Title: Late August Bridge
Author: JC Sun
Category: PG-13 for bad words and shonen ai (saitou x sano) references. No explicit sexual content or even kisses.

Summary: Late August is the season for thunderstorms.

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If Saitou, Sano and Kenshin belonged to me, do you *think* I'd do like Nobuhiro Watsuki does and marry poor Kenshin off to Kaoru? Goddammit.

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Late August is the season for thunderstorms. After the fierce gusts started, after he'd had to clutch at his knapsack and the black clouds truly began to crowd the horizon, Saitou realized that he should have worn a hat or at least something that would have kept him semi-dry until he reached the police station. Now it was entirely too late to be thinking about these things because if he went back to the market and bought an umbrella, he'd be late for the afternoon express. And his umbrella -- his umbrella was . . .

He didn't have his umbrella anymore, and there was no use thinking about that. No use wishing otherwise, and the grass on either side of the road danced and leapt and bent underneath the fierce winds as if agreeing with him.

He really was getting old. Sentimental and soft -- imagining grass was agreeing with him. He'd never have had thoughts like that in the old days, and maybe the Ministry had been right. Maybe it was time for him to leave Tokyo; maybe he did need a break, and--

Maybe it was time for he and Tokio to talk. Wasn't that why he'd sent that boy, the one from the village, to her? To tell her that he did want a family now.

"Look who it is. That ferret-faced coward of a police officer."

With a small twitch of the mouth, Saitou reflected that yes, only a force of nature could make the hair on rooster boy's hair bend, albeit ever so slightly. It would probably take a full-scale typhoon to lay that thing flat; the actors in the theatres could only hope that their make-up artists could vaguely imitate what Sanosuke's hair did naturally. But the wind on the bridge up ahead had already accomplished what no amount of combing or water could do: make the hair tilt at an angle instead of flying straight up.

Keeping his back straight, Saitou went around his former student, taking care not smack his sword against the railing of the narrow bridge as well as to keep his voice dryly ironic. "I'm flattered you came to say goodbye to me. I must finally have beaten some respect into your thick head. Unfortunately, ahou, I have no time to play along becau -- "

"You think I came all the way out here because I wanted to fucking say goodbye?" growled Sanosuke. Out of the corner of his eye, Saitou could see the white edges of Sanosuke's jacket flapping in the wind, snapping like flags, and he wondered if ahou ever got cold, leaving his jacket open like that.

"I've come to fight you, you bastard and--"

With a sigh, Saitou stopped and turned to face the ahou. So it was that again, so that had been the only reason Sanosuke had come out here. "You want to fight me? Now?"

"You're leaving for fucking Kyoto in an hour. Why not? I'll never get the chance to again."

Silence, and then, slowly, carefully, Saitou said, "You could always come to Kyoto."

Sanosuke didn't even pretend to consider it. "That's stupid, and you know it. What about your wife?"

"We're not very close. I don't see Tokio very much."

"Not even to enjoy a visit to the conjugal bed?"

"I'm surprised you know that word, ahou ga." Saitou wondered what it was that Sanosuke was holding behind his back . . . A gun? The ahou wasn't tall enough to hide his zanbatou behind his back, most of his height was leg, and Saitou was fairly sure that Sano didn't have a farewell present for him unless it was a punch in the stomach.

Or the nuts. It depended on how stupid or how hostile rooster-boy was feeling, though those two moods did tend to run together in Sanosuke. It made him easier to beat.

"Yeah, well, you've never had a very high opinion of me, anyway. And that's the real problem, isn't it? You can kick the crap out of me whenever you feel like it, so you don't think I'm anything. You think you can move to Kyoto without saying anything, with out telling me. You can just drop a fucking hint to Kenshin and waltz away."

Stupid Himura. He could keep state secrets perfectly well, but had the common sense of a mashed cricket, which was probably why he let the raccoon girl bully and make cow-eyes at him. "He told you."

"Hell yes. You could've left me a note even if you were too much of a coward to tell me yourself -- I do know how to read."

