Shinsengumi! (2) - The Right to Protect
"Um... can I really just take it? Without paying?"
The mother, cradling her baby, asked again as if she couldn't believe it.
"Of course. You said the child suffers from fever every night, right? Blue lotus is best for that, but brewing reeds or chrysanthemums works too. Here you go."
"My little sister got stabbed with rusty scissors and now she can't eat properly or even speak well..."
"Hmm. Sounds like tetanus. Wash the wound frequently with mulberry ash water, and I'll give you some cinnamon bark powder—mix it in warm water and give it to her three times a day."
"M-my father is bedridden with a cold right now..."
A new medicine peddler had appeared on Kihon Street.
For some reason, he sold his remedies at incredibly low prices. And if the buyer was truly destitute, he'd give them away for free without hesitation.
Word spread like wildfire through the streets. Soon, the poor and sick—who couldn't even afford basic treatment—flocked to him like clouds.
The peddler wasn't just knowledgeable in herbs; he was versed in medicine as a whole. He even performed simple emergency treatments and procedures on the spot.
"Well. Looks like I ran out already."
Izuki gave a wry smile. The substantial stock of herbs he'd prepared was down to just a handful.
But he couldn't ignore the groans of the suffering weak. With a bitter heart, the boy shouldered his basket and prepared to move on.
'I'll sell whatever's left and buy food for Master. I can skip meals if I have to.'
The moment Izuki started to stand, a small hand suddenly grabbed his sleeve.
"P-please... help..."
Tears welled in the child's eyes. Izuki knelt with a troubled smile.
"Sorry, but I'm almost out of herbs. Still, if you need help, I'll do what I can."
The boy gently wiped the child's tears.
"Are your parents ill? Sick with something, or injured somewhere?"
"...I-injured."
"How did it happen? Actually, why don't we go to them? I'll check in person—that'll be fastest."
The child looked up at Izuki in disbelief. After countless rejections, she'd approached him in desperation. His ready offer of aid felt strangely foreign.
"R-really...? You'll save our parents?"
"Yes. Of course."
Izuki took the child's hand.
"That's why I came here in the first place—to protect the weak, in a way."
"...To protect the weak?"
Serizawa Kamo blinked his bulging eyes. He scratched under his chin, clearly baffled.
"What gives you the right?"
"Does protecting people require qualifications?"
Izuki's retort came without a hint of hesitation. His low voice carried unyielding strength.
"It does. Absolutely."
Serizawa fired back just as swiftly, without a second thought.
"The only ones qualified to protect Kyoto's citizens are the Shinsengumi on these streets. And I'm their superintendent."
Serizawa kicked away the merchant clutching his hem.
"So when you say protecting people needs no qualifications, you're saying I—the Shinsengumi superintendent—am unnecessary?"
"...That's not what I meant!"
The foot that had struck the merchant now flew at Izuki.
Bam!
A heavy whoosh of air, and the boy was sent staggering back. Izuki barely blocked with his sword hilt, but the massive impact left his arm numb.
"Tch. Would've been better if you'd just taken the hit and dropped."
No time to recover. Serizawa's fan whipped toward Izuki's neck.
Whoosh—hair severed, a razor-sharp wind. Izuki arched back desperately; a red line slashed across his forehead.
'Iron fan...!'
Cold sweat beaded as Izuki spotted the metallic glint. This wasn't a mere threat—it was a killing blow.
Izuki gripped his hilt. But then—
A massive hand clamped over his, squeezing tight.
"...!"
Izuki floated into the air, wrist caught. Serizawa scowled at the wriggling boy.
"Your draw's too slow. I nodded off waiting for the blade."
Then, terrifying force crushed down.
Crunch.
A gruesome snap and grind of bone. Serizawa casually dropped the boy to the ground.
"Man, stealing another guy's wife is such a hassle. Right?"
He grinned at the pale-faced merchant.
"Buddhism has the six perfections, yeah? I'm a menkyo kaiden of Shinto-ryu, so think of it as offering your wife to the gods. Eases the mind, no?"
Wearing a benevolent smile like a shrine priest, Serizawa strode back into the shop.
