"It's getting dark. Time we headed home, Chizuru."

"Yes, Saitou-san!"

Indeed, the day was beginning to turn old. The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the Kyoto sky a brilliant marble of oranges, pinks and yellows. The town was bathed in its last warming rays as the moon faintly made her presence known, marking the end of the Shinsengumi's day patrol. It had been another uneventful day without any news of her father anywhere but Chizuru refused to give up. She ventured out with the Shinsengumi captains on patrol everyday with just a spark of hope that she would catch a glimpse of him in the sea of faces or a mention of his name among the chattering people. He had to be out there somewhere and she was sure she would be reunited with him some time or other.

As the young girl followed closely behind Saitou – whom she had accompanied for today's patrol – she silently observed the townsfolk bustling around to get back to their houses and get settled for the night. Mothers called for their children who hurriedly wished their friends goodbye and promised each other another day of fun tomorrow. Peddlers packed up their wares and tidied up after themselves, eager for a hot meal when they returned home to their families. Likewise, the Shinsengumi third division members were wistfully discussing what would be for dinner that night. Chizuru vaguely recalled that it was Okita and Harada's turns to cook today. She hoped the vegetables would not be too salty again. Harada also tended to be a bit clumsy with cooking – she doubted anybody forgot about the tofu incident and she smiled a little ruefully at the memory.

Their group rounded a corner, still a good ten minutes' walk to their headquarters. Nagakura's division, which had been the other division dispatched for the day's afternoon patrol along with Saitou's, would probably reach there first since their patrol area was closer to the headquarters. Chizuru longed to get back soon as her feet were crying out for rest after a few hours of walking on the hard, packed ground.

After dinner, she would help whoever was on duty to clean the dishes as usual. She liked it if it was Heisuke or Nagakura; the things they said and their little antics would always make her laugh. Dish washing with Souji however, was usually a very flustering affair. He would find all sorts of ways to tease her and would occasionally splash dish water at her and claim that his hand had slipped. She didn't mind Saitou's company either though. Ever the efficient worker, she and Saitou would work methodically with her breaking the silence to strike up a short conversation now and again. For the most part, they would work in companionable silence.

Then after that, when everyone was winding down from the day and it was late enough that most of the temple's occupants were in bed or already fast asleep, she would bring a cup of steaming hot tea over to Hijikata's room. The Demon Vice-Commander – as he was so often called – worked late nights reviewing Shinsengumi's affairs and managing everything in the background. She brought him tea because she knew just as well as anyone else did that Hijikata Toshizou would never give himself a break so someone would always have to force one on him or he'd have run himself to the ground ages ago. More often than not, he would ask her to stay with him for a while and she would – secretly very much pleased.

They would talk quietly, as if both of them were afraid of disrupting the quiet of the night with their voices. Their topics could be anything under the sun – from Souji's many wrongdoings to Yamazaki's secret gardening hobby (which everyone knew about – only he thought it was still a secret) to how beautiful the cherry blossoms were last spring and even the peculiar looking owl that would frequent their headquarters at night, hooting softly and hunting for mice.

He had even on one occasion, mumbling embarrassedly and blushing like she had never seen anyone blush before, allowed her to read through his haiku collection book. After assuring him numerous times that she would not repeat the contents of the book to anyone, he handed her the hand-bound sheaf of slightly yellowed paper. As her eyes skimmed through the kanji written in his elegant hand with sweeping strokes, she couldn't help but notice Hijikata fidgeting nervously.

Here was the man who was known as the fearsome Demon of the Shinsengumi, Vice-Commander of the ronin organisation and the man who would stand and face a full-blooded oni in combat without batting an eye. This same man now sat before her, fisting his hakama in hands uneasily, awaiting her opinion. At last she had shut the book and offered it back to him with a smile, proclaiming that she liked his haiku and hoped that he would continue to write more. It was no astounding work of art like Bashou or Buson but she could feel his passion for the art through the words written in his warm hand. It spoke to her and drew her in – these words that Hijikata had chosen to convey his meaning. And seeing him smiling back at her was worth more than all the riches in the world.