"I know." Even with the hair, he had at least half-a-head on Sano, and now that the wind was blowing it at least half-flat, he had a full head, though it was hard to tell with the way ahou had his chin tilted up like an obstinate child who knew they were up for a spanking but refused to behave. Maybe a spanking was what would make Sanosuke happy and stop this whole stupid scene so ahou would go home where he belonged. "You still want to fight me?" Saitou said, his free hand drifting to his sword as he set his knapsack down on the ground.

"I. . . " Sanosuke shaded his face, even though the sun wasn't out. Probably some small piece of sand in his eye, Saitou reflected. Then, Sano showed what he had been keeping behind his back: Saitou's old umbrella.

"You left this at my house."

Saitou could only stare at it, remembering this one night they'd gone out to the tavern, and Sano had gotten stinking drunk at the Black Rat, and they'd gone back to Sanosuke's rooms because it was closer, especially since Saitou was having such a hard time managing both the sprawling-drunk ahou and the umbrella. Fortunately, it'd been raining hard enough that the streets were deserted, so Sanosuke hadn't offered to fight anyone and gotten arrested like the *last* time he'd gone drinking. This time, Sano pulled them both into at least three puddles. By the time they'd gotten home, they were both soaked and muddy, so they'd had to change, shivering, in the dark, by light of a single candle. Afterwards, though, afterwards, when the storm had passed and they were dry and warm, Sano had sobered up enough to make tea--it the only time he drank tea, to carry him past a hangovers. And they'd gone out into the courtyard to sit on the steps and watch the stars come out after the thunderstorm, and lying there, drink lapsong tea and see the wind chase away the clouds, Saitou would have given everything, officer and family and honor and maybe even his code to be like that forever, and perhaps, with a bitter pang, he realized that perhaps, just maybe, he would again.

But now, now with Sanosuke's face stiff with anger and as cold as the darkening sky, there was only the way Sanosuke held umbrella between them, and the ticking of his Western watch inside Saitou's jacket reminding him of the hour and twelve minutes when he had to be at the police station--

The sky boomed, and Saitou wasn't sure whether it was the wind or the sound that pressed the grass forward, but then, first warm drops began to fall from the sky, slow but steady and promising greater things to come. If he'd dared, he could have closed his eyes and listened to the distant movement of thunder across the grassland and the movement of rain through the grass, the shaky breathing across from him.

Sano held the umbrella out at him. "Aren't you going to take it? Even bastard like you's going to need something."

"My head's not going to rust in rain."

"What!?! You pointy faced bast--" Sanosuke's face was a picture of perfect outrage, and when he started swinging at Saitou, Saitou stepped forward and took the umbrella, stepping aside to avoid Sanosuke's lunge even as he wrapped his fingers around the handle and pulled the umbrella close to smirk straight into Sano's face.

Keeping his grip on the umbrella, he murmured, "No, ahou, *your* head won't rust in the rain because there's nothing *to* rust, but if you stay out in this rain too long, that incredibly ugly hair-do of yours *is* going to melt."

Sanosuke's eyes narrowed with something very much like genuine hate, and he continued to try and wrench the umbrella free from Saitou's fingers. But when the edge of his thumb brushed the Saitou's wrist, he dropped the umbrella and backed away, snarling and wringing his sore fingers.

"Take it. Contrary to whatever you think, it's not like I'm so fucking poor that I can't buy one for myself."

And then, softly, so quiet it was almost lost in the sudden uprising of the wind, so quiet that Sano had to strain to hear it over the grass:

"Once again, ahou, you've missed the real question--your hair would melt in the rain, and I'd hardly know you without it."

Sanosuke turned his face to Saitou in something very much like honest surprise, his mouth working silently, eyes blinking hard to keep the grit out of his eyes even as the thunderheads which had been building all day finally broke and split the sky open. And it began to rain, the heavy raindrops settling the dust and driving into the wooden boards of the bridge with soft noises that grew louder and louder as the rain finally turned into a true downpour that slicked Saitou's bangs tight to his face and made his vision blur.

And in the middle of all that water, in the middle of the thunder and lightning and the rain, in the middle of holding an umbrella over them both, Saitou could put down kisses and whisper his goodbye.

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end

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