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Toushirou is happy in Bushuu. This always surprises him. He had not believed he would be happy again, not since his mother's death left him with a family that hated him, not since bandits took his brother's kind eyes, not since the family deemed him a violent little monster to be feared and avoided.
But Kondo, with his big heart and his warm smile, brought Toushirou back to society. He was ready, back then, to die nameless and homeless out in the countryside, a stupid teenage ronin with nothing to live for.
“What's your name, anyway?” Kondo asks him, nearly a week after Toushirou first comes to stay at the dojo. Kondo had introduced himself long ago, while Toushirou hadn't wanted to speak, let alone give his name to some fool with a habit of picking up strays. But Toushirou has allowed himself to be taken in, and Kondo has to call him something.
What, though? He hasn't called himself Hijikata since he left that house. “It's Toushirou,” he says.
Kondo nods, likely noticing the absence of a family name but saying nothing about it. “Toshi, huh?”
Toushirou scowls. “Toushirou.”
“I don't know about you, but I'm starving, Toshi. Let's get something to eat.” He turns and starts walking towards the town.
“Hey.” When Kondo doesn't stop walking, Toushirou starts jogging to catch up to him. “You're not gonna keep calling me that, are you?”
Kondo doesn't respond, but even from behind him, Toushirou can tell how widely he's grinning.
It is only then, when Kondo knows his name, that he introduces him to her. “This is Sougo's sister, Mitsuba” is all Kondo says, but Mitsuba smiles at him, and that's all it really takes. Toushirou doesn't realize it then, doesn't realize it for weeks or months, but that first smile is when he falls in love with her. Kondo waits for him to introduce himself, but Toushirou can't seem to find any words, so Kondo continues. “This is Toshi. He's staying at the dojo for now. Sougo probably mentioned him.”
Mitsuba laughs, and something in Toushirou's chest clenches. “Yes, Sou-chan said he got a new kouhai. I wasn't expecting someone my age.” Toushirou's cheeks burn at the thought of this woman knowing he calls her baby brother senpai, but there is nothing he can do about it now. “So, you're Toshi-san?” Mitsuba asks.
“Toushirou.”
“Toushirou-san, then,” she says.
The tightness in his chest increases.
They spend plenty of time together over the following months. Kondo loves both Okita siblings, and he finds joy in bringing them with him as often as he can. Toushirou gets dragged along more often than not, his desire to be alone infinitesimal against the overwhelming power of Kondo's will for him to socialize.
Toushirou finds his gaze drawn to Mitsuba more often than he would dare to admit, even to himself. He lies that it's because of her love of spicy food, her shocking resemblance to her angry little brother, her simply being the first girl his own age he's ever met. But it's none of those things, or it's all of them and so much more. It's her gentle touch and soft smile. It's the way that she says Toushirou's name. It's the way she looks at him. He wonders if this is the same expression he wears when he looks at her. He hopes not. That kind of tenderness is beautiful on her, but it doesn't suit a thorny boy like him.
He only kisses her once. As a teenager, little more than a child, he is terrified of intimacy, terrified of romance, terrified of their mutual feelings.
They sit together most nights, after Sougo tires himself out trying to break them apart (or simply break Toushirou) and Toushirou is worn from a day of training. Mitsuba makes them eat something filling that, if they're lucky, isn't too spicy to bear. She puts Sougo to bed. Then she and Toushirou drink tea together and watch the stars. He's not much of a talker with her, always too tongue-tied to get many words out. Instead he listens to her stories, or else they sit in a comfortable silence, sipping their tea.
Toushirou spends an hour thinking about holding her hand, edging his fingers closer and closer to hers, always pulling away at the last second. And then Mitsuba reaches over to lay her hand on his or weave their fingers together. He marvels at how much braver than him she is.
But on one such night, he kisses her. He's been working up to it for weeks, sure, but he is the one who leans over and presses his lips to hers. He pulls back, worried somehow that he misread this, but Mitsuba smiles at him. He moves forward again, lips parted, determined to do this properly.
Sougo wakes up then, and he wanders over, demanding to know why they're spending time together behind his back. He plops himself down between them and promptly falls back asleep, his head resting against his sister's shoulder. Toushirou can't possibly compete with that.
The next day, Kondo announces that they are going to Edo to make a name for themselves, and just like that, it's over.
Toushirou spends two days thinking about nothing else, even as Kondo lectures him for not being focused and Sougo pummels him with a practice sword. He thinks and thinks about his future and who will be in it.
He chooses to go with Kondo and Sougo to Edo, in the end, as he knew he would. He does not ask Mitsuba to come with them because he knows that she would say yes if he did. It's not that he doesn't love her. If that was true, his chest wouldn't have ached for months at the thought of her. It's difficult even to look at Sougo sometimes, the resemblance between them is so strong.
But Toushirou knows, even then, that he is unlikely to live long. Mitsuba deserves a long, peaceful, and happy life, and Toushirou doubts he can give her any of those.
He loves her. He loves her so much. He lies restless at night, his thoughts of Mitsuba turning into fretful dreams about her health. He dreams of her having a job, a husband, a child. He dreams that they come to Edo to visit their old friends from the countryside, and Sougo is a menace of an uncle. He dreams that Kondo lifts the child onto his shoulders like he sometimes carries Sougo, and Mitsuba smiles.
When he wakes, all Toushirou can remember of the dream is that her husband did not have his face. He gathers his sparse possessions into a pack, slings it over his shoulder, and follows Kondo out onto the road.
What it comes down to is this: Toushirou can see Mitsuba having a life without him. He cannot see himself having a life without Kondo.
And so he goes to Edo.
He makes just one stop before leaving for the city with his companions. He does not intend to spend this meal in complete silence, but he does not know what to say. His brother seems not to know what to ask, either. The only sounds from the room are those of their chopsticks against the china bowls or the gentle thud of a tea cup being placed back on the table.
Tamegoro has a family now. He has a wife, and she will soon give him children. There is no place for Toushirou here, even if he wanted to return.
Kondo knows better than to ask Toushirou how it went. He simply claps him on the shoulder, grins, and says “Let's go, Toshi!”
Where Kondo goes, he will follow. That is Hijikata's place.
The change from Roshigumi to Shinsengumi is a promotion, certainly, but one that comes at a cost. As Kondo's trusted second-in-command, Hijikata is allowed to attend the meeting with Matsudaira and the rest of the higher ups to determine what the Shinsengumi will be allowed to do. They write up the contracts that allow them to carry swords and the basic codes of conduct that the special police will be expected to adhere to. “You can come up with your own rules for the organization,” Matsudaira says, “but break any of these, and you'll be in cells with the criminals you arrest.”
A few days later, Kondo, Hijikata, and the captains are permitted to collect swords from the armory to take back to the new Shinsengumi headquarters for their men. Okita looks at his with shining eyes, but Hijikata's grip on the sheath is tense.
