💚🔩

It has been four weeks since Hijikata and the Shinsengumi left to travel North toward the sea for a sting operation. 

It’s obviously very serious business, but you can’t help but pout at your phone, which is notably lacking notifications from a certain someone. The best you could settle for was asking Yamazaki how everything was going, and his responses weren’t exactly refreshing and welcome; one-word replies of “good” or a simple thumbs up emoji were what you had to settle with until Hijikata could actually respond. 

It’s been radio silence for a few days now, however. It seems that the time has come for them to execute their operation, and all you can do is hope and wait everything turned out as expected. 

It’s been hard without him around, the house you both call a home is extremely drab and quiet when he’s not there. You have no motivation to cook whole meals, opting for walking down the street to the corner store and getting boxed lunches; it’s one of the few times of day you get out of the house, too. 

You don’t necessarily let him control your life, it’s not usually this debilitating, but something about this trip didn’t let you rest easily. 

You made your rounds around the home to make sure every entrance was fastened shut. “It’s about that time I guess, he didn’t text me today either, huh?” You pull out your phone to no avail. You set it down beside your desk, hopefully the screen will light up and disturb your sleep with a lovely notification. You walked toward the shoji leading outside to the very small courtyard in your home. You look up at the moon beaming through the foliage, scattering casts of its light everywhere. “Let’s see if your stash is still where I remember it, Toshi.” You chuckle and walk next door to the guest room. Thoughtfully, you head to the closet and rummage inside the spare futon you both have; “I know you too well, it seems.” You allocate and stare at his emergency pack of Mayoboro Reds. You return to the doorway and commence your ritual, flicking the bottom of the pack before gently gosling a stick between your lips straight from the box. You always had a lighter handy just in case he needs one, but it’s just you tonight. 

The smoke starts to dance and wisp away into the night. Smoking is a rare indulgence for you, but you just need to feel closer to him. You fight the urge to cough as you burn and puff through the harshest tobacco taste imaginable. “My eyes are watering, damn cigarette.” You spat and stomped it out, quickly dismissing the welling emotions behind them. “Nothing today either, it seems. I suppose it’s time for bed.” You stare regrettably at the smudge on the floor, wishing you hadn’t put that out yet - directly on the wooden floor, for that matter. It was a problem for future you to deal with. You turned your back on the bittersweet reminder you left for yourself tomorrow, weakly sliding the door shut behind you.