Greetings, dear readers! This chapter delves further into Okita's personal issues. Peripeteia of justice, the pack's adventures and progressing Okita-Kazama antipathy included. As always, thanks to my wonderful beta reader - ImpracticalDemon.
Chapter X. Carnival justice.
"I saw your last show and, man, it was remarkable," Kazama-kun says with a drawl. We were sitting in the cell after 'dinner'. "A bit rough but still… I bet the girl wrote her parts herself." I nod my agreement. "I see. She knows when to hide herself and she knows when to shine. A perfect trait for a woman." His face assumes a complacent expression, resembling a desirous collector contemplating an exhibition.
Kazama-kun continues to blabber about the mix of modesty and sincerity, but his words irritate me. I've never thought all those pompous things about Chizuru. In fact, it wasn't that long ago when I considered her a useless distraction. It's odd to see an outsider regarding her as a woman.
"Your producer has made the whole city discuss the Shinsengumi," Kazama-kun says. "I wonder who's his PR manager. Your band is a white elephant in itself, but he still manages to make something of you." Does he have a slight trait of mockery about his tone? There seems to be disdain in his eyes, overlaid with an air of courtesy.
"What do you mean?" He saved my ass yesterday, but what the fuck is he up to now? His droning voice is starting to get on my nerves.
"Easy, pal…" Kazama-kun smirks. "Have you seen many underground bands with" he pauses for a bit, "six members? Plus a manager. I attended college with him, by the way." Oh man, what sort of college was that? "And it's not that you play fucking klezmer or anything. The underground bands tend to have two or three members."
"Yeah? That's an apt observation. You're not bad at counting. But it works for us." I'm perfectly aware that we are a large band and we have a questionable financial situation, but this is Hijikata-san's headache, not mine.
"Guys surely make it work, huh?" Shiranui-kun grins. "Your vocalist is just something."
"Shiranui is in awe of your Harada," snickers Kazama-kun. The fundies twitch at the sound of his laughter. A moment of startled silence passes and the buzzing from their corner breaks out again. A dangerous fold crosses Shiranui-kun's forehead. "He was fucking ecstatic seeing Harada stab himself…" The way the prick curses here and there betrays that he was a well-bred boy until he reached his rebellious age. It's a bit forced. God, he's so funny.
"I like crazy people," admits Shiranui-kun, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
The Onis' inner dynamic is strange. Kazama-kun clearly tries to boss everyone around while Shiranui-kun tries to resist and joke back. I also try to oppose Hijikata-san when he mistakes himself for Alexander the Great, but hell, this is so different. Besides, the way he goes on about our little fiddler unnerves me.
"Yukimura-san is really a treasure," Kazama-kun continues, reflecting my thoughts. "I do wonder how you managed to convince her to join. What could you really offer her? In fact, she's from a good family and certain circles do not approve this sort of occupation." I like neither his words about 'certain circles' (I spit on whatever circles), nor his attitude towards Chizuru. Meanwhile, he adds something about her manners and a passionate fiddling style. I'm ready to forget how he knocked down the fundies' leader yesterday. It must have been torture for Hijikata-san to study with the jerk.
"Easy, Kazama," grins Shiranui-kun. "I'm sensing murderous intent from over here. You're not Yukimura's boyfriend yet." Shiranui-kun has unexpectedly caught me off-guard. I guess I've become too soft lately. Too easy to read.
"Okita-kun is not her boyfriend either," retorts Kazama-kun.
"For a person who's only seen her once, you sure know a lot about Chizuru-chan." I turn away from them making it clear that I'm not interested in a further discussion. I'm aware of Chizuru's family problems, but I've never considered them to be that serious. Suddenly the situation is somewhat different. Chizuru is strange to all those contented bastards just because she wants to make her own choices. In some ways, she struggles more than I thought, I'll give her that. And my sitting in jail doesn't help her at all.
The question is what Kazama himself is trying to achieve by playing in an underground band. He's too refined and sissy for it. Probably his own circles don't accept him.
It's been two days since this shit began and I'm already tired of having people around. Melodies keep whirling in my head, unable to break outside. I'll probably forget them all by the time they release me.
...
To put it mildly, Chizuru didn't like to stay alone in the mansion. Nighttime was the worst for her, but she was adamant about staying put and waiting for Okita's return. During the day, she was busy with her work. Even if there was no rehearsal planned, some of the pack members were always present. Saitou-san and Heisuke-kun kept her company more than anyone else.
