And now exploring Kondo's point of view :)
Disappointment and amusement mingled in my mind, taking turns as I levelled both my wards with the harshest glare I could muster.
Sōji, trouble maker and adoptive son in all but name, didn't seem at all apologetic. But the slight dip of his shoulders told me he took the scolding at heart. Sanan and I were the only ones to have a sway in his behaviour; his thick skull otherwise ignored anyone else. Even Hijikata, Oni no Fukuchō, feared and revered through Kyōto and beyond, was helpless when it came to Sōji-kun.
Was it because, as Sanan pointed out often enough, he was too kind-hearted ? Or perhaps, as Kitsu exclaimed after kneeing Sōji in the privies, because I had been at fault and never enforced the code upon him? If the Kyokuchō didn't do his part, how could Fukuchō, my right hand, do anything about it?
I knew I delegated the dirty works to both Sanan and Hijikata. Knew they tried to shelter me; I'd been too lenient in allowing it. And this was biting me in the ass.
"How could you, Sōji-kun? How could you attack one of our own?", I sighed.
"She's not…"
I interrupted his easy drawl with a mighty bellow.
"Don't you dare finish that sentence!"
Both Sanan and Hijikata started by my side, thoroughly stunned by the unusual outburst. Sōji's eyes, though, tore my heart in a thousand pieces. His dejected look wrecked me worse than any blow he would ever deal. Betrayal and anger intertwined, as if I had turned my back on him. Didn't he realise that my failure was already too plain? That disciplining him was an act of love ?
"As for you, Kitsu-chan, I expected better of you."
She remained straight faced, and nodded stiffy.
"I apologise for losing my temper, and will take any punishment you see fit."
I struggled not to smile; she sounded so much like our Fukuchō, stern and serious. Toshizō, though, was nearly shaking by my side.
"You know the punishment for fighting amongst ourselves is Seppuku," he stated, nearly choking on the words.
I sent him a startled look. Surely he did not intend to enforce that piece of the code ? Despite my feigned obliviousness, I knew he and Kitsu sometimes shared a bed. Actually, their bond ran much deeper than that, but it wasn't my place to comment. Given Kitsu didn't take advantage of this connection to escape the rules, I had nothing further to say. She was good for Toshi; his temper was less short, the circles under his eyes less pronounced.
Hope bloomed in his eyes anew.
Did he really think we would order her death?
"Well. Given I'm the Shinsengumi's usual kaishakunin, perhaps we should do it sequential? I can cut Kitsu's head, and Ne-san can do mine," Sōji drawled. "He's the only one I trust with it after all…"
Chills ran up my spine at the very idea of watching Sanan cut Okita's head on MY order. The child I'd raised from his ninth year, and supported as he grew up. The youth I was so proud of for holding his ground, and never backing down when everything was against him.
"Tch," Toshizō scoffed, short of breath.
I knew my best friend well enough; he was panicking inwardly, and showing nothing of it. Even though he didn't flaunt it, Toshi always protected Okita when I couldn't.
"I'm not having you as my kaishakunin," Kitsu protested, shaking me out of those horrible thoughts. "You'd miss me on purpose."
"I am wounded, Kitsuneko. I take that role very seriously."
"Don't I know it…", she sighed.
And I knew to what she referred to; her second month in the Shinsengumi had thrown her in the thick of it with that seppuku ceremony. But she'd held her head high, and I respected her for it.
"Ask Sanan-san then," Sōji quipped, as if speaking of the weather rather than decapitation. "He'll be more detached than Hijikata-san…"
I caught Toshi's agonised gaze and read it easily; Oni no Fukuchō would do it. He would order the death of his little brother, and the woman he loved to keep the Shinsengumi alive, even though we were on the brink of destruction. It would crush him, and he would do it all the same.
It was my part, for once, to save the three of them. Only Kyokuchō could, in times like this, show leniency … which Toshi would grab with both hands because we all knew he hated the idea of hurting his own men, let alone his woman.
"You know," Sōji added, oblivious to our silent conversation. Or perhaps, too aware of the effect of his words upon us. " … given you're banging him."
