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@hidetheremote / hidetheremote.tumblr.com

I love reading fanfics. I'm a writer, honestly.
Also known as Lakerae on AO3 and FFN
Currently writing: Omega Nu Iota
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Dancing Lessons

*Happy Super Late Birthday fic for @sabinasanfanfic This is nearly a month late, but I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! I know how much you love this AU!*

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (Please read in this order even though it was not published that way!)

Hijikata took a deep sigh, shaking his head in his hand. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Kondo patted him on the back and chuckled. “Don’t worry, Toshi. Hana’s in great hands.”

“Tell me she’s too young.” Hijikata chewed on his bottom lip, a complete mess of a father as he kept an eagle-eye on his daughter.

“On the contrary, Toshi. She’s a year behind. Honestly, she should have been starting sword lessons at five. But Saito-kun is an excellent teacher. He’ll have her battling rogue samurais by the end of the year.” Kondo barked a laugh, his expression teasing the hell out of his Vice Commander.

Hijikata glared at him, eyes so sharp they could slice a bamboo shoot with one stroke. “That’s not funny, sir.” His nerves were testy, more sensitive than they would be if war was looming around.

Kondo let out another loud laugh, clutching his sides as he walked away. “If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll be by your side in no time.”

Hijikata let out a sigh, though it resembled closer to a growl than a breath of air. Kondo’s words were not a laughing matter, considering that Hijikata completely agreed with him. Hana had her mother’s charm as well as her stubbornness, and somehow, managed to trick her ever-protective father to give her sword lessons.

“Out of the question,” Hijikata said, sipping his green tea. “You don’t need to learn when you have me and the Shinsengumi protecting you.”

“You can’t protect me for the rest of my life, Papa,” Hana said, smiling with her eyes twinkling. Her voice was full of cuteness and glee. She must have really wanted to learn, because it was damn near impossible for Hijikata to reject that face.

“Watch me.” Hijikata’s tone was the opposite of his daughter’s response. It was serious, gritted between his teeth like a challenge that no captain would ever want to take.

Hana huffed, crossing her small arms across her chest and scowling at her stoic father. Hijikata cleared his throat, stifling the smile growing on his face as he watched her silently give him the cold shoulder. She’ll get over it, he thought. He pushed a plate of sliced pears in front of her, like it was a peace offering.

“You should take a more feminine lesson, like calligraphy or dance,” he suggested, flashing her a smirk. “No harm can come from writing and dancing.”

The next day, Hana ran into Hijikata’s office, grinning from ear to ear.

“Papa, that was a great idea! Uncle Hajime agreed to help me with my footwork!” She jumped into her father’s arms, burying her face into his chest. “We start tomorrow!” Her voice lit up the room.

“Footwork? Hana, you misunderstood.,” Hijikata said. He looked into Hana’s eyes, keeping his own face straight and serious. But Hana’s excitement overpowered him, and he could already feel the defeat washing over him. “I said you may learn how to dance. You know, like those street dancers who twirl with scarves and ribbons.”

Hana shook her head fervently. “Footwork, dancing, same thing.” She ran out the room, giggling and squealing. “And instead of twirling ribbons, I’ll just use a sword instead.” Hijikata didn’t bother chasing her. She had already made up her mind. Clever, he thought. She’s such a clever girl.

Hana was in the corner of the courtyard, picking up different wooden swords and testing each one with practice swings. She chose a long and thin one, then turned to her father to get his approval. Hijikata gave her a hesitant smile, but nodded lightly with a silent agreement. She beamed at him and jumped triumphantly.

“Shit. I really don’t like this at all.” Hijikata watched his eager daughter run toward Saito, and for a split second, he saw a glimpse of Chizuru. He reached for his chest, clutching to a fleeting moment he knew he couldn’t keep.

Hijikata sauntered over to Saito, grabbing an arm to pull him in. “If she gets hurt, I’ll cut your left hand off, okay, Saito?” he whispered into the young captain’s ear. After releasing him, Hijikata patted Saito on the back—hard—and smiled brightly at his daughter. “Just giving your Uncle Hajime encouraging words, love,” he chirped. “Carry on.”

Saito nodded lightly, then cleared his throat as he stared into the Vice Commander’s eyes as he walked away. “Lesson number one,” he said, a tremble in his tone. “Do not take threats lightly.”

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