Chizuru was in no mood to seek for leisure activities outside the base. Living in the Slums had another trait she had been previously unaware of. The majority of the inhabitants spent their free time at home. Getting to the Big City just to stroll the streets of the historical center or visit a coffee shop was out of the question. Too long, too disappointing, too dangerous at times.
To keep the band together, Hijikata-san had composed a denser schedule. Chizuru was only too pleased to be busy. She always tried to cheer everyone up to cover her own dark mood, which she believed to be completely unnoticeable. In an attempt to dig up information about Okita's condition and the public attitude to the latest events, Chizuru spent much time surfing the net. Gradually, curiosity had led her to the fan sites.
"As far as I know, Harada-san is the most popular member, for obvious reasons," Chizuru said, sharing her findings with the pack after rehearsal had finished. "Saitou-san is pretty popular too, he's so enigmatic and cold-blooded." Saitou-san frowned in his corner. Chizuru smirked. "And then there's a small but proud squad of Okita-san's fangirls…"
"They must be masochists!" said Heisuke-kun, much to Chizuru's embarrassment. "No one treats the fans worse than Souji."
"What's so bad about him?" asked Chizuru. It wasn't clear for her whether it was a rhetorical question.
"Nothing," answered Heisuke-kun, packing his bass. "He just ignores them most of the time. Don't know how he managed it with Sannan-san back then when there were only two of them."
"They had a specific image, pal," said Sano-san. "Goth's undead and so on. Honestly, I had no idea that there are ratings of our personal popularity. I've never dug that deep into the fandom. We've always been busy with something else."
"That's not the end of it!" Chizuru raised an index finger. Everyone turned their faces to her. "Sano-san is lucky, cause he's just Sano-san. But there are also Haji-kun and Sou-chan. Sorry, Saitou-san!"
The pack broke into laughter.
"Sou-chan never visits fan pages," said Saitou-san, slightly red. "He has good reasons."
"Well, if we go on like this, my own reputation will hit rock bottom." Chizuru smiled sourly. She had discovered that fangirls didn't like her much. The popular opinion considered her the reason for the band's current problems. It was more than unfair, but Chizuru couldn't chase windmills. Her appearance and her possible relations with the band members had become a topic for discussion. Somehow her co-living with Okita was still undisclosed. At least, it would be until someone encountered them in the Slums' Market. The whereabouts of the headquarters were not a secret, but nobody had bothered them since audition day. Chizuru praised Hijikata-san's wish to stick the band deep into the Slums where no civilized soul would wander around.
"You'll find good company there." Shinpachi-san winked to her. "Me and the kid are not that popular either." He placed a hand on Heisuke-kun's shoulder. Shinpachi-san liked to joke about him remaining single and Sano-san getting the ladies. However, the whole Underground knew Shinpachi-san and, apparently, he was not deprived of female attention.
The band collected their belongings and proceeded to the kitchen. Earlier that day Chizuru had teamed up with Saitou-san to prepare a mountain of food for everyone. It was completely new to her to find pleasure in showing hospitality. She was grateful to Saitou-san, who had clearly tried to overcome his reticence in order to keep her company. It started the day after Okita had been gone. That morning Saitou-san found Chizuru sitting over a cup of cold coffee, her thoughts going in circles. She prepared coffee again and for the first very long hour they were just sitting in silence, exchanging rare words. Chizuru didn't know how to handle Okita's best friend, she was no less shy than Saitou-san himself. Gradually they found an obvious common topic and spent several hours discussing the forthcoming album. Saitou-san explained Hijikata-san's latest concept - something that Okita had avoided doing - and filled her in.
"...It's a difficult decision and I want to hear your opinion." Chizuru's memories were interrupted by Hijikata-san's strict voice. She blinked and stared at him.
"Chizuru-chan, no time to sleep!" he exclaimed. Chizuru mumbled an apology.
It turned out that a local TV channel had invited the band to the primetime talkshow. It was a chance to make an official announcement about their viewpoint as well as Okita's condition. Hijikata-san was adamant that Okita needed their support, but he refused to reveal the details.
