"Sanan-san !", I called through the door, my whole body vibrating with hope.
A groan was my only response. Shit. I woke him up.
"Kitsu-san ?", came his wavering voice, from the other side of the shōji.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. For a moment, I considered turning tail, and leaving Sanna-san to his sleep. But then, it would be rude, right? Was it urgent? No, Okita could be sick a few more days. But the news would surely be a bombshell.
"I'm sorry I woke you up, I'll come back later."
The shōji slid open, revealing a slightly dazed Sanan, tying the obi over a light green yukata. His squinted eyes struggled to adjust to the bright light outside, and I stood to shield him from the sunrays. The spectacled man frowned, then shooed me inside. For men of the 19th century, they didn't shy away from being caught alone with a woman in a room; I thanked the Valar for not sending me to England at the same period. Conventions would have killed me.
I closed the panel behind the scientist, noticing how little it protected him from sunrays. In my mind, I was already wondering if we could use cloth, or inked paper to make his room darker during the day.
"Is it about your spat with Hijikata-kun? It has been awhile someone stood up to him so bluntly."
I blinked, wondering if the whole compound had heard our shouting match. Laughing with Okita was one thing, but I faced one of the Shinsegumi's leaders now. I hoped fighting with the commander wouldn't require seppuku out of me.
"Am I in trouble?", I asked, slightly worried.
"With him, possibly. With me, not at all."
I exhaled slowly, my good mood returning. Albeit it wouldn't help Hijikata's temper that everyone knew I had shouted at him – and was still alive – it came second in the great scheme of things.
"No. I wouldn't wake you up for something so trivial."
"I'd hardly call being on Hijikata's pissing list trivial."
The familiarity of Sanan's words caused me to pause; probably lack of sleep. I shrugged it off, but the reassurance that he was an ally – or at least, neutral - in that mess felt good. At least, two out of three Captains would probably support me, and Hijikata wasn't the most dangerous of them all. The most dangerous was currently reaching for a discarded pot of tea.
"Tch. Logarithmic. He can't do worse than kill me."
Sanan poured two cold cups of green tea. I accepted the offer with a slight bow as he watched me over the rim of his cup.
"The perspective of death doesn't seem to faze you much," he stated, oddly detached.
This was his usual prodding tone; the political one. I obliged albeit very briefly: "He won't kill me for a spat. And I've stopped counting the times I've brushed death. I'll worry when I'm facing his blade…"
A dark eyebrow lifted in amusement, and he took a sip of tea. His face didn't betray the bitterness of the brew that had turned during the night.
"So what it this about ?", his silky voice asked.
"Sōji."
Sanan's grey eyes narrowed; I had his full attention now.
"What has he done now?"
I shook my head; if the Colonel thought I was going to drag him from restful slumber for one of Okita's pranks, he was sorely mistaken about my age.
"Consumption."
Sanan's whole countenance seemed to sag, and wary lines marred the beautiful features of his face. In this moment, he sported all the weight of his thirty-five years.
"So you have found out."
"Yes. And I might have an idea…"
His back stiffened, calling the warrior within me to attention.
"I have read all the possible treaties over the disease. Neither the occidental world nor Chinese medicine has found a satisfactory solution. Okita has, at best, another year to live."
"Sanan-san. I do not wish to give false hope. But even though you avoid the subject as I do, you know where I come from. I carry medicine that had yet to be discovered."
The scientist perked up at this, hope shining in his eyes. And behind hope, that deep, unwavering affection came through … coated in tears that would never be shed. He swallowed another mouthful of bitter tea to ground himself.
"Could it be true?"
"We need to read each and every notice, but I think I might have enough for a month's treatment. There were no resistance to antibiotics in the 19th century. It could work."
"And if it doesn't? Kitsu-san, better despair than false hope."
He was right; I wasn't 100% sure that it would cure him. In the modern world, consumption was cured with a cocktail of antibiotics on the long term. But I didn't have that in my purse. Yet, I had four different ones, enough to last a month. The basics of travelling to the Middle Ages.
