Author's Note:

With thanks to many kind readers for reviews and encouragement here and on Tumblr. Your appreciation for chapter 59 made writing this chapter easier, although I still didn't find it easy.

Welcome to chapter 60. After dithering back and forth over Saitou and Chizuru's wedding night, and whether to politely fade to black in order to preserve the T-rating of this story, I decided to just write the chapter and see how it went. Since "how it went" crossed the line from fluff into smut (though not by much considering a lot of what I've seen on this site!), it needs an M rating. The full chapter is found below.

For those of you who remember that I promised two chapters "within a week", I want to let you know that it was all written by late yesterday afternoon. However, given my sleepy, cold-infused brain, I decided to have somebody read over some of it. Consequently, after getting a bit of sleep, and doing a bit of editing, you are getting this today instead!

Thank you to everyone for reading, favouriting and following! All reviews, comments and encouragement are appreciated!

~ImpracticalOni

Quote:

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves,
and not to twist them to fit our own image.
Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

-Thomas Merton

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

- Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love."

- William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Chapter 60 – The Wedding Night

[I] - Alone at Last

Saitō and Chizuru's guest rooms were on the first floor, in a wing of the house that neither had been in before. The house itself was built in a fairly typical L-shape, meaning that they would have seen the inner-facing side of this wing when they were in the back garden area that led toward the small woods. It was sobering to realize that the style and size of the house made it clear that it had been designed to accommodate a much larger family as well as important guests and visiting relatives.

Saitō slid open a panel with floor lamps to either side of it, and Chizuru was touched by the care that had been put into preparing such rooms for them, since it seemed likely that the wing as a whole was rarely used. They had obviously been given rooms considered appropriate to their stations within Oni society, and although their time together was limited, they stood hand-in-hand for several moments just staring around them at the elegant sitting area, lit with soft lamps and furnished with silk cushions and low, lacquered tables. Through the partially shuttered windows they could see that the storm still blew outside, though its first fury seemed to have abated.

The newly-married couple had not spoken since leaving the practical and political woes of the current situation behind them, physically as well as metaphorically. The silence was not uncomfortable; it was soothing, if anything, although perhaps a little shy.

Still hand in hand, they finally walked further into the room, so that they could make out other rooms beyond this one, through panels left deliberately ajar in order to let them know that there was a separate bedchamber with futons laid out for them, and a washing room with basins of water and folded linen hand-cloths and towels. Saitō turned to his new wife and laid his free hand on her cheek.

"It is all very impressive, but…" Then he smiled down at Chizuru and it was evident that the room had ceased to interest him very much. "Right now, I can't think of anything but holding you." His hand slid across her cheek and around behind her head, and then he kissed her. His other hand released hers and slid up to her waist, pulling her tightly against him.

The kiss went on for a very long time, and as lips and tongues met and tasted and explored, Chizuru felt her heartbeat accelerate and her breathing become more shallow. As before, it was alarming, and exhilarating and embarrassing all at once. She felt Saitō's hold on her become increasingly more crushing, so that despite all of the many, many folds of material between them, she could feel the heat and the hard muscles of his body pressing against her. She was beginning to feel as though her knees might buckle when Saitō suddenly ducked his head away from hers, his hands moving to grip her upper arms almost tightly enough to be painful. She blinked, and then tried to focus on him, bewildered.

"Hajime?" The name came out as a whisper.

He just shook his head at her, still looking down and away. A full minute passed while Chizuru attempted to clear her senses enough to understand what was wrong. It was a little like previous times when he had seemed very happy to be with her and then abruptly ill-at-ease with what he was doing.

After a second minute had passed, the aching grip on her arms eased and Saitō finally met her troubled eyes.

"Gomenasai… Chizuru, dear one. My self-control is contemptible when I am with you."

"But…"

"No, wait. Just… let me do this one thing right at least."

When she nodded, still uncomprehending, he sighed and scrubbed the back of one hand across his face. Then he drew a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and managed a half-smile.

"I never meant any of this to happen the way that it has. But you already know that."

"Yes. If you had gotten your way, we would have gone for occasional walks together and gotten to know each other at a more orderly pace. Eventually, after a suitable interval—perhaps a year or two—you might have kissed me. Instead of which…"

"Instead of which, here you are married—"

"—to the man I wanted to marry, which is more than most girls are allowed to do. Are you afraid that I will wake up tomorrow, or the day after that, or some day in the future, resentful that I was hurried down this path and driven into your arms?"

