Toshizou Hijikata ♦ 土方 歳三 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
koukai_kirai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thenearshore2016-11-15 12:35 pm
koukai_kirai) wrote in thenearshore2016-11-15 12:35 pm
Love is a ghost train, rumbling through the darkness [OPEN, mostly]
Who: Hijikata and OPEN; Hijikata and Souji
What: After dealing reasonably well all things considered with a lifetime's worth of Issues for a month, Hijikata's been unexpectedly reminded of something pretty painful, and he's struggling to handle it. He's trying to sort himself out a little, but it's hard when you have, like, a fraction of a single coping skill on a good day.
When: May 13th and 14th
Where: Around the Near Shore (a riverbank in the Western suburbs of Tokyo, Kouenji temple in Kyoto, a bench in a public place of your choice in Kyoto); Hachiman's shrine on the Far Shore
Warnings: PTSD, survivor's guilt, regular guilt, intense grieving, graphically violent memories, memories of death, memories of suicide, smoking, depressive behavior, grown men who really need hugs, profanity. Full-blown nervous breakdown happening by the third prompt, but he's not in a good place mentally in any of the prompts. (He's slightly better off in the second one, though, and it's a little more open for silly things to come of it?)
[I. - I took the Cannonball down to the ocean - By the Tama river, western suburbs of Tokyo, May 13th, afternoon - OPEN]
[He's here.]
[It isn't as if Hijikata didn't know it was possible for his old comrades to show up. It isn't as if he hasn't thought about it, thought about every last one of them...]
[Out of all of them, he finds himself thinking, wincing immediately with guilt at the thought, why Sannan?]
[(He'd been so determined to die, isn't it a little cruel to make him live again?)]
[(How is Hijikata supposed to look him in the eye, of all people?)]
[He can't stay in his shrine. Staying there means Souji will know something's wrong with him, means he'll have to find ways around explaining. No, he needs to get out, needs to keep some space between them until he can be calm...]
[So he goes to the Near Shore, once Yamanami's shinki is gone. And since there's no hope, not really, of taking his mind off this, he takes it a step further -- he goes to Hino, to the banks of the Tama River...]
[To the streams and fields of the place where he was born.]
[He can't find the exact spot he's feeling drawn to. He's sure that old stand of bamboo is gone, and the fields it overlooked are too changed to recognize. Perhaps even the little hill it stood on has been bulldozed smooth to make way for some shop or other, after so long.]
[Instead, he wanders up and down the banks of the river for hours, smoking one cigarette after another until he's completely out of them. He doesn't seem to completely notice his surroundings, and might even stumble into oncoming pedestrians, with a slightly delayed, detached-sounding apology.]
[II. - 50 million feet of earth between the buried and me - Dawn, May 14th, Kouenji Temple, Kyoto - OPEN]
[When the night passes and he still hasn't found any peace, he lets his inner urge for self-punishment drive him a step further, further than he's dared to go in this last month:]
[He goes to Kyoto.]
[The buildings in the center of town are taller, shinier, all glass and metal and lights -- but the shape of the streets, unlike Tokyo's, is largely unchanged. It's nearly as easy as it was in his hometown, to let his feet bear him without conscious thought.]
[The gates to all of the temples are closed, at this hour. So are most if not all of the flower shops in town. But, well... that doesn't matter so much, does it, when no one can see him? He buys incense at a convenience store, and fills his arms with flowers from the outer gardens in the houses he passes.]
[Getting over the temple walls with an armful of flowers is... something more of a challenge.]
[Once he's over, he starts to feel a little silly. It's odd, isn't it, to visit the grave of someone who isn't dead anymore? Especially since he couldn't bring himself to visit it when he was still living in Kyoto...]
[But he continues, all the same -- past the room where the one old monk who tends the place is sleeping, around the main temple building, out to the back lot. There's a camellia tree nearby, and... there it is.]
[Hijikata lays the flowers all around the base of Yamanami's gravestone, sets a stick of incense to burn, then kneels down, bowing until his forehead touches the ground.]
...I'm sorry. I never listened to you enough, and...
I'm sorry.
[He stays there a little while, the light of morning beginning to spread around him, until finally he feels like he ought to leave. He goes back to the front of the building, clambers up to the top of the wall -- and pauses there a little awkwardly, as he realizes there's someone on the other side of it.]
[Well. Well, they're probably human, right? It's not as they're someone who's going to notice a tall, scowling man in a slightly rumpled but impeccably stylish suit looking very much like he's trying to sneak out after trespassing in a damn temple...]
[Right?]
