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.




VI. Minazuki: Water

"Who is she?" Kondou asked.

"Someone," Hijikata replied offhandedly. In truth, he did not know who she was anymore than Kondou did.

"Toshi!" Kondou sounded hurt. "You could at least tell me!"

"There isn't anything to tell, Kondou-san," Hijikata said wearily. "She's an oiran."

Kondou stared at him in disbelief. "But...Toshi, you don't have to." A wave of unreasonable anger washed over Hijikata at the words.

"Who said so?" He shook off the remaining hand on his shoulder. "Everyone does it, Kondou-san. Don't you have urges beyond those few times with Ossan?" He felt a slight twinge of guilt when he saw the hurt in Kondou's eyes and bit back the rest of his charade, but the irrational jealousy still burned. The underlying accusation was unjustified - Kondou had not bedded any woman ever since he met Otae, not to Hijikata's knowledge, and Hijikata envied him for his faith and conviction in a future with Otae. It was what he did not, could never, have.

Kondou grabbed his hand, and the understanding in his eyes stopped Hijikata from pushing him away.

"You're only hurting yourself, Toshi."

***

"How much is she?"

"Kondou-san." Even Kondou could not fail to hear the warning in Hijikata's voice, but apparently Kondou was going to persist on the topic until he had enough knowledge to satisfy him.

"I know how much they cost, and if you're seeing her...them....regularly, your pay will never be enough. At least let me..."

"I pay her by other means. She has other needs besides money." Hijikata hesitated over answering the hidden question. "And I see only one."

The silence after hung between them uneasily. Finally, Kondou chose to break it by saying awkwardly, "I thought you would have a few."

"Would it have made a difference?" Hijikata asked.

Kondou paused, the worry in his eyes growing, and pulled Hijikata towards him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly in comfort.

***

VII. Fumizuki: Book

"Vice Commander, here are the reports for today." Hijikata waved Yamazaki to the side.

"Where's Kondou-san? At the Shimura dojo?" Yamazaki shook his head and settled into a comfortable kneeling position opposite Hijikata. "The Commander's in his room."

Hijikata's brush paused a moment before resuming its path across the page. "Oh? Isn't it closing time for Otae-san now?" He gave the ink a few seconds to dry before rolling up the scroll and placing it in the bundle next to him. The cicadas hummed in a soft cacophony outside in the yard - it was their most active hour of the night, and the few days of early autumn were their last few days of activity before the cold set in.

"The Commander hasn't been sta...seeing Otae-san after work lately." Yamazaki flipped through his notebook. "He still sees her in the day at the dojo when he goes out on rounds. When he's not on rounds he'll make a short visit before she heads off to work. The neighbourhood says they don't see him around as often, especially at night. The reasons for his absence are as of yet unknown, but it is certainly not due to any lack of passion on his part, for he still declares..."

"Yamazaki, if you continue with that horrible essay of yours you'll be committing a seppuku offence." Hijikata lit a cigarette and walked past Yamazaki out into the yard, not bothering to shut the folding doors behind him.

Yamazaki sat there in silence for a while as he mulled over his report.

"Wait...what offence is that?"

***

"Toshi!" Kondou stopped him at the entrance of the barracks.

"Kondou-san," Hijikata said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and stomping it out irritably. "I really don't see the point of this."

"I might not be much use as a Commander, but I am here to prevent you from going off the wrong track."

"Kondou-san, having sex is hardly what you would call 'going off the wrong track'." Hijikata tried to shrug off Kondou's hand, but his Commander tightened his grip around his arm.

"I don't mean that."

"Then I don't know what you mean." Hijikata stood still stolidly until Kondou loosened his hold. Knowing Kondou, the man was bound to try to explain in his painfully honest way his intentions, but Hijikata was not in the mood to reopen old wounds and dwell upon stale regrets. Kondou was always one to reflect upon past wrongs and memories; Hijikata survived them, learned from them, and discarded them as he would a cigarette stub.

"Good bye, Kondou-san."

