damned_institute | Day 38: Game Room

Getting away from the people who didn't know him to spend some time with someone who did was an odd sort of relief. He didn't have to hide everything from the others in the History Club, taking a weight off his shoulders. It was nice not having to hide, even if he wished some things had remained unknown.

Led into the Game Room, Okita looked around for his playmate for the shift and smiled when he spotted him. He knew he couldn't sneak up on the man, but that didn't stop him from trying. Slipping through the room, Okita moved up behind Homura and then dropped his hands over the demi-god's eyes, grinning wide. "Guess who~?"

Of course Homura had heard the approach, but he didn't turn, despite the wariness that had gone with it. It wasn't exactly hard to guess exactly whose hands were over his face, but he grinned, deciding to go along with the game. "Guessing, is it?" Reaching up, Homura ran his hands over Okita's, his touch lighter than one might suspect he'd be capable of. From fingertips to wrists, Homura's kept his touch deliberate, as if he needed to do so in order to figure out the mysterious person's identity.

"Hmm. Could it be Okita?" Taking the now-known man's hands in his, Homura pulled them away from his face so he could turn his head. Favoring Okita with a smirk over his shoulder, Homura chuckled softly. "You seem to be in good spirits. Has your day gone well?"

Okita had to stop himself from giggling when Homura ran his fingers over his hands. The touch was unexpectedly light and because of that, it tickled like nothing else. Biting his lip, he managed to keep quiet at least until Homura reached his wrists. Thankfully, though, Homura soon pulled his hands away and Okita avoided the embarrassment of breaking into laughter.

Grinning down at the demi-god, Okita tilted his head to the side to look into Homura's face. "Buu, you're no fun if you guess correctly the first time!" In a brief glance around the room, Okita confirmed who was nearby and who wasn't, then returned his gaze to the man in front of him. He could see Sano and his little girlfriend a bit away, but they weren't paying attention to Okita and Homura, so that meant it was likely safe to talk. "I've had a relaxing day. Have you?"

"Oh? I didn't realize we were playing a game where I had to lose." Homura obviously wasn't apologetic, despite having apparently done it wrong. "Next time I suppose you'll just have to make it harder for me to guess, won't you?"

The man looked around, and Homura could only assume that he was taking note of who was around them. He'd already seen Sagara when he came in, but there seemed to be no one else of real interest. Okita might have been of the same opinion, because Homura couldn't detect any change in his demeanor when he spoke again. "I wouldn't call it relaxing, but it's been enjoyable enough, I suppose. This morning I took care of business with our Weaver, then I spoke to a boy who thinks I'm illogical for believing I'm a god with magic powers. And then during lunch I was approached by a woman who was rather interesting."

One who Homura knew Okita was familiar with, but he didn't say that out loud. He knew Okita wanted that connection kept secret for the time being, and he would respect that choice. "But all of that is business, isn't it? And I believe you wanted to meet with me to play a game."

"Well, it's no fun if you win right away, is it? You're supposed to play, Homura-san." Okita smiled down at the god and then twisted his wrists a little, not enough to get Homura to let go, but enough to let him know he was still being held. Now that the initial teasing was over, it felt odd to be held in one spot like that. Outwardly, however, he made sure to keep any sort of discomfort off his face. "And yes, I suppose I will."

Adelheid, that Brainiac boy and Ayumu - Homura certainly had a productive day. Okita had seen the note about Adel's condition, but since Homura didn't seem particularly worried, he supposed things would turn out alright. As for the boy who scoffed at magic, Okita had seen the messages flying about on that one. He was an interesting sort, but rather silly to believe only what he could see with his eyes. Ayumu was a far more pressing matter and he did need to speak to Homura about it, but he needed a more natural lead-in to do so.

"Business is important, too, but yes, games." Touching his middle and ring fingers to his thumbs on both hands, he made little foxes and nodded them at Homura. "You said you didn't know many, right? Shall I teach you a simple one you can play anywhere?"

