Takasugi's Loss

Shoulders pressed together upon the cliff-top, Kagura and Sougo shared a shiver. The sea mist was so cold it stung her fingertips, but neither of them wanted to move away from the edge. There was something thrilling about where they sat, feet dangling over the drop with skittering stones falling as raindrops, becoming lost in the ocean like salt in sand. It was powerful to be there watching the shadows of the clouds dance on the ocean waves, the spill of the moon's reflection a gentle, immovable glow. The rushing sound of the tide against the rock face below them that cancelled out their breathing provided a constant backdrop to the mood.

"My mum used to always keep me away from places like this," Sougo commented, pulling Kagura's attention away from the waves, "so when she died it kind of became a must."

"You little rebel."

"I guess." He shrugged.

"I was always the adorable, well-behaved treasure. Mama loved me."

"So she died, too?" He probed. Kagura gave a small nod.

"But she was the prettiest mama in the universe."

"You are your father's daughter then?" She nudged him lightly, to which he nudged back and a dangerous game ensued. Eventually, they called a silent truce and went back to watching the trance-inducing swell and fall of the wave crests. "How did she die?"

"Mammy was born on a planet far away where altana gave things life. It was the throbbing energy source in the ground, the air even. When mammy left that planet to be with us … she knew she would not survive without it."

"A being of the altana … like Utsuro?" She hummed in agreement and rose her knees to her chest, hugging them close.

"Don't you have any of that? You and that crazy brother of yours, don't you need altana?"

Kagura frowned. "I have never thought about that. I guess not."

"Maybe it's not the type of thing you can inherit." Sougo mumbled. He must have sunk into his own thoughts then because he didn't stir for several minutes, brow lowered slightly. She would glance at him every now and again. She had questions she wanted to ask but she had seen him after losing Mitsuba. It frightened her to bring back that pain to him. It seemed like the memory was still too raw for her to probe, ice still too thin that he was in danger of cracking. Mitsuba was his one weakness, and she was sure she always had been.

Kagura had her own weaknesses.

Sougo nudged her and she blinked. She became aware of how much time had passed since they had arrived and also of the temperature of her toes. It was definitely time to go. She stood up and offered her hand to help him to his feet, where they began the staggered descent to the beach and back towards town. The shinsengumi barracks were further than the apartment so it made sense that Sougo walk with her. They were no longer holding hands but their shoulders still brushed every few steps. It was just nice to be close. It wasn't often that they had time to spend together like this. Moreover, looking around at the town she loved so dearly became less painful when he was there. Alone, she couldn't help look at the ruins and remember what used to be. The shattered lives on all sides, pathetic attempts at houses lining the streets because people couldn't afford more than the rubble they slept beside. It was so much more bearable to walk with him and instead imagine the future.

Kagura climbed the steps to the yorozuya and Sougo followed a step behind. When she reached the door, she turned to say goodbye but he shook his head.

"I'm coming in for a bit. To see danna." Kagura grunted something about self-inviting but didn't stop him. She kicked off her boots, noting the clumps of rock and sand caught in the tread as she did so, and called for Gintoki.

"Gin-chan~" she yelled. There was no immediate response, which didn't particularly mean anything. He could be engrossed in JUMP, asleep on the sofa or even downstairs with Otose.

The note on the desk meant a lot more.

She didn't even read the paper. If he had popped out for something, he wouldn't have bothered leaving a note. Her heart sank and a hole opened up inside of her. Sougo passed and picked up the note to read. He crumpled it in his hands. There was no need to speak. She knew what the note said and he knew exactly how lost and depressed she felt. His brow ticked slightly as he slung the note into the bin and walked over, wrapping his arms around her. His larger size completely encircled Kagura; she could hide her face in his chest, sink her hands into his jacket. He lifted one hand to stroke it from the crown of her head, right down her back to the tips. It offered little comfort. Gintoki had broken his promise.

This time, he had said he would stay.

