Chapter Text
It’s Otae’s wedding and Kondo is sobbing while stuffing himself with banana cakes. Mostly because he’d be wailing if he doesn’t occupy his mouth with something.
Hijikata and Sougo have long since left him to wallow in his own funk and the worst part is Kondo can’t really blame them. He’s been crying over the wedding ever since it was announced three months back and they’re sick of the same routine, day in day out. One is now arguing with the Yorozuya and the other with the China girl, the latter quickly devolving into pure chaos.
Really. Flirting with their love interest while their commander is off trying to get himself killed by pastries. Some subordinate he has!
After all, how can he not cry when Otae look incredibly beautiful in that three-tiered white dress and sheer veil that highlights her loveliness, the happy blush on her cheek bringing out the colour of the rose pinned on her groom’s chest. One glance and everyone knows they’re the perfect couple—both good looking, both the first child of a dojo, both madly in love. They’re the perfect couple in every sense of the phrase. She looks so bright and happy and amazing and Kondo would cry while hugging Kyuubei by now from the visceral, gut-ripping heartbreak if not for the fact that she’s the one who got a rose pinned to her chest.
That traitor.
She’s supposed to be here crying with him when Otae go and pick a non-stalker man to marry and pop out the dojo’s successor with, but there she is with the recent stick she added to her arsenal after a trip to a nearby galaxy. His arsenal. Whatever. Kondo’s not very interested in the semantics while he’s choking on tear-salty cake in Otae-san and Jyuubei’s marriage venue. They’re starting to taste bitter like death… maybe because he really is dying.
A badly-timed hiccup forces a mouthful of flaky cake down the wrong pipe and Kondo bent over, gripping his neck with both hands. Ah, maybe this is it. The sweet release of death that will finally set him free from the pain of watching Otae-san happy in another man’s arms. He can see it now, the black wings of the death ripper and—
—a glass of water, shoved into his hand.
“Please chew slowly, you will choke if you keep that up.” The voice, gentle but firm, the kind that every mothers strife to use with their children until they disobey like the little shits they are, is enough to make him try and dispel the dark-cloaked, scythe-wielding spectre hovering about. Supported by the new will to survive to thank his life saviour he grabbed the glass and chugs it down in one breath.
“Ah—thank you for that—“ Kondo cut himself off, hand tightening on the cool glass and almost breaking the surface.
Beside him, Utsuro smiles. Sweet and kind and gentle like he didn’t try to destroy planet earth three years ago, and nods to Kondo’s thank like he didn’t stop midway when he realize who he is thanking.
Kondo doesn’t even realize this man is here. So involved in the deep abyss of his own despair that he doesn’t notice the one odd out.
“Is the banana cake that good? I see that you’ve been eating so much of them the last few hours.”
“Ah—yeah, they’re… they’re good.” Kondo snatched the a piece and hands it to Utsuro. “Here, you can try some.”
Utsuro said his thanks with a bright tone and digs in. And that’s really something isn’t it? Another proof of how amazing a woman Otae is, to allow this man to her special day. Left to Kondo, he won’t be anywhere near the event at all.
Or anywhere close to earth, thank you very much.
…But then again the Yorozuya trio is here and he got a sneaking suspicion that even if Otae hadn’t invited him, Gintoki would drag his master along either way. Kondo has never seen students half as devoted to their masters as this man’s three troublemakers who took down Japan and reform it in his name and ideals.
Katsura Kotarou the Rampaging Noble and ex-great leader of Japan (currently dead from assassination and attends the ceremony as Captain Katsura), Takasugi Shinsuke the former royal pain in the government’s ass and the current commander of the entire national army, Sakata Gintoki the White Demon and the single most baffling man he ever know, and Imai Nobume the new Commissioner-Chief of the police force. Kondo would be lying if he says he’s not curious about the man who educated all of these figureheads of the new Japan and what he fed to those kids.
“I heard from Gintoki that you are close to Shimura-san.” Utsuro comments before he can open his mouth and start a conversation himself.
“Ah.” Kondo clears his throat. It’s sticky and dry from all the cakes and definitely not because it’s clogged with snot. “I used to, yeah—she’s an amazing woman. Now… well, now she has made her choice and I have no right to take that away from her.”