Even the wind howling outside seemed to pause for a moment as Saitō considered his answer. Then he nodded slowly.

"Yes. I do worry about… that. And other things. But you keep telling me that you want to be with me, no matter what. So that's just how it is. I just have to believe you."

Chizuru breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Then I feel like I've won something," she said, face brightening.

Saitō didn't answer. Instead, he was studying her hair and her kimono.

"My wife, I believe that you will need assistance with those clothes. I expect that we will find suitable places for this finery in the bedchamber. Shall we go?" He released her arms altogether and held out a somewhat imperative hand.

Chizuru felt a fluttering in the pit of her stomach and colour rushed into her cheeks again. Saitō appeared to be much calmer than she was now and also quite focused. With only the tiniest hesitation, she took the proffered hand.

"Yes, my husband." Chizuru was pleased to see Saitō's cheeks redden and his lips curve a little into another smile.

They went through into the room containing the futons, and Saitō closed the door behind them. As expected, the room was furnished with everything that they could need, and in fact the wardrobe held their own clothes, carefully folded or hanging, as appropriate.

Chizuru couldn't help but look around in some wonder at everything, much as she had in Osen-chan's dressing room. It emphasized that her cousin was, in fact, a princess. Surrounded by such luxury, Chizuru could almost bring herself to understand that Yukimura Chizuru, daughter of an Edo doctor and most recently something of a servant to the officers of the Shinsengumi, was of very high rank as well. And she was marrying – no, was married to – her prince. She turned to Saitō, her eyes shining.

What she saw on his face made her forget her fairy tales and brought back the nerve-wracking-but-exciting feeling in the pit of her stomach. For the first time since the wedding, she could sense him more clearly again and his mind was clear although his emotions were chaotic.

"I want you very much, Chizuru. I don't dare—haven't dared—tell you how much. It was inappropriate, and embarrassing, probably for both of us. But when you look at me like that, as if I am all you ever wanted, it's difficult to hold back. May I help you to undress now?" Saitō was already deftly unknotting the silk ties of his haori. A moment later, the beautiful, midnight-blue garment lay neatly across a rack.

Torn between nerves, and love, and wanting to be with him, Chizuru just nodded, holding her arms away from her sides so that the heavy obi could be untied. Saitō was immediately at her side, his own sash untied, and sash and sword already stored away. She wasn't quite sure how he had been able to do so much, so quickly, but it seemed unimportant. He stroked her cheek and then the side of her neck, stole a passionate kiss that she thought made her toes curl slightly, and then deftly untied the pretty, patterned obi. It was already put away when the bride discovered her husband standing in front of her with a hungry, burning expression that left no doubt as to his intentions.

"I will hang up your kimono in a moment," Saitō murmured softly into her ear, stooping to kiss her temple and then running the tip of his tongue along her ear. His strong hands had already slipped within her unfastened kimono and were skimming her sides and hips and back along the thin fabric of her light nagajuban (under-kimono). The overall sensation made her gasp. He had somehow managed to remove all of his own clothing except the hakama, and by the light of the single lamp in one corner of the bedroom, she found his lean, chiselled form to be breathtaking.

Almost involuntarily, Chizuru lifted one of her hands to his shoulder and the other to his chest, finding that the sensation of running her hand freely across the warmth and softness of his skin, itself taut over firm muscle and strong bone, made the blood rush through her veins to the point where she practically couldn't hear him when he next spoke:

"Now the kimono, dear one." She couldn't make out his face clearly, but she heard him swallow. "And then… we'll see."

As she stood there, lightly trembling and flushed from far more than just embarrassment, Saitō carefully lifted the heavy silk kimono from her shoulders, put it—somewhere—she truly didn't care at that point—and then came up behind her to remove the last of the pins and combs from her hair. It tumbled down past her shoulders in a soft, dark cascade that was still regrettably shorter than Saitō's beautiful indigo hair. She couldn't remember if she'd told him how much she liked his hair.

Saitō put his arms around her from behind, so that his left hand brushed the thin under-kimono along her belly and the other hand loosely gripped her left shoulder. She heard and felt him breathing into her hair, and his breaths were clearly shorter and more uneven than usual. He was aroused in mind, soul and body and she could feel or sense each one.

"Chizuru?" Dark, rough tones, but still with a clear thread of control.

