Author's Note:

As promised, here is Part III of II of I Will Find You written for tumblr's KazaChi Week 2017 I hope that you enjoy my vision for Kazama and Chizuru and their future together.

Yes, this part is twice as long as the others and, well, I had to stop at some point, right?

~ImpracticalOni

Part III—Looking Homeward
Prompt: Reunion

Chizuru hurried away from the grove of cherry blossom trees. They were beautiful in the silvery light of the rising moon, appearing almost to shimmer as pale-pink petals drifted inexorably downward to lie in softly-scented swirls on the grass beneath.

She didn't know exactly where to go, of course, but she knew that Kazama-san would somehow know how to find her. She wanted to reach him before he came across the dark figure who sat—alive— underneath the tallest of the flowering trees, his swords at his side. More than that, she wanted to show the proud Oni who had brought her here that she could keep her promise. She owed it to him, of course, but that wasn't what drove her onward through the trees.

A flicker of moonlight on blond hair brought her to an abrupt halt. He had allowed her to see him, she knew, and was grateful for the consideration. She gave him a deep bow.

"You found him, I see," Kazama remarked coolly as she straightened, and Chizuru winced. She was covered in blood from head to toe, although she had washed her hands and face as well as she could. Most of it was Hijikata-san's.

"Kazama-san—I"—she was forced to stop when arms like steel bars folded around her and crushed the breath from her. After a few moments, Kazama loosened his hold enough that she could breathe again, more or less. Unprepared for such a reception, when she had expected reserve, frustration, even anger, Chizuru found herself at a loss. "Kazama-san," she began again.

"Are you free of them now?" Kazama interrupted.

Did he mean "them" or "him"? Chizuru wondered silently. Was it the Shinsengumi as a whole or just one particular man? But her connection to Kazama-san—whatever it was that had made him decide to show her even a part of his heart—was too new and vulnerable to risk over an answer that was the same either way.

"They are important to me," Chizuru told him quietly. Although she was speaking more or less into his chest—and it seemed unlikely that he would let her see his face just yet—she was certain he could hear her. Hearing, sight, smell—the Oni had many physical advantages over "mere humans". "For better or for worse, the Shinsengumi are a part of who I am. But I have now done all that I can for them."

"Hnh." Kazama made a noise partway between annoyance and (possibly) reluctant understanding. He removed his arms from around Chizuru and folded them across his chest, his expression unreadable.

"I've gotten blood on your coat—I'm sorry," said Chizuru rather inanely. She felt cold without Kazama-san's embrace, although the evening was moderately warm, for Ezo. She was aware that it was the uncertainty that made her shiver, not the temperature.

Kazama ignored the inconsequential remark and continued to stand in front of her unmoving, his eyes narrowed. The deep red gleamed softly in the dark.

"Humans are foolish creatures," he said at last. "They fight and they kill—today's battle was only the first day of the final slaughter—and for what? Power and wealth and bits and pieces of land. They spend their lives—waste their lives—in the pursuit of such things. After what you have seen today, how can you be in any doubt of their shallow pride and pitiful greed?"

It was the same old rhetoric, thought Chizuru. The same argument that they had been having for the past few months—years, even. She had come to know the steps of this dance very well. Kazama would criticize and she would get defensive and he would mock. It was time to stop.

"I am grieved by what I have seen today, Kazama-san," she admitted. She didn't try to conceal her anguish for the maimed and fallen. "It was worse than anything I have seen before. I hope to never see such a thing again."

His brows flew upward, as though her words had caught him off-guard. She waited for him to decide on a fitting reply to her acknowledgement of weakness, and braced herself for a lecture. Instead he uncrossed his arms and held out his hands, offering comfort. His features remained impassive, but the gesture was clear. Chizuru stepped forward and laid her head against the solid strength of his chest. She couldn't help a sigh of relief when his arms folded around her again, far more gently this time but just as—she searched for the right word—possessively.

"You did come to find me," Kazama acknowledged. "I assume that means you have chosen to move on."

