Hey ! I've got a few new favourites on this story, which I am proud and happy about. But no review, which makes me sad. Please let me know how you feel. I want to see things through your eyes, if you can relate to the characters, which is your favourite, if you can get in frances' shoes or not. I'm so curious to know how those words and chapters I work on make you feel.

I love, for example, quiet moments like the one from the previous chapter, with people conversing and drinking. Does it appeal to you ? Or do you find it boring ? Is Frances background explained enough ?

Please let me know, press the review button ! I would never blackmail reviews like some author do (demanding that many before they post again) but it is important, for a writer, to get feedbacks.

Cheers to you all.

"Chizuru, wait up!"

The young woman stopped in her tracks, eyeing me suspiciously. Breakfast had occurred as usual, but without Hijikata-san. Which, in turn, had worried both Kondō-san and Chizuru to the point where she had hurried to the kitchen to brew more tea. Of course, the raucous laughter between Shinpachi and Harada had reassured Kyokuchō than nothing was amiss aside from, probably, a splitting headache.

I, on the other side, was pretty antsy to return to him just in case. He'd slept rather fitfully, and I hoped he wouldn't feel too bad upon awakening. Or need to puke his bowels out. Hence my mad dash to get an aspirin before I intercepted Chizuru on her way to his rooms.

"I'll handle that, Chizuru."

Her lips thinned stubbornly as she held on to her tray.

"I'm Hijikata-san's page, Kitsu-san. It is my role."

I started at that, wondering when the little lady had grown such a spine. Then, I realised she was probably worried we kept something from her.

"He'll be fine, Chizuru. Just had a late night with the baka trio, and would beneficiate from a few more hours or sleep. He probably won't wake if it's me."

Her brown eyes widened, catching the bright light from the brisk morning. It smelt like snow, the air crisp and clear, and I took a delighted whiff of the cold air. For a moment, I saw her debate whether she should check on him for herself, or let it go. Then, at last, she relinquished her hold upon the tray and bowed.

"I trust you to take care of him."

"Arigato, Chizuru-chan."

As I watched her leave, I smiled to myself; Fukuchō probably didn't realise how many people cared about him so deeply. I slid the shōji open as discreetly as I could, and closed it behind me. The bundle buried under the cover barely stirred, so I just set the tray down and dropped a few more coals in the brazier. I glanced at the paperwork, wondering if he would allow me to help, if only to classify it and organise the sending and receiving part of it.

Fukuchō wasn't prone to asking help, and his page already ran to and fro, doing more chores than was humanly possible. Good thing she was an Oni with strength and stamina aplenty. Sitting still in the silent room, I wondered what to do. Then, I gently laid on my side on the edge of the futon, and closed my eyes. Toshizō's warmth seeped through the cover, and I found his peaceful breathing appeasing.

For a moment, I had no trouble applying the principles of the Zen philosophy, and enjoyed the present without my brain pulling its usual crap. My eyes eventually closed against the brightening light that filtered through the rice paper partition.

"Kitsu ?"

Had I drifted off? Eyes flying open, I found a pair of dark orbs observing me from the futon.

"Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. How are you feeling?"

"Like a drum settled in my head. I'll survive."

He stirred to sit up, and winced in the process. He passed a weary hand over his features.

"I surmised I missed breakfast."

"Hai. But don't worry, Chizuru made sure that breakfast came to you instead."

Turning, he eyed the tray suspiciously.

"Ah," he exhaled. "I don't think I can eat right now."

I gave him a toothy grimace; his stomach probably wasn't too happy.

"I've got some medicine for your headache. And warm tea."

His eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Medicine?"

After all, Hijikata was the main provider of medicine in the compound, and I doubted he asked Yamazaki for clues on how to survive a hangover.

"Yes, from my world. Against the headache."

"Is it worth wasting?"

I blinked at the notion. Wasting? Dark eyes interrogated me, half squinted against the sunlight. Toshizō was easier to read when in pain, and I saw the doubt etched upon his features. Did he think himself not valuable enough to have an aspirin? Sure, the supply was scarce enough, and we might need it later on. But aspirin had equivalents in this era – unlike antibiotics. One dose wouldn't make a world of difference, especially if it could boost a good man's ego. And spare him some pain.

"Nothing is wasted on you," I replied with conviction.