***

"You're not in the mood today," she whispered softly into his ear. Hijikata drew her into his arms and pressed his face into her hair. Her delicate fragrance filled his senses, temporarily clouding his already tumultuous thoughts. Her wild difference from those familiar and dear to him was precious, and he treasured her like he did no other woman he had bedded before.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said graciously, as she could always afford to be generous, "but you'll have to leave soon; I have an important client coming."

She sighed in exasperation when she pulled away to look up at him. "I don't know what I see in you - you're about as unprofessional as they come."

***

"Brother, would you like to share a smoke?" Hijikata looked to his right to see a youth dressed in tattered jeans and a loose T-shirt sitting next to him. A long silver chain dangled from the youth's left ear. Hijikata shifted to get up from the bench, but the teenager caught his hand, the long, cool chain on his ear brushing against Hijikata's shoulder bone as he leaned forward.

"Come on, we lonely folk spending our time in deserted parks out in the middle of the night need whatever company we can get, yeah?"

"Get lost."

"Don't be too hasty, brother," the youth said. "You don't know what I have to offer." Hijikata's stomach roiled in disgust when the youth gave him a quick lick across his neck. "Sometimes you need a man to take what you can give." The youth's smugness turned into a surprised yelp when Hijikata grabbed him by his neck and slammed him into the back of the bench.

"I told you to back off."

The teenager stared at him brazenly. "Why not? If you haven't tried it before, why not give it a try to see if you like it or not? I like you. Well, I like your looks, but that's the same thing for us."

Hijikata let go of the youth and turned away. The young man, encouraged by the withdrawal, pressed forward and lightly kissed the side of his neck. "Most people don't know what they're missing until they've tried it."

He was hardly that curious, but resentment spurred him on. Memories of the cold spring nights drove him to press the boy - regardless of the jaded smile and hard eyes, the youth was still not yet a man - into a musty bed in some cheap hotel in the cheap quarter of Kabuki-chou. His hands seemed to drive the youth wild, twisting and gasping out his pleasure under him. The sight revolted him; he had never known that physical arousal was such an ugly creature - it looked beautiful on women, but on men, it was nothing but primitive and uncouth. Through that young face he saw himself, and he saw no beauty in it, much less felt any desire from the sight.

Choked by repulsion, he got up and left, ignoring the cry of protest from the boy he left behind.

***

VIII. Hazuki: Leaf

He did not attend her funeral, partly because he hated seeing people weep, mostly because he felt there was no place for him. It was mid-autumn, when the trees were heavily shedding the foliage and the ground was strewn with dust-red leaves that swirled around his feet with the chilly autumn gusts.

It was midnight when he returned to the barracks, cold and wet from the rain, his tongue stinging from the spiciness of the senbei he had eaten. Okita's eyes burned with anger when he saw him the next day, but Okita did not lash out beyond remaining in frosty silence throughout the day. He suspected Kondou's hand in this, although he avoided Kondou beyond the extremely brief meeting they had during the morning routine. Kondou's sympathy was not something he was ready to accept yet, regardless of the worry he was causing his Commander. In his state of numbness he was able to shield himself from the sorrow until it retreated into the deeper recesses of his emotions, and any attempt to dig out his grief only served to intensify it.

"Danna, your presence was missed."

The Yorozuya ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Really?" He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. "I'm always a bad presence at public crying events, so trust me on this - you really don't want me there. I've already personally sent my apologies to your sister, and she agrees with me."

"Danna, my sister isn't the kind that comes back to haunt the living after death."

"Oh, it depends. Some people just ask to be haunted." The casual statement brushed across the edges of his awareness and sparked unwanted feelings in its relentless accuracy. He vaguely heard Okita replying, but he was too lost in his own flood of confused emotions to hear the words. In life she made him long for her; in death she took away his longing for her just as she had stripped away every carefully concealed emotion - he now ached to desire her almost as much he used to desire her, but the heat of passion, buried under the weight of grief and remorse, was no longer tenable.