[III - I watched the diesel disappear beneath the tumbling waves - Kyoto, anywhere, morning or afternoon of the 14th - OPEN]
[It felt a little better, after he visited the grave. Not better, but maybe nothing a little more walking around the city couldn't help.]
[And then, a few hours later, it hits him like a freight train all over again.]
[It starts with Sannan, of course. It starts with how did I let it end up like that, with the sick sensation of blood clinging to his skin, with his heart dropping down through the empty, gnawing pit of his stomach, with I trusted him and this can't be right and how could he do this to Souji? all clamoring for space in his head.]
[As he finds somewhere to sit down -- a park bench, a corner, somewhere, he doesn't even know or care at this point -- it keeps going from there, passing through all his memories and mercilessly dredging up the worst of his regrets from the bottom of the lake where they'd settled.]
[Kondou's dead. You failed him, you failed him, you couldn't keep him safe--]
[--should have done more to stop Itou from the beginning, you knew, you knew he was trouble and you let him walk away--]
[--just walked away and let him die alone, he loved you, he never loved anything in the world like he loved you and what makes you think you deserve for him to love you again when you turned your back on him and for what, for a cause you knew was lost--]
[--talk about honor as if it's ever meant anything to you, as if your hands aren't dirtier than anyone's and what did it achieve in the end, who did it protect--]
[--how many men died so you could prove yourself--]
[--Toudou wouldn't have died like that if he hadn't left, wouldn't have left if you'd just--]
[--was going to be a doctor, he was going to use that mind of his for something good, and you took that from him, you took--]
[--sons of bitches called him a traitor, fucking Kondou, a traitor, the goddamn nerve of the bastards, the nerve of them killing him like a common criminal after all he'd done for his country, the nerve of them taking away my best friend, my best friend, my brother--]
[--They trusted you. All of them put so much faith in you, and look where it got them.]
[He folds over on himself like he's been punched in the gut, hiding his face in one large hand, shaking as he tries to hold everything in. It will pass, it will pass, it always passes...]
[IV - Hold on to me, darlin', I got no place to go - Hachiman's Shrine, night of the 14th, CLOSED to Souji]
[He can't stay out another night. Souji's going to be frantic, if he does.]
[He can't stay still, either, so soon after coming home in the afternoon, he goes out to the dojo, picks up one of his heavily-weighted practice swords, and shuts off his thoughts as completely as possible.]
[The sun goes down. He stops, lights a lamp or two, and starts again.]
[It's hours past midnight by the time he misses a step in one of his kata, falls, and just can't find the will to get up again.]
[They trusted you, his mind whispers as soon as it has the opening, cold and vicious. They all deserved better. Sannan deserved better...]
[He closes his eyes, curls his fist against the tatami mats, grits his teeth, and doesn't get up.]
I know...
[God, he's tired.]
What: After dealing reasonably well all things considered with a lifetime's worth of Issues for a month, Hijikata's been unexpectedly reminded of something pretty painful, and he's struggling to handle it. He's trying to sort himself out a little, but it's hard when you have, like, a fraction of a single coping skill on a good day.
When: May 13th and 14th
Where: Around the Near Shore (a riverbank in the Western suburbs of Tokyo, Kouenji temple in Kyoto, a bench in a public place of your choice in Kyoto); Hachiman's shrine on the Far Shore
Warnings: PTSD, survivor's guilt, regular guilt, intense grieving, graphically violent memories, memories of death, memories of suicide, smoking, depressive behavior, grown men who really need hugs, profanity. Full-blown nervous breakdown happening by the third prompt, but he's not in a good place mentally in any of the prompts. (He's slightly better off in the second one, though, and it's a little more open for silly things to come of it?)
[I. - I took the Cannonball down to the ocean - By the Tama river, western suburbs of Tokyo, May 13th, afternoon - OPEN]
[He's here.]
[It isn't as if Hijikata didn't know it was possible for his old comrades to show up. It isn't as if he hasn't thought about it, thought about every last one of them...]
[Out of all of them, he finds himself thinking, wincing immediately with guilt at the thought, why Sannan?]
[(He'd been so determined to die, isn't it a little cruel to make him live again?)]
[(How is Hijikata supposed to look him in the eye, of all people?)]
[He can't stay in his shrine. Staying there means Souji will know something's wrong with him, means he'll have to find ways around explaining. No, he needs to get out, needs to keep some space between them until he can be calm...]
[So he goes to the Near Shore, once Yamanami's shinki is gone. And since there's no hope, not really, of taking his mind off this, he takes it a step further -- he goes to Hino, to the banks of the Tama River...]
[To the streams and fields of the place where he was born.]
