Memories of a Sword

Prompt: Memories

Ship: SaiChi

Saito still allowed to carry his sword. He's cleaning it and remembering how it got every nick and scratch. The sword carried the memories of his friends. Chizuru looks at him with soft eyes and in them he sees the same memories. There was someone else to remember their story. The patter of running feet also told him that their story wouldn't be forgotten with them. His children would hear the stories of the great men they had lived and fought alongside.

Saito knelt on the tatami, the weight and feel of the sword in his hand as familiar as the scent of the oil he was using to clean it. He had always been diligent in the maintenance of his weapons. It was a tool and a tool could not do its job properly if it was not kept in peak condition. Now though, there was another reason for his diligence.

The world had changed with the ending of the war. The samurai were gone and the weapon he held in his hand was now illegal to carry… but not for him.

It had been one of his conditions for taking the post. If he was going to serve the people and the new government, then he would do it with his sword in his hand. Not because he was trying to pretend things hadn't changed. He was too much of a pragmatist for that. The world had changed, but when he carried his sword, he felt the presence of the men he had served with those long years ago.

While it might not be the same sword, it kept their memories and spirits alive. It was Souji who guarded his back from assassins in the night. It was Harada, Nagakura, and Heisuke who laughed and joked at his back while on patrol. It was Yamazaki by his side in the moonlit watchful moments. It was Kondou's firm, but kind leadership. And in each and every meeting, it was Hijikata and Sanan who sat by his side, their minds and remarks just as sharp as they had been in life.

He was determined that his sword would shine just as brightly as their lives had, in honor of the sacrifices they had made for what they believed was right.

A soft call of "Hajime?" pulled him from the still tender memories of the past and in the distance, he could hear the muffled giggling of his children. The sword was also the kind, nurturing voice of Gen as he instructed his children.

"Ah"

Even after all these years, the sound of her voice saying his name was the sweetest sound.

Chizuru poked her head into the room, her smile soft and kind. She knew what these moments cleaning his sword meant to him, because she bore the memories with him. Maybe not as many, but she treasured them just as much as he did. They had been her comrades, her friends…. Her family, just as much as they had been his.

"Hajime, your children want a story."

Carefully, Saito set down his blade as he rose with a silent nod.

The memories he and Chizuru carried wouldn't be lost. They would be carried on by his children and, he hoped, his children's children.

They were too young yet for more than a humorous tale of the cat that stole the fish, or why not to play with your food while Hijikata was near, but eventually they would hear more.

Eventually he would tell them of the man who had guarded his back and had fought on even when his body couldn't. He would tell them of the courage of the trio who had never lost their love of life, no matter what it threw at them. He would tell them the true story of the men who had been his brothers.

But for tonight, the cat and the fish would do.