Ah, at last, a little rematch between Okita and Saitō.
The ache in my arms was lessening the more I trained Saitō's left-handed moves. Still… I felt a little stiff, so I had taken a break and helped Chizuru in the kitchen this evening. Dinner went smoothly enough; the tension of the impending clash between the Shōgunate troops and SatChō still hung in the air, but the captains knew better than to allow it to dampen their spirits.
Discussions flew around the room, the Baka trio fought over their plate, Hijikata remained silent, his eyebrows pinched in frustration while Kondō and Sanan discussed quietly. For my part, I tried to have a quiet conversation with Saitō over sword making when Okita interrupted us with his usual cheek. His eyes twinkled from this passive aggressiveness he wielded to perfection.
"You're chatting our ear off with elves, Kitsu. But I'm sure they're not as skilled as Saitō and I."
Well, where did that come from?
"Sōji!" Kondō frowned. A barb burnt my tongue as, indignant, I bristled in my seat. By my side, the quiet captain of the third unit frowned slightly.
"If those elves trained for centuries, surely their skill is unmatched."
I nodded briskly, the memory of seeing Elladan and Elrohir – Elrond's twins – spar quite vivid in my mind. But Okita had a point here; I'd left middle earth a long time ago. Trained with the Shinsengumi, and learnt new ways to defend myself. Yes, no one was as deadly as Legolas, Glorfindel or Elrond's twins. Not in this world. Even that impossible Kazama wouldn't have hold his ground for long.
But I was stuck, today, here. And I had learnt much from them all. Perhaps it was time to stop reminiscing, and accept that, my lot was to hone my skills the human way. So I shared a grin with the first division captain, and set my sights on something more realistic than explaining how much superior an elvish fighter would be.
"Actually, there was something I wanted to see…"
I turned to Kondō-san whose benevolent gaze rested upon me. Daring me to ask. Time was closing in; now or never, eh?
"I wanted to see you and Saitō-san spar, Okita-san."
Sōji's lips curled; I never used the honorific, and was borderline rude in my name calling sometimes. But he seemed to enjoy the challenge. His playful green eyes zeroed on Saitō by my side, disturbingly eager. Sometimes, I wondered if Okita was a sociopath; how did Chizuru handle such a personality!
"Whaddya think, Hajime-kun?" he smirked.
Saitō's only response was a slight bend of his head before he stood, his whole body keeping the posture while his long legs unravelled. How could he do that, exactly?
The Shinsengumi captains were no elves … but damn, they knew how to move.
"The training room is currently unoccupied."
Saitō left the common room, his bowl of rice thoroughly cleansed. I locked eyes with Hijikata at the head of our little gathering, only to find a slight smirk across his face. The commander stood, too, and gestured for me to follow. I did just that, trailing by his side on the engawa without another word shared.
"Well, this is going to be fun," Harada spoke, following in suit.
Once more, I marvelled at my ability to wreak havoc in a controlled environment. What was it, with my presence that brought every equilibrium to its breaking point, uh? The training room was a great hall with barely a few lanterns. Both Inoue-san – the sixth division discreet captain – and Heisuke lit some of them up as I stopped beside Hijikata.
"Don't impair yourself beyond measure," he commanded. "I'll need you at full capacity soon enough."
Sōji already had a bokken in hand when he sneered in our direction.
"Neeee, Hijikata-san, always the worrier."
Fukuchō rolled his eyes, but didn't respond to the jab; a very wise decision. Then the game was on. And I gasped. For as human as they were, both captains moved with incredible speed.
Blows should have landed, but found no one as Saitō dodged with liquid grace. Okita was more brutal, but no less agile as he jumped out of the way with catlike twists and that Cheshire grin that characterised him. Beside me, Chizuru's eyes were wide, her hands stuck over her mouth to avoid squeaking in fright every time a smack echoed in immense training room.
They skidded, attacked, parried and evaded faster than my mind could fathom. It rightfully put me in my place; Saitō was being very lenient with me. Those guys didn't need a second sword to be fucking deadly. One was more than enough to cover all areas; I only fought with two because I couldn't move like this.
My crushed ego didn't prevent me from finding patterns; there was an opening on Saitō's right side whenever he used Gatotsu. It was the only one I could see. Okita was trickier, more unpredictable, like a tornado unleashed. There were overtures. Many, actually, that would last just a breath and be closed an instant later. Only the fastest opponent would ever penetrate his guard, for they fleeted faster than lightning.
Still, it was extraordinary; I would never reach that kind of mastership. Fortunately, the elvish blade compensated with its guidance. This gave me an edge the others didn't have; my only chance against such experienced swordsmen. I understood, now, Hijikata's drunken bitterness on that moonlit night.
