What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Rasetsu

In honour of Frances' birthday, here is a new chapter !

I shot up in my bed, heart thundering. A noise had shaken me out of slumber. Whimpers came from Chizuru's room next to me, and I thanked the Valar I slept with cotton pants and a t-shirt. Jumping out of the futon, I rushed next door, only to find her cornered by a man in uniform ... his hair entirely white. An old man? The disparity of his bearing, and the colour of his hair registered in my brain, but I had no time to dwell on it.

"Stop!" I commanded.

The man turned around like an automat, his whole body stiff, until red blood eyes glared back at me. Shit! Another wraith, and I was unarmed. He cackled madly, sniffing me out. I froze, considering my options. The man was stronger and faster than I was. I needed something to hold him off until the compound awakened, and the men had fastened their thousand layers of clothes over their wiry frames.

"Chizuru, get out!", I hissed. But the young woman was petrified in fear, her upper sleeve torn, blood seeping into the fabric. Damn, the zombie had hurt her already.

"Blood, blood," he kept chanting, watching me warily, as if he couldn't decide which one of us to drain.

Fuck that!

I dove for Chizuru's stand where her kodachi was displayed, rolling to reach for the blade. The wraith was on my tail at once, I barely had time to unsheathe that his sword swished above my head. I blocked at the latest moment, the shock so mighty that it reverberated in my shoulders.

The wraith pressed on and I tried to deviate the blade. To no avail. He pushed me to the ground, his greater strength cornering me between tatami mat and his bulky frame. I heard Chizuru scream my nickname, my teeth were grinding from the strain. Five more centimetres, and I was dead.

Deadened eyes stared at me; sweat formed on my brow. Would I die with those demonic eyes planted into mine? No! I refused to let go. My arms were locked in the sparring, but the rest... Mustering all my strength, I bucked on the floor, my foot catching him in the head – thank classical dancing for the flexibility. The man grunted, caught off guard, and I pushed with the might of desperation.

He barely moved a foot back. Damn!

"Chizuru !", I called, in desperate need of a distraction. She whimpered again, unmoving, and I cursed. The distinctive ring of a blade eventually echoed in the room, and the zombie fell backwards, a monumental slash marring his back. Hijikata stood behind him, sword drawn, face bathed in shadows. Spent, I allowed my head to fall upon the tatami to catch my breath. My arms were killing me.

"Get out of there," the Vice Commander ordered.

The urgency laced in his voice caused my blood to pump faster, and I grunted, rolling to the side. Already, the killer zombie was struggling to stand. What the ...? He'd been sliced from shoulder to hip, and still lived? A rough hand grabbed me by the upper arm, helping me stagger to my feet. Chizuru huddled by my side, hiding behind the Vice Commander with shaking limbs.

Footsteps caused the engawa to shake, and the captains appeared at once. Harada was already diving forward, his spear pinning the zombie's hand into the tatami. The human-beast shook it off, standing to face us three. Hijakata's left hand was held before Chizuru in a show of protectiveness. I stood behind him, on the other side, Kodachi ready for a second round. It was a good blade, if not mine: it would do the work.

The other captains stared, hesitating, as the twisted excuse of a man. "Blood, blood." He lifted his sword again. Faster than my brain could process it, Hijikata's blade met his chest in a deft slicing movement. The man staggered back into Harada's spear. The tip pierced its chest and the captain threw the man against the wall. Rice paper and fragile wooden beams creaked miserably before the wall tipped backwards. Both man and partition fell outside in a deafening noise.