Hijikata was flooding his breakfast bowl with mayonnaise when Okita Sougo finally shuffled into the barracks. Looking up from his cereal, he noticed the heavy bags under his eyes. Wherever he had been, he hadn't slept last night. Though, after yesterday's events, it wasn't hard for him to guess where he'd stayed over. Sougo caught his stare and immediately clicked his tongue, turning his head away. For once, he didn't head straight to Hijikata's table to tease him and instead seated himself on an empty table elsewhere. With a sigh, Hijikata finished off his meal quickly so he could catch his subordinate before he sneaked out of sight. Sougo picked his head up at the clunk of boots behind him but didn't turn.

"You're late," he grunted. Sougo shrugged sagging shoulders; he looked drained. "As a superior officer you should be setting an example, you brat." There was no reply, so Hijikata slid into the seat next to him and adopted what he hoped appeared to be a non-aggressive pose. It wasn't often that Sougo let things bother him. There had been a definite change in him recently. Hijikata was unsure whether this was part of 'growing up', or a result of the chaotic world they now lived in. Even he was getting emotional. Maybe this was just how relationships were. Neither had them had experienced anything like what they were both a part of now, so they were completely new to it all.

He had been surprised when Gintoki hinted to him about Kagura and Sougo's relationship. Admittedly, the situation he had been in was downright inappropriate anyway, so any sort of information given to him was a surprise. But to him, Sougo was always a little kid. For him to be interested in that type of thing was a shock. To be interested in China … to be honest, less so. They had always had good chemistry, and of all people, Sougo had been there when others hadn't. The reverse was also true. Hijikata just hadn't expected things to happen so quickly. Even to go as far as staying over when Kagura was vulnerable, like last night. He felt they should still be throwing worms down each other's collars. As of yet, he hadn't asked Gintoki what he thought about it all. There was a lot on his mind right now and Hijikata was treading ice (which he probably shattered with a sledge hammer last night).

"Your boyfriend has gone off to cheat on you again," Sougo commented. Hijikata winced – boyfriend was such a juvenile word.

"He causes nothing but trouble."

"I just don't understand him nowadays."

Hijikata snorted bitterly. "That makes two of us." Neither of them being one for conversation, the dialogue stopped short there, whilst Sougo chewed lazily on rice and Hijikata drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking.

He was trying to solve this puzzle. Gintoki was such an essential piece to Kabuki and he was missing. Because of him, all these problems were sprouting. Honestly, he was such a douche. But Gintoki had problems of his own. He was torn between two parts of himself, neither of which he wanted to let go of. Hijikata knew this was as much his problem as it was Gintoki's. How could he share the burden? How could he fix him? He was too pissed off to think logically because logic told him to drag his backside home. Who gave a shit about his past? His future was right here. And he was bitterly annoyed that Takasugi Shinsuke was his competition. Him and Zura. Of all people, he was playing tug of war against jouishishi rebels – what nonsense. He couldn't even sympathise with them. They should just go back to blowing shit up so he could chase them down like rabbits.

He breathed aggressively through his nostrils, curses on his tongue that he couldn't say out-loud.

"I'll not be staying here tonight either." Sougo broke the silence, not commenting on the steam billowing from Hijikata. He got to his feet and pushed the chair back under the table.

"Take your comms device. If I need you, I'll call."

"Who'd want you calling," he sniffed, curling his lip. He left and Hijikata remained to aggressively clean up the dishes he had abandoned (probably on purpose). He was about to leave and start morning duties when a tap on his shoulder stilled him. It was Kondo.

"Did you talk to him?" he asked.

"Well, kind of."

"He seemed … upset." Kondo's eyes were soft and worried. He had a slight furrow in his brow.

"Relationship problems," Hijikata shrugged and tried to end the conversation there; he knew what was coming next.

"And you?"

"What about me? I'm fine." He replied far too quickly. He wasn't fooling anyone.

"Tosshi." The word was powerful enough to halt his footsteps. "If the yorozuya is in trouble, we're in trouble. It's as much my problem as it is theirs because you two are important to me."

"It's not something worthy of your attention, Kondo-san."

"To-"

"Honestly, I don't know what to do, but at the moment, all we can do is wait for him to return. He's a grown man, he can do what he likes … I can't stop him."