Screams of the wife and children echoed from within as he untied his sash and crossed the threshold.
"...On second thought, you're right."
Serizawa froze mid-step.
With a heavy sigh, he turned. Izuki stood firm, face bloodied.
"If you're the only one qualified to protect people... then it's better if you have none."
Left foot forward. Right back. Left hand on hilt tip—high guard stance.
His mangled right hand merely propped the hilt.
Serizawa sighed in disbelief.
"Using one-handed techniques in real combat? We Shinsengumi have one guy like that, but..."
He turned fully toward Izuki.
"One-hand arts widen your openings, and failure means death. Left-hand maximizes that flaw. You sure?"
Izuki gritted his teeth against the pain but nodded slowly.
Serizawa burst into booming laughter.
"Gutsy, at least. Come on, then—"
Form 7: One-Handed Face Strike
Alarms blared in his instincts. Serizawa reflexively tilted his head.
Snick—his jade haori shoulder sliced clean. A red line traced his exposed skin.
'...?'
Serizawa's eyes widened.
'What the—this kid's fast...'
Bang!
Izuki kicked off the ground, charging like a gale. Veins bulged at Serizawa's temple.
"You dare..."
Grind. A curse leaked through clenched teeth.
"Free... interpretation... name... declare—."
As eerie power descended over Serizawa's head—
"Hyaaah~! You dareee~!!"
A swordsman crashed in from the side, drop-kicking Izuki.
The boy tumbled in the collision.
"You scum! Daring to mess with our noble, righteous, true patriot Serizawa Kamo, superintendent?!"
The small swordsman stomped Izuki with unsteady steps.
Thud thud smack smack!
After thoroughly beating him, Okita Soji wiped his face with his sleeve.
"No need for you to handle trash like this yourself, Superintendent. It'd tarnish your lofty dignity."
Okita nodded repeatedly.
"Right? Vice-Chief Hijikata."
"...Yeah."
Another swordsman approached, displeased. Handsome features, eyes piercing deep.
The kind of beauty that turned heads.
"The superintendent's busy day and night with Kyoto's security. We'll handle this thug."
Okita hoisted the groaning boy.
As Serizawa opened his mouth to speak—
Hijikata tossed a money pouch from his pocket.
"We already collected protection money this morning. Want it? It's yours."
The merchant blinked in confusion. No Shinsengumi besides Serizawa's crew collected fees.
"Mm! We'll head back to barracks then. Have fun on Kihon Street!"
Okita winked and skipped off lightly. Hijikata followed with a contemptuous glance.
"Heh. What rude bastards."
One of Serizawa's lackeys chuckled in disbelief.
"Gonna have to teach 'em manners sometime."
The one-eyed man spat.
Serizawa stared silently at the pouch on his massive hand, then suddenly swung his fist, smashing the shop's wares to bits.
Only after nothing remained to destroy did he laugh heartily.
"Alright. Let's go enjoy some whores."
As Serizawa walked off, his crew followed.
They left behind only wreckage—of goods and people alike.
Humans are creatures of adaptation.
Right after reincarnation, she'd chewed grass and bugs. A single onigiri dropped by ronin felt like owning the world.
Now, onigiri tasted bland. Bugs? She couldn't stomach them.
After releasing caught grasshoppers repeatedly, Si-ho gave up hunter-gatherer life and trudged home, deflated.
'A-a bit... late...'
Si-ho glanced at the midday sun.
Lunchtime soon. His shadow should appear any moment.
Si-ho tiptoed, peering over the hillside.
No sign amid the brush.
'U-ugh...'
If only she were taller. Her tiny frame felt unjust.
Shrunk in body and spirit, Si-ho paced the front yard aimlessly.
Her eyes fell on the narrow, shabby house. Not a ruin—just humble, lived-in.
The neat, upright facade still felt alien.
'...Must've worked hard.'
A boy's back, hammering under the sun, flickered in memory.
Si-ho absently stroked the outer wall. Warm, familiar wood grain.
She leaned against the sun-warmed side.
Spring breeze from distant Kyoto caressed her stark white hair.
'...Maybe go out to greet him.'
Si-ho touched the new sword from Izuki, then slowly stepped forward.