Author's Note:

FIRST: I'd like to strongly recommend an excellent story by Eliza1369 here on FF called An Unearned Gift. (Link is: s/12320198/1/An-Unearned-Gift) This is a modern AU featuring the Shinsengumi as police investigators and Chizuru as a young and gifted new hire/case consultant. Pairing is OkiChi for you Okita fans out there, but everyone is well-represented. :)

A long-awaited (and perhaps long-overdue) conversation. It may be a while before they can discuss Kenshin, but we'll see.

And the Shinsengumi prepare for battle. Unlike in canon (and in history), Heisuke and Okita are no longer wounded following the events at the Ikedaya (or only slightly wounded), thanks to Chizuru. On the other hand, Kazama Chikage is entering the conflict far angrier than before and without Amagiri's restraining influence. How well will Amagiri's brother Hideaki manage? Well, that's for next time. For today, enjoy some angst with Amagiri and Chikame/Kameko, and some warm and fuzzy moments with the Shinsengumi! (Which is an interesting concept in itself.)

~ImpracticalOni

Chapter 78—Healing, Part II

[I] - Old Wounds

Amagiri sat across from Kimigiku in the room that she was evidently using as an office. Eventually, Kimigiku sighed and opened the conversation.

"You have come about Chikame."

"Yes." Amagiri didn't add that both Saitō and Sen had pushed him to do so, each in their own way.

"She's conscious again. I'm glad that Akane-san is here. It gives my sister somebody familiar to hold onto." The pain and reproach in the last sentence was palpable, and Amagiri winced, although he recognized that Kimigiku was allocating a great deal of the blame for Chikame's condition to herself.

"Did you speak with her?"

"Yes. My mother had resurrected the old idea of marrying her heir to Yukimura Kodo-san. Poor Chizuru-chan. Her so-called father is a rogue through-and-through, I suspect. In any event, my sister lived in dread of being compelled to marry him. Apparently he was at the house from time-to-time, though not often. Do you know who he—Yukimura-san—was most afraid of being seen or caught by?"

"Okikurune Satoshi-sama?"

"As sharp as ever, Amagiri. Yes. He didn't want to chance a conversation with Satoshi-sama. The man's a philanderer and a drinker, but brilliant nonetheless. He also has a decent information network, I suspect."

"So Chikame was being threatened with a marriage to Yukimura Kodo-san. I surmise that her refusal is what led to the deepening mind-control and being locked up with your uncle's family—with Akane-san and the children."

"Yes… I think so. Keeping me on track, Amagiri?"

Kimigiku sounded more tired than irritated.

"I think that you have had an extraordinarily difficult day."

The new Head of the Yukishima Clan stared across at her guest.

"You sound as though it matters to you."

Amagiri's face showed a flicker of irritation. "I thought that we were going to try to put some of the old grievances behind us… Or has seeing your sister changed your mind? What shall I call you? Kimiko? Kimigiku-san? Yukishima-sama?"

"… Sumimasen. You are correct—that we'd agreed to do better than this. Kimiko, then. I may as well get used to the name again."

Amagiri managed a faint smile. "Of course, I doubt I'll keep my clan name for long. A strange reversal for us, Kimiko."

Kimigiku looked confused for just an instant and then comprehension dawned. "You mean because Kazama has exiled you from the Western Clans?"

"Indeed."

"Yes, I'd say you're right, knowing your father."

"It may be for the best. A new beginning…"

Kimigiku gave a mirthless laugh: "This, from the greatest traditionalist I've ever known!"

Amagiri raised an eyebrow. "You think me incapable of starting over?"

"Īe. I was just voicing my feeling that the world must truly be changing."

"Well, my grandmother was from the Yukimura clan. Perhaps I can adopt her name. After all, there were once many branches."

"It could become very confusing, don't you think? Although I suppose that your family would be the red-headed branch."

They sat in silence for some moments, since their conversation had, in a sense, come around full circle.

"I will see if Kameko is able to see you," Kimigiku said at last. "And… I know that she would prefer to use her old name. The last ten years have held little but grief and fear for her."

Amagiri nodded, his face carefully neutral.

