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Sougo’s favorite season was fall. When his sister asked, he’d tell her it was because he loved how the temperature was perfect for sleeping. But really it was because the gingko reminded him of her hair, and the falling maple reminded him of her eyes, the leaves dancing in a red storm before they made their way down to him. It was because fall paved the way for winter, and winter was the perfect season to share spicy senbei. Winter was when everyone - his aneue, Kondo-san, and yes even that Hijbaka shared one small kotatsu to keep warm because they were too dirt-poor to afford more than one. But that kotastu was home for him.
But then kamisama really had a sick sense of irony didn’t he?
Because Mitsuba died in the fall, the person he loved most in the season he loved most because it was the most like her. Kamisama made sure he could never forget (not that he ever would).
Now there’s no one to share spicy senbei with, and they can never return to that small kotatsu. It’s winter and Sougo feels like he’ll never be warm again.
‘Oi, Sougo.’
‘Hm?’
‘You’ve got a cherry blossom petal on your hair. C’mon, I’ll pick it out.’
Hijikata was about to pick off the stray petal, when the younger boy sidestepped him, with a deadpan look. ‘I’d rather you didn’t Hijikata-san. Why’re you pretending like you’re some Ikemen from a shoujo manga? Hijikata-san, could you not come near me? We don’t know if mayonnaise sickness is contagious.’
‘You brat…’
‘Maa, maa, Toshi,’ placated Kondo, ever the peacemaker between them.
Hijikata would normally say more, you know the usual, ‘commit seppuku right now!’ but he was still feeling pleasantly buzzed. Not that he’d admit it to those Yorozuya freaks, but he actually had fun. ‘Don’t worry, Kondo-san. I won’t fall down to the level of some brat who was playing around with another brat just a while ago,’ he snickered, then noticed Sougo who was looking at the petal he’d just plucked from his hair. He was looking at it intensely, face visibly annoyed. That in itself was surprising for Hijikata who knew him since childhood and still couldn’t tell what was behind that poker face half the time.
‘That brat…’ For his part Sougo didn’t even notice Hijikata poking fun at him. All he knew was he felt annoyance bloom. ‘I won’t lose to her next time.’ He let the petal fall from his hand to the dirt, and then continued walking.
The two adults let him walk ahead.
‘You know Kondo-san?’
‘What is it Toshi?’
‘I haven’t seen him that annoyed in quite a while since…’
‘Ah.’ Kondo put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. The weight was heavy for him, so it must be even moreso for Toshi, and especially for Sougo. ‘But, I know what you mean.’
Lagging behind, they remembered a bit, but Hijikata, perhaps in an effort to shake himself of ghosts, went on, ‘But that girl really was something. Going toe to toe with our Sougo.’
‘Our?’
‘Geh.’ Hijikata could only splutter in embarrassment, as Kondo poked fun at him, ‘C’mon that guy isn’t here and yet you’re still competitive. Maybe Sougo gets it from you pahahaha.’
‘Don’t you start Kondo-san!’ Hijikata tried to jostle the still-laughing gorilla on his shoulder.
Wiping off a tear, Kondo continued on, ‘Sougo’s always been the best at everything he does. Everything came easy to him. But along with that enormous talent came the enormous burden of being alone.’ Hijikata could only remain silent at that. ‘Who knows? Maybe a little healthy competition will be good for him.’
‘Maybe you’re right Kondo-san.’
Kondo-san, as it turns out was wrong, though of course they didn’t know it yet. Depending on what perspective you looked at it from, maybe it was a good thing for Sougo, but from the perspective of the rest of Kabuki-cho, or perhaps the people who had to deal with property damage every day, it was definitely not a good thing at all.
'There are things that must be protected even if you get dirty.’
It’s not like he forgot, but maybe he’d spent too long in the dirt that he couldn’t see things as clearly anymore.
‘Hey, thanks.’ Thanks for what exactly? For knocking out the Rokkaku girl, for looking for him, for reminding, for staying, for being an annoying pain in the ass that he got pissed off just by looking at her, so much so that he was itching for a sword. No way was he dying indebted to that brat.
Maybe it was fine that he’s been stuck in the dirt all this time. From dirt, new things grow. Didn’t someone tell him that, once upon a time?
Even if it wasn’t actually dirt he was stuck in, but a room full of vomit. He was so going to kill that china girl later, but first he was going to damn well protect the both of them first.
He hasn’t felt this angry in quite a while. It’s different from his usual killing intent. He can honestly say that this is the first time that he’s furious at China. Not that she’ll ever know, not that he’ll ever let it show.
Because for an instant he saw a ghost in her bed, superimposed on her figure, and he will one day strangle her with his bare hands for putting the people she loves through a facsimile of what he went through.
Because he already lived through it, he can see through her in an instant. China is pale, but it’s her usual color, all lily-white skin. It’s fine. It’s ok. She’s still full of vitality. Red blood still runs through her veins, inside where it belongs, to make her flush cherry blossom pink. Not like how Aneue was at the end, bleach white like the branches left behind once all the leaves had fallen.
Part of him wants to shake her silly, be the straight man this time, break their routine, but another part of him painfully understands, that feeling of being left behind. It’s disgusting. Well if he’s going to listen to that rational part of him anyway, might as well have as much fun as possible.
He carries a rose that reminds him of cherry blossoms, places it next to her, and smiles a smile that would make Shinigami-sama himself proud.
Why is it always her?
He was shriveled, wilted, pieces of him falling that he kept looking down to see if he dropped something. Kondo-san was nowhere, neither was Hijikata-san, and of course Aneue would never be. It was bigger now, but did he have to leave behind this kotatsu too?
