Ok, I'm making a few adjustments regarding the original scenario, but it makes more sense because I do ignore whatever brought Kondō-san to Nijo castle given the Shōgun wasn't there anymore. But he was in Ōsaka, and intended to defy the restoration.
As soon as I set foot in the common room, a familiar voice sing songed:
"You've got bed head, Kitsu…"
Nailed.
Damn that brat. I'd stolen Toshizō writing brush to sweep my hair into a hasty bun because I had so much trouble extricating myself from his sheets; they smelt like him. I glared at Okita, catching a sneaky glance from the Vice Commander at the corner of my eye.
"Better than yours," I retorted hotly.
Okita's smirk didn't abate, but he lifted his hands in surrender.
"Wow, kaa-chan ! Wrong side of the futon this morning?"
"Stop calling me that, sushi-brat."
By my side, Saitō chortled, and I didn't get time to check he hadn't drowned in his soup when Heisuke's boisterous laughter rang out. A tiny spark of hope infused me; that kid amused me so much before he became a Rasetsu. To hear him laugh so freely was a gift, even though it meant exchanging barbs with Okita.
"No way, it's just too funny."
Ah, Sōji wasn't done with the teasing. I stole a glance at Chizuru by his side; her shoulders were hunched and she nibbled on her lip. Poor kid, how did she get tangled with such a bully? My eyes returned to Sōji and I pondered the idea to throw in his face the fact I'd never want a child like him. But given his abandonment issues… no. Bad idea. So I just smirked evilly, as if I was preparing revenge so despicable that it filled me with satisfaction.
From the high table, Sanan chuckled.
"I wouldn't push too far, Okita-kun, Kitsu-kun can be pretty devious whenever she wants to."
Okita paled one notch; his Nii-san's intervention always got to him, even though he was twisting the truth. I was as blunt as they came, couldn't make a good prank to save my life, and never attacked in the back. But this, Okita didn't know; Sanan was counting on it to instil a little fear. It worked, for the captain narrowed his eyes.
"The two of you are creepy enough as it is," he mumbled.
One conspirationnal look between the spectacled man and myself effectively shut him up. Sanan was devious, and he saved my ass so often that I really needed to find a way to thank him … other than plunge my blade into his heart, that is.
By his side, Hijikata took a sip of his tea, features stern, but eyes flickering with both amusement and exasperation. I returned to my rice balls as the Baka trio started stealing each other's food. The commotion lasted for a while, and I realised I had become nearly impervious to their antics; my ears didn't bleed anymore.
When Kondō walked into the room and took his seat, the noise level abated a bit. He cleared his throat once, and silence fell.
"As some of you may already know, the Shōgun had decided to defy the restoration. The ports of Hyōgo and Ōsaka had just opened to foreign ships, officially, for trade. But the British fleet is large, and currently nestled in Ōsaka. The situation is dire."
My heart plummeted in my heels. That was it. From the grimness of most of the captains, I wasn't the only one whose instincts screamed 'war'. How strange, to think that I had fought beside the British nary sixty years ago against a French privateer. I had sometimes troubles understanding the purpose of my missions…
But Kondō wasn't done; his next announcement, though, struck me speechless.
"I have been summoned at Ōsaka. I shall depart in the afternoon, and might return a few days hence."
I groaned. Of course, his unyielding loyalty would push him to abide by the orders of our supreme chief. I locked eyes with Okita whose slight fidgeting told me it worried him. I stole a glance at Toshizō and found his knuckles white on the tea cup. Any more, and the ceramic recipient would shatter. Sanan's expression, on the other hand, gave nothing away.
A heated discussion ensued about where the Shōgun was – in Ōsaka – and why the hell did they need our Kyokuchō to cross miles through a town now held by the SatChō. I never thought I'd see the day when Kondō Isami threw a fit of temper, but he did. His eyes flashed with anger, no longer kind, and his voice rose in the room.
"That is enough! I will perform my duty to the Bakufu, and you shall perform yours," he ground out. His outburst shut everyone up. Well, almost everyone. Hijikata, who had been silent until then, snapped.
"Then at least take a freaking division!" he thundered, his voice rolling over me like a storm.
Kondō turned to him, unimpressed by the tantrum.
"We can't afford to weaken headquarters, Toshi."
Oni no Fukuchō actually growled, but his mouth remained firmly shut. His anger, though, swirled around him like a storm.
I sighed, trying to abate the tension that tightened my chest. Out of those three, I wondered which was the most stubborn. Sanan, Hijikata and Kondō could actually butt heads forever without any of them conceding to the other. All in a different style, of course. Sanan would sway and bend like the wind, only to bite you in the ass. Hijikata would storm his way in until there was not a plant left. But Kondō… Kondō would just nudge, and steer you in the direction he wanted without even having to battle. Such was the strength of his conviction, and the power of his heart.