This is the first time he has had a sword of his own. It is exciting, in a way. He doesn't blame Okita for the look of boyish joy on his face as he takes practice swings in the yard. But Hijikata cannot make himself feel the same way.
“What is it, Toshi?” Kondo stands beside Hijikata, where they watch Okita slice Yamazaki's badminton shuttlecock in half in mid-air.
“The age of samurai is over, Kondo-san. They've given us swords, but it isn't the same.”
“The way of the samurai isn't about swords or titles. It's about what we do, what we feel in our souls. In that way, we'll always be samurai, even if we're working as policemen.”
“It's not just that. We had to negotiate the uniforms. The jacket, vest, and cravat look fine, it's just... No kimono, no hakama, no haori. It feels like we're giving too much to the Amanto. It makes me wonder what we'll be allowed to keep.” Hijikata unsheathes his sword, trying to adjust to the heft and weight of it. He tilts the blade so he can look at his reflection in the shining steel. Then, in a sudden motion, he grabs the ponytail he's worn for years and slices it off.
“Toshi?!”
Hijikata drops the bundle of hair unceremoniously on the floor. “I don't need that anymore,” he says, his voice flat. His hair falls about his face, somehow both too long and too short.
Kondo watches him. Hijikata simply stands with his sword held loosely in his hand, looking down at his discarded samurai's hair. Kondo reaches up to his own hair. He unties the topknot and, as Hijikata turns to look at him, cuts the long tail, running his hand through what's left. Kondo can tell without having to look that it's an uneven mess. Hijikata stares at him. Kondo just grins.
“Come on, Toshi. Let's go to a barber and get ourselves cleaned up.”
When they get back, Okita looks at them for a moment before decreeing that they both look like idiots and if Hijikata wanted a change, he should have come to him instead. “I'd be happy to take your head off for you free of charge, Hijikata-san.”
Hijikata scowls. Kondo laughs. Oddly enough, the death threat makes Hijikata feel normal again.
“Kondo-san, you're taking forever with that report. Are you finished yet?”
Kondo looks up at him, his eyes brimming with tears. “No!” he says. “Doing this paperwork is so hard! Why do we have to fill out so many forms, Toshi?”
Hijikata sighs. Their commander sounds like a child refusing to eat his vegetables at dinner. “We're not just students at a dojo or rogue samurai anymore. We're police officers. The police have to be held accountable for their actions, and that means paperwork.”
“But it's so hard. I've never had to do this much writing just to make a friend.”
“It's recruitment, Kondo-san, not making friends.”
“Just because he's a new recruit doesn't mean he's not our friend! He's one of us. Brothers in arms, friends, family. That's what I want the Shinsengumi to be. I don't see what these papers have to do with any of that.”
Hijikata sits down next to him. “If something happens to us, we need to know who to tell. If he does something wrong, we need to be able to tell the Bakufu who he is and what consequences we set. We need to be able to pay him, to house him in our barracks, to feed him in our cafeteria. That's why we have the forms.”
Kondo groans and leans back, his arm brushing against Hijikata's as he stretches. “But it's so boring, and it takes so long. I just want to get out onto the streets and protect the people. There are bad Amanto and dangerous Jouishishi out there. I don't want to be at a desk forever.”
“At the rate you're going, you're not gonna be finished with this report until next year.”
“Don't say that! What if I really am doing recruitment papers all year? I'm not good at this kind of thing.”
Hijikata puts out his cigarette and nudges Kondo with his shoulder. “Move over. I can't be waiting on you forever. I'll finish this. And the report you've tried hiding under it. You haven't even started this one, have you?”
“Really? Thanks, Toshi!”
“Hey, listen to me when I talk.”
“You're a real lifesaver. Whatever would I do without you?”
There are a few moments of silence as Hijikata looks over the papers Kondo has started working on. Then he shrugs and says, “Die, I guess.”
Kondo falls over dramatically. “Toshi! How could you say such a thing? I've never heard anything so horrible!”
“Without me, you would be crushed under the weight of all your unfinished paperwork, Kondo-san. You should be grateful I'm picking up the pieces.”
Kondo reaches over from the floor and wraps his arms around Hijikata's waist. He looks up at him, beaming. “Of course I'm grateful, Toshi. I'm always grateful for everything you do.”
Hijikata blinks twice, then looks away, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “You don't have to flatter me, Kondo-san,” he says. “I already agreed to do the paperwork.”
Kondo sits silently at his desk. It's unusual. It's so unusual that it makes Hijikata sit down next to him. He doesn't say anything either. He knows that just being there lets Kondo know he's willing to listen to his problems.
“They want us to eliminate the Jouishishi,” Kondo says.
“So?” Hijikata asks, taking a drag off his cigarette. “That's not any different from what you told us before.”
“But it is, Toshi. When they told me the first time, I thought we'd be cleaning up the streets. I thought we'd be making arrests. That's what police officers do, isn't it? But they want us to kill them.”
Hijikata blows another cloud of smoke out into the room. “Have you ever killed anyone, Kondo-san?”
“I've never even thought about it.”
“I have.”
There is a long pause during which Kondo waits to see if Hijikata will tell him more. He knows better than to ask outright. Hijikata doesn't talk about his past if he can avoid it.
“Don't worry about it, Kondo-san. If you don't want to kill people, you shouldn't do it. Let Sougo and I get blood on our hands. You can make the arrests. We'll handle the dirty work.”
“I can't ask you to do that for me.”
“Sure you can. Sougo's been itching to kill someone his whole life. You can tell. And like I said, it won't be my first time.”
“But it's too much responsibility to pass off to you two without shouldering a burden of my own.”
Hijikata stands. “It's fine, Kondo-san. Really. We have your back.”
He leaves before Kondo can argue any further.
It works for a while. The Shinsengumi are such a new police force that they are able to take the Jouishishi by surprise. Hijikata, Okita, and the rest of the first squad sweep through, killing the most dangerous of the insurgents and clearing the way for Kondo to incapacitate the rest. They get plenty of Joui rebels this way.
But theirs is a dangerous job, and the Jouishishi don't take their interference lying down. Before long, they're not just waiting for the Shinsengumi to come to arrest them; they're going out to hunt the Shinsengumi down. In every encounter, the criminals strike to kill.
Hijikata doesn't think Kondo means to do it. It's nothing more than instinct. A man comes out of the shadows with a drawn sword and attacks. Kondo parries the blow and counters it. His blade cuts deep into the man's chest. The man falls, bleeding out on the ground.
Kondo stands there, eyes wide, with blood dripping down the blade of his sword.
Hijikata finds him that night, sitting silently at his desk once more. Again, Hijikata sits beside him and lights a cigarette.
“I feel terrible.”
“Of course you do, Kondo-san. You're a good person.”
“Am I? I have an awful lot of blood on my hands.”
“No, you don't.”
“Yes, I do.” Kondo turns to Hijikata, his eyes clear and fierce. Hijikata is a little surprised. He thought Kondo might be crying. “It's not just this man. Everyone you or Sougo or anyone else in the Shinsengumi has killed. Those deaths are all my responsibility. And there are going to be more.”