Kimigiku didn't return for some time, but that was to be expected. In fact, Amagiri had little expectation of seeing his former lover. She was frail both physically and mentally, from what he had been told, and it had been a day of shocks. At the same time, he wasn't wholly surprised when Kimigiku slid open the door and indicated that he should accompany her.

"She said that she'd like to see you again," Kimigiku said, as they went down the hall to a guest room. "But in all honesty, after her first reaction—she cried—I was unable to tell how she actually felt. I must warn you, though: she isn't quite the same as she was… before."

Amagiri said nothing. He was even more apprehensive than he had expected, and he had never expected an easy meeting. Kimigiku called out a quiet request to enter, and then ushered Amagiri into the room. With a last, unreadable look at Amagiri, she closed the door behind him, and went back to her "office", although she didn't expect to get much work done.

Chikame—Kameko—was not sitting up in bed, as Amagiri had expected. Instead, she was standing by the open window, and it was evident that part of the time Kimigiku had been gone had been spent in helping her sister to dress, although her long black hair was simply pinned back over her ears and hanging down her back. The room had a sunset look about it, between the not-quite-twilight outside and the lantern that had been lit in the far corner of the room. Even in such deceptive lighting, however, Kameko's face had a gaunt, haunted look, and Amagiri discovered that seeing her so obviously unwell still had the power to wound him. She seemed to be terribly thin, both physically and in her ki—her presence was somehow ghostly and not at all as he remembered it. She had always been a bright, open flame; he remembered how much she had struggled to learn how to hide her presence, even though it was a required skill for the Yukishima shinobi.

He bowed and waited for her to speak first, suddenly unsure of his footing. Eleven years had passed since they had last held each other; over ten since Kenshin had been born. He had avoided seeing her during those ten years, even though there had been letters, in the beginning, smuggled to him by various means, pleading for his understanding, begging him to send words of reassurance. He never had, of course. Now—far, far too late—he was reviewing his actions in the light of new information and more mature compassion.

At last, the figure by the window stirred slightly, and indicated that he should sit. Kameko knelt gracefully, showing no indication of physical pain.

"I wasn't sure if I could bear to see you," she said in a low, brittle voice. "But I find that I am not frightened of you, nor do I hate you."

Amagiri bowed again and then knelt facing her. He frowned at her words.

"Why would you be frightened?" he asked. Then, before she could reply: "No, wait, those should not be my first words to you after so long." Once she inclined her head, he continued: "I can understand why you might hate me. There is much grief between us. I came because I wanted to see if it were possible to put some of the anger, at least, to rest. I have changed a little, I think, and I know things now that I didn't believe before. But even without that… I have discovered that I do not need to be angry. So, now that everything has changed—for both of us—I've come to apologize in the hope that you will learn not to be angry with me."

Up until the last sentence, Kameko had appeared to listen politely, but without any great interest. At the end, however, her purple eyes had flown up to Amagiri's face. Her expression and voice reflected disbelief and a hint of mockery that rapidly rose to venomous sarcasm.

"You have come to apologize? You? Are you really Amagiri Kyūju or some impostor? Because Amagiri Kyūju-sama once told me that no forgiveness could ever be contemplated for crimes as grave as mine. Have you forgotten that I broke my word—which an Oni should never do—and conceived a child against your wishes? Doomed him, doomed you, damned myself? Have you forgotten? Because I haven't!"

Unnerved by the unrestrained emotion in Kameko's face and voice, Amagiri found it difficult to remain even outwardly composed. The woman he had loved—had believed loved him—would never have stooped to such a display. Yukishima Kameko, as he had known her, had been proudly self-reliant, willing to share joy but rarely speaking of grief—not until the end, when she had tried in vain to explain what had driven her to wanting a child in order to compel a marriage against her family's wishes. He had apologized—he had intended to apologize—knowing that she might not accept the apology, but not expecting to be reviled for daring to offer it.

A moment later, there was a murmur of voices not far from the door—Kimigiku and Satoshi-sama, he thought—but instead of coming in to look after the distraught woman, which would have been a relief, they evidently turned away and left again. The part of Amagiri's mind that had learned to operate independent of unpleasant circumstances—the part that had advised Kazama-sama for so long—suggested to him that Satoshi-sama had told Kimigiku to stay out of it.