Homura didn't need the reminder that he hadn't let go, since it wasn't something he had forgotten, or an accident. When Okita twisted his wrists, the demi-god's smirk only grew, and he gave the hands in his own a squeeze, almost as if he misunderstood the signal. Clearly that wasn't the case, but there were some sorts of games that Homura did know how to play, and rather well at that.

Still, he had a feeling Okita would grow uncomfortable if he held on for too long. Before he released the man, however, he tugged Okita's hands down, forcing the man closer to him for a just a moment before he let go.

All part of the game.

"Not of the kind you're referring to." Homura motioned to the seat beside him, somehow thinking it might be better if they actually faced each other for the moment. "I'd be interested to learn, however." Innocent games, ones not driven by ambitions towards power. It'd certainly be something new to the demi-god.

The squeeze was a little unexpected and Okita gave the demi-god a curious look. What was he trying at now? Certainly, he'd been forward before, but today he was in a particularly good mood or else just a particularly playful one. Okita wasn't entirely unfamiliar with Homura's choice in 'games' as he'd seen them firsthand a few too many times. Here and there with other people and once with him in the chapel and one more time, and most unfavorably, with Hijikata. Raising an eyebrow, he was about to pull his hands again when Homura beat him to it, drawing him uncomfortably close.

Surprised as he was, Okita didn't have a chance to react before his hands were released and he was allowed to stand up and move away. Homura was definitely playful today. Dropping his hands behind his back, Okita turned around and plopped himself down into the chair next to the demi-god. How was he going to bring up Ayumu? He supposed he'd figure something out sooner or later.

"It's a really easy game!" he said, grinning as if his personal bubble hadn't just been invaded a moment ago. Holding out his fist, he showed it to Homura like an eager child. "It's called 'janken'! You play it by making a rock-" He showed his fist. "Paper." He opened his hand. "Or scissors." He folded three fingers back to show his first and middle finger in a mime of a pair of scissors. "And try to beat the other person! Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, and paper beats rock. There's even a song, but it's really easy. You just go-" And here, he made sure to do the hand motions with his words, fisting his hand again as he sang, "Rock, paper, scissors, go!"

At 'go,' he threw a pair of scissors and grinned. "See? It's easy!"

Homura noticed Okita didn't comment on his actions, so the demi-god didn't either. Instead, he focused on the instructions, which were indeed quite easy. It seemed to be something of a child's game, though one he could certainly win each time if he studied Okita's hand movements. Of course, the other swordsman had speed on his side, something that would make the task more difficult.

Even as he thought these things, however, Homura got the distinct impression that he wasn't supposed to be taking the game quite so seriously.

"It does seem rather uncomplicated." Homura practiced the motions, though he was curious just how a paper beat a rock. "So what does the winner get?"

Homura seemed to be taking this game far more seriously than he should have. Okita, for his part, just laughed quietly behind a hand as he watched the demi-god practice. If Hijikata ever complained about having to do 'brat' things like playing games with him, the captain would be sure to inform him that even gods play games. And a god of war at that. "Smile a little, Homura-san. This game isn't a matter of life and death."

A prize was certainly never anything he'd thought of before. The game was meant to be played for the simple pleasure of playing. Sometimes he had janken'd with the other children to see who would be It for tag games though. "How about the winner gets to choose?" That was potentially dangerous, but then no risk, no glory, right?

Homura hadn't realized just how serious his expression much have been; when Okita told him to smile, he looked at the man in confusion at first. After a moment, however, he chuckled, closing his eyes as he took Okita up on his suggestion. "I suppose it's in my nature to do everything I can to win." That was the point of playing, wasn't it? Or so Homura thought. But even as he did, the god suspected Okita might disagree.

The wager was certainly interesting, however, and Homura raised an eyebrow as he looked at his friend. "Are you certain that's what you'd like it to be?" Playful indeed, Homura met Okita's gaze, his grin turning sly. "Perhaps I'll pick something that pushes your limits, Okita. Is that something you really want?"

"That's not the point of playing," Okita teased, wagging a finger at the other man. It wasn't that he could read minds, but he knew well enough how to read people. Homura had a win or nothing personality (like some other people Okita knew), so he had no doubts in his mind what 'play' meant to him. Taking a moment, Okita fidgeted on the chair, trying to get comfortable, and eventually gave up, tucking just one leg beneath him rather than two.