"We all caught your drift well enough, Sōji-kun," Sanan eventually cut in. "Be assured that none of use commanders are learning anything."
The silky tones were laden with ice, the edge dangerous enough to have Sōji drop the usual smirk, and show his hand.
"How about the code, then? If the commanders don't stick to it, it means nothing!"
Hijikata flinched by my side; he'd ordered the death of his men for less than this. The very fact that he had allowed his guard to drop with Kitsu was the testimony of how much he trusted her. I pressed my hands upon my temples, wondering how to escape that damn hole when the Colonel, once more was our saving grace.
"There are no rules against members of the Shisengumi bunking in for the night. Harada and Shinpachi share a room, and so do many of our men in winter."
Brilliant!
I found my shoulders relaxing; the Kami bless the cunning man who had pledged his intelligence to our cause. Yes. Now that Kitsu was a vice-captain, she was to be treated as such. The men bunked in winter, and it wasn't any different … well, probably different, but I wasn't going to delve upon those thoughts. People's tastes … ahem. Taboo.
Pulling myself from those – very – disturbing thoughts, I watched Sōji shrink under Keisuke's gaze. The Colonel wasn't done with Sōji, and I only realised how pissed he was with him when the hammer fell down … with its usual grace.
"Or would you prefer I ask Yukimura to freeze to death in her own quarters as well?"
What? What did it have with…
Sōji actually stammered this time as Frances chuckled by his side. While my thoughts whirled around this new piece of information – was my son in love? Was he sharing a room with Chizuru-chan? — Hijikata cleared his throat by my side.
"As for fighting amongst each other…"
I intervened at once, sobered up by what was to come.
"There will be no seppuku, if only because you've been lucky enough that no one knows about it. But this will be the last offence, for both of you. Is that clear?"
The strength of my conviction caused both of their heads to drop. It was the first time I scolded Kitsu, and she nodded soberly. If I trusted her to mind her temper in the future, my eyes searched for Sōji's expression; he seemed to have caught my drift. It was the last time I allowed him to do as he pleased. The little boy was pissed, but the man seemed to soar underneath.
Now, he was one of us, with equal treatments and responsibilities.
"As for punishment," Hijikata sternly said. "You'll be in charge of cleaning the dōjō and cook for the next fifteen days. Inoue-san shall coordinate you."
This was an excellent idea, and I wondered if he'd just invented this on the spot, or had in store with hopes to escape the seppuku treatment. Either way, it fitted the spirit.
"You will learn to work together," I added with conviction, as if we had decided upon this all along. "If we want to survive, we cannot afford to divide. Understood?"
"Hai, Kyokuchō," Kitsu-san responded, bowing low with her hands upon the tatami. Sōji, for his part, had resumed his provocative and relaxed pause.
"Neee, Hijikata-san. You are getting creative in your punishments."
"Don't grate on my nerves," he barked. "Or you'll serve under Sanan-san."
A smile bloomed on my lips, echoing to the slight smirk that lifted Keisuke's own.
"I might actually need the help with the rasetsu corps. I am sure I can find some use for Sōji."
The threat, delivered with the usual smoothness, did wonders for Okita's posture.
"That's all right, Sanan-san. I shall help Kitsu, and we'll become best friends. But Chizuru-chan is going to be upset that we steal her chores."
"She'll get the damn rest she deserves," Toshi grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dimissed."
His tone left no room for argument, and I was glad that, for once, Sōji didn't attempt to rile him up. As both our charges closed the door behind them, the three of us shared a sigh of relief. Disaster averted. A swell of gratefulness rose in my chest for having those two friends by my side. Even though the events were precipitating us into chaos, I'd never found such goal oriented, sturdy people anywhere else.
Before I could open my mouth to thank them, Sōji's annoying tones rose from the engawa.
"So kaa-chan…", he started.
My eyebrows rose. Kaa-chan ? What was this about?
"Yes, sushi?" she responded, her tone sickly sweet.
I chuckled at the jab, watching an amused twinkle settle in Toshi's eyes.
"What?" he hissed. "What did you call me?"
I held my breath, wondering if the truce was already over. Already, Sanan's body tensed; he was ready to spring to avoid Hijikata to bash them both on the head.