"Y-yes… Hajime?"

"I… need to know. Whether I can take you to my bed now. I want to touch every part of you, I want to be with you, I just want you, so much. But if you cannot, if it is too soon… I will stop… I'll leave. I just need to know now, while some shred of reason remains."

Chizuru turned in his arms, and the vice-like grip allowed her to move. She laced her fingers into his hair and pressed a fervent, passionate kiss against his lips. Saitō's hands tightened in the folds of her nagajuban before sliding under the light material to pull her skin to skin with him against his chest. Chizuru felt her body react almost immediately to his touch and to the sensation of her breasts against his bare skin.

Chizuru! An almost desperate plea. I need to know!

Yes. Yes of course. Hajime. My husband, my lover. First and always.

With an inarticulate cry, Saitō stripped off the last of her clothing, and then his own. His hands, strong and calloused, but infinitely loving, caressed her small breasts, and traced her collarbones and her gently rounded hips. A moment later—how did he move like that?—he was pressing her down into one of the thick, soft futons. His weight on her, his mouth on her neck and shoulders and lips, it was the strangest bliss she'd ever felt. To touch his skin—to diffidently run her hands along his back and lightly perspiring flanks. It was a revelation to her, and a hundred half-remembered conversations suddenly made sense.

When his tongue began to push harder into her mouth, while his roughened hands gripped her hips and seemed to grind him against her, Chizuru was embarrassed to discover that no matter how hard she tried to just be there for him, her body moved of its own accord and small cries seemed to escape her lips. She also found that the next time one of his hands moved up to rub across the tip of a breast, her whole body moved, as though trying to get closer to him. It was an incredible feeling and she was a little overwhelmed by it. To anchor herself, she reached out to him with her mind, focussing on the one thing that she hadn't been quite brave enough ask about earlier.

I would like a child with you, she told him, in a dreamy voice that was slightly detached from all the sensation being processed by the rest of her. If that's alright… Only, I think it is very likely…

I know. I was warned. And I wish that I could keep you all to myself but… to create a child with you… That's a wonderful thing too. … Not long now, dear one… I can't, I can't wait…

Oh! So… what now?

The question struck Saitō as very funny, and he sat back slightly on his heels, breathing heavily and admiring his naked wife beneath him. He couldn't keep his hands from her skin, and especially her breasts. There was very little apprehension in her; mostly, he sensed desire, a kind of wondering curiosity, and complete trust. If he had been capable of any more strong emotion just then, that last would have terrified him.

He shifted down further, and she continued to watch him from under her lashes. One of his hands moved lower, from tracing circles on her belly to brushing the length of the soft, slightly damp place where her legs met. Her eyes opened fully for a long moment and he could tell that she was less confident now, with the terrible (or possibly wonderful) moment truly upon her. He wished—not for the first time that night—that he were a more experienced lover, but he would have to do the best that he could.

He moved the pad of his thumb down along the opening one more time, carefully attuned to what pleased his wife best. Her soft cries of surprise and pleasure were as exciting as everything else, and he had been truthful when he had said that he was reaching the limit of his control. With somewhat desperate concentration, he slowly slid himself into her, unable to restrain a moan of pleasure at the feeling of her tightness around him. Then he couldn't easily go further forward, and he wished—how he wished—that she would not have to feel this pain.

It's alright, Hajime, please… just, don't wait too long… please…

He gasped, as she raised her hips slightly against him and his over-sensitized nerves and body pleaded for release. I am sorry Chizuru, I am sorry, but thank you thank you… With a slightly wild cry, he drove himself into her, heart bleeding as he sensed her pain. Blinding sensation cascaded over him, so that he lost track of everything else but Chizuru, it seemed: Chizuru and overwhelming pleasure and relief and frightening, absolute loss of control. My gift to you, my dear one, my heart… to be completely undone like this…

To his great surprise, as he shuddered through his final release, he felt a small hand tangle in his sweat-soaked hair and pull him down, so that their bruised lips met and their tongues explored each other's mouths once again. The rounded hips below him were rising to meet him and he sensed no pain from Chizuru, only confident joy. His final cry found a quieter echo in hers, and he waited for her tremors to slow and finally stop before reluctantly disentangling himself so that he would not collapse on top of her.

They lay together for some time like that, side by side, bodies touching here and there. Finally, after drawing a long breath and noting that the frantic racing of his heart had mostly slowed, Saito propped his head up on one elbow and placed a rather shy hand on his wife's shoulder. Not surprisingly, perhaps, they were both rather nervous.

