"K-light," AU modern Shinsengumi

"K-light," highly experimental piece, AU modern-day Shinsengumi.

Here goes.

------------

Kyoto
Kan'bu Era, Year 21
The streets of Nishijin were a sea of flashing red lights. Mitsujima
Atsuo, the famous outspoken, iconoclastic writer, had finally snapped:
arming himself and his handful of students, he had broken into the
estate of a rich silk merchant, and was broadcasting a list of demands
over the city-wide intranet.


Every hand held device, laptop, desktop was illuminated by the
portrait of the bare chested muscular artist with a bandanna tied
around his head. A large two story flat screen monitor outside the
Shimabara pleasure hotel drew curious crowds to the best-selling
authors. Mitsujima's still eyes gazed into the souls of his audience
as he repeated over and over again, "Where is the soul of Japan? Can
we let the American States and the other nations of the world treat us
in such a way? Do not let them plunder our sacred land, do not let
them trample on our warrior's spirit! Only the brave can follow me
into the glorious red sun!" Although the image of Mitsujima was
inanimate it had seemed as if molten lava was swirling in his eyes and
his usually serene voice was now thick with rage.

The police were barely able to keep the public at bay, when an HX-12
Wasp, one of the newly developed, lithe hover-transport aircraft in
the service of the Japanese Empire, landed in the clearing mid-street,
behind the police lines. Its plain, serpentine gray fuselage bore the
five-petaled hollyhock insignia of the shogun, and on the tail boom,
where the service branch would be named, there was instead one word,
which immediately drove the crowd into a frenzy:

Shinsengumi.

The rear ramp clattered to the pavement with a thud as the roar of the
engines died down to a whine and then a whisper. Heavily armed men in
gray Kamirion body armor rushed out, boots pounding the blackness of
the pavement. From head to toe, they were the pinnacle perfection in
urban warfare: Kawanishi AR-52 heavy assault rifles, frag and flash
grenades, and Hosoya PP52 9 millimeter pistols with AP
(armor-piercing) rounds. When twelve men had piled out of the craft,
one more followed. Unlike the rest of them, whose faces were hidden
behind visored masks, he only wore a cheek protector, one of the few
hand-me-downs still present and in use from old samurai armor. His
eyes were intense, and if one looked closely, they would be able to
see wisps of dark hair poking out from under his tightly-laced helmet.
He hefted an AR-52 with a scope the likes of which even the well-paid
and supplied Kyoto Metro Police Department had never seen before.
Wanting to seize the moment, Captain Onodera, the officer on duty,
strode over to the man.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hijikata Isamu?"

The man turned to Onodera. His voice felt like it belonged in the
depths of some ancient shrine. It was deep and more piercing than the
highest-velocity cop-killer round.

"Reporting as ordered."

Onodera shivered, then attempted to regain some form of composure.
"Eager to see what Aizu's finest can do."

Hijikata said nothing. Raising his gloved left hand, he swept it in a
rapid, downward arc, and before Onodera had time to blink, the
thirteen men were gone.

*****

Inside the estate, Mitsujima was already becoming more and more shrill.

"Where the hell is that damn Aizu Katsumori!" Mitsujima referred, of
course, to Matsudaira Katsumori, the young governor of Kyoto. A
relative newcomer to the political scene, the young Lord Matsudaira
had soon reestablished order in the murder-prone and disaster-rife
Imperial District of Kyoto, and this had largely remained the case
until Mitsujima's act of insanity. At his booted feet, Kinunoya
Zen'emon, the owner of the estate, cowered in terror. He had always
been a careful man, and one to avoid the tangle of politics, but this
was now his problem, in a very real and immediate sense.

"If he doesn't show up IN PERSON in the next hour, you know damn well
what's going to happen, Kinunoya. And believe me..." he lowered the
muzzle of his rifle against the temple of Okatsu, Kinunoya's bound and
gagged wife, "It won't be pretty..."