I risked a glance his way, finding his features slightly sour, but his eyes sparkling with wonder. Like a proud father watching his sons take flight, Hijikata, as much as Kondō-san, could only bow to the prowesses of their respective wards. Both had overtaken their masters. My hand twitched in loneliness; how I wanted to reach out and slid my fingers between Toshi's warm ones.
Secret relationships are no fun.
"Thwack !"
The loud smack called me back to the fight. The dizzying match went on for perhaps three long minutes; two dancers revolving around each other. It ended when Saitō actually ducked, at the latest moment, under Sōji's swing, effectively putting his blade across his ribs. Okita froze, smirk failing, before he shook his head.
"Tch, got me again, Hajime-kun."
The green of his eyes flickered with annoyance, and I watched them bow to each other. Both were sweating profusely, hair matted to their forehead. The two captains then smiled, and left the dōjō like the pair of mismatched friends they were.
"Do you understand why you taking down Saitō worried us?"
Hijiata's voice shook me out of my musings, hurling me face first into another set of considerations. I had known, at the time, that challenging that particular left-handed swordsman was cocky. Now that he had integrated my self defence moves, and was expecting it, I had no chance to defeat him, ever, again. Saitō wasn't a man to be vanquished by the same trick twice; he trained, trained and trained until his body moved by instinct.
Good thing I didn't know beforeheand.
I caught Hijikata's intense gaze and nodded.
"I do."
What else?
A hand landed upon my shoulder, and I slightly tensed before recognising this particular touch. Harada slightly shook me before he let go.
"Viens (Come on), Kitsu, we're up."
Right. Patrol this evening.
Hijikata only nodded to us, his face unreadable, but eyes worried. Did he expect trouble, or was he having a hunch? I had yet to ask him whether he had premonitions, or was just navigating by instinct.
"Be careful, the two of you."
And instead of calling him a mother hen, Harada returned his serious look and nodded.
"We will, Fukuchō."
And careful we were … even though trouble us found us nonetheless, it was handled swiftly. I noticed a pair of thugs shuffling a young couple in a back alley from my position on the rooftops, and didn't even waste a bullet to scare them away.
Me, standing over their heads in the moonlight, only had to use my reputation to make them tremble in their boots.
"The forest will swallow you," I growled, "and my mates will be pleased to tear you apart".
Wide, fearful eyes lifted to my dominant position over the alley, and the thugs took off at once yelling about 'Kitsune, kitsune'. I didn't even give chase, allowing my three 'tails' to dance in the wind for added effect; the tenth unit, twenty men, had both exits covered.
The thugs were apprehended with minimal damage – a busted lip, and an elbow to the stomach. Once I was sure that none of our men was in danger, I turned around to join Harada. The woman, though, called for me from the alley.
"Arigatō gozamaishita," she bowed, elbowing her companion in the process.
I stared at her lovely face, hoping, to all the Gods, that her companion and herself would be safe in the war that brewed at our doorstep.
"Thank the tenth unit of the Shinsengumi," I told them. As they bowed again, I added as an afterthought: "Go home, don't linger in the streets at night. And take off as soon as you hear the artillery."
Both their eyes were wide; I left them behind, hoping to never see the same gaze glazed and lifeless. Was there any chance to avoid combat in the streets of Kyōto? To avoid civilian deaths? Fat chance, I surmised as we retreated to the compound to hand over our prisoners.
Harada's features were grim as we walked up the street to headquarters. I bristled by his side. I'd been so caught up in my own musings that I had failed at acknowledging his own issues. This expression upon his usually cheerful face did not bode well.
"Qu'est ce qui ne va pas?" (What's wrong ?), I asked quietly, mindful of the men that walked a dozen feet behind us.
Harada gave me a surprised look, then his features softened when he realised what I was asking.
"Je demandais à Masa de partir pour Edo." (I asked Masa to depart to Edo)
This gave my mind a good shake. Damn, Edo, in the heart of winter with a three-month-old to care for, and no husband to follow. It probably was a heartbreaking decision, for the dangers on the road seemed pretty high compared to staying at home at a stone's throw from the compound. Still … if fighting began in the city, who knew what she'd have to face?
"You don't approve," he asked, wondering about my silence.
"I … actually do. It's probably the smartest move, but damn. Where will she go? Who will she travel with?"
The very idea of sending mother and son on the road caused me to shiver. Was it the cold moist getting to me? Harada sighed, his expression sending sharp stings in my bruised heart. Soldiers couldn't afford a family, right?
"I don't think my family would take her in. We were rather broke in the first place … and sent me away."
His voice trailed in the silence, drowned by the sound of twenty pairs of feet hitting the ground. It was just as well; Sanosuke not often spoke of the household he used to serve. But the stories of his abusive past always send cold shivers down my spine. How he'd grown to be such a fine, responsible man was beyond me. Harada deserved the world, and I raged that I couldn't give it to him.
