I have been neglecting you, my apologies. Life is a bitch at the moment.

Chapitre 1. Stranded

The world, strangely, still existed. And I had not turned into a ghost yet, or a spirit, or whatever Tristan had pulled off when he died. Ghost didn't feel pain, right ?

I drifted in and out of consciousness, the heavy weight pressing down on my lungs, mind hazy. My mind was a blur; I couldn't keep a line of thinking as light and dark took turns at my bedside. I was lost, most of the time, in fitful nightmares and horrible dreams of drowning. Too weak to lift up my pinky.

Sometime, a familiar touch squeezed my fingers tight, pulling me out of nightmarish delirium. It grounded me in that reality, preventing my mind from drifing away, trapped in a maze of traumatic experiences. There were so many … too many. All my energy was concentrated on keeping oxygen in my lungs… there was none left to keep demons at bay.

And so they plagued my dreams. The people I couldn't save joined those I had killed, hissing at me, their eyes accusing. I had nothing to say to my defense as I watched them die, some of them by my blade. Others, because I was just a helpless girl playing with swords, a human found wanting for lack of skill, and lack of courage. Friends, even, frowned up me. Aragorn, scolding me for leaving. Arthur, shunning me because I had abandoned his newly appointed knights of the round table.

My ex-husband, accusing me of jumping into the portal of the necklace…

They were right, all of them, and I drowned in their reproaches, tears leaking down my cheeks. A gentle touch wiped them away. Low voices pulled me out of the water, once more, and I found enough air to remain partially conscious. Night had settled, crickets sung and a slight breeze caressed my face where the shōji remained ajar.

"Get some rest, Hijikata-kun", a silky voice sounded by my side. "I'll take the next watch."

"Keisuke…", the other man responded, squeezing my fingers. "You saved her life."

There was a moment of silence, heavy with meaning. So scarcely did I hear Sanan's name uttered by one of his comrades. It was a nice name, after all … my head was floating with lack of oxygen again, but I felt someone shuffle by my side.

"The contact helps when she gets agitated."

"But it doesn't stop the tears", Sanan mused.

"No" the low voice added. "Do you think she is in pain ?"

"There is pain, yes", Sanan responded gently "But I doubt it is the cause."

Another loaded silence filled the room, and my barely conscious mind marvelled that they would know me so well. Perhaps the fact that I had never shed a tear when Harada took a chunk of my arm off was a giveway regaring my tolerance to pain.

"The laudanum can invite nightmares. Kitsu-kun has a troubled past", the Colonel chanced, shifting in a shuffle of hakamas.

"Yes. It seems as agitated as ours", Hijikata murmured, his rumbling tones soothing; I would never forget how it sounded in the dead of the night. Safety and strength.

"Three wars", Sanan mused, his smooth voice dissolving in the cicada's singing.

Before my watcher could leave, I managed to squeeze his warm fingers. A noise echoed at the back of his throat, filling me with hope.

Still alive.

A whispered conversation ensued that I was too far gone to follow. I drifted away, once more, like a balloon of helium caught by stratospheric winds. My mind snorted; another geology analogy.

Eventually, a bright light greeted my blurry eyes the next morning. Yamazaki rushed out before I could stop him and brought Sanan back with him. The scientist explained I had ingested cyanide, and that the merchant responsible for giving it to Chizuru was already gone.

I didn't quite care for the culprit; he wasn't the commanditer, and it wouldn't prevent Itō-sod from trying to kill me again. I learnt I had been dosed with activated charcoal – the first liquid – to suck every bit of cyanide they could, then Cobalt who was known to counteract the effects of cyanide.

Relief was etched upon Sanan's features, but the fatigue marked them deeply.

"I am alright, now", I told him. "Perhaps you could catch on this much needed sleep?"

The man blinked at me, then smirked. Anyone would have been thoroughly appalled by my gall.

"Your bluntness if refreshing. But you are right. You have been out for two days, and I feared that your body and mind would be impaired. It is a relief to see you awake and alert."

I frowned; come to think of it, I had trouble remembering basic things, and struggle to follow one line of thought. Was it the aftereffect of cyanide in my brain, lack of oxygen, or just the shock of spending two days in a near coma?

As for my body, the simple act of moving a limb around felt like climbing the Everest. I struggled to sit up in my futon, the simple action draining my energy. Damn. I felt as rested after a week struggling against the flu.

Sanan scolded me gently, but rushed to help me up with a worried glance. Sitting was tiresome enough; now that I had managed to fold my legs under the covers, I would never move them again.