Meanwhile, outside, two of Mitsujima's students paced beside the
barred and barricaded gate. They were rather young and had been easily
taken in by their idealistic teacher's dreams of a grand new order led
directly by the emperor himself, but somehow they were conflicted
about their teacher's course of action. Lazily, they chatted in hushed
tones about girlfriends and literary genres, hardly noticing what was
fast approaching from behind.

****

Hijikata and his men had quickly scaled the estate's outer walls and
with camouflage on, were rapidly advancing through the rock garden.
Over the secure neural intranet, Hijikata gave his orders, as quickly
and quietly as though he were actually speaking.

"Nakano, go left and take the rear. Set up with your grenades and make
damn well sure no one gets through that exit alive, even if that
includes you."

"Sir!" On the heads-up readout generated by his ocular implants,
Hijikata could see one blue light flash and then wink out in
acknowledgement.

"Hirata, you take right flank and get the side entrance. When you hear
the signal, slash the throat of the bastard who's there, and from then
on do like Nakano and be ready to blow the suckers to Jodo if you have
to."

"Sir!" One more light flashed and then winked off. Ten left, Hijikata
went faster.

"Ioki, you're on left point; take your squad and provide overwatch at
the main building. Tatsuno, you're on point with me, we'll take out
these two chickens at the door and then head for the final push on the
house together with Ioki's squad." Ten lights flashed and then winked
out. "Ready with Phase A now."

Hijikata slung the rifle securely over his back, and tightened the
strap. With practiced ease, he withdrew two slim, palm-length blades
from his waist belt, which, though not connected to his camouflage,
were still a very dim gray, barely visible in the shadows of the tall
bamboo plants by the wall. He breathed in, then out. One final time,
he checked his chronometer-- 1300 hours Japan Standard time-- then the
weather. Gentle breeze, negligible speed. Still, he had to compensate.
Barely, just barely, he shifted his aim, and as one of the two fools
manning the gate bent over to tie his ill-fitting boots, Hijikata
leapt out, flicking the blades out from between his fingers; one
downward, severing the first man, the other one tearing, vertically,
between the eyes of the other man, sending him backward in a gurgling
mass of deadweight. Continuing the motion of his hand, he swept back
to the pistol on his right hip, practically ripping it out of its
holster as he moved to empty one, then two silenced shots, finishing
off the chickens at the gate once and for all.

Hijikata had no need to see his men, he could feel them, both over the
ocular implants, and also from years of experience with these raids.
Reholstering the pistol, he grabbed his rifle. It was almost time. Two
lights flashed on his heads-up display. Nakano and Hirata were ready.

The house was spacious, but through the scope on his rifle, Hijikata
could see through it all; he could see all the dozen or so men inside
the mansion, the four or so hostages; all of it was as plain as day to
him. Much as he'd want to take point himself, he had to stay outside
and do what he was equipped for: make the final call and shot.

"All exits secure. Squad Zero-One, prepare for frontal assault."
*********

Inside, Mitsujima was fast losing the last vestiges of his patience.
"WHERE is Matsudaira Katsumori? What is taking him so long? Can he no
longer come out of his office at Kurotani without the help of his
concubines? Perhaps we should get a real man to run this city, not
some snot-nosed aristocratic brat! Kinunoya, it's going to be YOUR
head on a pike over your OWN door! And as long as I'm at it, I might
as well make the first underlining of my point-- starting with her!"
The dark muzzle of Mitsujima's rifle swept toward Okatsu.

It's said that in times of immense stress, the human body and psyche
cooperate in ways that cannot be predicted, even by the newest, most
advanced biotech computers. And that's precisely what drove Kinunoya,
in utter horror, to suddenly rise to his feet. At the same instant,
the first muffled groans were heard, as Hijikata's men swept closer
and closer to that last, innermost room. And then, without even
thinking, before the rifle finished its arc, Kinunoya threw himself
onto Mitsujima, which in turn threw Hijikata's carefully calculated
surgical strike into disaster.

