Dark Side of the Sun

:Chapter Six:

No more than three nights later, Hijikata received orders from what was presumably a man, though he was completely swathed in black, and not even his voice was a true giveaway. Immediately after delivering his message, he had dissolved into the waiting darkness, leaving Hijikata standing on the porch with a sick feeling in his gut.

“Let’s go; we don’t have any time to waste.”

Souji had been waiting just on the other side of the door, and watched with gleaming eyes as Hijikata slid his sword into his belt. The Vice-Commander noticed that Souji was completely unarmed, which at first struck him as odd, though he realized that Souji no longer needed a weapon; he was a weapon.

“We’re going to Yowamushi tea house to rendezvous with one of our own washerwomen. The ninja have witnessed her betraying us, passing information to the Choshuu. So…she needs to be disposed of.”

Beside him, Souji nodded solemnly. He already understood what it was that he needed to do, but he was still sulking about his demotion to a shiftless assassin, Hijikata suspected. He could read it in the Captain’s face.

***

It seemed like the street itself knew what was only moments away. The crickets and cicadas silenced their chirping, and no one traversed the wide dirt path. The red paper lamps over the doors of certain establishments glowed brightly, giving the deserted street an eerie air of sinister laughter and debauchery. It was something like poetry, though the sullen figure next to Hijikata only sought to remind him just what true debauchery might be, what it really meant to defile humanity.

The woman they were to meet suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps, under a sign that read ‘Yowamushi.’ Her arms were tucked inside the sleeves of her yukata, and folded across her chest. Did she really suspect nothing of them? Hijikata noticed movement to his right, and saw Souji force a smile and raise his hand in brief greeting.

“Sayako-chan, good evening”

“Good evening to you as well, Okita-san, and you, Hijikata-dono.”

Hijikata inclined his head politely, ever known for being less sociable than the man at his side. He was glad Souji could act, though. If Souji was serious, anyone would know something was amiss.

“Would you two like to join me inside?”

“Actually, Sayako-chan, I was hoping you would join me for a drink elsewhere.” There was a suggestive tone to Souji’s voice, Hijikata noticed, but it wasn’t the sort of suggestion the woman seemed to pick up on. She giggled behind her covered hand, and agreed.

Hijikata allowed himself to trail some feet behind the pair, listening with annoyance to the woman’s giggling over the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Any moment now…

Souji turned a corner which led to an alley, and looked over his shoulder at Hijikata when the Vice-Commander followed. It was a strange look, one that Hijikata had never seen before, but he knew exactly what it meant, as Souji covered Sayako-chan’s mouth and shoved her roughly against the wall. It was a kind of aggression Souji never displayed, and it unnerved Hijikata greatly.

He saw Souji’s grey eyes glance in his direction once more, and then his mouth closed over the tender throat of the woman. She whimpered around the slim fingers with the iron grip over her lips, but seemed unable to struggle. When he heard those vicious teeth puncture the skin, Hijikata turned his head and closed his eyes. He had cut down countless men and several traitorous women with the blade that was at his side even now, but he could not bear to witness this…this violation.

Hijikata knew Souji had finished when he heard a soft thud – the woman falling to the ground. He opened his dark eyes and saw Souji staring at him intently, gauging his reaction.

“Cut off her head. No one can see the marks I left.”

Hesitantly, Hijikata nodded once, and the blade of his sword glinted in the wan moonlight. The sound of metal cleaving flesh was not unfamiliar, but there was hardly any blood on the shining blade as he dragged it flat across the dead woman’s yukata, wiping it clean. Somehow, the lack of blood was more disturbing than any grisly image he had seen or created on the battlefield, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Souji.


Souji was quiet the entire way home.

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