“We're doing it to protect the people. Every Joui we take out or put away is another terrorist who can't hurt civilians.”
“I know that. But it doesn't feel like a victory anymore.”
They sit in silence and cigarette smoke before Kondo asks him.
“What was your first time like?”
“Is now the time for dirty stories?”
“Toshi. You know what I mean.” He doesn't say please, but Hijikata can hear it in his voice. He sighs. He hadn't been planning on telling Kondo about this.
“I was eleven.” Kondo's eyes widen, and Hijikata doesn't blame him. “I lived in a farmhouse at the time. My father had been successful, acquiring enough wealth to support a large family and a mistress. When my mother died, I was sent to live with them, even though my father had died before I was born. They didn't want me. They had no time for the mistress’ son.
“Only the oldest son, Tamegoro, cared for me. He was a good brother. He looked out for me. But it couldn't last.
“One day, there was a fire. I still don't know how it started. I wouldn't be surprised if the family set it themselves to get rid of me. A pair of bandits used the chaos as a cover to break into the house, and they attacked me.” He remembers closing his eyes as they swung the knife toward him. It was why he hadn't seen Tamegoro coming.
“My brother saved me. He stepped in and took the blow, but he was blinded. I saw him holding his face with blood running over his hands, and I snapped. I still don't know what exactly I did. The next thing I knew, I was holding the knife, and the bandits were the ones on the ground. I'd carved out their eyes.”
“You were so young,” Kondo says.
Hijikata snorts. “There's no right age for it.”
Kondo still looks like the world is coming undone around him. Hijikata sighs. He doesn't talk this much. His throat is starting to hurt already. But he can't just leave Kondo like this.
“The second time, I was fourteen,” he says. “I'd left that house, and I was wandering around the countryside, stealing food and sleeping in empty houses. Every now and then, strangers would offer a hot meal or a roof to sleep under or both.”
This is an ugly story, one that Hijikata doesn't like remembering. He tells it anyway. “There was an older couple who fed me once. Someone else saw it happen. He must have decided that if they had enough to share with me, then they had enough for him to take. He broke in.
“It was the first time I had ever seen a real sword. I had a wooden one I'd stolen from some dojo, but this was live steel. He was going to kill me and the couple, I knew it. So I killed him first. I took his sword, and I drove it through his chest.” Hijikata doesn't mention the horror and fear in the couple's eyes when he stood before them covered in blood. It hadn't been the first time someone had looked at him like that.
“What did you do with the sword?” Kondo asks. “You didn't have it when we met.”
“I sold it,” Hijikata says. “I needed food more than I needed that kind of weapon.” He takes another drag off his cigarette before looking back at Kondo. “I'm not going to tell you it gets easier, Kondo-san, because it doesn't. It just becomes something that you're used to living with.”
“Aneue is sick,” Okita says. Hijikata doesn't look at him even though he knows Sougo is watching him. “She's been sick for a while, and she's not getting better. I'm going back to see her.”
“Of course, Sougo,” Kondo says. “Take as much time as you need. In fact, I'm coming with you. I don't want you two to be alone.”
Kondo isn't as subtle as Okita is, so he openly turns to look at Hijikata, who stares resolutely down at his papers. They wait and wait until finally Hijikata speaks.
“Someone has to stay to keep the Shinsengumi running.”
Okita makes a sound of blatant disgust. Hijikata can feel waves of bitter hatred coming off of him. Kondo just looks disappointed.
They know better than to try to convince him. Okita and Kondo leave the next day. Hijikata throws himself into work, walking ceaselessly about the city, hunting down criminals, waiting for them to come back. Waiting for them to tell him how she is. Kondo is away for a week; Okita stays in Bushuu for nearly a month. When he finally comes back to Edo, he looks older.
“It's not that she can't get better,” Kondo tells Hijikata during the second week of Okita's absence. “She has good days. She had good days while we were there. But she can't be cured. There are no doctors in Bushuu who know how to help her. I don't even know if there are any doctors in Edo who could cure her.” He looks at Hijikata, who does not return his gaze. “You should go see her, Toshi. We might be saying goodbye to her again sooner than you think.”
Hijikata lights a cigarette and takes a long drag before speaking. “I'm not going back,” he says.
“Okay, Toshi.” Kondo looks at him sadly. The pity in his eyes makes Hijikata nauseous.
It's not that Hijikata doesn't want to go back. What he wants has never factored into this equation at all. It's that he can't go back without completely undercutting his decision to leave her in the first place. It would be unkind to go back to her with no intentions of staying with her. He did it so she could be happy.
She's not happy, a voice in his head says. She's sick. She's dying. She's alone because of you.
Another drag off the cigarette. The voice sounds like Okita sometimes. Usually it just sounds like Toushirou.
Of course Hijikata doesn't think twice about it. He sees Kondo facing off against three Jouishishi and a fourth coming up behind him, unseen. If he yells a warning, one of the three in front might cut Kondo down. If not, the fourth certainly will. So Hijikata throws himself between them.
He hears the the sound of sharp steel slicing through flesh, but he ignores it. He thrusts his own sword upward, piercing cleanly through the offending Jouishishi. The man falls to the ground, dead.
Hijikata looks down and is unsurprised to find himself covered in his own blood. He presses his hand to his chest, feeling the line where the Joui sword has opened him to the world. It feels very warm and very, very wet.
He crumples, his blood turning the dirt below him to mud. Hijikata is dimly aware of Kondo shouting above him as his world abruptly goes dark.
When he awakens, he is lying in a bed, and he is in an incredible amount of pain. He blinks against the light, gritting his teeth so as not to cry out. He hears sniffling coming from his bedside. Kondo is there, crying. He's always crying.
“You're always crying, Kondo-san,” Hijikata says. His voice is hoarse, and he realizes how dry his throat is.
“Toshi!” Kondo throws himself onto Hijikata with no regard for his injuries, prompting a loud groan. Kondo ignores it. “I thought you died!”
Okita's voice comes from somewhere out of sight. “I hoped you died.”
“Not now, Sougo!”
“I will die if you don't get off of me, Kondo-san,” Hijikata says, suppressing a cough.
Kondo sits back up again with a hasty apology. “Sorry, sorry. The doctor will get mad. But I was terrified, Toshi. I thought we were going to lose you.”
“If only.”
“I said not now, Sougo!” Kondo grabs Hijikata's hand with both of his, holding him with surprising gentleness. Kondo's hands are warm. The rough calluses on his palms don't bother Hijikata; he has them too. “I'm sorry, Toshi. You got hurt because of me. I should have seen that guy coming.”
Hijikata shakes his head. “It's the Vice-Commander's duty to protect his Commander,” he says. He is very tired. They've put just the right number of blankets over him to be comfortable, and he can feel the edges of sleep creeping back over his mind.
“I don't care about titles. I care about you.”