"New nickname. Only fitting since you can't remember mine."
This was the moment of truth; if he retaliated, I knew nothing would save Sōji, not even our love combined. How would his pride handle it?
"Ne, Kitsu, you are devious."
She seemed to soften behind the screen, and I could easily paint her expression right now. Eyes squinting in both amusement in fondness.
"Yes, Sōji?"
"Nothing, let's go. We've got work to do."
I deflated on the cushion, releasing that breath I'd been holding with so much conviction. Even Itō-san had been easier to deal with. As my eyes roamed across my friends, I suddenly felt very, very tired.
"How about a drink?"
They both groaned in agreement.
"Poor Inoue-san," Sanan-san mused.
Toshi snorted.
A few days passed; I took to speaking to Gen-san every day so that he could keep me appraised on my two wayward charges' progress. Frances still came to my office before dinner in case I needed her to write correspondence or organise papers, but she remained pretty tight-lipped regarding her work with Sōji. Other than the occasional 'it's going well', I surmised I'd had to throw an eye for myself.
This is how I wandered this very evening, chilled to the bone in my heavy haori, around the training room. Facing my failings meant I must stay true to my resolve; being a general might be an unattainable dream, but guiding Sōji felt almost as important. So, instead of dumping this task on Toshi who would struggle with my ward's hot headedness, I decided to handle it myself.
From where I stood, I could hear Kitsu sing as she cleaned in a language I couldn't understand. The crystalline tones surprised me; they sounded so different from the Geisha's. Her voice rose so easily, echoing like a high-strung chord. The melody was also, very foreign. Suddenly, the memory of her scrunched nose as she listened to Kimigiku made much more sense; everything was strange to her.
She was just as strange to us. Her culture, her clothes, her opinions … the way she stood up to Toshi in his fits of anger without flinching. I paused beside the entrance, listening to that voice that seemed to fly to the heavens. It wavered, sometimes; perhaps because she didn't master it, or just from the repetitive work of scrubbing wooden planks. Pure joy laced in; she wasn't even forcing it, her voice just took off like a bird fancying a few loops in the sky. Free.
This strange singing touched me. Different was good; it might keep Toshi afloat when we eventually dived in the chaos. I wasn't as naïve as they thought; the Shōgun had abdicated, then hoped to return in full force. War was inevitable, and alliances as fleeting as leaves in the wind.
"Do you always have to sing when you work?"
I frowned; Okita's grating tones had interrupted Kitsu's lyrics so brutally. When did I allow him to become so callous, so incredibly rude? The fact that he usually behaved in my presence had kept me blind to Toshi's complains. If I'd been in the young woman's place, I might have snapped back. But she only snorted good-naturedly.
"Snow White did."
Deflection through a reference of her own culture; subtle rudeness, to counterbalance blatant aggression. Sōji only grunted, and she laughed.
"Yes, I do. Want to join?"
The invitation struck him speechless.
A moment of silence passed, and she resumed singing without a care in the world. After a while, though, something incredible happened. Another hum started outlining her words, growing and growing until it was powerful enough to mingle with her line. Of course, Sōji didn't know the words, but he'd caught the tone well enough.
Kitsu paused, then, probably as surprised as I was.
"It was worth saving those lungs of yours, Okita. You are a very good singer. Fancy adding the battery?"
A few mumbles reached my ears and I slid my feet upon the engawa to approach, mindful to remain concealed behind a pillar. The sight that greeted me floored me. Sōji sat, Kitsu kneeling in front of him with a sincere smile. Then, she started tapping upon the wooden planks to imitate a set of drums. Caught in the game, Sōji imitated her until they synchronised.
And laughed…
Then, her voice rose again to the heavens, and he followed. His tones were rich, and so powerful that they echoed far beyond the training room. With her high pitch, they created a harmony that almost brought tears to my eyes.
No matter the language, their voices had found a way to work together.
Hey, I advise you listen to that song while you read the last part of this chapter. It's easy to sing, even though you don't know the words. A soprano and a baritone can pull it off easily.
watch?v=zxjvNUNXhkU