What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Ochaya

Friendly banter led us to a discrete ochaya. Large trees rested before the entrance, providing shade during the day, and cover at night. An older woman, dressed in a pink kimono, ushered us inside with great consideration. We followed, passing a roofed corridor with screens and wooden decoration that felt absolutely soothing.

The Japanese spirit lived in those walls, and I found myself pushing the veil away to take a peek. Our little procession circumvented an inner pond were koi fish lounged about. A small tree, perched upon a rock, plunged its roots inside. That little square of rustling water was absolutely gorgeous, and I paused to take in the sight, pushing the flimsy cloth away from my face.

Water, my absolute weakness.

My eyes feasted upon every little detail; the lights, the fabric, the noises, the paper screens that only veiled the view, but left nothing to the imagination for it carried conversation and smells. A feather light touch at my elbow shook me out of my reverie, and I found the Vice Commander gazing down upon me with a relaxed expression. The poet in him, for sure, appreciated the beauty of the place. The others had climbed up a set of stairs already; I hurried to follow, Hijikata guarding my back. The elder lady led us to a private room and bowed to us, closing the shōji behind us all.

"You can shed the hat ... and your beautiful obi, Yamanami-san," Hijikata commanded.

That last bit was laced with amusement. I pulled the uchikatsugi out of my hair with a sigh of relief, hoping it had not ruined my braid and bun. The three stunned looked I received from the men worried me, and I passed a hand over it wearily. Would they even tell me if the hat had pulled some of my strands loose ?

"What is it?", I asked warily.

Sanan shook his head gently, smoothing his own hair before his hands descended to the elaborate – and very feminine – Obi that still cinched his waist.

"You look beautiful, Frances-kun. This colour becomes you."

Heat rushed to my cheeks; I had not been expecting a compliment, at all. Funny, how every day Frances seemed different from the formal kimono wearing Frances. And while Sanan struggled with the knot of his elaborate obi, Kondō pointed to a cushion, and helped me in my seat with a large smile.

"You can thank Toshi, I was adamant to get you a pale orange furisode. He put his foot down adamantly, saying the contrast with your skin might not be in your favour."

A strangled noise, the equivalent to Chizuru's squeak, came from my left. As Hijikata glared at Kondō, who ignored it superbly, subtle warmth spread in my chest. That kimono, aside from being a work of art, meant even more now; blue was my favourite colour. I gently bowed, surprised to feel the air greet naked skin at my nape.

"You have my gratitude, Hijikata-san. Orange is so not my colour."

The man levelled me with an unreadable gaze.

"No need, I couldn't allow Kyokuchō to go out on his own. I might as well have a hand in choosing a colour that suited you."

"It is true that Hijikata-kun always had better taste," Sanan added, his nimble fingers sliding the large piece of cloth – the silken obi – away from his waist with a characteristic swish. "It probably comes with the good looks."

A blush crept us my neighbour's cheeks anew, and he dipped his face in his hand.

"Nani... ? Will, you cease your teasing already?"

I smiled, fully, this time. Those three really were something. Feeling in a mischievous mood, I turned to Sanan with no amount of glee.

"Of, but you do look pretty lovely too, Yamanami-san. Although I've never seen a concubine with such impressive shoulders."