What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

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Sorry I should have updated this earlier. I'll endeavour to be more diligent !

Blood drained from my face as I locked eyes with Sanan. How dare he take that decision in my stead? He, that had drunk the Ochimizu at the expense of his own life? Suddenly, the shock and the pain of those past days gathered in the pit of my stomach and boiled.

Despite the pain, I couldn't help but raise my voice.

"I can't fucking run, can't fight, I am useless."

The words scorched my mouth, some of the ulcers bleeding as I spoke. Sanan was livid, but he didn't back down. Chizuru took a step back by his side, bumping into Okita who stabilised her. Did she sense the incoming explosion? The bristling energy, trapped inside the Colonel, ready to lay waste in the room?

"My apologies Kitsu. I am not ready to take the risk with your life."

Sadness and pity mingled with steel, and I knew I'd had to push much further to get him to bend. Did I even stand a chance? Rightful wrath filled me, and I allowed it to consume me whole as I cried.

"Ochimizu," I spat. "Didn't Chizuru beg you not to take it? Why should you decide in my stead? What gives you the right?" My chest tightened painfully, short of breath, but I yelled those last words at the top of my lungs. "This is my life! MY life!"

A droplet of blood fell upon my wrist; my lips had cracked entirely. I was panting now, swaying on my feet from the lack of oxygen. But Sanan didn't move an inch; was he made of stone? His grey eyes narrowed, and instead of yelling back at me, his cold, silky tones send shivers down my spine.

"This is Kyokuchō's decision and you will abide by it."

He took one step forward, his eyes flickering to my bleeding lips as his voice dropped low.

"And don't ever yell at me again, I am not Hijikata... I will not stand for it a second time."

I'd heard him call Hijikata soft, sometimes. Oni no Fukuchō, soft, what a joke! But as I watched the Colonel, his face carved in marble, I sensed we were tittering along the point of no return. It would take just a little push... Perhaps more blood. As I struggled to draw breath, I found the strength to utter an icy "Get out".

He caught my meaning well enough. No, my order.

Was he going to counter-attack? But Sanan was neither petty nor prideful; he'd put me in my place without any chance of retaliation. His image didn't suffer from my dismissal, albeit he had crushed me without mercy. Hence, he left regally.

I wished he had stormed out, leaving me a wreck like Hijikata would have done. Anything, but the cold anger dancing in his eyes, that ice stiffening his spine and locking his shoulders. Realisation that I had just alienated one of my best friends sunk in when he disappeared. The most dangerous member of the Shinsengumi. I felt myself sink, knees wobbling. I never touched the ground, for Chizuru's arms were around me at once.

"Lay down and breathe," she ordered in her best doctor impersonation.

My heart was racing, the weight upon my lungs so heavy that I nearly cried. All this pain, for nothing? Tears leaked from my eyes and I angrily wiped them away. What good would I be, without the ability to fight?

The Keeper of Time no more.

The warrior defeated.

What else?

Sōji picked me up, surprisingly gentle, and brought me to my futon. His posture was nonchalant, as usual. As neither of us ladies dared talking, he pointed to the door.

"Yeah, I don't think either of us ever dared shouting at Sanan-san like this. Even me. I know not to poke a dragon."

I glared at the brat, but the meaning of his words sunk in. Okita knew, all along, that Hijikata was softer than Sanan. Despite his thundering and bellowing, the Oni vice Commander was still predictable enough; and he loved Sōji too much to harm him. Pulling pranks on Hijikata was like playing with a tiger's tail, but Sanan was a snake. Hidden and placid until you realised – too late – that death looked at you in the eye.

Okita's words sunk in, clearing my scrambled mind.

Even without a functional body, without a title, I could stand my own against a man like him. My strength of will was my worth. I had fought Nazgûls, I could survive this.

On a whim, I stood up and picked up my elvish blade. Chizuru gasped, thinking I was about to attack someone. Sanan, perhaps. I smirked, in my condition, this would be akin to suicide. And even though I was royally pissed, I had no intention to harm my friend.

I left the room as fast as my lungs allowed me to, ignoring Chizuru's cries behind me. Then, in a tremendous effort, hoisted myself up to the rooftop. Staggering, I settled myself in my usual spot and crossed legs. Every single muscle ached from the effort, and my chest burnt like the seventh circle of hell. But damn, I was alive still!

I laid the blade down in front of me.

Come on, Glorfindel. Show me what you've got.

As my breathing evened, I allowed myself to sink into a meditative state. Birds, breeze, leaves shuffling became a background noise. The sun touched my skin, enveloping me in warmth as my heart rate slowed and my rasping breaths abated. Deeper and deeper, I sank within, searching for the light of my beating heart.

Alive, I was alive.

One by one, the people who had shaped me passed in my mind. I didn't linger upon their presence, allowing them to occupy the thinking space without settling on any of them. Yet, I felt their love sinking in, their support, their unwavering benevolence.

Those people loved me, we didn't always see eye to eye, but they cared for me. They gave me worth. The Shinsengumi popped in my mind, friends and makeshift family. Sanan, as well, without judgement, the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Hijikata, brow furrowed in worry. Kondō-san, with those laugh lines around his eyes. Harada, and his trust.

A great ball of light bubbled in my chest, easing the pain, engulfing me whole. I was floating, devoid of weight, tugging at the bind that linked the blade and I together. The elvish sword, too, started to shine. I blinked, opening my eyes to take a look at the real world, only to find the metal getting brighter and brighter. White, blinding light engulfed the blade, and it suddenly sunk in the roof.

I started, watching the handle swish around the dark tiles, the blade vertical under it. I couldn't believe my eyes. The blade had cut through the tiles a neat section, and it now hung vertically.

Impossible.

Yet ... it had happened.

A slow smile crept up my lips as I retrieved the sword, hoping that no one would quite realise the neat slice before I could master this new skill.

Well, that was new.