ɢɪɴtama 銀魂 | ɪmaɢɪɴes

[ Saitou ]

Saitou Shimaru was not one to show affection. He didn't hate it or anything, but the years of solitude had certainly taken a toll on him, making any physical contact absent of killing intent highly uncomfortable for him.
So why, exactly, was his lover one of the most affectionate people to have ever lived?

Don't get him wrong. (Y/N) was the most adorable thing in the world to him and he loved her with absolutely everything he could ever offer. But he still couldn't help the jumps and flinches when she tried to show affection.

She would try to hold his hand; he would shyly slip it out of her grasp.

She would open up her arms for a loving embrace and he would take a small, almost unnoticeable step back.

Once she had even been brave enough to stand on her toes and lean forwards to peck him on the lips, but the moment she made contact with his mask, he had hastily shoved her away. He had hurriedly apologized through a series of frantic scribbling on his notebook, and she had simply smiled at him with that impossibly warm expression and told him that "it was okay."

But he knew it wasn't. He had seen that flash of hurt run through her eyes when he rejected her kiss. When he rejected her affection. When he rejected her. It was the most heartbreaking look he'd ever seen and knowing that he had been the one to cause that look just made it even more painful.

He had always wondered why she had chosen him. She could have chosen anyone else in the Shinsengumi. Yamazaki was plain, but he surely could have returned her affections normally. Hijikata and Okita weren't the types to initiate physical contact, but should they receive it, Hijikata would most likely return it begrudgingly with a crimson blush across his cheeks while Okita would probably let her do whatever the hell she wanted and not make much of a fuss. Yes, surely she would've been better off with one of them...

As he thought this, Saitou found himself at the training dojo. Several Shinsengumi members were there, the most obvious being the two people sparring in the middle of the crowd of onlookers. One was Okita himself and his opponent was someone Saitou recognized as a person in the First Division.

Okita moved gracefully, dodging any strikes made at him while simultaneously throwing ruthless attacks of his own. The victor of the match was obvious. Though everyone knew he would win, they still cheered when Okita's wooden sword stopped inches from his opponent's neck, the loudest cheer coming from, Saitou then noticed, his girlfriend who had been watching as she leaned against the wall. Okita lowered his weapon when (Y/N) approached him, eyes twinkling in awe over the battle as she waved her arms in the air with wild gesticulations, as if attempting to reenact what she had just seen with only those two limbs. Okita's expression remained unchanging but Saitou's years of practiced observation skills allowed him to see the corner of sadist's lips twitch in amusement at her obvious excitement. Okita respected Saitou and that respect was extended towards Saitou's girlfriend as well after observing how happy she made him. Then Saitou's heart momentarily stopped beating when his lover leapt forward to give Okita a congratulatory hug. Everyone knew of her to be overly affectionate, often marveling at the vast differences between her and Saitou, but it still caught many of the battle-hardened men off guard. Okita blinked in surprise at the sudden embrace, not quite sure if he should return it, then settled for a simple but familiar pat on the head. It wasn't much, but it still seemed to delight her as she looked up at him with a blinding smile.

Saitou's fists clenched tightly and, without even realizing it, he began to briskly make his way over to the center of the room. His footsteps caught (Y/N)'s attention and she released the First Division Captain to smile at him.
"Shimaru," she greeted cheerfully, "did you see Sougo-kun? Wasn't he cool? He's so strong! I wond-" She was cut off when Saitou's hand shot out to snatch her wrist and began to drag her out of the dojo and, more importantly, away from a certain sadist.

Okita tilted his head, unsure of what was transpiring and why before his eyes lit up in realization and he lifted his hand to give (Y/N) a brief wave for good luck as she was pulled farther and farther away from him.

Behind Saitou, (Y/N) sputtered in confusion. "Shimaru? What's wrong? Did something happen?" The orange-haired man didn't respond; obviously, he wouldn't with words but she was a bit put out when he didn't even bother to bring out his familiar notebook.

Soon the couple made it to his room where he quickly shut the door behind them. He gestured for her to take a seat, and she did so, though not without a few questioning glances at him. "So?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Why did you feel the need to drag me away from the dojo?"

His fingers twitched, and his hands raised to make a few panicky motions that she-regardless of how well she prided herself on understanding him and his gestures better than anyone else-just couldn't comprehend. "Wha-? Shimaru, I don't get it."

She saw his mouth move behind his mask and she imagined that he was biting his lip as he sometimes did when he was nervous. His hands then dropped and his posture slumped as if saying, "Oh, screw it," and he reached one hand up to pull down the mask and another to yank her towards him.

"Shima-mph!" Her eyes widened when she felt her lips delicately press against another very soft pair. She glanced up to find Saitou with his crimson eyes shut tightly, and she could feel his hands trembling at her shoulders. Her gaze softened and (e/c) orbs fluttered closed as well. Her arms raised and wrapped around his neck as she leaned forward to meld their lips even more.

Saitou had never felt anything so amazing. Her mouth moved gently against his own and he almost moaned at the sheer pleasure. Finally, unable to take anymore, he slowly pulled back, relishing the last few moments of the sweet kiss.

"S-Shimaru," she began, and she spoke his name with such a warm tone, looked up at him in the most caring way. "I-I don't know what to s-"

He brought her to his chest, his arms protectively going around her waist. She practically melted into him, and Saitou couldn't help but smugly think it his it was him to made her this way and not Okita or anyone else. Him.

He leaned forward, and his lips parted. (Y/N) stiffened when she felt his breath on her earlobe.

"I... I love you."

It was said so quietly, so lovingly that she thought she had misheard. When she registered his words, tears began to fall down her cheeks. Saitou panicked at the sight. He knew it was a terrible idea. What if his voice sounded weird? What if his breath smelled bad? Or, dear gods and goddesses, what if she didn't love him back?

Then, as if hearing his thoughts, she pounced on him, causing him to fall to the floor on his back. She straddled him, and his cheeks flushed at her action. But he caught sight of her eyes, and all thoughts of embarrassment were thrown out the window. Her gaze was filled with joy, relief, and complete adoration. "I love you!" she blurted back and she bent down to kiss his unguarded lips. "I love you." A kiss to his forehead. "I love you." A cute peck on the nose. "I love you." His cheek. "So, so much." Her lips pressed against both eyelids. "God, I love you." And she planted a clumsy kiss to his mouth.

His face was painted crimson by his raging blush, but he returned the kiss, understanding that all her restrained affection had now finally burst. His grip on her waist tightened.

Outside the room, stood a figure leaning against the door. A light smile played on his lips. "Way to go, Shimaru-nii-san," he murmured under his breath.

"Oi, Sougo, the hell are you doing? We have patrol."

For once, the sadist didn't give a snarky reply, only nodding and pushing himself off the door to follow his vice-commander.