Tch, he scoffed. I slightly reddened; when had I turned into a lovesick fool, eh? For a moment, I thought he would refuse it altogether, but he eventually relented – giving a clue of the level of pain he was experiencing. I diluted the powder into a cup of tea and gave him the lukewarm liquid. Hijikata swallowed it in one go and sighed.

"Arigatō, Kitsu. Did I miss anything?"

"No. I would have woken you up. Do you remember last night?"

A blush crept up his cheek for a moment, embarrassment written all over his features.

"I never forget, even when I'm barely conscious."

That makes two of us. Funny, how alike we are.

"Good," I nodded. "Speaking of which, can I offer my help dealing with those papers? With being Kondō's page, I've got quite efficient at sorting, sending and labelling stuff."

… and reading from left to right.

Dark eyes locked onto mine, unreadable. Something flickered within their depth, reluctance that I wanted to crush. His lips thinned, and I tried, very hard, to understand what the issue was with me helping without taking offence.

"Kitsu…", he sighed.

It had learnt, by now, that saying no was rude in Japan. Hence the reason why they called him the Demon Vice Commander; Fukuchō was the only one who could outwardly say 'no' when warranted. He wouldn't talk in circles, or lessen the blow. His bluntness caused others to think him rude; I, for my part, appreciated it.

So, if he wasn't refusing, it meant he was thinking about it. The answer clicked in my brain in this very moment; Fukuchō didn't trust anyone with Shinsengumi's dealings. He didn't believe in the burden shared…

"Trouble delegating?", I asked.

A smile lifted the corner of his lips.

"How well you know me."

"Listen, we can try with menial things. If it's not up to your standards, I'll find something else to do to lessen your workload."

I knew my worth; after spending so much time in high-level studies, I could pull off many things. But I wasn't arrogant enough to think I could excel at a task he'd been doing for years. Still, there must have been something I could do. Toshizō's hand lifted shyly, landing upon my cheek. His index tapped twice over my skin, as if to ask…

"Why?"

His eyes were so intense that I nearly felt the need to lower my gaze. But I loved getting lost within their depths; they conveyed a world of untold emotions. Slapping myself – mentally – I tried to explain my reasons.

"Remember when you helped me after my breakdown? You said it was nice to feel useful to me. Well… It would be nice to have you need me once in a while … so that I'm not a potted bonsai."

His eyes squinted at the corner; he was inwardly laughing at me. Then, I felt his hand slide to my nape. One tug was all it took for me to lose my balance and stumble all over him.

"Get down there," he growled. "I'll show you about being a decorative tree."

I muffled a squeal, taken aback by his playful mood before he wrapped me in his arms, and pulled the cover over us both. His hakamashita was all crumpled, but it smelt deliciously like him. I inhaled sharply when his lips landed at my neck, filled up with nothing but his scent. Toshizō's mouth was relentless, his arms travelling from my spine, to cupping my nape and my lower back. I found myself a bumbling mess in no time.

At last, even the great commander needed to breathe. He paused, his chest heaving against mine.

"But your headache?", I stammered.

And it was mid-morning. I could only hope no one would stumble upon us… Thank God I'd told Chizuru I would watch over him; she might keep the others at bay.

"The headache will have to wait," he murmured in my ear. A nip at my chin caused me to meet his beautiful eyes. "I'm used to it. It hurts every day because of Okita's antics, or Chizuru's ability to run into trouble, or the thousand things that made me a commander."

"Those two are certainly a handful," I sighed.

This effectively killed the mood, but I didn't mind much; settled against him under the warm cover was the best place in the world. My hands reached for his tousled hair, smoothing it down gently. A river of obsidian flew through my fingers, soft and heavy. Toshizō watched me, his gaze intense; I hoped the headache was receding when he asked suddenly.

"What did Sōji say?"

I froze. For days, I had wondered whether one of the three commanders would ask me, exactly, why the brat and I had fought. I should have trusted Toshizō to await the right opportunity.

"He said…"

No, he spat, actually. Those few words. Once more, Hijikata-san gets the girl.

"He insinuated that I'd find out soon enough that good looks was your only worth."

And that I was just one amongst many.

He snorted then, his hand cupping my cheek.

"It wasn't worth risking seppuku."

Toshizō's expression was gentle, but the flicker of fear in his eyes caused my heart to thump. Sōji's mockery had pushed me to blow a fuse; I wasn't proud of it. Still, I was unsure about how much to reveal. A captain badmouthing the Fukuchō might ensue disciplinary actions.

