What makes history (Hijikata x OC)

Okita

There there, for all of those who are fans of Okita, there is his point of view, at last ! Merry christmas to you all !
I found this picture on the net, and couldn't assess whether it was fanart or from the game. At any rate, if you're the author, I'll add credit. 

Damn that bullet! Damn Chiruzu's twin and her crazy uncle! Damn this stupid war ! But, most of all, all I wanted was to curse the Shōgun to Jigoku to be devoured by demons. But any outburst against the man would hurt Kondō-san, so I grit my teeth, and endured.

Endured the pain that made me weak as a baby, unable to even hold a katana. Endured the uncertainty of war; I worried about my brothers in arms and my men. Raged, to be stuck in Ōsaka while they fought another losing battle in Kyōto. Was there any chance to win if that bastard of a Shōgun had fled?

Slowly, our forces trickled inside the castle, battle weary and wounded. Too many would not make it from the look of their injuries. But they still proudly bore their allegiance, looking for the coward who had left with his tail between his legs. How the Shinsengumi could serve such a man was beyond me; had Kondō finally reached his limits ? How could he defend such a despicable act ? To abandon his troops to die in his name ?

How many of ours would die because of his cowardice ? How many of my students ? I missed them, did they miss me too ? A weary smile bloomed upon my lips despite my best efforts to keep scowling.

No, they probably did not miss my classes.

Better a battlefield rather than the dojo. I snorted in memory of all those inadequate boys, striving to become better swordsmen. Would it all go to waste ? Those hours sweating in the stifling heat, doing a hundred men a day to build up muscles, speed and stamina. I only kept those strong enough to endure my teachings; they were the best.

Is the Shinsengumi going to survive ? We are not soldiers. We are the guardians of Kyōto's peace.

For the first time in forever, as I watched shadows spread upon Kondō's, I saw the frailty of a man stuck between hammer and anvil. Today, he wasn't my idol, neither my adopted father, but just a man. One who could make mistakes and place his trust in the wrong people. A man who, like us all, had lost so many of his followers.

Next to him now stood Iba Hachirō, worse for wear, but alive. I knew the young tengu of Iba enough to know he was appalled, but he would not say a word. But the frown betrayed him. There were other urgent things to discuss. Kondō's eyes glimmered, but he did not shed a tear when the Hatamoto announced that Yamazaki was badly injured, and on his way to the castle for treatment.

Kuso, Yamazaki !

My heart gave an odd lurch, and I hoped the death toll would be gentle on us. Chizuru's cry was painful enough to hear.

"Yamazaki-san ! Oh, no ! I need to prepare to treat him !"

Iba turned to her with a wane smile, his poise remarkable for someone who'd just been on a battlefield for the last three days. I knew, for sure, that I would look like a wild animal, covered in blood and worse. Once more, I cursed Kaore for gunning me down before the battle; I would make that rat pay, tenfold ! His name only made my blood boil with rage.

Iba's hakamashita was covered in crimson lines. I should have been shedding that blood, protecting my company rather than waste away in the bastard Shōgun's castle with nothing to do but seethe. Yamazaki. And so many others. People who had fought beside us when the Shinsengumi were still trying to exist, when the locals spat in our faces and yelled Miburo at our backs.

Iba seemed to hesitate, sliding a glance at Chizuru's distress. The Hatamoto bowed stiffly to Kondō. "We will talk more when I have bathed. The Shinsengumi captains were not far behind us, they should be there before the sun dips."