"I'm sure he'll listen to you-"

"Like hell he would!" He shouted, suddenly glad that the room was empty of his subordinates. "I tried, Kondo-san. I told him not to go and he went. What- … fuck. What more can I do?" Clenching his fists tight, he stormed out of there. He was bitter, angry. He had tried to cover it up. He had tried to sort this again and again, tried to lock it all away in a little box somewhere but, fuck, he was so, so angry.

So hurt.

A knock stirred Kagura. She couldn't have called it sleeping – she hadn't known sleep in weeks. The sound of the door took a few moments to stir her, though, and getting up with her aching limbs didn't seem like such a pleasant idea. Anyhow, she rolled off the sofa onto her unsteady feet just as Shinpachi entered the living room. He beamed brightly at her, holding something wrapped in a carrier bag in his hands that tickled her nose. She attempted to smile back. Attempted.

"Don't you have any jobs today?" He asked, letting himself in and shuffling over to the kitchen. "I brought this for you to have tonight but if you're hungry, I can warm it up?"

"Thanks, Shin-chan."

"No problem. Where's Gin-san? I heard he came back." She lowered her eyes to the floor and sank back into the sofa. Her silence was her answer and Shinpachi frowned disapprovingly. "He's gone again?" He tutted. "I appreciate that he needs to see his friends sometimes but this is excessive." Kagura reached for the remote to drown out her thoughts with background noise. Shinpachi emptied the carrier bag onto the side and set up the electric stove he had brought to heat the contents. He glanced over at Kagura again, his concern only deepening.

"You look terrible, Kagura-chan." His admonishment was ignored as she became absorbed in another trash drama series. Shinpachi strode over and stood between her and the screen so that she had no choice but to look at him. "Have you been sleeping properly? Never mind that, have you even been eating? You've lost a lot of weight."

"Are you calling me fat?" she mumbled, her heart not really in it.

"I'm worried for you. Do you want to come stay with us?"

"Where?" She snorted. "You've got a tent and a pile of bricks."

"A tent and a pile of bricks it may be, but we're together, sis and I. You're alone."

"I'm fine."

His expression saddened and his response was a low whisper. "Look in the mirror and say that again."

He decided to leave her be for now. His warning had been heard and he would definitely be speaking to Gintoki when he returned. If things continued, he would drag Kagura out to live with him and his sister. They'd have no money, no heating and just a tent to sleep in, but they'd be together. Kagura could quit the yorozuya and help them rebuild the dojo. They'd manage somehow without an income. They had to because things couldn't carry on this way.

As starved and tired as she looked, Kagura could do no more than pick at the stew Shinpachi had bowled up for her. She turned several shades of green as she ate it; she still forced it down.

He was unwilling to leave her but Shinpachi had a list as long as his body of things to do. He scrawled a note for Gintoki and left it with the others that had piled up on his desk. After giving Kagura a small hug and pat on the head, he left to grab his shoes.

"If you need anything, you know where I am!" He called as he left.

A storm was on its way. The first pellets of rain chipped Gintoki's shoulders as he walked the final distance to Takasugi's house. The place was a reasonable distance from the nearest village and hidden on the opposite side of a lake within the drop of a valley. He owned a fair amount of the land around it, too. It had previously been a government official's holiday home, but Takasugi wasn't known for 'buying' what he wanted. Who knew how it had come into his possession. The road had ended quite some time ago and Gintoki was trudging through muddy fields, using only his acute sense of direction to get him to where he needed to be. He had been here enough times, the problem was each time he came, he seemed to take another route. Every tree looked the same and the only reference he had was the lake on his right hand side. Eventually, the wooden-built house appeared through the trees and Gintoki re-centred himself on the right path towards it.

Right outside the surrounding stone wall was a cherry blossom tree. It was very Takasugi-esque. The traditionalism of it all - tiled sloping rooftop and sliding doors, wooden framed entrance-ways made of paper that allowed soft light to filter through - it was very typical of him. He passed two statues of gremlin-like dogs guarding the entranceway. The wall encircled the house in the same dramatic design as the rest of the building with little fish motifs at the edges. It wasn't Gintoki's style. He liked traditional houses, but he liked the plainness of it. All the expensive looking additions made his stomach curl. What Takasugi resided in was less of a home and more of a temple. Or even a castle.

As he thought, very Takasugi-like.