“Then it's my duty to protect you, Kondo-san. It always will be.”
Kondo is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks again, it is too late; Hijikata has already fallen back asleep.
It is an open secret that no member of the Shinsengumi has ever actually been forced to commit seppuku under Hijikata's orders. This is not for lack of trying. Hijikata means what he commands, even if he commands it liberally. It's simply that Kondo will not allow it.
“I thought you said I was in charge of discipline, Kondo-san.”
“You are.”
“Then why are you superseding my commands? The Kyokuchuu Hatto has no meaning if we don't follow through with it.”
“Because it's a waste, Toshi.” Hijikata and Kondo trade frowns with each other. Hijikata is frustrated, and Kondo concerned. “They're good men who do good work and have skill with a sword. They may have broken some of your rules, but they still have the spirit of the Shinsengumi in their hearts, and we both know that that's what's important. That's what the Kyokuchuu Hatto protects.”
Hijikata's frown deepens. “But how am I supposed to discipline them if the Commander keeps giving them passes?”
Kondo laughs. “Never thought a thorny kid like you would have trouble with discipline. Come on, Toshi, you're cleverer than this. You know there's more than one way to punish someone. Have you become so used to using a sword that you've forgotten how to swing your fists?”
“You're giving me permission to beat them up?” Hijikata raises his eyebrows.
“You don't need my permission. I know you've been doing it anyway. I think it's good training. Hard to be afraid of what a Joui rebel on the street might do to you when you've survived a beating from the Demon Vice-Commander. And I've never ended up anywhere but the right path when you've hit me.”
Hijikata sighs. He doubts he'll ever win one of these discussions with Kondo. “You have a remarkable amount of faith in my aim, Kondo-san.”
“Well, you have yet to let me down. You always hit the mark.” Kondo throws an arm over Hijikata's shoulders, pulling him in close. “And if you don't make them kill themselves, they'll live long enough to love you instead of just fearing you.”
“No one's gonna love me for beating the crap out of them.”
Kondo ruffles Hijikata's hair so vigorously that it disrupts both his balance and the V-shape of his bangs. He stumbles, and when he looks up again, Kondo is beaming down at him.
“Wait and see, Toshi. Wait and see.” He presses his lips to the top of Hijikata's head. Kondo releases him with a grin.
Hijikata turns pink, then bright red, embarrassment coloring his face like the overflowing of a cup. “Wh-- K-Kondo-san, what are you... What?”
“No need to get so shy over a little peck, Toshi!”
Hijikata splutters. “I'm... I'm not Otae, you stupid, lumbering moron! What are you doing k-kissing me?”
“I have to show my love somehow, or you'll forget what it feels like.”
“Quit it! Save that sort of talk for the Shimura girl or that damn gorilla you got engaged to! Dammit, where's my phone? I'm gonna call Matsudaira right now and see if we can still marry you off.”
Kondo's laugh, booming and soul-deep, resounds throughout the station.
When she dies, Hijikata thinks it might kill him too. He keeps eating those spicy senbei, the heat of them making his nose run, the fire in his mouth masking the cause of his tears. It's an obvious ploy, and he knows that the Yorozuya bastard knows it. But even he has the tact not to say anything.
He eats those crackers all night. At three in the morning, when Kondo notices the light in Hijikata's room, he comes in and eats them too. Kondo breathes fire into the dark sky, and then he wipes the tears from his eyes. “Mitsuba-dono really loved these, didn't she?”
Hijikata sniffles and takes another bite even though the spice is starting to really hurt his stomach. “She did.”
Kondo wants to say something. It's all over his face. Hijikata doesn't want him to. He doesn't want him to say that Mitsuba loved him too, because he knows that. He doesn't want Kondo to tell him that Mitsuba wouldn't have wanted him to cry, because he knows that too. Hijikata doesn't want to hear what Kondo has to say. He knows that he made a hard decision and that Kondo doesn't blame him for it. He knows it's not his fault Mitsuba died. He knows all of that.
“You don't have to keep eating them, Toshi. It's okay.”
The senbei falls from Hijikata's hand. He doesn't know how he goes from staring blankly at the broken pieces on the floor to sobbing into Kondo's pajamas. He has a vague recollection of Kondo patting his back and making soothing noises, telling him “it's okay, it's okay” over and over again.
They stay like that for a while, with Hijikata ruining Kondo's stupid banana print pajama top, until Hijikata starts to recover his composure. He suddenly finds himself being lifted up off the floor. Kondo carries him like a child out of the room. Hijikata wonders if he should care, but the trip is brief. Kondo slides another door open and deposits Hijikata carefully onto the floor of another captain's quarters.
The air is freezing. The door to the yard must have been open for hours. Okita sits there like he's made of stone. He's still wearing his uniform. His eyes are red and his breath catches, but he did his crying in the hospital room with his sister's hand cooling in his grasp.
Hijikata sniffles loudly, fresh tears making their way down his cheeks. He expects Okita to mock him for this pathetic display of emotion, but he says nothing. He doesn't turn around even when Kondo puts a hand on his shoulder and says his name. That's how Hijikata knows Okita isn't as serene as he looks. He would never ignore Kondo like that.
“You have to sleep, Sougo.”
Okita still says nothing. Hijikata doesn't think he can hear him.
Kondo sighs and goes to the closet, pulling out futons and blankets and readying them for use. Hijikata watches as he places three pillows onto the bedding, not quite comprehending the gesture Kondo gives him. Kondo sets about replacing Okita's uniform with pajamas. He leads Okita to the futon, stopping short when he notices Hijikata still sitting on the floor.
“We're going to sleep, Toshi.” Kondo pushes Okita down and covers him with a blanket. When Kondo lies down beside him, Okita instantly curls up against him like a child. Kondo watches Hijikata expectantly. The last open pillow looks lonely.
Hijikata hesitates. He shouldn't be here. He has no right to mourn in Okita's room. He should go back to his own bed, alone, like he deserves.
But Hijikata cannot ignore Kondo's will, and he does not want to be alone, so he lies down beside them. Despite the chill lingering in the air, the blankets are warm, and soon the sound of Kondo's snoring fills the room. Hijikata doesn't know if Okita is asleep. He doesn't even know if Kondo is asleep. He could just be faking the snores. He does it often enough to get out of work.
Hijikata takes the risk of believing Kondo really is out. If Kondo was awake, Hijikata would never dare to press himself against Kondo's side, matching the pace of his breathing until he falls asleep.
Hijikata wakes up at dawn the next morning. The ache of his injuries is enough to pierce the haze of sleep. He sits up slowly, wincing as he strains his tender muscles.
Beside him, Kondo has turned toward Okita in his sleep, and Okita has wrapped his arms around Kondo's back, holding him tightly in his sleep. There are tear tracks crossing the bridge of his nose. Hijikata wonders if Okita was even awake when he shed them.