"I… do not have the proper words," he said awkwardly. "And, I hurt you… I am sorry…"

Her hand caught his and moved it to her lips.

"Please don't be sorry, Hajime. I'm very well," Chizuru reassured him softly, although she was blushing again. It would take time and effort to get used to being seen like this, even by her husband, and she could feel his gaze on her body again. It took an effort not to curl up, or turn away, or reach for the covers. Instead she continued:

"Right now, with you, I'm happy. And the pain didn't last at all." The last part was the absolute truth. It had hurt—more than she'd expected—and then the pain had been gone almost immediately, to be replaced by completely different sensations altogether. It was an aspect of Oni healing that she hadn't thought to ask about. She doubted she would have managed to ask even if she'd thought of it.

Experimentally, Saitō hooked a leg over hers so that they could be closer; it seemed to be acceptable, or at least not uncomfortable, for her. When Chizuru had finished kissing his fingers, he reclaimed his hand and brushed several tendrils of dark hair out of her face. Then, very cautiously, he moved his hand over her body again, just because he finally, finally could. He knew that his face was flushed, and he knew that he wasn't yet as good as he should be for her, but the embarrassment simply had to be ignored while he did his best to improve; in any event, it was negligible compared to the overwhelming sense of physical and also emotional satisfaction.

It dawned on Saitō, as his hand continued to move across Chizuru's body, that he was very grateful that she allowed him to read her thoughts and feelings. It helped a great deal to know that she had gotten some pleasure from him earlier—that it hadn't been all one-sided. He was still a little shaken by how difficult it had been to focus beyond his own pressing desire; once again, he assumed—or he hoped—that he would manage better with time. He had some doubts on that, though; even experienced, competent men seemed to make foolish mistakes when it came to passionate love.

"Hajime?"

Saitō instantly stilled his hand, which had been lingering on the soft area of Chizuru's lower belly. He was acutely embarrassed at being caught enthralled by her skin, as well by the area that now lay just an inch or two away from his exploring fingers. Unconsciously biting at his lower lip—an extraordinary sight that made Chizuru almost want to giggle—he met his lover's eyes inquiringly.

"I don't mind sharing your room with you, Hajime. I don't need much space."

This time it was Saitō who was slightly amused.

"You would rather come back to the compound with me than have all of this? Assuming that Kondō-san would even give you permission… I think that you might be better off here, now. Especially if…" He hesitated, but finally finished his sentence: "Especially if you are with child."

With wholly unfeigned apprehension, Chizuru moved closer to him.

"Hajime… I will do whatever you say, but I'd be much happier, and I'd feel much safer, if we could live together…"

With some dismay, Saitō discovered that fatigue and undeniably important personal matters were not sufficient to distract him from the resurgent lust. He kissed the parted lips that were now invitingly close to his, and allowed his free hand to trail downward until his fingertips could caress the dark, curls that had captured his attention a few minutes before. He heard and felt Chizuru catch her breath in surprise, and her body moved slightly, pressing itself up into his hand. Saitō lifted his lips from hers and looked down at her. He received the same luminous, trusting, passionate look as he had seen before and it was as if she had touched all of him at once.

"I think," he murmured against her mouth, as his calloused, but still gentle, fingers started to explore her further, "that we should pay attention to other things right now."

As far as he could tell, Chizuru's body seemed to agree with him. In her mind and on her lips all he heard was his name. With rare recklessness, Saitō abandoned all thought of planning for the future in favour of the welcome duty of learning his wife's body in the present.

[II] - Should He Stay or Should He Go Now?

There had been a short, tense silence after Saitō and Chizuru had left. Fortunately, two things had happened that cut matters shorter than might otherwise have been the case: first, Kichirō had asked politely, but firmly, for somebody to explain to him properly who Sakurai-sama was and where he had come from; and second, Sen had fallen into a deep and entirely unfeigned faint half-way through trying to give Kichirō some kind of answer.

Chiharu had not bothered to either hush or answer her brother. Instead she had been quietly watching the Shinsengumi—Hijikata-san in particular—and Amagiri debate the matter of Amagiri's departure. What impressed her about the debate was how little they spoke. To her credit, the way she reconstructed the argument, based on close observation of one older and two younger brothers over many years, was reasonably accurate.

