The sleeping man (Hakuouki modern AU - Hijikata)

Fireflies

Sarah and Toshizō joined the group anew and strolled along the main street, stopping at game stalls, a few heads amongst the throngs of colourful yukatas. Shinpachi made a fool of himself more than once, and Harada had to drag him away in a head lock so that he stopped loosing money. Shigeru, of course, tried his hand at catching gold fishes in a paper scooper.

Covered in water, he presented his catch to his proud father, earning a wink from the tall man.

"You've got your yukata all wet!" Masa scolded her son good-naturedly. Both Shigeru and his father shrugged at the same time, the mimetic move calling a smile to Sarah's lips.

"Bah, it will dry in no time."

Given the hot and humid weather, Sarah had no doubt it would.

"I think Shigeru is right. I'll probably fling myself in the river before the end of the day," she mused, fanning her face.

Toshizō bend over, a crease marring his forehead as he took in the colour of her skin. His hand hoovered slightly over her temple, fearful to make contact.

"Are you getting sunburnt ?"

Sunburnt ? She'd been so engrossed in lanterns, colourful stalls and new sensations – and perhaps, the gorgeous man at her arm - that she had overlooked how vibrant the sun was today.

"Ah, perhaps. I burn easily. Irish genes."

"Stay here," he ordered, darting off into the crowd.

Sarah watched him stride away with raised eyebrows, his purple yukata and dark hair disappearing from view in less than a minute. Harada chuckled by her side, hoisting up little Shigeru over his shoulders.

"What did just happen ?" she asked him.

"The Kami know, but he'll be back soon. That's Hijikata-san for you."

Sarah smiled; she was secretly fond of the man's dedication.

"He's quite all or nothing."

A silky voice echoed behind her as Sanan slid by her side.

"A pretty accurate definition of the man."

Sarah fidgeted on her feet, the cord chaffing between her toes becoming more uncomfortable by the hour.

"I don't understand how he moves so fast with those getas," she commented. "I'm having trouble with it."

Sanan's thin eyebrow lifted.

"It is pretty simple, Sarah-san. He doesn't wear them."

"Hijikata never put on shoes he cannot run in," Harada added, showing his own clad feet for good measure. His tabi socks sported a rubber bottom, which allowed to forgo the uncomfortable wooden platform. This time, Sarah laughed.

"Am I the only one who bothered to go full traditional ?"

Sanan shook his head.

"No. I, as well, would not dishonour tradition for modern contraptions."

Her eyes travelled to the others, finding only one pair of geta on Sanan's feet. And so, naturally, she resolved to have a look at her lover's feet when he would return. It took less than five minutes for Hijikata to find them again, a tickle of sweat running down his temple. He produced a wagasa – a paper and bamboo umbrella – for her to shield the sun.

"There," he said, "so you don't burn too badly."

Sarah's hand reached for the crafted item, dazed by the gentle smile of her knight in shining armour. So touched she was by the gesture that she could only utter a few words of plain gratitude. She thought someone snickered behind her; so lost she was in the contemplation of him that she completely ignored it. Then her brain kicked in, and her eyes travelled down to his feet. Finding tabi socks and a set of chords, she bent over to observe his footwear.