Day 28: Bus 2

[misterprince.livejournal.com]

The group hadn't made it to the Twin Pines before the nurses started ushering them back to the buses. Sanji didn't believe the small sack dinner he was handed would make up for the meal they would have had at the restaurant, and aside from that he'd still wanted to check the place out. Now he had no way of comparing it to what they served at the asylum and he couldn't help but wonder if the staff had planned it that way.

Somehow in the large crowd of patients and nurses he lost track of his crewmates, something that seemed to be occurring just as often as Usopp warned it would. He had their room numbers now, though. He would find them tonight if not before.

His dinner was eaten quickly and he found it lacking, but he wouldn't complain. What he really needed was a cigarette. Bringing it up on the walk down Main Street earlier had only made him think about it more, and now he was just irritable. He tapped a light broken rhythm on the plastic pane of his window, staring out at the other patients as they were loaded into the buses also.

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Okita slid his gaze over to Kenshin. His usual smile was gone, replaced with a thin line of tension. Sedation was great for making Okita slow, but it also reduced his inhibitions. Certainly, it calmed him down, but relaxation wasn't exactly something the swordsman needed. What he really needed was restraint, but no amount of drugs or training had been able to give him that.

"I never said he had to be kid- kidnapped," he said, stuttering over the words in his haste. The worst case scenario was that Hijikata had been kidnapped at one point, but that he had been killed by now. Or that he left-- but that was impossible. Okita turned to face Kenshin and awarded him a smile that had no mirth behind it. "I don't believe the Battousai is entirely gone, Himura-san. You changed on the stairs that night - we all saw it. Y-you're not as harmless as you try to be."

Leaning back in his seat, Okita let his head rest against the glass. Even though it was frightfully cold now that the sun was leaving the sky, it felt good. "...but until I have evin... evident... evidence against your word, I'll believe you. Finding him is my first priort... priority, but don't think I've forgotten you." He smirked again, this time out at the darkness around the bus. "Or that I share your reserv... reservations about killing despite Homura-san's request."

[degozaruyo.livejournal.com]

Kenshin winced. The comment about Battousai--which probably hadn't even been meant as an insult--had obviously hit a nerve. He was silent for several minutes, looking past Okita to the failing light outside of the window.

"This one knows," he said eventually. "This one knows that he cannot completely suppress his killer's instincts, no matter how hard he tries." Even though he had finally mastered Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu and attained its final secret, he could never escape his past. "This one was only nine or ten when he first picked up a sword."

He sighed, relieved, when Okita said that he would believe him for the time being. Shaking his head, he grimaced as the movement sent another spasm of pain down his side.

"This one was aware of that, even before now. You're much more powerful as a martial artist than you look, Okita-dono."

[notachick.livejournal.com]

He knew it. He knew there was no way to entirely leave the blood-stained path they both walked. Somehow, hearing Kenshin acknowledge that made Okita feel a little closer to the other man. Okita also wished he could leave all the killing behind, but he knew it was the only thing he'd ever be able to do. It was second nature to him, and seeing Kenshin walk so carefree through life after leaving it behind had bothered Okita to the core. Demons like them weren't supposed to be able to do that - not entirely. It was part of the pain that came with choosing their way of life.

Nine or ten... Okita's smile disappeared and he looked away. How old had he been when he picked up the Kikuichimonji? Because he had defeated that man and taken the katana, his father had died. His mother had followed. Yet because he had wielded a sword, he had met Hijikata and Kondou, and all the others. At the age of nine, he entered the Shieikan and given up his humanity. "Nine...huh?"

He and Kenshin were getting too similar. How hard would it be to kill him later if the chance arose? It wasn't like Okita couldn't do it, but he was beginning to think he wouldn't want to. Keeping his gaze out the window, he faintly smiled and idly tapped the glass. He could see Kenshin grimace in pain and wondered just how badly he'd gotten hurt. The incident with the slide had been rather...violent, but had it been as bad as that? "Pot calling the kettle black, Himura-san. You're faster than should be possible. I look forward to some night when we can really get at each other." He paused and dragged the pad of his forefinger down the glass, right over Kenshin's reflection. "Are you hurt badly?"

[degozaruyo.livejournal.com]

It had been hard for Kenshin to admit to himself that he could never completely bury his past. Suppressing the killer that he was only lead to explosions, like with Saitou and Jin-E. It was only through the extreme self-control that it had taken to master Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu that he could keep Battousai in check...and even that was not completely assured, as he had learned last night on the stairs. "Still..." he added softly, "this one has to try. There is far too much weighing on his sword for him not to." Kaoru-dono, Sano, Yahiko, and all the others. It was the sakabatou that held their odd little family together.

Kenshin knew that Okita had also picked up the sword at a young age. In fact, it was one of the things the Shinsengumi had boasted about. Okita Souji, the boy genius swordsman. A master teaching in Mibu's dojo by his early twenties.

"The man who would become this one's master saved this one's life when he was a small boy. Then he gave this one a sword and the name Kenshin, and began to teach him Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu. Then, when this one was fourteen, he ran away to join the Kiheitai. From there, Katsura-sensei tapped him to come to Kyoto and become hitokiri."

He watched Okita drawing on the glass and smiled a little. "That's the Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu," he replied honestly. "It is a style based, at least in part, on speed. It was developed during the Sengoku period, pitting one opponent against many. Speed is crucial." He pointedly chose to ignore Okita's desire for a fight.

Kenshin laughed a little, but it soon turned into a painful cough. He wasn't coughing up any new blood anymore (always a good thing), but there was still some old blood in the back of his throat, apparently. He did his best to discreetly wipe it on his jeans. No need to bring back any bad memories for Okita. "Nothing that Homura's healing blood can't fix," he said eventually.