Fukuchō sighed, and I pondered on the wiseness of putting in my two cents in the discussion. Sanosuke, already, was frowning at the back of the room. Shinpachi had forgotten about his food fight, and didn't seem too eager to hear that the Shōgun was backing away from his initial position. Beside Sanan, Shinpachi was probably the only one that grasped fully all the implications of such an historical event. I, for one, was completely lost.
As chatter started at the back of the room, I gathered my courage and called to the Captain.
"Kyokuchō."
Kondō lifted his eyes from his bowl.
"Hai, Kitsu-chan?"
Chan. Sneaky man. He used that suffix to mark closeness, and his superior knowledge. Subtle, very subtle… But I wasn't about to back away.
"I must concur with Fukuchō here. I fear the SatChō forces might take advantage of the situation. The risk of an ambush is high. A division might not even be enough to protect you."
Hijikata slid a glance to Kondō, but the man only smiled at me.
"Don't worry, Shimada-kun and his men are finding a safe route as we speak. I trust him with my life."
Way to back me in a corner here.
If I protested, I insulted Shimada's honour. I bristled in my seat, and roamed my mind to find an appropriate protest when Okita laughed. It wasn't a happy sound, and I caught his eyes. He, too, was worried. But the child in him viewed Kondō-san as a God, an untouchable man, THE father figure. Accepting danger was impossible; it would mean considering his potential death. And this, Sōji couldn't handle.
"Neee, kaa-chan. You and Hijikata-san are two worrywarts."
"Shut up, Sōji!" we both exclaimed at the same time.
Sanan and Kondō laughed in unison, amused by our similar reaction. Toshizō and I exchanged a loaded look, and returned to our food. Kyokuchō was stubborn as a mule; there was nothing we could do save from beating him unconscious. And from the sour look in my man's eyes, he was considering it.
The next morning.
Toshizō's lips were pursed, his jaw clenched, and I was dying to grasp his fist, unwrap every single one of his fingers and slide mines in between. Unfortunately, there were witnesses. So I kept a respectful distance, standing three feet away, and one behind him as Kondō mounted the enormous beast that would carry him to Ōsaka.
I wasn't happy about it.
Oni no Fukuchō, even less.
War was brewing, so close that it already simmered in the streets. Even though Shimada Kai was by his side, neither of us felt comfortable with his diminutive escort.
"Kondō-san," Hijikata attempted by my side. "Please consider again. War could break at any moment…"
"All the more reason to keep our men here, Toshi."
There was wisdom in those words … but such blatant disregard for his own safety was truly unacceptable. Before Toshizō could explode, I took a step forward and grabbed the reins of the great beast.
"Then allow me to accompany you. As your page."
Hijikata stiffened by my side.
"You know you can't, Kitsu," he said. I whirled around, finding his intense eyes set upon my face. Both relief and regret swirled within their depth, and I wondered if he would have trusted me enough with Kondō's safety. The issue was…
"Hai," Kondō confirmed. "Or have you forgotten why Iba-san visited us?"
The Shōgun wants me. Ugh!
"And you'll stand out in plain sunlight."
A fresh wave of anguish washed over me, and I suddenly felt like yelling like a banshee. Why? Eleven months I'd been scooped inside the Shinsengumi compound, hiding myself like a prisoner. And now that I had a chance to repay Kondō's kindness, I couldn't even set a foot out. Dejection caused my whole posture to sag, and unwelcome tears moistened my eyes. I blinked them away.
"Jeez. I've never been shunned because of how I look. How I dress, sometimes. How I speak, my lack of manners… But never because of who I am."
The men wouldn't look me in the eyes, and my voice rose with rightful indignation.
"It hurts, you know, that xenophobia."
Damn. It had taken nearly a year for me to say such, but that whole gaijin stupidity really got to me. After all, with the war coming in, would I really be arrested if I set foot outside? I shook my head; the patriotists – Satsuma and Chōshū – would have a field day with me. They strictly followed the Sonnō jōi; it was hopeless.
At last, Kondō caught my gaze from atop his horse, and send me one of his most heartfelt smiles. It failed at cheering me up, but it still managed to make me feel better; the man was magical, did he even know it ?
"I'll take you to the shrine on the night of New Year, Kitsu-chan. As my page."
I should have rejoiced at the idea of this little escapade, hidden in the crowd as the 108 bells rang the arrival of another year. Should have nodded in enthusiasm at the idea of wearing that beautiful kimono they offered me, many months ago. Should have … except that…
It will not happen.