As quietly as he can, Hijikata stands up and folds the extra futon. He places the pillow on top of it in the closet and sneaks back to his own room. By the time Kondo and Okita wake, it is as though Hijikata was never there.
Hijikata rises at six in the morning, as he has every morning for the last several years. He strips off the yukata he wears for sleeping, replacing it with the stiff black, white, and gold of his Shinsengumi uniform.
Kondo sits across from him in the mess hall, setting his breakfast tray down next to Hijikata's plate of what is now mostly mayonnaise.
They chat about nothing. Sougo is still up to his usual tricks. “He rolled a grenade into the bathroom while I was taking a piss,” Hijikata says while Kondo laughs. Yamazaki is still playing badminton. “One of these days I'm going to break all of his rackets.” Someone has taken to leaving bananas in the hall by Kondo's door. “Do I really look that much like a gorilla? Why aren't you saying no?”
Once they bus their trays, it's time to head out for their various tasks for the day. Hijikata has a route to cover, and he's sure that Kondo will be doing a diligent patrol of the Shimura home. He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette, already dreading the injuries Kondo will sustain from his endeavors.
Suddenly, there are hands on Hijikata's chest. Kondo tugs Hijikata's jacket back into place and adjusts his cravat. When he's finished, he thumps Hijikata on the shoulder. “You know, Toshi,” Kondo says, “I remember when you didn't want to wear this uniform. But it looks really good on you, don't you think?”
“I've never thought about how it looks,” Hijikata says. “I do like that it's easy to move around in. I'm not sure about all these layers in the summer, though.”
Kondo pats him on the shoulder, that boisterous laugh of his bubbling up from his belly. “Well, take it from me, then: you look great. I bet you've broken a lot of hearts out there, wandering around the city looking like this. Although,” he says, pausing. He moves his hand from Hijikata's shoulder to the back of his neck, his fingers brushing the short hairs at his nape. Hijikata jumps but doesn't pull away. “I do sometimes miss your long hair,” Kondo finishes.
When Hijikata sets out on his patrol, he feels very warm despite the fact that it's still only spring. An hour later, he catches sight of his reflection in a storefront window and smiles. Despite, or because of, Kondo's efforts, his cravat is still crooked.
The owner of the izakaya already knows their names, their faces, their favorite meats, and Kondo's favorite sake. It's not surprising. They come here two or three times a month so Kondo can drink away his feelings, cry about them, or both.
“Heartbroken again, Kondo-san?” the owner says, a tender smile playing about her face.
“Is it that obvious?” Kondo asks, wiping away the tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Not at all!”
“You don't have to pamper him, Tanaka-san,” Hijikata says. “He knows.”
“You should be pampering me, Toshi!” Kondo lays his head down on the counter. Tears pool under his face.
“You've got good sake, there's karaage, we have yakiniku on the way, and I'm footing the bill. I don't think I can spoil you any more than this.”
“I'd rather you got me a date than a meal. Come on, play wingman for me!”
“No thanks. Besides, what are you doing, looking for a date? I thought you'd decided that Shimura girl was the only one for you.”
“Who else would I want you to help me date?”
“In that case...” Kondo looks up, his eyes hopeful. “It's definitely impossible.”
Kondo's head thumps back onto the counter. “Toshi! Come on, can't you put in another good word for me? Everyone listens to what you say, and pretty girls love you.”
Hijikata rolls his eyes. “I'm not interested in gathering bruises like the ones you come home with after you go to her store.”
“They're love taps!”
“That's not love, and they're not taps.” Hijikata accepts the platter of grilled meat the cook passes to him. “Honestly, you're thinking about it too much. Just give it time. She'll see your appeal eventually.”
“And what is my appeal, Toshi? What exactly am I waiting for Otae-san to understand?”
Hijikata chews a mayo-laden piece of beef thoughtfully. “Your strength as a leader?” he says.
Kondo grabs him by the arm. “I don't want to recruit Otae-san! I want her to see my charms as a boyfriend, or a husband! I don't need her to think I'm all about work.”
“Let go of me, Kondo-san.” Hijikata shrugs off his grip. “Listen. Just take it easy on the stalking and don't worry about when she'll return your feelings. Your persistence is as strong as your skill with a sword. You got me and Sougo that way, after all.”
Kondo frowns at a bite of chicken. “Did I?”
Hijikata laughs. “Well, I'm here now, aren't I?”
He thinks of her sometimes, when he passes the hot sauce in the supermarket. He fills his basket with mayo and remembers how pretty her food looked next to his. A bowl covered in pale yellow beside a bowl so crimson with spice that it hurt your stomach just to look at it. He empties his shopping bag into the mayo fridge at headquarters and is mystified by the bottle of hot sauce that has managed to slip into his purchases without his noticing.
He thinks of her sometimes, when he spots super spicy senbei hanging on the racks at the fronts of stores. He eats them when he's off-duty, and though his eyes water every time, he does not cry.
He thinks of her sometimes, when Sougo falls asleep with his mask still on the top of his head instead of over his eyes. He looks peaceful then, and only then, with his head resting against a post and his arms crossed over his chest. It reminds him of their youth, when Sougo would fall asleep leaning against his sister while she sat drinking tea with Hijikata. It reminds him of her.
He thinks of her sometimes. But only sometimes.
“Did you see him?”
“All covered in blood, and not an ounce of remorse in his eyes.”
“What happened to Tamegoro was awful, but it doesn't justify what that child did to them ”
“He's frightening.”
“He's dangerous.”
“Should we let him stay? With a person like that, there's no telling who he'll hurt next. It could be one of us.”
“Maybe we should go to the family head. Even at his age, it's not safe to have him here anymore.”
“He's a monster.”
Monster.
You're a monster.
Hijikata's eyes snap open. He frowns immediately. It's been a long time since he dreamed of that house, and the memories are unwelcome. He glances at the clock. It's a few minutes before five. The sun isn't even up yet, but Hijikata knows he won't be able to fall back asleep. With a groan, he hauls himself out of bed and settles at his desk to resume his paperwork.
He is in the meeting room at exactly 7:30, giving himself half an hour to prepare his notes for the meeting and give Kondo a quick debriefing before the captains arrive. He suppresses a yawn as Kondo walks in ten minutes after he is scheduled, which is exactly when Hijikata expects him.
“You're late, Kondo-san,” Hijikata says, as he has done almost every day since the Shinsengumi was formed.
“Sleep is precious, Toshi,” he says. “You would do well to remember that.” His serious tone is undercut by a massive yawn. This time Hijikata can't resist, and his own yawn follows. Kondo raises both eyebrows in surprise. “Are you tired? That's unusual for you so early.”
“I didn't sleep well,” Hijikata says, not caring to mention why.
“We should cancel the morning briefing and go back to bed,” Kondo says, nodding sagely at his own suggestion.
“I have never missed a morning meeting since we started the Shinsengumi,” Hijikata says, “and I don't intend to start now.”
“Fine, fine. We'll do it your way.”
