Title: Rewind
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Hijikata/all (this is where you play guess how many pairings and what pairings)
Summary: Hijikata and the Shinsengumi. Twelve months. Four seasons.
Warnings: Non-con, het and slash sex, twistedness.
Notes: Yuletide fic split into 2 parts due to the word count. All credits go to my beta Sara.



I. Mutsuki: Affection

The last month of the year was usually when the Shinsengumi took in its new recruits - the recruits were officially enlisted in the new year amidst the festivities and celebrations, a first step towards anchoring their loyalty to the Shinsengumi, which was to be their only true home until their death or discharge. Kondou believed in outward displays of solidarity and comradeship - during the first tentative month the newcomers were treated no differently from anyone else, although they would be gradually introduced to the more menial tasks and made to work their way up the ranks of the Shinsengumi after the first month. Hijikata did not know if this slackening of formal rules had its desired effect, but he did know that new recruits tended to acquire a number of unseemly habits during that period of infancy, and delayed discipline often seemed too late in retrospect. Much to his chagrin, however, the tradition sunk its roots into the Shinsengumi, and probably will continue for many more years to come.

He joined in most of the celebrations, mostly because Kondou insisted, but there were times when he persisted upon being left alone, and these periods were almost as much a tradition in the Shinsengumi as the first month for the recruits was. The first rising of the sun was his to have alone, as was the hatsumoude if he chose to make the visit. The few hours of privacy were sacrosanct, a part of his life that belonged as much to the Shinsengumi as the rest of him - more a gift out of respect than a concession, but to be treasured even more for that.

The fresh, sharp smell of pine and bamboo permeated the barracks, mingling with the cloying sweet fragrance of the plum blossoms in full bloom and somewhat clearing the air of the heady scent. They were the only splash of colour in the barracks at this time of the year, where different shades of white and off-white snow and plum blossoms dominated the landscape. Hijikata leaned against the railings and carelessly stretched himself out across the wooden floor of the corridor; hatsunohide was fast approaching - already the first rays of sunshine were threatening to the pierce the horizon

The soft crunch of fresh snow under careful footsteps drew him from his reveries - Kondou-san?
Hijikata eyed the intruder critically - soft wheat-coloured hair, pale eyes, an arrogant, bitter twist to the lips - a new recruit, most probably a particularly recalcitrant one. The recruit bowed his head almost mockingly, or so Hijikata felt, muttering a soft "Vice-Commander" under his breath without the honorific the newcomers were apt to use.

"This area is off-limits," Hijikata said dryly. The recruit bowed his head again in acknowledgement; their eyes met briefly when the recruit lifted his head before Hijikata turned his head away in callous dismissal, not even bothering to listen to the reply he was given. It was already dawn. Hijikata stood up; perhaps he should make the first trip to the shrine today after all.

The fallen blossoms lay crushed behind his footsteps - dead, decaying, and forgotten.

***

"The Vice-Commander wants to be left alone during hatsunohide," Shimada, one of the older members of the fourth garrison, said surreptitiously later at breakfast, but not softly enough for the words to escape Hijikata's ears. "Don't take offence if he was sharp with you, Itou-san."

"Hijikata-san's anti-social," Okita's voice rang out clearly across the dining hall. Yamazaki stole a glance at Hijikata and started tugging frantically at Okita's sleeve, to no avail. "He's going to end up dead in a gutter one day and no one would even notice."

"Toshi's being shy," Kondou's voice boomed out, "He needs some time to catch up with things, what with you new guys and the new year and all."

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said acidly, "You've had too much to drink yesterday night, maybe you should go take a short rest."

Kondou went on happily, heedless of the sudden heavy atmosphere of dread that had beset the dining hall, "There was this time during his birthday when Toshi actually freaked out over...mmph!" The red bean filling from the mochi Hijikata roughly shoved into his mouth spilled out over the edges of lips and stuck to his stubble.