"Oi, mayonnaise addict." Hijikata looked up to see that only he and Gintoki remained by the dango stall.

Gintoki bit off another dango from his stick. "You're really quiet today. The mayonnaise finally got to your brains?"

"Shut up, diabetic idiot."

The normalcy, callous as it might seem, calmed him enough to help him miss her.

***

He no longer visited the quiet quarter of Kabuki-chou, Mitsuba's death seemingly having taken away his need for the oiran or any other woman. It was not that he practised abstinence; it was just that the need for sexual relief had faded to a level where he did not require a woman. He plunged himself into the dull routine of work with a fervour that eclipsed his growing longing for her. Kondou watched him most of the time, worry etched across his features, but Hijikata waved him off as he did the other helpful Shinsengumi members. Kondou was not his outlet for venting, however much Kondou might have wanted him to rely upon him, for his mind was incapable of contemplating Kondou as someone to share his sins with, his pursuit to perfect the Shinsengumi, and through the Shinsengumi, their Commander, being his ultimate goal in life.

During those lonely autumn nights after the initial crushing grief was overcome, he permitted himself to dwell upon her, inking meaningless haiku across scrap paper and burning them after. The longing finally returned, and he welcomed and even nurtured the bitter emotion as being his only gift to her. He felt that he could not desire any other but her in this way - his passion for Mitsuba being something that transcended the lust between man and woman into a realm where passion and emotional need were so intertwined that it was impossible to distinguish the physical and the emotional.

***

He did meet the Yorozuya once during those days. Gintoki was at another one of his odd jobs, this time acting as a temporary bodyguard of an antique shop. Amidst the musty, aged artefacts that accumulated value and charm as the seconds ticked by, he confessed his hidden thoughts to someone so alike it felt as if he was voicing his guilt to himself.

"She has granted me closure."

His other self did not reply, silence being the only understanding Hijikata required in return.

***

IX. Nagatsuki: Long month

The last days of autumn sped by, blazing their trail with red and brown in a golden rush of dying energy. His yearning for Mitsuba gradually faded into a mild, constant heartache that was buried under the flurry of activity within the Shinsengumi as they prepared for the imminent winter. Kondou finally satisfied himself that Hijikata was emotionally well and left him alone. His nights were his once more, although he no longer left the barracks except to do his rounds. The oiran sent him a message once, a cold affair that spoke of need and necessity under fake endearments and passionate entreaties, but he discarded the letter, the reason being no other than that he no longer felt the need.

Okita never forgave him, something for which he was partially grateful for. It was as if her brother was berating him on her behalf, taking on a role that she was incapable of herself. The resentment that Okita harboured seemed to fester and grow, and the rivalry between them transformed into something that teetered at the brink of peer competitiveness and malicious contention. The tricks and ploys that awaited him at every turn honed his alertness and sensitivity for danger; Okita aimed to ensure that he got no peace, and Okita achieved that with a success that was guaranteed from the very start, given his ingenuity at inventing new tactics faster than Hijikata could figure his newest whims out.

"Hijikata-san, it's my win again," Okita said calmly, pressing his wooden practice sword against Hijikata's neck. Ever since suffering defeat under Hijikata's hands, he had taken to training with a vengeance that surprised Kondou, for Okita, sure in his genius and talent, never believed in work when he could rely upon natural talent. The month of hard training, however, had taken him so far that Hijikata felt that Okita was now beyond his comprehension - before Okita's genius was capable of appreciation, now the young Captain strived to detach himself from emotion during battle and succeeded at it, thus making him somewhat inhuman. It did not change him as a person - Okita was as temperamental as he had been when he was a ten-year-old when he was his usual self, but once he drew his blade his emotions were shoved aside and his purely physical abilities took over.

The result was usually that the checked emotions overflowed when Okita snapped out of his battle mode - the blade dictated the expression of his emotions, and violence commanded the sword, even one that was raised in protection.

