In Okita's mind there were only two people in the hallway - him and Kenshin. Sano melded into the background, into the dark and the coppery smell of blood. He was no longer a threat and he wasn't about to get up again, so he could be ignored for now. Instead, Okita focused everything he had on this fight. He was physically stronger, but Kenshin was faster even when he had his knees caught by the Western pants. Okita had the advantage of wearing his old yukata, but that still didn't equalize the speed factor.

On one thing, however, they were even. They were both experts in their fields and they could both read the other. Okita saw the feint coming and dodged it instead of blocking it, pulling back and out of Kenshin's range. He switched his grip on the sword and tucked his arms in close to his sides before he took another stab at attacking. If Kenshin thought he'd be taken by such an easy blow, he had another thing coming. Running forward, Okita feigned to the right and then struck on the left at the arm holding the sheath.