"I told you that I would return to you, and stay with you… if that is still what you want," murmured Chizuru, suddenly overwhelmingly tired.

"You can be rather difficult, it's true." Chizuru stirred against him, but he continued inexorably. "And you make unsavoury… friends. Not to mention having a want of dignity that is unbecoming in—"

"A demon of my lineage," finished Chizuru, smiling slightly for the first time in days.

"He is alive, I presume. You are too stubborn to have allowed him to die."

The smile deserted Chizuru's face. She waited for Kazama-san to go on, knowing that this was one point on which he would not compromise. When he didn't speak, she sighed. "Hijikata-san is alive."

"He was badly wounded, though, it appears. Otherwise, you would have returned sooner and you would not be drenched in blood."

"Yes."

"His fury powers are failing him, aren't they? It is surprising that he has survived this long already. He's a fool for choosing to die for a lost cause, but somehow I don't see him hunting down innocents for blood."

"Yes. That is, you're right—about the blood." Chizuru felt tears sting her eyes—again—and again blinked them away. After all, Hijikata-san had said the same thing, more or less, once he had regained consciousness and discovered what she was doing.

He had been… annoyed… at the way in which she had saved his life. He wasn't going out of his way to die, he had told her acidly, but neither was he prepared to prolong his life by drinking the blood of "well-meaning but idiotic young women who never knew when to stop interfering." There had also been something about "not being some kind of fucking asshole who needs constant attention" and "how was the yellow-haired bastard anyway and why the hell had he brought Chizuru to a battlefield?" Chizuru sighed aloud, but remembering Hijikata-san's prosaic and utterly characteristic tirade—which had nearly provoked another fainting fit—helped her to force back the tears. As long as she didn't think about it too much.

"He was bleeding to death, wasn't he?" Without waiting for Chizuru's confirmation, Kazama swept on. "However, it would be unjust of me to believe that my own wife-to-be would be foolish enough to share her blood with a human. Especially when such a thing is considered a crime by the Oni."

Chizuru had been about to protest that she had lacked choices, but his final words stopped her cold. A crime? Despite a mind dulled by fatigue and heartache, she supposed it made sense: the concept was repugnant in itself, of course, but more than that, it was too reminiscent of the furies—perhaps even connected to them in some way.

"Chizuru… do you understand me?"

Chizuru pulled herself together and raised her head to meet the deep red eyes that seemed to blaze in the darkness above her. Kazama-san had always sounded so cold when speaking of anything connected to the furies but now his tone was intense rather than icy.

"Yes, Kazama-san. I understand." Don't give me the details and don't ever, ever do it again—that was what she heard in his voice and read in his eyes. She was grateful for his unexpected forbearance. Not that she'd had a choice, from her perspective, but she truly appreciated not having to deal with a second angry man that evening, especially when she could guess how disgusted he must feel. She had to wonder how they'd deal with the small detail about Hijikata-san being alive and a fury, though.

"You're exhausted. I hope that you'll be less prone to looking for trouble once we're married."

Chizuru fought the urge to giggle. It was very like him to express his concern so… aggressively.

"Yes, Kazama-san."

Her dutiful reply only caused the blond Oni to narrow his eyes at her suspiciously.

"We will leave tomorrow—tonight, if I can arrange it. There are still a small handful of craft being prepared by those who have waited until the last moment to flee. It means going northwest to Russia and then south again, but we'll manage."

There was a long silence. Kazama-san seemed to be deep in thought, although he continued to hold Chizuru close to him. There was something about his confidence in their still nebulous relationship that was reassuring. Chizuru finally forced herself to deliver the message that she'd promised—very unwillingly—to deliver.

"He said he'd be waiting for you." There was no need to say whom she meant.

Kazama scowled and looked back along the direction from which Chizuru had come. His next words surprised her so much that she found herself stumbling in her attempt to get a better look up at his face.

"Let him wait then."

"R-really?" Chizuru was stunned.

