A/N: I would recommend to only read this after you had finished watching the whole anime OR had at least played one of the Hakuouki games. This story has no mention of rasetsu. Few scenes are possibly adapted from the game but remodelled to suit the story. Story mainly provides an insight into Okita Souji's POV and the whole thing is fluff, basically. This story has 3 parts.

Reviews, likes and follows are appreciated and welcomed.

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Okita Souji splayed out on the front porch of the Shinsengumi headquarters, his face bathing in the warm sunshine. Beneath his closed eyes, he could see bursts of patterns dancing across his vision. He predicted that it was something to do with the Sun and the light, but it was nothing he could prove. Perhaps a western doctor could. He was no doctor, he would not be able to say for certain.

Okita Souji was not your average person. He knew that. In a time like this, where war immobilised everyone around him, he revelled in it, thrived in the merciless unbending thought of slaying a person. In a way, to him, to wield a katana is a form of art, a very exquisite one at that. Only the truest of men could wield a katana well. Okita Souji relished the quick slash of the blade, the crimson red seeping out, the slow arch of a fallen body. It was a beautiful dance of life towards death.

He could not remember how many men had he killed, how many lives had he taken. He was not Hijikata-san or Heisuke, they remember the people they cut down, they harboured feelings of guilt within themselves. To Okita Souji, death was a natural occurrence, those who could not protect themselves were weak, they would have to make way for the strong. And he would put them on the right path towards the end destination if he was ordered so. He was not bound to the philosophical way of life as Hijikata-san, he was not able to feel remorse in him if Kondo-san were to instruct him to cut a person down. Not since his first kill.

If a day would ever arrive for him to cross swords with a stronger foe, even he would admit defeat. He was not as strong as he thought he was, and that it would only be fair that he would lose his life. He was not afraid of death, it was such a natural path. Death was always near at hand, gently twirling the string of his life in its fingers. Okita Souji was not naïve, he knew he had come close to death in many instances, but he would not shirk from it. He had always been prepared for the day when he would be embraced by the Shinigami*. But he admitted to himself, that he was a sore loser, he would not easily back down from a fight, regardless of how strong his enemies were. After all, where was the fun in that?

He opened his eyes and turned his gaze at the blue sky above him, not a single cloud in sight, his arm propping his head. The clear blue sky reminded him of his haori, of his purpose in Shinsengumi. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the crisp scent of fallen leaves pilling around him. It was one of the good days, where a whisper of breeze would gently stroke his skin amidst the warm sunshine. This year's autumn arrived unexpectedly early, he could only assume that winter would be the same, but that did not bother him. Winter never did. He turned his head to the side, shifting the arm under him. How beautiful it would be if the red, orange and gold leaves could be scattered across the blue sky, just like how they were fluttering in the breeze around him. It reminded him much of the scarlet red that bled through his blue haori, seeping through the thin fabric, often staining his skin before he washed it off.

Okita Souji was not your average person.

. . . . .

Yukimura Chizuru shuffled across the hallway of the headquarters, her feet bringing her towards the front porch. She turned her head to the side, eyes taking in the mess of the fallen leaves scattered on the grounds. It was going to take a lot of work for her to clean it up. She strengthened her resolve and increased her pace to the grounds.

The dry scent of autumn and subtle sweetness of Kinmokusei* wafted through the air. Chizuru inhaled the smell deeply. Many people were not fond of Kinmokusei's sweet perfume, but she took a liking for it. It was rare that in the age of war and destruction, that this scent still lingered in the air. It was as though the headquarters was a temple, where the air was cleanse and pure, uninhibited by the any impurities of the world. How ironic was it that the kuriko* was able to bloom well here, among all places in Japan.

Her feet brought her to the steps of the front porch before they faltered to a stop. The scene before her was a sight to behold. The bulk of leaves strewn on the grounds dumbfounded her. Chizuru knew that she had procrastinated from sweeping the leaves for a few days but to imagine this amount of fallen leaves…

With a shake of her head, she squared her shoulders and strode towards the tiny shed where they kept the brooms. This was no time to procrastinate, not anymore, she had to clean this mess up. Chizuru strolled across the grounds, hurrying, before all of a sudden, she felt a sharp tug on her hakama sleeve and she tumbled to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, prepared to embrace an excruciating fall.

But it never came. The ground was warm, and much gentler than she expected.