The briefing goes as it always does. Hijikata does most of the talking, interrupted only by Okita. The other captains have the maturity to wait until Hijikata calls for questions or feedback to speak, and when they do, they express legitimate concerns instead of open death threats.
After the meeting, the captains are dismissed to give their squads their assignments. Hijikata stands and stretches, the action pulling another yawn out of him. Kondo stands too, grinning widely at him.
Hijikata frowns, suspicious. “What are you so happy about?”
“The meeting is over.”
“Yes, so it's time to get to work.”
“Nope!” Kondo's grin gets even wider. “That means it's nap time!”
“Like hell it is. I never agreed to this.”
“Okay. I just won't give you any choice in the matter, then.” Before Hijikata can ask what he means, Kondo has picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like he did when they were teens. Kondo pushes the door open, ignoring Hijikata's protests, and carries him back to his room. He lowers Hijikata carefully onto the futon, and he is rewarded with a smack on the head. “Ouch!”
“This is a waste of time, Kondo-san.”
“Come on, Toshi, take a nap with me! It'll be great, you'll see.”
“With you? So you're not planning on doing any work either? I should have known. You can be as bad as Sougo.”
Kondo shrugs off his jacket and vest before climbing under the covers. He flips the blanket open over the empty side of the futon in invitation. “Getting out of work is just a bonus. Come on, get in. You look exhausted.”
“You're not gonna give up, are you?”
“Nope. I'd rather not have to drag you back here again or knock you out, but you need rest. It won't do to have the Vice-Commander passing out in the middle of work.”
“I've never done that.”
“Not yet.”
Hijikata sighs. He folds his own jacket and vest neatly before joining Kondo under the covers.
“Yay!” Kondo says. He's like a child.
“Your pillow smells like an old man,” Hijikata says.
“What? No way. I'm still young, right, Toshi? Toshi?”
Hijikata doesn't answer. Now that he's lying down, the sleep deprivation is catching up to him. And, if he's being honest, being surrounded by Kondo's smell with the man himself at his back is very comforting.
Hijikata falls asleep almost instantly. He doesn't dream of anything at all.
“I'm out of cigarettes. Go get me some more.”
“Yes, Vice-Commander!”
Tetsu sprints off to the vending machine, and Hijikata runs his thumb over the wheel of his lighter while he waits.
“See, Toshi?” Kondo says from the floor where he sits. “Didn't I tell you he'd be good for you?”
“No, you didn't.”
Kondo frowns. “Didn't I?”
“No. You just told me to make him my assistant. You never said anything about quality.”
“So I didn't. Ah, that's right. I remember what it was now.” Kondo smiles. “I told Tetsu that you would be good for him.”
Hijikata snorts. “Yeah, I'm sure he loves getting his ass kicked in training and running errands for me.”
“Don't act like you don't know what you're doing for him.”
“It's not acting, Kondo-san. I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Sure, sure. You're just giving him one-on-one sword lessons, which you've never done before. You're just letting him into your office, which even Sougo and Yamazaki can't do without getting yelled at.”
“Hey, Sougo is never invited, and Yamazaki is a damn slacker--”
Kondo continues as if Hijikata hadn't spoken. “You're just looking him in the eye and refusing to give up on him the way he gave up on himself. You're just offering him a home and a family.”
Hijikata is silent for so long that they can see Tetsu running back by the time he responds. “It's what we do, isn't it? The Shinsengumi has always taken in stray dogs, even before we were called that.”
“I have the cigarettes, Vice-Commander! The machine was out of regular Mayoboros, so I got you menthols instead--ouch!”
Hijikata raises his fist, still clenched from thumping Tetsu on the head. “Goddammit, Tetsu, how many times have I told you! If the machine is out, go and get me Mayoboros from a store! I don't need this minty shit!”
Tetsu bows deeply. “My apologies, Vice-Commander! I will get you Mayoboros from the nearest tobacco stand right away, sir!”
Kondo laughs as Tetsu scurries away. “To think that even a stray dog can be taught to play fetch. It takes the right kind of man to discipline a boy like that, you know.”
“And what kind of man is that?”
Kondo's smile is warm. It makes a fond feeling bloom inside Hijikata's chest. “A good one.”
In recovery following the battle at Iga, Hijikata allows himself to lower his guard. The Shinsengumi are on high alert since three of their strongest fighters are badly injured, and Hijikata trusts them to protect him. He drifts in and out of consciousness, not quite dreaming, not quite thinking.
They survived. Against all odds, they survived. The shogun, Okita, Kondo, even the Yorozuya idiots: they all lived. They all came home. Hijikata had been sure that he and Kondo would die on that cliffside with the ninja puppeteer, but here he is, back in his own bed.
He wonders if there is any honor to be found in dying for your country. He thought he'd been about to find out. Now he doubts that he ever will.
Hijikata doesn't fight for the country. He doesn't even fight for the shogun, though he wishes no harm upon the man. It is simply that Hijikata fights for the Shinsengumi. Kondo's Shinsengumi. Hijikata's Shinsengumi. The dream that they made true.
Though it is not yet sunset, Hijikata sleeps. Opportunities for peaceful rest are rare in Edo, and he knows he must take them when he can.
He does not know that it will be his last peaceful sleep for weeks.
Hijikata wonders if working the funeral detail is a sort of punishment. Perhaps it is intended as a show of respect. To protect the shogun's remains as they are taken to their final resting place is surely an honor. But the air around them is bogged down by the oppressive weight of shame. There shouldn't be a funeral at all. They should have protected the shogun in life, not in death.
They tried, he tells himself. They tried.
They failed. They brought the shogun back to Edo, thinking it a safe space when it was just a lion's den. The lions were patient, waiting for their prey to put his foolish trust in his friends before they pounced.
The funeral is largely uneventful. The factions that have caused the most trouble lately have already succeeded. The shogun is dead; there is no need for further uprising. Still, Hijikata takes his job seriously. His eyes never stop moving, even as they drive back to headquarters. He waits for something out of the ordinary.
The car catches his eye immediately. It's an official vehicle, yet it was not checked in as a part of the procession in the morning. This is surely a problem. He needs to know who's inside.
When Hijikata sees him, he thinks his heart has stopped. Kondo looks at them with absolute calm, which Hijikata and Okita answer with shock bordering on horror. By the time they pull up to the Shinsengumi headquarters, it is far, far too late. Their Commander is long gone. All that's left a crowd of soldiers dressed in white and the limping Yorozuya come to deliver an apology.
The week after the Shinsengumi is disbanded is the hardest of Hijikata's life. He does not know what to do. All he can think about is Kondo in the back of the car, Kondo under arrest, Kondo waiting to be executed. He feels ill. He dry heaves in some alleyway, retching at the thought of Kondo dead.
He wanders the city for that first day. The bakufu gives the Shinsengumi twenty-four hours to retrieve their belongings before the headquarters is locked down, but Hijikata doesn't want to see it like that. His home stripped down to its bones, its soul torn out, the corpse left to rot in the city it tried to protect. The thought makes him sick.
