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07 December 2005 @ 12:31 pm
Jan 1, 1858 | Morning | Shieikan Dojo  
I stare at myself in the mirror and what do I see? A boy. Not a far cry from the scrawny little child of nine: ruddy cheeked, wide-eyed and all too eager. A child. I do not see the man that I'm supposed to become. Yet?

I have a feeling I will always be like this. I will not have the sharp angles Kondo-nii has, the booming voice of Shusuke-sensei, or the suaveness Toshi-nii is so known for. I will always be of a willowy material--always sinewey, always ambiguous. A child with a blade. Always me of the Now.

A huff blows away the lock of hair that has fallen on my face. Call it a sort of farewell; I will no longer have them by the time the day is through. Becoming a man takes so much work... "Well, this is as good as it's gonna get." I see the boy impishly grin at me.

I inspect my clothes for any misplaced crease. Later on, somebody will help me into my ceremonial garb, or so Shusuke-sensei told me. I can't wait! At least for now, I kind of look presentable enough for a fifteen year old. Tying my hair up in the white ribbon I religiously insist on using, I make my way outside into the cold, snow-peppered morning where more early birds come to greet me with a perfunctory "Ohayou, Okita-san!" and offer congratulations for today's upcoming events. They won't be there when it happens; not many people will. I will probably see them tomorrow at this rate. Will I get any presents? I have to admit, I'm rather excited.

Okay, so I'm more than excited. I'm giddy...and I feel like I've eaten a dozen bags of sugarplums and a hive of bees are invading my insides. I want to run and whoop and...and...dance, for Kami-sama's sake! Anything!

The moment there is no one in sight, I make a dash for Toshi-nii's room.

"Hmm. He's not here..."

Darn. Oh well. Maybe I'll fix myself some tea. Why must Januaries be so cold?

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