He didn't knock or call out. There wouldn't be anyone home except the owner, he knew. Gintoki often wondered what had happened to Takasugi's vast network of connections: the blonde woman, the guy with sunglasses, where had they disappeared to? Most likely, they had been shut out. That guy was like that. He didn't deal well with connections if they were not for business. He couldn't cope with friendship or love. The reason being, relationships meant more to him than to anybody Gintoki had ever known, and all of the ones he had treasured had been mauled somehow. His beloved teacher, who had taught him to live, had been taken away. His friends, who showed him laughter, became enemies.

All this had started so long ago, but the dark result of it was now raising its ugly head.

"Gintoki?" Gintoki's feet paused and he twisted over his shoulder to see his friend. He looked terrible - probably the result of a bad hangover.

"You look like shit," he said bluntly, not hiding his expression as he looked Takasugi up and down.

"Why are you here?"

Gintoki snorted, making his way uninvited to where the kotatsu was and burrowing himself under it to get warm. "You asked me to. Were you that drunk?"

"Shut up, you imbecile." Takasugi shuffled after him and sat at the other side, Gintoki's feet finding their way into his lap. They kicked and pulled at each other for several moments, but in the end Gintoki's feet won. "Shouldn't you be with your kids?"

"What, you want me to leave?" He complained.

"I didn't say that."

Truly, he did appear drained. It must have been a very bad few nights for him. There didn't necessarily need to be a trigger for times like this either; Gintoki knew that well enough. Sometimes, memories were painted more vividly than others. They spent a good five minutes in silence, Gintoki laid on his back with his arms behind his head, Takasugi staring at the ceiling blankly. It was a miracle that things had come this far. Only months previous, they would meet with the sole intention of killing each other. Gintoki, fearing what his friend had become and understanding his self-consuming wish to die and destroy the world with him, wanted to preserve his friend in the only way he knew. Takasugi, caught up in a torrent of pain that didn't know where to direct itself, where to blame, collided against Gintoki in a vein attempt to silence the screaming beast inside. Neither of them had true reason for blood lust, they understood that now. And though Zura was still struggling against his morals, unable to face Takasugi as he previously had, somehow Gintoki had elapsed back into the past so easily. Calling a truce wasn't as difficult as he had believed. It was only their surroundings that had changed. Takasugi was still the abandoned rich kid who so desperately wanted to do as he pleased and follow his own rules. Gintoki was the abandoned poor kid, who also desperately pursued his own rules.

"What happened to your fangirl?" He asked. He made sure to watch Takasugi's expression.

"I don't need her any more." The reply was double layered. On the outside, that cold icy plain that was hostile to all. Inside, he was unsure. Takasugi knew as well as Gintoki that if he asked her to, she would stay.

"And the ukulele fellow?"

"It's not a- … Him, too."

"Why not?" He shifted uncomfortably where he sat. Gintoki knew he had to probe carefully as anything too deep and he would snap out. Still, he pushed a little further. "Relax a bit. You're no longer the leader of the Kiheitai."

"Exactly, you idiot." Oops, too deep. "That's why I sent them back."

"To where? If they had anything worth returning to, they wouldn't have joined the Kiheitai, would they?"

"What does it matter? Shut up before I hit you."

"The world has ended and been reborn. You have a chance to live again and those guys are willing to spend their lives with you. Why not let them?"

"The world did end, Gintoki. But not when Utsuro was killed."

Though Gintoki had somehow been able to come to terms with Utsuro, Takasugi had not. Gintoki had his kids – they had dragged him through all that trauma. Every nightmare he woke knowing they were close by. Each fight he fought, they fought alongside him and were the firm earth beneath his feet that reinstated his reason. Through all the blood shed, the self-hatred, those kids had been there to guide him along the right path. Takasugi had none of that: he had made sure of it. He had thrown away everything in his grasp, fearing it would hold him back. He had always been afraid of his reason being clouded; he couldn't get the revenge his body craved if he treasured people. Friendships? How could he have those when his sole reason to live was to die.

"Hey, Takasugi," Gintoki muttered, following the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes. "Remember that time I was caught in an explosion and you single-handedly carried me miles away from the battlefield. You didn't stop once, not for food or water or a rest." Takasugi didn't reply and Gintoki had not expected him to. They hadn't shared this many years together to need words to express things. "You told me not to die."

