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“Here’s a good spot!”
He flashed her a grin while standing beside a sakura tree not too close to the park’s center, yet close enough to still feel like a part of the atmosphere. Its wood hard and brown with blossoms casting tremoring shadows broken apart by dappled light, made it ordeal for having shade that didn’t feel too overbearing.
“Mhm--” She comes running in her powder-blue flats, the soft blades of grass soft under her soles. He originally insisted on carrying the basket himself, but she won the argument in the end, saying that it suit her white summer dress and cardigan ensemble better.
Once he’s spread out the blanket under the tree, she starts unloading their lunch, which he stares at one by one with eager eyes. Organized bentou bearing secret delights from within, their transparent lids foggy from the heat of newly made food. He wondered how early she was up in the morning at the borrowed kitchen from the hotel for him not to notice, and had a good feeling about she had prepared for them both.
(He always has a good feeling.)
“Moou, it looks great!!” Izumi kneels beside her once all the containers are opened, revealing the wads of seasoned onigiri and rounds of inari sushi matched with
“I bought the dumplings this morning…” She murmurs beneath a blush, tucking her long blonde hair into two low pigtails across her chest.
“Still, all of it looks amazing,” He insists with chopsticks already in hand, but follows her lead first in pressing their palms for thanks before taking part in the feast.
Shinju eats two paces slower than Izumi does, taking more time to chew while keeping her gaze moving around the park’s vicinity. It made for a good vantage point, their vision uninterrupted by the cluster of trees or buildings that were scattered around the area. From here, they could catch a scene of everything, everything and everyone that had come to celebrate the changing of the seasons at such an unusual place.
The slight, cool breeze was warm by Hokkaido standards, and sent wafts of airy pink petals from their trees and into the hair of girlfriends, whose boyfriends held their phones or cameras at the ready to capture such fleeting moments. Parents chuckled in tenderness while their toddlers wobbled around and tried to catch the fluttering petals in their small, chubby hands. Friends shoved and teased at one another good-naturedly while sitting cross-legged on their picnic blankets, about who made which dango and whose recipie they must’ve stole for it to taste so good.
There was hope and good feelings all around.
When she thinks she’s seen all of it, her sky blue hues fall downwards onto her lap in self-reflection. She had those two things too, and even more with how blessed she’s been to return home from the war in one piece. Her own career was projected to grow as well, with all the effort and opportunistic decisions she has and will still put into it.
But to her, the most important thing was that he could have the same two things as well. Thanks to her, yes...but she could never take all the credit for how he got here, despite how heavily he emphasizes her part in it. She may have been his master, but he did his own part in the well and he did it damn well. So damn well that Shinju swore she wouldn’t’ve reached anywhere the prowess as a leader and as a warrior in her own right had she never forged him.
She uses a chance to snag one of the inari sushi to glance at him to the side. He held nothing of the adornments his sword warrior self would have worn: a sleek yet casual black blazer, the fitted deep red shirt, plus the navy jeans in place of his old maroon kimono and gray hakama. His haori, they left back at their apartment, which she had gone out of her way to buy a proper stand for in the closet, where it was left to hang in display.
Not that he doesn’t look fantastic, and not that his eyes don’t hold the same fervor for the moment as it always had, but there are things that he doesn’t tell her. And it’s alright--perfectly natural that they wouldn’t tell each other every lingering thought they entertained. But Shinju recognized the flicker of uncertainty that crossed his cerulean hues when she brought up the idea of coming here for a hanami in the first place. Unlike the many visitors this park received throughout the year, and especially during the sakura season, this held more importance to him than anyone could have possibly imagined.
The fact that she knows this is what makes her guilty about the idea in the first place. Insensitive, even. This was the last place he and Hijikata had seen one another before they parted for what seemed like eternity until she came along. Her intention was that they would have a good time together (but they always had a good time together, no matter where they went) and that it would be nice to see how the place’s changed since they last came. Obviously, Izuminokami had consented, but not without some moments of silent thought between her proposal and his answer that still haunted her up to now.
Was it really the right idea to come here? She’d done well to prepare their food, maybe as some way to make up for whatever ill feelings or memories could arise during their visit, at the very least--
“...Juu.” His voice cuts through her thoughts like a wave crashing on the sand after a long delay of baking sun, drifting her gaze back towards him. His chopsticks are bare and his eyes are on hers--and from how focused they are, she imagines he’s been looking at her already for quite some time.
“Is something wrong?”
He’s so good at catching her red-handed. Or so she likes to believe, since he’s told her she’s not that hard to read once you get to know her.
She swallows her piece of sushi before starting to answer.
“...Are you...having a good time?”
“Eh? Yeah.” Izumi blinks at the odd question she poses. His time could be better if she’d been a bit more talkative since they started eating, but…
“I was worried.” Juuchi is wary as she talks, a way he knows is characteristic of when she’s held inner turmoil for over a day without telling anyone.
The milky peach drink in her cup swirls gently as she continues, and it annoys him a bit as to how she’s stopped looking at him again.
“With what happened...you know.” Some of the place is a memory and some isn’t, with how things have been built or torn apart over the years the fortress has stood.
“I didn’t want to make you feel bad, I...just.” A sigh departs from her lips, and she finally returns the gaze he’s giving her.
“I wanted to give you good memories, in a way...being here for a good thing.” It feels so weak. It’s a picnic. A picnic compared to a painful separation. A picnic compared to nights of decisive planning between the men that stood here to decide on how they would ride out what would be a bitter end. A picnic compared to a lost hope.
The moment he starts to see her eyes start to waver, this time with her tender lips pressing tight--a sign that this wasn’t going to get any better anytime soon--he starts to speak.
“It isn’t all bad…” Izumi takes a look around for himself, and sees much of the sights she’s seeing, the warm sun in place of a heartless moon.
“Everyone here looks so happy. They’re with the people they love, you know? And they’ll get to go back home with them, and they’ll remember how much of a great time it was being here.” He knows she’s caught up listening to him, and shifts himself an inch closer.
“It is kind of different for me, since I’ve had memories of this place since before.” It’s hard to avoid the looming gray walls that enclose the park in the first place.
“But I thought for a bit…”
Izumi clasps his hand around hers.
“...and I realized if I didn’t have the guts to come here again to see how it is today, I wouldn’t be really moving forward from the past.” Shinju’s chest feels lighter and lighter as she stares at him. The way he inspires and reassures her all at once is still the same.
“I didn’t think I’d get to be here with you either. Or anywhere, actually.” He gives her a warm smile, reserved especially just for her, drawing his face closer and closer.
“I want to experience everything together.”
Shinju’s eyes boggle a bit as he raises her held hand to his lips for a small kiss. The color on her cheeks is several times darker than that of the petals that have drifted atop her head. At least he’s enjoying it now, huh.
But she starts to smile, breathing a soft laugh as his free hand finds a cup of tea, and he motions her to do the same.
“To the past and the future, ne?”
Juuchi’s dimpled smile returns as she raises her cup in a similar toast.
“To the past and the future.”