I so agree with you, Anon. Let us cross fingers for Sōji's health.
Laughter, dangos, yakitoris and colourful yukatas. Shamisen. Dances, drinks, nice food and lovely lamps. I sighed, stuck upon my rooftop, watching the clouds unveil the moon. The others were out this evening, but the gaijin stayed in. Captain's orders.
Fortunately, I had a great view over the bonfires that lit the hill east of Kyōto. The large kanji burning through the forest was part of the Daimonji festival; a tribute to the dead. It was only fitting that the captains would attend it, for they dealt it almost every day. There were five bonfires overall; I could spot at least two, and distinguish the light of the third one from my position on the outer wall.
That giant letter burning through the night was really impressive. The scent of distant smoke reached my sensitive nose, a reminder of past camping days in the wilds with a set of knights. Or hobbits, elves and dwarves. I missed them all, but such was the toll of my travels. To hop from family to family at the whim of the Valar. Already, I was becoming closer with the captains; Harada and Heisuke had been sad to leave me behind while they got to enjoy the night.
Kondō had not joined the celebration; whether to keep me company, or because his workload didn't allow him to go out, I wasn't sure. We spent many hours in his room, penning another set of letters, before he excused himself for the night. Until then, my bow for sole companion, I had settled over the roof of a nearby structure in full view of the street where my men would return.
My men, yes, the tenth company. And Chizuru.
I might have drifted off a few times; the stifling heat was, at last, abating, allowing for a little respite. How pathetic, the lonely guardian on the rooftop, dozing off! By now, I probably resembled more a miserable girl than the legendary Batman, watching out for innocents in Gotham city. Who cared, anyway, if I was lying down rather than standing with my cape billowing in the wind.
Ears strained, I still kept watch. As the night unravelled, I wondered if I should join Sanan-san. He, too, was restricted to the compound. A dead man would call for attention even more than a gaijin. Would he be grateful for the company, or would I just keep him from improving the Ochimizu Formula?
Somewhere, deep within, I knew something important would happen tonight. I wouldn't rest until Chizuru had returned. Of course, she couldn't be safer than with both Okita and Hijikata, but still… I worried. She'd seemed so radiant, this evening, as she prepared for the night. A lovely blush upon her cheeks when Okita had greeted her; she had been authorized to dress like a girl at last. I had helped her with the traditional updo, marvelling that her very straight hair took the abuse without flinching.
I wished I could have snapped a shot of Okita when he'd seen her, dressed in her colourful yukata. His coughing had abated a bit, the result of the newest protocol. Yet, neither of us three wanted to rejoice too much. It was too soon to know whether his body would be able to reverse the damage, and the antibiotic eradicate most of that blasted bacteria.
Sanan had allowed him to go out, but warned him against drinking. The young captain took the warning seriously. Good. Chizuru would be in good hands; I remarked he – almost – never turned his sarcasm against her. As if he knew how much damage he could inflict upon her fragile heart.
A faint sound called my attention back to the street. A voice, speaking softly, but deep enough to roll about the empty streets. The words drifted off in the night, like a song, with rhymes and lilts that made that voice even more beautiful. Still … the closer it got, the less sense it made.
Poetry! This was poetry, the infamous Haikus … of the Oni Vice commander. I squinted in the moonlight, finding his tall silhouette walking up to the compound's entrance. On his own. And probably drunk, from the way he rambled, and the wavering of his gait. Something steered within me, a protectiveness for a man I only partially understood, but had sided me when it mattered most. Ever since our spat, we had not exchanged a word with each other.
That damn man, walking alone, and half drunk!
I jumped from the low roof, landing with a discrete thud a dozen yards away from him. His blade was unsheathed before I could even say his name. I lifted an eyebrow, impressed by the reflexes of a man who couldn't hold his liquor. Oni no Fukuchō indeed.
"Kitsu !", he breathed, setting his katana aside. "You shouldn't sneak up on me."
He was the only one who never added an honorific to my name.
"I wasn't", I quipped. "I've been standing on that rooftop for a moment. This is hardly sneaking."
"Don't start nagging at me", he grumbled like a teenager.
I should have been amused, but somehow, his pique chaffed me the wrong way. I was only trying to knock some sense in his thick skull!
