Chapter Text
That Sunday is for the 5th division training at the dojo. As Hijikata watches from the yard, catching glimpses of shinai being swung in taught repetition, he counts that it’ll take a month before he himself could get that lesson from the Commander. Sunday is a weird mixture of work and no work, Hijikata realizes. It’s a day-off for everyone who knows what the hell a Sunday is, which pretty much includes the entire world; but for a civil servant like him, every day is a work-day. When he was still just like everybody else who are oblivious to the work ethics of society, how it revolves around services, Hijikata never really gave it a thought. Sunday is a day-off, and that’s it. Now that he’s seeing it on a different light, he realizes how much he’s taken for granted, Sunday that is. The clerks at the convenience store, the traffic policemen, the postmen, the security guards, the ladies at department store; Hijikata understands the concept of work-shift now.
That’s pretty late, isn’t it? Learning about society at the age of… how old is he again?
His last birthday, when was it? Hijikata recounts and recounts and then remembers the sakura mochi he got from that old man back in Bushuu. The man knew him and his story, how he was thrown away by the Hijikata household, the tragedy preceding it. The man also happened to know of his birthday, because he always gave Hijikata the sakura mochi his wife made. Even as a kid, Hijikata has no affinity whatsoever towards sweets. But he was well-raised in terms of manner, he knew not to decline people’s gifts. And Hijikata also learned from early age, how rare gifts are for someone like him.
When was that? That was his 15th birthday, wasn’t it? Up until that point Hijikata could still count the years that had passed. The old man died the next year and his sense of time fully crumbled ever since then. He estimated about 5 or so Springs have passed. At one point he had tried to keep count of the years again, using the koinobori as marker. But that was useless because rather than being a helpful reminder of the passing time, it made Hijikata remembers his annoying story instead. He stopped counting after the 5th time.
“Stop spacing out in the middle of nowhere.” Hijikata yelps at the sudden yank of his hair, immediately turning his back and glaring at the culprit.
“That hurt, bastard!”
“That’s not how you greet your commanding officer, Oogushi-kun.” Gintoki tsks, he wastes no time in shoving a finger inside his nose to pick on his booger. What is with him and having a finger up his nose all the time? If it’s not nose, then it’s ear. If it’s not ear, then it’s nose. Hijikata dreads to think of what the Vice-commander’s nails look like.
“As if you behave like a commanding officer yourself, permhead.” Hijikata pats his ponytail, nursing the slight sting from that abrupt pull.
Gintoki flicks his booger in the air. There it goes, a cannon ball tossed in the air. Disgusting. “You want me to say ‘go commit seppuku’, huh? Is that what you want? I’ll say it then, go commit seppuku, ponytail-kun.”
This guy.
This damn guy.
“Ah, Gin!” Hijikata jerks at the boisterous voice of the Commander, calling from the dojo entrance. Kondou spotted the silver haired man and immediately calls for the guy. “How about a demonstration from the Vice-chief? Come on, you can show them a thing or two.”
Kondou steps a bit further on the engawa, his shinai over his shoulder. “Everyone really wants to see the legendary Shiroyasha-dono’s move.”
Hijikata takes a quick look at Gintoki who’s still standing next to him. The guy still has that blank, dead look on his face but something tells him that another thing is hidden behind those maroon orbs. Dead but, irked?
“I’m barely paid enough to put up with these bunch of monkey and loose gorilla, I’m definitely not paid at all to be a circus instructor.” Gintoki sneers.
“Oi, you’re already getting paid more than me, Gintoki. These guys already respect you more than I am. Which one of us is the Commander, actually?”
“Don’t care, I’m just here because of that crazy old man.” Gintoki begins walking away, waving a hand dismissing the Commander. “Monkeys should just learn from their own kind; a gorilla instructor is more than good enough.”
Hijikata watches the whole exchange and he learns nothing about this whole organization. He’s stuck in place with both nothing and everything filling his head. What is this feeling, this limbo of a sense between understanding and not, what’s the given word to this emotion… Ah! Confusion!
Yeah. He’s confused as fuck.
“He’s always like that.” Kondou’s words snap Hijikata back to reality and his eyes immediately fixes on the Commander. The man’s words are directed into the air, but for some reason, Hijikata feels like it’s directed to him as well. Does Kondou-san recognize him?
“If you don’t have any work for today, you can come inside the dojo and watch.” Hijikata blinks at Kondou-san’s smile.
“Toshi.” Hijikata’s breath hitches.
“You look cheerful, Hijikata-san.” Yamazaki sits next to Hijikata in their usual corner at the canteen. Hijikata peers over the older man as he’s just about to dig into his mayonnaise bowl. Praised that the mayonnaise stock in the barrack is already refilled. It seems that the next day after he had that small complaint with (or was it from?) the rotten permhead, mayonnaise is back on the menu. Well, his menu that is. No other person uses it as much as he does, order it as much as Hijikata does. He wonders if the cafeteria lady will accept dedicating a single dish to his preference.
“Hijikata-san?”
The raven blinks. Wow, it really is that easy to ignore Yamazaki. He really just blends into the background and able to be dismissed in a single train of thought. If Hijikata thinks about it, that’s an impressive ability for a spy.
“Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”
“I said you look cheerful today. Something good happened?” His first urge is to blurt out everything at the other guy. The fact that he met Kondou-san today and the man acknowledged him? Even as far as letting him watch the lesson?
So much that he wants to spill over Yamazaki because the guy is a good listener, and Hijikata needs to release this energy from him lest he bursts at unreasonable hour like during his private tutoring by that stupid Vice-commander.
“They have mayonnaise again.”
“You’re very predictable, Hijikata-san.”
Hijikata digs in.