Kazama-san looked down at her no-doubt baffled expression and his lips twitched into a sardonic smile. Just like Hijikata-san's earlier, she thought irrepressibly, although she didn't say so.

"It would almost be worth it not to go just to make that man spend an uncomfortable night waiting for me to show up to slaughter him," he told her. "But of course, I could not go back on my word to eliminate the furies just for that. However, now that you have agreed—of your own free will and inclination—to marry me"—his eyes dared her to contradict him—"I cannot take the life that you have given him." He held her gaze, saw the doubt, and concluded with some impatience: "Regardless of how you managed the feat, that man owes you his life now. It would tarnish your honour if your husband were to kill him just a few hours later."

Strangely unnerved, Chizuru had to look away. She leaned her forehead against his chest and tried to allow the tension to drain from her tired body. "Thank you, Kazama-san."

"There is nothing to thank me for," Kazama snapped, although the way his hand rested on her hair gave the lie to his tone. "I am not pleased to be returning home without having done what I came for." He paused, and then added with (Chizuru felt) calculated smugness: "Although at least I finally got to hear you admit that you want to spend your life with me. Also"—the satisfaction in his voice became more pronounced—"I am quite sure that that man would prefer to die fighting me rather than have you save his life and then leave to marry me."

Chizuru winced. The thought had crossed her mind, but it sounded even worse when Kazama-san put it into words. His arms dropped from around her, but only so that he could take her face in his hands. He was looking at her seriously again.

"There are rarely perfect choices, Chizuru. However, I expect you to abide by your decisions—which includes letting go of your present guilt." He shook his head at her when she tried to protest, his hair almost white now that the moon had risen higher into the sky above them. "I did not say that you couldn't grieve. But there is nothing for you to feel guilty over. If you care for those men—for that man—as much as you say, then you must allow them to be responsible for their own actions."

Chizuru felt herself flinch at his words, and Kazama-san blew out a small puff of irritation, apparently reading her expression as easily as ever. Hijikata-san had told her almost exactly the same thing—though his tone and language had been somewhat rougher. On purpose, she thought, so that she would feel less pain at their parting. It hadn't worked.

"Well?" Kazama lowered his hands from her face to her shoulders. She tried not to look away.

"I will try not to feel guilty, Kazama-san." But she had left Hijikata-san alone and vulnerable under the cherry blossoms, healing but not yet strong enough to defend himself. Probably. Actually, it was difficult to say; she had once thought him invincible.

"I would prefer you to be thinking about me," Kazama said firmly.

For some reason, that brought her fully back to the present. Very tentatively, she placed her right hand over Kazama's. He registered mild surprise, but didn't move. The top of his hand was partially covered by his hand-guard, but his fingers were free, and she brushed her fingers along them with care, hoping that he would not disapprove. Chizuru admired his hands—they were strong but well-shaped and elegant, much like the rest of him. She felt a blush suffuse her cheeks, since she had perhaps seen more of him than was entirely proper. But there had been little she could do about that—they had lived together for some time in Sendai, while seeking passage to Ezo, and he preferred to wear a loose yukata indoors once they had eaten and taken up their evening pursuits. As meticulous as Kazama-san was with respect to his dress in public, he was entirely unabashed around Chizuru. Eventually, she had given up worrying about it and accepted him as he was. It had not been an entirely unpleasant arrangement, after all.

"Much better. I believe that I appreciate this particular expression very much."

The smugness was back, and Chizuru's flush deepened. She allowed her hand to fall sharply from Kazama's and tried to glare up at him. It wasn't entirely successful, as the image of him sitting on the windowsill of his room, one leg bent and bared to mid-thigh, persisted in her traitorous mind.

"I believe you were saying that we should leave immediately, Kazama-san," she said, as coolly as she was able.

"True," he acknowledged. "However, that was before you looked up at me in such a way." With superb grace, but too quickly to be avoided, he drew Chizuru against him once more, one hand cradling the back of her head and pulling her up into a warm—a very warm—kiss on the lips.