Hijikata pushed the heavy wood away from his neck and sat up. Okita definitely picked him for training for nothing but the sole purpose of tormenting him. There were better opponents more worthy of Okita's swordsmanship in the Shinsengumi, but Okita nevertheless still asked for a match occasionally, and it wasn't his place to refuse even if he had wanted to, which he did not, because he was certain that Okita's glee would more likely be better fuelled by refusal than actually beating the hell out of him.

"Hijikata-san," Okita's blade moved to block him when he tried to stand up.

"The duel's over."

"Don't you miss her?" Hijikata's heart skipped a beat at the question, but he quickly composed himself and roughly pushed away the blade again.

"It's none of your business, is it?" The next few moves happened so quickly that Hijikata almost failed to see the blur of the sword before finding him pressed against the floor of the dojo, his chest and stomach burning from the force of the attack.

"For what she felt for you, you could at least show something." Okita's fists twisted angrily into the folds of his kimono. "She saved herself for you even though she knew you would never take her. If it wasn't because Father made her marry, she would never have considered marriage.

You could have at least made her suffer less," he said, and the accusation echoed throughout Hijikata's mind. "I don't know what you could have done, but I do know that you had the capability and failed to do it.

At the very least, you shouldn't have walked away from her without doing something to soften the pain." Okita's cheeks were flushed with anger. "How many days had she lost over you, you bastard?" The words hit painfully close to home. Hijikata believed in the necessity of his choices, especially those involving her. He had failed to reckon with her obstinacy, however, in selfishly imposing his judgements upon her life. Remaining single was her way of screaming defiance into his face, but he had chosen to ignore it and cut her off from his life instead. Mitsuba, who had Sougo's intelligence and talent, and a maturity that Sougo still had not acquired, had assented to marrying a husband that was a failure in every sense of the word, and Hijikata felt that was her final attack against him in a long series of battles that formed the essence of their relationship.

"Don't you ever think about her?" The question seemed ludicrous coming from Sougo, of all people. Sougo, who was so alike and unlike her, who had her wheat-coloured hair and rust-red eyes, who even resembled her in the outlines of his slightly rounded face, being still trapped in the awkward transition between boy and man. Even his character resembled hers, and given time, he might come to possess her mind completely even as he loses the resemblance in looks.

Okita's features twisted and reformed - longer hair, done up in a high ponytail the way Mitsuba did her hair in Hijikata's fondest memories, higher cheekbones, smaller lips, gentler, more compassionate eyes. Hijikata pressed a hand to Okita's forehead, and in a sudden, impulsive act of compulsion, pulled him...her down towards him.

"Hijikata-san, you're forever pathetic," Okita said, pressing into the kiss, and Hijikata responded against his better judgement. This wasn't Mitsuba - she wouldn't delve into his mouth with such hunger; she would be softer, more slender and delicate. Okita was wrong on so many counts, but they were alike enough that he was able to touch her through him, feel her react to his kiss with an answering desire that fuelled his own. Mitsuba, unreachable both in life and death, was physically attainable through her brother, although she remained emotionally locked away in the deep recesses of his mind.

Hijikata kept his eyes opened; if he closed them, his vision of her vanished, as it was sustained only by shallow physical appearance. It was Mitsuba who kissed him on his brow, who pulled apart the folds of his kimono and touched him wonderingly, who returned his desire with equal passion. His mind, so entranced with his illusion of her, did not even falter when his legs were pushed apart and a hard erection was pressed into his body. The pain was no longer repulsive because it was her; Mitsuba might have taken on the form of a man to come to him, and his body, encouraged by the twisted imaginations of his mind, hungrily accepted whatever she gave and demanded more.

"You almost make me think you've done this before," she whispered. He. Sougo. The illusion shattered at the sound of Sougo's voice, and Hijikata found himself crashing back to reality, where she no longer existed in life and he was actually engaged in sexual intercourse with her only brother. He was still too dazed with pleasure to feel physical revulsion, but his mind retched at the position he was in and took control of his physical movements.

