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25. Strangers
“So… you said your name was Kawakami Bansai?” Mutsu shifted uncomfortably in her chair, staring at the bobble-head man who had not stopped nodding since he had arrived aboard the Kaientai Flagship an hour ago. She was answered by a swifter, somehow more significant jerk of his head, but nothing more—the unheard beat drawing his chin back into a steady bobbing motion. She frowned and tapped her fingers nervously on the papers in front of her- staring at the endless inky lines. Inhale, exhale, inhale…. Her eyes shut, and she sucked the inside of her cheek between her teeth, chewing at it in irritation.
“Relax. I have nowhere to be.” A quiet suggestion that carried the weight of a demand.
Mutsu spread her fingers along the contract, tips curling into tense claws. “And be that as it may, our fleet needs the presence of its captain to operate.” She was lying through her teeth. “He’ll be here shortly.” If he knows what’s good for him. She glanced back up at the stoic man across from her, and was irked when she found his shaded gaze staring at her. What was with it with men and sunglasses?
It was even more unnerving when he removed the shades and set them out on the table, instead gazing at her with a pair of cool blue eyes. “Forgive me. Your name has slipped my mind…”
Maybe if you would have been listening… “Mutsu Ryoko. I am called Mutsu, and I am the first mate here…”
“And acting captain, it would appear.”
“Quite.” She snuffled and felt a headache coming on. Come on, you idiot. This is a big client… The clock ticked idly, each solid clicking of its internal gears adding to the throbbing in her head. Silent seconds stretched into unbearable minutes, and she found herself squirming again. What’s with this guy? He’s a freak… a freak with money though…. C’mon, say something. Anything. “So… what are you listening to?”
Curiously, Bansai lifted a finger to point at the oversized earphone on the side of his head. He considered her question, mulling it over for a few more agonizing seconds, before shaking his head in reply. “Nothing.”
“Oh.”….Nothing?… what the hell….Shit, come on, Tatsuma. I can’t take this anymore…
Her prayers were answered as the electronic shoji door slid open along it track, whooshing to announce the arrival of a very hung over Sakamoto Tatsuma. The bent figure staggered more than walked into the room, hands fastened to steady objects to compensate for the noodle-nature of his legs. His hair was unkempt, and his clothes were untidy—the perfect picture of a loser. The corners of her lips drooped back into their permanent crevasses, “Captain, this is Kawakami Bansai, representing Kiheitai. He is interested in our services… and has been waiting for you this past hour.”
Her words were met with a hazy blue stare, a wobbly frown. The teeth in her mouth began to grind… No…not worth it…. Just… let him be on his own… “Kawakami-san, this is Captain Sakamoto. I’ll leave you to it then.”
Bleary-eyed, Sakamoto watched as his first mate excused herself from the room. He pondered her absence briefly, and then went about pouring himself a pathetic ration of stale coffee from the morning’s pot, shaking the last few drops free from the spout. He sipped, and then spit it back out again, a deeper frown appearing on his lips. “So who are you then?”
“Kawakami Bansai. I am here representing Kiheitai. You should have received a letter announcing my intentions a week ago?...” The captain’s mood was infectious, and Bansai found his own lips forming a disgruntled pout. The captain was not listening.
He was pushing paper pouches of sugar around the table like little vehicles. There was a sudden collision, and then a pile up.
“As I was saying, you should have received a letter?”
No response. The captain’s eyes darted anxiously towards the door.
Sliding the earphones down around his neck, Bansai leaned forward, peering at the other man curiously. “Captain Sakamoto? Are you feeling all right?”
Sakamoto shifted impatiently, uncomfortably, still staring at the door. “Yes, yes. I think Mutsu mentioned a letter. She said you wanted batteries and possibly a ship- are you hungry?” He sat up a little straighter, flicking a short glance in his client’s direction.
“Oh- what? Yes- I mean no, I already ate. But we are in need of batteries, and then, if you could put us in touch with a dealership?.... Captain?....” Bansai trained his gaze towards the shoji screen, watching expectantly now.