Pressing his fingertips together, Okita steepled his fingers in his lap and smiled innocently at Homura. Of course he knew just how bad things could get, but he had been careful the prize. Nowhere was there a promise that he had to comply. "I trust you to exercise your best judgment, Homura-san, seeing how we're only playing a game, not gambling for something precious."

Homura had to laugh as Okita chided him almost as he thought the words. He might very well be becoming too predictable if he was so easily read. "Do you know how long it's been since I've done something innocent?" Since his days with Rinrei, no doubt. All the memories had come back into place, felt so natural now it seemed they were never gone. That person he'd been for those few days certainly was closer than he'd been for centuries, but already the distance was growing again. "It's almost unnatural to me, in a way."

A pang of regret came with the thought, but Homura quickly brushed it aside. What he had become wasn't likely to change, and he had enough regrets already. There was no point in indulging those thoughts now, missing what he'd already lost while letting this new opportunity slip through his fingers.

Okita was wrong to say he wasn't playing for something precious. But Homura only grinned.

"I'll try not to make you too angry with me, then." Yet where was the fun if he didn't push? Moving beyond the boundaries of the comfort zone, or pushing others past theirs; Homura had made a passtime of it, particularly when the limits were too narrow for his tastes.

But first, he had to win. Holding out a hand as Okita had during the demonstration, Homura met the other man's gaze. "Are you ready to begin?"

Unnatural as it may have been for Homura, making people do the unusual was Okita's talent. At least, in certain ways. He'd always been able to pull Hijikata away from the work desk and out for a walk which inevitably turned into Okita getting a bag of candy. Sometimes two if he was especially sneaky about it. Brushing the hair out of his face, Okita smiled at Homura. "Then I suppose I'm pushing your usual limits, hm? Looks like I've already won at least one victory."

The swordsman's smile didn't diminish as Homura teased about not making him too angry. He still had his ace in the hole about actually agreeing to follow with whatever the winner picked, so he didn't mind playing for whatever stakes Homura had in mind. Okita had to admit he was curious to see what the demi-god thought he could get out of him from a game, too. Just how far would Homura push and what sort of things did the man want when he thought he had a clear path to them?

Holding his fist out again, Okita grinned. "Of course I am." Motioning with his hands, he recited the words, making sure that Homura was with him. At 'go,' he again threw scissors and then looked to see what Homura had thrown.

"So it would seem." And it was a victory Homura was more than willing to let Okita have. Despite everything, in this moment the other man seemed almost gleeful. While Homura's ordeal from the night they'd been taken appeared to be at its end, Okita's was just beginning. Having experienced that weight, the knowledge of death approaching, stealing away time before his dreams could be lived out, Homura understood just how well it stayed in the thoughts. There was no distraction that could erase the awareness completely.

But if he could lessen its pounding in Okita's mind, even temporarily, Homura would gladly do so.

When Okita held out his fist, Homura did the same. He didn't go quite so far as to say the chant just yet, but when Okita said go, Homura opted to throw rock--the right choice, it seemed. Letting his grin grow wider, Homura looked at the man across from him. "And perhaps it will be your only victory today. Now just what should I have you do, Okita?"

Homura had his own ideas, of course. But it could be fun watching the man try to save himself.

Well...that was one way to start a game. He hadn't expected to lose so soon when the stakes were so high. Then again, it was just for fun, so there was no reason to get twisted into knots just yet. Homura still had to choose his reward after all. With a childish pout at having lost, Okita dropped his hands into his lap to await his fate. "I did say that the winner could choose, didn't I?"

And even though he'd lost, he was still having fun. He had the chance to see what Homura wanted from him - not that he really had any idea what he had that the demi-god didn't. Perhaps a promise to find Rinrei, or another dried flower. Heaven forbid that he asked for one of Okita's precious candies, especially the ones that Heiji had given him. Speaking of, he needed to thank the detective for those. More than that though, he was given a chance to play and whether he won or lost, it reminded him of home and of the life he led before things got so very complicated.