"Don't talk while you're eating, Kondou-san," Hijikata said, pointedly ignoring the Shinsengumi members' disappointed looks and Okita's amused "Hijikata-san, are you actually afraid of what Kondou-san was going to tell us?"

"Toshi!" Kondou wailed, finally working his way through the mochi. The sticky red bean in his stubble rubbed against Hijikata's skin as Kondou buried his face in Hijikata's neck and lamented his sorrows of having a friend who was entirely too popular with women. Okita turned away, muttering something about a heartless mayonnaise-crazed bastard under his breath.

Down the other end of the table the new recruit curved his lips upwards. Hijikata paused in the middle of lighting his cigarette; the deliberate defiance of the man and the skilfulness with which he obeyed the formal rules while breaking every single tradition struck a discordant chord within the ranks of the Shinsengumi.

It disrupted the peace Hijikata had found within himself.

II. Kisaragi: Change

Itou rose within the ranks of the Shinsengumi with such swiftness that even Matsudaira did not fail to notice him. His success laid in his skill with words more than his exceptional prowess with the sword - there he had his betters in Kondou and Okita, but neither had his easy confidence or charm in the social arena. Hijikata distrusted the suave words as much as he disliked the self-assured smile and effortless grace; Itou was radiant in his success with his superiors - his advice was sought constantly, and in Hijikata's opinion, all too readily given.

It was too fast, too easy, he wanted to say, but Kondou laid a hand upon his shoulder, and his reply, when it came, rang out with unspoken pride and silent assurance.

"But he is one of us."

But you are separating him from us, Hijikata thought, but the words died on his lips when he saw the unconditional trust in his Commander's eyes.

***

Hijikata put down the sheaf of papers in his hands and rubbed his forehead wearily. He dabbed the tip of his brush on the damp ink slab and wrote a few lines across the clean sheet before him; the words looked awkward, unrefined - his brush remained poised above the paper as he read it through a few more times before crumpling up the piece of paper and sweeping it off his desk.

There was a soft knock before the shoji screen was slid to the side. Indignant ire flared within Hijikata despite himself - only Kondou, Sougo, and the other captains had that privilege. Itou bowed his head briefly as he entered. The soft clink of his sword against the wooden floor rattled Hijikata; Itou did not feign respect in adopting a kneeling position - he folded his legs in an easy sitting position and raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Reject the offer from the feudal lords," Hijikata said tersely. To him words were wasted on this man, Hijikata believed in the beauty of parsimony; he indulged himself in haiku and despised verbose prose. His disdain included Itou's love for ostentatious speeches - words, words, and nothing but words, yet people succumbed so easily.

Itou closed his eyes briefly in seeming contemplation. "If I don't?"

"It is an order." The unspoken threat lay heavily between them.

Itou chuckled softly. His mouth curved cynically; his eyes, fluttering open, spotted the crumpled ball of paper on the floor. Hijikata did not move when he got up to pick it up. The letter fluttered to the floor again soon after, the strong, flowing script spreading across the floor - words denouncing acts of impropriety on Itou's part - where Itou had discarded it.

"You see, Vice Commander," Itou said smoothly, "every man has his weakness," he strode across to where Hijikata sat, his feet deliberately stepping on the letter and tearing it, "and I happen to know yours." He stopped before Hijikata and dropped to his knees, his manner a sharp contrast to his arrogance of minutes ago - his hands, when they cupped Hijikata's face, were reverent and gentle. Leaning across, he whispered a few words in Hijikata's ear, his fingers brushing against the nape of Hijikata's neck and travelling down to rest on his shoulders.

Hijikata stared at the space in front of him blankly; his fists curled into themselves, cutting into his skin in his effort to stop himself from reaching out for his sword. Thoughts of Kondou whirled dizzily in his mind - Kondou was the pillar of the Shinsengumi, he was the man they all raised their swords for, the perfect paragon of loyalty and selflessness. Hijikata could perceive no weakness of character in him; he would not allow anyone to shatter Kondou's faith in the Shinsengumi, the element that bound them all together.

