SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW

Author: pratz

The Shinsengumi belongs to their nobility and may God bless Kurono Nanae for the PMK series. Thanks to Keane for the title. Thanks to dearest Mousey for betaing this.

As the mist fades, the story tells itself clearer. Follow me I'm still your Tambourine Author... Nyah, just kidding anyway. I welcome everyone who wants to put this silly fic on specific site. Flames and confusion shall be mailed to me and please not in this site. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 1

AD HUC TUA MESSIS IN HERBA EST

[never sell bear's skin before it is shot]

Someone was marching to Hijikata's office. The next second, the supervisor office's door was roughly opened with a loud noise.

"Saitou-san," Yamazaki greeted the man. He got nothing in return as the said man walked towards Hijikata.

"What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?"

Hijikata raised his head just to see the fuming face of Saitou Hajime, his colleague under the Investigation Section. He put down the file he'd been reading and gave a signal to Yamazaki to close the door.

"Sending this to me by fax," throwing papers to Hijikata's desk, Saitou continued. "You know I don't appreciate any jokes."

"Neither do I," there came the plain tone of Hijikata.

"Explain."

"I did—if you've read the fax I'd sent, of course."

"I'd read and I decided that it's ridiculous."

"Kind of."

Yamazaki sighed shortly. Saitou had known his boss for long enough as well as he knew the man. His two superiors enrolled to Investigation Section almost at the same time; Hijikata as a supervisor and Saitou as the commander.

"Fine," Saitou snapped in defeat. "I won't stand in your way. Do what you please, but I won't take any responsibility either."

"Deal."

"Who else know about this?"

"Only us. You, Yamazaki, and I."

"It'll be four," Saitou stated. "Due to your plan, the number will increase—I suppose."

"Aa."

"I hope you won't destroy anything by doing this," Saitou turned to leave, but his steps stopped in the middle of the office. "You're playing with demons, Hijikata."

"It's not a big deal for me," the supervisor's mouth curled into a devilish grimace. "I am also a demon."

Tennei, behind its beautiful face as the state's capital city, was a very gloomy and dirty city to live in. Between its skyscrapers and glamorous life style, a much more bitter world existed—a world of dark reality, a man wouldn't stay alive if he didn't carry out the most ancient law of earth; kill or be killed.

"No wonder this city is named Dark Heaven," Yamazaki murmured lowly. Due to Hijikata's command, he was in the middle of the city at the time.

In 12th Rainbow Street.

The place where the last murderer took its place.

"Ashura."

He swallowed once. Ashura. Takeda—the first victim and also the only survivor, said the name after he slipped from critical state and was able to speak about what had happened to him.

Thus, they had Ashura as an enemy here. Ashura. The Son of Demon. Sword wielder. Attacking only at Rainbow Street. Attacking Cops. Hogyouku.

All facts spiraled into one and only conclusion: there was a missing link.

His cell-phone vibrated.

"Yes, Hijikata-san?"

"Another victim's found."

Yamazaki's eyebrow twitched. "Where?"

"9th Rainbow Street. A teenage punk. Age 19 or so. According to the coroner report, he's killed at eight to eleven pm yesterday." A short sigh came from across.

"Ashura?"

"Ashura."

"So he's not only attacking cops, is he?" said Yamazaki. "I could be happy now. Hogyouku?"

"Positive."

The line was disconnected not too long after Hijikata confirmed that Saitou had sent down a small team to investigate the case. Formality, Hijikata commented.

The real thing would be done tonight.

12th Rainbow Street. Clouds were shadowing the eerie suburban as a long-haired man walked in the alley of cold buildings. The man drew the collar of his jacket snug to his neck. A soft puff escaped his mouth and thin steam escaped in its way out.

His shoulder brushed against a drunken man wearing head-band at the end of the alley.

"Oh sorry," the head-banded man said.

The long-haired man kept in silence for a while, then, "You have DH?"

"Whaaat?" the head-banded man smirked drunkenly. "Ooh... I get it. You want that thing, too? Bad boy, bad boy you a—"

Before he could finish his words, he was slammed to the wall. A small pack of grayish powder fell from his hand.

"You fucking maggot! What're you doing? I'll fuc—"

A sharp blade of arm-length knife was immediately on his throat.

"You have it. Give me all."

All of a sudden, a knee was landed on the long-haired man's stomach. Thrown behind, he was crushed against a pile of boxes nearby.

The head-banded man straightened himself. Pulling the fallen knife, he wiped the blood from his neck.

"I got you," said the head-banded man, "Ashura."

Saitou narrowed his eyes as he noticed that a 'don't disturb' sign was hanged at the interrogation room's door.

"Who's inside?" he asked one of his men nearby.

"Hijikata-san and Yamazaki, Saitou-san. Must be a big fish we caught if Hijikata-san's doing the interrogation himself."

"What fish?"

"A witness of the cop-killings—Yamazaki said."

Saitou let off a small 'hn' before walked to his office. "Tell me when they're done."

"Yes, Sir," his subordinate smiled nervously. "Though I'm not sure whether that witness will survive the interrogation or not."