"If we agree to take part in this fucking circus, we'll make fools of ourselves. You can imagine what it would be like: whining fundies, officials, irate citizens everywhere." The pack agreed. Hijikata-san continued. "If we refuse, we may lose the chance to make Souji's life a bit easier. We have enough traffic on the main sources, but it's still incomparable to TV. Local news keeps going about youth corruption all the time."
"We don't have to go in full pack, do we?" Chizuru asked. She was ready to be the focus of public attention, for Okita's sake, but the prospect was unpleasant nonetheless.
"Two or three members are enough. It's not an easy choice either. Heisuke and Sano are too sensitive for it, Shinpachi may be hard to control if someone messes with us, Chizuru-chan's position is too vulnerable, Saitou is too taciturn and me…"
"You may just kill them all in the studio, Hijikata-san," noted Shinpachi-san.
"It's called short-tempered," Sano-san suggested.
Hijikata-san smirked. "Souji would be no good either, if he participated," he added.
He's too Souji for it, thought Chizuru.
"We can cast lots," Heisuke-kun said hopelessly. "I mean… it's that bad already. Who cares if they mess with us?"
"Kiddo's right," agreed Shinpachi-san.
Heisuke-kun glared at him but said nothing. He was somewhat lost and discouraged since the incident. His father was a big shot who was clearly displeased to see his family name in tabloids.
"Hijikata-san should definitely participate." Saitou-san raised his voice. Everyone quieted down. "Since he is both a leader and a person responsible for the whole concept. Sano may join him. He is the most recognizable of us. He can just smile at the public. No need to involve more people." On second thought, the decision was quite obvious.
Sano-san adopted a sour smirk. He liked communicating with people, but playing an ever-smiling looker could be tiresome sometimes.
"Alright, it's decided then," said Hijikata-san, getting his cigarettes out of his pocket. "Looks like a fucking trap, but…" He paused. "I hope that bastard deserves it." Hesitant smiles appeared on the members' faces. "I'm not tolerating any of his stupid pranks once he comes back!" He lit a cigarette.
"Hijikata-san! Don't smoke in the kitchen!"
...
Day four. I'm used to the lack of sleep, but Kazama-kun hardly endures it. What a wimp. We regularly set the night watch because no one wants to be caught off guard. The fundies have learned their lesson, but I won't feel safe until I return back to the headquarters. Suddenly, the court hearing is tomorrow and I'll mostly likely get penalized for public hooliganism and blah-blah-blah. Like I care.
I hardly eat anything. I need a shower. The old dirty blanket is the only thing that keeps me from coming down with a cold. I never take it off.
The jail resembles the quarantine room of the orphanage. Other kids always received deliveries from their sidekicks, pushed through the crack under the door. Little Soujirou was devoid of such things. I was there all alone, ever-hungry and my only fun was to tap rhythmic patterns on every surface available until someone yelled at me from the outside. Now there are three of us to tap the surfaces. We organise a temporary jail band and jam for hours to everyone's satisfaction and joy. Suck it up. Shiranui-kun and me are beatmakers, while Kazama-kun practises throat singing. The whole thing resembles tribal hymns and no cop dares to stop us. We are professionals after all, aren't we?
Our other entertainment is reading. It all started when Shiranui-kun fetched those damn paperbacks. I couldn't bear his constant snickering anymore so I proposed to read it aloud. Kazama-kun is actually perfect in imitating passionate intonations of male characters. I'm not bad too. My empty stomach hurts from laughing. The broken lip doesn't bother me anymore. We often hear suppressed laughter from the opposite corner.
There's no connection to the outside and it could be fun in other circumstances. I have no idea what the others are doing or whether they will be aware of my release. The prospect of returning to the headquarters on foot is not exciting. I don't really hope that Hijikata-san will bother himself with my transfer after all this shit.
These walls have eyes, these vaults have ears. It's very hard to fall asleep here as the atmosphere is too nerve-wracking. During my sleeping time various crap circulates in my mind. Every issue has a double meaning, every house has a backdoor, every face wears a mask…
…
Hijikata-san had cursed everything related to the goddamn talk show. The TV tower was located on the left bank of the river, which was a bad omen in itself. That part of the city consisted of vast industrial zones, the poorest residential districts, underutilized lands and dumpsites. Driving by Okita's former orphanage, Hijikata-san frowned. Fifteen years had passed, but the old building hadn't changed a fraction. Ancient poplars in the yard were the same too. Sano-san was silent on his seat - the view seemed to suppress him as well.