Saitou and their company turned another corner to find the street utterly deserted. This was normal, as the townspeople had long since retreated to the warmth of their homes by now. But something about the air made the back of Chizuru's neck prickle and she shifted uncomfortably. Whatever it was, Saitou seemed to have sensed it as well if the tensing up of his shoulders and the swift hand to the hilt of his katana were anything to judge by. Without warning, he stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Chizuru to walk right into him. Behind them, the rest of the division grinded to a halt at their leader's sudden alertness.

The third division captain turned his head slowly, surveying their surroundings warily. "Be on your guard. We might not be as alone as we may think." His subordinates grunted in agreement, a quiet chorus of clinking metal sounded as every hand came to rest on their respective blades.

Chizuru uneasily fingered her own kodachi, her restlessness growing with each step. She didn't like this, she didn't like this at all. Every shadow in every alley now looked like a hiding place for an enemy to conceal himself. The lowering sun caused the shadows to elongate, only heightening her anxiety. She wanted to quicken her stride and get back to the safety of the headquarters as soon as possible. But she knew that that would not happen until Saitou was satisfied that their alarm was a false one. She prayed that it was.

They crept along, all eyes on the lookout in front, sides and behind, ever watchful of an assault. Every ear strained to pick up the slightest noise they could. Their senses were on high alert as they put a foot before the other as silently as they could, like a lioness' padded paw muffling the sound of her footfalls.

It should be no wonder then, her oni senses being the best suited for these kinds of situations, that Chizuru was the first to notice them when they sprung their trap. Her ears, sharper than any human's, heard the faintest rustling of clothes and drew her attention. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Saitou-san! Above!"

The third division captain snapped his head skywards at her warning – just in time to leap out the path of a katana as the arm that carried it slashed it through what was now empty air. The body the arm belonged to landed heavily on the ground, cursing at his miss. The sky above was suddenly blocked from view and they were cast in shadow as dozens of warriors leapt from their hiding places on the rooftops and fell upon them like savages.

Taken by surprise, several of Saitou's men were cut down in the initial attack. Most managed to save themselves but had suffered injuries. The Shinsengumi let out cries of rage for their fallen comrades, drawing their katana. There was a resounding clash of swords and the battle began.

Swords sang as their deadly blades cut through the air and rang out if blocked by another. The sickening sound of tearing flesh and gushing blood was heard if they struck home instead. Screams pierced the air, born of both pain and anger. Bodies began to fall – some dead and some alive, but grievously hurt. The remaining fighters stumbled over them and desperately tried to regain footing before their opponent could take advantage of their slip. It was utter turmoil.

Caught right in the middle of the ensuing bedlam, Chizuru had no idea what to do. She had been separated from Saitou and had lost sight of him in the confusion. She drew her own kodachi and the silver blade gleamed brightly in the light of the full moon. But she was afraid to use it. Would she have to kill? She didn't want to – she was no killer – but knew that she must if the situation called for it. Then again, she was no fighter either and knew that any one of the men present would be able to disarm her in seconds, a minute or two if she was lucky.

"Heh, who's this little brat? He's not wearing the Shinsengumi haori."

Chizuru spun around, kodachi at the ready, to face two of their ambushers. Blood streamed down their blades in rivulets and their faces were twisted into menacing sneers. Chizuru, trying to hide her panic, noted their clothing and deduced that they were Choushuu. Her grip on her weapon tightened.

"Don't know who he is. But he's still with them. I say we kill him."

"You're wasting your time on that runt?"

"Our orders were to leave none alive."

The first man grunted, walking away to find more opponents – Shinsengumi, Chizuru fearfully corrected – to kill. "Suit yourself. But hurry up; we don't want to stay too long and attract any unwanted attention." The second man grinned like a feral mountain lion, advancing toward her. "Don't worry, this runt will be dead before he can even blink!"