"Nagging? I haven't even started yet. What do you think you are doing, walking on your own and not at full ability. Did you learn nothing of the last ambush?"
His eyes flashed, and I found him more sober in aggression that I had surmised.
"Get back to your forest."
His childish insult betrayed his inebriated state more than his posture. They touched me more than they should have.
"Damn it, Hijikata! Do what I say, not as I do? You lecture Kondō-san, and dare walking alone?"
His sword came up; an invitation. Was it because I'd shed the – san aside? My spine stiffened as he bent his knees, supple like a young tree.
"Come and get me, Kistu", he slurred cheekily. "Not because I don't do patrol anymore I'm a sissy."
His word shocked me, but not as much as the aggressive stance. Hijikata was ready to spar, with me, with a real blade? How drunk was he, really? Drunk enough to reveal his weakness; he felt inadequate compared to his captains. Which was truly preposterous; he was the only one who'd kept Kazama from eviscerating us all.
Suddenly, the part of me that badly wanted to measure up to him – pride – got squashed with fear. I couldn't possibly fight him. Sparring, I'd learnt, needed the right conditions; proper light, known ground, blunt blades, shinai or wooden sword, and a good grasp on your abilities. None of those were reunited.
"I've heard much praise of your swordsmanship, Fukuchō. I've seen you in action. You have nothing to prove."
"Don't flatter me", he growled. "It doesn't become you."
Ah. There was the wolf of Mibu, the Oni I heard about. I couldn't help but shake my head; disappointment mingled with awe. The man that stood before me had shed the layers of propriety, unravelled his true nature to be, for once, the warrior instead of the Commander. As awesome as he was terryfing.
So the words that came out of my mouth were the wrong ones.
"You really are quick to anger."
He smirked, and in the dim light, I saw, for the very first time, the full extend of his possibilities. Sharp lines, intense eyes, pent up with anger, body coiled and energy building up. Hijikata was ready to explode.
"Aren't fights within the Shinsengumi forbidden?"
Hijikata's smirk grew.
"You are not part of the Shinsengumi."
Fuck. That stung. How could such a beautiful voice say such hurtful things?
I'd be stupid to think we were about to measure up. For Toshi stood before me, not Hijikata-san, the Fukuchō. And with him, all the frustration he had accumulated those past months. I also had my fair share of anger and aggression to work out, especially towards him. So, Frances also shed the layers of the Keeper of time; I unsheathed my blade.
We faced each other, for a moment, and the night turned silent. Nothing else mattered than his body, ready to spring. Than his blade, that slowly, but surely backed away in a graceful arch in an open guard. The breeze must have died; I didn't feel it anymore. The crickets had gone silent; I couldn't hear them. The moon just shone, washing the scene with its benevolent light, the witness to our folly.
Despite my vow to consider this fight personal, the elvish blade sang in my arms, humming all the way through my chest. I'm with you, it seemed to say.
I'm gonna need it.
Hijikata charged with a Kiai; I slid my blade against his, changing the angle. His momentum threw him off me, but he never offered his back to my retaliation. His blade came at me again, and again, relentless. I didn't want to hurt him, but the bastard was quick on his feet, and even faster with the katana. It came from all directions, dancing in his hands.
And I, danced with him, elvish sword at the ready, following its whims, analysing the quick work of my opponent. Little by little, Hijikata became the enemy. He pushed me so far, so fast, that I ended up on the defensive. Just when I feared I would have to resort to less savoury methods; I managed to pass his guard and push him away. He paused.
We both froze in the night, panting from the exertion. That damn humidity rolled down my spine, soaking my tunic. He didn't fare much better – how long had we been fighting? Thirty seconds ? My opponent sharply exhaled through his nose, then straightened.
"I'm done going easy on you, Kitsu."
I squeaked indignantly. What?
The next thing I knew, a blur descended upon me. There he was, the angel of death I'd witnessed in the last ambush. The only one that had the slightest chance to defeat an Oni. I kept up, just barely, unable to pull on my most nifty self defence tricks. My mind just couldn't keep up, he attacked with such aggressiveness, such purpose that my very soul begged me to surrender to his will. His overwhelming aura blurred my senses, and I mistepped. I retreated with a duck, hitting his ankle, hard, to allow me to roll.