. . . . .

It wasn't as though Okita Souji wanted to mess around with Chizuru intentionally, it was her expressions that piqued his curiosity, that spurred his intentions. He wanted to know what made her smile, what made her blush, what made that defiant face to surface. He wanted to know everything. And as Souji was, whatever he wanted, he took.

It was that simple.

He justified his actions by allowing himself to believe that whatever he did, he did it to raise a reaction out of her, to quench his curiosity bubbling. Her innocence fascinated him, she was too gentle, too kind to a fault. It brought up a disarray of emotions within him, many which he could not, would not identify. The only one he knew he was certain of- interest.

It was not often that his interest in another person could last for such a long time, it messed with his rhythm, his thoughts. When he saw her strolling across the lawn, her eyes not registering on him, not aware of his presence, a burst of annoyance shot through him. He was half buried in fallen leaves, it made sense that with her blunted senses, as the unaware girl she was, he would have gone unnoticed. But it irked him. He wanted her attention.

If she did not notice him, then he would just take it, demand for it.

She was close enough to him, just a few more steps before she would be beside him. He stayed very still, wiping out his presence. A slow smirk spread across his face, he wondered what expression she would give, when he did what he would do.

. . . . .

She opened her eyes slowly, into slits. The first thing she saw was a pair of green eyes piercing through her, the gaze strong yet a comforting gentleness hidden deep within them. Her gaze travelled slightly downwards, where it paused as she registered a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

She could feel his breath on her skin.

That single thought crossed her mind and in an instant she froze, her eyes fixed at Okita-san right before her. Her thoughts were jumbled and incoherent, her mind registering on the warmth of his breath on her skin, the warmth of his body that seeped through her hakama. It paralysed her, froze her limbs, made her breath caught in her chest. Her heart thundered and all she did was stare at the face of the man before her.

"Nee, Chizuru-chan," Okita-san breathed.

His low voice reverberated in her mind, pulling her out of her daze. His voice has a slight lilt to it, a musical ring which she was very well aware of. Her gaze snapped back upwards to his eyes, his face arranged into a playful expression. His smirk was carved in his features and that only fuelled the chaotic emotions bubbling in her stomach. Her face burnt up as she realised the proximity of his face, his voice breathing on her, the image of his playful grin engraved in her mind.

"Are you going to stay atop me like this for much longer?" he asked.

His grin grew wider, a glint dancing in his eyes. It was then that her mind started working properly again, that she was lying… that the warmth that enveloped her was coming from… At that point before she could even form a coherent thought, her face heated up immensely. She was sure that her face radiated heat like a hot pan and it would be all too easy to fry tamagoyaki on her face. She moved her limbs, trying to scramble off Okita-san.

"I-I'm so sorry, Okita-san! I d-didn't mean to land, ah no, I mean, I should've gotten up-"

She was stammering, her limbs working to stand up, furiously ignoring the defined feeling of his toned chest against her, her gaze averted from him.

"-earlier…" she trailed off.

Her eyes widened. Her breath caught in her chest.

As much as she tried to stand up, she couldn't.

Because his grip had tightened around her waist.

. . . . .

Okita Souji relished the look on her face, when she first peeked through her half closed eyelids, probably expecting a painful fall, then her eyes snapping wide open in shock as she took him in, then quite possibly his favourite expression- the look of sheer embarrassment on her face when she realised what had happened, or who was right before her eyes. He loved the pale pink blush that swept across her ivory skin, the wide eyed surprise that was focused solely on him, the adorable awkwardness she emitted when tangled in unwanted attention. It only amplified her innocence, her naivety, something which he truly lacked.

Innocence and naivety was as far away from him as Heaven would be.

Her flushed cheeks spurred him on, his desire growing deep. He wanted to tease her more, to make sure that her thoughts were on him and only him. His demand for her attention was unquenchable. Nothing should fill her mind at this moment but the thought of him and him alone. He would make certain of it. And he knew the exact way of doing so.

He part whispered part breathed her name. It was strange to him, how her name seemed the sweetest when it crossed his tongue, how her name was the most natural word to voice, how exquisite the pleasure he received whenever he just said her name aloud. But as much as he loved the way her name sounds, right now, her reaction was priceless.