Utsuro hums and his smile becomes softer. Kondo knows that he knows he’s lying about Otae being in the past—he still very much love her and his heart is still very much in pieces. Still, the level of tact is not something he used to so he ends up waiting for the jab that never came. Instead, Utsuro said;
“You are an amazing man.”
“Huh?” Kondo blinks at him repeatedly, shaking his head a little wondering if he’s dreaming. “Am I?”
“The woman you loved chose someone else and not only you support her, you are right here watching over her even when you must be in pain. Putting yourself aside to make way for the happiness of a loved one is indeed the greatest quality one can have.” Green irises, warm and shining with the kind of wisdom Kondo never quite saw in many people peeks from underneath light brown bangs. “Otae-san is lucky to have you as a friend.”
This time, when Kondo burst into ugly wailing, there’s no exasperated faces and words. Just Utsuro, his nemesis, Jesus Christ his nemesis is comforting him, eating banana cakes with him in sympathy.
.
.
.
“She’s married now.”
“Yes, she is.”
“I don’t think I can go there and stalk her anymore. You think I can? I don’t think I can. I mean, she’s married now.”
“I don’t think you can, and yes she is married now.”
Kondo sobs just a little. “She has a husband.”
“Yes.” Utsuro said kindly with zero condensation or exhaustion in his tone. “And she married one of the best men Earth can offer.”
Kondo sniffs. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy for her—him—they too. They fit each other like puzzles, you know. Like banana peel and the banana, chocolate chip and cookie dough. They belong together.”
“They both looked very happy.”
There’s silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by the flipping of page as Utsuro continues reading and Kondo continues curling on the damp earth underneath a tree, huddled up in a blanket and staring blankly at everything.
“She’s married now…”
“Yes, she is.”
“I don’t think I can go there and stalk her anymore. You think I can? I don’t think I can. I mean, she’s married now.”
“I don’t think you can, and yes she is married. Yagyuu-san will take good care of her.”
Kondo curls into a slightly tighter ball, hiccups, and continues with the same circular dialogue.
Again.
And again.
And Again.
And in between, Utsuro finishes his book. Pauses. And opens it again from the very beginning for the third time.
Kondo went home when dusk hits—a few moments after Utsuro excuses himself, saying his students have been berating him about reading in low light. Kondo thought for sure it’s just an excuse and he’s sick and tired of Kondo’s pining just like literally everyone else.
But the next day he returns to that tree and Utsuro is already sitting there with five new books piled on one side. He greets Kondo with what must be his signature smile, even as Kondo takes out the blanket he picks up from barrack, swaddles himself in it and repeats yesterday’s process all over again like he’s picking up where he left off.
.
“Thanks. For, y’know, listening to me. I know I can be pretty obnoxious at times.” Kondo said, back to the tree trunk and blanket pooling in his laps. Beside them is an open container of donuts that he had Yamazaki pick up this morning to show his gratitude.
To Utsuro.
What has his life become.
Utsuro looks up from his book. And smiles. He’s always smiling. It would be disturbing if every one of them is not so damn sincere. “I think it’s admirable how you capable of such a deep love. There’s nothing shameful about grieving what you could have had.”
Kondo rubs the tears from his eyes and sucks in the snot that almost drip out of his nose from those words. “Yeah.” His voice is gravel. “Thanks. Guess’ you’re not such a bad guy anymore, Utsuro.”
There’s a pause and Kondo wonders if he offended the other man. Maybe this will be the day the Shinsengumi find his body butchered up in the storm sewage like a homage to clown demons.
“Please, call me Shouyou.” Utsuro said.
“Shouyou?”
“Yoshida Shouyou.” He turns to Kondo and there’s not a trace of anger in his face. What’s there, instead, is a deep kind of sadness that translates itself into a smile. “But I guess you don’t have to. Maybe Utsuro does fit me better.”