“I met Kondou-san.”
“You finally did?”
“Yeah, and he recognizes me.” Hijikata hides the smile that is threatening to spread across his face by stuffing himself with food.
Yamazaki smiles, looking genuinely pleased for the other. “That’s great to hear.”
Hijikata doesn’t explain further, there’s not much to divulge, anyway. He met Kondou-san, got invited to watch the class, exchanged a few words with the man, but that was pretty much it. Kondou asked about him and Hijikata fumbled with telling the truth, how he had looked around for the other, even as far as to going to Edo. Kondou apologized for leaving him behind and Hijikata replied with how there wasn’t anything to apologize for in the first place.
It eases him immensely how Kondou not only remember him, but also his name, even using the nickname that the dojo leader had used back in Bushuu. Only him and his late brother that have ever used that name. Hijikata had given it for Kondou to use when he was rescued and taken in by Kondou. To have the man still remembering him, with the nickname as well, Hijikata is so delighted that he happily trains alone in the dark dojo. He recalls the lesson he saw earlier that day and reenacts the swing to the best ability. It’s easier for him to strike with Kondou’s dojo style, it feels comfortable. The lesson earlier provides a refresher to his memory, filling in the gaps that he has forgotten after the separation.
“Mind if I join you?” Gintoki casts a glance at the other, not saying anything. Kondou takes the silent as a yes, just like usual. Gintoki doesn’t really talk much, if you truly observe him. He talks crash and dismisses people easily, that’s all that he usually does. Even as someone who has known Gintoki the longest in the Shinsengumi, it’s rare to see the silver-haired samurai bickers openly with anyone, let alone with a subordinate.
Kondou sits next to Gintoki on the engawa, both peering over the pond in the courtyard, gazing at the reflected moon on the still water.
“I asked Zaki that you’re the one who recruited Toshi into the Shinsengumi.”
“He was looking for you.”
Kondou huffs a smile. “Yeah, well, I did leave him behind. I didn’t get the chance to ask him to join back then because of Tottsan’s urgent call.”
The Commander looks at his second-in-command. “And you as well, Gintoki.”
It was the both of them. He was acquainted with Gintoki during the war. The Bushuu province wasn’t affected badly during the invasion, it was left mostly untouched by the Amanto because it was the countryside. Edo was the ground-zero. Gintoki—back then, everyone only knew him as Shiroyasha, was more of a lone wolf during his operations. As such, the man usually traversed the periphery of the battlefield to catch the enemy off guard. Kondou met him on several occasions when Gintoki passed Bushuu. Either on his way to the back of the enemy or retreating from injuries, the infamous war general had spent a couple times recuperating in Kondou’s dojo.
They parted ways, didn’t really keep in tabs. They let fate guides them. If they happen to cross path, then so be it. Around the end of the war, Kondou received a message from Matsudaira Katakuriko, the newly appointed Police Commissioner, a request of Kondou’s immediate presence in Edo. He called for Kondou’s dojo students as well (or as the Director had eloquently put it, “Any sorry bum samurai you could find there in the countryside, just bring them here.”). In Edo, he met Gintoki again, this time permanently acquainted with the silver-haired samurai. In the beginning, Kondou knows nothing of the Police Director. It wasn’t until Matsudaira told him accidentally that Gintoki was the one who recommended Kondou for the then Roshigumi.
When Gintoki doesn’t give a hint of starting the conversation, Kondou takes the liberty. He’s always been the one who starts it, to be honest. “He told me about how he worked hard to get to Edo. Toshi has always had a rough childhood. I really felt bad for leaving him behind.”
Hijikata’s hometown is a village away from Kondou’s own, but words travel easily back in those days. People know about everyone in the countryside. He’s heard about a stray thorny kid who picks fight across the town. Asking the local shop baa-san “What’s the deal about that kid with the ponytail?” and Kondou learned enough to know of the Hijikata family and who the brat was.
“When I first found him, he was sleeping on piles of trash in the alley at the back of the barracks.”
Kondou’s eyes widen slightly before relaxing into a knowing smile.
“So you brought him in.”
Gintoki doesn’t say anything.
“Just like how you brought him to my dojo back then.” Kondou leans back, propped by his arms.
It was in the middle of winter, Gintoki came to his dojo again. It wasn’t unusual for the man to drop by whenever he’s in town, but what’s new was the other person he was carrying with him. Injured and unconscious, the Shiroyasha brought the raven boy to Kondou’s dojo. The silver-haired samurai only stayed briefly to drop the kid before leaving for the battlefield again. Hijikata didn’t wake up to see his true savior, he only woke up to Kondou nursing his wounds.
“He still has that bokuto that you left him with.”
Gintoki wielded two swords like any other samurai back in those days. He wielded a katana, but the other weapon was something that samurai don’t usually wield, especially in serious battlegrounds. He had a wooden sword with him. Kondou had only ever seen The Shiroyasha fight twice during the war. Once was when Gintoki fought against the trail that had followed him to the countryside. The white demon was swift in cutting through all those Amantos. The other one was when he fended the small town against bandits that were taking advantage of the turmoil in the country to rob the poor people. Kondou saw how Gintoki wielded the wooden sword just as lethal as he was with the katana.
When Gintoki brought Hijikata to Kondou’s dojo, the unconscious boy was curiously clutching at Gintoki’s bokuto. Kondou didn’t ask him at that time. But after coming to Edo and establishing the Roshigumi into Shinsengumi, Kondou finally asked him.
“Someone like him should have a weapon to defend himself.” The Vice-commander stands up, walking away towards his own quarter.
Kondou huffs a laughter after the other leaves. It’s just like before, the silver-haired man’s answer remains the same.