Her face and eyes were completely frozen before him. This was a rare sight that he seldom had the honour to admire. He raked in her reactions, his smirk growing deeper unintentionally. Chizuru-chan was fun to mess around with, her face was like an open book, easily readable, too expressive, everything he was not. It entertained him.

By now her face was so red that if he was not certain it was due to his action in making her so in the first place, he would have thought she had a fever. He wanted to see more of her… interesting reactions. He couldn't get enough of her, he wanted, needed to enforce her to have her thoughts swam about him the entire day. And so he decided that he would choose the precise words to make her squirm, to make her blush even deeper, to make himself entrenched in her mind for the next few hours, for the day.

Chizuru-chan felt soft against his body, her warmth comforting, her scent was of autumn and home-cooked food. Chizuru-chan felt good in his arms. He admitted that fact. He was no stranger to a woman's body but somehow, Chizuru-chan was different, she fitted perfectly against him. She generated a certain kind of warmth and gentleness that he had not experienced with other women. But all too soon, he felt a slight cool breeze against his chest.

He was not really paying attention to Chizuru-chan's stammering. Why should he when he could focus on something as precious as her flustered expression? He would be the only one who was privileged enough to witness this. He will ensure that. But this slight breeze against his skin, he did not welcome it. His chest ached at the chill, his back muscles flexed.

He did not like it at all.

Before he knew what he was doing, his arm had tightened its grip around her waist, drawing her body back tightly to his chest, chasing the chill away with the warmth of her body. Her body heat felt best against him. Okita Souji stared at the girl before him, her face conveying all sorts of emotions flickering from one to the next, too fast for him to read them.

She was entertaining.

Almost by reflex, his grip tightened even further, pinning her against his hard muscles. Somehow, deep within him, an overwhelmingly full emotion threatened to burst through. He did not understand it. All he knew in that second was that, this was possibly, the most entertaining, the most interesting time he had.

"O-Okita-san..? Do you th-think that maybe you c-could free your arms a little?"

Chizuru-chan's voice was incredibly soft, her expression painstakingly flustered. All Okita Souji could do at that moment was to give off a chuckle. Somehow, being with her like this wasn't at all bad. It was… incredibly nice. He should let her go, but he couldn't. Maybe just for today, he'll tease her a little more.

He gave off another chuckle and stared at Chizuru-chan on his chest. She had grown as still as a mouse, her eyes no longer looking at him, her head bowed down. He presumed that her gaze was somewhere off his body. This was Chizuru-chan he was referring to, she would not be able to bring herself to stare at him, he knew that.

But he was not satisfied with her hiding her face from him. He wanted the privilege to gaze at her face, to be the only person who would be able to see all these faces she was pulling, to experience all the emotions she was conveying. Maybe for today he would tease her, just a little more.

He reached for her cheek, his other arm still encircling her waist. At his touch, he could feel her body froze even more than before. He brought her face up before him, looking deep into her pale brown eyes. Chizuru-chan's eyes were opened so wide, he was sure that her soul was piercing right through him. He drew her face closer, inching the distance between them. He could smell her scent, he could feel the heat radiating off from her, he could feel her breath.

His heart had never pounded as fast as this before. Every breath was almost painful.

She was so close. So close to him. He drew her in until they were just millimetres apart, and he could feel her breath right against the small gap between them.

"Chizuru-chan…" he breathed, savouring the way her name sounded in his mouth, in that small gap.

He paused for a second or two, revelling in this overpowering sensation. He slowly guided his lips upwards and planted his lips gently, softly against her forehead. Just for less than a second, before he released her from his arms and leaned back, his lips curving up into a smirk again. This time, he wondered what expression she would make.

That was enough teasing for Chizuru-chan for the day.

. . . . .

Chizuru was certain that she had turned into stone. Her mind was blank except for the one insistent thought that Okita-san was caressing her cheek. All her mind registered was the feel of his rough callous palm against her skin, handling her as though she was something fragile. His palm was cool. Or perhaps it was her cheeks which were burning up that made it seemed that his hand was cool to the touch.

She doesn't know. She could not form a coherent thought in her mind anymore.

Okita-san's green eyes were brighter than usual, she could see herself reflected in his pupils. They were close, so close that she was sure that he could hear every thump of her heart beat. She needed to look away, to break eye contact with him, but she was paralysed in his arms. At this rate, her emotions would go haywire, they would…

And then he whispered her name.