“Yoshida Shouyou.” Kondo let the words roll of his tongue. He tries to remember the fatalistic man from three years ago who bears the name of emptiness like both a curse and a blessing and only see someone wearing black like attending a funeral, with malice bleeding off of him in waves. He has a hard time relating that monster to the man who’s been listening and responding to his teary whining for three days straight with nothing but kindness. He reaffirms to himself and nods with satisfaction.
Grinning at Utsu—at Shouyou, Kondo exclaims, “Yeah, Yoshida Shouyou fits you better!”
There’s a momentary surprise from the other and then for the first time Kondo hears him laugh. Not the creepy, villain laugh—the ‘khukhukhu I’m destroying the world!’. But a small, honest laughter that’s followed up by an equally small, honest smile afterward.
“Thank you, Kondo-san.”
.
“You’re faring better than I expected, boss.”
Kondo looks up from the reports about Hajime faction, a recent joui activist who’s gaining a lot of traction, to see Yamazaki fidgeting in the hallway. “Faring what better?”
“Shimura… Yagyuu Otae’s marriage, sir. Seeing your track record, I expected you to be depressed a bit longer.” Yamazaki answers, flipping through the stack of paper in his hand like he’s not paying the utmost attention to the smallest reaction Kondo has to his words. But he doesn’t have to really put in so much concentration considering even the blind can see how Kondo tenses up at the mention of her name.
Strange. Otae-san has punched him a lot of time in the past but none of them compares to the white-hot fist that slams into Kondo’s just by saying that two names in that order. Yagyuu. Otae. One damily name and one given name mixed to give a new identity to the bride. Yagyuu. Otae. Maybe he should lobby Katakuriko into making it illegal to string those names together now that he can do whatever he wants as the princess’ second-in-command.
He got a feeling it won’t be received well, though.
So instead he grins and folds his arms. “What, you think I’d still be moping around the barracks around this time?”
“Uh. Frankly, yes, sir. Did something happen?”
Kondo thought of all the purging he’s done for three days straight, the lone pine tree and Yoshida Shouyou’s calming voice. “I cried a lot and felt better.” He decides to answer with something honest but not too honest lest Yamazaki tells Tosshi and his stupid, honourable vice-chief might do something foolish like try to threaten Yoshida Shouyou to stop meeting Kondo. It sounds like something Hijikata would do.
“I see.” Yamazaki nods. “and I’ve been hearing rumours that you’ve been frequenting the Yorozuya as of late. Any reason for that one?”
“To bring them sweets, of course!”
“Of course.” Yamazaki smiles. But his eyes are confused. It’s his brand of pretending to understand but actually don’t. “Do you know that the new store open in west district has great castella? Heard they’re imported from a planet which sole production is castella. I’m sure danna would be happy.”
Yamazaki excuses himself and walks away. There’s no doubt in Kondo’s mind that he’s going straight to Tosshi and report everything about the talk they just had.
Really, as nosey as his subordinate can be (and they’re the very embodiment of that word), Kondo can’t be anymore grateful to have someone who cares so much about him.
.
.
.
Around three to four times a week, Kondo meets the Yorozuya’s master at the market. Yoshida Shouyou seems to be an early bird unlike his very-much-not disciple and shop for groceries in the morning. Since Kondo enjoys his company and likes waking up earlier than most of his men anyway, he changed his patrolling schedule to the early mornings and walk pretty fast so they can have a few minutes’ worth of time to walk together and talk about anything interesting that’s been cropping up in their lives.
Stuff like, “I think Kotarou is finally convinced to make a move on Ikumatsu-san. It’s a good thing, she’s a lovely woman and he likes her very much.”
Or, “Sougo almost blew the barrack up again yesterday. Shimaru’s hair is originally an afro but it’s now permed afro! Haha, it’s great having lively subordinates!”
And, “Gintoki’s blood sugar is rising again… oh dear, I don’t know what I should do about that boy, he keeps eating sweets when he’s out of my sight. Do you think I might have to lock him up for a few weeks until his blood sugar level go back to normal?”
“Tosshi’s not sleeping for the third time this week. Third time! He works so hard he needs more rest and he’s not sleeping! Sometimes I think I should make him sleep in my room so I can make sure he actually sleeps and don’t sneak in paper works with him into bed.”