"If it doesn't, he'll get temporary relief. The disease will come back, months from now, and start anew. What does he have to lose ?"
For a moment, Sanan-san seemed suspended in time, his pale skin almost translucent in the harsh light of this summer morning.
"Would you work on this with me?", I pressed.
He nodded stiffly, setting his cup down with shaking hands.
"You were right to wake me up, Frances-san."
Fingers crossed being my back, I extracted all the boxes from my bag. Then, a game of reading and bantering started. I didn't know much about consumption, either than it was a nasty lung bacteria. Sanan extracted a book, Traité de l'Auscultation Médiate, by Laennec. I ignored than the man responsible for my subway stop had died of tuberculosis, a hundred years before my time. Yet, his book gave us a lot of insigh on the disease. But nothing on its mode of action, and reproduction.
Sanan was almost giddy when he realised that, being French, I could translate the whole book easily. My mood sobered when, five hours after dawn, I still ignored if the bacteria was aerobia, or not. If it hid inside the cells, or remained outside. The research had simply not been done yet.
To think that a simple click on google or Wikipedia could have saved Sōji ! It made me crazy not to know… I swore to myself that I would study more when I returned home on the basics of medicine. Maybe create a notebook of sorts with useful tips. I never wanted to feel like this again, like I should have known but had failed at studying the right things. Of what use would be to know the water phase diagram, uh ?
Frustrated, I relied on Sanan to center me. At some point, we drank more tea, and debated about our findings. The man was nothing if not organised, and he analysed all clues with the accuracy of a doctor.
It took hours for us to decide upon posology, and the right combination of streptomycin – which reported to be used against tuberculosis in the instructions – and shiitake fungi. Those were supposed to strengthen his defences. The result was satisfactory, but I hoped that no one had been infected by Okita's coughing. Emotionally spend, Sanan and I realised we'd missed lunch.
But hell, it was worth it! Perhaps, someday, we would see Sōji play with the children once more! I was literally bouncing when I returned to the common room for dinner this evening. I was starving, and neither Hijikata's icy glares, nor Okita's speculative glances soured my mood as I devoured rice balls and raw fish.
I certainly didn't expect Okita to explode, an hour later, like a quasar when Sanan explained that we might have a solution for his mortal disease.
"Don't tell me you want me to drink Ochimizu!"
I gasped, too tired of the day's work to call upon my usual patience. Sanan's grey eyes flashed, but he remained collected despite the harshness of Okita's accusation. The man would never, ever force Ochimizu upon one he held so dear; the consequences were too dire.
Days hunting for a diagnostic, hours spent scrambling our brains, all the while thinking of Okita's future. For his benefit. And this is what he had to say?
Blood boiling, I jumped to my feet, surprising both men in the room.
"Okita Sōji !", I thundered. "Will you stop behaving like a brat for five fucking minutes, and use your wits!" Stunned silence met my outburst, and I realised I was so tightly wound that my chest hurt. "Whatever your deal is," I went on, "Shed it aside and use your brain."
A tug on my sleeve caused me to meet Sanan's gaze. There was no reprobation in his eyes, only the desire to go on; ever the pragmatist. I relented and sat, tucking my legs underneath as was proper for a lady. Okita cocked his head aside, studying me with an unnerving expression.
"What? Yelling at Hijikata-san wasn't enough? It's my turn now?"
"Sōji-kun !", Sanan intervened sternly. "Kistu-san and myself worked on this for hours, and I have some confidence it may work. If you mean to demean our efforts, do not forget to shut the door on your way out."
I shuddered under Sanan's scolding; he had not raised his voice, neither threatened nor blackmailed. His silky voice was even, like icy water running over skin, so cold that it could crystallise on sight. But I'd be damned if I wanted to take Okita's place right now. The first captain's usual cockiness melted, revealing a chastised boy underneath. For a moment, I repressed the urge to hug him, for the personality that peeked through his bangs was that of an abandoned, wounded boy.
"I'm listening, onii-san."
