Hijikata couldn't sleep and it wasn't because there was work to be done. At this point there was nothing he could do. Everything was on the ships except the men who would board at dawn, only a few short hours away. Accomodations were already in order for when they arrived in Edo. There were no papers to sign or letters to write. Why bother when the government was simply scrambling to follow the cowards who had fled ahead of the troops?

Maybe it was the Water of Life working its way through his veins, changing him, slowly turning him into a terror of the night. Or it could simply be that his body had become accustomed to his bad sleeping habits.

Finally unable to take staring at the same whorls of wood grain on the ceiling any longer, Hijikata grudgingly rolled out of his futon and walked over to the window.

He had already started to notice the improved senses granted by the Water of Life. Smells were stronger, sounds were sharper, and he was able to see details in the dark he never would have been able to before. Of course it was this same improved vision that gave him piercing headaches when he spent any length of time out in the sun.

Still… even those inconveniences didn't dim his memory of the surge of pure strength he had felt after swallowing the bitter, red liquid. Within moments, he had felt energy rushing through him, making him feel invincible. With his senses heightened, the thrill of fight had grown. Each clash of metal on metal had driven him to crave more. To push harder. And then when he had marked that blonde bastard…

Hijikata shook his head as he leaned against the window frame. He knew that was the Water of Life talking, not him. He had never been like Souji, craving the thrill of a bloody fight, of completely destroying an opponent. Yes, he would do anything to win-anyone doing less didn't value their life enough-but he didn't enjoy it.

The Water of Life had taken his grief over Gen-san's murder and twisted it until it was almost unrecognizable.

His right hand tightened into a fist.

And that lapse in judgement might still cost Yamazaki his life.

Two people. One, a source of wisdom, a listening ear, and more than anything, a dear friend. The other, a faithful and loyal subordinate whom he trusted beyond almost all others. He had failed both of them. Gen-san's death and Yamazaki's injuries were on his head. They may claim to have made their own decisions, but he was the one who put them in their respective situations. If he had called the retreat sooner… or if he hadn't let his emotions get carried away… if… if… if…

"Mmhm… Hijikata-san…"

Chizuru's quiet mumble pulled him out of his morbid thoughts, and he looked over at the young woman sleeping in her own futon on the other side of the room.

"Hijikata-san…" her forehead pinched as her head tossed fitfully on her pillow. "Don't… please, Hijikata-san… don't leave..."

Leaving his spot by the window, he quietly walked over and sat down next to Chizuru.

She could have had any pick of the rooms in the mostly empty fortress, but unlike at the compound, there was more than just the Shinsengumi here. Their own men knew well enough that the-paige-who-was-definitely-not-a-girl, was strictly off limits. But they weren't the only ones here and he had seen the other soldier's reactions to her feminine looks and manners.

It wasn't worth the risk, which was why he had insisted she stay in his room and why she would be sharing his cabin on the voyage to Edo. [1] Rumors were a small price to pay to avoid the alternative.

Still somewhat lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't until his fingers grazed her hair that he realized he had reached out to try to sooth Chizuru. He froze, unsure and slightly confused by his actions.

He had known Chizuru hadn't been sleeping well, but he also hadn't done anything about it. What could he do? What comfort could he give? He was the Demon Vice Commander (literally). He should have done a better job of protecting her from the horrors of war that now haunted her dreams. From what he could piece together from her midnight mumblings she still blamed herself for his decision to drink the Water of Life.

He didn't move until Chizuru let out a small almost-whimper and turned her head, brushing against his hand. Almost as if the touch had been the key to releasing him, he began to gently run his fingers through her hair.

It wasn't often that he saw it down like it was now. By the time he saw her in the morning, it was always up in it's neat ponytail. The one exception had been when the Fury had broken into her room. Of course at the time he had been more focused on the threat to her life, than her hair. That was another night she had spent in his room and under his watchful protection.

As he wove his fingers through the silky strands of her hair, Chizuru seemed to calm. The worry lines disappeared from her forehead and her breathing slowed to that of a deep sleep.

After a few more moments, he pulled his hand away. With Chizuru now sleeping peacefully, he no longer had an excuse to touch her so intimately.

Even so, he didn't get up and return to his own futon. The sky out the window had just begun to lighten with the first hints of dawn. In only a short time they would begin boarding the ship. His own sleep was a foregone conclusion by this point, but he could at least make sure Chizuru's sleep remained undisturbed. He would need her light now, more than ever, as the shadow of defeat loomed over them.

[1] If anyone hasn't read ImpracticalDemon's amazing HijiChi works Twelfth Night and Twelfth Night: First and Last, they are a definite must read. They are the source of the headcanon that Hijikata and Chizuru shared a cabin on the voyage to Edo.