Hijikata-san suspected that the band was invited to play the bogey and willingly fell into the trap. But earlier, Yamazaki had reported about Okita being kept together with the fundies so there was no choice left.
The experts' pool of the talk show included several churchmen, local functionaries, video bloggers, fortune tellers and other freaks. Not a single lawyer or a fellow musician. Members of the Yukimura family were present as well. Every time Hijikata-san was allowed a word he was constantly interrupted for the sake of lively debate. Sano-san's smile had withered within the first ten minutes of the show and then he had just stared at the public in disbelief.
After the pack had been accused of involving a young Conservatory graduate in their questionable affairs, Hijikata-san ran out of patience. He grabbed a microphone from the hands of the nearby speaker, went to the center of the studio and barked that their concert never had been intended to insult any social groups; that their member was being kept in one cell together with the a gang of unstable citizens; that his life and health were in danger; that the trial date was still not set; and finally, that journalists were keeping a close eye on the authorities' actions. Finished with his speech, Hijikata-san nodded to Sano-san and they left the studio.
…
During the night the puddles had frozen, so that in the morning they were covered with ice. The first snow had already covered the dull jail yard. The trial was boring. Souji was surprised to find a small support crew in the room. Kondou-san arrived with a cutesy stranger who was introduced as his lawyer. Hajime was sitting at Kondou-san's left. There were several fangirls of both bands and a bunch of fundie-like men. Kondou-san was his usual caring and cheerful self. His smile fell when he saw Souji's bruised face. Sometimes Souji wished that for once his stepfather would lose his temper and scold him, but that had never happened. Instead, he could easily picture Hijikata-san yelling at him, Chizuru treating him with undeserved care, Hajime actively disapproving and the trio mocking him. He had probably earned a bit of yelling.
Hajime gave him a short bow, studying his face attentively; Souji winked in return. A sudden smile, which was completely out of place, broke his lips. That would probably entertain the photographers. An asocial hooligan has the guts to smile like an idiot during his trial.
The freshly hired lawyer tried to do his job. His defence requests didn't make much sense and were dismissed. The court imposed a penalty and on the second of November Souji was finally free. Fresh air made him feel dizzy. Souji felt a strange lightness about him. The street was the same - dull and dirty - but somehow it seemed different.
Kondou-san threw his warm haori on Souji and proposed to drive him to the base. Hajime promised to drop by tomorrow and went to his motorbike, hiding a smile. Souji got into the car. He was too drained to protest. They would have enough time to talk later. Itou occupied the front seat. Souji surrendered to his thoughts in the back.
Kondou-san seemed to place high expectations on Itou, but Souji was clearly unimpressed by his performance. All done up and eloquent, Itou resembled a host more than a lawyer. It wasn't the first time his stepfather had been charmed by an odd person. Back then, Hijikata-san had turned out to read the same books and share the same beliefs as Kondou-san. Toshi-san is so smart, Toshi-san is great, I'm so proud of being his friend… The only thing left was to watch them from a distance and let the loneliness blight him again. He wanted to join but he didn't know how to. Souji liked neither Kondou-san's favorite military novels, nor boring political talks. Now, a strong prejudice towards Itou filled him.
"Chizuru-chan must be preparing something for your return. She's such a nice girl!" Kondou-san's cheerful voice broke into his brooding. He winked to Souji through the rear-view mirror. That matrimonial quirk of his...
"Eh? Do you know Chizuru-chan, Kondou-san?" Souji's tension subsided a bit when he remembered about the girl.
"I met her while we were sending parcels to you the other day. There were some of Otsune's specials, just as you like," answered Kondou-san.
"I bet the cops enjoyed Tsune-san's cooking," Okita answered spitefully. That was new information for him. He had to tell Kondou-san that he never received any of those parcels.
They arrived at the headquarters in no time. The old house was the same except for the hoarfrost, covering the grass. Kondou-san refused to stay and promised to visit tomorrow because Souji needed rest. They exchanged goodbyes and Souji quietly entered the hall.
The sounds of music reached his ears. Chizuru was busy cutting herbs to the accompaniment of some modern violin stuff. The kitchen was filled with steam and scents of food. His dizziness returned. The melody wound sinuously and then exploded with random strings. Souji froze at the kitchen entrance holding his chin. To hear a line of balanced sounds - that was probably a better welcome than he could imagine. Then their eyes met. They stood still for several seconds, he with a small queer smile, she with a blush, spreading slowly across her cheeks.
