Toshizō's body was a work of art, and the yearning to explore all of him had finally been answered. My fingers danced upon every ridge, every plane, every valley, massaging the stiffness away, caressing to my heart's content. Sometimes, my ministrations wrenched a groan out of his throat, reverberating through my body as I applied pressure along his spine. I revelled in those deep, masculine sounds as my hands feasted upon pale skin, eager to recall the shiatsu classes of my youth to the living eye candy that was Hijikata Toshizō. The dull ache in my fingers did not matter; the present of his trust took precedence over every inconvenience.
As he groaned, once more, I gently laid over him and whispered in his ear:
"I'm going to need your poetic talents."
"You may as well walk to battle naked," he chuckled.
I rolled my eyes; some said he was bad at poetry. Given I was so much worse, I loved hearing his haikus. That poetic side was cute, and no matter what people thought, I relished in the fact he would express himself aside from anger.
"Help me find a name for my blade ?"
A thoughtful hum greeted my request, and I took a moment to relish in the living, warm bundle of muscles that moved with every breath under my body.
"Hai," he eventually responded. "This I can do. How about… something to do with the light ?"
The answer struck me in the face with such strength that I shot upwards, jostling his hips in the process. It was so obvious that I couldn't fathom how it had escaped me all this time. A tribute to both Aragorn – and his sword andúril – and the people of Japan whose guidance had turned the elvish weapon into a flaming blade.
"Oh my god, you are incredible !" I squirmed before his painful grunt wrenched me back to reality.
"Sorry, sorry."
"Do not mind my crushed bones…" he whined. "What did you decide ?"
"Azuma no hōno," I stated proudly. Flame of the east.
Satisfied with my epiphany, I returned to coiled muscles and sanity skin, revelling in the soft moans that rose from under his waterfall of jet black hair. Toshizō melted under my touch, his breathing deep and even as my hands ran over him.
Eventually I slid sideways, keeping contact with long, sensual strokes across his back, then digging in his unbound hair. He faced away from me, allowing me to play with his luxuriant tresses to my heart's content. I spilled the ebony waterfall over relaxed muscles before I reached for the kakebuton. As I leant over, my hand lightly brushed his flank. Toshizō almost bolted away from the touch and I chuckled.
"Ticklish ?"
A grunt was my only response as he settled again, and I filed the information for later. For now, all my hard work had been undone. So, the flurry of caresses started anew, this time under the warmth of shared bedding, the hibachi our sole source of light as time remained suspended.
A move was planned to the Fushimi magistrate on the morrow; we would probably bunk in with the others. Tonight, was out last night together, huddled in his room, hidden from the world. I suspected it to be the reason for his acquiescence – at last – that I massage his worries away, amongst other things. Minutes tickled slowly, lulled by the cracking embers, as I explored the skin of his back with delight.
Had he fallen asleep ? My touches became lighter as I slid my fingers around his taut waist, marvelling at the warmth he exsudedm. I was about to call it a night and claim his shoulder when his voice rose in the silence.
"You must go, Kitsu," he breathed.
Taken aback, I resorted to humour to hide my wounded heart.
"Was the massage so bad that you want me gone ?"
A deep sigh shook his frame as he shifted to the side, brushing his hair behind his delicious shoulder to face me. For a moment, I felt my brain short circuit as I cupped his jaw. In the dancing lights of the hibachi, features relaxed, he looked like a carving. My finger followed his straight nose, sliding over smooth eyebrows that furrowed way too often. And, true to himself, a crease formed on his forehead.
"This is escalating fast, Kyōto is about to turn into a battlefield."
"And where would I go, love ?"
The english nickname failed at mellowing his mood; his eyes simmered like coals in the night.
"Anywhere but here. Anywhere safe. We are not an army, Kitsu, the Shinsengumi were never meant to go to a war."
It was my turn to frown. What was he saying ? That he wanted me gone rather than by his side in this conflict ?
"In this, I have more experience than you do," I reminded him. I'd fought in three wars after all. For once, Toshizō wasn't staring me down, but the intensity of his gaze was still jarring. His irises were so full in the dark, masking the tight circle of purple hues that sometimes inhabited the depth of his soul.
"I know you've been to war before, but…" the rumble of his voice died as he averted his eyes.
I didn't give him time to argue his point. Middle earth had introduced me to the gruesomeness of war, and fighting beside King Arthur had only reinforced my sheer dislike for full battles. But if I had, at nineteen, not turned tail, there was no chance in hell I would allow my friends and lover to get in the fray without me now. Not after ten years of experience, not after surviving Saitō and Sanan's training. Of what good were my newfound abilities if I left ?
