Dayshift 34: Men's Showers

[0bnoxious.livejournal.com]

Albel had wasted an entire night, but he couldn't quite figure out how he had actually wasted it. He had left his room early, didn't stand around doing nothing and no pathetic worm had dragged him down. Finding Fayt's room and smack the foolish maggot against the nearest wall shouldn't have taken a full night, but yet he found himself back in his bed before he even had so much as located the right door.

What the hell?!

But he didn't have much time to think about it, as one of the wenches instantly stepped into his room as soon he sat up. Had she had been waiting behind the door or something? He ignored her useless babble along the way to the showers. Apparently, he had slept through most of the day. Perhaps the lack of sleep was taking it's toll, though the warrior wouldn't even think about admitting that thought. And who cared about it anyway? The days were useless!

By the looks of things, Albel was the first one to arrive. Not that he cared. After stripping himself of his clothing he stepped inside the shower area and picked a stall by random. It took some fiddling with the knobs before the water temperature was good enough, but he eventually let the water wash over his body.

[Free!]

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[screwthegods]

Homura obliged, offering no more help that Okita had asked for. The sense of relief at Okita's acceptance without malice couldn't be denied, and Homura returned to his own washing, rinsing off the last of the suds from his body. He had the chance to listen to Okita's words as he did, the man's sentiments very much seeming to echo what the demi-god though Kenren might believe about the situation.

Simply a different side come out to play.

"It doesn't sound like he or I--" again, a compromise "ever got much of a break. I already know that I became the Toushin Taishi. That title is the worse curse the gods could inflict on one of their own." Homura had no illusions, even as he was now. The role was the closest Heaven could come to a true death sentence. To have given it to Homura meant that the gods must have gotten impatient with his new found will to live.

He gave Okita his hand again when it was needed, moving the other to the man's back without realizing it. The gesture was innocent, a light touch only to help Okita sense if he was falling, and nothing more. But now a new question had entered his mind, something he couldn't help but wonder about. For him, it had only been recently that he'd been released from a prison around his soul, that he understood what the desire to live actually felt like. "Okita."

He had to ask. With everything he heard, everything he had become, Homura had to know that at least one thing wasn't in vein. "Do you think that I was satisfied, with how I was living? Not being trapped here, but in my actions and my choices. With...myself."

That would be the key, Homura thought, to seeing if the gods had truly managed to break him, and to seeing if those five hundred years lost were worth missing at all.

[notachick.livejournal.com]

The worst curse, perhaps, but one that Homura had taken and made his own. Okita had never known gods before coming here, but Homura embodied what he'd always thought they should be. Certainly, he was confident, at times arrogant, but he was also competent and fair. He offered choices and respected them. Even when the choice went against his own wishes. "Perhaps, but--"

The touch at his back set him on edge and Okita stiffened. No one touched his back. Even allies knew that it was a sore spot for him, but at the moment - he had to remind himself of this - Homura did not know that. He turned slightly to move the hand away from such a vulnerable location, smiling up at the demi-god to let him know there were no hard feelings - just years of training.

And then came Homura's question. "Your choices were your own and you valued that ability to choose more than anything. I don't believe you would have done what you did if you were not satisfied with it and yourself." He still remembered how Homura commanded his title, really owned it when he needed to - it had been impressive enough that Okita had turned to him as a leader. "And people believed in you, Homura-san. They still do. Enough that they were willing to die for you and your cause."

[screwthegods]

Okita had been on the verge of saying something, but his words cut off, and Homura frowned in concern. He didn't understand what had broken off the other man, not until Okita turned, breaking contact with the demi-gods hand. Even then, Homura didn't understand why, but Okita's smile served as reassurance, and perhaps a silent plea. With a small nod, Homura let that hand fall to his side again.

He thought over Okita's answer, a faint smile playing at his lips. Valuing the ability to choose. Homura could certainly see that, since he had had so little choice in his life. He had not opted to be born as he was, and yet every day he lived under the pressure of it. Even freedom from the literal prison of Heaven was nothing more than an illusion, sending him into the Heavens in hopes that Homura would succumb to the despair. Then he had met Rinrei, and what that had begun--

A man people were willing to die for. Homura couldn't help a swell of pride at hearing that, mixed with an equal amount of sadness.

"Thank you, Okita." Homura felt better for the talk they'd had, certainly. Despite what others such as Sanzo might think, Homura decided then that the person he had become was someone worth becoming, and perhaps it would be possible to turn that way again.

At that moment, however, Homura was struck by the fact that the entire conversation had been about himself, and none of it about Okita. Of course the demi-god was curious to find out about this man as well, the one person he had asked to save Rinrei. Smiling to him, Homura chuckled lightly. "Would you tell me about yourself? I would like to get to know you again, if you wouldn't mind."