Chapter Text
The cold wind rustled through the wooden walls of the Shinsengumi headquarters as Chizuru kept her gaze lowered, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Her breath formed tiny clouds in the air, matching the chill that lingered between her and Hijikata.
That intense night felt like a distant dream—one that she couldn’t quite touch, and left her tangled in confusion and regret. If she got her hands on Sen again… The room was silent except for the soft murmur coming from the courtyard; it felt like they were in a world of their own.
Hijikata, sitting at his low desk, hadn’t really looked at her once since the night they’d shared. His long dark hair, so black it shimmered with hints of blue under the dim light, was tied back in a ponytail. The ends swayed slightly as he sat at his desk, poring over reports as if the world had returned to normal. His sharp features were set in an unreadable expression, but the tension in his posture told a different story. His tall frame loomed over the papers, the flickering candlelight catching the faint tremor of his hands as he flipped through countless pages.
But it was his eyes that caught her attention more than anything. Dark, almost obsidian, with the faintest hue of violet, as deep and unreadable as the night. When their eyes met for the briefest moment, something in her chest tightened; he quickly looked away, his gaze shifting back to the papers, hiding emotions she could only guess at.
She now wished it would all disappear, as if it had never happened. But the memory of his touch lingered in her body, in the silence between them, as tangible as the weight of his unspoken words.
She shifted slightly, her breath catching in her throat when Hijikata’s gaze flickered briefly in her direction. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and then he quickly looked away, refocusing on the papers in front of him. The sharpness of his rejection hit her like a cold wave, and the words she had been holding back surged in her chest; she swallowed them down.
There was no use poking the dragon.
Did Hijikata regret it? Did he see her as nothing more than a fleeting distraction, a moment of weakness in an otherwise disciplined life? She couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t want to push him, not when the lines between them were so blurred. Better to lay low rather than lose his favour forever; her heart wouldn't take it.
Chizuru sighed; she didn’t know how much longer she could live in this painful silence. The stillness stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Neither of them moved.
In her man's disguise, she felt every inch of her small stature press against the floor. They all dwarfed her, obviously, but HE more than most.
"Chizuru," Hijikata finally spoke, his voice a low murmur, but it carried the weight of someone who had been holding something in for far too long.
She looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His eyes were hard and unreadable, but there was something about the way he held himself—his stiff shoulders, his jaw clenched tight—that told her everything she needed to know.
"...I don’t know what to say," he admitted, the words laced with a tension she hadn’t expected. “Let’s just… pretend it never happened. We’ve got enough on our plates without complicating things.”
Chizuru’s stomach twisted painfully at his words, but she nodded, though her heart felt heavier with each passing second. She wasn’t sure if she could pretend, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. Not now, not when she could barely hold herself together. The last thing she wanted was to add to his burden.
With one final, lingering glance, Hijikata unfolded his long limbs and walked toward the door, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Chizuru’s breath caught again, but she didn’t speak, knowing that whatever was left unsaid between them was perhaps better left that way—for now.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Chizuru was left alone in the stillness of the room, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and unspoken emotions. Her hands trembled as she gripped the edges of her sleeves, trying to steady herself, but there was no escape from the ache in her chest.
The memory of his touch, his kiss, was still there, haunting her with every beat of her heart. Who could forget the heat of him as he buried himself in her plush body ? The trails of fire his lips had left upon her skin ? The sight of him, completely unleashed as he crushed her against the partition wall ?
The sight of his ponytail dancing behind his tall frame, unyielding posture and determined steps made her pause; perhaps she had dreamt it all after all.