"Is everyone else alright?", I asked.

"Yes, if a little tighly wound. Nothing a patrol cannot cure."

"Chizuru ?"

A short silence greeted my question before Sanan's grey eyes narrowed slightly.

"Feeling guilty, as expected. She kept a careful watch over you those past days, and will be overjoyed to hear you feel better."

"You mean alive and not completely bonkers", I snorted.

I spotted the slight curl of his lips, but his amusement died soon enough. Too much was left unsaid, and I was too tired to extract it from them. In all matters, Sanan would never reveal anything he didn't want to, be it by ruse or gentle coaxing. That man had a heart of steel, and an uncorruptible mind.

"Well", I nodded. "Perhaps she and I can have dinner together in my room this evening. If she is amenable. I need to talk to her."

"She will appreciate it. In the meantime, we will keep dosing you with cobalt until your respiratory functions are fully restored."

I grimaced, fully aware that the slightest move caused my heart to race uncomfortably, and my chest to tighten. Yep, not out of the woods yet.

"Do you think it is possible ?", I asked.

Sanan's smile never reached his eyes.

"I don't know, Kitsu-kun. I have written to Mastumoto-sensei. This is experimental medicine, at best. I'm afraid our skills are not as advanced as your modern medicine."

I nodded, allowing him to take his leave when Yamazaki appeared. The young man explained he would monitor my functions as long as the cobalt treatment lasted. In short, I was the guinea pig to an attempt to keep my brain and lungs in working order after the dose of cyanide I had swallowed.

Had Sanan not heard of cobalt use in Europe against cyanide poisoning, I'd probably be dead by now. I owed both of them my life, and made sure to thank Yamazaki profusely. The ninja just offered me an unreadable look and set a tray with a teapot before me. Tea … and two cups.

"You are welcome", he eventually said before he disappeared on the engawa, a gust of wind the only witness of his disappearance. I shook my head, slowly, a smile tugging at my lips. I took a whiff of my green tea, relishing in that wave of soothing fragrance to wash over my body. The Shinsengumi harboured so many different characters, all of them unique, all of them lovable.

From kind Kondō-san to cunning Sanan-san, gentle, yet fierce Harada and boisteruous but loyal Shinpachi, Okita who could kill with a smile upon his face, silent and dangerous Saitō to Yamazaki's disappearing skills … the ninja was the oppositie of their Fukuchō. No one could ignore Hijikata-san, his best efforts to be inconscpicuous were laugable at best. His very presence commanded a room, his voice raising goosebumps in anyone's flesh.

The shōji nearly rattled when it was violently pushed open and I smiled in my cup of tea, lifting my eyes to find the very object of my musings.

"What are you doing up?", Hijikata boomed, a familiar crease of annoyance etched upon his brow.

My smile only grew; I was so very fond of the way every single molecule in the air had to shift to give him space. Hijikata was a tornado that laid waste upon us, poor mortals. How a man could muster so much energy at all times baffled me, but I found his worry more adorable than frightening.

"I am glad to see you too", I responded.

The heartfelt response caused his eyebrows to knit in confusion. Rouge crept up his cheeks, and my eyes widened slightly; was that a blush? Hijikata sent me a glare, then sunk on a cushion with a huff.

"You are lucky I am not in the Fukuchō mood", he responded, his voice so close to a whine that my smile broadened. My poisoning had no doubt stirred events for the Shinsengumi that needed the Commander's presence. Perhaps it would do him good to unwind, even for five minutes.

"I am glad you are not", I answered truthfully. "I find meeting the man behind the title enjoyable."

Our gazes locked for an instant; he seemed utterly baffled by my admittance. For a moment, his features were open for me to read. I saw the young man he'd been, the child, even, whose older sister used to boss around. I was about to try to pour some tea for him when his hands stopped me.

"Don't overtax yourself, Kitsu. You should not even be sitting."

The ease with which he filled his own cup and settled back on the cushion caused my jealousy to flare. Right now, I felt so drained that the simple action of bringing it to my lips was tiresome. I doubted Hijikata would address the elephant in the room; namely, the way I had clung to his sleeve as I dry drowned. Now that things had returned to normal, I felt self conscious about those blooming feelings.

Instead, I choose to tease him for his overprotectiveness. Better to laugh than to revisit those horrible moments.

"I understand how Okita felt when you fussed over him."