"I'll cut you a deal, Vice Commander," Itou said softly, "I will reject the feudal lords' offer, pleading inexperience and ignorance, and mount your precious Commander on a silver pedestal.

In return..." His fingers tightened around Hijikata's shoulders in a grip strong enough to bruise. "I ask only that you don't resist me."

The bile rose in his throat when Itou pressed his lips against his brow, trailed them down his cheek, and lightly brushed them against the edges of his lips. The notion was ludicrous to the extreme; nanshoku was not as common as it was - sexual intercourse between men belonged to the era of the samurai - but even if it were as prevalent as before, he could not imagine himself playing the role of the catamite. He looked nothing like the feminine boys he saw in the theatres, with their rouged lips, powdered cheeks and coquettish smiles; if nothing else, he was far too old to be considered a likely candidate.

Emboldened by his reticence, Itou pulled at Hijikata's obi with his left hand, his right digging into the cloth of Hijikata's kimono and pushing it over his shoulders. The garment pooled around Hijikata's waist and rustled to the ground when Itou pushed him back down against the desk.

"I don't suppose you're going to say yes," Itou said, his lips twisting into a feral smile. "But I suppose that's what women find so appealing about you, Vice Commander." His hands tightened around Hijikata's arms, hard enough to bruise, and his teeth grazed against the skin on Hijikata's neck before sinking themselves deep into the sensitive flesh. Hijikata almost tasted himself when Itou pressed their lips together in an absurdly chaste kiss.

Hijikata almost laughed; he was foolish to think that Itou was looking for sexual gratification - it was nothing but an exertion of dominance and possession, some twisted form of venting of frustration and vengeance. Itou's teeth left a thin trail of blood in their wake; the objective was to mark and scar, to humiliate and degrade, and when Itou roughly pushed his legs up and apart, Hijikata was made even more aware of the stark contrast between them. Itou remained fully clothed - the stiff material of his jacket chafed against Hijikata's abused skin with every move, while Hijikata himself lay naked against his own desk with papers tinged with red scattered around him.

He was unprepared for the intrusion when it came. His left hand blindly swept over the wet ink slab to find the discarded ink brush, fingers gripping onto the wood and breaking it. The splinters cut into his palms; the pain from the wound became his focus - it was as if the world had dwindled to a bundle of sensations, from the feeling of being split open by the blunt, thick erection that pressed into him, the wetness trickling down his legs, and the sharp, stinging pain of the splinters digging into his palm. He sought relief from the last in an attempt to quell his own overwhelming desire to throw off the man on him and tighten his hands around the man's neck, preferably with enough force to snap it in two.

Hijikata willed himself to relax around the member in him, but his body, trained in every respect to obey his mind in battle, failed him in this instance. His muscles clenched with every stroke, his body reacting instinctively against this new unfamiliar pain in an almost masochistic way; Itou must have felt pain as well - the abrasion suffered from his forced entry couldn't have been mild - but if he had, he betrayed no sign of it as he resolutely ploughed Hijikata's stiff, hard body. It was an act without pleasure for both of them, even though Itou's breathing eventually sped up with his strokes until he finally released himself within Hijikata.

Itou remained in Hijikata for a while before abruptly pulling out his softening member, the movement causing almost as much pain to Hijikata's body as Itou's entry did. Itou calmly picked up Hijikata's obi and wiped the blood and semen off his penis as he stood up, smoothly zipping up his pants and straightening his uniform back to its original impeccable state after he had done so.

"You should see yourself now, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, his voice still gruff from his recent release, as he flung the soiled obi down onto Hijikata. "You look absolutely pathetic."

Hijikata looked up at the man towering over him. His grin must have looked half-crazed, but that was exactly what he felt like right then.

"Your self-perception is amazing." Itou's lips pulled back in a snarl at Hijikata's words; he raised his hand over Hijikata, and Hijikata briefly wondered if he should move to defend himself - he did not think their agreement extended beyond sexual intercourse - but Itou let his arm fall and stomped out of the room, sliding the shoji door close with such force it was a wonder the thin frame did not break.