"I was ready to turn tail, but he really pissed me off. I understand why he's angry, big brother complex and all that jazz. But that gives him no right to demean what you're accomplishing here, as Vice Commander."

Two sharp eyebrows climbed upon a tall forehead, while an incredulous smile started creeping up his lips.

"So you were defending my honour?"

I blushed, my stomach plummeting down. When it came to breaking the rules, defending a man's honour probably was very high on the list of 'don't'. I tried to cover my blunder, but laughter was already bubbling in my chest.

"And mine as well. As if I'd choose a man only for his good looks. Tch!"

This time, Toshizō joined me and I soon dissolved into giggles. It felt so good to laugh without a care in the world, his low rumble mixing with my higher pitch. We laughed for a long time, me, nestled over his chest. He, just watching the ceiling as he chuckled.

"You're really something else, Kitsu."

I smiled; a typical Japanese compliment. One that said everything and nothing at the same time.

The gentle noise of people coming and going eventually caused us both to separate; Fukuchō was needed to keep the Shinsengumi afloat. As I sat once more and started rolling up his futon, he settled in front of his desk with a sigh; something weighed heavily upon his mind, and I wondered what was written in those scrolls. Once the heavy bundle was stowed safely in the low cupboard, I kissed his temple. To see him so disheartened pinched my heart.

Nose lingering at his temple, I took a whiff of his faint scent before pulling away. His hand upon my forearm effectively stopped me; slender fingers gently caressed my inner wrist as Hijikata refused to meet my eyes.

"Kitsu…", he breathed.

The insecurity of his tone caused me to frown. What could be so distressing that the fearless Oni no Fukuchō had trouble saying ? He, who mentioned assassination without battling an eyelash ? Wrestling my heartbeats to a reasonable pace, I sat on my haunches and waited.

"There is something we must address," his eyes eventually capturing mine.

So formal. So serious.

"Hai ?"

"Children."

I blinked; what did he mean ? I felt my cheeks heat up, and I ducked my head slightly. Toshizō groaned, bringing his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"We haven't been too careful," he started. I snorted then, this was an understatement. Given the number of mistresses he had probably entertained in Kyōto, he surely knew means to prevent pregnancy. Or the ladies did, at least. Who knew the stern Vice Commander would have allowed himself to get carried away ? It was a great compliment, but given his uneasy expression, he was probably stewing in his own shame about it.

"I know an herbalist…"

I cut him off at once.

"You need not worry about that. I have a device under my skin that prevents me from conceiving."

Instead of relief, his features morphed in anger. I gaped; his mood swings still surprised me. Indignation rolled off him so strongly that I felt it in my bones.

"Who did that to you ?" he growled.

I gasped, surprised by the intensity of his wrath; did he believe I had been submitted to some sick experiment or whatnot in the future ? So I smiled, and reached for his hand and kissed his palm soothingly.

"Myself, so I can travel without the hindrance of bleeding. It is common medicine where I come from, and my own choice."

Dark eyebrows rose up as the very notion rolled through his mind. Probably realising that, yes, I'd never asked for supplies to handle my period.

"Do not worry, we're safe for at least another half year… or so. We'll worry about it when my cycles return, all right ?"

Sturdy shoulders slightly slumped, and I realised the present that modern medicine offered us right now; companionship, without any kind of commitment.

"Your medicine is astonishing."

"Yes, it's convenient. Saved my life a few times, and prevents me from having to struggle with feminine issues when I'm walking on a military campaign."

This time the Vice Commander chuckled.

"I get your point," before he added, his voice low. "That's… a relief."

Did he think I would rebuke him for refusing pregnancy ? I guessed every woman dreamt of chubby babies sharing their beloved's traits. I mercilessly crushed that feminine part of me that dreamt of making him a father – a major turn-on. We were warriors; children had no place in war.

"I bet. Call me if I can help."

We parted with one last, heated kiss – I wasn't averse to practising babies - and he called my name right when I passed the door.

"Thank you. The headache is milder now."

I smirked.

"See. Nothing is ever wasted on you."

His expression softened, the usual line between his eyebrows disappearing. I bowed, then, and left him to his paperwork. Hopefully, he would think on my proposal and find something I could help with.

So, I bet they had to have that conversation, right ?