What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Waiting

Chizuru brought me tea and food every so often, and I took a shining to the shy girl. Her pink Hakamashita was cute, and the absence of feminine forms allowed her to pull it off. I was slightly worried they would ask me to wear the same uniform, but no one spoke about my attire.

My pack had been searched, of course; the Oni Vice Commander had returned it, minus a few sensitive items. Strange things, from a 19th century point of view  – like toothbrush, pen and antibiotics – were missing. One pointed look from him had silenced my pleas; I hoped I could get it all back at some point. Antibiotics were a prized possession in this era.

He didn't return my weapons, of course. I didn't expect him to, but I couldn't bring myself to ask the man I'd called a demon about them. Still, their absence felt sour. The elvish sword and Sarmatian bow – Tristan's – had been a comfort those past years, nothing stressed me out more than being weaponless.

I stewed for three more days, drinking tea, writing in my little notebook, and nursing that damn headache that retreated slower than a snail on a camping trip. Yamazaki came every morning, and every night, assessing the swelling at the back of my skull.

Without a lamp, the night began early. I understood why they didn't allow any kind of fire in my room, but the shadows stretched early in the winter. They brought an oil lamp with them so that I could eat with supervision. Then... darkness engulfed my room, and there was nothing else for me to do but think, or sleep.

I didn't dare singing, for a captain was posted by my door, freezing its ass off, to prevent me from escaping. That change of rhythm, compared to my modern life where I would go to sleep at eleven, was pretty overwhelming. Overall, it felt like I was having a nice little downtime in a nursing home ... which was making me crazy.

It was for this reason that, on the fourth day, I resolved myself to practise my pliés. It was a simple classical routine, but I was fed up. If I remained inactive for one more day, I would explode.

Classical dancing brought me strength and flexibility; everything I needed to fight properly. And even though I couldn't practise anything that required my head to bend, I could still work my legs and left arm. The right one still stung like bitch – I applied an antiseptic of my own at night to prevent infection. It would probably take ten more days before I could use it properly. So I rested it over a wooden beam, barely pushing to keep the wood from splintering, and practised.

An Adage would suit my needs without putting too much strain on my weakened body. Movements slow, I exhaled, extending my left leg in front of me. I kept it ten seconds in the air until my thigh muscle started burning. Then, I shifted my hips, opening it to slide the leg aside. My knee bent, the tip of my foot resting down. Retiré. Then, développé; I extended my leg anew on the side until it burnt. Retiré, once more, to rest my muscles as I climbed onto the tip of my supporting leg.

My muscles trembled and heated up. Good. It was freezing this morning; it smelt of snow. Yet, I never dared opening the door by myself for fear of being stabbed by Sōji. The brat always found a way to let me know it was him, taunting me from the other side of the door. Today, I knew it wasn't him. Taking a deep, long breath, I shifted and extended my leg backwards in an attitude. Damn, I was rusty. My muscles screamed when I slowly extended the back leg, trying to shift my body forward to attempt an arabesque.

Failure. My back wasn't flexible enough to keep the bust upwards which caused my head to swim. I gripped the wooden beam by the side and winced in defeat. The movement was too unsettling for my balance. Would it return properly ? I hoped that there was no internal swelling, somewhere, eating away at me... this would just be a time bomb.

Pissed, I straightened again, and decided to work on flexibility rather than strength. Outside, a few voices spoke in the silence. I ignored them, grabbing my heel, and extending my leg as far up as I could. My muscles screamed at the treatment, but I held on. Soon, they relaxed, adjusting, and I managed to tug a bit upwards, forming a nice Y shape. The shōji slid open and I blinked.

Yukimura usually announced herself, but Saitō did not. He froze on the threshold without a word; the position had him puzzled. I released my leg gently, taking in the brightness from the outside world. Snow ! Snow in Kyoto, wow ! A blanket of immaculate flakes covered the world, and a gust of cold air greeted my surprise.

"Sumimasen," Saitō eventually said. "I should have announced myself."

Funny, how a captain apologised to the prisoner for intruding in their prison cell. Those guys definitely were over-civilised.

"No worries. I was just training."

A dark eyebrow rose, half-hidden under his hair. "Has Yukimura cleared you off ?"

I frowned; I hated when people took decision in my place, be them doctors or captains. Especially doctors, actually. Pin that on my rebellious streak.

"I take my own decisions when it comes to my health, Saitō."

Perhaps I should have chosen a suffix, but I couldn't decide which one to use. Kun seemed awfully condescending or familiar, and san ... well, he was younger than I. The captain remained there, still like a statue, probably wondering if he should scold me. Saitō seemed to decide against it, and just turned to the engawa where Chizuru was bringing a platter.

"Konichiwa, Kitsu-san," rang her usual cheery voice. "I am bringing breakfast and warm tea."

Her hands were red from the cold, and so was her nose. As for Saitō, his cheeks also showed some colours. It was little wonder if he'd spend half the night sitting outside my door with snow coating the landscape. When would they accept I was no threat ? I felt bad for Saitō who had probably been freezing his ass for hours.

"Why don't you both join me this morning ? Surely a cup of warm tea could do you good."

Chizuru turned to Saitō for guidance, surprised by my request. The captain nodded, and she dashed away to fetch more cups. I wondered how far she would make it before sliding to her death.

"Will you stay as well ?", I asked.

The young man seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded his assent.

"Hai. But do not take advantage to try to escape."

"You have my word. I'm not in any state to battle you anyway."

Hey ! Don't have much love on this story. If you don't like it, I'd be glad to have some feedback ! Thanks.