What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Of bows...

Another couple of weeks passed. I became more acquainted with the captains that guarded my door. Strangely, they didn't post any of their lower-ranking men; perhaps they didn't know whom to trust with that Itōu-san in the compound. Surely sparing a captain all day and night long would put a strain on their resources, right?

Anyway, I wasn't about to complain about the company. Okita was still a brat, and I mostly ignored him when he pestered me. Shinpachi had an unhealthy habit about walking around, half-naked, and bragging. His gaze didn't lie; he would have made a meal of me for breakfast, but only with my approval. So I kept a respectful distance from him. Saitō was his usual silent self. I usually wrote when he came, or offered him a cup of tea while we 'talked' about swords and such.

That man was a well of knowledge when it came to forging, and I wondered how many times Glorfindel had folded my blade before he deemed it satisfactory. I couldn't help but think that he had infused some of his magic inside; this blade always felt so vibrant in my hand, as if it responded to my whims.

Heisuke was his usually cheery self. Loud, and so naïve that he made me smile. I just couldn't see him as anything other than a child. Yet, he'd killed people without hesitation for the Shinsengumi. The last one, Harada Sanosuke, was pretty decent. Soft-spoken, we sometimes exchanged politely about his background or mine, and traded a few childhood stories. I was used to twisting reality to hide my origins – the future. So we kept conversation casual. He, unlike Saitō, didn't seem to suffer from the cold; I never invited him inside, but sometimes sat on the gangway by his side, wrapped in my elvish cape.

The snow melted within a few days, the weather turning warmer. When, I wasn't working for Kondō-san, I trained, and trained, until my body was sore or my gyroscope couldn't take it. After more than two weeks, I still couldn't try any upside-down posture. The limited movements made me crazy, so I kept busy writing everything I learnt from Japan in a notebook. From words to traditions, doodles and thoughts.

One day, Chizuru came with a wide smile; she wanted me to assist in the kitchen. I must have looked very pitiable for I nearly whooped with joy. With the bath house and Kondō-san's office, it was the third room I was allowed to go to. Which meant an increase of 50% of my horizons. Yey. Engineer one day ... engineer forever. Anyway.

The captain in charge of watching me came along. Harada, today. He gave me a gentle smile while Chizuru chatted my ear off about making tofu – Saitō's favourite. Chopping vegetables with an over excited and cheerful teenage girl wasn't so bad. Actually, I got used to using the knife rather than a peeler, and even managed not to chop my finger off. A miracle: swords, I could master. But knives were not my friends. At all.

Harada decided to give us a hand, and the three of us arranged rice balls on a plate, adding miso soup and something that looked like fried fish. In this very moment, I congratulated myself on my flexibility towards food. Chizuru served Hijikata-san's platter first, and I Kondō-san – I was his page, after all. Harada took care of Sanan-san, and breakfast was officially declared.

The rowdy animation between Shinpachi and Heiskue trying to steal each other's food didn't seem to bother anyone; they were used to it. For my part, I tried to block off the noise that invaded my skull so violently; needless to say, that the exercise was exhausting. Fortunately, the warm bowl of miso soup helped me focus. Actually, miso soup was a great way to start the day, and I promised myself I'd add this to my breakfast routine when I got back... If I got back.

The thought caused me to pause, chopsticks caught midair. The Keeper of Time had this uncanny ability to feel things before they were meant to happen. By now, I was pretty familiar with premonitions to know I'd hit a nerve. I usually predicted other people's death... I never had that eerie feeling that I would be the victim.