"So," he started, looking to Homura curiously. "What do you choose?"

"What indeed." Homura considered it, watching Okita for a moment. Then, without warning, he reached for one of Okita's hands, but only to take it rather gently in his.

"I'd like you to answer something for me. Honestly." Not that Homura didn't trust Okita. But he did know the man, and he knew how evasive Okita could get when he wanted. He would play and he would flirt, but there was a distinct boundary that he also never crossed.

"What exactly is it about touch that bothers you?" Homura raised Okita's hand up to his mouth, as if he were about to kiss the back of it--almost. Instead he held it close enough for Okita to feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, holding the other man's eyes with his own. "Or is it simply my touch that you don't care for?"

Okita reflexively jerked back slightly when Homura reached out to take his hand. Even though the touch was gentle, Okita's instinct was strong and he disliked the feeling of anyone hold his hand. It meant he had one less to have open should an enemy come at them - not that enemies were around during the day, but Okita could never be too careful. His eyes went to Homura's hand and he stared at it as Homura made his request.

It wasn't a question he couldn't answer, but it wasn't one he exactly liked to think of. As the demi-god raised Okita's hand to his lips, Okita stiffened, but didn't pull away. With Homura looking at him like that, he couldn't - nor could he avert his gaze. This was a test and he could overcome it. "Honestly?" he repeated, the traces of his earlier smile slowly fading. If Homura wanted honesty, he'd give it to him. "I simply dislike being touched unless absolutely necessary. People's hands are unclean." Okita paused and looked down at his hand again. He could feel Homura's breath on his skin and the last of his smile disappeared. He knew the disease couldn't transfer anymore, but old habits were hard to break. Moving to pull his hand away finally, he said, "And so are mine."

Homura listened, his smile unchanging when Okita gave his reply. He didn't try to hold on when the hand was withdrawn, instead relaxing his fingers to allow Okita to pull away with greater ease. There was a tense moment after that, Homura considering his reply, and giving Okita a chance to walk away if he wished.

"I used to wonder if she'd think that of me." Homura turned his hand over, looking at the palm. "If she had any idea of what I've done. How many people I've killed. How much blood I've caused to fall. And all so I could stay alive." He laughed softly. "No, that isn't quite all of it."

"I wondered if I could still deserve her somehow. It's a stronger question now, because it hasn't been five-hundred years since I was innocent; before I became the sole being in the Heavens condemned to take life."

"But then I realized what thinking that way truly meant." Homura leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "It was arrogant of me, and dishonorable to her. Her wish was for me to live, and I promised her I would. If it meant to kill more people than could be counted, then that was what I would do."

"Yet deciding I was unclean, and unworthy of love? That went against the principle I'd chosen to abide by. To allow others to choose what they truly wanted, and give them the freedom to persue those things." What makes me different from the other gods, Sanzo.. Homura closed his eyes for a moment, then chuckled.

"But listening to my opinion wasn't the point of this playdate, was it?" Homura held up his fist again, even though he half-expected Okita to leave. "If you'd like to continue."

With his hand back in his position, he unconsciously rubbed the back of it with his thumb. People hadn't been willing to come so close to him for a long time, now that he thought of it. Tetsu perhaps. Hijikata. The children around the neighborhood who didn't know who he really was. But not many beyond that, and nearly all of them were children.

As he did so, he listened to Homura talk. "She" could only mean Rinrei, the woman he'd done so much for in the past and the one he would continue to strive for in the future. He listened, but he couldn't agree. Blood on one's hands was one thing if it belonged to another. That was a terrible enough crime, but one that people in his era overcame easily. The blood on Okita's hands was his own though, coming from diseased lungs that could kill anyone he grew too close to. His hands were unclean because he coughed at night and his coughing wouldn't kill just him.

Besides, there wasn't anyone to love him and there wasn't anyone he would love in return. With his end so imminent, it seemed futile and he had more important things to focus on. Okita didn't know when talk of his aversion to touch became talk about his supposed aversion to love, but he didn't deny or affirm a thing.

When Homura held up his fist again, Okita merely smiled at him and did the same. If Homura was willing to play, so was Okita. "It wasn't, but it seems I learned quite a bit despite that. Ready?"