But then she poked and she prodded. She pushed like the boar that she was.
‘We will never forget.’ (How could she have known that it was his greatest fear to forget and be forgotten?)
‘So just go do your job already.’ He can feel her palm through the back of his jacket. It feels warm.
Maybe she has too much life in her too-small body that it just leaks out of her. She’s just like the sun she hates – abrasive, overpowering, it’ll just shine on you, get in your eyes when all you want to do is take a nap. See, this is why he has an eye mask.
All he remembers is that he was a corpse walking, but suddenly now, with her beside him; he suddenly feels energetic enough to want to make corpses of everyone else here instead.
Its raining water instead of cherry blossoms this time around, but she’s still looking down at him, that part hasn’t changed. The water pours down from above and around, but rather than cleansing them, it’s just making them dirtier. It’s dreary weather, grey and murky, but all he sees is a cheeky grin and clear blue skies.
Something blood-red is blooming from behind his chest. It’s pounding like it wants to claw its way out. It makes itself known through a feral snarl, lips pulled back in a wild grin, a perfect copy of the one on hers.
He’s not leaving anything behind. They’re not leaving anything behind. It’s just that those guys from Yorozuya will keep the kotatsu warm for when they finally come back.
‘The next time we meet…’
We’ll be strong enough that we won’t have to leave anything behind ever again.
‘Okita-taichouuu, are we done yet?’
‘Stop whining Yamazaki. If you don’t have anything better to do with that useless hole, I can plug it with something sharp so you won’t ever have to use it again.’
“Kyaaa. Sorry Okita-taichou. Please don’t plug my hole!’ Yamazaki crossed his arms in front of him as if it could actually shield him if the captain did decide to make good on his threat.
It’s been a month or so now and being a ronin once again was tough. Okita-taichou was right. He didn’t have the right to whine, even if this was already the 6000th practice swing, not when the chief, the vice-chief, and the captain were working thrice as hard.
After the hellish training was done he could only hope he could make use of his arms again. Ah, what he wouldn’t give for a piece of anpan about now.
‘You alright there Yamazaki?’
‘Fuku-chou!’
‘Stop calling me that. Technically, I’m no longer your fuku-chou anymore.’
‘Former fuku-chou then.’
‘Whatever.’ Said former fuku-chou sat next to him and continued to puff at his abstinence stick. ‘That Sougo though…I didn’t know he could work this hard.’ While everyone else was finally taking their break, their young captain still continued to do practice swings, and would probably continue to do so until Kondo-san would make him stop, before he got sick from practicing in the rain.
‘For some reason, Okita-taichou suddenly gets a lot more motivated when it starts raining. Do you know the reason former fuku-chou?’
‘Well, beats me,’ Hijikata says with a wry smile, ‘All I know is that someone once told me that a lot of rain’s good for plants because it helps them grow.’
At Yamazaki’s blank look, Hijikata just chuckled.
Sougo felt restless, he almost always did nowadays, being on the run from a country full of people wanting to kill you tended to do that to people, he’s heard. But it’s not that.
It doesn’t matter whether the weather’s bad or good. He can’t remember the last time he’s taken a nap. Just like now. The weather perfect, the sky is clear, no clouds in sight. Clear blue skies. Spring skies. Unfortunately it just makes him want to train harder because it feels like she’s still looking down on him even now.
‘Hm. Maybe I should just poke both her eyes out with my sword. That would solve the problem.’ He lifts it up and makes poking motions up at the sky.
‘Here’s someone casually making morbid statements over here,’ Hijikata shudders, ‘You’re really gonna be mistaken as a tsujigiri one of these days.’
‘How rude, Hijikata-san,’ Sougo smirks, still holding his sword aloft, ‘Please don’t forget. I’m a policeman.’
From his viewpoint lying down, he sees an upside-down Kondo-san coming up at Hijikata-san’s other side.
‘Did you make a promise to meet again Sougo? Tie each other’s hair around your pinky like what I’ve heard they do in Yoshiwara. Ahh, I wish I could have done that with my beloved Otae-san.’
For a moment, Sougo thinks he sees a red strand of hair on his pinky, before it disappears. ‘We don’t need something as fragile as that Kondo-san. The only red thread I need is the blood I draw from her throat the next time we meet.’
‘And he’s back to saying casually disturbing things again.’ Kondo-san’s white in the face, and Hijikata-san’s shaking his head at him as if he’s hopeless.
Sougo narrows his eyes at him. ‘Die already Hijikata-san. You’re disturbing my nap.’
True to his word Sougo falls asleep in moments. They notice he hasn’t drawn his eyemask to cover his eyes like he usually does. They smile at each other, and leave it at that, wondering what twisted little sadists dream about. Maybe whips and chains, they wonder, and then blanch.
Unexpectedly it’s a lot more innocent than that. Sougo dreams about clear blue skies and falling pink blossoms dancing in the wind. He dreams of a mat big enough and a kotatsu big enough to fit them all, whether it’s for a flower viewing party or sharing nabe. Amongst them all, he can’t be sure but he thinks he sees his oneechan. She’s next to Hijibaka, but maybe he can let it slide just this once, since he still has a China brat to beat with the toy mallet in his hand, and from the cheeky grin she has, it looks like she has the same idea.
'How about you aneue? What’s your favorite?’
‘Hm, me, Sou-chan? Well, I like it when the flowers start to blossom and things start to grow again. You see, oneechan really loves spring!’