"Your point?"

"There isn't one, really." He scratched his stomach with one hand. "I'm, just thankful. Because that day, I would have died. And if I had, I wouldn't have lived to meet those two."

"Your kids?" Takasugi couldn't help scoffing at him. "Honestly, I never thought you'd become so soppy, playing house in your thirties."

"Twenties."
"Could be thirties for all you know."

"I could be the dancing queen."

"No you couldn't," he stifled a laugh.

"Anyway, when are you going to make me a drink? I'm a visitor."
"Do you want one?"

"Er, yeah?"

"If you turn the tap to the left water comes out. And it's free."

"You're a real bastard."

Gintoki was beginning to feel the anxiety seep out of his bones. He had been tense since the moment of that phone call, worried that this time, Takasugi would go one step too far. Sober and no longer alone, he seemed much more like his usual self. He was considering taking a step that, for a long time, he had considered impossible for them both: visiting the place where they met Shouyo. The place where the master they knew was born and died, where three monsters, young and alone, were brought together. Truthfully, he had wanted Zura to come with him but repairing the relationship between Takasugi and Zura seemed a much farther-off goal than bringing Takasugi back alone. However, Gintoki believed that Zura would probably come along if he asked, to pay his respects.

It was all so complicated.

Fixing themselves, fixing each other. He often wondered if it was worth it. When all three had new lives with new people, new goals, what use was there in resuscitating their dead relationship? Despite that, he couldn't abandon his ties to them, especially when out of the three, Takasugi would get the worst deal. That incident had exploded between them, sending each shard off in a different direction. For a long while, they had stumbled on, trying to find a new reason to live. Now, Gintoki could truthfully say he had found his. And he knew that Takasugi had not. When Takasugi was struggling so hard to recover from the same blow he had been dealt, how could he float away and leave him to sink?

The whole thing was so complicated.

All he knew, in the end, is that he treasured their past together, and that – for him – was enough reason for him to stay.

The gentle thrum of noise was a pleasant background buzz for Kagura, allowing her thoughts to be pushed aside as she waited for her next customer. It was evening time, so the street had a constant flow of people meandering towards town. Evening lighting allowed her to sink into the shadow of a vending machine with ease. She could watch the throng of people come and go, able to observe their movements and anticipate actions before they occurred. Sougo had taught her that. One day whilst eating outside a café in broad daylight, he had run through human psychology – ticks and behaviour changes. He talked about how to tell what they were thinking, if they were calm or nervous, whether they were suspicious or average. It was interesting to do. She often found herself running through these rules in her head when she was bored or waiting for someone. Times such as this, however, his tricks were practical.

The caller hadn't given her much information. He was willing to pay quite a large sum, but he would not meet her at the apartment to explain – it had to be out in the open. Their actual meeting place was about 100 or so paces down the street and she was already ten minutes late. She had been observing the scene for at least half an hour. Really, she was plenty strong enough to counter anything that could happen but it was something to do. The precaution wasn't necessary, however it did make her quite excited about the meeting going by the crew of hidden mafia she had identified awaiting her. They had done their best to cover up – about three or four of them scattered in the street wearing casual clothes – and yet they stuck out like big red x's on the floor. Sougo's tips had been very useful.

Number one: people who share a connection or get along tend to copy each other's body language. Men and/or women sat or stood similarly have often subconsciously copied one another. They have a connection in some form. For example, one may be watching the other, or they may know them. This is particularly important to notice when one of the group changes positions. If they were connected in any way, the other was likely to copy. Kagura had noticed this alignment. When Mafia guy 1 folded his arms, Mafia guy 2 did so, too.

Number two: those trying their best to fade in will not look awkward. Your average person waiting for someone outside a café will immediately take to checking their phone, else they will shift and fidget, glancing up and down the street. Conversely, the mafia crew each looked calm. They checked their watches with grace, sighed, read a newspaper. It was all very natural, and thereby unnatural, according to Sougo.