Like clockwork, Sakamoto’s stomach growled, and then the door swished along its track, revealing a pretty girl with auburn hair and a genial smile. A full tray of food was resting in her arms. Bansai thought he spied the captain licking his lips. He chewed his lip and glanced at the girl once more, feeling that she was somehow very out of place. Silently, she set the tray on the table, bowed to each occupant in turn and then left.
“Thank you, Koda!...Ah, this is much better.” The captain pulled two plates off of the tray and slid one across to Bansai, filling his own with an assortment of treats. “Please, I insist that you eat,” a radiant grin burst out on his lips, “otherwise I’ll feel like an ass.” His fingers were attacking an orange peel, prying it loose… and then his mouth was pleasantly occupied with the juicy fruit. A trickle of sticky liquid began to drip down his chin.
In an effort to be polite, Bansai pulled a piece of toast from the tray and set it on his plate. It was hard to believe that this was Shinsuke’s old comrade. The two couldn’t have been more different. Perhaps if I mention Shinsuke…. “Takasugi sends his regards, by the way…”
A quarter of orange was suddenly shooting out of Sakamoto’s mouth past Bansai’s head, and then the man was leaping to his feet, hands beating down on the tabletop with such force that Bansai felt compelled to get up as well. His eyes were wide. Had that been a poor decision? Is this why Shinsuke refused to come?...
“Takasugi Shinsuke??? Short fellow? Dark shaggy hair?....”
Should he lie?... His ears felt naked without the giant muffs, and they felt uncharacteristically warm. “Yes. He sends his apologies.” Apologies for what, I’m not sure…
“That brat! What’s he apologizing for? And why didn’t he come himself?” The blaze in Sakamoto’s eyes was enthusiastic, and he started to laugh as he took his seat again, body leaning forward across the table to show his new interest. “So he made it out of the war? To tell the truth, I didn’t think he would! He was so tiny, not to mention lacked common sense! Ahahaha! Is he still with the others? Sakata Gintoki and Kotaro Katsura? Shouyou?”
Startled and confused by the character in front of him, Bansai sunk back in his seat, sitting back in an effort to free himself from the arresting gaze of the captain. “He does not talk about the war very much. He simply told me that you knew him, and that you had fought together at one point. Comrades?”Well, he described you in a more colorful vocabulary anyways …
Temperamental as the sea, Sakamoto settled into his chair, relaxed and relieved. His breath betrayed the extent of his emotions as they failed to guard the sigh that escaped. “Is that what he called us? Comrades?...” He laughed quietly, then smiled up at the ceiling, “That’s good. I would have thought…. But… you know, that doesn’t entirely sound like him.”
The mischief that was dripping in the captain’s voice made Bansai even more wary, and he continued to frown. He felt spiritually whiplashed from the mood changes… was this man crazy? The product of the war? Like Shinsuke? “I… I can’t say I follow you. What else would he have said?”
“If this is indeed the same Shinsuke, I would say he would have tagged me with something more along the lines of a traitorous cock-sucking mother fucker …. So… either you’re lying… or he was high-“ He jolted to a halt, and then grinned so wide that it was obscene. “And seeing as Takasugi can never actually be high- catch my meaning, hehe?- I’d say you’re lying…. Ahaha!! But you don’t have to confirm that, I know it’s true…. So! You came here for actual business, didn’t you?”
Bansai perked up, hopeful.
“Well, I’ll hammer out the details with you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to require your boss to come and actually sign the contract. I like to add a personal touch to what I do.” Sakamoto grinned.
Hot moonlit night- sweating- sighing…rubbing…Sighing again, Shinsuke stretched a little. Warm, white light… And then quiet… all except the steady pant of his breath as he drowsily opened his eyes to stare blankly into the warm cloth covering his eyes. His body began to relax again.
