The sleeping man (Hakuouki modern AU - Hijikata)

Couperet

An hour.

Sixty minutes.

Three thousand six hundred seconds.

Sarah's eyes returned to that blasted phone screen. In an hour, Toshizō would pop by, probably tired to death after the past night's celebration. He had not returned home after she left, brewing in sake, feasting upon a well-deserved victory, but she trusted his friends to take care of him.

Saitō making it to semi-finals, and Okita quarters was an extraordinary show of skills. Sarah had been delighted for the academy, and a proud gleam shone in Toshizō's eyes when his team swarmed him in a hug that ended more like a dog pile. This night out was the consecration of many years of efforts, of late nights sweating and bandaging bruises. The glory of Shiei Hall, and the Hakuōki academy.

As the night wore on, Sarah had decided to call it a night and leave the men to their overflowing celebration. She hated herself for not being able to share more of the joy, and had actively avoided being cornered by Sanan about her private life; that man could make an oyster talk. Heart clenching, she had left the happy family behind, and retreated home.

Toshizō had been drunk enough to drop a sloppy – and very public – kiss on her lips. But today... today, he was sure to be a little more perceptive. Perhaps after a dozen aspirins.

The truth... the truth hurt. How would he handle it ?

So when the front door clanged shut, Sarah closed her eyes and set the steaming cup of tea upon the coffee table. She did not even turn around, awaiting the invasion of the man of her dreams. And, sure enough, there he stood, an overnight bag slung over his shoulders, slightly dishevelled and looking every bit like someone with dire lack of sleep. Tie askew, hair spiking where he'd probably combed them in frustration, shirt slightly crumpled, he looked as delectable as ever.

More approachable, as well, given his eyes sparkled with both fondness and uncertainty.

"I'm sorry I just seem to invite myself in your place."

Despite the sorrow that inhabited her heart, Sarah's lips quirked up.

"For someone so bold and commanding, you are adorably shy sometimes."

When his eyebrows met in the middle, she downright chuckled. As intimidating as he could seem, Toshizō wore his heart on his sleeve.

"I gave you a key," she stated, patting the sofa beside her. "You're always welcome here."

And she meant it. His features relaxed as he set the bag on the ground, and folded his long limbs beside her with a sigh. Despite the sofa, he always sat cross legged, as if occidental furniture was a hindrance rather than a commodity. A man of the past.

Could he have been hers ? Perhaps if she'd tried harder. Sarah claimed a quick kiss, savouring the softness of his lips before she poured another cup of tea, and handed it over.

"Ah, arigatō gozamaishita," he rumbled.

The lines of his face smoothed when he took a sip of his favourite brew.

"You're welcome," she smiled, taking in the sheer magnetic beauty of the man that had returned to her, for the first time since August, before 11 pm. For a moment, not much was said between them as they both savoured the sencha, a relaxing blend of the best Japanese spring recolt. As a British, Sarah definitely knew the value of fine tea, and it usually brought her peace. But not tonight.

She doubted she would ever be able to drink sencha again after...

"So," he cleared his throat. "Now that the nationals are done, I'm going to have a breather. What do you think of taking advantage of the sports days and plan a little outing ? I could take you to the onsen in Hakone, or in Hokkaido ?"