What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Fighting consumption

Fingers crossed being my back, I extracted all the boxes from my bag. Then, a game of reading and bantering started. I didn't know much about consumption, either than it was a nasty lung bacteria. Sanan extracted a book, Traité de l'Auscultation Médiate, by Laennec. I ignored than the man responsible for my subway stop had died of tuberculosis, a hundred years before my time. Yet, his book gave us a lot of insigh on the disease. But nothing on its mode of action, and reproduction.

Sanan was almost giddy when he realised that, being French, I could translate the whole book easily. My mood sobered when, five hours after dawn, I still ignored if the bacteria was aerobia, or not. If it hid inside the cells, or remained outside. The research had simply not been done yet.

To think that a simple click on google or Wikipedia could have saved Sōji ! It made me crazy not to know... I swore to myself that I would study more when I returned home on the basics of medicine. Maybe create a notebook of sorts with useful tips. I never wanted to feel like this again, like I should have known but had failed at studying the right things. Of what use would be to know the water phase diagram, uh ?

Frustrated, I relied on Sanan to center me. At some point, we drank more tea, and debated about our findings. The man was nothing if not organised, and he analysed all clues with the accuracy of a doctor.

It took hours for us to decide upon posology, and the right combination of streptomycin – which reported to be used against tuberculosis in the instructions – and shiitake fungi. Those were supposed to strengthen his defences. The result was satisfactory, but I hoped that no one had been infected by Okita's coughing. Emotionally spend, Sanan and I realised we'd missed lunch.

But hell, it was worth it! Perhaps, someday, we would see Sōji play with the children once more! I was literally bouncing when I returned to the common room for dinner this evening. I was starving, and neither Hijikata's icy glares, nor Okita's speculative glances soured my mood as I devoured rice balls and raw fish.

I certainly didn't expect Okita to explode, an hour later, like a quasar when Sanan explained that we might have a solution for his mortal disease.

"Don't tell me you want me to drink Ochimizu!"

I gasped, too tired of the day's work to call upon my usual patience. Sanan's grey eyes flashed, but he remained collected despite the harshness of Okita's accusation. The man would never, ever force Ochimizu upon one he held so dear; the consequences were too dire.

Days hunting for a diagnostic, hours spent scrambling our brains, all the while thinking of Okita's future. For his benefit. And this is what he had to say?

Blood boiling, I jumped to my feet, surprising both men in the room.

"Okita Sōji !", I thundered. "Will you stop behaving like a brat for five fucking minutes, and use your wits!" Stunned silence met my outburst, and I realised I was so tightly wound that my chest hurt. "Whatever your deal is," I went on, "Shed it aside and use your brain."

A tug on my sleeve caused me to meet Sanan's gaze. There was no reprobation in his eyes, only the desire to go on; ever the pragmatist. I relented and sat, tucking my legs underneath as was proper for a lady. Okita cocked his head aside, studying me with an unnerving expression.

"What? Yelling at Hijikata-san wasn't enough? It's my turn now?"

"Sōji-kun !", Sanan intervened sternly. "Kistu-san and myself worked on this for hours, and I have some confidence it may work. If you mean to demean our efforts, do not forget to shut the door on your way out."