Sweet release… Hot, sticky night. He grimaced and began to lift his head away from the familiar smelling cloth…a whisper of hair tickling his nose as he pulled his head back. Was he lying on his side? It was a very long strand following his face across the sudden gap between his face and the rigid shoulder that had unknowingly been his pillow…. He snorted quietly, trying to blow the hair away from his upper lip…. Unsuccessful, he traced its dark arc with his gaze through the air to a pair of staring, disgruntled eyes…. Horrified, he jumped and found himself rolling into an abandoned space behind him. “Katsura!”
Frozen, Takasugi held his breath- waiting for retaliation, for ranting, for anything….
“Uuhhhh…. No… you do it…easy…”
Takasugi’s eyes widened, brow furrowed…
And then the other young man grunted softly and breathed out a throaty snore, smacking his lips after… snoring again. Those eyes were still wide open- still staring right at him, vacant. Realization dawned with one more loud snore and Shinsuke melted with relief, remembering their leader’s creepy habit. His body slowly came out of the curled position he had been holding. Frowning, he began checking to see who had seen the incident; first listening for Gintoki’s whistling breath, then tossing a quick look over his shoulder. “Tatsuma?....” The futon behind him was empty.
Sighing, he dropped his head back down to the rice pillow below- tried to shut his eyes and force himself back to sleep, but he was hot, wet, and sticky, and his pants were clinging. There was no sound of sleep-laughter pestering him to sleep… and hadn’t Sakamoto been there when he’d lain down earlier? He was sure he had been- laughing in his ear. So where was he now? He didn’t have sentry duty...His lips pursed.
For the second night in a row, sleep had evaded him. So, just as the night before, Sakamoto Tatsuma had brought himself outside to keep his own restlessness from infecting the others. With sixteen-year-old light-sleeper Shinsuke to one side and snoring Mitsumune at the other, he had realized that he was doing no one any good just lying awake in the dojo… the warm night was much more relaxing out in the open, surrounded only by grass and the stretch of sky overhead.
Sakamoto tapped his fingers against his chest as he stared up at the stars, counting them like sheep to try and tempt sleep to his eyes. They twinkled demurely against the heavenly backdrop, humble compared to the blinding moon hanging like an ostentatious pearl in the sky. It was heavy, and soaking the earth with its silver glow. He wanted to be up there… exploring, discovering, conquering...And then a few of those twinkling lights shifted, and he sucked in a breath. His heart began to race. Amanto…
And all at once he was painfully aware of the absence of every reassuring sound that should have been around him. The horrifying thump of his of his own beating heart blared in his ears, making his fingers twitch with paranoia towards the sword lying at his side. They closed around the hilt, and he slowly began to sit up. It was far too quiet. No chirping crickets. No scuttling of mice or rats… but something was moving.... He rolled up to his feet, and crouched behind a stone, scanning the area for the culprit…
He was therefore very surprised to see a young man steal across the grounds barely five meters away, and he let out a shout, springing out towards the intruder without any time to think.
Takasugi howled in protest, falling backwards in an effort to avoid the sudden slice of the blade. He ended up sprawled on the ground, chest heaving as rolled out of the path of another lethal jab. The cold metal pierced deeply into the dirt… “Tatsuma!”
The cry shook him out of his reverie, and Sakamoto froze in place, wild eyes widening in realization…. “Shin…suke?....” His hands dropped from the hilt of the sword, still stuck helplessly in the earth. Terrified, Sakamoto dropped down beside him, hurriedly tearing open the cotton kimono that clothed him, searching for wounds. “Gods… gods… oh gods….”
Squeaking in surprise, Takasugi squirmed, desperately grabbing at the hands that were tearing off his clothes. “Ack! Stop it! What are you---- Ah!” He jumped as a warm hand began to poke and prod his cold skin, unconcerned with his protests… He shoved his own hand against Tatsuma’s face, trying to shove him off. “Quit it! I’m fine!” His cheeks felt hot.