Okita grabbed the hands that tried to shove him away. "When I see you, I miss her even more." He buried his face in Hijikata's neck, and Hijikata jerked at the hot wetness that burned against his skin. "I hate you, Hijikata-san." He drove deeper into Hijikata's body, hard, steady thrusts that sparked pleasure that Hijikata had never felt before. "I was hoping that by taking you, I could somehow help her have you." Hijikata's heart twisted at the pain in the words, and he cautiously wrapped his arms around Okita and drew him closer. Was this what she would have wanted him to do? How did she provide comfort to her brother? He had never thought to ask.

"It's all your fault it's not working." Okita sought his mouth desperately, and he kissed back, taking control of the situation and arching up to meet Okita's thrusts - Mitsuba would have done anything to ease her brother's anguish, and he strived to take on her role, inadequate as he was as a replacement.

"Don't," Okita choked, "Bastard, you've already done more than enough."

They both froze at the sound of the doors to the dojo suddenly sliding open. "Sougo," a familiar voice called. Hijikata clenched around Okita in apprehension, dread curling in his belly, Kondou must not see this; he cannot see this. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the wooden floor, but every move served only to intensify their arousal - Okita let out a choked gasp of involuntary pleasure; Hijikata suspected Okita was inexperienced in this despite his control. Okita was too easily excited, too responsive and eager.

"Toshi," Kondou's voice sounded strangled, and Hijikata heard the unvoiced accusation in the single word. They were both willing - he and Sougo, and thus the blame lay entirely with him for failing to prevent himself from succumbing to the desire. He could not push Sougo away now, and he would not, knowing that Okita would be permanently hurt by the rejection after the confession, and Hijikata could not allow himself to do that. He wondered what they looked like, young man-child and older man tangled together on the wooden floor in a frantic coupling. He thought of the nameless youth that had moaned his pleasure under him, thought of those two painful nights spent during spring. Okita was anything but that. Beautiful in his aroused state, he was the perfect mixture of hard iron and youthful malleability. Hijikata knew that his mind was once against shaping Okita into his ideal of Okita's sister, but the sight heightened his own arousal and deepened his hidden longing for Mitsuba.

"Toshi." Hijikata felt warm hands brush away the sweat-slicked hair from his face tenderly. Sougo looked up, and the hands moved to wipe away the tears from Okita's face with equal care. The streaks on Okita's face surprised him despite his knowledge of Okita crying - when had they come to the point where the sight of each other drove them to mutual flagellation?

Kondou carefully lifted him up - and Okita with him - so that he half-leaned against Kondou with Okita pressed up against him. Kondou must have made some sign to Okita from behind him, because Okita dropped his head onto Hijikata's shoulder and started thrusting up into him again, the gravity helping him move deeper into Hijikata's body even as Hijikata pressed down onto the hardness driving into him. It was as if Kondou's presence had smoothened the exchange between them, eased the conflict and brought the need they had for each other out into the open. In Kondou's presence, their underlying mutual resentment faded to the background, and they were able to focus instead on fulfilling their respective needs without subconsciously lashing out at each other.

Okita came first, thrusting raggedly into Hijikata in short, violent strokes before filling him with an uncomfortable stickiness. A hand that stroked his own member brought him to completion not soon after, his muscles clenching around the softening member as he gasped out his own pleasure. Kondou's arms tightened around Hijikata while his right hand sped up its movements, drawing Hijikata's pleasure from him until he went limp in his Commander's arms.

"I will not be as lenient the next time I catch both of you doing this." Hijikata twisted his head around to look at Kondou. Kondou's features were strained, and he could see the worry underlying the reproach.

"It's all Hijikata-san's fault," Okita said tiredly, but the words this time held no malice, said more out of habit than anything else. Kondou's arms were still wrapped protectively around Hijikata, and Hijikata tightened his own arms around Okita, pulling the young body closer - it was his fault, he thought, still remembering how Sougo's lips had felt under his own. The first tendrils of guilt were already making themselves despite his own and Kondou's efforts, and Hijikata was suddenly overcome by a need to detach himself from this strange, twisted bond that the three of them shared.