...
Souji, Chizuru thought approaching him. "Okita-san... I've cooked some food and cleaned the bathroom so you can even take a bath and…" Chizuru stopped in confusion, taking a closer look of his appearance, her eyes slowly widening. Okita had slimmed down even more, his dirty hair was a mess and the broken lip was still a bit swollen. The knuckles of his fingers were scraped. Reddish stubble covered his jaw. Chizuru's eyes stung, but she swallowed hard and did her best not to cry in front of him.
"That's so sweet of you, Chizuru-chan," Okita muttered with the same queer smile. "But you'd better stop fussing over me. See," he touched her shoulder with index and middle fingers, "I'm not going to disappear."
"Indeed…" Chizuru lowered her eyes. "Welcome home." A wide uncontrollable smile appeared on her face. She tried not to make it sound pathetic. It was not about his imprisonment, which was not a big deal after all. It was just something strange hanging in the air between them. Winding sinuously like that melody.
"I'm home, right…" Okita smirked. "Well, I'll take a bath, thank you. I can't be dirtier than this old shell." He went out of the kitchen. Chizuru returned to her cooking. Soon afterwards she heard him calling for her and rushed to his bathroom. She popped her head into the steamy chamber, covering her eyes with a hand.
"Don't tell me you missed me that much."
"Chizuru-chan, my back." She heard his cunning voice.
"Can't you reach it yourself?"
"Nope."
"Make sure that I see nothing unnecessary then." He only chortled in response and she entered the room.
Okita was sitting in a steamy bathtub, his legs drawn up to his body and torso hunched over them embracing them with his arms. His chin rested on his knees. Chizuru slowly approached him and stopped, terrified by the view of his back and spine. He was always tall and slim but he had returned even more skinny than before. The vertebrae were sticking out on his back, covered with yellow bruises and dry scrapes.
"It must hurt in hot water," she mumbled.
"It does, but I need to wash anyway," he answered in a dull voice. "Could you rub my back, please? It sucks to smell jail."
Chizuru whipped up a bit of a soap foam and began to spread it over his back with gentle moves. Okita shivered beneath her touch. The wet tips of his hair brushed her hand.
"Sorry, did I hurt you? I'm trying to avoid the scrapes."
"There's a sponge for it, you know." He frowned grumpily. "Thank you, I'll manage it from now on."
"As you wish." Chizuru tried not to give in to his rapid mood swings.
...
"So… how was it?" Okita returned to the kitchen, dressed in his fresh clothes. Wet hair was hanging down his shoulders and the stubble was gone. He occupied his usual place by the table.
Chizuru paused, unsure where to start. "I've been listening to Saltillo a lot," she blurted. "The song Proxy made my week." It was some way to sum up the mood of the recent days.
"Hmm… I get the sentiment," he said, a wry smile touching the healthy corner of his lips. "So it was rough. I also had some music on my playlist." She turned an astonished glance on him. "But I've completely forgotten it by now. If melodies are not written down, they fade." Without movement they fall into the darkness.
"I wish I could have listened to them," said Chizuru.
Okita nodded his agreement. "You made all this for me," he muttered, examining the table. He was unexpectedly quiet that evening.
"I had some free time today," answered Chizuru, looking into his eyes. Just you dare to refuse it.
"Oh." A faint smile crossed his face. "Thank you."It was unusual for him to let her take care of him without protesting. "You know, I could get used to relying on you."
Chizuru smiled. She had just finished preparing fresh tea, when the front door's lock clicked. Only band members had keys for it. Assuming Kaoru didn't find a way to make a copy. They turned their heads to the door to encounter a very pale and gravely serious Hijikata-san. He seemed to have come as soon as his usual work finished.
"Soujirou," he uttered slowly, arms crossed against his chest.
"Ah, Hijikata-san, perfect timing! Wanna eat with us?" Hijikata-san didn't answer. He continued staring at Okita.
"Right, Hijikata-san, take a seat! We've just started." Chizuru jumped up to take a clean plate. She didn't want to listen to Hijikata-san lecturing Okita on his behavior.
"Thank you, Chizuru-chan." Hijikata-san softened a bit and sat down.
