Plurk paste

<i>1868 - April</i>

“What are you looking at, Kondou-san?”

Not for the first time since they arrived, Yasusada wishes they’d chosen a better hiding spot. From his position, he can hear Kondou and Hijikata’s conversation perfectly well, but there’s no way to get a good look at them without revealing themselves, to the humans <i>and</i> this era’s Kanesada, Horikawa, and Nagasone. Hachisuka and Nagasone are positioned a little more strategically in their own spots, but that just gives Yasusada a clear view of the pain on Nagasone’s face as he watches the humans talk, and that isn’t exactly a sight he’s eager to focus on.

Of course, the alternative is looking at Kashuu, who’s pressed against his side as they eavesdrop. But Kashuu’s donned his mask of nonchalance, the same way he always does when they’re on missions like this, and Yasusada has no way of prying it off of him without getting them caught.

“Tenrousei,” Kondou replies. Yasusada hears Hijikata hum, but he doesn’t speak, and Kondou continues. “Did you know, Toshi?”

“What?”

“After the sun, that star is the brightest one in the sky.” There’s the sound of rustling fabric, like Kondou’s moving to sit next to Hijikata. Hijikata hums again, thoughtfully this time. In the distance, Yasusada hears gunshots, and a scream that cuts off too abruptly to mean anything good. Hijikata and Kondou have got to hear it, too—but then, they’ve been hearing things just like it for quite a while, by now.

How long did it take, Yasusada wonders, for the sounds of war to stop giving them nightmares, and sing them to sleep instead?

“The brightest after the sun?” Hijikata repeats, and Kondou makes a sound of affirmation.

“The second brightest star in the whole sky.”

Silence falls between them, but it’s heavy, full of things that are loudly left unsaid. Yasusada wants so, so badly to try and steal a glimpse of their faces—he suspects that right now, Kondou looks very much like he did when they left Okita behind, back in Sendagaya. But confirming it would be an unnecessary risk, and despite what the others may think, he <i>does</i> know when to hold back. Of course, it’s much easier to resist when he isn’t fighting the pull of his former master’s presence.

Instead, he glances at Kashuu, who’s staring into the distance just a little too pointedly. Which is strange, because it isn’t like Kashuu was here for this conversation the first time. It’s not like he knows how it goes any more than Yasusada does, even if they’re both fairly sure of where it’s going.

“The second brightest… after the sun?” Hijikata says, but he’s speaking slowly, like Kondou’s telling him something he doesn’t want to hear. And suddenly, Yasusada remembers—

<i> “It’s actually two stars! I heard Kondou-san telling Okita about it. The second star is so small, it’s almost impossible to see. But you’ve got to have them both, right? So it’s like two stars in one.”

“Like you and me.”</i>

Well. That explains a few things, if <i>that’s</i> what Kashuu’s thinking about. But is it a happy memory for him, now, or does it sting to hear these words, knowing the Shinsengumi’s inevitable fate?

“Toshi,” Kondou says, just as Yasusada’s trying to decide whether or not to take Kashuu’s hand. “We’re surrounded.”

More screams—louder, this time, or maybe they’re just pressing further into Yasusada’s awareness, a reality that refuses to be ignored.

“We are.” The rustle of fabric, then footsteps, Hijikata’s voice moving towards Kondou. “Let’s make this our last stand, huh?”

“No.”

“Right—” A pause, then, and out of the corner of his eye, Yasusada sees Nagasone turn his face away, just as Kondou speaks again.

“Toshi. You escape.”

“What are you saying, Kondou-san?!” Hijikata sounds—furious, really, but with a note of panic that he can’t quite cover up. And behind him—

<i>“Did you know about this?”</i> That’s Kanesada, but he isn’t yelling, the way Hijikata is. He’s got to be talking to Nagasone, and even though Yasusada can’t see their faces, the silence is damning enough.

“I will surrender myself,” Kondou’s saying, with the sort of calm that only a man who’s made peace with himself can possess. Most likely, he made this decision long ago, well before they ever came to Shimosa-Nagareyama.

“Oi, Kondou-san!”