My hands grabbed fistfuls of my kimono in anticipation for the conversation to come. Strangely, it went smoothly; Sanan really was a magician. Okita listened raptly to the technicalities of what consumption was, and the substance we were about to try. Whether the scientist got carried away, or drowned Okita in layers of technical words on purpose to give him a chance to apprehend how little he knew about it, I was unsure. But the fact was that it kept Sōji silent.
Thank the Valar for small victories.
The sun set, and Sanan seemed to grow in stature as shadows lengthened in the room.
"So, will you take it?" he eventually asked.
Okita mused, sitting cross legged in the scientist's dark office.
"Shouldn't we ask Kondō-san and Hijikata-san first?"
Good point, shouldn't the Shinsengumi commanders be aware of Okita's condition already? Sanan, it seemed, didn't seem fazed by the secret he was keeping from his comrades.
"This is your health, Sōji-kun. And they do not know yet what ails you. Once you improve, I will inform them."
The captain nodded thoughtfully; eyes fixed upon the tatami mat. For a moment, they reflected the fading light, seeming almost green. It made me long for forests and moss, for the freedom I had in middle earth.
"What if it doesn't work?"
My heart twisted in my chest; Okita had just started to hope. And with the promise of a life, his life, came the fear that we might all fail. I swallowed thickly.
"The disease will return, in time. And claim your life."
Sōji's features hardened.
"I'd do anything to get back to my patrols. Any month I gain is better than nothing."
This was the closest to an assent I'd ever heard him utter. But Sanan wasn't satisfied, neither was I.
"You will need to respect the posology to the letter, and get lots of rest," he started. "Even though you might feel better within a few days, it is imperative that you allow your body to reduce the damage your lungs have sustained and to restore its own immunity."
The captain shrugged, dismissing our concerns with the back of his hand.
"I'm strong."
"Obviously not," I retorted harshly." You wouldn't have this disease in the first place of you were. It means nutrients were missing in the first place."
His eyes flashed in annoyance, and the brat returned.
"There's no need to get insulting, Kitsu."
I exhaled through my nose; the immune system would be unknown for at least a hundred more years. It was no use explaining T lymphocytes to a dying man that insisted on training to the very limit.
"This is science. Not everyone that catches that germ gets sick. If you push your body too far, it isn't strong enough to fight back. The molecule we use is akin to munitions. But if you don't take care of your inner soldiers, fat chance munitions and guns are going to be useful."
"Sōji-kun, you need to understand that this medicine is rare and precious. We can try only once. There won't be anymore if it fails."
Okita's features didn't move an inch, but his eyes showed how conflicted he was about us using resources on him.
"Perhaps … perhaps you should keep it for someone else, then…"
"If this is what you want…", Sanan drawled.
In a flash, the abandoned child returned; Okita would refuse the gift of life, too busy finding himself unworthy. Damn, he gave me whiplash with his moods, I wondered how Chizuru was able to handle him. A light bulb lit in my brain was I found the leverage that would, no doubt, convince him.
"Listen. You're probably the only one with Sanan-san and Hijikata-san able to protect Chizuru. Saitō's unfortunately gone, that leaves only three of you to do the job."
Something sparkled in his eyes, some longing, deep within, that came with the promise of a future.
"You could, Kitsu. Amagiri said he wouldn't fight you."
"Kazama would. That punk… and he would crush me."
The corner of Okita's lips lifted in a smirk; it promised retribution.
"I see your point."
We sealed our deal in silence; there were no words needed, for Okita's life hung in the balance. It was far too precious to waste with anything other than an inner promise.
"So, western medicine, Sanan-san? I am surprised Mastumoto-sensei didn't hear about it."
"It hasn't been invented yet," I deadpanned.
Okita's eyes widened slightly, and I pressed my point.
"I'm the Keeper of Time, what do you think it means?"
The look upon his face was priceless. Rendering Sōji speechless was a victory I'd bask in for years to come.
I know. This time, Frances really fucks up history, eh ? But it just broke my heart to allow Soji to die this way. He derserved so much more. More glory, more fights, more love. Even though he's a brat with trust issues.