A/N: New fic~
I'm not really sure what to say in this note ^^; This was kind of my attempt to write a humor fic, so it'll probably be kind of...awkward. I'll get better. With hope.
You might not get this fic at first, since it's a little bit odd. I'll explain it at the bottom if you're still confused once you finish it.
Actually, for those who have listened to the "Shinsengumi: Torimono Hikae" Drama CD/played Hakuouki: Yuugiroku you'll probably get it very quickly XD
...I abuse dividing sections '-'
Another special thanks to Tokio_Fujita on LJ for her translations~ Always appreciated~
Five...four...three...two...one.
The door slid closed. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, before melting away to nothingness as the person vanished.
Okita Souji moved as swift as a leopard, pausing to make sure nobody was watching him. When he was sure not a soul was there, he made his move.
His fingers pressed carefully against the wood of the door, before pushing it open and carefully sliding it shut again. Souji then stopped, and surveyed the room in front of him.
It was, as expected, quite neat, save for the writing desk in the corner. The barest trace of an ink splatter stained the wood; crumpled paper littered the corners of the desk. The brushes were still darkened with black ink at the ends. The inkstick was lying on the corner of the inkstone; a trace amount of powdered ink dusted the rim of the stone before gradually dampening down to fresh ink. Below the inkstone was even more crumpled paper dotted with frustrated brushstrokes.
And in the center of the desk was his prize—a small stack of papers, bound into a small book with string. He leaned over and picked it up, reading the characters delicately written across the green cover. A sly smirk broke across his face. This was far too easy.
Souji lifted up the papers, and carefully tucked it in his kimono after binding them with some string. From his kimono he withdrew a book of equal color and size. He picked up a brush from the desk, and used some of the still-wet ink to copy the exact same characters from the front page of the original onto the copy, in the same style of handwriting. Souji set the fake on the desk and dropped the brushes back down on the desk, satisfied with his work. From far away, the two copies would be completely identical.
On the surface, anyway.
He silently slipped out of the room, and quietly closed the sliding door. Souji returned to his own quarters, before taking out the stolen pages and flipping through it. A sly smile spread across his lips. He was going to have some fun.
The next morning, a dashing young man with long black hair returned back from business. He sighed as he returned to his quarters, and set his swords on the stand. He removed his coat, and finally sat back down on his cushion, breathing relief.
After a day of a hard work, he needed to unwind. Hijikata Toshizou sat back down on his seat, and ground more ink from his inkstick. While he was doing so, he sifted through the stack of papers on his desk, attempting to find the place where he had left off.
Aside from the cover page, the rest of the papers in the book were blank.
Confused, he sifted through them again. Had he made some mistake? He then turned and searched through t he rest of his desk for the correct book. But no other turned up.
He picked up the book and examined it. Shocked, he realized that although it was close, the words were not written in his hand. Taking a closer look, he realized that his brushes had been disturbed from their original place.
Something had entered his quarters when he had not been in, and had taken the book that had been on his desk, leaving a fake.
Hijikata flipped through a list of candidates through his head. Heisuke, Shinpachi, and Harada were definitely out. They wouldn't have the nerve to enter his room. He doubted it would be Saitou, either. He was fairly sure that Kondou wouldn't sneak in and leave a replacement without his permission. Which left only one other person…
Of course. Him.
He stood up and threw back the door. "Souji!" he swore. "You're going to be on cleaning duty for the next year when I find you!"
"Hey, Hajime-kun."
Souji casually pulled back the door to Saitou's room. "I've got something good for you."
"What?" Saitou didn't even bother to look up, his brush moving swiftly across the white page. "I'm very busy right now, Souji. Could you come back later?"
"How cold," he chuckled, before sitting down on the floor. "You should take a break sometimes. No, you'll want this, Hajime-kun: Hogyoku Haiku Collection."
Saitou's brow crinkled in confusion. "Poetry? I don't have the time to be reading haiku by some unknown author right now. You might, seeing how you spend your entire day playing with children. "
"'Some unknown author'? Are you quite sure of that, Hajime-kun? Hogyoku is pretty well known around here. Well, I suppose he goes by a different name," Souji thoughtfully added.
Distantly, the sound of a door opening and closing sounded. "Whoops. Looks like Master Hogyoku is back. I'd better be leaving. He won't be too happy to see me." Souji gave Hajime a wink before departing.
Almost twenty minutes after Souji left, Saitou received another visitor. "Vice Commander," Saitou said, surprised. He set down his brush. "I thought you went out with Captain Kondou."
"I just got back. Moreover, did you see Souji after I talked to you this morning?"
"Souji? He just left," Saitou responded.
"Oh, great." Hijikata gave an annoyed sigh under his breath. "What did he want with you?"
"I believe he was here bothering me about…haiku by a poet named Hogyoku, I think."
Hijikata's face turned ashen. "H-haiku?" he nervously asked. "Did he say anything else about it?"
"I believe he asked me if I wanted to read it. Naturally, I declined, seeing that I have quite a bit of paperwork to finish."
"Saitou."
"Yes?"
"Whatever Souji says, don't read haiku by that poet."
"…Understood."
"Good." Hijikata stepped out of the room. "That's all. Keep up the good work, Saitou." He slid the door closed, and his footsteps faded off into the distance.
Saitou sat there for a few moments, before returning to his paperwork. It was only after he had finished half of his stack did he realize something.
"Hey, Sou-chan, what will we play today?" A small girl piped up. "Sou-chan, Sou-chan!"
"I got it," he laughed, ruffling the child's hair. "How about I read to all of you?"
"Yeah!" the neighborhood children cheered up. "I want to hear Sou-chan's story!"
He laughed again. "No, it's not my story this time." Souji took out a small, string-bound book from his kimono and ruffled through the pages. "How about I read you some haiku written by a dear poet friend of mine? His name…is Hogyoku."
Fuming, Hijikata stormed down the hallways of the headquarters, flinging open doors to check for a certain person. When he turned up empty-handed again, he gritted his teeth in anger and stormed back to his room.
He noticed something new on the writing desk as he reentered his room—a sheet of paper. Hijikata picked up the sheet of paper and read the characters scripted across the page. When he was finished, he slammed the paper back down on the desk, the vein in his forehead throbbing.
"SOUJI! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
Hey, Hijikata-san,
The children thanked me for bringing them such lovely haiku to read today. Don't get so angry, Hogyoku-sama. After all, "with company, there will be no boredom, even in spring showers."(来た人にもらひあくひや春の雨).
It started to rain later.
So we've reached the end~
Anyway, here's the little explanation: Hijikata wrote haiku as a hobby under the penname "Hogyoku". And yes, he did so in real life too! Of course, in Hakuouki, Souji totally pokes fun at it when he finds out xD You have to listen to the drama CD if you want to hear more. It's really funny.
The haiku listed was one that Hijikata really wrote. "Kita hito ni mora hi aku hi ya haru no ame" is the romanization of it, if you want to count all seventeen syllables of it.
Also, if you'd like to provide some advice on how to write a better humor fic, then please do. This one...is not that great right now, and I'd like to improve.
...Please Review...