“If I surrender myself, the enemy will lift their siege, right? So use that opportunity to escape.”

“What are you saying?!” Hijikata demands, and Yasusada hears him moving, closely followed by the sound of unsteady feet. It sounds like Hijikata’s grabbed him, but when Yasusada looks over, Nagasone’s face gives away nothing of what he sees. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

<i> “There must be another way,”</i> Horikawa says, and Yasusada winces at his tone, a half-step away from begging. <i>“Nagasone-san, please, we can’t lose you too.”</i>

<i>“It’s the best solution,”</i> is the quiet reply, followed by an angry hiss that sounds very much like Kanesada.

<i>“First Kiyomitsu, then Yasusada, now you? We’re never going to win this war if you all keep this up!”</i>

“Toshi!” Kondou yells, over the conversation he can’t hear. “I’ve made my decision!”

The silence that follows is much too loud—Nagasone doesn’t respond, and Yasusada wonders if, even before this moment, he’d known they were fated to lose. Kashuu sighs quietly beside him, and somehow, Yasusada knows he’s thinking the same thing.

“Please…” It’s Hijikata’s voice that breaks the silence, and Yasusada closes his eyes. He has no desire to steal a look at their faces now. “Please don’t…”

Not once, in all the time he spent at Okita’s side and amongst the Shinsengumi’s men, has he ever heard Hijikata Toshizou sound <i>vulnerable.</i> But now, he sounds almost like a child, his throat tight with misery and denial. He’s got to be crying, if he sounds like that, but Yasusada can’t even begin to imagine what tears would look like on his face.

“I’m begging you, don’t talk like that, Kacchan!”

<i>“Kane-san…”</i> Horikawa’s voice is barely a whisper, and Yasusada knows very well what <i>their</i> faces must look like. He’s seen their misery before, after all. He’s not sure if that’s better, or worse.

“Toshi. Toshi!” Kondou’s tone turns sharp, the way it always does when he’s trying to get his men to focus. “You and Souji are like brothers to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you and Souji die before me.”

A raspy breath is all he gets in response. Reluctantly, Yasusada opens his eyes again—but this time, he finds Kashuu staring at him.

For a moment, just a moment, the air is still and quiet. Kashuu looks at him, and Yasusada looks back, reading the emotions in his eyes and responding in kind. Hijikata wasn’t their master, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to hear him like this, frightened and lost, like a ship set out to sea with no captain to guide it through the thunderstorms.

When they move, it’s simultaneous, and Yasusada breathes quietly as Kashuu’s head comes to rest against his own.

“A little brother shouldn’t die before his older brother.” Kondou’s words are punctuated by a gentle slap, with the sound of stumbling feet, as if he’s pushed Hijikata away. Hijikata’s definitely crying now—as quietly as he can, but there’s no disguising the sounds he’s making, even if they’re almost drowned out by the spirits nearby.

<i>“It’s stupid,”</i> Kanesada’s saying, and he’s trying to sound angry, but he’s even worse at hiding his fear than Hijikata is. <i>“Nagasone-san, you’ve gotta know this isn’t gonna save anyone!”</i>

<i>“We don’t have a choice,”</i> Nagasone answers, much softer than the warm goodbye Kondou’s trying for. <i>“You know that.”</i>

<i>“But—”</i> Horikawa, but he stops as Kondou raises his voice.

“Vice-commander of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata Toshizou! This is my last order as your Commander.” A pause; when Kondou speaks again, it’s with a special sort of warmth and fondness, something that diminished long ago, then vanished completely. Something none of them will ever hear again.

“Become my legacy,” Kondou says, and Yasusada can hear his smile.

Hijikata draws in a ragged breath, and Yasusada hears him grab Kanesada’s tsuka, as if he needs the support. The reminder, of their way of life, of what they’re fighting for.

“Commander of the Shinsengumi, Kondou Isami,” he says, as evenly as he can. There’s a telling pause, then— “Until we meet again.”

One set of retreating footsteps, then another, in the opposite direction. Yasusada can’t see them, but his awareness of this era’s Kanesada, Horikawa and Nagasone grows fainter and fainter, until it vanishes entirely.