*****

Back at the gate, Hijikata was still tensing at the scope of his
rifle, waiting for a clear shot to take Mitsujima down. Hijikata could
clearly make out Mitsujima's figure, distorted through the
interference of the walls, but suddenly, one of the other figures rose
up and leapt onto Mitsujima. By the look of it, it was none other than
Kinunoya, the man that Hijikata was supposed to try to save.

Take the shot? Don't take the shot? For a split second, Hijikata's
conscience about killing an innocent man conflicted with his lifetime
drive to wipe out diseased, garbage-spouting scum like Mitsujima. But
only for a moment. Any other man would've hesitated longer, but he was
not any other man. He was Lieutenant Colonel Hijikata Isamu, Commander
of the Aizu Special Attack Force Shinsengumi, and if taking out one
innocent man was the price of victory, then so be it.

With practiced ease, he primed his rifle, took one deep breath, and fired.

*I'm sorry, Kinunoya. May you live forever in Paradise*

*Mitsujima, may you be flayed alive for ten thousand kalpa in the land
of the dead*

****

Inside, Mitsujima was struggling, trying to free himself of Kinunoya's
crazed, frenzied scratching and clawing. He only felt a burning
sensation on his left temple for a moment, and then the world went
black...

Okatsu screamed, and at that instant, the door flew off its hinges
with a crash, and ten men in dark body armor burst into the room.
"Aizu Special Attack Force Shinsengumi Squad Zero-One! Surrender or be
destroyed without mercy!" Mitsujima's surviving students in the room,
still shaken from watching their master fall in a bloody heap, seemed
to slowly crumple, before retching the meager contents of their
starving bowels violently onto the tatami mats.

Ioki directed a text transmission back to Hijikata, at the gate.
"Hostages secured minus one, sir."

Hijikata received the transmission and then promptly decloaked. Even
at this price, the mission was accomplished. He returned a
transmission, this time to all units. "Well done, team. Gather up the
hostages and prisoners, and rally at the front gate."

Twelve lights blinked and then winked off. Mission accomplished.
*****

Outside, Captain Onodera was still standing by the Wasp, stunned, when
the front gate of the estate opened, and out came thirteen men, three
former hostages, and five prisoners. Before he could ask any
questions, Hijikata did the talking. Handing over the former hostages
to Onodera's men, he gave a curt nod.

"Mitsujima's dead. Kinunoya got in the way of my shot, and while
unfortunate, his sacrifice ensured Mishima's demise. Get your men to
clean up the place, Onodera. We're taking the survivors for questioning."

The twelve men herded their prisoners into the Wasp just as
efficiently as they had emerged from it. Hijikata bowed curtly once
more, and then joined them within. The dull hum of the engines soon
grew into a whine and then a roar, and Onodera had to cover his ears
as the aircraft rose straight up into the air, before zooming off
southward, no doubt toward the base at Mibu.

"Are we ever up shit creek now..."

Brilliant! Bravo & Encore! I am envious. Such writing skills.

