Background Information on this Alternate Universe: This story follows the timeline of the game until Chapter 3, where we will assume the battle of Toba-Fushimi is not going to take place, and the Shinsengumi will continue being a police force for Kyoto. I'm also keeping them in Nishi Hongwanji rather than Fudodo, for simplicity's sake. We spent a lot of time there, so I'm more familiar with the layout and have a better mental image to write with.

The story follows the game romance, Okita's route, up to the point where Okita is bedridden with tuberculosis but not yet a fury. For the sake of this story, I've removed the furies. And the demons. In fact, the only supernatural entity will be the 'god of wishes' that the Protagonist encounters, but that is something I made up entirely and not from actual mythology.

To Guest Too: Gosh, your reviews are just, insanely amazing. Haha, honestly figuring out how to mime the stuff she says is the hardest part about this story. Sometimes it works... others, not so much. You are spot on about Okita intervening when Hijikata got mad at Chizuru! Kudos for that. Hijikata's a difficult guy to write, so I'm stoked to hear you enjoyed his scenes. I'm also happy that you like this little 'diversion' story, haha :D

[Okita x Chizuru – Very slight AU. Chizuru meets with a god who agrees to cure Okita's tuberculosis if she agrees to not utter a sound for an entire year.]

A Year of Silence

TK Grimm

PART III: VOICE

Flowers in Spring

Chizuru was stubborn. Okita knew this. That was probably one of the bright, shining reasons why she was able to stay quiet for so long. She was determined and had an unwavering resolve, and he had to admit, it was kind of admirable. He didn't like that she was doing this for him, to cure his illness, but now that he'd had time to settle down, the meaning behind her sacrifice struck him deeply.

Good things… didn't happen. Least of all to him. But Chizuru was doing everything she could to be a rare, good thing in his life. He felt like he owed her a debt, but he knew she'd never ask for anything in return. She wasn't doing this to gain something, and that was the most baffling, humbling part of all.

It was all for him.

Since that winter night when he'd learned the truth, Okita gradually started to come to terms with something concerning his life. While his purpose was still to fight for Kondou and kill his enemies… perhaps it wouldn't hurt to devote some of that time to Chizuru.

It was hard now, harder than it ever was before, to push her away. Any time he'd set up barriers or distance between them, she (unwittingly or not) broke them down one by one and caught up to him again. If he was being completely honest, deep down, he was glad that she did. She rose to the challenge and fought for him, in her own way.

So he decided… he wasn't going to push her away anymore. If she wanted to spend time with him, then Okita supposed that was the very least he could do. He'd spend his free time with her, protect her, make her happy.

Because in those moments where she smiled at him and chose to spend time with him over any of the others… well, it almost felt like home.

Is this what Kondou-san meant?

【新選組】

Something had changed in Okita. Chizuru wasn't completely sure what it was or when it happened, but gradually, he'd warmed up to her. He usually tolerated her before and teased her with his humor, but now, she noticed, he smiled more. He went out of his way to visit her and take her along on his patrols of Kyoto.

A year ago, she never would have imagined such a thing was possible. But now, he actually seemed, well, genuinely happy to be around her. She didn't dare ask him what had changed. What if she messed it up? It was too wonderful to question. She just wanted to enjoy it for as long as she possibly could.

As the snow began to melt, and the first signs of spring were in the air, the two of them spent more time outside. The coming of April meant the blooming of shibazakura, or pink moss. They were tiny pink flowers the bloomed in large quantities.

"I have an idea," Okita said suddenly. He took Chizuru's hand and led her into the grassy area of the inner courtyard where several bunches of pink moss were growing. Gently, he pushed her down onto the ground so she was sitting. Okita sat down in front of her and began searching through the little flowers, plucking certain ones that he deemed acceptable.

Okita was very good with his hands, and that wasn't limited to swordplay. Chizuru envied his talents. She watched in fascination as he expertly arranged the flowers into the red cord that bound her ponytail in place.

"I know you're pretending to be a boy," he said, "but I bet that wears even you down after a while."

He was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for. Chizuru felt her face flare up in a blush, but she didn't dare move. She could feel his fingers in her hair, arranging the tiny pink flowers just so. Never before had she felt so spoiled. She was smiling from ear to ear.

Now that Okita knew Chizuru wasn't keeping quiet because she was mad at him, he was much more understanding of her silence. It was difficult to think about what she was doing. He knew she was holding her tongue to cure his illness. He didn't want her to go through such a difficult ordeal for his sake, but the fact that she was…

She'd always been interesting. Even on that first night, all those years ago, when they'd brought her to the Shinsengumi's headquarters in Mibu. She was different from the other girls, an amusing curiosity. A single piece of innocence in a cruel, tainted world. Maybe that's why he protected her so many times. To preserve that.