"So, where to?", I asked.
"Shinpat's said his sister could host her for a while. They will still be a burden, but it's better than dead."
Good old Nagakura. His family wasn't rich, per se, but their statuts was higher. That Baka trio never ceased to amaze me – brothers in arms to the end - and I nodded with a semi-smile.
"When?", I asked, at loss for better words. When will you send your wife and son on a five hundred kilometres trek?
"When the Edo troops approach Kyōto," he said grimly. "Probably next week. Many people will leave, I'll send her with the flow."
"Good call…", I responded, feeling torn with the idea of little Shigeru exposed to the winds. In this moment, as my feet kept moving on instinct, I didn't quite know what else to say.
"You're doing the best thing for them both, you know that?"
The man actually chuckled, grabbing my shoulders and pulling tight just like he did with Heisuke or Nagakura. When he released me, though, doubt was creeping into his gaze again.
"It's good to hear. I'll pay a pair of youngsters from our neighbourhood to keep her safe. Hopefully they'll do their jobs right in fear of retaliation."
What was left unsaid were how much would be left for expenses on the road. Food, clothing if needed, emergency stipend. Where would they sleep? Eat? What would they bring?
"Can I contribute?" I blurted out.
Harada's features closed off and I realised, too late, that this was a question of honour. Accepting money from me should put him in my debt, even though I would never call it. But war didn't quite care for honour, it just broke everything in its wake, like a devastating river rushing down a broken dam. So I dared, this time, pushing my luck.
"Your family is precious Sano." It was the first time I called him by his nickname, and this caught his attention. "You are like a brother to me. My family … we always share burdens when it comes to money. It feels only fitting that I would contribute to ensure their safety."
Harada observed me for a long moment as we walked in the moonlight, our breath creating volutes in the cold. Eventually, he nodded with the ghost of a smile playing over his lips.
"Then I would be honoured."
All was said and laid to rest then, the offer accepted. As relative silence engulfed us once more, I roamed my brain to see whether I could spare anything. Travelling light meant no extra items, but I could maybe part with this Norwegian woollen scarf I carried around. It was soft, and hot as hell – fine wool and silk – and would protect their son effectively.
Yes, I nodded, this could do. And if, by any chance, I really needed another, I'd find a way to procure a new one. After all, I didn't fear the cold so much. Kyōto was nowhere as cold as Norway anyway; I could handle it, right?
We passed the gates of the compound with our prisoners, and allowed the men to disperse to get a much-needed rest. For a moment, Harada and I remained in the courtyard where we'd fought those infamous Oni, a silent conversation passing through our gazes. Was it the last patrol? His shoulders dropped after a while, unaffected by the chill in the air.
"I'll owe you one, Kitsu."
I shrugged.
"Please, as if you didn't save my life a hundred times over."
"It is different," he retorted. "Brothers in arms watch their backs, but we don't share money."
His pointed look got me laughing; I'd heard about Nagakura's tendency for gambling since Heisuke always complained he had to pay for meals. True enough, the knights of the round table didn't pay rounds either; money was money. Less precious than life, but it had its own separate status.
"Make sure to keep enough for your own expenses."
I snorted. My expenses were reduced to buying sweets and booze for Fukuchō since I couldn't get out during the day. Suddenly, I felt like returning the trust he'd gently laid at my feet by accepting my help. So I turned my head in direction of the commander's rooms, and smirked.
"I guess Toshi will have to go without treats for a while," I murmured. Had my friend caught my very circumvoluted drift? Harada's lips quirked, his eyes twinkling in the night.
"Aha, what's that about…?" The sentence went unfinished; he didn't want to voice it out loud. I rushed to cut him off.
"Things that I shouldn't tell you, but trust you not to breathe to a soul."
"So that's the understanding you found…"
I nodded, and he returned that shy smile of his. I understood why Masa looked upon him as if he was her sun. Aside from being terribly good-looking, Harada owned a heart of gold, and the mind to match it. When he reached down to pat my head, I smiled to myself. This was a strange habit that most modern woman would recoil at, but it meant affection so I rolled with it.
"He will never say so," Sanosuke added for my benefit. "But he hates the cold. And he needs to relax, a bit. Perhaps you can pull his head off his… paperwork for a bit."
Paperwork.
Okita would have said a very different thing but Harada was always respectful of Hijikata; they trusted each other implicitly. When I lifted my head, my friend's expression looked almost … relieved? In this moment, I knew that my message had gone across. Harada wouldn't breathe a word of my secret, but his eyes thanked me for trusting him with the information.
I left him behind with a lighter heart, my feet carrying me to the next best room after mine. The one with a live bed warmer, and dark hair spilling upon the futon, and a voice to die for.
Poor Harada, my heart aches for him. Anyway... review ?