Chizuru gritted her teeth and gripped her kodachi harder, her knuckles showing stark white on her clammy skin. 'It's okay.' she told herself, repeating the words like a mantra. 'It's okay. As long as they don't get me in the heart, I'll be okay. It'll be okay.' She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself but it was quite difficult to do when there was a blood-thirsty man standing in front of her holding up a sword that dripped with the blood and gore of men she had just conversed with hours before. What if he beheaded her? Chizuru's mind was full of errant thoughts. She knew oni could heal from almost all mortal wounds save those that were dealt directly to their hearts, but could an oni recover from a beheading?

She wished Hijikata was here.

"Die, brat!"

Chizuru let out an involuntary shriek when the katana came at her with deadly speed, wielded by a master with malicious intentions. She darted out of the way just in time but as she heard the whistle of torn air when the blade narrowly missed her ear, her heart's beating became even more erratic. She was scared out of her mind. She wasn't meant to be here. She even wasn't meant to fight. Facing a living, breathing opponent who wanted to kill you was different from practising sword techniques on thin air.

Not expecting his target to be so agile, the large man stumbled. Chizuru, overcome by fear and reflexes, cut her sword in arc aiming for his shoulder. He regained his balance and dodged at the last second but the Shotsuren still managed to bite into the flesh of his bicep, drawing blood. The man stopped to stare at the weeping wound in disbelief, the sleeve of his brown kosode being steadily dyed red. He slowly turned back to her with such a livid expression twisting his face Chizuru couldn't help but quiver in fear. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth which was suddenly dry and she was having difficulty swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"You- You! Blasted runt, I'll- " The Choushuu soldier never got the chance to finish his sentence as the tip of a katana suddenly burst out of the centre of his chest in a spurt of red. His cry of pain turned to gurgles as blood escaped his mouth and he promptly fell to the ground. In his place, flicking his sword clean of blood, stood Hijikata.

"Surround them! Don't let even one escape!" the vice-commander barked over his shoulder. A cacophony of assenting voices responded and men in the trademark blue and white haori surged forward to surround the group of warriors, creating a human perimeter to trap the intruders. Somwhere, she could hear Heisuke's battle cry and Okita's taunting jabs as they made formation and charged. Dismayed, the Chousuu soldiers could only fight back harder but they were now vastly outnumbered. The Chousuu had underestimated them and were paying dearly for their mistake.

Right now though, Chizuru only had eyes for Hijikata. The mere sight of his face was enough for her entire being to be so flooded with relief she felt she was drowning in it. Her fingers finally slackened their strangling grip on the kodachi, very nearly dropping it as the blood rushed back into her numb hand. Her heartbeat was slowing down from its earlier high.

A sudden, warm weight on her shoulders made her look up into familiar violet eyes. "Chizuru, are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?"

A small, shaky smile and a nod were all she could muster. His touch on her shoulders were a comfort to her and the way his concern crept into his tone when he spoke to her made her heart flutter again.

"I-I'm fine," she said, finally forcing her shaky voice past the lump in her throat, "but Saitou-san…" Chizuru looked back into the thicket of fighting men. When the attack started, he had been right in the middle of the onslaught. Worryingly, the purple-haired man was now nowhere to be seen.

Hijikata gritted his teeth as he gripped her shoulder more firmly before releasing. "Stay here." He commanded. Before she could answer, he gave a roar like a mighty dragon and leapt into the fray.

Chizuru could only back into the shadows of an alley and watch helplessly as the battle wore on. Though few in number, the Choushuu infiltrators were proving to be formidable and not their everyday soldiers. Many of the Shinsengumi were being pushed back or injured and rendered unfit to fight. It fell to the captains to hold them off. From her clearer vantage point, Chizuru could now see Saitou was safe – at least, still alive – locked in combat with an enemy soldier. Okita and Heisuke were guarding one another's backs near the perimeter, preventing any escapees from fleeing. Harada, Nagakura and Kondou were engaged with the person who seemed to be their leader and five of his lackeys. Hijikata was also kept busy with two soldiers attacking him at the same time, looking for an opening. Even with two of them and only one of him, Hijikata had the upper hand and was steadily forcing them back.

A sudden movement to the right snatched her eye and caught her attention. She looked and what she saw made the adrenaline rush back through her blood like tidal waves.