Hijikata lay there alone for a while after that. The cold air of the early spring morning filtered through the cracks in between the wooden boards. Hijikata shifted; he carelessly pulled his kimono over himself and went over to the doors leading out into the courtyard. The winds that swept into the room as he slid open the doors were freezing, but Hijikata stood at the entrance to his room, wrapped only in his kimono, secure in the knowledge that no one would intrude upon him at this hour, not even Sougo, who would sacrifice almost every hour of sleep but these stillest moments before daybreak in devising ways to get at him.

The sharp scent of fresh bamboo melded with the nauseating blend of metallic blood and pungent sex; the result was a twisted affair of primal desire and animalistic lust that left Hijikata strangely untouched. It was as if the repulsion of the act did not extend beyond the act itself, although his body rebelled against his mind and screamed exhaustion and pain.

A stray blossom, blown into the room by an errant gust of wind, came to rest by his feet. Almost absent-mindedly, Hijikata bent down and picked it up with his left hand. The blood and ink soaked through the delicately pink-tinted petals of the white blossom, in his eyes, the flower shrivelled and lost its beauty.

His fingers pressed into his palm unconsciously, crushing the frail petals and robbing them of their brief existence.

***

III. Yayoi: New life

Matsudaira gave the reports before him a cursory glance and leaned back in his swivelling chair. Taking a long drag from his cigar, he asked, "So, you think Itou's a good choice to command the division in Kyoto?"

"Yes."

"He's relatively inexperienced," Matsudaira said thoughtfully, "Not that I have anything against young people - my daughter Kuriko-chan, for instance..."

Hijikata swiftly staved off further paternal reminiscences. "He knows the workings of the political intrigues of higher society, sir."

Matsudaira snorted. "I dislike the insinuations there, Toshi." He puffed out a mouthful of cigar smoke. "But I see your point." With a swift motion, he signed and sealed the document before him.

"Now, back to Kuriko-chan..."

***

"Is this your doing, Hijikata-kun?" Itou flung the offer down onto Hijikata's desk.

Hijikata raised an eyebrow. "And if it is?" He signed off another report, adding a small note to Yamazaki to improve his literary skills at the bottom. "I would accept the offer, if I were you. I don't think the feudal lords look lightly upon insults, even those that exist only in their minds."

"Thank you for the advice, Vice Commander." Itou stalked up to him and leaned down. His teeth nipped at Hijikata's neck, though not deeply enough to draw blood. Hijikata stiffened but did not otherwise respond; their informal agreement still stood, even though Itou had not acted upon it ever since that first night.

"If I were gentle, would you be pretending that I was someone else?" Itou asked maliciously. He pulled off Hijikata's cravat and his own, roughly tossing them onto the floor. "Would you actually experience arousal?" The wet tongue against the curve of Hijikata's ear made him squirm slightly.

"I've heard that it's possible for a man to feel pleasure from having another inside his body," Itou hissed softly, "Who would you like it to be?"

Hijikata bared his teeth even though he wasn't sure Itou would be able to see it from behind him. "Not everyone shares your sick perversities, Itou."

Itou chucked softly into his neck. "We'll see about that, shall we?" He rubbed Hijikata's member gently through the fabric of his trousers. "I'll try my best to be nice, as did you," he added venomously, continuing his ministrations until Hijikata hardened under his touch.

"Take it as an expression of gratitude for your concern over my career advancement, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, divesting Hijikata of his clothing and pushing him down onto the floor. A finger rubbed against his anus in circles, gently massaging the skin there, waiting for Hijikata's body to relax before pressing in. The dry intrusion stung, and Itou must have noticed his discomfort, because he withdrew the finger and forced it into Hijikata's mouth instead, thoroughly wetting it before pushing it into his anus again.