Looking back, they mostly talked about their subordinates and students like two dads gossiping about their unruly children. It’s rare to find someone who understands in the most visceral level about the pains and joys of raising a bunch of troublemakers.
Maybe it’s that feeling of kinship that placed the strange fullness in Kondo’s chest after every talk with Yoshida Shouyou. It felt like he swallowed something without chewing and it’s stuck in the middle of his chest. It grows larger and larger and by the time they part ways, Kondo would be full and stays like that for the rest of the day.
He theorizes it might be the banana cakes he consumed crying out for their long-lost other half that Yoshida Shouyou ate.
“So, yeah, if tonight’s raid is a success, there will less threat for Soyo-hime’s rally next month.” Kondo folds his arms and nods. “It’s vital that we capture the Hajime faction before they can wreak more havoc than they already did.”
“Kondo-san is sure a hard worker. But please, don’t forget to eat and rest when you can. Have you gotten breakfast yet?”
This. One of the thing why Kondo can’t see Yoshida Shouyou for three minutes without grinning. He’d mother everyone all the time without even realizing it. The particular kind of man who would try and adopt all orphans in Edo without anyone to watch him—not a farfetched assumption seeing his track record with Katsura, the Yorozuya and Imai Nobume.
And to think he was trying to destroy the world three years ago. Seeing this man with his arms full of apples in the morning, it’s hard to imagine he can even kill a dying cockroach.
Of course, Captain Katsura took the time to filll him in about Yoshida Shouyou’s background and about the whole mess that is his split personality. Still, it’s almost absurd to think that blood stained monster and what can measure as the Yorozuya’s mom is the same being. Kondo’s head might explode if he tries to think about that too hard so he just doesn’t.
“I’ll get something after the patrol. You know me, being hungry is my favourite seasoning!” He guffaws loudly, earning himself an amused smile.
“As long as you remember to not skip any meals. It would be a bad thing if you fall over from ulcer and complications.”
“I guess you’re right. Hah, I might get something for tomorrow’s breakfast as well.”
They parted way soon and the day speeds up as it proceeds. No, Kondo corrects himself. Time don’t speed up, it’s like it just return to its original speed. The day continues like that, an ever-climbing fast-forward that climaxes with the raid. A blade in hand and enemies charging in. In this situation time felt like a treadmill beneath his feet. One wrong step, one wrong pace and he will fall off and time would stop for him.
It continues being so quick even when he opens his eyes the next morning.
Maybe that’s why he drags himself out of his futon and puts on his uniform. Fighting the aches and soreness of overworked muscles and bruises, he walks out to the gate before he’s stopped by a familiar voice.
“Kondo-san?” Hijikata’s voice stops him from walking away. On the hardwood floor of the barrack, every one of Hijikata’s footfall sounds harsher and louder. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, just for the patrol! The evil joui-shishi are not the only ones threatening the peace of Edo, Tosshi!”
Hijikata frowns, crinkling the edges of the bandage on one cheek. “Those who didn’t partake in the raid are taking over today’s patrols. You’re still wounded, Kondo-san. Better go back to bed”
“What? This?” Kondo rolls one shoulder and grins to hide the wince. “I’m perfectly fine! See? I only get some cuts on the raid yesterday—you worry too much!”
Hijikata’s eyes narrows, becoming slivers of blue just like they do whenever he’s suspicious of something. “Why are you insisting so hard to go?”
“Huh?” Kondo freezes, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Why is he so nervous when all he wants to do is just go out for a patrol? “L-look! If I do this then it’ll boost the morale of the organization right? As the leader, I can’t just stand down after a fight just because of some minor wounds!”
“You requested all your patrol slots to be placed at mornings. Does this have any connection to that?”
“I like mornings!”
There’s a moment of tense silence where Kondo is almost sure Hijikata will either threaten him to go back to bed or coerce him to a confession. But in the end, his shoulders just sag with what seems to be acceptance.
“Fine. Just take Sakaguchi and Taneda with you.”
Kondo beams at him. “Sure thing!”
