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 his words are punctuated with the sound of a 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.

“Until then,” Kondou says, too soft to be heard by other human ears, and then he, too, is gone.

At his side, Kashuu lets out a long breath, slumping against him in an uncharacteristic show of weakness. He doesn’t like seeming weary in front of anybody, but especially not him—and he definitely doesn’t like letting the hurt in his heart show on his face, no matter if Yasusada knows, with certainty, that it’s there. But no one’s paying them any attention. Kashuu’s trusting him, to let him have this, and it would warm his heart if he could feel anything past the numbing cold spreading through him.

Kondou wasn’t his master. But he meant so much to Okita, and neither he nor Yasusada ever truly got word of his fate. It was one of the first things Yasusada had looked up, when he’d gotten used to his body enough to go rifling through the Citadel’s library, searching for every book, chapter, passage or mention about the Shinsengumi he could find. Kashuu never did join him for that, but somehow, Yasusada gets the feeling he knows what’s coming anyway.

“This… is the Shinsengumi?”

The sound of Hachisuka’s voice startles them both out of their thoughts, and in unison, they lean over to look. Hachisuka’s wandered out of hiding, but he looks like he did so on accident, the way he’s staring in the direction Kondou must’ve gone. “This is Kondou Isami?” he says, voice quiet enough that he must be talking to himself. “This is <i>his</i> former master?”

Yasusada glances at Kashuu, unsurprised to find him already looking back. Kashuu raises an eyebrow, and Yasusada shrugs helplessly—when it comes to Hachisuka’s relationship with Nagasone, and his feelings towards his “brother”, he knows even less than Kashuu does.

There’s no time to contemplate it now, though, as light, hurried footsteps signal Horikawa’s return from scouting. If he’s running that quickly, it can’t be anything good. “I’ve discovered the enemy’s next target!”

“Where?!” Hachisuka demands, his focus snapping back immediately, and that’s as good of a signal as any to come out and join them. Nagasone and Kanesada are doing the same, and Yasusada wonders just how much Nagasone heard. Hachisuka’s words? His wonder? His face gives nothing away.

Horikawa’s doesn’t, either, but he’s very carefully not looking at Nagasone. It’s an obvious tell, a slip Horikawa wouldn’t usually make—but then, of course he’d be more rattled than usual. Hijikata and Kondou’s conversation couldn’t have been any easier the second time around. “Itabashi.”

“Itabashi?” Hachisuka repeats, and Yasusada cringes before he can help himself. He knows, even before Hachisuka speaks, what his next words will be. “What happened at Itabashi?”

“Itabashi,” Nagasone says suddenly, making all of them jump. He’s been silent and still this whole time, and even as he strides forward, his expression hasn’t changed. He is, perhaps, better at stoicism than all the rest of them combined. When he continues, his voice is perfectly even. “Itabashi is… the place where Kondou Isami was executed.”

None of them are strong enough to cut through the silence that follows.

This is Ikedaya all over again. But none of them asked to be involved in <i>this</i> part of history, and that makes all the difference. But Yasusada’s just begun trying to piece those words together to sound comforting when Nagasone turns on his heel, already heading back towards their inn.

“Let’s go,” he says, and his tone brooks no argument—Yasusada, and the rest of the Shinsengumi, move forward as one, following an order they’re powerless to resist.

“Wait!”

But not all of them are Shinsengumi.

Hachisuka waits until Nagasone stops, and when Yasusada looks back at him, he’s not sure Hachisuka even notices they’re still present. Nagasone doesn’t turn around immediately, but Hachisuka steps forward, undeterred. “Is that alright?”

“…what do you mean, ‘alright’?” Nagasone asks, and Yasusada presses his lips together, fighting back a frown. He doesn’t like Nagasone’s voice like this. No inflection, no warmth, no sign of emotion of any kind.

“Your former master is going to be executed—” Hachisuka says, exactly opposite in the way his voice rises with—not anger, Yasusada thinks, but passion. He looks ready to storm over and start yelling in Nagasone’s face, but Nagasone cuts him off, turning his back with a callousness Yasusada didn’t think he was capable of.

“If our enemy tries to change history, we kill them,” he says, effectively silencing Hachisuka’s tirade before it can truly begin. “That’s all there is to it.”

This time, no one stops him as he walks away.

Horikawa’s the first to move, and Kashuu isn’t far behind him, following Nagasone out of the clearing and back towards their lodging. Yasusada follows them automatically, as he’s always done, caught up in his thoughts as they leave Hachisuka and Kanesada alone.

Nagasone isn’t wrong. That’s the <i>problem.</i> There’s nothing any of them can say that will change the inevitability of the task before them, and asking him to stay behind would only be excessively cruel. But watching Nagasone’s back hurts in a familiar way, a way that reminds him of watching Okita’s, when he’d strode out of the compound with Kashuu at his side for the very last time.