Damn right, thank you, Chizuru. Okita didn't miss his chance to strike first.
"You know, Hijikata-san," he started, pouring a cup of tea for the guest, "I have a message from our opponents. It's sorta non-verbal, so we should decode it right."
"What are you talking about?" Hijikata-san asked suspiciously.
"It's beaten into my back, my face and so on. Well, and I feel like I caught a cold there. That could also be a part of the message. A post scriptum of sorts. I don't complain, of course, but they were very specific."
"Didn't you receive the warm clothes and snacks we sent you?" Chizuru was surprised.
Okita laughed. "I guess I'll have to renew my wardrobe after this shit. We'll never see those clothes again." He didn't give a damn about his belongings.
"So, the cops were rough with you," Hijikata-san noted bitterly. He clenched his hand with chopsticks into a fist.
"Fundie brats placed in the same cell with me were not all roses either. I was lucky to have the Oni 404 members with me. Actually, the fact that I dragged them into this shit did me a service."
"I don't think it's about the cops at all," Hijikata-san said thoughtfully. "Fundies must be affiliated with high places. I'm currently working on it. And you are right: it's definitely some sort of a damn message for us."
"Fuck off, don't mess around, disappear and die?" Chizuru proposed angrily. Surprised, Okita looked at her. She snorted in irritation. Great, another person who seemed to think that cursing didn't suit her.
"Sort of. I've started a media campaign to protect us. More hype we get, safer we are. We need to state our position clearly and give a hint that it's just a part of a larger game. Souji was a fool to let them provoke him so easily. Don't smile like that!" Hijikata-san barked at Okita. "And then they came up with a fresh idea to scare us a bit! You should go to the doctor." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He seems to feel guilty about what happened to Okita, thought Chizuru. But the only alternative would be to curtail all activities.
"Sure," Okita said nonchalantly.
"I tried to track the rumors. Yamazaki-kun provides me with some inside stuff you don't see on the net. He talked to a pair of drunk police officers on the Bar Mile. They told him that you were being kept together with the fundies. That's why I decided to take part in that freaking TV show." Chizuru's jaw dropped at the news about Yamazaki's adventures.
"A very helpful dude, huh?" said Okita. "Did you save his life? He practically worships the ground you walk on."
"He owes me," muttered Hijikata-san.
"Oh, how modest of you."
"I thought that if we revealed the conditions of your imprisonment, it would smooth things over. So we took part in a primetime goddamn fucking talk show which was a total mess."
Okita snorted. Now the suddenness of his trial made sense.
"But how did Yamazaki-san manage to figure it out?" asked Chizuru. "I mean, the cops were drunk, but he's an unknown guy…"
"I'll tell you that: Yamazaki has a good reason to shave off his brows," said Okita with a smirk. Chizuru wanted to ask more, but he changed the subject. "By the way, was bastard-sama really your college mate?" Okita turned to Hijikata-san.
"Yeah. I bet he told tales about me."
"Not at all. He was more interested in Chizuru-chan. And our management problems."
"Why me? I don't even know him." Chizuru was clearly unimpressed. Okita smiled.
…
Hijikata-san is a nag. I expected him to yell at me, but he just wants to know every single detail. I try to smooth things over in order not to bother Chizuru. She'd almost cried when she saw me this evening. Man, I did look terrible. Thankfully, she restrained herself. I have no idea how to comfort crying girls.
Now that I sit safely in the headquarters, I doubt my decision to give Kazama-kun Chizuru's business card. A damn orphanage habit of mine that I still can't get rid of. He did me a favor - I must return it. Revenge and mutual exchange were the main laws back then. I would hate to feel indebted, especially to that prick. He seemed overly interested in the girl and he treated me with that strange air of expectancy… Gahh. I shouldn't bother myself over it any more.
Hijikata-san says that Itou-the-lawyer is Kondou-san's brand new obsession. That's so like Kondou-san: he must have seen something in that Itou guy and now I'll have to endure one more odd person.
While I struggle to betray as few jail details as possible, my phone rings. Couldn't be better.
"You must have heard about my release, Kei-kun?" He surely has a good reason to call me. "Evening." Hijikata-san hears the name and his face falls.
"Always a pleasure. But you are not quite right," Kei-kun answers. I hear the smile in his voice. "Souji-kun, do you know about the Water of Life?"