Number three: the best way to stake out an enemy is to think like them. It was a cliché claim, but it worked. Look for the most hidden areas, the best covered, the ones with the widest view … where you'd chose to be safe is likely where they will be. Guy 1 took refuge within a restaurant at the table by the window. It was in sight of the meeting location with only a few paces to take away from the door. Guy 2 was almost directly across the street smoking a cigarette under a canopy. Again, he had a perfect view of the scene without having to travel too far away. Guy 3 sat on a bench only a few meters from Kagura. She was sure he hadn't spotted her yet – he had his back to her. Despite that, he had a good view of the street. The fourth guy she had noticed was a maybe, but she still kept tabs on his whereabouts just in case.

It was about time for her to find out what three mafia men and a businessman had planned for her.

She grasped for her umbrella which had been leaning against her thigh, confidently swooping the large object round and onto her back. She strode towards their arranged meeting place, making firm eye contact with each of the potential threats as she did so. This was the perfect distraction. The thrill of a fight managed to take her away from everything. It fired energy through her limbs, electrifying her fatigue and giving her a strength she hadn't felt for days. She knew they were watching her - she could feel the muzzle of a weapon circling her heart. She let the roar of her blood fire up in her ears so her thoughts became mumbles, focussed on the microscopic movements of each person around her. Don't think about him. Each shift of a pupil, twitch of a hand. Don't think about him.

"Are you the client?" Kagura struck the nose of her umbrella into the ground and cocked her head.

"Yorozuya? Perfect. Sit down." She did so, but not without flicking her eyes once more to the mafia guy indoors. Her eyes glared – I know you're there. He blinked but didn't falter. "You're a Yato, right? In my bag I have a large sum of money. It will all be yours if you provide protection for me during a transaction I am going to make today." She nodded. She didn't need to know the details. She didn't need to know if this was legal or not; to be honest, she knew the answer to that. Why shouldn't she get involved? It was easy cash and it was no different from the jobs she had done before- …

Before she had met Gintoki.

Strength was her race's unique selling point. If she didn't get involved with the transaction, she couldn't be held responsible. Or so she kept telling herself.

"What do you need me for if you have those guys?" She gestured to the hidden backup troop and the man's thin brows shot up in surprise. Obviously she wasn't meant to know about that. Though, his reaction had more or less confirmed it.

"I need the assurance of a Yato's strength. Deal?" He extended his hand to her, smiling broadly. Pausing only briefly, Kagura took it.

'The transaction' was to take place in a busy, high-end restaurant. Being in the public eye, it was a perfect place to prevent fraud of whatever kind. The table was in the centre of the room, Kagura's new boss sat across from an empty chair and her seated right behind, munching on a dish he had paid for. The rest of their crew were splattered all over the place and she hadn't bothered to check on them. All she knew was that someone was going to seat themselves opposite the scrawny, middle-aged bloke she had shook hands with and it was her job to watch his back. It was a pretty simple job. Her environment, however, made her feel a little nervous. If something kicked off, every single person in the room was in danger.

She chomped down on another mouthful, barely swallowing it before she nearly brought it back up. Food had never been a problem of hers. Recently? It wouldn't go down. Was this part of growing up? Or was her lack of appetite a result of chronic stress? She gulped down a full cup of water regardless. Free food was free food.

At that moment, the tension in the room seemed to escalate and a familiar buzz of instinct halted her chopsticks. She identified her 'client's' business partner, sussed him out from head to toe. Pretty plain. In fact, he was even wearing sandals. Hardly the sort of black-suited mafia agent she was expecting. Behind him though … three Yato.

"Captain!" Yamazaki burst open the door to Sougo's room, rousing him from a shallow slumber. "Emergency!"

Two squads, including Sougo's, formed up at the front of the barracks, weapons firmly at their hips. Hijikata was the first of the commanders to appear, briefly explaining the situation whilst the cars and equipment were readied.

"We're running on low intel, so keep sharp. Anything suspicious is important, anything not suspicious may be even more so. Sougo's squad will raid the unit, I will hold the outside. Keep your communication devices on. That's all."

With that, they filed into awaiting vehicles which swept off, sirens blaring. The radios each soldier was wearing buzzed every twenty seconds or so with new intel. Sougo rubbed his eyes with his palm and yawned. He wasn't in the mood for something like this. Whoever had decided to stage an attack on a restaurant should just die and go to hell for disturbing his nap.

