see, I love my wife, and the magic cannot trigger for me."

Sen, blood-stained and exhausted, nodded once.

"Very well. I agree to this for many reasons. Let it be done at once. Sakurai-sama will be your guard."

Hideo-sama knelt beside Saitō. He held a simple silver knife in his hands, although it was clear the edge had been tempered with magic.

Yukishima-sama's purple eyes widened when she saw the knife. Then she met her husband's eyes and smiled slightly.

"Together, then, Hideo."

"Always."

Even as Saitō grasped the significance of the words, Yukishima Amagiri Hideo-sama executed his wife with a single slash across her throat that severed through to the spinal column. His pale blue eyes flicked to Saitō.

"Please look after my son, Sakurai-sama."

Quite calmly, he closed his eyes, and a moment later was gone as well.

[END]

A/Note: Thank you for reading. I'm sure there's a way to make the next part more the bar low... ;)

All reviews are much appreciated!