Okita was drawn to her. She was like a magnet. If he could resist checking on her, then she would find him instead. It was a distraction, a possible weakness, one that he sometimes tried to cut out of himself like a cancer. Most of the time, he just didn't understand it. Didn't want to try.

And now… everything and nothing had changed. She wasn't just some girl, she was that girl, the one who was always there, who cared, who would never betray, leave, or abandon him, unlike…

Unlike…

"There," he said when he finished. Chizuru looked so happy. Okita lightly touched her chin with his finger and turned her head gently from side to side so he could examine his work. The pink flowers suited her, and they matched well with her kimono. "It's pretty."

Chizuru blushed, as he knew she would, and bit her lower lip to try to keep her smile from reaching megawatt brightness. He liked seeing her so giddy. She looked at him, released her lip, and bowed her head in gratitude.

Okita let go of her chin and moved so he was sitting beside her rather than across from her. Chizuru was equal parts shy with sweetness. She wasn't used to physical contact. Given his personality, Okita liked to sometimes… push those boundaries. And so, with Chizuru distracted by her flowers and her happiness, Okita slowly leaned his head down on her shoulder.

She immediately tensed up. He could picture her wide-eyed expression and closed his eyes with a smile. Okita didn't move an inch. Eventually, Chizuru relaxed, though the heat he could feel from her face was a pretty grand indication of her heavy blush.

"Three more months to go," he said, distracting her from his touch. There was something generally relaxing about Chizuru's presence. She had a calm, soothing effect on him that he'd never noticed (or paid attention to) before. He didn't have to hide anything from her. She'd seen his best and worst and still wanted to be with him. That was devotion, no matter how you looked at it. And Okita… liked it. He liked her devotion.

He opened his eyes and glanced down right as her fingers twitched toward his hand. She immediately froze and stopped, choosing instead to fidget with the fabric of her hakama.

Is this what she wants? he wondered. Could he be that for her? Could he repay her for saving his life by giving her a piece of his? It was only fair, and honestly… it didn't sound too bad. Okita was supposed to give all of his life to Kondou, but… but maybe there was enough left over that he could give the rest to Chizuru. If she wanted it.

"When you get your voice back," he said quietly, "you should call me Souji."

Her lips parted in surprise, and Okita couldn't help but grin. Luckily, she couldn't see the expression on his face, or she'd get mad at him for teasing her. He meant it, though. He wanted her to call him that.

He raised his hand to reach for hers and then turned it over so her palm was facing up. Okita ran his index finger lightly over her palm as he moved his lips by her ear. "Can you do that for me? Chizuru-chan…"

It was a miracle she didn't faint.

【新選組】

One thing Okita never realized was that, in rare moments like that where he became too preoccupied with Chizuru, he dropped his guard. It led to the even rarer moment in which both Kondou and Hijikata could watch him from afar and not be noticed.

Okita and Chizuru sitting in a garden of flowers was a sight anyone in the Shinsengumi would have stopped to see. But for the two that did discover it, well, it was such a perfect moment that neither of them could bring themselves to break it.

From their vantage point, Kondou quietly conversed with his old friend. "Somehow, it never occurred to me that Yukimura-kun was the answer to all of my hopes for Souji."

"I wouldn't say he's ready to settle down," said Hijikata. "But if I had to leave Souji's future in someone's hands, she's the one I'd feel most comfortable with."

"That's practically a glowing recommendation, coming from you," Kondou said teasingly.

Hijikata made a quiet, amused sound before adding, "That being said, neither of them are very adept at recognizing their own feelings. Particularly Chizuru."

Kondou wasn't worried. "Don't worry so much, Toshi. Let them be young. They both know more about love than you might think."

Relapse

Contrary to what anyone else thought, Chizuru knew a lot about love. Or at least, she'd learned a lot over the past year. She was no fool; Okita held her heart in the palm of his hands. Maybe he always had. It had been her feelings, her choice, which led to her sacrificing her voice for him, to taking on this nearly impossible challenge, without asking for anything in return other than his health and happiness.

If that wasn't love, then what was?

No, Chizuru knew. She knew, and the more time that passed, the closer he got to her, the more cemented that fact became. He didn't push her away anymore. He indulged her, was kind to her, and he called her pretty and made her happy. There was no greater reward for a girl in love.

The weeks passed by, changing into months, and soon, the promised day of Chizuru's bargain was just a couple of days away. She spent most of her time with Okita. Nowadays, he indulged her company and returned her affection—in his own, teasing way, as if he couldn't quite understand what he was doing and why but was unable to stop himself from it anyway.

Despite the Choshu rebels all but disappearing these days, Kyoto was still a dangerous place. Most suspected they were biding their time to make one last strike against the Aizu Clan and the Shinsengumi. Chizuru didn't like to think about it, but she could tell Okita had been itching for a good fight.