With two of Shinsengumi’s newer recruit trailing behind him, Kondo sets out from the barrack to circle the city and cover the grid pattern that he must keep his eyes on. By the time the sun is slightly above the horizon, they reaches Kabuki-cho’s marketplace and Kondo immediately scans the crowd as he walks.
On the street corner is a familiar man. He looks toward Kondo when he draws nearer. The first smile Yoshida Shouyou sent his way and the clock finally slows.
“Kondo-san. Good morning.”
“Yoshida-san, good morning! Out for grocery again?” He lifts a hand in an amicable wave, voice booming over the bustle of crowd. The two subordinate trails him when he makes his way to Shouyou.
“I was waiting for you, actually.” Shouyou lifts a package wrapped in blue furoshiki. “I’d like you to have this, if you don’t mind.”
Kondo accepts the package, using all his self-control to resist shaking it and gain a clue of what’s inside. “What is this?”
“Some karaage. I would have liked to invite you to lunch today but everyone including me will be helping out Otae-san with repairs. You can come at evening though, we will be having nabe at Gintoki’s place.”
For a moment there his heart jumped when Shouyou mentioned Otae, but the sting is quickly covered up by Shouyou’s “I hope you enjoy the food.”
“I definitely will! Anything you cook turn out amazing!” Kondo beams at the teacher, holding the bento close with one hand and scratching the back of his head with the other.
Shouyou chuckles, the light sound almost fades into the background noise of morning Edo. “Well then I’ll be going now. I promised Otae-san I’ll help her with making onigiri.”
They part way and Kondo is so happy to receive the package that he barely notices his two subordinate gossiping behind him with wild gestures and Tosshi sending weird looks at him when he tore into the food in the barracks.
It’s rather hard to realize those minutias when there’s a row of perfectly golden-brown vegetable dumpling and karaage to enjoy after all.
.
For some reason Kondo’s patrol time is extended after that. Rather than twenty-minutes round, he got forty but with the same distance. The longer time means he can stay and chat a bit longer with Yoshida Shouyou and that puts him in good mood, enough to not notice Sougo’s and Tosshi’s knowing looks.
.
.
.
“The last time you had some action was before the joui war?”
Kondo is not sure if he can close his gaping mouth when Shouyou answers with affirmative. The dango stand is deserted since it’s going to close up soon, and they’re the only two left. Shouyou places down the last empty stick to his plate, meaning they will also be leaving soon.
“I don’t feel the urge as strongly as normal humans do—and I don’t really want to abandon my students for a night of tryst. After I form Shouka Sonjuku, I never really sought out anything.” Shouyou answered like it’s a normal thing to be celibate for more than two decades. Kondo can barely go past three months without the itch caused him to be dragged toward Yoshiwara with a leash.
The moment Shouyou answers him honestly, Katsura and Gintoki made identical disgusted noises and left like their asses are on fire. Kondo sympathizes with them. If his dad starts talking about his sex life, not even Eyeshield can catch up to Kondo fleeing the room.
He pauses, gathers his thoughts, and continues. “Huh, okay. Hey, since you were busy destroying the world and then restoring it and all, have you visited Yoshiwara yet?”
“I sometimes do, yes. The leader of its police force is a close acquaintance of Gintoki’s and sometimes we help out with problems like murders and drugs since they don’t have much influence outside the underground.” Shouyou explains. “I’m sure you would like the leader of Hyakka.”
“So you never— you know, visit the new kind of shops there?”
“The new kind of shops?”
“Well, they’re starting to sell more varied services after the ceiling’s taken out. Like S&M Club, the Sadist Club, the BDSM bar, the likes?”
Shouyou tilts his head to the side and answers, “I don’t think I have.”
“Great!” Kondo grins and pats him roughly on the shoulder. “Then let me be the one to introduce you to a whole new world! Be careful, you might not be able to get out!”
“I see. Well, I’ll look forward to it.”
.
One hour into the two-hour course of the famed Heaven’s Gate SM Club and Shouyou has all the submissives and doms alike in the whole damn building racing to cry on his laps. And it’s not even because the guy picks up some kind of secret kama sutra in his long life or anything—he just have this effect on everyone that makes them just want to confess their sins.
