Takasugi Shinsuke loathed the moon.

His fingers idly strum the strings of his shamisen, the soft melodies drifting through the air, filling the quaint room aboard the Kiheitai ship with a gentle, otherworldly glow. The cool light of the lanterns flickers, casting shadows on the walls as Shinsuke closes his eyes, allowing the deep, resonant notes to vibrate through him, grounding him in the moment.

Outside, the moon hangs in the sky, a flawless orb of silver beauty, unaffected by the chaos of the world below. Despite the bloodshed, the brutality, and the ever-present cruelty of life, it remains unwavering, its light pure and untainted.

It is in that unbroken light that Shinsuke finds himself lost—haunted. It stirs memories of things long buried, of people he'd rather forget.

There was a knock on his quarters. A loud sound, then the clattering noises of metal. With a huge huff from his kiseru, he permitted them in.

A pair of Kiheitai men hauled someone in, forcing the beat-up person on their knees, raising a proud cackle. 'Takasugi-sama, we've captured an invader!'

Something snapped within him.

The one person he didn't wish to see. The one person he'd wanted to keep safe from this rotten world. The one person dear to him that the universe hadn't taken away yet...

You.

A dreadful feeling akin to murderous rage fuelled inside him when he saw the blood on your skin, his grip tightening on the musical instrument to a dangerous point.

"Get your hands off and get out."

He gruffs out, the men immediately scrambling to follow his orders.