Jerking his head away, Sakamoto finally released him, satisfied with his search. He sat down with a heavy plop and sucked in a deep breath, cheeks and ears flushed. And suddenly he was hissing, his insides twisting with guilt. “What the hell are you doing out here?! You’re supposed to be inside sleeping! Not wandering around like a spy! You could have been killed!”
“W-What?!” Stuttering with disbelief, Takasugi sat up, tugging his kimono around himself in a haphazard attempt at decency. When it wouldn’t close properly, he gave up, starting to point an accusing finger at Sakamoto. “You could have killed me! What the hell are you doing out here on your own? You’re not on sentry duty!” The steely stare that replied made him swallow. His voice began to climb in pitch. “I don’t have to explain myself to you!......” He held his breath, chanced a glance and then scowled. “….. What?! I just wanted a bath! It’s hot!”
“What do you need a bath in the middle of the night for? It was hot last night too.” Sakamoto frowned, wiping his hand along the grass as he tried to steady his breathing. He watched the younger boy struggle to come up with an answer, and then looked down at his hand to see what so persistently stuck on it. He stiffened, and then glanced back at Takasugi who was busy trying very hard to look in every direction but his. “Oh…….. heheheh….” And without warning, his anger abated, and amusement dragged a smile to his face. “You should have said so.”
“And why the fuck would I tell you?!” The accusation was high pitched, and uncontrolled—a pubescent squeak broke up the expletive, and Sakamoto began to twitter with laughter.
“Calm down, ahaha…” He grinned and shook his head, wiping his hand along the grass again, trying harder to remove the substance from his fingers. “I just thought it would have been easier… Heh- so what were you dreaming about? Oh, wait, it was a dream… so I imagine she was shorter than you… That’s the nice thing about dreams- Anything can happen.”
“Which is why it’s the only time you get laid, asshole.”
“Oh ho ho!” Tatsuma felt a swell of pride as he looked at the bratty teenager, quite impressed with the quality of his comeback. He chuckled and clambered to his feet, offering down his clean hand to help him to his up… “Why don’t you go ahead and wash up then, and I’ll go get the sheets. We’ll have it all cleaned up before morning.” He pulled Takasugi to his feet, and ruffled his hair, a tired smile twinkling in his eyes. “This whole little mess can be our secret.”
Shinsuke snorted and pulled his head out from under the patronizing hand. “Whatever- you just don’t want anyone knowing that you were going to hack me into bits.” But he nodded, grudgingly.
And as the older boy turned to walk away, Takasugi finally managed to stammer out the piece of information that had him more embarrassed than anything else that night: “Oh, Tatsu….err…IthinkIalsogotitonzura….”
~Finis~
giggly
mellow014. Green
Recoil. Gag.
His insides were squirming and protesting, but nothing but a dry cough was leaving his mouth. A cold rag slapped against the back of his neck. He trembled. “Muutsuuu….” He moaned, gripping at the metal bowl of the cabin’s toilet. “Make it stop….”
The woman sighed as she knelt down at the side of her hunched captain, slowly mopping the rag around his neck, to his cheeks, to his forehead. “You’re a real shit head, you know that? I’m the one that’s pregnant…” She grumbled and slopped the rag back to his neck, squeezing it tight so that the cold water would drip down beneath his collar—down, down, down that long spine to the crack of his ass. She smirked.
He moaned unhappily again, dropping his cheek to the rim of the bowl, staring at the metallic and warped reflection of his own green face. “C’mon, Ryo- be nice to me… I feel like shit…”
“That’s because you’re a shit head. We already established that. Now suck it up before I give you something to really whine about.”
004. Insides
Sparkling eyes, cunning smile- I know that look all too well...
I can see you looking at me, like you know exactly what I’m thinking. Do you think you’re in my head?
I know I am.
Maybe you are. I would not be surprised after all these years… You know, maybe its time to... just accept it and… seal the deal.
Not in a million years. You’re nasty.
Ahaha. Bitch. Stop smiling like that. It could be…
…fun… yes, I know. But stupid on my part. A risk…
You like those. You like me. Admit it.
I’m not seriously considering this…
What’s to consider? Let’s just ….