Right now, he’s sitting on a large sofa, with a girl curled in his laps, crying about how her father sold her to Yoshiwara and now she don’t know what to do with her life anymore. He gently shushes her and gives wise advices and so much comfort to go around the room that even the two dozen people surrounding him is comforted too. Kondo is pretty damn sure at least half of the sex workers in this place will leave to try and make better people of themselves come morning.
Kondo mentally calculates the money in his bank account. He brought that teacher into this mess so if the owner decides to ask for compensation because he turned the prostitutes into better human beings in one night, Kondo will take responsibility.
But for now, he leans back on the wooden horse and wonders if there will be any Queens left for him by the time the sermon ends.
.
It wasn’t a queen.
The moment it went out that Kondo brought Yoshida Shouyou to an SM club, he got a personal visit from the commander of the national army, Takasugi Shinsuke.
Everyone thought the ex-radical terrorist has calmed down after successfully destroying the world, but Kondo made a misstep and that misstep is forgetting out of the four Yoshida Shouyou’s disciple, this guy is the most devoted and most willing to get his hands dirty.
And if Kondo got out of the experience with a new taste for torture from men as well? Then it’s not such a loss, really.
.
.
.
“Oh my god, why.”
“It’s because you’re an idiot, that’s why.”
Kagura and Sougo breaks into a fight, kicking up sand as they go about smashing each other’s faces in. Their screams echoes on the massive cliff that surrounds the strip of beach on all three sides.
“You brats! Shut up and start working!” Gintoki hollers at them and promptly received a mouthful of sand for his trouble.
Any other circumstance and Kondo would love this scenario. The Yorozuya and Shinsengumi officials in a beach, there’s no better way to describe it than being full of potential fun (and disaster). With Hijikata tripping over Gintoki’s prone bodies and beginning to bicker about whose fault that was, the two fighting monsters a little bit off in the distance, Shinpachi and Yamazaki with their heads down and seriously looks for Imai Nobume’s phone that fell to this side from the cliff, everyone he wants to see happy is right here minus two people who are enjoying domestic bliss. .
Look at them. The whole bunch of Soyo-hime’s most trusted allies and friends, tackling each other in the sand like a group of five years old in a theme park.
“Lively bunch, aren’t they?” He points to them as he walks toward the group in a sedate pace, metal detector in one hand and a whole bunch of umbrella in the other. Plastic crinkles as Shouyou redirects his attention to Kondo rather than the bags of food on each hands.
“Yes. They have always been like that.”
They found an outcropping of rocks that creates a small, natural roof and Shouyou spreads a blanket, placing the plastic bags and basket on top. Kondo drops the umbrellas without letting go of the metal detector. The umbrellas are Gintoki’s suggestion, shouting about how his favourite weather lady said it’s going rain hard today so better bring some.
Kondo don’t really believe in occult-based weather forecast but it seems like the weather lady is right. The sky is overcast with clouds so thick they might as well be the belly of a rolling, writhing dragon.
“Would you like to join them, Kondo-san?” Shouyou invites him and Kondo nods eagerly.
“That’s why I brought this thing with me!” He heaves the metal detector to one shoulder proudly. “Cool, right?”
“Is that some kind of detector?”
“Yes! It will help us finding Imai Nobume’s phone faster than looking for it in the sand god knows how deep.”
“That’s great thinking.”
Shouyou walks ahead and Kondo trails behind. Pale hair the color of wheat catches on the wind and Shouyou only tries to reign them back in after the breeze has passed, sending an amused smile back at him because, yeah, long hair can be a bother sometimes.
It’s at that moment Kondo realizes why he’s been having that weird choking-on-banana-cakes feelings in his chest. To think it’s actually something that normal people with working eyes can see is just embarrassing.
The thing is, Shouyou is very pretty. Beautiful, even.
He has noticed this from a long time ago—it’s hard not to when sometimes he still dream of that very face, grinning and dripping with blood. He always thought, in the battle to decide the universe’s fate, that Utsuro is beautiful.