--- In SHQ_Spy_Division@yahoogroups.com, "M." wrote:
>
> "K-light," highly experimental piece, AU modern-day Shinsengumi.
>
> Here goes.
>
> ------------
>
> Kyoto
> Kan'bu Era, Year 21
> The streets of Nishijin were a sea of flashing red lights. Mitsujima
> Atsuo, the famous outspoken, iconoclastic writer, had finally snapped:
> arming himself and his handful of students, he had broken into the
> estate of a rich silk merchant, and was broadcasting a list of demands
> over the city-wide intranet.
>
>
> Every hand held device, laptop, desktop was illuminated by the
> portrait of the bare chested muscular artist with a bandanna tied
> around his head. A large two story flat screen monitor outside the
> Shimabara pleasure hotel drew curious crowds to the best-selling
> authors. Mitsujima's still eyes gazed into the souls of his audience
> as he repeated over and over again, "Where is the soul of Japan? Can
> we let the American States and the other nations of the world treat us
> in such a way? Do not let them plunder our sacred land, do not let
> them trample on our warrior's spirit! Only the brave can follow me
> into the glorious red sun!" Although the image of Mitsujima was
> inanimate it had seemed as if molten lava was swirling in his eyes and
> his usually serene voice was now thick with rage.
>
> The police were barely able to keep the public at bay, when an HX-12
> Wasp, one of the newly developed, lithe hover-transport aircraft in
> the service of the Japanese Empire, landed in the clearing mid-street,
> behind the police lines. Its plain, serpentine gray fuselage bore the
> five-petaled hollyhock insignia of the shogun, and on the tail boom,
> where the service branch would be named, there was instead one word,
> which immediately drove the crowd into a frenzy:
>
> Shinsengumi.
>
> The rear ramp clattered to the pavement with a thud as the roar of the
> engines died down to a whine and then a whisper. Heavily armed men in
> gray Kamirion body armor rushed out, boots pounding the blackness of
> the pavement. From head to toe, they were the pinnacle perfection in
> urban warfare: Kawanishi AR-52 heavy assault rifles, frag and flash
> grenades, and Hosoya PP52 9 millimeter pistols with AP
> (armor-piercing) rounds. When twelve men had piled out of the craft,
> one more followed. Unlike the rest of them, whose faces were hidden
> behind visored masks, he only wore a cheek protector, one of the few
> hand-me-downs still present and in use from old samurai armor. His
> eyes were intense, and if one looked closely, they would be able to
> see wisps of dark hair poking out from under his tightly-laced helmet.
> He hefted an AR-52 with a scope the likes of which even the well-paid
> and supplied Kyoto Metro Police Department had never seen before.
> Wanting to seize the moment, Captain Onodera, the officer on duty,
> strode over to the man.
>
> "Lieutenant Colonel Hijikata Isamu?"
>
> The man turned to Onodera. His voice felt like it belonged in the
> depths of some ancient shrine. It was deep and more piercing than the
> highest-velocity cop-killer round.
>
> "Reporting as ordered."
>
> Onodera shivered, then attempted to regain some form of composure.
> "Eager to see what Aizu's finest can do."
>
> Hijikata said nothing. Raising his gloved left hand, he swept it in a
> rapid, downward arc, and before Onodera had time to blink, the
> thirteen men were gone.
>
> *****
>
> Inside the estate, Mitsujima was already becoming more and more
shrill.
>
> "Where the hell is that damn Aizu Katsumori!" Mitsujima referred, of
> course, to Matsudaira Katsumori, the young governor of Kyoto. A
> relative newcomer to the political scene, the young Lord Matsudaira
> had soon reestablished order in the murder-prone and disaster-rife
> Imperial District of Kyoto, and this had largely remained the case
> until Mitsujima's act of insanity. At his booted feet, Kinunoya
> Zen'emon, the owner of the estate, cowered in terror. He had always
> been a careful man, and one to avoid the tangle of politics, but this
> was now his problem, in a very real and immediate sense.