"Kondou-san," he said, turning back to the front to stare down at the top of Okita's head, humiliation warring with the satisfaction of physical release within him, "What about you?" Kondou shifted uneasily, his hard erection pressing against Hijikata through the fabric of his kimono. "It'll go away."

"It won't." Hijikata lightly let go of Okita and turned around. He deftly undid the Kondou's obi despite his Commander's protests, wasting no time in finding Kondou's hardness with his fingers and stroking it swiftly with his right hand. He felt Okita watching, the young man's gaze heated and hungry, as he bent down to take the hard piece of flesh in between his lips, exercising extreme control to prevent himself from gagging at the taste and texture of the flesh under his tongue.

Hesitant fingers snaked under his kimono and rubbed against his entrance, probing gently at the sore area before pressing inside. Hijikata choked around the flesh in his mouth at the intrusion; his body was still loose from being fucked, and every touch against the sensitised flesh made him gasp in pleasure, his hot breath blowing across the already very erect cock that hardened even further as he sucked laboriously.

"Toshi, I can't take this from you, not with you in this state..." A slight scrape of his teeth against the foreskin, and Kondou was pulsing in his mouth, feeling his tastebuds with a bitter essence that made his stomach curl in abhorrence. He abruptly released the member, jerking away and feeling Okita's fingers slide out of his body with the sudden movement. He felt strangely bereft without the fingers buried in his body - the emptiness, coupled with the disgust his body felt at the foreign taste in his mouth, led him to turn violently aside and dry-retch, his body heaving with racking gasps and coughs even though he vomited nothing but air and some of the bitter substance, mingled with his own bile.

"Kondou-san, we should forget this." The pain in Kondou's eyes will probably haunt him throughout the years. He should have accepted the initial generosity and left it at that. This one single mistake, and all that he had painstakingly built was falling apart by the seams.

Sougo pressed up against him possessively, his arms drawing Hijikata into a tight embrace that moved the two of them away even further from their Commander in this strange relationship.

Mitsuba binds us together, Hijikata thought wearily, and neither of us have the will to release ourselves.

***

X. Kannazuki: Month without gods

The acknowledgement of Muramasa's hold over him was humiliating. His first impulse was to tell Sougo - he did not want to burden Kondou with such absurdities, and his guilt over jeopardising their relationship by making the wrong decision at such a crucial moment still hounded him even after a year from the disaster.

He had not expected Okita to take his concerns seriously - he himself thought that he was bordering on insanity by believing the mad stories of a decrepit old man, but looking at the Tomoe-chan figurines that were strewn about the room, he could no longer delude himself as to the truth of the ridiculous legend.

"I'm being possessed by an otaku whose spirit got trapped in a sword I now own and can't get rid of," he said, regretting his choice of words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth, and Okita, doubling over with his effort to conceal his laughter, only made him feel even more helpless.

"I'm serious, Sougo," he said, aching to draw his sword and beat Okita over the head with it, although that now no longer seemed an option with Muramasa safely sheathed by his side.

"I'll take over your place when you finally evolve into a full-fledged otaku, Hijikata-san," Sougo said, his lips twitching with uncontrolled mirth.

***

"You're really working on it, Hijikata-san," Okita noted with amusement, emptying yet another stash of hurriedly hidden To-Love figurines, limited edition, priced at 20000yen each. "Are you that eager to let me take over your position? I think you'll need at least twenty stomachs to fully complete the sentences for all the offences you have right here."

He whipped out a sailorfuku dress - Tomoe-chan, Hijikata thought with dread - with sadistic glee. "Planning on cosplaying? Hijikata-san, why don't we try it right now?"

"Don't be an idiot, Sougo," Hijikata snapped, snatching the dress and throwing it onto the ground, realising with horror that his feet were steadfastly refusing his mind's orders to stomp on the offending garment.