Kozenigata--or, more likely, Haji--finds him as the sun sets on Edo. Hijikata barely even notices when they guide him to their little office with its fold-out sofa bed and ragged blankets. They push him down onto it, and though he doesn't want to be here, he finds himself falling asleep almost instantly. He doesn't wake until nearly noon. It isn't like him.
Both Kozenigata and Haji are there when he wakes up. Kozenigata smokes a cigar while Haji flips through case files. Hijikata sits, unmoving, on the bed.
They offer him a job and a place to stay. It's incredibly generous of them. Hijikata just nods along to whatever they say, not listening at all. He's still in shock. He keeps thinking about Kondo in that car, Kondo at an execution site, Kondo dying alone. It isn't supposed to be like this. Hijikata is supposed to die by Kondo's side. That's what he's told himself for a decade.
It was meant to be a gift. Hijikata isn't so much of a fool that he would misunderstand that. This was Kondo's last gift to the Shinsengumi, allowing its men to survive without their commander. But Kondo's death would be like carving the heart out of Hijikata's own body.
Who is he without Kondo? Is he anyone at all? Hijikata can't bear the thought that he will have to find out.
A gift. Hijikata never realized that a kindness could be so cruel.
Haji keeps catching him as he wakes up from nightmares. It is not as difficult as Hijikata wishes it was. He can't sleep anymore without having them. It's not as bad as it could be. He doesn't wake up screaming, at least. He just wakes up in a cold sweat with the image of Kondo's corpse burned into his mind, that's all.
Haji watches him with sharp eyes. It reminds him of Sougo. It's why he doesn't bother hiding the nightmares from him. A kid that smart wouldn't be fooled. So he knows that Haji sees the dark circles under his eyes, the struggle to stay awake at his desk, the late nights and too early mornings. That's why when Hijikata wakes up at four in the morning, he's not surprised that Haji is there to hand him a glass of water.
“Are they getting worse?” he asks.
“They're not getting better.” Hijikata drinks the water. His hand shakes. He tightens his grip on the empty glass to try to mask it. He doesn't look up at Haji to see if he noticed it too.
The next time, when Hijikata wakes up, he has his arm outstretched, reaching for someone he can't possibly touch. He lets his hand drop. He realizes he's fallen asleep at the desk again, so he turns out the light and moves to the bed. The clock reads a quarter past two.
He wakes up again at three, half past four, ten minutes to seven. Sometimes in his nightmares, Kondo isn't just executed; he dies screaming and alone, alone, alone. Blood doesn't usually bother Hijikata, but in his mind he has seen Kondo covered in so much of it that he's almost unrecognizable. Sometimes they don't just take his head, they take his hands, his arms, his legs, his heart.
Hijikata is delirious with lack of sleep, so Kozenigata doesn't bother assigning him work. Haji pours Hijikata a glass of Kozenigata's favorite Camus and sends him to bed.
Hijikata can't sleep. He's afraid to. Despite the early hour, Haji pours him a second drink, then a third. Anything to help him sleep.
“I want to go home,” Hijikata mumbles from beneath his blankets.
The look of unsuppressed pity on Haji's face would have infuriated Hijikata if he was of sound enough mind to see it. “I'm sorry, Hijikata-san, but the police have blocked it off. If you need something, we can try to--”
Hijikata shakes his head. “I don't mean headquarters.”
Haji frowns. “Then what do you mean?”
“It's not home if he's not there.” Hijikata buries himself deeper into the covers, the cognac having successfully made him drowsy. “I want him to come back so we can go home.”
The silence from Haji is heavy, but Hijikata doesn't notice. He slips back into sleep, where even beneath the alcohol, the nightmares await.
“You do too much for him,” Sasaki says. He doesn't look at Hijikata, just keeps typing into his phone while he speaks. “It's why the Shinsengumi could never be elite. Its members catered too much to their Commander's whims.”
The past tense stings. Hijikata clenches his fist, wishing he was wearing his sword just so he'd have something to hold. “There is no Shinsengumi without him.”
“And now there is no Shinsengumi.” Sasaki closes his phone with a loud snap and turns to face him. “Tell me, Hijikata-san. I have always respected you, but I have never understood why you respect him. What is it about Kondo Isao that inspires such foolish, unending devotion?”
Hijikata thinks for a moment. He thinks of Kondo covered in honey or completely naked at a meeting for no reason at all. He thinks about Kondo climbing up a lamp post just to get a look at Otae, only to come back covered in injuries from when she caught him. He thinks about a delinquent with a green mohawk, won over by a single demonstration of kindness. He thinks about a foolish man reaching out to a foolish boy.
“It has to be him,” Hijikata says simply. “There can be no one else.”
Sasaki looks at him, as expressionless as always. “Is that so.”
It's not a question, so Hijikata doesn't bother answering.
For the first time in nearly two weeks, Hijikata puts his uniform back on. For the first time in nearly two weeks, Hijikata actually feels like himself. Even though Sougo's ruined a perfectly good jacket by writing “die” on the back of it, this uniform feels like home. Every layer is a comfort. The weight of his sword at his hip is grounding. There's just one thing missing: the only thing that's ever mattered.
“Come on, men,” Hijikata says. “Let's go get our Commander back.”
Hijikata holds Kondo in his arms and does not let go. He smells like dirt and sweat and there is blood running down his face onto Hijikata's neck and he is alive. He is alive. Hijikata listens to his heartbeat and feels the rise and fall of Kondo's chest against his own. He is alive.
Kondo is surprised for a moment, but then he puts his arms around Hijikata's back and squeezes.
“Kondo-san,” Hijikata says, his voice cracking.
“Yeah, Toshi?”
“Let's go home.”
Kondo insists that he is not crying for Sasaki. “He wouldn't accept my tears,” Kondo says, dripping snot all over the floor. “They're not elite enough.”
He says that the tears are for Nobume, for Tetsu, for the Mimawarigumi; in short, Kondo cries for the family Sasaki left behind.
“He wouldn't want our tears,” Hijikata agrees. He pours a drink for himself, for Kondo, and for a man who cannot join them. “But I hope he'll take our sake.”
The ship that takes them away from Edo is not small, but Hijikata and Kondo share quarters within it anyway. Hijikata has excuses planned for inquiring minds. He and Kondo must discuss plans, he will say. They have a destination, but no housing for their men. They need to discuss how they will reform their squads now that they have lost so many Shinsengumi officers and gained so many of the Mimawarigumi.
But no one asks. As night falls, he is allowed to retire peacefully to the room, where he finds Kondo laying out their futons.
“You didn't eat enough at dinner,” Hijikata says. “You're recovering. You need the calories.”
“I know. But I couldn't deal with the noise and the people. I wanted to go somewhere quiet.”
“Quiet? That's not like you.”
“I know. Who have I become, some kind of monster who loves peace and quiet? What's next, smoking? Mayonnaise?”