Do it. I dare you.
Gun. Ahaha… You are wild, aren’t you?.. Still, let's do this.
…….
30. Death
November 15, 1867.
No warning. No familiar explosion of sound to tell them what was coming… just the normal chatter of a busy terminal. He had been laughing, turning to look back at her when it had happened. No sounds. Just the sight of him jerking hard into the wall behind them, going rigid with disbelief as a flower of red began to blossom along the sage green field of his gi. Another jerk-another bloom- and he began to slide down the wall.
Tatsuma!!
The crowd around them paused to gaze curiously, and then the air filled with a frenzied panic as a woman began to scream. Her voice. She dropped to the ground beside him, eyes wildly flashing towards his pained face—then towards the throngs of people swarming towards them- rushing in like a threatening wave. “Medic! Get a medic!” Desperate pleas turned into helpless begging as she felt him jerk in her arms, a sputtering cough yielding a splash of red on his lips. “Get a medic!”
Get a hold of yourself, Mutsu! Her hands shakily traveled to the wrap around her neck- tugging it free and placing it down over the wounds- pressing. He groaned. “Shhh… you’re going to be fine. Just relax.”
You can’t die, you idiot. You can’t… not here. Not now…
A siren wailed overhead. Lockdown. A whistle pierced through the din of frantic yelling, and officers flooded the scene.
Shinsengumi… Time ground to a stop and her heart beat hard in her ears… She swallowed and stared up into the dark eyes of the Vice-Commander Hijikata- her eyes betraying the distrust she felt. “Get us a fucking medic or his death is on your hands!
“Tatsuma, look at me…” her voice shook, and she swallowed again. The sting behind her eyes forcing her to take another long shaky breath.
A smile stretched across his lips, weak but reassuring. “Shh, Mutsu… You’re making me feel sick.” He shook with another cough. “A kiss might help…”
She scowled, bit her lip as it trembled. “Just shut up and relax, would you? You’re not going to die.”
An eternity stretched out before them until the paramedics finally arrived, rushing with a stretcher and their first aid kits… They lifted him from the security of her arms, and she hurried after them, wiping the wet surface of her hands along her uniform- red against blue.
082. If
It’s quiet in here. So quiet I can make out the sound of the lights over head- buzzing. Incessant. Irritating. My hands are still red, and the smears of blood on my pants make me look like I’m having an awkward period or I’ve been involved in a fight. Maybe that’s why that little girl and her mother are staring at me.
How long has he been in there? When did the doctor last come out? An hour? Two? It can’t be that bad…can it? He was even making jokes- asking for a kiss. I don’t think a kiss would have made that better… but…. But what if?...
No. He’s not going to die. He can’t die like this- not at the hands of those dogs… He has to grow old. With illegitimate children and a flock of grandchildren all coming to his funeral. And he has to be there when I die… because I can’t face this shit alone. I won’t.
God, I hate hospitals. I hate the smell, the nurses, the doctors, and those awful cots… the gowns… the waiting. Ugh. I feel sick. I shouldn’t have had that sake with him. I was lucky to have caught him at drink seven. He might have gone to thirty-three if I’d have let him- one for each year. Too old now. That’s what I told him… and he laughed… teased me as usual that I couldn’t make it without him.
I could… maybe… but I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. Makes my life a living hell…. Or maybe an adventure… It’s never been boring, anyways… Never. Should I pray? I don’t think it will help any…
Footsteps. The double doors swing open and I squint as some light from the ICU floods into my eyes, silhouetting a pair of figures.
“Mutsu Ryoko?”
I sit up a little straighter, red hands clutching the purple fabric around my knees. “I’m Mutsu…” Stay calm…. They don’t look happy. Please. Please…. Don’t be dying. Don’t be dead…. That “what if” is too much too handle, and yet, I don’t want to know the answer if it’s not what I want to hear…
They are too calm. Too tired looking. I grind my teeth and look down between my knees, the floor looking much blurrier than before.
discontent