He closed his eyes and considered his options. He had come to apologize. Even though a part of him was still angry—or at least still believed there was cause for anger. Was he going to give up so easily? He reminded himself that he had gotten to see their son relatively often; Kameko hadn't seen Kenshin since he was six weeks old. What punishment could be worse than that? She had then suffered his rejection, the loss of her sister's company and consolation, and eventually whatever evil her mother and uncle had inflicted on her. Surely that was enough for somebody—no, for him—to weather the storm that must now exist within her?

He forced his eyes open, gritting his teeth. After all, what was there left of his pride now anyway? Sen-hime had saved his life, not his honour. Amagiri breathed in sharply and shook his head to dislodge such useless, self-pitying thoughts. He studied Kameko's face, noting that although there was feverish colour on her cheeks, there were also tears, and her hands trembled within her silk sleeves. Slowly—hopefully not too slowly—he gathered himself together and resolved to try again.

"I apologize for my harsh words at the time of our parting," he told her, bowing low. It stung his pride—a man should not have to behave this way with a woman. However, he was committed to this path, and he felt that Saitō would expect him to do his best, not just what he was most comfortable with—after all, Amagiri had insisted on the best from Saitō. "I apologize for thinking that you were wholly in the wrong. I apologize for not properly considering how bad your circumstances must have been for you to choose such a course of action. I apologize for choosing to believe others over you, especially when you should have been the person I respected above all others. I cannot change the way I behaved eleven years ago, but I can try to atone for it now as well as circumstances allow me."

There was silence when he was done, but he kept his head lowered. If he had managed to surprise her out of even a small part of her almost hysterical anger—and grief—then that was something. Eventually, Kameko responded to his words—although in a somewhat circuitous way.

"Kyūju?" Her voice was quiet again, if a little blurred at the edges with tears. "What happened to your hand?"

That brought his head up. It hadn't occurred to him that she might not know what had happened, and the missing hand had been obvious when he had made his formal bow. In fact, his arm ached now, as he had taken it from the strap that had bound it to his lower chest. Off-balance—again—he answered the question more bluntly than he otherwise might have done.

"Kazama Chikage-sama cut it off as punishment for my betrayal in keeping his promised wife from him. I thought you knew."

Kameko shook her head, eyes wide. Once again, it was disconcerting to see the once-proud daughter of the Yukishima so emotional—frightened, even. But as he watched, Amagiri saw her begin to gather some remnants of dignity about her. In fact, he had the impression that she was very slowly improving overall, although he couldn't fathom why. The conversation was hardly a cheerful one.

"My sister told me only that Chikage-sama had exiled you. It seemed so very… unlikely… that I don't think I really processed it. There has been a great deal to think about and Kimiko has been very busy."

The thought of two dozen deaths, including mother, father and uncle, hung unspoken between them. Because Kameko's thoughts and emotions were so poorly shielded, Amagiri couldn't help but notice that very little of her grief was for her immediate family. In fact, when it came to her mother and uncle, all he sensed was a hesitant sense of relief. Her feelings about her father were extremely complicated, but mostly focused on the fact that Hideo-sama had loved her mother too much. The whole—the extent and depth of the pain—was beyond him to deal with at present, although perhaps it was only fair that he should try, eventually. He searched for something to say and struggled to find something moderately safe.

"It is correct that I have been exiled—from the Western Clans as a whole." There. Hopefully it was safer to talk about his own hurts than to risk mentioning hers.

"I can't even remember who—oh."

Amagiri cursed himself—he had been completely wrong. His own situation was full of pitfalls. Kameko had just remembered that the exile related to Kazama-sama's betrothal to Yukimura Chizuru-sama. If Yukimura-sama hadn't been declared dead—if she had married Kazama-sama—then Kameko might have been allowed to marry Amagiri. Knowing as much as he did now, Amagiri wasn't convinced that would have been the case. But what would Kameko think?

"He was supposed to marry Yukimura Chizuru-sama, wasn't he?"

"Yes." Amagiri watched her tensely, but she didn't grow agitated. Rather, she seemed to be trying to remember why Kazama-sama would be so angry now.

It was oddly painful watching her trying to cobble together information that should have been easy for her to retrieve. Why did it bother him so much? It was something more than the basic pity—and perhaps guilt—that he had expected to feel.