“Rude,” Hijikata says, but there's no bite to it. He kneels down in front of Kondo, his hands clenched tightly in his lap.
“Toshi? Are you okay?”
Hijikata's throat feels thick. The words stick there. It makes it hard for him to speak. “I didn't know what to do without you.” He looks down at the white knuckles of his closed fists. “When you were arrested, and I thought I'd never see you again, I didn't know what to do. I didn't... We wouldn't even have been able to say goodbye, Kondo-san.”
“I'm sorry. But you know as well as I do that if I had let you or anyone know, I wouldn't have been the only one arrested. The Shinsengumi are a bunch of ruffians who love picking fights.”
“I didn't know what to do. I thought I'd never see you again,” Hijikata repeats. “And then in the woods, I thought you died. I thought it was over.” Hijikata lays his hands on either side of Kondo's face, cradling it gently. He stays there for a minute, not doing anything but looking. Kondo waits. “It left a scar,” Hijikata says, as if Kondo didn't already know that.
“A big one, too. It's made me even uglier.”
“I think you're beautiful.” It slips out before Hijikata can consider the ramifications. He's glad the room is dimly lit; it might hide the flush creeping into his cheeks. He clears his throat, but he doesn't let go of Kondo's face. “Battle scars are very ruggedly handsome. You'll be fine.”
“It's alright. I already know that you and Sougo are the lookers of the Shinsengumi. It hasn't changed much.” He grins at Hijikata, the same as always.
Hijikata falls silent again. He's still for long enough that Kondo frowns. The scar looks unfamiliar on the crease of his brow. Hijikata's heart aches.
“Toshi? What's--”
Hijikata leans forward, pressing his lips to the scar as tenderly as he knows how. Kondo stops talking. He looks at Hijikata, his expression a little bit confused but mostly very fond.
“Physical affection? That's very unusual for you, Toshi. Maybe I died after all, and this is heaven?”
Hijikata does let go of Kondo's face then, but only so he can embrace him properly. He wraps his arms around Kondo's chest and buries his face in Kondo's neck. “Don't joke like that,” he says. “I was worried.”
Kondo pats his back soothingly. “I know, Toshi. But I'm here.”
“What would I do without you?” Hijikata asks.
Kondo chuckles, a memory from years ago coming back to him. “Die, I guess.”
Hijikata goes very still. He leans slowly back up, and he stares into Kondo's eyes with an intensity Kondo has never seen this closely before. “Yeah,” he says. “I would die.”
Kondo blinks. Then he splutters. “Wh... T-Toshi! You're not supposed to agree! It was a joke!”
“Well, I'm being serious. If you die before me, I'm gonna die too. But first I'm gonna find your ghost and kick your spectral ass for leaving us.”
A lopsided grin makes its way onto Kondo's face. “But Toshi, you hate ghosts.”
A smile blooms across Hijikata's face. It is the rarest of sights, a genuine smile from him. Perhaps he realizes this, because he hugs Kondo tightly again, preventing him from seeing his face.
“Yeah, I do hate ghosts, so don't make me beat one up, you dick.”
Hijikata wakes up with his heart racing and his body drenched in sweat. He doesn't know why he's still having the nightmares. Kondo is right here. No one else could possibly snore so loudly Hijikata can hear it from the next room over. Kondo is alive.
But the image of his severed head still haunts him.
Hijikata shakes his head. The Shinsengumi has work to do, especially now that they're leaving Edo. They have to strengthen the organization, and they don't even have a base from which to do it. Hijikata can't be wasting his already limited sleeping hours on this. He walks to the bathroom and washes his face, hoping that at least getting the sweat off will make him feel normal.
When he gets back to the sleeping quarters, instead of stopping at his own door, he stops in front of Kondo's. Snoring fills the hallway as he opens the door. Hijikata smiles, just a little. It's strange how a sound so annoying can be comforting.
He doesn't know how long he stands there, but eventually the snoring stops. Kondo sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Toshi?” he asks, voice heavy with sleep. “Why are you standing there?”
“I'm not,” Hijikata says, turning to leave. “You're dreaming.”
“Did you have another nightmare?”
Hijikata freezes mid-step. He slowly puts his foot back down, turning to face Kondo again. “Who told you about those?”
“I got a message from someone small and hard-boiled.” Hijikata scowls. He should have known. “They took good care of you while I was gone, didn't they?”
His face softens. “They did.”
There is a minute of heavy silence before Kondo asks, “Well, are you gonna stand in the hallway all night, or are you gonna come in?” He flips his blanket up, patting the futon in invitation.
Hijikata flushes. “I'm not a child.”
“I know.”
Hijikata wants to argue more, but his temper has never amounted to anything in the face of Kondo's endless patience. With a quiet sigh, he steps inside, pulling the door closed behind him. He sits awkwardly next to Kondo, who immediately grabs him. His head hits the pillow with a thump, and Hijikata blinks up at the ceiling as Kondo pulls the blanket over them.
“I'm okay, Toshi,” he says. “I'm here.”
Hijikata squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fist. He doesn't think about Kondo, covered in blood on Kokujou Island, not breathing. He doesn't think about Kondo's severed head displayed on a table. He doesn't think about any of that. He doesn't.
There is movement beside him, and suddenly Kondo is kneeling over him. “I'm right here, Toshi,” he says, and even in the darkness, Hijikata can see his eyes shining. Hijikata reaches up, putting a hand on the back of Kondo's neck so he can pull Kondo's face down toward his own.
This is not the first time they've kissed, but it happens so rarely that Hijikata always forgets how it feels. The softness of his tongue is at odds with his slightly chapped lips and scratchy beard, but Hijikata likes the contrast. He likes the feeling of his tongue against Kondo's and the heat of their mouths.
Kondo pulls back, but his gaze is tender. “I'm not going anywhere. I'll say it as many times as you need me to.”
“Kiss me again,” Hijikata says, so he does.
They end up with Hijikata's hand in Kondo's hair and Kondo's chest against Hijikata's. He's heavy, but his weight is reassuring. They kiss again and again and again until Hijikata pauses, his lips tingling. He presses their foreheads together, keeping his eyes closed, listening to their breaths sync.
When he lets go, Kondo turns, thudding heavily onto his side. He props his head up on his hand and looks at Hijikata. “Are you okay, Toshi?”
“I'm fine,” he says immediately and without looking at him.
“Are you, really?”
Hijikata sighs before rolling over to look Kondo in the eye. “No, I'm not. But I will be.” He lays his hand on Kondo's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “Kondo-san, say it again.”
“I'm here, Toshi.”
“You're here.”
They stay like that, with Kondo's face in Hijikata's hair and his warmth lulling him to sleep. Hijikata dreams of Kondo insisting that the new Shinsengumi uniform should be no clothes at all, causing every officer to try desperately to convince him to make any other change to the uniform policy to preserve what's left of their reputation. He smiles in his sleep.
It's good to be home.