>
> "If he doesn't show up IN PERSON in the next hour, you know damn well
> what's going to happen, Kinunoya. And believe me..." he lowered the
> muzzle of his rifle against the temple of Okatsu, Kinunoya's bound and
> gagged wife, "It won't be pretty..."
>
> Meanwhile, outside, two of Mitsujima's students paced beside the
> barred and barricaded gate. They were rather young and had been easily
> taken in by their idealistic teacher's dreams of a grand new order led
> directly by the emperor himself, but somehow they were conflicted
> about their teacher's course of action. Lazily, they chatted in hushed
> tones about girlfriends and literary genres, hardly noticing what was
> fast approaching from behind.
>
> ****
>
> Hijikata and his men had quickly scaled the estate's outer walls and
> with camouflage on, were rapidly advancing through the rock garden.
> Over the secure neural intranet, Hijikata gave his orders, as quickly
> and quietly as though he were actually speaking.
>
> "Nakano, go left and take the rear. Set up with your grenades and make
> damn well sure no one gets through that exit alive, even if that
> includes you."
>
> "Sir!" On the heads-up readout generated by his ocular implants,
> Hijikata could see one blue light flash and then wink out in
> acknowledgement.
>
> "Hirata, you take right flank and get the side entrance. When you hear
> the signal, slash the throat of the bastard who's there, and from then
> on do like Nakano and be ready to blow the suckers to Jodo if you have
> to."
>
> "Sir!" One more light flashed and then winked off. Ten left, Hijikata
> went faster.
>
> "Ioki, you're on left point; take your squad and provide overwatch at
> the main building. Tatsuno, you're on point with me, we'll take out
> these two chickens at the door and then head for the final push on the
> house together with Ioki's squad." Ten lights flashed and then winked
> out. "Ready with Phase A now."
>
> Hijikata slung the rifle securely over his back, and tightened the
> strap. With practiced ease, he withdrew two slim, palm-length blades
> from his waist belt, which, though not connected to his camouflage,
> were still a very dim gray, barely visible in the shadows of the tall
> bamboo plants by the wall. He breathed in, then out. One final time,
> he checked his chronometer-- 1300 hours Japan Standard time-- then the
> weather. Gentle breeze, negligible speed. Still, he had to compensate.
> Barely, just barely, he shifted his aim, and as one of the two fools
> manning the gate bent over to tie his ill-fitting boots, Hijikata
> leapt out, flicking the blades out from between his fingers; one
> downward, severing the first man, the other one tearing, vertically,
> between the eyes of the other man, sending him backward in a gurgling
> mass of deadweight. Continuing the motion of his hand, he swept back
> to the pistol on his right hip, practically ripping it out of its
> holster as he moved to empty one, then two silenced shots, finishing
> off the chickens at the gate once and for all.
>
> Hijikata had no need to see his men, he could feel them, both over the
> ocular implants, and also from years of experience with these raids.
> Reholstering the pistol, he grabbed his rifle. It was almost time. Two
> lights flashed on his heads-up display. Nakano and Hirata were ready.
>
> The house was spacious, but through the scope on his rifle, Hijikata
> could see through it all; he could see all the dozen or so men inside
> the mansion, the four or so hostages; all of it was as plain as day to
> him. Much as he'd want to take point himself, he had to stay outside
> and do what he was equipped for: make the final call and shot.
>
> "All exits secure. Squad Zero-One, prepare for frontal assault."
> *********
>
> Inside, Mitsujima was fast losing the last vestiges of his patience.
> "WHERE is Matsudaira Katsumori? What is taking him so long? Can he no
> longer come out of his office at Kurotani without the help of his
> concubines? Perhaps we should get a real man to run this city, not