It took longer than it should have to recognize that he was worried about her. It was a strange sensation. It hadn't occurred to him—despite all of his lectures to Saitō!—that there was any kind of bond left between them. He had thought that their relationship had shattered irrevocably with Kameko's betrayal—a lie so profound that he had yet to fully process its effects. Moreover, there had been at least as much grief on her part as on his, and no reason for her not to find another partner. In fact, he now had a far better measure of the depths of her despair, and she had been forced to endure terrible words from him… as she had already pointed out. He hadn't been gentle—he had been half-insane with grief and genuinely afraid for both of their lives.

Amagiri felt his lips quirk into the slightest of smiles. Out of nowhere, he suddenly had an image of how Saitō and Hijikata-san would react to his declaration that his bond to Kameko had dissolved eleven years earlier. Saitō would ask him why it was difficult to be around a newly wedded pair if the bond had disappeared. His tone would suggest that Amagiri needed to rethink his position. Hijikata would be far more direct, and probably rude, along the lines of: "You want to run that by me again, Amagiri-san? 'Cause I think it's bullshit, but maybe it'll sound better the second time around." Somehow, Hijikata-san would make Amagiri's name sound like "idiot", which seemed to be a favourite word of his.

"Kyūju?"

It was still so very, very strange to hear her voice, especially when he had worked so hard to drive it out of his head.

"Excuse me. I was thinking of Yukimura-sama's husband and his commanding officer. They have both had to listen to my advice recently, but I am forced to acknowledge that they have each made their own points as well."

Kameko was understandably startled. And yet… and yet once again he thought that there was more behind her eyes now than there had been when he'd first seen her. More than just pain, fear and anger, at least.

"So Yukimura-sama… is alive? And married?" Once again, the purple eyes seemed to look inward, seeking information long-forgotten or put aside. "But… she would be very young still, would she not? Although I suppose that sixteen or seventeen is not too young to choose a mate."

It was a challenge, of course.

"I agree," responded Amagiri. "But she chose a human—a part-Oni. Did Kimi—Kimiko explain that to you?"

Again the pause. This time the response was faster.

"Yes… Except that she said he is an Oni now? Like out of the stories of the Okikurune? Mother said—"

Suddenly Kameko's face contorted, and her hands flew upward to scratch at her face, leaving red marks that healed more slowly than they should have. Amagiri reached out without thinking, swifter and surer with his left hand than most would be with their right. His hand was easily large enough to grasp both of hers and hold them immobile.

Kameko! Stop this!

There was no response, verbally or mentally. In fact, it was almost as if the woman in front of him wasn't there at all. Amagiri had never seen an Oni—or anyone else—disappear so effectively. He shut off his own panic with the ease of long practice and a disciplined mind, and waited, loath to take any action that might make things worse. Time passed—at least five minutes—and then he sensed the first tentative flicker of awareness from Kameko. Amagiri continued to hold her wrists in his one hand, easily resisting Kameko's attempts to scratch at her face, but otherwise sitting perfectly still in both body and mind. More time passed, and then the hands trapped within his stopped moving.

"Kameko?"

"Yes." It was a whisper, a thread of a voice, but fully aware.

Amagiri immediately sat back again and replaced his hand on his thigh. The pain in his chest and injured arm made itself known again, and was both acknowledged and dismissed. While Kazama's punishment had been harsh, there had still been some reason in it. Whatever had happened to Kameko conjured up a gut-wrenching loathing in him that he couldn't explain, since he didn't even know what it was.

"How can I help?"

Purple eyes in a white face, and then the ghost of a smile.

"This… does not seem very real to me, Kyūju. You swore that you would never speak to me again. And now you're here telling me of stories come true." She swallowed and a hint of colour returned to her cheeks. "You see, I have always known that it had to be you. My mother"—she gave a convulsive shudder, but then continued on steadily—"believed in the old stories, you know. That among the Oni, a strong connection with a mate will strengthen both and, if there are children, result in stronger children. Unfortunately, she didn't believe me when I told her that I'd already… chosen and been chosen."