[He can't find the exact spot he's feeling drawn to. He's sure that old stand of bamboo is gone, and the fields it overlooked are too changed to recognize. Perhaps even the little hill it stood on has been bulldozed smooth to make way for some shop or other, after so long.]
[Instead, he wanders up and down the banks of the river for hours, smoking one cigarette after another until he's completely out of them. He doesn't seem to completely notice his surroundings, and might even stumble into oncoming pedestrians, with a slightly delayed, detached-sounding apology.]
[II. - 50 million feet of earth between the buried and me - Dawn, May 14th, Kouenji Temple, Kyoto - OPEN]
[When the night passes and he still hasn't found any peace, he lets his inner urge for self-punishment drive him a step further, further than he's dared to go in this last month:]
[He goes to Kyoto.]
[The buildings in the center of town are taller, shinier, all glass and metal and lights -- but the shape of the streets, unlike Tokyo's, is largely unchanged. It's nearly as easy as it was in his hometown, to let his feet bear him without conscious thought.]
[The gates to all of the temples are closed, at this hour. So are most if not all of the flower shops in town. But, well... that doesn't matter so much, does it, when no one can see him? He buys incense at a convenience store, and fills his arms with flowers from the outer gardens in the houses he passes.]
[Getting over the temple walls with an armful of flowers is... something more of a challenge.]
[Once he's over, he starts to feel a little silly. It's odd, isn't it, to visit the grave of someone who isn't dead anymore? Especially since he couldn't bring himself to visit it when he was still living in Kyoto...]
[But he continues, all the same -- past the room where the one old monk who tends the place is sleeping, around the main temple building, out to the back lot. There's a camellia tree nearby, and... there it is.]
[Hijikata lays the flowers all around the base of Yamanami's gravestone, sets a stick of incense to burn, then kneels down, bowing until his forehead touches the ground.]
...I'm sorry. I never listened to you enough, and...
I'm sorry.
[He stays there a little while, the light of morning beginning to spread around him, until finally he feels like he ought to leave. He goes back to the front of the building, clambers up to the top of the wall -- and pauses there a little awkwardly, as he realizes there's someone on the other side of it.]
[Well. Well, they're probably human, right? It's not as they're someone who's going to notice a tall, scowling man in a slightly rumpled but impeccably stylish suit looking very much like he's trying to sneak out after trespassing in a damn temple...]
[Right?]
[III - I watched the diesel disappear beneath the tumbling waves - Kyoto, anywhere, morning or afternoon of the 14th - OPEN]
[It felt a little better, after he visited the grave. Not better, but maybe nothing a little more walking around the city couldn't help.]
[And then, a few hours later, it hits him like a freight train all over again.]
[It starts with Sannan, of course. It starts with how did I let it end up like that, with the sick sensation of blood clinging to his skin, with his heart dropping down through the empty, gnawing pit of his stomach, with I trusted him and this can't be right and how could he do this to Souji? all clamoring for space in his head.]
[As he finds somewhere to sit down -- a park bench, a corner, somewhere, he doesn't even know or care at this point -- it keeps going from there, passing through all his memories and mercilessly dredging up the worst of his regrets from the bottom of the lake where they'd settled.]
[Kondou's dead. You failed him, you failed him, you couldn't keep him safe--]
[--should have done more to stop Itou from the beginning, you knew, you knew he was trouble and you let him walk away--]
[--just walked away and let him die alone, he loved you, he never loved anything in the world like he loved you and what makes you think you deserve for him to love you again when you turned your back on him and for what, for a cause you knew was lost--]
[--talk about honor as if it's ever meant anything to you, as if your hands aren't dirtier than anyone's and what did it achieve in the end, who did it protect--]
[--how many men died so you could prove yourself--]
[--Toudou wouldn't have died like that if he hadn't left, wouldn't have left if you'd just--]
[--was going to be a doctor, he was going to use that mind of his for something good, and you took that from him, you took--]
[--sons of bitches called him a traitor, fucking Kondou, a traitor, the goddamn nerve of the bastards, the nerve of them killing him like a common criminal after all he'd done for his country, the nerve of them taking away my best friend, my best friend, my brother--]
[--They trusted you. All of them put so much faith in you, and look where it got them.]
[He folds over on himself like he's been punched in the gut, hiding his face in one large hand, shaking as he tries to hold everything in. It will pass, it will pass, it always passes...]
[IV - Hold on to me, darlin', I got no place to go - Hachiman's Shrine, night of the 14th, CLOSED to Souji]
[He can't stay out another night. Souji's going to be frantic, if he does.]