…
"What did he want?" asked Hijikata-san, looking rather displeased.
"You know, Kei-kun's whereabouts are a bit… shady." Okita began in a roundabout way. "He spends a lot of time on the left bank of the river and in the Gypsy quarters. Rumors have been circulating about the new synthetic drug, The Water of Life."
"Kind of an ironic name for the drug," grumbled Hijikata-san.
"Indeed. He advises us to double caution. It seems that our fundie friends have access to this fashionable muck."
Hijikata-san buried his face in his hands and cursed.
"Sober fundies were no fun at all. Imagine what would happen with drugged ones - the possibilities are endless," said Okita, smiling.
Hijikata-san sighed.
"God, that's all we need!" exclaimed Chizuru. "And who's Kei-kun by the way?"
"You've seen him before," answered Hijikata-san. "Sannan Keisuke, a former partner of Souji's. He's nine years older than Souji, but they were that close."
"I was very young and independent so I constantly called him by his first name," said Okita, grinning. "Much to his annoyance, of course. He was a bit too prudish back then and I enjoy taking people down a peg." He glanced at Hijikata-san.
"Way to go," Chizuru said sarcastically. She was absolutely sure that working together doesn't make people friends and several orchestral years were solid proof. But members of small underground bands usually develop closer bonds. There was something odd about the coldness with which Okita spoke of his former bandmate. Hijikata-san was not delighted to hear about Sannan-san either.
About ten o'clock, Hijikata-san remembered that the prisoner needed to rest and left. Chizuru and Okita started to wash dishes and clean the kitchen. The mundane chore was comforting. They worked in silence, swift and smooth like two parts of a fine engine. Finished, Okita stretched his hand to turn off the lights when Chizuru finally gathered her courage.
"Okita-san, it…" she paused for a bit. Lecturing him was the last thing Chizuru wanted to do, but she couldn't stay silent as well.
"Are you going to tell me that I'm a shameless rascal to bring these troubles upon all of us?" Okita asked in a flippant voice. A sly smile cracked his lips.
"Nope, but you were reckless."
"I'm disappointed, Chizuru-chan." He bent down to her with a provoking smile.
"Fine then. I'll give you a piece of my mind." Chizuru started to lose her temper. "You are injured and you could have gotten hurt much worse if there had been no Onis to have your back! Who knows how long you would have been kept in jail if Yamazaki-san hadn't overheard some cops, and Hijikata-san and Sano-san hadn't gone through that humiliation on TV! That's relying on an awful lot of luck with your health at stake, don't you think?"
"Much better!" said Okita, unabashed. Chizuru felt an urge to shake him. "But now they will think twice before approaching us - some people know no other language but violence."
"Nonsense! They have connections, media and followers and now they even have drugs. Oh god!" She turned away from him.
"It was my choice to get hurt. You shouldn't worry about me, Chizuru-chan." Okita ended up falling into his own trap. Explaining his behavior to anyone was not really his thing and the new feeling was annoying. His playful mood was gone.
"Yeah, never pass up a new experience to enrich your mind," Chizuru grumbled bitterly. "And what's the problem with worrying about you…" she added quietly, calming down.
Okita felt his cheeks heat up. Perhaps Kondou-san chose a comfortable way to just ignore his stepchild's extremes, as he had never scolded him. And Hijikata-san was not so selfless as to watch over a full-grown man. The only one who was there to tell him off was the girl.
When Chizuru was about to apologize for her straightforwardness, he suddenly asked, "Were you afraid to stay here alone?"
She paused for a bit and then answered. "Yeah."
"I see." Okita turned off the kitchen lights and lit a lantern in his smartphone. He tugged Chizuru's sleeve and they went to the second floor.
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Outro. The previous chapter is very important for me as I made my first attempt to write from Souji's point of view. I'm grateful to everyone who read and left reviews: HakuSaitoSan, CanadianGAAP, ImpracticalDemon, Eliz1369. Your kind words support me a lot.
Eliz1369, thanks for the compliments, your review has brightened my mood a lot! I hope that you will continue reading because IMO the story gradually becomes better.
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The chapter is named after the song 'Carnival Justice (the Gloves are Off) Part II' by Hannah Fury.
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The illustration for the previous chapter featuring Okita, Kazama and Shiranui together in the cell is posted on my tumblr.
I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think.