What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Compromise

Our relationship was doomed for the start.

I was barely breathing at that point, my back straight, sitting upon my legs in the traditional seiza position. Who, of the commander or the man, would win that battle? I knew, at last, what I wanted; to be by his side to the end. Yet, I would abide by his decision. Hijikata crossed his legs once more, and reached for a strand of my bouncing hair.

His eyes, intense, studied it in the poor light of burning ambers. Stuck between his index and his thumb, the ringlet seemed akin to loops of fire. I watched him, mesmerised by the flames dancing around his pale skin. Eventually, he released the ringlet.

"Your light draws me in, Kitsu. You remind me of the person I was before. Serizawa ... he pushed me to become an Oni, to do what it takes to pull the Shinsengumi up the ladder."

Bless Kondō for explaining to me how the Roshigumi had become the Shinsengumi. Else, I would have ignored who Serizawa was altogether. The same man Hijikata had killed with a blade to the chest after he became a Rasetsu. A former ally, with methods of a demon, and the strength of will of a God. But no ethics.

"It's refreshing to find someone that still strives to keep this fire blazing. Sanan-san lost it after... well, you know."

I understood, now, why Hijikata and I saw eye to eye; our ideals danced in resonance. This naivety that he had lost still lived within me, because the Keeper of Time was still true to its principles. Somehow, my refusal to assassinate Itō had hurt him, but also pushed him back to consider his methods.

No judgement, but a reflection of his past self. Someone he missed. My resolve grew, then; I would strive to keep this light within myself, if only to remind him that his wasn't altogether dead. I would be the Keeper of Time to the end.

"I understand Hijikata-san."

"Hai. I knew you would."

Subtle praise, warming my insides at once. This great man trusted me, and I wouldn't disappoint. But I needed to know if I would be allowed, in the long winter nights, to cuddle by his side or just watch him from afar struggle with his great too many responsibilities.

"Where do we stand?", I heard myself ask.

Hijikata's gaze softened at the words, and he cocked his head aside, as if considering the wiseness of pursuing a relationship with me.

"I find pleasure in your companionship."

"But ...?"

His eyes turned sharp, that violet hue flashing in the dim light of the brazier.

"But you know nothing official can come out of it, if only because there are no wives allowed in the compound."

Wife. Such a great word! I felt my face heat up, and refrained the need to bow to the tatami. Chizuru's manners were really rubbing off on me, but I wasn't a schoolgirl anymore. Hijikata's eyes were boring holes into mine; he waited for a reaction. From the harsh, tense line of his shoulders, he might even expect an explosion altogether.

How little he knew me.

"I'm flattered. Really, that you would deem me worthy enough to be a wife."

Not his – the very thought was preposterous - but wife material nonetheless. His embarrassed silence – there was so much being unsaid, and that should remain so – gave me leave for a little self-depreciation. Wife. As if. I didn't brawl like a man, but I fought like one. Tending to a house, shopping for food every day, children, doing social calls and practising diplomacy were not part of my skill set. Definitely not. Thank the Valar I was born in a modern era.