His low tone sent a vibration of tremors down her spine. She shivered in his arm. Her chest squeezed painfully. His scent- a mixture of sweat, earth and autumn leaves- wafted towards her, obliterating her thoughts. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but him.

And he was pulling her closer to him, closing the distance between them. She could see every eyelash, every strand of his brown hair cascading over his eyes. His thumb was stroking, travelling on her cheek. Then it paused at the corner of her lips. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She parted her lips slightly, needing to gulp the fresh air through her mouth.

And her mind was so full of him. So full of this man.

Their breaths mingled in the small gap between their lips. This was too much for her, too much for her senses, her emotions, her heart. Everything ached in her, yet everything was burning in desire. Ever so slightly she tightened her grip on his hakama.

There was a short pause.

And it happened so quickly that she did not know what exactly happened. All she knew was that one moment, she was staring at the man before her, and the next moment, there was a gentle sensation on her forehead. A warm, soft press of something against her skin. It was brief, a few seconds at most, but it felt long, longer than anything she had ever known. His kiss on her forehead was a gentle flutter, so soft and brief that it felt like a feather's whisper brushing against her.

But even this made her heart throbbed.

Everything that happened after, she could not remember. The next thing she knew, she was staring at his eyes again. There was a playful glint in his piercing eyes, and… his trademark grin returned to his face.

Chizuru took a few more seconds to register her situation, before letting out a gasp. She could feel her face flush an even brighter shade of red, if it was possible so. Okita-san had… What she just felt on her forehead was his…

Her eyes travelled to his lopsided grin, pausing and remembering where they had last been. A wave of shiver ran through her spine again. She dropped her gaze from his face, staring at his hakama barely covering his chest, but her eyes were not really taking the sight in. Her mind was too full of thoughts.

What should she do next? What did that mean? Did that really happen?

A short rumble of chuckle cut short her thoughts. She flicked her head upwards to meet the gaze of Okita-san's. Even his eyes were filled with laughter and amusement.

"Nee, Chizuru-chan. I'm not opposed to you on me the entire day, but is this really okay if someone else catches you here?" asked Okita-san, his eyes full with mirth.

Chizuru let go a gasp and scrambled off him, this time successfully so, his arms weren't around her anymore. She stood before him, still as a statue, her gaze dropped to her feet. There was nothing she was so sure about than her face being bright red. Her heart was still pounding against her rib cage. But she had to say something, what had just happened was…

"O-Okita-san, a-about what just h-ha-happened… um…" she started.

"You make the best faces, Chizuru-chan. This was well worth my time," he replied, his voice teasing.

"Eh-?! Wh-what did you mean-"

"Ah, I'm late for patrol. Hijikata-san is going to be angry again," he replied.

Chizuru looked up, only to see Okita-san had started to walk away, his hakama swaying in the gentle breeze. What did he mean by that? She took a step after him, wanting to get an answer from him.

"O-Okita-san!" she cried.

But all he did was raise a hand towards her as he left, his strides too long and fast for her to catch up. Yet, she wondered if what the wind brought to her was what he had muttered, or if it was a figment of her mind.

"You'd better remember this the entire day."

. . . . .

つづけ

...To be continued

[1/3]

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[1] Shinigami (死神) is the God of Death in Japanese religion or culture. It is the equivalent of Grim's reaper in Western mythology. Many different versions and forms of the Sinigami are available, depending on different religions and mythologies. Almost every type of religion will have one form on 'Death', in this case with Japanese, it is Shinigami. Japanese mythology believes that Shinigami leads one to the road of death. In the Edo period, it is believed that the Shinigami is merely a spirit that possesses humans. It takes over a person's body and mind and leads the person to the road of death whether by suicide or by committing acts that leads towards death itself.

[2] Kinmokusei (金木犀) or less commonly referred to, kuriko (きゅうりこう), is a type of olive flower that blooms in the fall, which symbolises love and romance. It originated from China and was introduced in Japan during early Edo period, right around when the Shinesengumi was active. This flower was commonly used as toilet air freshener back during the Edo period, but the main reason as to why this flower was used in the story is because this flower could only bloom well under the conditions where the air is clean. As with the ongoing war causes pollution and dirt with fires burning across Kyoto, it is safe to say that when the plant blooms well, it is only because of the clean air surrounding it, which I thought would fit the purpose of Shinsengumi, reflecting on its 'holy-like' purpose.