Okita pulled him down for a kiss. "Don't worry, Hijikata-san," he said as his hands quickly undid the buttons of Hijikata's jacket. "What we do in this room stays in this room."

***

Hijikata sloshed the wine in his glass about irritably before gulping it down. The liquid burned in his throat, and his eyes filled with moisture from the stimulation by the alcohol. He sloppily held out his glass for a refill, waving aside the bartender's admonitions and swallowing the new wine in one go. He stood unsteadily, swaying dangerously on his feet, right arm once again outstretched for a refill. He was hoping that if he drank enough he might be able to drown Muramasa with alcohol, and along with Muramasa all crazy thoughts about Tomoe-chan and Hikari-chan and To Love Only doujinshi events. The ploy seemed to be failing abysmally, as Muramasa only got drunk along with him and came up with even crazier ideas, mostly involving a certain life-size bust doll with the most ridiculous body proportions ever.

A hand helped steady him before he fell over on his feet. Hijikata squinted, the dim light of the bar and his own blurred drunken vision making it impossible for him to distinguish anything but vaguely blurry shapes that moved about the room.

"Sou...go?" he asked, the words barely comprehensible with his slur, before finally collapsing in a drunken heap.

***

Hijikata awoke to the familiar wooden beams of the ceilings in the Shinsengumi barracks. His head spun with the aftermath of the alcohol of the previous night, and Muramasa hummed in annoyance in the background when Hijikata's body failed to respond to its command to turn on the television for the opening sequence of Tomoe-chan. Hijikata turned his face into his pillow - it was all right, he had already set the tape recorder to auto-record anyway.

"Hijikata-kun," a voice said from behind him. Hijikata turned over to see Itou sitting cross-legged over him, his eyes hidden by the glint of his glasses, mouth curved slightly in that damned cynical smirk of his. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

"One year, Hijikata-kun," Itou said, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "One year, and I actually find Kondou Isao rebuking you on my behalf." He smiled. "I see that you're hardly surprised at my knowledge, Hijikata-kun. I bet you're chafing to know who exactly is my source of information, not that it would do anything to better your current position."

Itou leaned forward. "Kondou obviously still has a soft spot for you, regardless of whatever had happened to break up the blind trust he had in your abilities; if I had my way you would be passed on to me to deal as I pleased. Now, however, you're..." he paused thoughtfully, "I really shouldn't be telling you this; it's meant to be a surprise, after all."

Hijikata forced himself up despite the splitting migraine he had. "If you're done, get out."

Itou lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Vice-Commander, you really should see the relative positions we're in." He tugged at the sleeve of Hijikata's kimono and moved his hands over to the front to part the folds of the garment. Hijikata's breath caught in his throat, drunken memories of yesterday night returning in tantalising flashes, and the memories were rather firm on the fact that he had been dressed in his official uniform.

"Oh, don't worry, I haven't done anything...yet." Itou said, his voice tinged with amusement, "I like my partners to be perfectly aware of who I am and what precisely I'm doing do them."

"I treat our deal as being still on foot, Hijikata-kun," he whispered softly, "I really hope you've missed me."

Hijikata had a brief battle with Muramasa - the sword won in the end, and Tosshi took over, quickly moving in to dictate his responses to the hands that had now fully undressed him.

"I've dreamed of having you cowering under me," Itou said with a sigh, "But I really much prefer you being stubborn and rebellious - it makes it all so much more satisfying."

The otaku shuddered in terror while Hijikata himself trembled with uncontrolled fury. Muramasa seemed an unassailable weight that refused to budge no matter how he pushed against it. Through his view from the deepest recesses of his soul, he watched Tosshi cower in fright, tears rolling down his cheeks as Itou turned him over and roughly took him from behind.

"Nevertheless, I'll take anything I can get," Itou said, "But do return to your normal self eventually, Hijikata-kun."

Hijikata seethed at the humiliation.