Amagiri stared at Kameko speechlessly, all of his ingrained prejudices and old hurts colliding head-on with the undeniable evidence of the past week—gods… had it only been a week? He recollected himself almost at once, although he truly had no idea what expression he wore on his face. Kameko said nothing else; she seemed to be waiting patiently for him to—what? He had apologized, he had allowed her back into his life—arrogant words, but the old feelings ran deep—now what?

Finally, he gave up and simply asked again: "How can I help?"

Kameko looked down and sighed, but she met his eyes again not long afterward.

"The Western Oni were always stubborn and hopelessly chained to the past—but the wrong past."

Amagiri surprised himself by smiling a little at that. "The women of the Eastern Clans are famous for their strong wills and unguarded tongues."

"Ha. As if I didn't know that the actual saying is much worse, in keeping with your views on meek women."

"Hardly mine," retorted Amagiri dryly. "I came to Kyoto at Sen-hime's bidding, and with all sincere respect, the Princess is not a meek woman. Since then I have spent a great deal of time with Sen-hime, your sister, Chiharu-sama and Yukimura-sama. I have a great deal of admiration for each of them, I assure you."

"It's still very strange to me… that Kazama-sama's sister is here, that you are on speaking terms—if nothing else!—with Onee-chan, and that Yukimura-sama is a real person and not just some little girl unfortunate enough to be bound to Kazama Chikage-sama."

"You are too harsh. It is understandable, but not helpful."

"I am not entirely myself; in any event, it is beyond me right now to be careful with my words." Kameko's voice was flat, all humour fled.

Amagiri eyed her uncertainly, once again feeling out of his depth.

"Would you prefer me to leave? I was worried that I had intruded too soon—"

"Gods you're dense!" Kameko's expression was a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, even hope (although Amagiri regarded the latter very warily).

"No, I am not dense," Amagiri retorted, "but there is hardly a precedent for the situation in which we find ourselves. I take it that you do not wish me to leave. Then I suggest that you tell me how I can help you."

Kameko seemed to grit her teeth, but then she nodded. "That is very like you, Kyūju. Very well… Would you tell me about—about Yukimura Chizuru-sama and her husband, the human who is now an Oni? I am not so far gone, nor so insensible to your feelings—though you may choose not to believe it!—that I can miss the fact that you feel a strong affection for them, especially the man. Since that is very unlike you, I am curious. Will you describe them to me? Do you know the details of their courtship? I think—I have the strong impression—that they love each other a great deal."

Amagiri hesitated, because her voice was very quiet again, and the topic seemed dangerous to him. He reminded himself once more that he had never expected this conversation to be comfortable: better to allow her to choose her own way, after so long in confinement, than to offer her a choice and then refuse to honour her decision. Being a practical man, he tucked his injured arm into its sling without fuss, warned Kameko that he would stop if she appeared to be tiring, and began his tale, beginning with his first glimpse of Saitō at the Ikedaya.

[II] - Dinner Plans

Chizuru had been alternately excited and worried about going to the meeting hall for dinner with Saitō. Fortunately, it had turned out to be far less of an ordeal than she'd expected. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, which was very pleasant, even though a number of the comments made her blush; she didn't quite hear the remark—from Hijikata-san of all people!—that made Saitō's ears turn red and Okita-san laugh out loud, but her husband clearly didn't want her to pursue the matter. Since she had forgotten to ask Hijikata-san about it earlier, she was still dressed as a boy, although she had avoided wearing Saitō's old clothes. Saitō had silently approved her decision, and had made sure to kiss her before they left, probably to reassure her that all was well.

"Shouldn't Chizuru-chan be allowed to dress like a girl now?" Heisuke demanded, shortly after she and Saitō arrived and took their places, Saitō beside Okita-san as usual, with Chizuru on his left.

Kondō-san looked as though the suggestion made sense to him, but Hijikata-san and Sannan-san both frowned. To Chizuru's surprise, however, it was Saitō who answered the question.

"Unless the Commander prefers it otherwise," he stated, in his usual, level tones, "I believe it would be best for things to remain as they are. Boys' clothing may be less proper, in some respects, but it will be more practical in others. First, it makes Chizuru stand out less within the compound, whether to our own men, or to unexpected visitors, or to enemies. Second, it is more practical for the work she will be undertaking with both her garden and with Yamazaki."