It went on for some time, as though Kazama-san had been waiting for just this moment and intended to take full advantage of it. Of course, he probably had, and did, thought Chizuru muzzily. It didn't matter. Nobody had ever kissed her before—although Heisuke-kun had tried once, in a fit of drunken gallantry that he had forgotten by the next day (or was too mortified to mention). But this! She had wondered what it might be like, had had her daydreams about this moment, and her imagination had not done it justice. She felt warmth spread along each limb, and an odd tightening in her lower gut that both embarrassed and intrigued her.

The kiss ended eventually, but only when Kazama-san drew away to allow her to catch her breath. Chizuru drew air into her lungs and reluctantly opened her eyes (although she didn't remember closing them). She waited for Kazama-san to speak first, since she was still sorting out so many feelings and impressions.

"I had hoped… how it might be."

Chizuru stared up at him without real comprehension. She had expected more self-satisfaction and less wonder.

"Kazama-san?"

The unusually soft expression immediately became something more remote, and Chizuru realized belatedly that he had been almost as caught up in sensation as she had been. She waited for him to reassert his superiority, but the expected slighting words didn't come.

"As much as you have fought it, disbelieved it and refused to come to terms with it, you can sense the kinship between us, Yukimura Chizuru, my wife-to-be. You are drawn to me, as I am to you."

Chizuru tested the words and found them to be true, despite the rather exasperating, lecturing tone he affected. For the sake of peace—and newfound pleasure—she didn't ask the obvious questions: if it had always been so clear-cut, then why had she been so drawn to Hijikata-san, almost from the moment that they had met? Why had she been so drawn to the Shinsengumi captains as a whole? There was no doubt in her mind that they had all been special to her, and somehow she had become important to them.

"I can't answer those questions," Kazama said abruptly, once again reading her thoughts from her face (although she was beginning to wonder if he could read her mind instead). "Perhaps there really was more to those"—Chizuru had to smile as she watched him bite off his usual epithets—"those stubborn, misguided humans than I thought." Reality finally returned, when he added. "Though it seems unlikely."

Internally, Chizuru sighed. She had no desire to continue their pointless debate about the Shinsengumi; Kazama-san had come all the way to Ezo for them, and that was enough to tell her that his own feelings were more complex than he admitted. More than anything, though, she wanted to kiss and touch the man she had chosen, and reaffirm that they were both alive and together and planning to stay that way.

"I am ready to go whenever you wish, Kazama-san." The words came out laden with fatigue and more frustration than she had intended.

"Chizuru…" For a moment it seemed that he hovered on the brink of an apology—or maybe anger, it was hard for her to tell—before compromising with: "I should have made more allowance for your fatigue, and the difficult day behind you."

Chizuru felt the tension start to seep out of her again. Those words would have been unthinkable for him even just a few weeks ago; this was his effort to be more considerate, and was far more than she'd hoped for when she'd begun to realize the change in her own heart. Also, maybe she needed to make more allowance for Kazama-san as well: she had left him that morning to seek out her first love, and he had known it and hadn't stopped her.

She felt the blood rise again in her cheeks as she raised her hands to Kazama-san's face, brushing her fingers along his lower jaw. She could only assume that he would understand, and not reject her gesture as overly-familiar or somehow inappropriate. Although she never determined exactly how he interpreted her action—whether as tacit apology, or an olive branch, or simply a demonstration of affection—she was left in no doubt as to how he felt about it. His eyes widened in surprise, but he barely hesitated before bringing his lips down again to hers.

This time Chizuru felt his tongue part her lips and explore her mouth, and it shocked her a little, to think that a person as innately fastidious as Kazama-san would do such a thing. That passed almost immediately, as sensation finally overrode clear thought. Her knees buckled—for whatever reason, although she doubted fatigue was uppermost—and she could hear nothing but the pounding of her own blood in her ears. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but she felt both keyed up and totally relaxed. It was as though the horrors of the morning, and the fears and frustrations of the afternoon and evening, were at least partly assuaged by sincere, intoxicating physical affection.