His grunt of pain didn't deter him; he was upon me the next second. I blocked, twisting out of the way, only to find his blade at my throat. My dagger shot up to push it away; I went to shove his chest, only for his other hand to throw me off balance. I swore, twisting around, exhausted. Hijikata's loose strands stuck to his skull, but his eyes shone like a thousand gems.
Where Saitō's cold efficiency cut deep and fast, he was a storm unleashed. Skill, but so much more. He seemed to bend reality, and I, with my magical sword, found no opening to attack. When our blades met again, I realised that I was doomed to fail. For even worse than no opening, there was no way out.
My blade flew out of my hands a moment later, spinning in the night. I lifted my dagger with a shaky hand, ready to meet him. But the man wasn't looking at me. Instead, he watched my blade twirl and clatter on the cobblestones, the breeze dancing with his long ponytail, an air of satisfaction upon his face.
Draped in the warrior's aura, he didn't look human anymore. Then, he turned to me, and the air seemed to settle around him.
"Relax, Kitsu. I've never killed an unarmed woman."
I snorted, cluching my dagger. Unarmed, my ass! My lungs screamed for air as I sunk to my knees. Damn the man! Drunk, and still terrific with a blade. For a moment, none of us moved, albeit he was the only one still standing. Then, I bowed to him, deeply.
"I yield to your superior skill, Hijikata-san."
Your nickname doesn't only come from your awful temper, I mused.
The man snorted, then strode to me with purposeful strides. I cringed, awaiting the worst, but I was too spent to fight him anymore. Surprisingly, he grabbed my arm and he pulled me up with a grunt.
"Come, let's get some tea. I need to sober up."
I blinked at the familiarity of his touch, and the amusement that danced in his eyes. He truly was drunk, wasn't he? My puzzlement seemed to amuse him further, as I pointedly stated the obvious.
"You're still drunk, after this?"
"Hai. This is why I returned early."
I was dead on feet, but my wits were slowly returning. Without the numerous walls of propriety that usually kept me from expression my inners thoughts, I giggled.
"Tch", he said in this very special way the Japanese expressed exasperation.
I retrieved my blade on shaky legs, and followed him through the temple's door, eyeing the guards warily. Had they witnessed the legendary fight that had just occured a dozen yards away? I knew, at least, that they ignored I was perched upon the tiles earlier; they really needed to pay more attention to rooftops.
Hijikata led me to the garden where a stone bench overlooked a tiny area with bushes and high trees.
"Have you seen Yukimura? She makes the greatest tea."
"Chizuru and the others have not returned yet."
Hijikata pressed the bridge of his nose, a sign he remembered where he'd gotten drunk in the first place.
"Ah", he murmured. Somehow, the defeated sigh was my undoing, and I found myself smiling at his antics. It was nice to meet the man beyond the title.
"The infamous Oni doesn't handle alcohol that well."
His glare didn't impress me, this time. My muscles still felt like jelly, and he could end me right there if he wanted to. I was totally at his mercy.
"Don't worry", I stated. "I don't either."
Puzzlement replaced anger, his eyes opening. In the moonlight, I could clearly discern those impossible violet hues that littered his dark irises.
"You don't?", he questioned.
"No. But no one needs to know that a Kistune can't oudrink anyone under the table. That's why I always keep my glass full."
My eyes zeroed in on the well behind Hijikata, and I suddenly found the idea of a good draught of water very, very tempting. So I left him stewing upon the bench, and got to fetch a full bucket of fresh water. Well, fresher than my melting skin. I drank a few mouthfuls, and used some to splash my face before I brought the bucket to him.
"There. It will probably lessen the headache tomorrow."
The Commander watched me as if I'd grown two heads; he was probably wondering why I wasn't pissed at him for his earlier stunt. The truth was that exhaustion kept my aggression levels at minimum. Like a couple who'd yelled at each other for hours, or sent half the plates flying in the room, we didn't feel like fighting anymore.
So I just settled with giving him the bucket, and sitting beside him to enjoy the quiet of the night. Kyōto, 1867, was a beautiful place. Not devoid of darkness, of harshness. Beautiful nonetheless. And it harboured, in its heart, something far more precious than temples and monuments. The Shinsengumi's willingness to protect it.
Another chapter for my avid readers ! Thank you so much for your comments. I hope you enjoy this fighting session.