Amagiri: [Eyes down; lips tight; jaws set] I'm going now because every moment I waste is a moment that Kazama-sama will hold against me. You know that he will be very angry. I would prefer to do what I can to avoid the worst.

Hijikata: [Eyes narrowed, aimed directly at Amagiri with laser-like intensity; lips tight; jaws set] You're an idiot. You're exhausted; you've spent close to five days awake and used up a lot of whatever you Oni call magic power, and you need to sleep. Now you're going to expend more power—that you might not even have—and arrive in front of a temperamental and violent lord with very bad news. Even four hours rest would make a big difference to your ability to handle things properly. Don't make Harada and I take you on. It'll be embarrassing for everyone.

Harada: [Possibly wondering whether he could just go home now, since the wedding is over and he wasn't likely to get another chance to flirt with Osen-chan] Just let me know what you need, Hijikata-san.

Just as it was beginning to look to Chiharu that Amagiri was seriously contemplating taking on the two Shinsengumi, Sen had given a brief cry and collapsed. Kimigiku and Chiharu had immediately looked the girl over, but had been unable to find anything wrong, which made them immediately suspect Suzuka-gozen. Eventually, Kimigiku (carrying Sen), Chiharu and Kichirō had all gone up to their rooms. Kichirō had made a point of politely asking Hijikata-san whether he might pay a call on him the next day. He'd gotten a thoughtful look, but no answer.

The three remaining guests had then broken their near-silence to debate the main point out loud. Hijikata had opened with a rather strange proposal, however:

"Just give it an hour. Less than an hour if I've read things right—though the gods only know, with Saitō. He may decide that a short lesson on the history of swords is a fine way to woo a virgin bride."

Harada stared at him. "Vice Commander?" he asked uncertainly.

"An hour is too much," Amagiri protested. "I need to leave now. Explain quickly if you can."

Given the absence of any potentially innocent ears, Hijikata decided to be blunt.

"Every time—that I'm aware of—that Saitō and Yukimura have been physically involved with each other the general recovery of those around them—whether it's a matter of injuries or exhaustion—has been too good to be true. It's bizarre but I'm sure I'm correct. I'm betting they'll exchange more than lover's kisses tonight, what do you think?"

"Heh – yes, definitely," agreed Harada. It was hard not to remember how they had looked at each other.

"Mmm." Amagiri's eyes were hooded.

"You don't want to fight us, Amagiri-san," said Harada persuasively. "And I know that I don't want to fight you. Give it an hour. Probably less."

The tall Oni shifted restlessly, which was unusual for him.

"As you wish," he said at last. "I will remain either one hour or until there is some kind of mystical improvement to my health."

"Good." Hijikata immediately turned to Harada. "We'll let Amagiri-san rest, or meditate or whatever. We have to decide what to tell Kondō-san."

"Huh. Yeah."

Hijikata led Harada over to the other side of the room, as Amagiri returned to his meditations.

"I don't normally do this," Hijikata said to Harada in a low voice. "But I think… we're going to have to lie."

Harada nodded. "And you know I'm the worst liar in Kyoto. So, what's the pitch?"

"Do you think Sen-hime would mind being portrayed as a somewhat tyrannical and spoiled young noblewoman?"

The Tenth Division Captain laughed. "No, I'm sure she wouldn't. In fact, I'm sure she'll be happy to help."

[III] - Always a Watcher

Not very far from Kyoto, in a small but nicely-appointed villa, a very beautiful woman with golden-amber eyes sat watching what should no doubt have been a very private moment for two young lovers. Had she felt any need to explain herself, which she didn't, the Lady Suzuka would have pointed out that she had only one point to verify, and no interest at all in the mechanics of an act with which she had been familiar for centuries. Although - she almost certainly would have added - in this case the principals were at least reasonably attractive, especially the young Sakurai. Frankly, she was pleased that he was living up to her expectations.

Some time passed, and then a satisfied smile illuminated the nearly-perfect features.

"Exactly as hoped. Well done. Hmm... It is good to finally see everything working out. But now..."

Waving one shapely hand through the air, she dismissed the farseeing magic that she had been using and crossed over to a low wooden bed. A western contraption, but comfortable enough.

A moment later, her eyes closed, her breathing slowed to almost nothing, body went quite still.

[END]

A/Note: And now that they are duly wedded and bedded, as the old saying used to go, we can get on with other things... Poor Amagiri.