Time moves on. A year, two years, five, and then ten. A decade had passed since that rain.
He was now twenty eight, an adult. No longer was he that uncertain fledgeling from ten years ago, who jumped at the wisp of a wind, but a grown and mature hawk who could outfly any gale. The legendary swordsman of the Shinsengumi. Okita Sougo.
Today was one of those days, the ones between full blown summer and reluctant spring. Perfect. He leaned over the wooden bridge, nibbling absentmindedly on a strand of tasteless hay. A bloated dollop of cloud, like a cream puff or perhaps the palace of Laputa, languidly floated in the brilliant blue of the sky. A fresh sigh of wind brushed strands of his mouse-colored hair.
"Ne ne, Ossan."
Little tugs on his sleeve pushed him out of his wonderful listlessness. He irritatedly looked down, irritated from being brought back to reality and also from being called an ossan.
"Whatdya want kid," he grumbled grouchily before he blinked and his mind sharpened. Not a moment too soon. Metal screeched on metal, screaming for blood and blood and blood. People were screaming and terror was the acrid fumes pouring into the air.
And just as quickly, it ended. The child, who he could now see was a teenage girl, leaped back, landing neatly with her mauve umbrella. She shook out her spiky black mane before leaping away into the crowd and disappearing.
It was a while before he realized that he was still crouching, the sword gripped with white knuckles. He deeply sighed before sheathing it away when something crunched at the bottom. Blinking, he redrew his sword and saw a piece of paper pierced through it.
"Snack Otose. Tonight."
It had been years since the last time he visited the shifty snack house. As he rattled open the door, he took back in the nostalgic scene. Dim lit lighting, check. Drunk middle aged men, check. A robotic maid, a cat woman, and a very old woman, check, check, check. Yup, this is Snack Otose.
"Okita-san! It has been a very long time; would you like something to drink?" Tama politely stood forward and gestured to one of the seats. "As usual there are plenty of seats here so feel free to choose whichever one you please."
"No, it's fine. And besides, I already have an appointment with someone." His eyes narrowed as he stared at the edge of the counter. Unblinking onyx eyes bored back into his. He strode over.
"What do you want with me, you-"
"I am not who called you out." She gestured to the dark clad figure beside her. "My master is the one."
The person wore a fading and worn beige cape, spilling onto the floor. A thatched straw hat shaded over any possible facial features, save a flowing river of crimson hair.
"... Who are you," Okita asked cautiously. His nerves had suddenly become a tangled mess, and his heart was thumping away painfully at the bones of his chest. Anticipation was began burning to a fever pitch.
Porcelain hands gently tugged apart the knot and the hat rustled down. The person stood up, meeting Okita eye for eye. A sunny smile.
"Hello there. My name is Kamui."