Nausea welled within him, and he bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from gagging. The process was repeated with a second finger - Hijikata stared up beyond Itou at the dust motes on the ceiling and tried to ignore the feeling of the fingers scissoring in him. There were brief flashes of pleasure when Itou managed to brush his prostate, evanescent sparks of arousal that quickly faded at the stronger discomfort of intrusion. He jerked slightly when Itou rubbed a thumb over the head of his cock, gently pressing into the slit as the fingers in him pressed even deeper. The stimulation to his cock worked - when Itou stopped stroking him, the discomfort from being stretched was no longer as pronounced, replaced instead by building pleasure that was transmitted to his erection.

Itou withdrew his fingers and entered him in one stroke. His muscles clenched slightly in response; Itou stilled within him, waiting until Hijikata's body relaxed before he began to thrust slowly and shallowly, gradually picking up pace and depth until he was hitting Hijikata's prostate with every thrust.

"Who am I now?" he whispered against Hijikata's ear, his hand reaching out to stroke Hijikata to completion. Hijikata gritted his teeth and tried to imagine Itou's hand as being his own, this as nothing more than an act of masturbation, but the illusion failed to materialise, not with the hard cock slamming repeatedly into him and the feeling of the heavy weight of another man on him. Repulsion surged within him as his body finally succumbed to the pleasure. He hated his mind for this betrayal, for imposing upon him this self-loathing and disgust of a normal reaction to physical stimulation. There was no stigma attached to responding, but he recoiled anyway, snaking tendrils of hatred curling in him and making him stiffen unconsciously.

Itou lifted his hand, his eyes gleaming with sadistic triumph as he studied the milky-white substance coating his fingers. The pace of his strokes turned erratic in his excitement; his breath, hot and heavy, lifted the hairs at the nape of Hijikata's neck where he pressed his mouth against, nipping and sucking heavily at the skin there.

"Toshi," he whispered, his voice gruff and deep from lust as he climaxed.

Time came to an abrupt standstill for Hijikata at the use of the old pet-name. Just like an artist's carefully crafted work of spun glass, his exterior shattered under the mocking familiarity to reveal the raw, bubbling rage underneath. Only the sound of Itou coughing brokenly jerked him back to his senses - one of his fists were still balled up tightly, while the other was clenched firmly around Itou's throat. He loosened his grip, and Itou immediately sat back up, gasping eagerly for air, breath coming in short, jerking wheezes.

"Don't you dare," Hijikata growled, "Don't you dare defile him that way."

Itou wiped the blood off the side of his mouth where Hijikata's fist had connected with flesh. His smile was a twisted affair with his swelling cheek and teeth smeared with blood. "Do try not to be so quick with the accusations, Hijikata-kun." Hijikata's breath caught in his throat as the rabid haze of anger dissipated and realisation dawned upon him.

"What exactly did I do?" Itou asked hoarsely, "Who was I insulting?" He wound his arms around Hijikata's stiff body. "It's all in your own mind, Hijikata-kun."

Hijikata tried to steady his breathing; his own heartbeat sounded thunderous in his ears, and the pace of his pulse was surely noticeable with the physical contact they had.

"You must hate me, Itou," Hijikata said. In a reckless fit of abandon he forewent all attempts of pretence. "I've been standing in your way, right at the very place you think you deserve ever since you've arrived." He had never felt freer than he was now. The confession liberated him, the words taking on a power that they normally didn't have because of the conviction he had in them. "Give up, Itou. As long as he lives, this place will always be mine."

Itou's laughter rang out softly, harsh and broken from the damage done to his throat. "Hijikata-kun, you really surprise me at times." He curled his fingers into Hijikata's hair and gently pushed back the stray strands that matted Hijikata's forehead. "But you're wrong on one extremely crucial point.

It's not about you, Hijikata-kun." He cupped Hijikata's chin and lifted his face gently.

"If only he were you," he muttered, brushing their lips lightly together.