One of the enemy soldiers guarding his captain had succeeded in breaking away from Nagakura. But instead of returning to his captain's side and reforming, he had broken away from the group entirely and was now rushing, sword raised, toward Hijikata whose back was exposed and vulnerable.

In that instant, all the flashed through Chizuru's mind was that Hijikata was in grave danger. Their enemy was quick to take advantage of any opening even if it was an underhanded move. They were desperate. Desperate to win. Desperate to survive. They were willing to do anything – even if it meant striking down a man whose back was turned.

Instead of everything seeming to slow down. Chizuru was suddenly able to appreciate her surroundings with a greater degree of clarity and speed. There was a collective yell of anger and alarm from the Shinsengumi captains as everyone saw their commander's would-be killer advance on his target – Hijikata, who spared a glance behind his shoulder; violet eyes widened in surprise at the coming danger before having to face forward again to defend himself from the two soldiers before him. He quickly decapitated one in a shower of red and tried to deal with the last one, their swords clashing in a pure ringing note, the owners pushing against the other with all their might. But anyone could see that his rear attacker was too close and coming too fast – unable to turn and guard from both attacks at the same time, Hijikata was caught.

No! thought Chizuru desperately, horrified, disbelievingly. No! No no no no!

In that instant, she realised that Hijikata was going to die. In that same instant, she realised that she did not want him to die. In that instant, she realised that his smile, his small chuckles when he was amused at something, his frowning face when he was concentrating on paperwork, the way his eyes glinted whenever he saw her and his tender voice when he spoke to her; it was all too important to her for her to lose. She realised a world without Hijikata… would not be a world at all. He was precious, so precious to her.

Chizuru did not want him to die.

In happened so quickly – one moment, she was looking at Hijikata in what would be his final moments, face growling in frustration, the eyes of his soon-to-be killer sharp and triumphant, Kondou's roars of anguish, Nagakura's bellows at Hijikata to move; none of them able to help him, caught in their own fights. The next moment, Chizuru was looking at a deadly sword head-on, there was a high wind about her; ruffling her clothes and playing with her suddenly white hair.

She would not let him die.

Hijikata was at his wit's end. There was enemy left in front of him but their swords were locked and moving away would leave himself open. Then there was that second assailant behind him and if he didn't do something fast, he wouldn't remain alive for very much longer.

Caught like a cornered fox, Hijikata pushed his katana against his opponent's with renewed vigour from rage and desperation hoping he could throw him off in time to defend from the rear attack. But the man before him merely grimaced and held his ground. Damn it! Damn it all to hell! I can't die – not here, not like this! Gnashing his teeth viciously, Hijikata turned his head at Kondou's yells and saw the charging warrior mere feet away from him. Too close, much too close. He wouldn't even have time to–

Out of nowhere, a figure in a pink hakamashita and white hakama appeared with their back to him, between him and imminent death. Snow-white hair tumbled in the breeze of motion, the red tie previously holding them up having fallen off. Both arms were extended to either side, as if protecting Hijikata.

Despite the drastic difference in hair colour, it was someone Hijikata would have recognised even in a crowd of thousands.

His eyes widened, pupils dilated in gut-wrenching horror.

"Ch- "

Something wet and warm splattered onto his haori, seeping through the layers of his clothing and touching his clammy, goose-bumped skin. Drops of crimson morbidly decorated his face and glided down his cheeks slowly. His cold skin felt like it was burning from their heat, but none of that mattered right now.

Chizuru gasped, one shaking hand reaching for the one that held the sword.

The sword that was now buried in her chest, impaling her body; right through her heart.

Pain, her world exploded with excruciating pain. It engulfed her like flames – inescapable, it tore away all thought until all she could think – comprehend – was the pain. Burning, burning – like ten thousand white-hot needles tearing away at her insides – cruelly chipping at her being, little by little – eclipsing everything –

A familiar voice reached her ears, from a place far away. A familiar face appeared from her memory; proud violet eyes and the ghost of a smile on a handsome visage.

No, not everything.

With that new resolve, Chizuru fought – fought against the pain that sought to master her. Against her own inevitable fate. The memory of her most precious person prevalent in her mind – numbing the fire, giving her the strength she needed. Bit by bit, she recovered her senses; becoming her own master once more.