Not like how he found Otae to be beautiful. Not like the flowers or the stars or the seas. His is a beauty of finely tempered sword that sings with a joyful tune as it cuts and tears through human flesh. A monster who dances in a rain of blood, an impeccable smile and heart-stopping red eyes and pale skin. A force of natural disaster, a terrible beauty that can only come with destruction, that’s what Utsuro is.
But Shouyou is different. To him are not the blood-red lips or the faint glimmer of life between all the death and destruction. To him is the beauty of spring, the kind Kondo would find in the sunlight that peeks through pine trees, the kind that dwells in the endless sprawl of rice paddies. Yoshida Shouyou. What a fitting name.
And now, with the gray sky and gray water as background, his brilliance is contrasted and Kondo can’t help but think he never saw anyone or anything quite as beautiful.
Maybe, maybe this feeling of fullness in his chest would let go if he says that out loud so he does.
Shouyou stares at him, wide-eyed and lips parted. The words, You know, you’re real pretty, dissolves in the air between them.
It starts as creases between Shouyou’s eyebrows then to a twitch of his lips and before he knows it, Shouyou is laughing. Not the usual chuckle and small laughter, no. He bends over and clutches his stomach and Kondo can hear him even past the wind. And he’s wrong after all. That fullness don’t disappear, it simply increases until it break past Kondo’s lips as a loud, full-bellied laughter.
Shouyou wipes away tears that formed on the corners of his eyes, grinning with his face flushed. “Thank you Kondo-san. That’s a very a kind thing to say.”
Kondo slings an arm around Shouyou’s shoulders and drag him along toward the rest of the group, his own grin wide and almost swallowed his whole face. “You got a good laugh. You know, you will be really damn popular if you laugh like that more!”
This time, it’s a chuckle, but the way it amplifies the blockage is no joking matter.
“I don’t want to be popular. But I do like laughing, if I must say so. It’s a good thing you can always make me laugh somehow.”
“Yeah.” Kondo looks up to the overcast sky and his breath burst in a fog of white. “I’ll have to do my best as well, then.”
.
It starts raining just as they found the phone. Going home, they’re missing one umbrella and Kondo can’t say he really minds having his trouser and shoulder wet by sharing one with Shouyou.
.
.
.
Otae is beautiful and Kondo’s heart aches just by looking at her. It was announced that she’s pregnant with the Yagyuu’s heir and he’s here with a bunch of flowers and what he hopes is a sincere smile.
“Congratulations.” He said, handing the bucket to her and shaking Jyuubei’s hand. He nods at him seriously but there’s a certain flush of giddy happiness in his one eye.
“Thank you so much for coming, Kondo-san. It’s been some time since we met.” Otae said.
That’s because I no longer hang around your house hoping to see a glimpse of you anymore. Kondo wants to say, but he holds himself back, grins, and said, “Well, reformations are always rough on the crime-fighting department. There’s not day without being buried neck-deep in work. Kondo-san is working hard today!”
“Why don’t you come in, Kondo? We have macademia nuts and tea.” Jyuubei said.
“That sounds great! By the way, I heard the Yorozuya are here to help with repairs?”
“Yes, we’re trying to rebuild our father’s dojo but some of the woods have rotted, not fit for use. Everyone is working hard together inside.” Otae explains, opening the gate a little bit wider. “Please, come inside.”
Kondo walks behind her, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Jyuubei. They never really gotten along, what’s with being love rivals and all, so the silence is not that jarring especially considering Jyuubei’s quieter nature.
“I didn’t think you would come.” Jyuubei said, low enough that Otae wouldn’t be able to hear them.
“Why is that?”
“If you were me, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.” He confesses, closing his eye.
“It’s a good thing she chose you, then. You’re a far better husband than I will ever be.” Kondo shrugs. With a wide, honest grin, he slaps Jyuubei’s back. “She’s too good for you so make sure she’s happy.”
A small smile appears on Jyuubei’s face. “Of course.”
Any kind of continuation to their talk is cut off when the dojo come into view. Yorozuya is napping on the roof, China curled up right beside him. It’s eyeglasses and Yoshida Shouyou that’s actually working.
From the top of the roof, Shouyou waves at him and Kondo waves right back. Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.
.
.
.