***

IV. Uzuki: U-no-hana

"Things have been pretty quiet without Sensei," Kondou said reflectively.

Hijikata paused in the middle of adding a fourth swirl to his mayonnaise topping. "Don't feel it," he said gruffly, adding a few more swirls than intended in annoyance. The mayonnaise tower wobbled dangerously and threatened to spill out of the rice bowl until Hijikata grabbed the bowl and started shovelling the concoction into his mouth.

"Honestly, Toshi, why do you dislike him so much?" Kondou asked, "His ideas might be a little radical, but you can't deny that we need new blood in the Shinsengumi." He slung an arm over Hijikata's shoulders. "Sensei's great when it comes to politics."

Of course he is, Hijikata thought venomously, it's what he spends all his time doing. Aloud he said, "He's not your Sensei, Kondou-san."

"Toshi, a man learns from everyone he meets."

Hijikata swallowed the last lump of mayonnaise-coated rice and stood up, shrugging off Kondou's arm carelessly as he did so. "It's time for my rounds."

Kondou-san, you don't call every man you know your teacher.

***

"Toshi!" Kondo wailed piteously, "Why does she not look my way even once?"

"I think it's much better that way, Kondou-san," Hijikata said dryly, "You might not survive the attention." From his point of view, Otae had been noticing Kondou far too much, judging from the severity of the wounds sustained.

"If only she can see my love for her!" Kondou gulped down another glass of beer. "Can't she see that my love for her has already reached the extent where I cannot rest in peace if she leaves my eyes for one second?" His head flopped onto Hijikata's shoulder as he fumbled for another glass of beer, which Hijikata absently-mindedly moved out of his reach.

"Kondou-san, most normal individuals won't find stalking an appropriate display of affection."

Kondou, already lost in his own world, rambled on unheedingly. "Toshi, you need to help me." He rubbed his face against Hijikata's neck, the stubble on his chin scratching the skin there irritably. "You know how to deal with women. Please help me get Otae-san to realise my feelings for her."

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said exasperatedly, but paused at the sound of gentle snoring coming from his shoulder. He sighed in resignation and stood up, carefully pulling Kondou to his feet.

"Thank you!" cried the proprietor of the small bar as the door tinkled shut behind them.

***

Getting Kondou out of his uniform was no mean task - the man was like an octopus that clung to anything that he managed to latch upon - but Hijikata finally got him into his casual yukata through sheer force of will.

"Otae-san," Kondou muttered as Hijikata roughly flung a blanket over him. "Otae-san..." His face scrunched up in agitation - Hijikata wondered if the Otae in Kondou's dreams was being particularly violent right now.

Hijikata peeled the fingers clutching onto his kimono off impatiently. "I'll try talking to her, but I'm not going to be a replacement punch bag, so you can give up any illusions of me holding a conversation lasting more than ten minutes."

Kondou shifted in his sleep restlessly. "Toshi..."

"I said I'll try talking to her, not that you're capable of hearing anything at the moment," Hijikata moved to get up, but Kondou's hand snapped out to catch his in a death grip.

"Oi, Kondou-san, there's only so much leeway you can give to a drunk," Hijikata said. His hand twitched uncomfortably in Kondou's heated grasp.

"Toshi."

Hijikata turned back to look at his Commander. Kondou seemed to have settled down, dark features composed in a slight smile, his chest heaving steadily with each slow breath. Hijikata laid his hand across Kondou's forehead. Kondou's skin was still warm from the alcohol he had consumed, and Kondou's eyebrows furrowed slightly at the touch of Hijikata's cooler hand before relaxing again. The warmth radiating from Kondou's palm moistened the dry skin of their hands and softened the familiar calluses that rubbed against his own. He knew that touch and how every callus was acquired, knew every single stroke of the tennen rishin-ryuu style that Kondou patiently taught him although he could not hope to attain the same level of achievement in the art. Through Kondou, he saw the past, present, and future; his life went back to the day he met Kondou in the dojo in Bushuu - he had memories that went back before that, but they were blurry and unfocused, paling in significance to man that lay before him.