She never doubted his ability. Never doubted the fact that he could defeat any opponent he came across. But no one was immortal, and the greatest swordsman in the world was still subject to the whim of things like fate and luck. The truth was, no matter how skilled Okita was, anything could happen.

Everyone expected the Choshu to ally with Satsuma and attack the Fushimi Magistrate's office. On that day, two days before Chizuru's one year mark, word of the attack reached the Aizu Clan, and the Shinsengumi was deployed.

Only the First Division stayed behind to guard the Shinsengumi's headquarters. That had been Kondou's direct order, not Hijikata's.

Okita looked the picture of frozen devastation, torn between disbelief and revulsion. "You're not… taking me with you?"

For the first time in a while, Kondou was exercising tough love. He reached over and put his hand on Okita's shoulder. "I need you here, Souji. You're one of my strongest, most capable warriors. If something happens to this place while we're protecting Lord Matsudaira, then I need to know someone trustworthy and reliable can handle things here. There's no one who fits those qualities better than you."

"I'm supposed to fight at your side," Okita said. His ears were ringing. The tips of his fingers felt numb. It was one thing to be left behind in his sickness, but he was healthy. "I want to follow—"

"Souji," Kondou said, his tone showing no room for argument. Okita immediately shut his mouth, powerless in the face of the one he loved most. And Kondou… Kondou steeled his resolve, putting on his strongest, fatherly face to do what must be done. "I have carried you for many years, but I cannot do that forever. It's time you made some of your own choices and lived for yourself. You are not a stepping stone for me!"

Okita recoiled in shock. Kondou never raised his voice, especially not to him. He opened his mouth a few times, but he couldn't even find the strength to speak, much less two words to string together.

Kondou felt himself wavering at the look on Okita's face. He clenched his hands into fists to steady himself so he would not falter. He lowered his voice, but he did not abandon the strength in the finality of his tone. "I want the First Division to guard our headquarters. Can you handle that, Souji?"

Even with his mind reeling, Okita managed to autopilot himself into a response. "Yes… Kondou-san."

Being a warrior was one thing, a leader another, but none of it compared to the trials of being a father. Whether bound by blood or not—and Kondou would know something about a father-son bond not blood related—the choices and steps taken to help boys grow into men were never easy. But all birds must leave the nest someday.

Still, Kondou couldn't handle playing the villain for long. His shoulders sagged, and he found himself regretting his actions. "Souji," he said, much more kindly. "You will always be family to me, but I don't want you to live your life for me. I want you to live your life for you. And now, your illness is gone, and you can finally do that. You may not understand the importance or significance of a wife and family now, but someday you will. If it means you will continue fighting as a Captain of the Shinsengumi, then that's fine."

Kondou reached out again and put his hand on top of Okita's head. "But listen," he continued. "There's more to you than this. You're not alive to fight for me or kill my enemies. You're not a sword for the Shinsengumi with no feelings or goals of your own. You're not mindless." He took a breath, hoping that he was getting through to him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Kondou finished. He dropped his hand from Okita's head and let it hang at his side. "But I'm doing this because I love you and want what's best for you. One day, when you're a parent, you'll understand. Family is home, and that is where your heart must truly lie."

Okita didn't know what to say. Few people could render him speechless like that. He watched Kondou's back as he walked away from him. Part of him wanted to reach out, maybe even beg, anything that might make Kondou turn around and come back. But another part, small and fragile and hardly aware of its own existence, thought about the lesson Kondou was trying to teach him. It was the same lesson he'd been pondering for the past six months.

Kondou did not always have the answers Okita wanted or agreed with. Sometimes, Okita's questions would find others willing to answer. Sannan in particular had always been good at twisting words in a way that would inspire Okita to continue fighting blindly for the Shinsengumi.

But then… there was also Chizuru. She'd been standing there the whole time and had heard everything Kondou said. Okita wondered, if she could speak, how she would explain the lesson Kondou was trying to teach.

"Could you explain it?" he asked, not truly expecting an answer. "Would you, even?"

He didn't think she would respond, but she did. Chizuru used Harada's notepad, and she wrote to Okita the meaning behind Kondou's words.

Kondou-san wants Okita-san to live life to the fullest. He wants you to experience everything the world has to offer. To be healthy, happy, and free. He loves you.

"I'm happy when I'm fighting for Kondou-san," Okita said, almost robotically. How many times had he been forced to repeat that, like a mantra, after all these years?

Chizuru seemed to mull over her words again and wrote him another note. To live your life as a weapon, you must be willing to die for Kondou-san. To throw away your life for him without thinking of your future. Kondou-san wants Okita-san to think about the future. He wants you to care about your life.

Okita brought his hand up to his forehead to thread his bangs between his fingers in a tight, stress-induced grip. He stared listlessly at the ceiling of the room while he spoke. "If I've devoted that life to Kondou-san, what is there to care about?"

Chizuru didn't know how to answer that.