Her vision focused. She saw the man in front of her, shock evident on his face, holding the sword that was stuck in her chest. The fire needles were coming from there. She heard screaming, mostly from voices she recognised. The taste of her own blood was like iron on her tongue and with every ragged breath came with a new wave of blinding pain. But Chizuru experienced all this only faintly. Like opening her eyes underwater, the details were blurred out of existence, senses were dulled and sound was muted to being almost inaudible.

As strands of white fluttered past her eyes, she belatedly realised her hair was loose – had she lost the tie? She had not noticed – and there was an odd prickling feeling on two points of her forehead. She was sure that if she were to look upon her reflection, she would find a pair of horns above once-brown eyes that were now amber.

It was her first time she had reverted to her true form. It would be her last.

Chizuru forced herself to ignore the pain and focus. The man who would be her killer was recovering from his surprise, angry that his attack on Hijikata had been foiled. She had to act. She could not let this man reach Hijikata.

With all the willpower she had in her, Chizuru seized the man's sword-arm in a vice-tight grip. It seemed to require all the effort in the world to even raise her arms but the thought of Hijikata coming to harm was more than enough of a motivation to ignore her body's dying, screaming protests; telling her to stop and just lay on the ground and curl into a ball. That this man had thought – dared – to try and take the life of Hijikata Toshizou made her overcome with rage and denial. She ignored the commands of her body, the blood flowing freely from her open chest, the unbearable agony that radiated from her torn, ruined heart and radiated though her veins like acid; ignored it because it was a small price to pay in exchange for the safety of the man she loved.

Chizuru tightened her hold on the man's arm even more as he tried to shake her off. Then, utilising the inhuman strength of her oni blood, wrenched it sideways as hard as she could and tore the man's right arm straight off his body.

He screamed, taking a stumbling step away from her as he clutched at the remaining, bloody stump of what remained of his arm with the other. His blood joined hers on the ground, staining the earth red. Before his first scream was over, Shotsuren was drawn from its scabbard and lodged in the man's throat.

The screams were cut off and replaced by wet gurgling. Wide, glassy eyes stared at Chizuru as she heaved, struggling for breath; their positions reversed now with her hand on her sword, taking away the life that was his. Limply, the man fell to the ground – the man who had tried to kill Hijikata – and moved no more.

Chizuru felt herself fading as well, her vision was clouded as if with tears, only she was not crying (was she?). The voices she heard moments ago were becoming fainter as if they were moving further away (or was it she who was moving away?). Her thoughts were jumbled and she could no longer tell from up to down or black from white. Somewhere, she dimly registered that blessedly familiar voice call her name.

The kodachi of the East Demon Clan clattered as it fell from her hand, her body falling along with it.

Hijikata was stunned. Chizuru had just defended him from certain death but at what cost? She had just killed a man. Sweet and gentle Chizuru had ripped off his arm with brute force and slayed him with her sword. But it was this one fact that stood out in his thoughts among all the others; nobody could survive a sword through the heart, not even an oni.

"Chizuru!" he shouted, as the blood-stained kodachi slipped from her hand and her amber eyes began to dull.

Hijikata, expression furious, turned back to his opponent and, with strength he did not know he had, put all his might behind his katana. His opponent's own katana shattered under the strain and its master's gut was slashed open before he could comprehend what had happened. Not stopping to check if his opponent was truly dead, Hijikata cast his sword aside and whipped around, skidding onto his knees just in time to catch Chizuru's sagging body before she hit the ground.

"Oi! Chizuru! Hey, answer me!"

Blood was gushed copiously from her wound, spreading through the fibres of her clothes and staining them red like a blooming flower. Her eyes were closed and body limp. She did not respond to his calls. Hijikata was in a state of panic – and for the first time in a long time, fear.

"Chizuru!"

Chizuru had the sensation of being underwater; there was a cacophony of sounds in her ears but she could not make them out. Her limbs felt heavy, as if each weighed a ton and it was becoming harder and harder to breathe. But the blinding pain she suffered earlier was now beginning to fade. That had to be a good thing didn't it?