Poor Sōji must have gone stir crazy, being looked after by both Hijikata and Sanan at the same time. If being stranded bruised my ego, I couldn't even fathom how crushing weakness felt for a warrior. Yet, I understood now that the stern tone meant Hijikata cared; a heartwarming thought. One I clung to as he watched me over the rim of his cup.

"Well, he won't need it anymore, thanks to you."

I heard his gratitude as if he had voiced the words, and slighty bowed my head. Speaking of Sōji, I wondered how he had reacted to Itō's attempt to kill Chizuru.

"I bet he was pretty upset someone tried to poison Chizuru", I mused.

Hijikata tensed in front of me, conflicting emotions danced in his eyes. I captured a fleeting flash just in time: guilt. What did he feel guilty for?

"What's wrong? What else happened?"

Hijikata set his cup down upon the platter with a clang, and I wondered how it didn't shatter in his very hands.

"She gave you the damn things in the first place!", he growled.

Where did that anger come from? Tense shoulders, jaw set, he was everybit the Oni no Fukuchō right now and I swallowed a mouthful tea to keep my composure. Annoyance didn't even begin to describe what swirled around him in aggressive waves. Hijikata-san was downright livid.

"Oh my…", I mentally facepalmed. "Did you yell at her?"

His eyes returned to the floor in the closest sheepish expression I'd ever seen upon his face; there, it explained the guilt now. Poor Chizuru. Rather than throw anger at him, I tried to explain what went on in a teenager's mind filled with love and puppies.

"She's not used to people trying to kill her."

For a moment, I wondered if my words actually crossed that invisible barrier between us; Hijikata's knuckles turned white upon his thigh. Would he yell at me if I pressed my point, or relent? Sometimes, his swinging moods threw me out for a loop. All that tension caused my chest to tighten again and I took a shuddering breath. At once, worry returned to his features but I lifted a hand.

"Chizuru would have died as well, she ate most of the sweets. Thank the Valar she is an Oni."

A long moment passed during which he probably considered his comeback. Then, a long sigh passed his lips, and I knew I had won this round. Of course, Oni no Fukuchō woul never admit it, hence his gruff stone as he stared me down.

"But you are not. So heed Yamazaki and Sanan's advice, and keep your strength."

I was too tired to bite his head off about patronizing me; instead, I chose to be a reaonsable woman.

"I am, and always have been capable of assessing my own health. I know my limits, unlike some of your captains, and would be very grateful if you could extend your trust to my judgment."

Hijikata paused, his eyes travelling in the room around me. Elvish sword on the stand, a lamp –yey – and writing material, a few clothes stowed away. It wasn't much, but it suited me just fine. Was he taking the measure of who I was? Assessing if I'd be a pain in the ass like Sōji, or a total badass like Saitō?

"Very well", he eventually nodded. "Keep your word, and I will keep the … ah, fussing minimal."

A fond smile bloomed upon my face at his hesitation. There was an awkwardness to the man that Fukuchō didn't have. When Toshizō surfaced below the layers of the commander, his words were less secure, more poetic, somehow.

"Fukuchō!", came a voice from the outside.

Hijikata straightened, and the commander was back in the blink of an eye.

"Yamazaki … Hairi."

Incredible, how he knew the voice of all his subordinates with just a word. The door slid open, revealing the ninja with another tray. Blue powder sat in a ceramic bowl, along with warm liquid that I assumed to be water mingled with herbs.

"I bring Kitsu-san's medicine. Kondō-san and the captains await you in the common room."

We both nodded to the man, and I watched, mesmerised, as he prepared a liquid that I was supposed to down in one go.

Liquid smurf, yuck.

I stole a glance to Hijikata who looked equally puzzled, and we shared a grimace before Yamazaki handed me the bowl.

"You need to drain it, then wash it away with tea", the spy instructed.

"Neat. Blue is my favourite colour, after all."

Hijikata squinted; I'd never told him that his choice of kimono had touched my heart so deeply. I gave him a slight smile before he stood; I mourned that this private audience came to its end. After all, none of us had yelled or tempested at each other this time. More frustrating was the fact that I couldn't join the meeting; already, my eyelids stung. I lifted my bowl to Hijikata.

"To your health, Fukuchō."

I hoped it would remind him of our agreement; I'll take care of my health, and he'll stop fussing about it and order me around while healing. This should cut short any arguments between us. Surpinsingly, Hijikata's eyes narrowed slightly, and his expression suddenly turned thunderous.

"Drink to Itō's health. He'll die for what he's done."

I gaped, the bowl stuck halfway between hand and mouth when he turned tail, leaving a devastated landscape in his wake.

What?