"There are accounts of nineteen civilians injured. None reported dead so far."

It was just really unfair that terrorists or whoever wanted to cause trouble on this of all days.

"We're after a man of around late thirties, early forties in western clothing and a man of younger age wearing traditional attire. They have escaped towards the docks."

The car skidded by kabuki district and Sougo wondered what Kagura was doing right now. He should have asked before he left that morning if she had a job on or if she would be alone, but he hadn't. There wasn't anything he could do, either way. He had work, as annoying as it was.

"It seems to be a gang fight."

He was really bitter that their night together had been ruined – danna was going to have to repay him for that, amongst other things.

"Reports have detailed what appears to be three yato. Two male and one female."

Something was wrong with her body. It wasn't responding and she was sure that she tasted blood in her mouth. She hadn't even been hit yet, but the way things were going, she couldn't hold out much longer. Whatever had gone wrong in the transaction didn't matter. She didn't care. However, she very much did care about the civilians who had become trapped on a battlefield. When the relationship had soured, one of the Yato had turned on her client so fast that she barely had time to diffuse the power of the blow with her umbrella. The other two Yato stalked the room and flattened the mafia men who had made vain attempts at drawing weapons on them. It was quickly just Kagura, her client and a room full of innocent people.

It took all her effort to defend herself and divert the fight outside. Client stuffed under one arm like a rug, she had sprinted at least half a mile before her feet were taken out by a flying umbrella. She tumbled across the floor, gathering bruises like dust and scraping most of the left side of her face against raw concrete. That hurt, but not as much as the subsequent pummelling to her stomach as a heavy body slammed on top of her. She knew she was not on form. She gave her body instructions it just couldn't cope with, arms like jelly and legs like lead – so weak and yet immovable. Was this stress? Had she contracted a cold? Was the reason she had collapsed the same reason her chin was getting cracked left and right, blow after blow?

She hurled blood onto the concrete, barely managing to kick the adult Yato off and wrestle out of his grasp. Immediately, she found her client dead before her. His neck had been snapped, probably ages ago, so these Yato really had no need to be beating her like this. This was just fun. Kagura less than gracefully leapt to her feet and set off running once more. She got no more than two paces - she hadn't even seen the second Yato in front, who grabbed her by the neck and crushed it in his iron grip. The pain was agonising, bringing an acidic burn to her mouth as she choked on her own bile. Her ears tuned out because she was just waiting for the click of her death.

Bright lights swung their way and the Yato holding her disappeared into the night, but not before throwing her limp body over the edge of the concrete, dropping down into darkness until she met the water below with a harsh clap.

There was nothing more she could recall.

No words had passed between Hijikata and Sougo when they had jumped from the back seats of the police cars and encountered the crime scene. Hijikata sent his troops racing after the shadows of Yato vanishing into the night; Sougo dived over the edge of the docks.

He dragged an unconscious, non-breathing Kagura to where his troops dangled a rope to them. His heart beat so loudly. He really needed to concentrate but his hands were shaking. She wasn't breathing. She wasn't breathing. He needed her to breathe. He couldn't even make the decision to climb the rope because he was panicked, he needed her to breathe – now. One of his men managed to get him to grasp the rope and they were heaved up as quickly as possible.

What had he learned in battle first aid? CPR. That's right. CPR. How did he do that? She was laid out beneath him, snow white skin and was that - blood? A smear of- … CPR. He needed to do it now. But wouldn't she choke on water? Did he need to somehow empty her lungs of water? Fuck, he didn't know.

"She's breathing!" Kagura choked, signalling her first breath which was punctuated by a mixture of water and blood dribbling down her neck but Sougo couldn't care less at that moment. He shook with relief, though quickly he felt the cold shiver of panic in his hands. He couldn't stop the trembling.

"MEDIC." His scream pierced the air and was repeated down several radios in response. She was quickly buried under a mountain of shinsengumi jackets. Not a single policeman was in more than his vest – Sougo ensured it. He wasn't out of the danger zone yet. His gut was still unsettled. She looked dreadfully cold. Even the wounds on her body were a cold purple, not a warm red.

She was not safe yet.