What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Vice Commanders

On a very cold day, Chizuru actually joined us, her shoulders slumped.

"Oi Chizuru-chan, come and get by the brazier," Heisuke called out to her.

The little lady settled, a frown still marring her features.

"What's up?" Shinpachi asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"Ah ... nothing. Hijikata-san said that patrols were getting rougher, so I couldn't join. I guess I was just used to being a part of it."

I caught Harada's amber eyes for a moment; the debate whether to keep patrolling wasn't closed yet. I had no doubt he was privy to the inner turmoil. Being Kondō's page, I was present when the issue was raised that, without official duty, our men might start tearing at the seams. Though, The Shinsengumi were no longer appointed with Kyōto's safety. It was a dilemma that our three commanders had chosen to delay, for now, by keeping the patrols.

"Well, Chizuru. You're right in time to hear the battle of Helm's deep," I smirked.

The little woman's head perked up, and her big doe eyes twinkled with mischief. Sure, she wasn't too skilled with a blade, and not a fighter. But she understood warriors like no one else.

I kept the tremors from running up my spine as I plunged back into the bleak wall of Helm's deep. It wasn't so difficult, after all, to set up the scene. That stupid rain that soaked everything, wet and cold droplets sneaking under the collar of the brand new armour Galadriel had offered me. I'd never forget the sight of ten thousand orcs massing under the wall, chanting their war cries as we stood upon the call in a sea of darkness.

Of Aragorn's voice, calling in elvish to hold our arrows. Of the chaos that ensued when we released, and the battle started.

As I spun the story of Aragorn of the war of the ring, the witch King of Angmar, the Nazgûl, a weight lifted off my chest. To tell fellow warriors of those people I'd known, those battles I'd fought ... it was an incredible relief to actually share with comrades who understood what it might have been.

Of course, I kept my name out of it. The characters of the fellowship were great enough that none needed my presence to make the tale lively. The fact that I'd been in the thick of it didn't really matter after all. As I tried to describe how Saruman's device had blown up the wall, a silky voice greeted us from through the shōji.

"Heisuke-kun. May I come in?"

Heisuke drawled a 'Hai' and the door slid open, revealing a dumbfounded Colonel.

"Sumimasen. I wasn't aware I interrupted a gathering. I just came to check on Heisuke-kun."

I turned to Sanan-san with a welcoming smile; our impromptu discussions were not as regular as they used to be with all that training weighing down on me ... and my newfound closeness with Hijikata. I felt a certain tension in the room that Sanan couldn't possibly ignore, but he bore it with grace. There was such nobility in his poise, such refinery in his features ... but the purpose embedded deep in his grey eyes never faltered, and it put former friends on edge.

The Rasetsu, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Never a word higher than the rest, with the presence of a predator. I wondered idly if I wasn't affected as much because I'd known deadly and slightly unhinged people before, or only because I'd never known him before he drunk the Ochimizu. The truth was that I didn't care; Sanan was my friend, and he worked himself to the bone for the Shinsengumi. He didn't deserve the cold shoulder.

"Will you sit with us, Sanan-san? The battle is almost over, then we'll leave Heisuke to his beauty sleep."

"The battle?"