Who am I now?

Not him.

***

"Why, Hijikata-san, it's rare seeing you here without the Gorilla. Is he coming in later?" Otae's voice was dripping honey, never a good sign, as far as Hijikata knew.

"No," Hijikata said. Shimura Tae blinked a couple of times in surprise before she regained her composure. Her smile lost some of its fake sweetness, replaced instead by open curiosity and interest.

"Hijikata-san," Oto called, walking over to where they stood, "Isn't your Commander coming today?" She shot Otae a smug smile that unfortunately lost most of its effect, Otae being secure in the knowledge of a stalker-free night.

Hijikata almost failed to prevent a sigh from escaping. He knew Kondou was inapt when it came to women, but the task of clearing his Commander's image, much less enhancing it, seemed an almost insurmountable one.

"No."

Oto's surprise equalled Otae's, but her competitive instincts immediately took over. "Why, Hijikata-san, I'm happy to be your companion for the night."

"I thank you for the offer, but I would like to ask for Otae-san." Otae returned Oto's murderous look with an amused smile. Oto flushed angrily and cast one last accusatory look at Hijikata before flouncing off, stomping on an unfortunate customer's toe on the way.

"Hijikata-san, what has the Gorilla been up to now?" Otae asked.

"Nothing." At Otae's quizzical look, he added, "Nothing out of ordinary."

"Hijikata-san," Otae's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "With Gori, the ordinary is the abnormal."

"He's just incapable of expressing his feelings," Hijikata said, trying to stay faithful to his promise even though the conversation seemed to be going rapidly downhill.

A dangerous glint flashed across Otae's eyes. "Which is why you're here to do it for him."

Hijikata paused for a moment. "No," he said, "I'm only here to help you understand him." He drank another mouthful of wine from the glass before him. "Kondou-san thinks only in black and white - it doesn't mean that he's incapable of seeing anything else, he simply refuses to." The wine shimmered through the thin glass, a dull, murky red under the dim lightings of the club. "He sees you as the ideal woman, someone who would eventually be taken in by his sincerity."

"It's not you, Otae-san," he added hastily when he saw the steel in Otae's eyes. "It's Kondou-san. He doesn't see your rejection as the result of anything else beyond the possibility of him not trying hard enough."

"Hijikata-san, that was about the longest speech I've ever heard you make," Otae said. "Tell me, what do the Shinsengumi actually see in the Gorilla?" she asked as she refilled Hijikata's glass, the soft-pink sleeves of her kimono falling over her pale hands with her slow, graceful movements. Perhaps Kondou was more discerning than he seemed - Otae was beautiful, violent tendencies and stubbornness aside.

"He's our Commander."

Otae raised an eyebrow. "I was expecting a more eloquent answer from you."

"There won't ever be anyone else."

Otae sighed. "I'm sure there won't be." She shifted a little in her seat next to him on the couch, the extended inaction making her restless. "Are you actually saying that I should encourage him to get him to stop stalking me?"

Hijikata's fingers tightened around his wine-glass. "I don't know. Perhaps. He hasn't been this persistent before." It was true. Kondou did experience the occasional crush, but it never lasted beyond the short depression after rejection. "I'm sorry."

Blood-red wine sloshed into his glass as she refilled his glass once more. Her fingers curved gently around his, feeling somewhat different from the fingers of other women he had touched before - soft skin and rough calluses from constant practice with the wooden sword. "Whatever for? For failing to look after your human-sized pet properly?"

He subtly drew his hand away from hers. "I would like to get a Don Peri."

The apology was actually a selfish one, but he could not tell her that, for he did not know the reason for it himself, other than it being something he needed to say.

***

V. Satsuki: Speed

There was a quiet area in Kabuki-chou that catered specifically to patrons who desired anonymity and were willing to pay for it - an area far removed from the rowdiness and cheap gaudiness of Otae's quarter. It wasn't to Matsudaira's tastes, but the daimyo did patronise the area once in a while, and it was during one of his experimental forays that he had brought Hijikata along and introduced him to one of the oiran who worked under Matsudaira's tayuu.