【新選組】

There was no battle at the Magistrate's office. Instead, Choshu attacked Nishi Hongwanji, seeking not to kill the Kyoto Military Commissioner, but instead to exact revenge upon the Shinsengumi for their defeat in both the Ikedaya Incident and the Kinmon Rebellion.

The First Division was nearly overwhelmed. Despite being outnumbered, they fought valiantly. The temple became the location of a massacre. Blood splattered the floors and walls, and bodies were strewn about where they fell in combat. It was a last ditch effort on the Choshu's behalf to strike the Shinsengumi where it would hurt.

They nearly succeeded. Of all the troops left behind to guard headquarters, the First was probably least suspected. Had the Third been there as well, the battle would have been over before it even began.

Even with the lack of numbers, the First Division nearly annihilated the enemy. Okita, however, was distracted. His mind wasn't on the fight. It was on Kondou, his words, his lesson, and the enigmatic concept of a future that he never believed he had to begin with. Was it really something worth fighting for?

Chizuru saw the moment Okita let his guard down. It was his indecision and distraction that led to a Choshu samurai coming up on him from behind. In the face of her impossible odds and lack of ability, Chizuru did not hesitate. She ran forward as the samurai lifted his blade and pushed Okita out of the way.

The tip of the katana sliced vertically down her arm and left a deep gash. The pain was so intense, so out of nowhere and overwhelming, that Chizuru cried out. Okita registered the sound immediately and whipped around, severing the samurai's head from his body with a single stroke of his katana.

The last enemy fell, but the damage was done.

Chizuru smacked her hands over her mouth in horror. Like a jolt of lightning had passed through his body, a sudden pain shot through Okita. His eyes widened, and a moment later, a terrible cough forced its way out of his throat. It took him by surprise, for it had very nearly been an entire year since he'd last felt symptoms of his illness.

The cough overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees. All of the recovery and progress his body had made vanished in the blink of an eye. He could feel his scarred insides returning to the state they'd been in before Chizuru made that deal. His lungs burned in agony, and each cough brought him closer to a fate he'd thought he'd escaped.

"No!" Chizuru cried. She frantically knelt down beside him and put her hand on his back. "Oh, please, please no! Okita-san!"

He tasted blood in his mouth. The last cough brought it to the surface. He saw it splatter in his hand, drip between his fingers, dark and unhealthy.

"How could I—" she cut herself off, her voice shallow, broken, and unused for so long. "How could I—"

Chizuru turned and ran. Okita reached out toward her, but she slipped between his fingers as another coughing fit brought him to the ground once more. He took small, short breaths to minimize the pain and get it under control.

Forcing himself to his feet, Okita went after her. He supported himself by holding the wall. Was this what he'd felt a year ago? He'd gotten so used to being healthy again that suddenly being struck with advanced pulmonary tuberculosis was like finding yourself waking up in a rotting corpse.

He stepped outside, and fatigue hit him just as hard as his coughs. Okita pressed his hand to his chest, his fingers ensnared in the fabric of his clothes. Each breath was labored. His men were running around frantically, side-stepping corpses and searching for Choshu survivors. One of them slipped in blood and fell over with a startled yelp. Okita ignored them all.

He found Chizuru on her knees in front of the well. Her hands held the rim, strained with white knuckles. Tears poured from her eyes as she sobbed and begged to a deity that just wouldn't listen.

"Please!" she cried. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Give me another chance! Take whatever you want! Take my voice, take my life, take my soul, just please spare him!"

Her voice

Her life

Her soul

All to spare him. To spare Okita, who wasn't worth a single one of those tears. He pushed himself off of the wall and forced enough strength into his legs to walk over to her. Okita collapsed behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, mindful of the shallow wound on her arm. "Chizuru-chan…" He hardly recognized his own voice.

Chizuru tried to pull away from him and continued begging the well. "Please," she said. "Please take me instead. I'm begging you, please… please…"

It hurt to speak, but Okita had no choice. "Stop." He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her backward, into his chest. She wailed and reached for the well, but he wouldn't let her go. It was over now—there was nothing she could do, and he knew it.

But she'd tried. She didn't abandon him like so many others had. Even in the face of her failure, she was offering what little she had to try to fix it. Still, if the god or spirit or whatever it was that she'd summoned did appear and agree to take her life in place of his… Okita wouldn't allow it.

"Please don't cry," he said.

Chizuru couldn't even bring herself to turn around to face him. He'd asked, but she couldn't stop her tears, either. Never before had such a painful, wretched feeling of self-loathing coursed through her before. At that moment, Chizuru was her own worst enemy.

"Okita-san," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

He knew she was. It wasn't like Okita was without those feelings of his own. Regret, frustration, let down hopes—he'd be lying if he said he felt none of those. Despite that, he didn't hold it against her. It was an impossible task from the start. It's so easy to forget how a simple noise like a laugh or a cry or a sound of pain can escape without anyone even noticing. He felt resentment… but he could never feel it toward Chizuru.