Just like him, Nagasone doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to see—probably, he just knows that it’s going to hurt.

He shouldn’t have to feel like he can’t talk about it, though. Surely, Yasusada thinks, he must understand that they’re all ready to support him, in whatever way they can? There’s no way Nagasone doesn’t know how much love and respect they have for him, right?

Lifting his chin, Yasusada strides forward, ignoring Kashuu’s quiet murmur of his name and making his way to Nagasone’s side. Nagasone doesn’t look at him, but Yasusada doesn’t let that deter him.

“Nagasone-san,” he says, striving to copy the gentle tone Horikawa uses, whenever he’s discussing something sensitive. He isn’t sure how well he succeeds, but Nagasone grunts in acknowledgment all the same. That’s good, right?

He didn’t really consider what he’d say once he made it to Nagasone’s side, though. So when he opens his mouth, he does what he always does—he focuses on trying to describe the feelings within his heart, with no idea of what’s actually going to come out of his mouth. “I can’t say that I understand exactly, but—aren’t we kind of the same?”

Nagasone doesn’t answer.

Undeterred, Yasusada continues, “You know, Okita-kun died and I was taken away before we could learn what happened to you. Reading about it in the books, it isn’t really the same, is it? Just like with Ike—”

“Yasusada,” Nagasone says, stopping abruptly enough that Yasusada jumps, snapping his mouth shut. “It’s fine. We’ll do our job, then we can all go home. Just focus on that, and you’ll be fine.”

Yasusada blinks.

Does Nagasone think… that Yasusada’s looking for reassurance for <i>himself?</i>

“That’s not—” he begins, but Nagasone’s already walking away again. Faster, this time, and Yasusada knows a dismissal when he sees one.

His shoulders sag, and he appreciates Horikawa’s sympathetic smile as he passes, but he can’t muster one up in return. He watches Horikawa walk behind Nagasone in silence for a while, staying put long enough that even Hachisuka and Kanesada catch up to him. They give him a strange look (which is fair, he thinks, since he’s stopped in the middle of the road), but a hand lands on his shoulder, and whatever’s on Kashuu’s face is enough to send them on their way.

“I don’t understand,” he admits, once they’re more-or-less out of earshot. He doesn’t bother explaining; Kashuu’s quiet hum is confirmation enough that he heard everything Yasusada said.

“Well, you could’ve been a little less <i>yourself</i>, for starters,” he says, and Yasusada recognizes the light teasing, but he isn’t in the mood to play along. He sighs, and as Kashuu circles around to face him, he slides his hand up from Yasusada’s shoulder to brush his bangs out of his face. “But for this, I think you probably would’ve gotten the same reaction no matter what. Nagasone-san doesn’t talk about this stuff, you know that.”

<i>Like you don’t?</i> Yasusada thinks, unbidden—but that’s just lingering bitterness, so he swallows to get it out of his mouth.

“I just wanted to help.”

“I know, Yasu,” Kashuu says, his tone turning surprisingly gentle. Yasusada chances a look at him as he leans into the gentle pressure of his fingers, and this time, he manages a small smile. “But if he doesn’t want it, there’s nothing we can do. We can’t make him lean on us.”

“Then what do we do?” he asks, and Kashuu shrugs.

“Fight,” he says, and there’s nothing Yasusada can say to argue with that.

-

There is nothing special to mark the day.

It doesn’t feel right, Yasusada thinks, curling his fingers into the kakebuton spread across his lap. His tea sits forgotten on the low table beside him, half-empty, undoubtedly cold. Kashuu’s already mostly through his morning routine, and Yasusada listens to him move around the room with quiet efficiency. It’s comforting, even though Yasusada doesn’t know how Kashuu possibly has the energy to be up and about when they know exactly what horrors await them.

<i>Okita-kun wouldn’t have wanted to stay in bed,</i> he tells himself. He closes his eyes, sparing a moment to try and remember what Okita’s doing, not so very far away—but it’s no use. The days really have blurred together in his memory, all the way up until the morning Okita opened his eyes for the last time.

That one, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

With a sigh, he pushes his hair out of his face, climbing slowly to his feet. He catches Kashuu looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but something on his face must be a deterrent, as he simply goes back to carefully putting on his earrings. Once, that might’ve hurt his feelings; it might’ve felt like a dismissal he wouldn’t have understood. Now, Yasusada can appreciate it the space he’s being given, even if it’s not necessarily what he was looking for. How can he expect Kashuu to give him what he wants, anyway, if he doesn’t even know himself?