"Hai. I know what it's like, I know what to expect. It isn't pretty, but I'm ready."
His eyes returned to me, penetrating my soul. Then, as if to contradict his plea for me to leave, his warm hand snaked around my waist and pulled me closer.
"I am reluctant to order my own men in this mess and we need to put those Shōchū dogs down," he breathed, bringing his forehead to mine in an intimate display, "But you..."
Hesitation drew his features so taut that I longed to kiss that expression away. And so, I gently brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth, understanding, at last, why he wanted me away.
"That line has blurred, right ?"
He nodded, fingers snaking up my skull, carding through the wild waves. A great breath escaped his lips when he retreated, hand settling across my collarbone as his gaze got lost in the recesses of his mind.
"You were relatively safe until now, with one of us at your back. But a battlefield, Kitsu."
There was horror on his breath, trepidation in his tone, the certainty of man used to lose his men to adversity. "It only takes one blink of an eye to extinguish a life," he rumbled, the gentle caress of a finger swiping over my bottom lip.
"I know," I murmured, nestling in his palm. Better than anyone, I'd seen how brutally random a battlefield could be. Sword or gun, every single second could lead to one's demise. Kill, or be killed. The weight of dealing death never abated unless purpose rendered it justifiable enough to help lessen the burden.
"It didn't even take me a breath to run Sakai through."
My eyes flew open, finding his as they hardened.
"The wakizashi went straight into his chest", he rumbled, voice broken by regret "A good tsuki, fast and efficient. His ribs didn't even protest."
A shudder wracked my lover's body and I set my hand upon his heart, knowing full well how many men had died by his hand. Toshizō suddenly titled backwards, dragging my hand with him until I settled upon his chest, his arm tightening over my waist like a crow bar. When his other arm lifted to hide his eyes, I realised something was very wrong. Was my relaxing session the trigger of Toshizō's state of mind, or was he just crumbling before the onslaught of future loss ?
"Who was Sakai ?", I whispered.
An enemy ? A spy ? A politician like Itō, trying to escape the rules of the Shinsengumi ?
"Our accountant."
That confession startled me, but when Toshizō did not offer anything more, I mulled that, maybe, he needed me to pry it out. Or perhaps he would refuse to talk about it, for that kill seemed to bring him much pain. Yet, it wasn't shame that kept his mouth shut, but as I would learn, regret.
"What happened ?"
He did not shift to find my gaze, perfectly still. But his heart betrayed him, running under my ear with the strength of a thousand horses. "They left me no choice…"
They ?
"I had to kill him in the end. Had to kill our Rasetsu, the very men I forced to drink Ochimizu. But him… him I wasn't ready."
Warm fingers spasmed around my waist, and I retrieved his second hand to lay it upon his chest, enfolded in mine. "Ochimizu ?", I coaxed.
"Hai. Those sons of bitches, they dosed him with an experimental version, perhaps more than once." So it wasn't on Toshizō's order that the man had drunk the water of life.
"Who did that ?"
"The Tosa clan wanted to kill the Shōgūn, they would have used him, wearing our uniform."
My lips curled in disgust; even if the plan was clever, I abhorred deception in any form. Especially when it involved sacrificing a faithful accountant. "Bastards," I spat.
"Hai. We found them, killed the Rasetsu they had stolen from us, and we were hoping to find Sakai safe and sound. Instead, he attacked us, levelled all our captains, even Sanan. He had completely lost his mind."
To put the captains down as a feat, but Sanan with his Rasetsu powers… was another exploit altogether. "All of them ? Wow. It is incredible. Was he as strong as Kazama ?"
"Worse, I think." I gasped. After crossing swords with said Oni, I knew how insanely fast and strong that son of a bitch was. To think a Rasetsu could have rivalled in strength… The very thought of my lover fighting this beast by himself caused me to shiver in fright.
"But you faced him either way."
"Sakai was under my command. I owed it to him, and his family."
Silence greeted this statement; as much as I admired Toshizō for his sense of honour, I feared it would lead him to an early death. As Fukuchō, he couldn't be held accountable for every single glitch in the Shinsengumi. We were about to face a war; if he kept this mentality, it would cripple him beyond salvation. "Toshi. Every loss is not your failure. I have learnt, the hard way, that you cannot save everyone."