Cold sweat dripped down my spine at the realisation; I'd never go to the shrine with Kondō-san. I just didn't know why. Such was the curse of my intuitions about the future. I knew it, like the sun rose in the east. My chest clenched, trying to swallow the reality. I bowed, hoping he would interpret it as gratitude, and strode away to my room. My mind kept running, so I changed into a set of working out clothes and starting training my classical routine.
Turn, turn, arabesque. Turn, turn, piqué, retiré, attitude. Sweat drenched my clothes, and I kept going, hoping to put worries away. Hoping, to all the Gods, that I was wrong.
Wrong, just like when you sensed Tristan's demise?
Shut up, you treacherous mind!
Wrong, just like when you felt you would die in Toshi's arms?
Try as I might, my mind just kept running. I knew, at once, who was behind the shōji screen when it was pushed away. Hijikata strode into my room as if he owned the place. He wasn't wrong, he owned me too. We always bunked in his room, and he never had quite the occasion to linger in mine; it would seem too obvious. The fact that he sought me out today was worrying enough.
I froze in my attitude, leg held high as he closed the door behind with a flick of his wrist and came to stand before me. Then, he extended his hand and I gratefully intertwined our fingers, dipping in what started as a bow, but finished in a full split arabesque. The warm contact kept me grounded as I finished the pose, chest heaving from the strain.
Will I ever breathe properly again?
Then, I allowed my body to return to a neutral position, but didn't relinquish his fingers. For a moment, we just faced each other, attached through such a little surface, but such a great connection.
His dark eyes caught mine, a question written upon his features.
What happened ? So I spoke.
"This is not happening. Kondō's promise for new year."
Toshizō's eyebrow lifted, a thunderous expression taking over his features. I knew what he was about to say, something about forbidding us both to leave the compound when our enemies held most of Kyōto. He didn't understand; I had to be more explicit.
"It is not happening as in, the events that will unfold will ensure he won't take me out for New Year."
This time, his eyes flashed with recognition. And shock. If I'd had an inkling about his abilities, I had just mentioned, in passing, that being the Keeper of Time came with certain perks regarding the future. Namely, having visions and intuitions that sometimes allowed me to change events. Obviously, the Vice Commander had connected the dots easily enough.
"Do you feel something, Kitsu?" he pressed. "Do you know what's going to happen to Kondō-san?"
I sighed, passing a hand over my sweaty brow.
"No. It could be anything. From me dying, to him dying…" Toshizō flinched, his hand squeezing mine more tightly. But I wasn't finished. All hypothesis had to be considered. " … to war breaking, to the shrine being destroyed, to the government changing calendar, to a sprained ankle … anything. I just know it won't happen, and it makes me crazy to not know why."
"I know how you feel."
That effectively shut me up; this was a confirmation of what I suspected.
"You have glimpses of the future, haven't you?", I asked, watching his face morph into a thoughtful expression. This gift could sometimes be a curse. Worse, I struggled so much to differentiate those intuitions from my own line of thoughts. How about those blond children Toshi had talked about? How could I have children if I died on the battlefield?
Somehow, we were in conflict. Unless that particular idea about children were just a vision of my past self – blond curls and all.
"Hai. It comes as feelings most of the time. It's not always clear, but I have learnt to trust my instincts."
In other words, he now took into account his visions. Little wonder the Shinsengumi had remained so safe while fighting a never-ending war with the patriots. Oni no Fukuchō indeed. That very idea, though, sent a smile to my lips. I sat up, crossing my legs, and pulled upon his hand. Toshizō relented, if only for a minute, and settled beside me.
"You're the first person I meet that shares that ability. I never thought I would find someone like me."
"Likewise," he responded. The dark blanket of depression was replaced – temporarly – with excitement. Even though I'd suspected it for a while, to have it confirmed opened a whole new range of possibilities.
"Give me an example, anything, of how you used it," I asked. I wanted to know if he struggled like I did, or if his gift gave cleared indications than mine. Toshizō actually smiled.
"I sent Harada with Sōji and Saitō the day they found you. I knew Sano would be the key to whatever was supposed to unfold."
I gaped, floored by the implications of his confession. Had Harada not been there to pull me out of the river… "You saved my life."
He nodded in assent. And perhaps, at the time, he'd kicked himself for doing such a thing. Had I died against the Rasetsu, the thorn in his side would have been easier to handle.
"No regrets?", I asked.
His hand slid across my shoulders, pulling me close. Then, his fingers lifted my chin; his intense gaze caught mine as he searched for something in the depth of my eyes. I enjoyed the breath fanning upon my cheeks, the faint scent of his skin swirling around me, and the secure grip across my upper back.
"None," he breathed before sealing his lips to mine.
Some of you must know that Hijikata had a certain sense, especially when it comes to his death. They found a death poem fastened to his uniform the day he died.