damned_institute | Day 34: Breakfast

[starting off in M13]

The last part of the night was little more than a blur in Homura's mind. The men had rushed in, but not joined them, instead staying off to themselves. Before any of them had a chance to react, however, a voice sounded through the air, mocking some other person Homura had never heard of, and the patients themselves.

To Homura, whoever that man was, he sounded a great deal like a god.

But before he could ask questions, the demi-god found himself no longer in the chapel, but some strange room on a bed. Is that what Kenren had meant from his earlier warning? Homura sat up, glad at least that the world didn't spin when he did so. Then the same man from before began to speak again, with a completely different tone. It was confusing to hear him talk that way, calling them patients instead of prisoners as he had before. Homura listened quietly as the announcement was made, then got out of bed.

Maybe he wouldn't have to go anywhere yet. It wasn't like Homura knew where to go anyway, and that meant he had time. If this was his room, and if he had been here as long as Kenren had said, there was a chance he could find something with answers. The Taisho had even told him that Homura had seen Rinrei. Certainly he would've written something down, made a map, something that could let him find her again! He started with the desk at the end of his bed, first finding a small stack of notebooks. Picking up the first, he flipped through, turning the pages with quickening desperation as he found each one to be blank.

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Homura took the offered seat, though he didn't intend to stay long. Still, he would of course answer the elder's question, letting out a quiet chuckle as he did so. "Well enough. It's strange to hear about myself though. Apparently I'm a bit well known here. As I was." Well known, respected, trusted; all of it was so hard for Homura to come to terms with, simply because it was such a foreign thing for him. Rinrei had accepted him, but she had been the only one to do so. Now, in what for him was little more than the blink of an eye, he found himself in a place where the opposite was true. It was almost intimidating.

"I found something this morning." Homura opened the notebook, carefully tearing out the pages in question before offering them to Kenren. "I suppose I realized something. They're guidelines for you and Hijikata."

Kenren chuckled softly and nodded. "Yeah, I can imagine that. It was weird as hell hearing about myself and the others from you when we first met." He was half fascinated and half terrified by the idea of what had been said about them in the Heavens. He had no idea of the exact words, but didn't doubt that they would have covered up the truth to make them appear the villains. "But yeah, you're well known. The person in charge of one of the clubs here. Lots of people choose to work with you." And he wasn't going to fall into past tense because Homura was still here and alive. Just... different.

He gave Homura a curious look, watching as he tore out a sheet of paper and passed it over. Kenren peered at it, frowning when he saw what it said. "Damn. A plan for every occasion." That was more organised than Kenren would ever be. He lived far too much in the moment usually. Or at least he did here. "Thanks," he said, smiling genuinely at Homura. "I'll make sure things get worked out between me and Hijikata."

"Karma, then." If he had made Kenren feel anything similar to the awkwardness he felt now, then it seemed to fit. Still, even Homura wouldn't say that he deserved what he had experienced, or to lose what he had. Especially since considering the person he was turning out to be seemed almost...admirable.

"The History Club, right?". It was an odd name, but Homura didn't question it. "I'd still like to help however I can, even as I am now.". Perhaps not a Toushin Taishi, but there had to be some way to contribute.

With the notes delivered, Homura stood, returning Kenren's smile with his own. "You're welcome. I should get back to my breakfast now, but I'll find you again later. Excuse me, please." Homura bowed his head, then headed back to his previous table.

Kenren laughed softly and nodded. "Yeah, Karma. It's a real bitch apparently." If what he became was any indication anyway, then Karma had it in for him. For all of them. He didn't cae. He'd done what he had to do.

"The History Club, yes," Kenren replied. "Kind of an odd name, but I think you chose it because a lot of us are kind of outside our time," he explained, not sure how to word it better. "And I know I'd be glad for your help. You're still a good person to have around." Did he think they were just going to abandon him until he got his memories back? Kenren didn't work like that.

He nodded in response, folding the notes and sticking them into his pocket. "Sure. I'll see you later."

[Back to here]

For a moment after Hijikata's eyes opened on the cold white ceiling of his room, it hadn't hurt. Then he tried to move and all his injuries reasserted themselves at once. Two cuts across his stomach, one deeper than the other; then the wound the nurse had left on his shoulder yesterday, reopened, rebandaged. He marshaled himself to stand, ignoring the pain from gashed muscles as he sat up, and was interrupted by the arrival of a nurse.

"You can't do that, Mr. Sugiyama!" He glared at her, but she went on undeterred, "Now, I don't know how you managed to hurt yourself like that in a fall. It was very clumsy of you! You certainly can't walk around in your condition without aggravating it, though. Now, I've brought a wheelchair, so let me just help you out of bed..."

Hijikata gritted his teeth, and reminded himself that spending half the day in here sedated on top of his injury would do no good. He got out of bed on his own, though, and took the two steps to the wheelchair heedless of the nurse's disapproving tut-tuts.

She chattered all the way to the dining hall. He maintained an increasingly shaky grip on his patience. And kept his mouth shut.

Thankfully, after loading his tray up with Western food (mostly inedible, in his opinion) she left him to wheel the idiotic device to the table of his choice.

Even from his seated vantage point, he could recognize Kenren. They hadn't had much time to discuss Homura's condition last night. This morning would do.

Balancing his tray on his knees, he maneuvered towards the other prisoner's table.

Kenren continued eating his food once Homura left, watching him return to who he'd been speaking to previously. He couldn't help but fee protective now, and wary about what would happen on History Club missions from now on. Did Homura even remember how to fight like this? A lot of it was instinct, yes, but not knowing that you had that instinct was dangerous.

He was distracted from his concerned thoughts when he saw Hijikata approaching him in a wheelchair. He'd been in bad shape last night from that creature. Kenren nodded respectfully to him. "Morning. How's Okita holding up?"

Hijikata nodded a greeting back. "Alive," he said, looking around the room for the younger man -- there, stuck in one of the same chairs. With the more severe injury Souji'd received, he was slightly surprised that he wasn't resting.

But it was good to see him cleaner and bandaged and definitively alive.

"And Homura?" he asked, gaze following the departing man.

Day 34: Breakfast

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