He wonders, as he starts to dress for the day, if Nagasone slept at all. If being surrounded by all of them made him feel less alone, or more.

Did Kondou feel alone, in his very last moments? Okita did—he must have, because as far as his human senses could tell, he <i>was</i> alone. But Okita didn’t choose to be left behind. He never wanted to spend his final days bound to a sickbed, and he certainly wouldn’t have chosen to do so, if it had been up to him. Unfortunate, then, that Hijikata and Kondou had loved him so much.

Kondou, as far as the Shinsengumi is concerned, died alone too. Away from his men, from his brothers, executed for a murder he didn’t even actually commit. (Yasusada’s still not sure he understands that part—if they wanted him dead so badly, why not choose something he <i>did</i> do? Yasusada loved Kondou as Okita did, but he was hardly a pristine civilian.)

Still, Kondou chose his own fate. His options may have been limited, but he still had a modicum of freedom, and he rejected Hijikata’s pleas to reconsider of his own accord. So was he at peace, then, when he felt the rush of air on the back of his neck? Or was he reluctant, afraid, desperately hoping for a miracle, someone to charge in and save him at the last minute?

“Yasu?”

Yasusada jumps at the sound of his name, twisting around. While he was lost in morbid curiosity, Kashuu not only finished getting ready to go, but he apparently cleaned up their tea set <i>and</i> located Yasuasda’s comb, resting in his hands now as he kneels at his back. He holds it up, cocking his head to the side in a silent question, and Yasusada meets his gaze, trying to pull himself back out of his mind.

Was Kashuu lonely, when he died?

That’s not an answer he’s ever going to find on Kashuu’s face, but Yasusada searches his eyes anyway, sifting through bloodstains and sunsets and young rust for hints of the Kashuu he once saw curled up on the floor of a shadowy inn, desperately begging his master to get back on his feet. There aren’t any, of course, but Kashuu doesn’t seem to mind the sudden intensity of his stare, simply waiting patiently for his permission.

He must’ve been, Yasusada decides. When he’d realized Okita wasn’t going to be moving anytime soon, when he’d curled up in resignation, he must’ve felt terribly alone. And Yasusada knows, from experience, that there are few things more lonely than looking into the eyes of someone who isn’t looking back.

Hunh. Maybe their experiences weren’t so different, after all.

With that revelation, he nods, turning around and obediently holding his head still as Kashuu scoots up behind him, starting to tame his hair with practiced ease. They don’t do this every day, but it’s a common enough occurrence that Kashuu knows exactly how to handle even the worst tangles—<i>not</i> by yanking the comb through them until either the knots break, or his comb does, as Yasusada used to do. It isn’t long before he feels his hair being swept off the back of his neck, secured in his usual ponytail—what would Kashuu do, he wonders, if he asked to wear it down today?

He won’t, but it’s an interesting thought.

“Do you think Nagasone-san is ready?” Yasusada asks, and he feels Kashuu jump behind him. He must have assumed Yasusada wouldn’t want to talk until they joined the others.

It’s not as simple a question as it sounds. But he doesn’t need to specify. Kashuu knows him better than anyone else by now, and there’s a gentle tug on his ponytail to keep him focused on the present.

“Nobody’s ever ready for something like this, Yasusada,” Kashuu says, and with his task done, he gets back to his feet. Yasuada turns, watching him contemplate whether it’s worth cleaning the brush now, or if it can wait until later. “But he still isn’t gonna talk about it. Just leave it be, let him handle this how he wants to. That’s the best thing we can do for him right now.” He sets the brush down, then looks back at Yasusada, raising an eyebrow. “He did the same for you, right?”

Of course he did. They all did. He’s not going to forget that anytime soon, and Kashuu is right—he should respect Nagasone’s desire for solitary mourning, even if he doesn’t necessarily agree with it. Yasusada looks down at his lap, properly chastised, and that’s the end of that.

Still, he thinks, as they make their way out of the room, whether Nagasone wants to acknowledge his pain or not, it feels like there should be <i>something</i> to set this day apart. The city, the country, the world is filled with hundred of thousands of humans who have no idea what’s in store, all of them wrapped up in their own lives, going on their own journeys, telling their own stories. There should be something, Yasusada thinks, as Kanesada and Horikawa join them, to let all of those people know that whether they know it or not, they’re about to lose a man who, for all his mistakes, could shine bright as new steel on a battlefield. Very soon, a light will go out—and as Nagasone walks up behind Hachisuka, there is nothing to indicate he once stood proudly in its shadow.

<i>“The moon and sun are travelers through eternity.”</i>

The words come to mind as he steps out into the daylight, frowning at the clouds in the distance. It’s a line he remembers reading, long ago. And he can’t help but wonder:

What about the stars?