This time they parted by mutual accord, although Kazama kept an arm draped around her shoulders, his fingers tracing slow circles along the her neck and the base of her skull. Chizuru could feel slight tremors along her skin at so intimate a touch, and became conscious that she was humming slightly in the back of her throat. She immediately stopped, but it took an effort.

"It would be… unfortunate to be found here like this," Kazama commented, his beautiful, dark voice somehow echoing Chizuru's earlier humming and increasing her desire to return to what they had been doing, regardless of the two armies still out there in the darkness beyond them. "Especially by the person that you don't want me to kill. I must—reluctantly—give him enough credit to come looking for me if I don't turn up soon."

"Or maybe he will just accept your decision and stay where he is," murmured Chizuru. "I just hope that—" She caught herself and stopped. This was the wrong moment to be speaking of Hijikata-san.

Kazama shrugged, his movements as elegant as ever, although Chizuru thought that his rather pale skin still looked unusually flushed, and his eyes were bright gold rather than deep ruby. She wondered if he knew.

"If you are worried that he is going to wander off and get himself killed," said Kazama, his voice even deeper than usual, but not angry, "then you are—as usual—worrying needlessly. Either he is well enough not to be taken off-guard, in which case he will kill anyone foolish enough to challenge him—with one obvious exception, of course—or he is still unable to move, in which case he won't." He paused long enough to bend down to draw his tongue across one of Chizuru's ears, which startled her but left her heart racing. He then continued his analysis, as though nothing had happened.

"It is highly unlikely that he will be found tonight if he stays where he is, which I assume is your other concern. For one thing, we have heard no patrols in this area. For another, I can assure you that our present location is as far from either army as they would be willing to risk their men. Thirdly, you underestimate the instincts of our people, to which you are—finally—starting to pay attention. You wished to hide him from his enemies; therefore, he is likely in a safe location."

"But—" protested Chizuru feebly, still more than half-entranced by the fingers on her skin.

"Yes, but I am an Oni as well, and much better trained. You could not hide him from me, although I note that it took me some time to find you. Of course, I made sure to spend quite some time finding out about possible ways off this gods-forsaken island first."

"Oh," said Chizuru, silenced.

"As I said, though, it would be better not to be found here. I will take you to a place in Hakodate that I have borrowed from its absent occupants for our use. Then—"

"You've already been to Hakodate and back?"

"You still have a lot to learn about the ways in which we can travel. Stop interrupting."

"Yes, Kazama-san."

"We will go into Hakodate, and you will wait patiently for me while I either locate—or fail to locate—a boat to take us from here. If I am successful, then I expect that we will leave before first light. If not, we will try again the next day. If worse comes to worst, then I will arrange for us to leave when the last of the French officers are forced to abandon Ezo before Goryōkaku falls to the Imperial Army. I hope to avoid the last measure, however."

"I-I see, Kazama-san."

He smiled down at her—a genuine, if slightly predatory smile—and Chizuru saw points on the edges of his canines. The Oni is very close to the surface, she thought. Her shiver had little to do with fear, however.

"I hope that we can unearth some decent sake somewhere on this ridiculous rock of an island. We'll see."

Without warning, or further words, Kazama lifted Chizuru into his arms and started walking at a brisk pace away from where Hijikata-san still kept his lonely vigil under the cherry blossoms. Chizuru sent the Shinsengumi commander a mental farewell. He would most likely return to the fighting the next day, but he might not. It had seemed to her that—with the exception of dealing with Kazama-san—he was ready to lay aside his swords and take a more peaceful path, for however long he had left. She sighed and leaned her head against Kazama-san's shoulder. She had done what she could for the Shinsengumi. It was time to look toward the future.

[END]

A/Note: As always, comments and reviews are very much appreciated (and favourites as well!). Thank you for reading my first KazaChi fic.

~ ImpracticalOni