"Tch." His dismissal raised my hackles and I trapped his jaw to call his attention back to me. Then I gave him my most determined glare.
"Listen to me, you stubborn samurai," I started, using the title on purpose. "Whatever plagues you will not send me away. I'm right where I want to be, by your side, and it is my choice. My responsibility."
Well, aside from the fact that I was Shinsengumi now. An intense stare responded to my words, pain and fear mingling in his eyes. Then he turned his head aside, refusing to let me pry into his emotions. I settled back on his chest, feeling strangely bereft to have him recoil from my gaze. I felt his uneasy swallow, as if the words stuck into his throat.
"Kitsu… I don't know how I would handle you dying on me. The very thought of, perhaps, not even finding your body…"
My breath caught; flattering and heartbreaking at the same time, it floored me that he would admit to having such a weakness. Me. After losing so many men in scuffles, ordering more to death; that my life would mean so much to him was a token of deep affection.
Perhaps he loved me, after all.
Desperate to alleviate his fears, I tapped into the vision that had hit me so many months before. I recalled easily enough the sensation of drowning in my own blood, of the crippling pain that seared me from behind as I looked into his eyes, dying. He had been wearing a grey overcoat, or perhaps black ? And a shirt. Western style. It suited him well, but made him look different. Less… him. A pity.
There was the key to my own fading. "I'm not dying in those battles, Toshi," I revealed. "I've seen it, my death, and it's not here. Not now."
His head turned so fast that I fear he'd caused himself whiplash. "What have you seen ?" he questioned, his voice strained.
Deep, soulful eyes bore into me, determination buried behind all those dancing emotions that made my heart beat faster. But I knew him, knew that Tozhizō was as stubborn than his persona - Oni no Fukuchō; he would do anything in his reach to ensure I remained safe. Trapped in his gaze, I fumbled with my words as I recalled the scene.
"You, holding me…" A long breath fanned upon my lips as I licked them, finding my mouth dry. Reliving that future memory took a strain of my body, and I started shaking in his arms.
"What else ?"
"You… were wearing western clothing. I think I was drowning in my blood. It tainted your shirt."
Silence became oppressive as he took in my words, his mind furiously running. But his hand squeezed my waist, reassuring, a safe anchor to remind me to return to reality. For a moment, I thought he would just dismiss my vision. It could very well be fear, something conjured up by an ailing mind. I should have known that, by now, Toshizō trusted all my abilities.
"Then we need to fight separately."
"No !", I cried, startled by the very idea. Toshizō shushed me at once, his finger closing my mouth with a reproachful look. We did not need the compound to find us, huddled and naked, under a single blanket. "Kitsu, think about it, it is the most logical course of action."
Always the strategist.
The shaking intensified, and I felt my chest tighten in pain. Blasted poisoning ! Despite Toshizō's reassuring hold, I fear to be separated in battle. Dread rose, clutching my guts with the intensity of a wolf's bite. Suddenly, the vision of my death felt more like a gamble than a real possibility. And I was too wracked with anguish to decide whether I wanted it to be true.
What if it never came to happen ? What if, by trying to escape it, we just shifted our fate to another kind of death ? No matter how, destiny always won. The mere thought of Toshizō, dying alone on the battlefield was unbearable. "Toshi, I can't…"
"You can, and you will," he retorted, donning on his Fukuchō persona. "Orders of the Vice Commander." But the man that rested beneath me was more to me than a commander; his place in my heart ensured a part of me would die by his side. And, right now, it terrified me.
"Please…", I pleaded, burying my face in his naked chest.
"Harada will need someone to watch his back, and I trust him to watch yours."
I bit my own wrist to refrain from screaming, muscles seizing from both rage and panic. The memory of Tristan, riding to his death with confidence, was embedded in my mind. I couldn't go through that again, my heart was too deeply engaged, this time, to handle the loss.
Hypocrite.
I had berated Toshizō for confusing his past wounds with the present situation, and here I was, doing the same thing. PTSD was a bitch, and we made quite the pair. A warm hand slid up and down my spine and I took a few deep breaths to try and ease the pain that crushed my ribcage. Little by little, the shaking receded. Then, when I felt strong enough to face him again, I caught his gaze and held fast. "What if I return, and you don't ? How will I handle that, uh ?"
His body shuddering underneath mine felt strange, and I eyed him suspiciously. "Have you seen it too ? My death ?" Toshizō frowned, clearly hesitating. If my vision was shared by the two of us, it could only mean one thing; I would die in his arms during this war. And, strangely, I was starting to accept it; there were worst places than Japan to die. If the Shinsengumi were the end of the road for me, I knew I would be honoured. The Keeper of Time was growing too weary to perform her duties; perhaps Kazama had done me a favour in stealing the necklace.