***

XI. Shimotsuki: Frost

Okita found Hijikata after on his futon where Itou left him in one of his extremely rare moments of self-possession, Tosshi having broken down under the pressure and fled back into the comforts of his steel sanctum, leaving Hijikata to deal with the aftermath of the trauma that Tosshi had inflicted upon his physical body. Tosshi, not Itou, for Itou, in his curiosity and professed dislike of the new Hijikata beyond his physical appearance, had tried every means possible to force Tosshi to retaliate in self-defence, something which Tosshi failed to do; in fact, Tosshi was so incapacitated by terror that he failed even to surrender Hijikata's body to its actual owner at the beginning of the ordeal, when Hijikata would still have been able to make some use of his body to fight back.

"Hijikata-san, I knew there had been someone else ever since that first time," Okita said.

"Didn't know it was him, however," he continued frostily. "Hijikata-san, you have extremely weird tastes.

Sister excluded," he added as an afterthought.

"Are you yourself right now?" he asked. Hijikata did not bother to answer; talking seemed to require almost herculean strength right now.

"I guess not," Okita said, sounding almost disappointed. "Don't worry, Hijikata-san, or otaku-san, whichever one you are right now." He gathered Hijikata in his arms. "It's all going to be over really, really soon."

***

Itou's grave lay among the graves of the Shinsengumi members sacrificed in battle. A man who committed seppuku died with honour, and one who went forward to meet his sentence also died as one of the Shinsengumi. His grave was a simple, unadorned plot of soil, like the many others that had died before him and with him; they owned nothing but their swords, which they brought into their graves with them.

If only he were you.

Hijikata looked up at the white buds that lined the branches of the plum blossom tree next to Itou's grave. Despite his ancestry and heritage, Itou was strangely unasked for; most Shinsengumi members with family members had a relative that stepped forward to claim them at death - normally a request that was refused unless it was the deceased's own express will to be returned to his ancestral home.

"How long are you planning to stand there for?" he asked suddenly.

Gintoki shifted and straightened himself slightly from his slouch against one of the poles. "It says there personnel only."

"Natural perm, it says so on the inside of the door out into this courtyard."

Gintoki scratched his head. "Really? Oh well, that's what comes out of owing massive debts - you don't get to dictate your creditors' movements, even when they're in your territory." He grinned. "I could probably bankrupt the Shinsengumi right now if I wanted to."

"Not without proof of debt, you can't. Harada told me he hasn't signed anything."

Gintoki shrugged. "Fine, then I could bankrupt both you and Gorilla. Express verbal agreement." He idly picked his nose and flicked the pickings off his fingers.

"He said we were alike," Hijikata said suddenly.

"You and him?" Gintoki scoffed, "How could anyone share your love for dog food?"

Hijikata rested his chin on his knees. "I think we were." He pulled his haori more tightly around himself. The winter this year was bitingly cold.

"I should have realised earlier what he needed," he said softly.

The long silence after that prompted him to turn around. Gintoki was looking at him thoughtfully, his half-lidded eyes a tad wider in their contemplative state.

"Trust me, you're not alike at all. And I'm telling you this from my complete and totally unbiased view of you as a masochistic mayonnaise addict who enjoys nothing more than inflicting trauma upon himself."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, natural perm."

"Really? You seemed to be begging for it."

"Shut up."

***

XII. Shiwasu: Prayer

"Vice Commander, Sensei left this for you." The young member fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, almost fleeing in relief when Hijikata carelessly dismissed him with a nod of his head, leaving behind a bundle wrapped in coarse sackcloth.

The rough fabric fell apart to reveal two branches of bamboo, verdant and brilliant under the early winter dawn. A small note was tied with a red string to one of the branches.

Hijikata Toushirou - Spring of the past year

"Toshi," Kondou entered the room with Sougo by his side. "Time to countdown to hatsunohide." Hijikata carefully rewrapped the branches in the cloth and stood up. "I'll be there."

"Who's that from?" Sougo asked curiously. Hijikata hesitated a moment before replying.

"An old friend."

***

My recipient is awesome for thinking of this. It was completely beyond my realms of imagination...and still is.