> some snot-nosed aristocratic brat! Kinunoya, it's going to be YOUR
> head on a pike over your OWN door! And as long as I'm at it, I might
> as well make the first underlining of my point-- starting with her!"
> The dark muzzle of Mitsujima's rifle swept toward Okatsu.
>
> It's said that in times of immense stress, the human body and psyche
> cooperate in ways that cannot be predicted, even by the newest, most
> advanced biotech computers. And that's precisely what drove Kinunoya,
> in utter horror, to suddenly rise to his feet. At the same instant,
> the first muffled groans were heard, as Hijikata's men swept closer
> and closer to that last, innermost room. And then, without even
> thinking, before the rifle finished its arc, Kinunoya threw himself
> onto Mitsujima, which in turn threw Hijikata's carefully calculated
> surgical strike into disaster.
>
> *****
>
> Back at the gate, Hijikata was still tensing at the scope of his
> rifle, waiting for a clear shot to take Mitsujima down. Hijikata could
> clearly make out Mitsujima's figure, distorted through the
> interference of the walls, but suddenly, one of the other figures rose
> up and leapt onto Mitsujima. By the look of it, it was none other than
> Kinunoya, the man that Hijikata was supposed to try to save.
>
> Take the shot? Don't take the shot? For a split second, Hijikata's
> conscience about killing an innocent man conflicted with his lifetime
> drive to wipe out diseased, garbage-spouting scum like Mitsujima. But
> only for a moment. Any other man would've hesitated longer, but he was
> not any other man. He was Lieutenant Colonel Hijikata Isamu, Commander
> of the Aizu Special Attack Force Shinsengumi, and if taking out one
> innocent man was the price of victory, then so be it.
>
> With practiced ease, he primed his rifle, took one deep breath, and
fired.
>
> *I'm sorry, Kinunoya. May you live forever in Paradise*
>
> *Mitsujima, may you be flayed alive for ten thousand kalpa in the land
> of the dead*
>
> ****
>
> Inside, Mitsujima was struggling, trying to free himself of Kinunoya's
> crazed, frenzied scratching and clawing. He only felt a burning
> sensation on his left temple for a moment, and then the world went
> black...
>
> Okatsu screamed, and at that instant, the door flew off its hinges
> with a crash, and ten men in dark body armor burst into the room.
> "Aizu Special Attack Force Shinsengumi Squad Zero-One! Surrender or be
> destroyed without mercy!" Mitsujima's surviving students in the room,
> still shaken from watching their master fall in a bloody heap, seemed
> to slowly crumple, before retching the meager contents of their
> starving bowels violently onto the tatami mats.
>
> Ioki directed a text transmission back to Hijikata, at the gate.
> "Hostages secured minus one, sir."
>
> Hijikata received the transmission and then promptly decloaked. Even
> at this price, the mission was accomplished. He returned a
> transmission, this time to all units. "Well done, team. Gather up the
> hostages and prisoners, and rally at the front gate."
>
> Twelve lights blinked and then winked off. Mission accomplished.
> *****
>
> Outside, Captain Onodera was still standing by the Wasp, stunned, when
> the front gate of the estate opened, and out came thirteen men, three
> former hostages, and five prisoners. Before he could ask any
> questions, Hijikata did the talking. Handing over the former hostages
> to Onodera's men, he gave a curt nod.
>
> "Mitsujima's dead. Kinunoya got in the way of my shot, and while
> unfortunate, his sacrifice ensured Mishima's demise. Get your men to
> clean up the place, Onodera. We're taking the survivors for
questioning."
>
> The twelve men herded their prisoners into the Wasp just as
> efficiently as they had emerged from it. Hijikata bowed curtly once
> more, and then joined them within. The dull hum of the engines soon
> grew into a whine and then a roar, and Onodera had to cover his ears
> as the aircraft rose straight up into the air, before zooming off
> southward, no doubt toward the base at Mibu.
>
> "Are we ever up shit creek now..."
>