Chizuru was a little surprised, since Saitō hadn't mentioned these things specifically to her, but she came to the conclusion that he had probably either assumed that she understood, or had been formulating his words on the way to dinner. Either was possible. She contented herself with letting him know that his reasoning made sense to her and surreptitiously trying to give him the best of her food. She thought that she had succeeded in the latter endeavour until she heard a smothered laugh from Okita-san and looked up to find him clearly enjoying the sight of Saitō carefully putting all of the "gift" food to one side with the obvious intention of returning it once Chizuru had finished what was still in front of her. Since the green eyes seemed far less malicious than they had been of late, and Okita-san truly seemed to be trying not to laugh out loud, she gave him a shy, embarrassed smile and returned to her dinner hoping that whatever had been upsetting him lately had improved.

"Can you tell me about the swords, Hajime-kun?" Okita asked, once the conversation had turned away from Saitō and Chizuru's rather hasty wedding.

"Of course," replied Saitō immediately, putting down his chopsticks and turning slightly toward the other man. "Although it would be better for you to actually see them. Maybe later this evening—or in the morning with better light."

After that, the conversation became technical, and Chizuru was delighted to see Saitō get so involved in a discussion of the current fitness of the troops, and similar matters, that he started eating the food that he had so meticulously set aside. She knew that Okita-san noticed as well, but he didn't mention it until the very end when apparently his good intentions for the evening finally failed him.

"I didn't realize you usually ate so much, Hajime-kun," Okita said in tones of mock surprise, as the last of the vegetables disappeared. "I would have expected it to be Chizuru-chan who was eating for two, not you…"

Saitō immediately reddened—more over having eaten her food, Chizuru thought—and Chizuru was reasonably sure that she saw Hijikata-san's lips twitch in amusement, although he was supposedly listening to either Sannan-san or Kondō-san. To her own surprise, and Okita-san's, Chizuru managed not to blush, and even replied to the comment with reasonable composure: "It is kind of you to be concerned, Okita-san. If it turns out later that I am with child, I will come to you for advice."

Both men turned stunned gazes on her, and although she tried to meet their eyes complacently, a giggled escaped her lips and then she did blush and look down. She would have to explain to Saitō later that Osen-chan had made her repeat the words until she could say them with a straight face. As busy and worried as she was, her cousin had been determined that Chizuru should be at least partly armed against the likely jibes of the Shinsengumi captains.

At the conclusion of dinner, Kondō-san had sake brought in to celebrate the health of the bride and groom.

"We'll have a proper celebration later," he said seriously, after saying such kind things that Chizuru had ducked her head to conceal tears of emotion, "but for tonight, please keep in mind that we will likely be called into action tomorrow by the Aizu Military Commander. Reports of unusual activity have been confirmed, so there will be no regular patrols after tonight. Instead, everyone is to have their squads prepared to move out immediately upon my orders. Is that clear?"

"Hai!" came back the response from the captains.

[III] - A Quiet Evening at Home

Late that evening, after reviewing and organizing their divisions, Sōji and Saitō sat examining the Sakurai swords by lantern light. For once, there was no edge, not even envy—or no more than was inevitable, given the objects under scrutiny. The room was much less stark than it had ever been before, and smelled faintly of lavender and other dried plants.

Chizuru couldn't help a feeling of deep content, as she sat nearby, ostensibly sewing. Periodically, one of the other captains would come by to say hello, or to look over Saitō's acquisitions. Heisuke-kun and Nagakura-san were especially interested, but Harada-san spent most of his short visit leaning in the open doorway near Chizuru watching his friends turn the blades back and forth in the yellowy light. Chizuru thought that the tall red-head seemed more settled that he had been since the events at the Ikedaya, and wondered if her cousin was similarly pleased that evening.

Finally, Okita-san left, with a laughing pat on Saitō's shoulder and a mischievous wink for Chizuru. Saitō put the precious swords back onto the rack, which before this had usually stood empty since he almost always kept his own swords with him. Then he turned and gathered his wife into his arms.

"You asked me earlier… about being here. I am so very glad to have you with me, Chizuru."

[END]

A/Note: Thank you for reading! Up next: The Storm, Part II.

Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited! Please leave a review if you have a few minutes (your words are the best encouragement I could have).

~ImpracticalOni