In the end, the decision is already made for him the moment Shouyou brought him water on Otae’s wedding. If he’s romantic enough to believe in fate, and he is, then he’d say that was the very moment their destiny tangles with each other’s.
.
.
.
It’s the middle of winter when Kondo can finally take a one day break. Maybe it’s because all joui-shishi are hibernating at this season under their kotatsus like Katsura, so there’s not much for the Shinsengumi to do. Rather than the paper walls of his room, Kondo finds himself looking out to the sea and the snow that melts the moment they touches the waves.
The promenade is predictably abandoned in this kind of day, the sea not at all helping with the continuous frigid wind. But Kondo survives being trapped in a blizzard with nothing but his boxer and gloves; he’d survive this little breeze with his jacket and warm boots.
Plus, Shouyou’s ears and nose is turning red and it’s so cute he’s not willing to give up just to get warm.
Said man is walking by his side, arms laden with ingredients for chicken soup and hot cocoa—seems like two of his kids and both grandkids are falling sick because they stayed for too long under the kotatsu so he braved the chilly winter’s day to go out and make food for them.
Really, what lucky assholes they are. If he has someone like Shouyou who would make him food and mother him every day…
Kondo coughs to clear his mind but ends up actually coughing when the dry air rubs his throat raw.
“Are you okay, Kondo-san?” Shouyou slows his pace to watch Kondo who’s torn about taking a deep breath and causing more damage to his airway or not and, well, die. In the end he opts to take shorter puffs of breath and signals his okay-ness with a thumbs’ up.
Shouyou nods, playing along with his lack of words, and they return to walking back to Kabuki-cho. The day is so cold, snow is piling on the sidewalks. If not for the bright yellow, bunny-printed scarf around his neck, Kondo is almost sure he’d lose the pale-skinned, pale-haired man in all these snow.
Unlike in romantic movies, there’s no signal for Kondo to start. There’s no sudden break in the cloud, no dove above them fluttering by, no mermaid straying on the beach to become a topic opener, there’s just him, Shouyou, and the blasted breeze.
“Shouyou… got something to tell you.” Kondo forces the words out of his mouth. Immediately, he can feel the heavy burden of Shouyou’s undivided attention on him. Kondo swallows. Remember Hijikata’s advice; start slow, start with the obvious, it’ll all be easier. “I’m actually not human. I’m a gorilla.”
Shouyou blinks up at him in momentary confusion and breaks into a smile. “I know that, Kondo-san. You’ve always been the exemplary kind ever since we met.”
“Yes, well,” he pauses, “I’m also kind of a stalker. And a masochist.”
“And also a kind and caring man.” Shouyou adds. Sheepishly, Kondo the tip of his own nose.
“Aww, that’s so sweet.” He takes in another breath and adds, “My work keeps me at crazy hours so I might not come home a few times in the week.”
Shouyou seems to mull on these facts for a moment before finally countering with, “I’m an immortal, and I’ve killed much more people than the current human population on earth.”
Kondo huffs, pretending to be annoyed even though there’s a grin on his face. “My libido is unrivalled in the whole of Edo.”
“My hair clogs the drain.”
“I have a forest of butt hair.”
Shouyou nods. “I have a split personality that might try to destroy the world every Wednesday for the giggles.”
“I come with 200 children.”
“I come with two ex-terrorists, one NEET and Shinsengumi’s mortal enemy.”
Kondo grins. “We’re both terrible.”
“We are.” Shouyou smiles and Kondo wonders if there’s a trick of light that makes just another smile from Shouyou’s endless repertoire look even prettier.
Kondo leans down and kisses Shouyou right on that smile.
What stands in front of him is an immortal being as old as the dirt under his feet and the sky above his head and the ocean that spreads as far as his eyes can see. And as much as he always imagined losing his first kiss to a brown-haired woman, strong and beautiful woman, it felt right that lost it to someone so out of the world. To Yoshida Shouyou.
Shouyou opens his eyes when Kondo pulls back and smiles.
“One more?”
Kondo happily obliges.
Yeah. This feels right. Kondo thinks maybe he’d like to keep doing this as long as he can.