So... will there be more of this story?

I mean I really thought this was great. I like war and weaponry
stuff. Just asking.

--- In SHQ_Spy_Division@yahoogroups.com, "M." wrote:
>
> "K-light," highly experimental piece, AU modern-day Shinsengumi.
>
> Here goes.
>
> ------------
>
> Kyoto
> Kan'bu Era, Year 21
> The streets of Nishijin were a sea of flashing red lights. Mitsujima
> Atsuo, the famous outspoken, iconoclastic writer, had finally
snapped:
> arming himself and his handful of students, he had broken into the
> estate of a rich silk merchant, and was broadcasting a list of
demands
> over the city-wide intranet.

Well, M's first chapter is a tough act to follow.

Let's slow it down a bit :P

by the way, one of the theme songs for Kyoto-Twilight (K-light) is:
http://www.youtube.com/v/0YhFhbrgrH8&rel=1

The stress was twisting his muscles into knots. Tension gripped Okita
Soujiro's shoulders and neck. As the captain of the first unit walked
down the hallway of headquarters he nearly knocked over one of the
officers too slow to get out of his way as he walked into the gym.
Harada was kicking the boxing bag, so he went to the shooting range
instead.

He took off the ear muffs to hear the shots and hoped that with each
bullet he could erase Hijikata's words from his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What the fuck are you doing reading this trash?" Isamu threw the
print outs in Okita's face, "Where did you print them? At a café?"

"I'm studying the enemy," the younger man was emotionless as he stared
at Hijikata, "and to answer your question, yes the Himeya coffee house."

"They'll have to be inspected tomorrow, or perhaps closed down then.
These businesses with internet access know the rules about
disseminating incorrect information under the Homeland Security Act,"
Isamu folded his arms, "That bastard Mitsujima is in a refrigerator at
the basement of the Kyoto security department now where he can't spout
anymore poison to confuse the people."

Okita collected the papers, "Do you really disagree with him? Deep
down you agree and many warriors believe his words. They're coming and
we can't stop them…"

The Lieutenant Colonel shoved his subordinate back, "Don't compare me
to that Mitsujima! I disagree with any motherfucker who thinks they
can touch Kyoto when I'm _on_duty_."

"We will become impotent, obsolete Hijikata." Okita swallowed
and looked at the floor as his mind briefly acknowledged that leader
of the Shinsengumi has not touched him for some time.

"_On_duty_? Or when you are in full control of the city?"

Isamu's dark eyes locked onto Soujiro's as his voice became icy, "We
know our place under A-han's mandate. Don't speak those words in
public Okita."

Okita closed his eyes briefly if only to appreciate the delicate scent
of sandalwood which Hijikata used to perfume his clothes. For such a
fierce man, Isamu paid close attention to his appearance and was most
careful with his manners in front of representatives from A-han. Okita
was one of the few who knew what the Demon was really capable of when
at the height of his anger, but he was the only man who could satisfy
Isamu's lust as well.

"What is Nippon's future?" Okita looked out the window at the Aizu
Phoenix Unit helicopters moving slowly over the city in the darkness
like large silent predatory birds, "Mitsujima is not the only one who
will weaken our country from within. He has followers."

"Who will be dealt," Hijikata stood behind Soujiro, but refrained from
putting his chin on the young man's shoulder. Isamu shoved his hands
into his slacks, in a desperate attempt from running them across
Okita's tone chest and torso.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He tried to bring his focus back to emptying the standard issue
handgun into the target. Soujiro squeezed his eyes shut and heard the
whish of a new sheet being replaced over the target and pulled the
trigger. He ground his teeth, "We don't have a response to the
American States. We can't do anything…"

Another hand pushed down the gun. Okita opened his eyes, "Saitou?"
The captain of the third unit was unshaven and tired from spending the
entire night interviewing the witnesses and survivors of the incident.

"Soujiro, if you want to kill a member of the Shinsengumi, always aim
for the head. The body armor developed for us by the Temple of Light,
Hoko-in, would protect our vital organs." Saitou cocked his head at
the target.

Okita put down his weapon and looked up, "That son of a bitch Harada
must have replaced some of the targets."

Both captains stared at the life size, color image of their leader,
dressed in traditional attire peppered with bullet holes. In a way,
the paper representation was a shadow of the humble man a few of them
knew back at the Tama Regional Martial Arts Training Center.

The security camera recorded the image of one tall tan skinned man
with long hair held back in a pony tail and a slightly shorter man who
could pass as one of the fashion models plastered on billboards around
the city, if only he smiled more. The small device was a state of the
art closed circuit recorder which stored images and sound in the
miburo's headquarters.

Unbeknownst to the wolves these cameras also relayed valuable insight
to the offices of A-han.

The Shinsengumi, who made it their duty to watch over the city were
themselves being watched very closely.