***

His partner blushed when he leaned in to kiss her. She gripped onto his sleeves, her body melting under his touch, mouth opening eagerly under his when he probed her lips demandingly with his tongue. Her chest heaved with excitement, her lips remained slightly parted after he ended the kiss, swollen and red, like the glittering rubies she wore on her ears. Desire made her glow under her carefully applied make-up, transforming her from being merely conventional beautiful into a work of seduction, a fresh bud that blossomed into full bloom. Beads of sweat glistened on her skin, the result of lust and the heat of the midsummer night; the silken strands of her long, dark tresses were moist under his fingers - the heavy strands spread out like a dark coverlet around her where she lay on the cotton sheets, emphasising the soft, delicate paleness of her skin, gleaming through the folds of her rumpled kimono.

Her breathing quickened as he slowly undressed her, unwrapping the layers of silk as if he were opening a rare gift. He rubbed gently at a pink nipple, watching it hardened and darken under his fingers. A soft cry escaped her lips when he bent down to suck at the nipple. The cry turned into a strangled gasp when he tugged at the sensitive part of flesh with his teeth, and her fumbling hands, desperately reaching out for some anchor, found the front folds of his yukata and pulled the light garment down and off his shoulders.

She made a wonderful partner, being a woman who was already so experienced that she had perfected the ideal of a lover - she knew when to hide her knowledge, when to conceal her pleasure, when to respond with wanton abandon, and how to infect her partner with her desire. With him, she found the perfect match, something she reluctantly admitted after one of their sessions - neither of them cared much for the other beyond the gratification they could each provide, and with him, she could give up her normal role of providing for a man's pleasure and selfishly take instead for her own physical fulfilment.

His fingers, delving into her, came away slickened with evidence of her arousal and readiness. Her body hungrily opened up under him; soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips, and she eagerly urged him on, arching up to draw him in deeper in a need to complete the coupling. The actual intercourse was dictated more by her needs than his - he sought only the ultimate release - all he did was go along with her flow, following the small indications of her wants until she tightened under him briefly and relaxed into blissful state of physical satisfaction.

There had been many others before her, failed experiments that he discarded after one quick tryst. In her, he failed to find everything he desired from a woman - gentleness, comfort, warmth, innocence. Physically she was also the exact opposite of his fantasies - dark, lush, a woman in full bloom rather than a girl just blossoming into womanhood. That was why he allowed himself to remain with one woman to fulfil his physical needs rather than continue flitting from one to another. He doubted he could find a better replacement, and the process of acclimatising himself to a new sex partner was always bothersome and a needless waste of precious energy.

"I'll be having the day off Saturday next week," she said, skilfully redoing her hair and touching up her make up before the mirror. He did not deem to reply as she was not expecting any answer. She did not take payment from him, at least, not in money. He paid her in a much cruder form - by providing her with the sexual gratification she failed to obtain from other men.

"Good bye, samurai-san," she said, kissing him mockingly at the side of the lips.

***

"Toshi, where have you been?" Kondou cried when he entered the barracks. "Otae-san actually gave me one of her bento boxes today! Does this mean she's finally softening?" He gripped Hijikata's shoulders enthusiastically. "What did you say to her? It worked!"

"I didn't say anything." Hijikata flinched a little. His body seemed much more finely aware of physical touch after sex, and the warmth of Kondou's fingers pressing into the skin at the juncture between his neck and shoulders tingled uncomfortably.

"You must have!" Kondou exclaimed, but his exhilaration quickly faded to puzzlement. "Toshi?"

Hijikata jerked back when Kondou rubbed a thumb across his lips. "Kondou-sa..."

"Toshi, you never told me." Kondou lifted his thumb to show the trace of red rouge across the rough skin.

***

Part 2/2