Lighting a cigarette, Saitou smiled evilly. "He's lucky enough he's just a witness."

Inside the interrogation room, there were three men without any smiles at all. Yamazaki leaned onto the door, hands at his pants' pockets, and a big Band Aid plastered to his neck. Hijikata sat on a chair, his face gloomy and showed no emotion. The last person, a long-haired man, sat across Hijikata—handcuffed, face bleeding, and clothes-torn. His white shirt was tainted by blood from his temple.

Taking a deep breath, Hijikata spoke, "So, Ashura..."

"I don't understand what yo—"

"Of course you don't. How could a stupid ass who dared to attack a cop in disguise like you understa—"

"Only a coward will come in disg—"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to what older people say to you!" in a flash, Hijikata grabbed a fistful of the long-haired man's hair. Raising the man's face up, he smirked when he saw the man's face twisted in pain. "Such a nice face you have here. Unfortunately you don't have a nice brain inside your thick skull."

"You're so brave, Ashura," Yamazaki stated. "Last night you could have cut my head off. If only you did it, you don't have to be here and it's better because," Yamazaki noted the wound on the long-haired man's temple, "hell hats no fury on Hijikata-san."

"Thanks for the compliment," Hijikata mocked sarcastically.

"You're welcome, Sir."

"Serial killers should be smarter than you," Turning his attention back to the long-haired man, Hijikata lit a cigarette. Blowing the smoke to the man's face, he spoke in low voice. "You answered none of my questions in this three hours even though you know you're trapped. Nowhere to run, Ashura. Nowhere. You're a bird in the cage. If you're smarter, you should have told me wh—"

"What'll I get in return if I answered y—"

All so sudden, Hijikata slammed the man's face onto the table. A restrained yelp and a creaked sound mixed into one. Yamazaki grimaced as he saw blood trickled down from the table's surface to the floor. Hijikata's large hand held the long-haired man's head still.

"Never answer a question with another question, Ashura," the supervisor said coldly.

"Sir, I do think you shouldn't be that harsh. We cops should put human rights on the first pla—"

"The fucking human rights can go to hell or anywhere it wants!" Hijikata snapped. "Anyway, thanks for reminding me about that damn law. Well, Ashura, let's see if—"

"The name's Okita Souji," came a muffled voice from the long-haired man. Hijikata lessened the pressure of his hand so that his haul could speak clearer. "No family. No permanent living place. Twenty years old."

"Good," Hijikata raised Okita's head. "Okita, eh? Anything to tell me?"

"I don't fucking care what you want to do, shit ass, but hear me out... I might struggle if you want to kill me."

A hard slap landed on Okita's right cheek.

"That's a substitution for greeting."

Okita spat to the floor. "You really like to beat the hell out of me, don't you, Hijikata-san?" he said in mockery. "Is it because of hate? Or it is because I really turn you on, eh?"

A fist on his jaw sent Okita fly backward onto the wall next to Yamazaki. The long-haired man curled up in pain as blood trickled down from his mouth, nose, and ear.

"I left the rest to you, Yamazaki," Hijikata took his coat and donned it as if nothing had happened. "I haven't told Saitou yet—better to go now. I believe you know what you have to do afterwards."

"Yes, Sir."

With that, the supervisor left the room.

Yamazaki's eyes caught Okita's move on his left. Hijikata had really made the man into a mess. His memory replayed the last night's events like a movie. Okita lunged forward and knocked him off of his feet. Hijikata appeared all so sudden in the alley and captured Okita as the long-haired man's attention was divided. He remembered clearly how Hijikata hit the fugitive with his gun—hard, making the man collapse onto the dirty ground.

And here the Ashura story was ended—in no glory at all.

"Can you stand?"

"I don't need your help," Okita's response was so weak Yamazaki thought he was going to collapse once again.

Sighing softly, Yamazaki gave his hand to Okita. "You don't seem like you're afraid to die. Come on. I was told not to let you die."

Okita slapped Yamazaki's hand roughly. "Government's lapdog (1) plays an act, eh? Fuck you."

"You don't look like a horrible serial killer," he said. Sitting next to Okita, he handed his handkerchief. "Listen here. I'm not going to ask what your reason or motive is. Until now, your data and profile is only known by me and Hijikata-san."

"Just what the hell do you want? Okay, I'm the one who killed your comrades. Next, you take me here, beat me out, and now you throw all those shitty rants to me. If you want to kill me, go ahead!" Okita half-shouted the last sentence.

Yamazaki watched the prisoner in silence. As a cop, he had never met a captive like this Okita Souji. He punched the prisoner once—not too hard to make the long-haired man collapse. "You're desperate," said Yamazaki. "I've said I wasn't going to let you die that easy. Neither did Hijikata-san. We want to offer you something."

For the first time, Okita really paid attention to the cop.

"How is it, Okita Souji?"

Note:

(1) Some Sonjou [the people who stood for the Restoration, the name itself is a nick for Sonnou Joui—"hail the emperor, get off the barbarian"] actually called Shinsengumi as Bakufu's lapdog.