What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Ambush

A thought passed, unbidden, terrifying.

Had I just jinxed myself?

But nothing happened as we trailed up the street. I allowed Hijikata's gentle support to relieve the pressure on my feet, our point of contact slowly expanding as my fingers unfolded over his hakamashita. I felt his shoulders gradually relax, his body accepting my presence by his side as we listened to his friend and Captain. And, whenever a good joke was sent our way, I found the courage to squeeze at the fabric of his sleeve to convey my amusement.

I doubted even married couples got to walk arm in arm in the Edo period, and realised how lucky I was for this moment of peace. If the commander accepted my touch, it surely meant that trust was blooming again? Perhaps we would find a way to work together; I was sure we'd be terrific if we joined forces. I worked best with teammates. No one, in my past school, would have believe it; I was just very picky in my choice of partners.

As I mulled over past relationships – or lack of thereof, I could never trust schoolmates after all, my mind gently accepted to lower its guard. After all, I was surrounded by three very dangerous men.

Error.

I didn't see it coming; there had been no outwards signs of any kind when red eyes popped in front of my very face. Hijikata reacted at once, ripping his arm from mine in the fraction of a second to reach for his katana.

Too late.

I was thrown against a wall with such force that I saw stars. One of my geta clattered upon the ground, torn away. Pressure landed at my throat, harsh, and unyielding.

"Stop right there," Kazama stated at the sound of katanas ringing. "Or I'll crush her windpipe."

He didn't need to raise his words; the three men froze, swords raised, and jaw tight. I tried very hard not to panic, and stopped trying to gulp air when my hand closed around my assailant's forearm in hopes to relieve the pressure.

I dug into the too wide obi to discreetly retrieve my dagger. At last, it came free! But Kazama was ready; he twisted my hand harshly and I winced in pain. My wrist popped painfully and the dagger slid from my fingers.

Defenceless, dangling by the throat ... air getting scarce.

"Release her at once!" thundered a voice where anguish and anger mingled. I was at the Oni's full mercy, what could Fukuchō possibly do? How had Kazama managed to surprise us so easily? Gotten right in our face, without one of us noticing?

I now realised how unbeatable the man was; he'd always given us fair warning before. Today, he went for the kill. Dark spots danced before my eyes, and I grabbed his forearm as tightly as I could, looking him in the eye as I clawed at his kimono like an enraged kitten. My wrist scream in pain, but I couldn't even hiss. I glared with my most intimidating Keeper of Time stare, and swung both my feet to his chest. The man didn't even budge, laughing in my face.

Enraged, I linked one of my legs around his shoulder, hoping to pull at his neck. Rage and frustration filled me when he shrugged me off effortlessly; I felt like a newborn in his arms.

"Stop squirming, or your insides will plaster the stone," he growled.

I stopped struggling, defeated. Then, agonising slow, he grabbed the chain at my neck in his gloved fingers. My heart stopped in disbelief.

No! Not the necklace!

Panic engulfed me at once. I was losing air and growing too weak. Kazama smirked, triumphant. When he suddenly released me, I plummeted down like a sack of potatoes, unable to hold my own weight. But his hands still held the necklace. My body fell to the ground; the chain snapped as it dug into my throat.