I just hoped it would find the right person to take on the mantle in my stead. As I mulled over my future death, Toshizō's deep rumble froze my brain in its tracks. "Nor yours. Mine."
I gasped, eyes wide, blood draining from my face. "What ?" I breathed, adamant to have him go back on his word. Unfortunately, he only confirmed my greatest fear.
"I saw… the same scene as you, in reverse. I drew my last breath in your arms…"
Tears welled in my eyes and I tried, very hard, to blink them away. A gentle touch smoothed my brow as he went on: "You were crying something about not being ready. You kissed me, and in your eyes…" His voice died down, as if he couldn't voice those emotions. And I, adamant to refuse, shifted from his grasp to perch upon my knees. How could Toshizō die in my arms if I was supposed to die in his ? I pinched the bridge of my nose, oblivious to the fact I'd picked this habit from him.
"It doesn't make sense." Hope unfurled in my chest; if our visions were inconsistent, then… perhaps we still stood a chance to make a life together. But then, why was our mutual gift acting up so strangely ? "No it doesn't," Toshizō confirmed, rising on his elbows. With the kakebuton sliding off his shoulder, hair splayed behind him in an ebony curtain, he almost looked like a teaser for better things.
How I love him. "One of us must be wrong," he mused.
One or two ? Which vision is true ? Perhaps none of them ? Or worse…
"Or some superior being is playing with our minds."
He cocked his head aside, wondering where I was getting at. If the Japanese were superstitious with their Kami, Toshizō had never met a God. But I was appointed by the Valar, the equivalent of angels, and had crossed path with many a manipulative higher being through my travels. It did not seem impossible that one would try and mess up with us… The issue was, to what purpose ?
"When ?" I suddenly asked. "When did you have your vision ?" He brushed a loose strand away from my face. "The day Harada brought you back. The very first day I laid eyes upon you."
I gaped; at last, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. This confession was key to Toshizō's initial erratic behaviour towards me, because his first glimpse of me had pushed him to consider his future mortality… "Is that why you were so hostile in the beginning?"
A rueful smile bloomed upon his face, the apology clearly written within as his eyes sparkled with fondness. "I thought that maybe… if we got rid of you, I wouldn't have to die so soon."
Such a burden to bear. To contemplate your own death because some strange woman popped in your life. But Toshizō was not done with his confession: "But I couldn't order your death. And then, you charmed me with your wits, your dedication, and your skills, and I was hopelessly lost."
The day he kissed me. "I… you could have pushed me away. You were doing quite a good job at it." My lover shrugged. "Fate is fate, Kitsu, and if death wants me, then I'll meet it with pride. We are bushi."
It was my turn to shiver as I realised, with a pang, that barging into his life brought him both love and death. No wonder he'd been pissed. But as his sheer magnetism had brought me to heel, he'd also suffered the same on his side. We were too well matched not to put our skills in common. Was it the saving of Sōji's life that had undone him ? Itō's men attack ? A question never asked, but I longed to know.
"I didn't want to pass on something so phenomenal," he went on, his voice falling to a murmur as he grabbed my nape and brought me down. "The way you looked at me in this vision… No one ever looked at me that way," he rumbled, capturing my lips. "No one."
The kiss was short, and heated, almost forceful. Just like the first one he'd bestowed upon my unsuspecting mouth that day beside the well. What could I answer that ? "Well, I love you to death."
Til death do us part. That was my vow. "Exactly."
Humbled by his courage, I pushed away the turmoil and considered his very naked, appealing body sprawled beneath mine. "So this is our last night together, eh ? Let's make the most of it."
A dark eyebrow quirked up, lips lifting in amusement.
"Hai, Kitsu," he murmured, diving for my neck. His tongue darted, causing me to melt and drape over his sinful muscles. Would I ever get enough? He seemed to be of the same mind, for he flipped us and my back hit the futon. His growl reverberated through my chest as he commanded: "Let me take my fill."
I just nodded, lost in the sensation of his skin sliding over mine, of his weight crushing me to the bedding, and that wet appendage wreaking havoc on my senses.
And, by the Valar, he certainly did take his fill this night !
It's quite the chapter here ! And most of all, we now know why Hijikata xwas so hostile at the beginning. It wasn't only his usual charming self habit :)