She felt as if she was floating in a river, waterweeds clenched in her hand and keeping her anchored. To move forward, she would have to let go. But something kept her there. Something was compelling her to hold on tighter and to fight the current trying to snatch her away. But the currents were turning into rapids, and she struggled to keep her grip against the force dragging her under.

"Chizuru!"

It was a familiar voice. It was calling her. Its sound gave her the strength of will to pull herself above the dark waters and tighten her grip on reality. On a reality where her sluggish body was failing her, her chest lanced with dull pain and, as she found the strength to open her eyes, the sight of a man she loved with all her being. Alive and safe.

Her bloody lips cracked into a small smile. "Hi… jikata… san…"

Her voice to his ears was like balm to charred skin.

"Chizuru! Wait, don't move – I'll get Yamazaki to- "

"Hjikata… san…" she raised a hand to his face – or tried to. She lacked the strength. It was steadily seeping from her body and bringing in icy coldness in its wake. Hijikata grasped onto her hand, squeezing almost painfully.

"Damn it! I said don't move! Yamazaki! Get over here now! Yama- "

She continued as if there had been no interruption. "I… love you…"

That made him stop yelling and look into her eyes at last. She smiled the best she could through the fog of pain. "I love… Hiji… kata… san…" she confessed again, eyes beginning to blur from tears. From pain, fear or the overwhelming affection she felt for this man, she did not know.

Hijikata's face now assumed a pained smile rather than an angry expression. "Hey, you talk as if you're going to die. I don't remember giving you permission to die." He clutched her small body closer to his, even as he felt the warmth leave her. "Hey, at least have the decency to reply when I'm talking to you."

He had long tuned out their surroundings, not paying attention to the chaos that surrounded them. The clang of metal meeting metal, screams of dying men, blood seeping and staining the ground red- it all seemed so far away. As if they were in their own little world where nothing else could bother them.

Chizuru still smiled dully as she turned her face up at him, white hair fanning out on his arm. She couldn't be sure if was her vision failing her or the sweet illusion of death but she saw cherry blossoms floating down from the sky, floating gently down around them. From her lower position, it looked like Hijikata was bathing in a rain of soft cherry blossom petals. She was reminded forcefully of the day when she first met him, when she saw much the same image. Only it was different now – the man she had once feared was the one whose smile and kind words she had come to treasure. She smiled for him one last time. "Sorry…" she whispered. Then her eyes began to close. Her hand in his began to slacken. He could feel her slipping away.

"No. Chizuru, wake up! You can't sleep here – not now!" cried Hijikata desperately as he renewed his grip on her and tried shaking her. "Damn it! Are you listening to me?! You have unfinished business! Who's going to help Nagakura with the dishes tonight and make sure he doesn't break anything?! Who's going to wake up Heisuke tomorrow morning?! Who's going to make sure Sannan takes his medicine and eats properly?! And sweep the grounds, like you always do! And roast potatoes with us! And greet us everyday, when we come back from shifts! And bring me tea in the middle of the night and talk to me with that smile of yours and read the haiku I write – and – and –"

He paused in his tirade, bending low to hold on tight to the now lifeless corpse in his arms which once held the life of the person who saved his soul. But he could not save her. His body began shiver, wracked with restrained sobs.

As the last man fell, proving the Shinsengumi victorious once more, a broken cry made itself heard to the heavens above the darkening sky.

A/N: Just what is it with me and death fics? ._.

This was inspired by the song Haru no Katami by Chitose Hajime. I first came to know about it by watching Ayakashi years ago. It's basically a tragic love song where the singer sings to their lover, comparing their love to the beauty and ephemerality of cherry blossoms as (s)he dies in his/her arms. It reminded me of Chizuru's description of Hijikata having swirling cherry blossoms around him when they first met so I went with it.

I get the feeling this came out rather cheesy. Oh well. -bangs head-

- Kasumi

P.S.: This is the longest one-shot I have yet written. Twelve pages in Word. TWELVE FRICKIN' PAGES. :D