[He can't stay still, either, so soon after coming home in the afternoon, he goes out to the dojo, picks up one of his heavily-weighted practice swords, and shuts off his thoughts as completely as possible.]
[The sun goes down. He stops, lights a lamp or two, and starts again.]
[It's hours past midnight by the time he misses a step in one of his kata, falls, and just can't find the will to get up again.]
[They trusted you, his mind whispers as soon as it has the opening, cold and vicious. They all deserved better. Sannan deserved better...]
[He closes his eyes, curls his fist against the tatami mats, grits his teeth, and doesn't get up.]
I know...
[God, he's tired.]
no subject
[Dedicated to him. He didn't go on, because honestly, that would be a little bit weird even considering he's technically a god with shrines dedicated to him all over Japan.]
no subject
[Okay: finding a gas station where your house used to be would be weird. Finding your actual house has been turned into a museum is much, much weirder. Tsuzuki stares at him for a few seconds, and then pulls his hands back out of his pockets, because this calls for reaching out and clapping one on Hijikata's shoulder.]
Okay, you know what? I think you could use a drink. Come on, don't just stare at the river out here all afternoon. My treat.
no subject
We're stopping by a tobacconist's, first. I'm running low.
[Because he hasn't been not smoking for more than a few minutes since he got to the Near Shore.]
no subject
Have you been down here smoking all afternoon?
[Or was he running low already?]
no subject
[Either way, he follows along without protest, shrugging a little at Tsuzuki's question.]
A couple of hours.
[What time is it now, anyway? Hell if he knows.]
no subject
[Tsuzuki's tone is sympathetic, but not probing. If Hijikata wants to talk about it, he can -- over cigarettes and booze, probably, and they'll both be more comfortable that way -- but if he just needs a distraction, Tsuzuki can handle that too.
Hey, maybe Tsuzuki'll manage to rope him into some karaoke.]
no subject
[So yes. Tough day.]
no subject
Hey, there is a shop this way. ...You know, if you want to talk about it....
no subject
[But he's way too sober to just go running his mouth. And he needs some more damn smokes, either way.]
Wait here.
[He flash-steps himself over to the shop's front door, emerging a couple of minutes later with a discreet paper bag.]
So. You mentioned something about a drink?
no subject
[It's just half a block down, shabby in the light of day, with an ancient Kirin advertisement posted in the window and a long bar inside with a few racks of bottles on the shelves behind it. The sound system's playing old American jazz, the place smells of tobacco smoke and lemon-scented cleaning product, and the man washing edamame pods behind the bar has the face of a man in his fifties and the shaggy haircut of a twentysomething.
Tsuzuki pulls out a couple of the bar stools and sinks down onto one, leaning an elbow on the counter.]
no subject
Whatever shochu you recommend, rocks. And whatever he's having.
[He takes out his tobacco and rolling papers, his hands a little less steady than usual as he goes about the vaguely soothing ritual of rolling himself a new cigarette.]
no subject
[The bartender slides a bowl of boiled edamame their way, and Tsuzuki picks one out to eat while Hijikata rolls his cigarette. It suits that old-fashioned air he's got not to just buy pre-made; Tsuzuki wonders if it makes any difference to the flavor. (He'll stick with alcohol as his vice. Unlike cigarettes, it mixes well with sugar.)
The last bean pops out of the pod abruptly as Tsuzuki bites down, flying towards Hijikata's face. He yelps apologetically, sitting straight up and fumbling the pod itself onto his jacket in his surprise.]
no subject
[He opens his fist to find the slightly-crushed soy bean inside, and shoots Tsuzuki a little "really?" sort of look.]
[Well, it's his now. He pops it into his mouth as the bartender brings their drinks over, then starts carefully re-rolling the cigarette that nearly came open when he had to defend himself from a rogue bean in the first place.]
no subject
[Tsuzuki scoots his drink towards himself (it's apparently safer than trying to eat the soybeans) and clears his throat, after a moment, as Hijikata finishes rolling his cigarette.]
... And cheers! [He lifts the glass in Hijikata's direction, grinning lopsidedly.]
no subject
Cheers.
[And he's going to go ahead and take a nice big sip, then dig out his lighter and get that cigarette lit. (It does smell a little different from the prepackaged type -- a littler more woodsy and sweet, somehow less acrid.)]
no subject
After a few sips, he clears his throat, breaking into the silence.]
So. Long afternoon, huh.
/late-ass tag while you're in limbo with Tsu, fff
...Yeah. You could say that.
♥!
[Tsuzuki trails off, leaving the offer hanging in the air between them, and downs a second mouthful of his own drink. It's not that bad, actually. He still likes sweet drinks better, but for the afternoon, this is okay.]