Chapter Text
1865, January (pt 2)
“Come out, Chizuru-chan,” he calls from his sprawl across the engawa steps. Okita appears perfectly at ease, face upturned and kissed by the rays of morning sun. Caught out, Chizuru would be blushing if not for the gravity of the revelation. Her steps are tentative as she comes around beside.
“So, you heard all that, huh?” His eyes are still closed. Chizuru examines the lines of her intertwined fingers, and she hesitates.
“Okita-san,” she says. It’s all that she can manage.
Her father was—is—a doctor. She isn’t as unfamiliar with death as other girls her age might be. Still, tuberculosis. Okita. Okita. Dyi—
“You don’t really believe all that stuff,” he replies. Her eyes have started to water; his have finally opened. “That old guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Do I look like a sick person to you?” He’s trying to catch a glimpse of her face.
She won’t meet his eyes. “Okita-san.”
“Come on, relax. And don’t go telling anyone about this. If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”
“You always say that.”
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“Matsumoto-sensei says you need to rest, for your health,” she says, and this time she does look at him. Beautiful, ridiculous, dangerous Okita, with a Hijikata-shaped chip on his shoulder and not enough time on his hands.
“I’m not leaving,” Okita says firmly. He doesn’t sound angry so much as resigned. He lifts a hand to block the light, fingers splayed and edges glowing against the sun. There’s something almost peaceful in his voice as he continues. “There’s really nowhere else for me to go. I won’t abandon Kondo-san, not ever, and what am I if not the sword of the Shinsengumi? That’s really all I’m good for.”
The silence is a shroud, a blanket on a hot day. Chizuru doesn’t know what to say, feels like she can’t breathe.
Okita chuckles, and the spell breaks. Chizuru rages, just a tad.
“Okay,” she said hotly, but adds in desperation, “I won’t tell, but don’t drink so much sake, and you need to eat more fruits and vegetables.”
“Alright, Okaa-san,” Okita quips. Deep inside, they know it’s meaningless.
Still, to pretend.
Chizuru sits on the steps long after Okita wanders away. It’s only then that she lets her tears fall.