[indent][indent]It had taken nearly two years for Nagatoki to find any real action in the Shinsengumi. His dark days as a Manslayer had been far more exciting when viewed through retrospection. No longer were they a fog of bloody missions, all culminating to the death of Sanesuke the Phantom of Osaka but now they were a testament of his swordsmanship and infamy. He stood still amongst the other members of the eleventh squad, body loose and comfortable in the tense situation. His peerless senses had been honed to be alert even when he appeared laxed. He took account of the mostly still courtyard, hearing only the sounds that should exist outside. For he had accounted on the way-in for what should and should not be heard.

He yawned, for just a second his senses being dulled. [color=#a3a529][b][i]How boring,[/i][/b][/color] he thought. [color=#a3a529][b][i]Conversations like these are what I will hate the most once I'm in power. Too bad we can not just be presented with the insurgents now. Killing them myself would surely promote me to Troop Captain.[/i][/b][/color]

His unusually bright-eye shifted between Fujimaru, Okita, and Saito as they spoke. He swiveled his neck in a firm yet slow manner, coaxing the stiffness from out his muscles. He hoped something exciting would happen soon, else he would have to play man-servant to gain good favor amongst the powers-that-be.  [/indent][/indent]