With her back pressed against his chest, Okita leaned his head down to Chizuru's left shoulder. He bunched up the fabric of her pink sleeve and pressed it tightly against her wound to stop the bleeding. She wasn't going to move or try to take care of herself, he knew. Someone had to make sure she didn't just sit there crying to the well and bleeding.

"Shh," he said soothingly, ignoring the stinging in his throat. "Don't do this to yourself."

Chizuru buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"I know," said Okita. "But you gave me one last year to be healthy, and that was more than I would have had otherwise. I'm grateful."

He just wished… he wished he'd had more time to be healthy with her. That thought, that regret, was the one that screamed the loudest protest in his mind. It wasn't that he wouldn't go down fighting, that he wouldn't give his life for Kondou, or that this illness had come back to claim him after all.

It was the thought that he'd had another option, one he'd never considered or thought of or even realized was there. There was a possibility, a future, a chance at something different from being a living weapon, being something more—with her…

"But don't you dare… sacrifice your life for mine," he said, his voice straining. "No more deals. A year of silence is one thing, but your life, your soul… Chizuru—"

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his back. She clung to him like a lifeline and cried into his clothes. "Okita-san," she said. How he missed the sound of her voice. "I'm so sorry, Okita-san."

A Loophole

When word arrived at the Fushimi Magistrate's Office that the last of the Choshu had been defeated by the First Division at Nishi Hongwanji Temple, the Aizu Clan rejoiced, and the Shinsengumi set off toward their headquarters to celebrate.

Hijikata was the first to find Okita and Chizuru by the well. Given the way she was crying and how pale Okita looked, he knew right away what had happened. Part of him couldn't believe it, even though he was looking right at them. Chizuru had failed? She'd spoken? While Hijikata had scoffed at the idea of her deal at first, over time he genuinely found himself believing that she would succeed, and everything would go back to normal come July.

And now, the sight before him was crushing. Okita Souji, his annoying little brother who constantly tried to make him miserable, was dying again, only this time, he was doing it in the arms of the woman he loved.

It was too much. Gods and spirits didn't exist in this world to make deals with humanity or to help them. They existed to give them a shred of hope and take it away in the cruelest way possible. If Hijikata saw the God of Wishes, he would draw his sword and kill it without pause.

He took a step forward, but he hesitated. Someone needed to get Okita back into his room to rest. The dreadful heat of Kyoto summer wasn't going to do him any favors in this condition. It almost seemed strange to be thinking about his illness again.

It also appeared Chizuru was wounded, if the blood on her sleeve was anything to go by. It likely happened during the attack and caused her to cry out in pain. To think such a simple thing after all these months…

Seeing them there, sitting like that, clinging to each other despite the cruel twist their fate had taken, Hijikata found himself torn. Even the Demon Vice-Commander couldn't find it in himself to interrupt them, even if it was to send Okita to bed or to send Chizuru to Yamazaki for treatment.

He heard heavy footsteps behind him and knew that it was Kondou by the man's cheerful voice. "I feel like we missed out on quite the battle here! I know it's not supposed to be too noticeable, but I feel like this summer has dragged on even longer than last year's."

Hijikata opened his mouth to respond, but his throat went dry. Words died on the tip of his tongue.

Kondou voiced his uncertainty about Hijikata's lack of response. "Ah… Toshi? Is something—" he broke off as his hazel eyes landed on Okita and Chizuru over by the well. Even for a man as optimistic and bright as Kondou, he still knew what it meant to hear Chizuru's crying. If she was using her voice, it could only mean that one thing.

Hijikata's heart felt like it clenched in his chest. He couldn't let Kondou see, couldn't let him figure out what had happened, that she'd failed, that Okita was sick again—quick, he thought, hide it. He had to protect his friend from anything bad, anything—No. No… Kondou Isami was an adult. Hijikata could not be his shield. Not from this.

"No…" Kondou said, oblivious to the emotional turmoil that Hijikata hid from the world. He took a step forward, toward the well, but the distance was too great. His shock wouldn't carry him that far. "No… Not Souji…"

Without giving himself any further time, Hijikata brought up the walls around his heart once more. Thick, steel, reinforced—strong. He blocked out the world. Then he reached over and put his hand on Kondou's shoulder. "I'll take care of things here," he said. "You should go back inside, Kondou-san."

"No," said Kondou. His voice was thick. He could hardly hear Hijikata over the ringing in his ears. This was his fault. Everything was Kondou's fault. If he hadn't forced Okita to stay behind, if he had let him come along… "Souji—"

"We don't know what happened yet," said Hijikata. The last thing Okita would want would be for Kondou to worry. That he hadn't noticed his presence yet was a small miracle. "Let me talk to them first."