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That determination to do the near impossible - Okita admired that, but he would never admit it. He hoped Kenshin could succeed where countless others had failed. It meant there was hope for all of them who had stained their hands red in the name of some cause or another. "You have someone to protect then?" he asked, keeping his head against the glass as he continued to trace patterns on it. "That's good."

Okita was with Kenshin up until he ran away, then he subtly frowned. Running away from the person who saved one's life seemed a poor way to pay them back. No matter what Hijikata and Kondou did, Okita stayed with them. Then again, Kenshin's situation was probably quite a bit different. The Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryuu? It seemed like it should be familiar and yet Okita couldn't remember hearing of any such style. Perhaps it was just because he'd never run into it. "Such an interesting style... It must be strong if you're that fast. And running off to Kyoto seems to have worked out for you."

Whether he meant that as an insult or a compliment was unclear, but he blew hot air on the glass and drew a little piglet in the condensation as if he hadn't said a thing. He kept puffing on the cool glass until he had a little parade of them running around. "Hahaha, it looks like Saizou."

He glanced up when Kenshin coughed and saw him wiping something off on his jeans. He didn't need to see it to know what it was and he felt his body freeze. He could smell it - metallic, thick and familiar. He knew the sound it made. He'd been coughing like that for months before the Ikedaya when it had finally decided to make itself truly known. A cold. It was healed now. It had to have been just a mere cold. At least, that's what he told himself. There was no way Kenshin could have gotten that from him, though. It had to be something else. He hated how he couldn't hide his emotions as well with the drugs in his system, and his hand shook a little before he was able to catch himself. "...internal injuries, is it?"

[degozaruyo.livejournal.com]

Kenshin smiled. "Several someones," he said, almost wistfully. "It's a very strange little group, but they are the closest thing that this one has had to a family in many years." It was a recipe for disaster when Himura Kenshin, of all people, was the responsible one, but...well, he needed them as much as they needed him.

It was anyone's guess whether Okita was being sincere or sarcastic, so Kenshin decided to play it safe. He was going to laugh it off and talk about how young and foolish he had been, running off to join the Choushuu, but then Okita was changing the topic yet again.

"Who's Saizou?" he asked interestedly, looking at the pigs. With the slowly vanishing mist on the glass, and the way Okita had drawn them, they almost looked like they were running away from something.

He flinched when he realized that the other swordsman had noticed the blood. It must have been frightening for him, to see that. Kenshin wondered if, even know, Okita knew that the consumption would kill him. After all, it had killed so many others.

"...Not severe, but yet," he said finally. "Just some bruising. That was old blood, from this morning. This one isn't ill. You have no need to be worried, Okita-dono."

[notachick.livejournal.com]

It was just another thing that he and Kenshin had in common - mismatched families. The Shinsengumi were the closest thing Okita had, but they weren't exactly what someone would call a conventional group. Figuring out who the mother of the Shinsengumi was would probably cause someone's head to explode - most likely Hijikata. Tetsu was definitely the puppy/little brother though. At least that role was clear.

Okita, however, didn't want to find things in common with Kenshin. Knowing his enemy was making him less of one, and that could be dangerous if Kenshin's intentions weren't as innocent as they seemed. The swordsman stared into the glass, ignoring the Battousai's first question for the more pressing matter of the blood on his jeans. Ill? Why would he need to worry? The little voice at the back of his head knew, but he ignored that all the time. It was too much of a bother, too difficult to think about, and he didn't want to waste his time. After an uncomfortably long silence, Okita was able to smile again and let himself lose to the drugs.

It was easier to be in a haze than to process what Kenshin had just intimated. He laughed and blew on the glass again. "That's good! I don't want you making everyone else catch your cold!"

He traced out a new line of piglets and flowers, tapping his masterpiece with his forefinger. "Saizou is my pet piglet. Isn't he cute? He has a whooooole family, but he's the one I take care of. He likes to play fetch!"

[degozaruyo.livejournal.com]

The drugs were making it harder for Okita to hide his feelings. While the other swordsman was by no means transparent, Kenshin was still getting a pretty good idea of what was going through his head. Obviously, he was striking nerves that Okita did not want struck. Out of respect for the samurai, he decided to draw back a bit. He had probably been probing too far, anyway.

Kenshin smiled. "No, the last thing that this one wants is to make others sick! Imagine being ill in this place, on top of everything else. That would be awful."

He cocked his head to the side, watching Okita draw more little Saizous. A pet piglet? Who would have known?

"...This one didn't even know that pigs could play fetch," he admitted.

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"It would be awful," Okita drawled. He drew a little bone for his piglet and turned to his meal as the fog drawing disappeared. Bread and meat put together apparently constituted a meal in the future. Okita found himself yet again disappointed in what lay ahead for Japan should the Shinsengumi fail. "Being stuck in bed is just the worst! It's so boring and no one lets you play at all."

He was silently relieved that Kenshin had backed off the subject of family. It brought back such unpleasant memories for him - things he'd buried so deep he didn't think anything could bring them back. Drugs were so unpleasant. He didn't know how Hijikata could stand to smoke.

Turning to Kenshin, Okita put on his best serious face and nodded as if he were divulging the greatest secret known to man. "Piglets can be very determined," he said, making his point by waving his sandwich once. "They are much smarter than people think and have quite an attitude when you let them relax a little. Saizou likes to think he can beat up anyone at the temple." Okita paused and burst out laughing. "He's chased Tetsu-kun around the garden more than once!"