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𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈  [ miburoni. ]

              his thoughts plumped with a sweeter melancholy. those familiar whisky halos that twinkled from isami’s eyes reminded toshizō of simpler, better days. those days where they were youthful, hopeful. before the light in their lives, the life from the eyes stolen away without them even knowing it. toshizō remembers how he could not do anything for isami in the end. how he could not save him, break him from the prison and be made a scapegoat for all the anger, all the blind rage that ate away at sensibilities. he remembers how blind he was, to fixated in making a great daimyō out of isami.

we were supposed to be happy together,  words so vividly clear,  you, me, souji, shinpachi … everyone. but then it was just him. alone. an agent of his own destiny.  the pain, the hurt, the grief melted into a tepid ire coated by a gentleness and madness that could not exist without each other. the rising sun became the moon at dawn and that moon had to extinguish the afternoon sun. 

“  i thought this was a dream.   ”   throat husky, croon withered from endless hours of howling commands, bellowing his war cries in battle,   “  i did not expect you like this. i was prepared to never see you again.   ”    the innocent of wishes ought to stay in the most sacred of dreams; he did not want this dream to end, did not want to isami go. no more, not ever again. he did not want to build another grave. 

toshizō almost forgets to pay attention, eyes drawing to isami’s hand touching the back of his neck. where the blade fell and severed his head from body. toshizō’s smile waned gingerly, motioning to close the distance between them. the raven-haired man’s head tilts, angling to better look at his friend, to make a connection like they always head. to feel what he felt with intuition.   “  … carrying the shinsengumi is something i wanted to do willingly.  ”  almost a whisper.

he cants his head elsewhere, to nowhere.  “  it’s something that i knew, felt and understood i had to do.   ”   their era no longer had a need for samurai;  that much is true. that much he truly knew and he understood well. dr. matsumoto taught them himself —- for japan’s prosperity, for japan’s survival in an ever changing world, they needed to adopt the west’s ways. and so they did with the artillery and fire arms. toshizō worked closely with french advisors as well, donning their clothes and removing the blue haori from his back. an acceptance. 

but if there is anything he could not accept it was the end of their dream. his dream.  “  i said to myself i would not look you in the eyes in the afterlife were i to let the shinsengumi end.  ”  carmine hues reconnected those hazel eyes of isami’s. closer he was, there was an eerie glint of something more. a change in his friend, maybe more,  “  and i will keep to this oath. forever.  ”  true immortality, and nothing would stop him. not even souji, not even isami. this was his sincerity.

@moeyoken​

          ❝As was I,❞ Isami says, the confession coming harsh and soft, all the same. After all, it was and is the end of a time that he no longer feels the sense of going back. Or rather, did not want to go back. He’s foolish, thinking about then, a time that he wonders if he would change anything to change the outcome. No, he’s been down this path before; he cannot change what’s been done and he cannot undo the hardship he’s created. He cannot ever undo the hurt and the burden he’s given his brother, his best friend, the ache that comes knowing he’s done this to Toshi is almost suffocating.

          Isami remains as is, only moving ever so slightly to be close enough as how they would normally if they were to sit together on a tatami mat. Which, in this place, seems to have already manifested itself some semblance of what might’ve been their headquarters. But it’s a generic room with an ordinary piece of floral decor in the corner and screen doors encircling them. Simple, just like how they once were, but it gives him a piece of mind that this place isn’t all... empty. For a place called the Throne of Heroes, Isami wonders exactly when he’d be summoned.

          If ever.

          So even when Toshi tries to get a better look at him, Isami is only making one of those tired, but weary smiles. Burdened and stuck together in some semblance of a prison of his own mind, Isami is, in some right of his own, lost.

          The whisper that comes is enough for Isami to wonder once more, what has he done to deserve this, and why is it that he has burdened his brother with this. Choked words die in his throat, wanting to tell him that it’s quite alright for him to stop since he is no longer a part of it and that the Shinsengumi has long since died. That time has past and that he’s sorry, so incredibly sorry, that he placed that weight on him. So many words to say, but no right way to say it, and somehow, Isami, again and again, wants to tell him it’s okay to stop—

          And yet, he’s thanked him for carrying on the Shinsengumi name. What kind of man is he? Isami realizes that he’s still a coward.

          ❝I see,❞ he says after a moment, slowly nodding. Had to do, hm? Somehow, it fits him. Seemingly always annoyed as he appeared to be, Isami knew that Toshi is an amazing and kind man. Dedicated to a fault and perhaps, loyalty, too. He’s only heard the things of what’s happened and what’s become of the Shinsengumi from the scant words he’s managed to pick up over the years. It’s not much, scraps, if he’s honest, but this is the first time he’s someone familiar. And it’s going to probably be how he finds out what is the state of the world and what has happened.

          Isami lifts his gaze to Toshizō as he speaks, their eyes connecting as he tells him of his vow of meeting in the afterlife. Somehow, something about that makes him consider how asinine and foolish his thoughts might’ve been. The resolute glint in his eyes is enough for Isami to realize that this is who he is now, devoted and firm in his belief for the Shinsengumi. Ah, he supposes it’s not just his fault that he’s become this way, is it? At any point in time, he could’ve very well left and chose another path.

          ❝—You were always so serious,❞ Isami says after another moment longer, his voice with a slight wobble at the end, overwhelmed with emotion. He makes a weak smile, his head a conflicted mess of emotions that weigh heavy on his heart. Guilt with admiration make for a messy amalgamation of feelings and thoughts, so Isami decides that if he can gather the courage, mayhaps he can tell Toshi his thoughts; his regrets, his sadness.

          Truly, a coward.

          It takes him a moment more before he continues, smiling with a sense of weariness that comes as one who’s been with their thoughts for too long, met with so many others before him since his time in the Throne of Heroes. ❝Yes,❞ Isami says, his voice thick and heavy, ❝if that is your wish, and what you want, Toshi, I will not stop you.❞ He doesn’t think he has the right anymore... or rather, did he ever have that right? Isami is sorry that such an honorable man like Toshi is friends... brothers, with someone like him.