"Souji is—"

"He's not your son," Hijikata said. "Or your younger brother. Or a child. He's a man. He can handle this. Please, Kondou-san, go back inside."

Kondou lingered a moment longer. Hijikata sheltered him, much like Kondou sheltered (or tried to) Okita. But he knew that Okita didn't want him to worry. He also knew that… if he stayed much longer, he was going to break down like Chizuru was. Some strong leader he was, crumbling in the face of tragedy like a young girl.

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. Too weak, Kondou, too weak even now. Okita deserved better from him. There was no way he could face Okita knowing that it was his choice that led to this outcome. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned from the scene. "I just need a moment," he said. He left Hijikata on the veranda and retreated inside.

Though Hijikata braced himself, there was nothing that could have prepared him enough for this. He walked toward them, the sounds of Chizuru's weeping apologies being the only thing his mind could comprehend at the time.

That poor girl. That poor, weak girl. Was it resentment he felt looking down at the two of them? If she had been stronger, more clever, more capable, would she have kept her mouth shut for two more days? That feeling gnawing at his insides… it was acidic.

It vanished when he saw her distraught expression. She was suffering just as much as he was, if not more so. She'd doomed the one she loved. Hijikata's resentment for the fate she'd failed to save Okita from was not for her. Not her.

"Souji," he said. Chizuru probably wouldn't have heard him. "You two should go inside. You need to have Yamazaki treat her wound."

It was probably the only time Okita would ever not sass him about worrying for his health, since Chizuru was injured. Okita didn't even respond, actually. He looked down at Chizuru in his lap and held one hand to the side of her face, the other still on the small of her back.

Neither of them spoke. Okita brushed a few of her tears away with his thumb. Chizuru just looked at him and nodded in understanding. They both stood up. Hijikata wondered when they reached that level of nonverbal communication. Chizuru wiped her eyes, but her tears didn't stop. He knew they wouldn't.

【新選組】

Okita and Chizuru retreated to his room. He hardly had the strength to stand. It was astounding, really, how far the body can deteriorate from illness. Just yesterday, he was running a lap around the temple and sparring with Nagakura. Now…

Now he was holding the one woman who knew him inside and out while she cried, apologized, and hated herself for being unable to save him. That was not the fate he wanted for her.

"Chizuru-chan," he said as he ran his fingers up and down her back. He would never have been able to touch her like this before. Funny how he finally gets the chance, but it's too late. If 'funny' was even the right word for it. "Chizuru-chan, this doesn't change anything." Her arms were wrapped around him, and he felt her fingers twitch on the back of his shoulders. "I don't want you to go on with this hanging over you for the rest of your life."

"Please," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't say that to me, Okita-san. There is no 'rest of my life' without you in it."

Of course. Okita was the one who said this doesn't change anything, but it was Chizuru who actually meant those words. Even in the face of this darkness, this nightmare, this death that loomed over him, she wouldn't abandon him.

Ever.

【新選組】

For what felt like hours, Hijikata Toshizo stood there staring at the well. A practical man, he was typically seen as cold and analytical. Such things as childish fantasies about gods and spirits and demons were of no use to him. And yet, there he was scouring his brain for any fragment of memory that he could possibly recall about the God of Wishes.

He sensed a presence, but Hijikata didn't turn around. His instincts told him that someone was kneeling behind him a few feet away.

"Vice-Commander." The voice belonged to Yamazaki. Still, Hijikata did not turn from the well. "Yukimura-kun's wound does not seem to be severe. The same can be said for the rest of the First Division. Despite being overwhelmed today, they fought well and sustained few injuries."

"That is good to hear," said Hijikata. "Thank you for your report."

Yamazaki hesitated, probably wondering what Hijikata was doing out here by himself. "…Forgive me for overstepping my bounds, Vice-Commander, but the risk of heat stroke this time of year is quite high. This extended summer from leap year is taking its toll. It is not advisable for you to remain out here for too long in these conditions."

Still, Hijikata did not move. His unwavering gaze stayed on the well as if his eyes lacked the ability to even turn. "I appreciate your concern. If that is all."

Yamazaki could read the atmosphere. He didn't press the Vice-Commander any further. As silently as he'd arrived, he disappeared back into the temple.

Hijikata sat down on his knees in front of the well. The heat was stifling, though, that much was true. Leap years always tended to have worse summers in these parts, and—

A jolt shot through him, and his eyes widened. "It can't be," he said. He sprang to his feet and crossed the short distance to the well. Hijikata placed his hands on the rim, gripping it tightly while he stared down at the still water below. "Where are you, spirit? Show yourself!"

His only answer was the silence. Had anyone stumbled outside toward the well at that moment, they'd have seen Hijikata frantically yelling at an empty well. The Vice-Commander cared not for appearances. He gripped the rim of the well even tighter and snarled out words laced with hatred.

"I don't know if you're a demon or a god or a figment of her imagination," he said darkly, "but you owe Souji. That sobbing girl in there kept her promise! It's a leap year, you rancid, mottled beast."

The water at the base of the well began to bubble. It was as if a sudden heat source beneath the water was heating it up to a boil.

"Twelve months is a year, right?" Hijikata snapped, uncaring that he was talking to an empty well. "This is the thirteenth month since then!"

【新選組】

Okita wasn't sure when he dozed off, but it was the second time in his life that he woke up with his illness mysteriously gone. The jolt of fear shot through his veins like ice, and he quickly checked to make sure Chizuru was still with him. Now fully awake, he registered her presence asleep in his lap. Exhaustion seemed to have gotten the best of them both.

He relaxed, but only for half a second, immediately tensing up again when he realized that yes, somehow his illness was still gone. Something happened. Someone must have—

Chizuru shifted in her sleep, and her eyes fluttered open. She rubbed her eyes and then looked up at Okita, blinking in confusion. "Okita-san…?"

"Chizuru-chan," he said. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept. It felt like a few minutes, but it could have been hours. The sun was no indication. "Did you do anything while I was asleep?"

Her confusion was adorable. "Eh?"

Okita bit back a smile. "I feel healthy again."

It took a couple seconds for that to process, but when it did, her face lit up with joy. She quickly rose up and put her hands on his shoulders. "Really? Truly, Okita-san?" She raised one hand up to hold his forehead while she checked him for a fever despite having asked if he was serious.

"Yes, Chizuru-chan," he said, amused. "Though I'm pretty sure I told you to call me Souji when you got your voice—" he cut himself off, and his smile quickly faded. If Chizuru was speaking, and her surprise was genuine—that meant she really didn't have anything to do with his recovery this time. Then who…?

That fear returned, washing over him like a tidal wave. His first thought was of Kondou. If Kondou sacrificed something to cure Okita's illness—

"Chizuru-chan, I need you to get up," he said, as gently as he could manage to be in his panicked state.

Chizuru wasted no time in scrambling off of him. She was red in the face, but she understood the reason why he was so frantic. "Do you think Kondou-san or Hijikata-san might have—"

"That's what I'm afraid of," he confessed. He took Chizuru's hand and led her outside his room. Now that his body was healed again, he felt his energy returning. It was too much of a strange jolt to go from healthy, to death bed, to healthy again in the same twenty-four hours. Okita was getting a little tired of fate fucking with him.

The first place they checked was Kondou's room, but the Commander wasn't there. With each passing room, Chizuru felt more and more worried. She was relieved that Okita was feeling better, that his illness was somehow gone again, but even she knew that nothing came without a price.

Okita didn't announce his presence or anything before he shoved aside the door to the main hall. Kondou and Hijikata were seated there with calm expressions on their faces, though Kondou did look a little startled by the force Okita had used to enter the room.

"Kondou-san," Okita said, staring with shock. "Are you—did you—"

Kondou gave Okita a sympathetic smile. "How are you feeling, Souji?"

Okita rushed to his side. He sat down next to him, his fingers gripping the fabric of his green hakama tightly. "Tell me you didn't sacrifice something—Kondou-san—"

Hijikata scoffed and spoke in an annoyed tone. "Of course he didn't!" he snapped. "You're healthy because Chizuru upheld her end of the bargain."

Chizuru demurely stepped into the room when her name was spoken. She furrowed her brow in confusion and looked between Kondou and Hijikata, both of which appeared far too smug given the circumstances. "Um… Hijikata-san…?"

Something in Hijikata's gaze softened when he looked at Chizuru. He lifted his cup of tea to his lips for a short sip, collecting his thoughts, before he finally said, "It's a leap year, Chizuru. The twelve months are up."

The jolt that passed through both Chizuru and Okita was very much like the cold relief that washed over Hijikata a while before. Chizuru's knees gave out, and she slumped to the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she found her happiness to simply be too much to contain.

"Thank goodness," she murmured. "Oh, thank goodness…"

It was over. Okita couldn't believe it. Of all things, they'd managed to get over that stupid ordeal by a loophole. He was a hair's breadth away from losing his life to tuberculosis after all. And then, somehow, victory had been snatched from the jaws of defeat.

"Souji," Kondou said softly. He had a small smile on his face, apologetic, sincere. He gestured with his chin toward Chizuru, who was smiling and wiping at her tears and looking wonderfully relieved.

If he was being honest, Okita didn't understand Chizuru. He knew she was loyal, devoted, deeply in love, but what astounded him was that, of all her choices, she went with him. She picked him. Jaded, sarcastic, borderline psychotic Okita Souji. He'd considered himself a weapon for so long that he sometimes forgot he was even human.

Chizuru was a reminder of that. She always treated him as human. She was always there. Worrying, but never pitying, never disgusted or revolted or disappointed or worse, never tried to change him. He showed her flaws one after another and she just smiled and said, "Okay."

Good things didn't happen to people. They didn't, right? But… Chizuru happened. And Kondou happened. And… he guessed Hijikata happened, though that one he'd rather eat dirt than admit to. But those… those were good things.

Okita stood up and crossed the distance between Chizuru and himself. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

Hijikata made an amused sound and commented idly to Kondou, "I'm thinking about adding a sixth line to the Shinsengumi Rules and Regulations."

"Oh?" Kondou prompted.

"No deals with demons, gods, spirits, or supernatural entities of any kind."

While Kondou and Hijikata shared a chuckle over that, both trying to lighten the mood, Okita ran his fingers through Chizuru's hair. She was trying to get her happy tears under control, and he helped dry them a little. His mind was a bit unfocused, though. That prospect that he'd been so close to figuring out before was on the horizon once again.

That possibility, that option, that future that he'd nearly lost was suddenly there again, within his grasp. After having lost it so suddenly, wrenched from his fingertips by Chizuru nearly losing her bargain with the God of Wishes, Okita realized just how badly he actually wanted it.

Okita had dabbled with women a little before, but nothing was remotely long-term. No strings or feelings attached. Chizuru… the promise of what she could and would give to him was equal parts exhilarating and daunting.

Chizuru represented something that Okita never considered an option for himself. Never stopped to think he might want it someday. But now, his illness was gone, and there were no gods or catches or loopholes to hold him back and make him question things. It was just him and the remaining years on his lifespan that suddenly seemed higher than he dared count.

This feeling… was it hope? Excitement for a future that he never used to believe he had? He wasn't interested before, but now… if Chizuru was with him, he wouldn't be alone anymore. From the beating, the resentment, the abandonment, the brotherly friendship between Hijikata and Kondou—if loneliness was his true illness, then Chizuru was his true cure.

Is this what Kondou-san meant?

Chizuru finally got her tears under control. She pulled back enough from Okita that she could smile at him while still curled up in his lap. "I love you, Souji."

His head was a storm of endless questions, and Chizuru managed to wipe most of them away with a single sentence. Her words assuaged his fears, her touch eased his doubts, and her presence calmed his soul.

This was what Kondou had meant. Chizuru represented a different option for him, one with a future that he could spend truly living.

The backs of his eyes stung, so he closed them. His lips tugged upward in a smile that he couldn't hold back. He pulled Chizuru closer and pressed the side of his face against hers. Maybe it would take years for him to fully understand it or get accustomed to it—hell, maybe he never would. But in the meantime, he would try, and if he ever forgot, he knew Chizuru would be there to remind him.

For a man who was constantly at war with the world and with himself, Okita Souji finally felt at peace.

The End

【新選組】

TK: That's the end! My original outline was actually going to end the chapter right as Chizuru accidentally speaks, but in the end my perfectionist side preferred maintaining the 3x3 pattern for the chapter format. So lucky you guys, no cliffhanger! I actually started to depress myself a little bit in that A Loophole section. Yeesh.

At the time, Japan had a lunisolar calendar, so their leap year actually had like, an extra month rather than an extra day like a solar calendar. Lunisolar calendars are where we get the 'blue moon' expression from. It's not the color; it's the rarity :D I'm aware 1868 wasn't a leap year, but hey, it's fiction.

Anyways, I know it's a short story (so it's very rushed, and I apologize for that), but I hope you all still enjoyed it. As always, permanent copies of any of my stories are available on request. Be on the lookout for my next story which will be considerably longer than my usual works. See you there!

Today's topic: Angst

I don't mean just general angst or depressing content; what I'm talking about is a more realistic sense verses what keeps the story going. For example, Souji obviously has a lot of emotional issues, and his illness really only is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his problems. For today's topic, I'm concerned with how in depth to write emotional conflict such as that. Not just Souji, but also the heroine of the story.

Personally, I think angst is great. I love reading about characters suffering (as long as they climb back up eventually and become stronger for it). Because that's character development. But I don't like it when stories go overboard with it. If the entire story revolves around something depressing, then I'm gonna get depressed. It's become a bit clear to me that I seem to have a writing weakness in that I'll forsake depression/angst for the sake of story progression and preserving a 'happier' atmosphere, when it is technically unrealistic to do so.

I have to keep my readers/audience in mind, because in the end, it's you guys that I'm writing for. That anyone is writing for. When you write, you're targeting an audience, and I'm wondering what my audience (you guys) prefer here. I've been working with one of my readers to improve this aspect of my writing, but I'd like to know if more people are on the same page. That, and hopefully I've improved in writing angst of course, haha

Do you prefer stories with realistic angst or do you prefer to read some angst but have the characters move on and continue with the story progression?

Or do you just dislike angst in general? XD

A million thank yous to all of my amazing readers and reviewers. Your responses keep my chapters lengthy and updates swift :D