"Ready." His words didn't seem to have made any difference, despite what Okita had said. Homura didn't press the issue, however. It had been nothing more than a guess that made him say anything of that sort at all. And, as he already pointed out, the objective of the game wasn't for the demi-god to preach.

This time Homura recited the chant along with Okita, falling back into the easy confidence he typically portrayed. When 'go' came, he again threw rock. It worked well enough before, and tossing it a second time would let him learn a bit about Okita's strategy behind his throws.

...Provided there was one, the demi-god reminded himself. Okita said he wasn't playing strictly to win, and Homura somehow couldn't just doubt that with this man. Of course, he couldn't just believe it either. It was a truth too long held to heart, he supposed.

Even if Homura's words hadn't appeared to have an affect on Okita, there certainly had been one. In subtle ways, he was learning more about his leader and the more he knew, the more he could follow with confidence. Homura was strong-willed, but he wasn't without his doubts and his weak points. He was, however, able to overcome them and he was able to devote himself wholly to a person. In so many ways the demi-god resembled someone else Okita knew, meaning his opinion of the god grew considerably in a favorable direction.

And now he was even singing along with him. That certainly made things more fun and helped Okita take his mind off thoughts of why he couldn't allow himself to be touched. The blood, the smell of it, the taste that wasn't quite there, but almost... "--Scissors, go!"

Homura threw rock and Okita threw paper. The swordsman grinned and clapping his hands in childish delight. He loved this game, even without a reward at the end. It was simplistic and fun and it was a great way to decide who got the last dango on the stick. Or who would get stuck with cleaning duty at the dojo. "Ah! I won!" He laughed and then wagged a finger at Homura, teasingly. "You can't keep throwing rock like that. You have to vary your choices, you know."

But now for his 'reward,' which he could go any which way with. Did he ask for something serious or something fun? Or something dangerous? He could ask for why Homura liked to push him like this, but then the conversation would get so serious and that wasn't the point of a playdate. He could also ask for permission to kill Himura, but he doubted that would go over well. Sitting back, he tapped a finger to his lip and thought. He could ask for Guy's sword to be made next - that would be good. His roommate was still without a weapon and he'd been attacked by someone else here. He also didn't want him to think that Okita had forgotten. "I~ would like... Guy-san's sword to be made as soon as possible. I realize that Adel-san is busy, but my roommate has been patient and I don't like the idea of him moving about without a weapon."

Homura almost laughed at Okita's glee when he won. How long had it been since he'd seen something so utterly innocent? It was such a sharp contrast to the man he'd seen with a blade in his hands, slicing through his enemies with merciless determination. Perhaps that was part of why Homura liked Okita as much as he did. Though the man may not be able to see it in himself, Okita managed to preserve his purity in a way that Homura couldn't. That person who he'd been in the fields of flowers had been hidden beneath layers of arrogance and purpose, and also sorrow. Only in silent moments alone did Homura indulge his memories, and never for long.

He almost envied Okita in that way.

Yet the innocence only lasted so long, ending quickly when the swordsman made his request known. Homura let out a small sigh, though his grin didn't fade. Okita had to have known just how difficult weapons were to come by here, and how desperately there group needed them, especially now, when they could make progress.

Still, he had promised to have the sword made, and Homura wasn't one to go back on his word. "It can't be done immediately. Adelheid should be resting tonight." Though there had been a note left for the man on the bulletin that made Homura wonder, despite not having looked at the contents. "And it's important that the ones in our club that can lead groups be armed as quickly as possible. However, I'll see what I can do."

Zenon would say that Homura was getting soft, wouldn't he? Still, Homura couldn't quite help it. And not just because part of him didn't want Okita to be disappointed.

The purity that Homura saw was what he wanted to see. It was a lie that Okita had perfected over years of practice, years of trial and error and careful observation. There was nothing pure about him. From that time when he defeated the samurai with a practice sword and took his katana to the present, not a single thing about him was pure or innocent. He was simply very good at imitation, so good that even he sometimes forgot, or at least, pretended to forget.

Leaning back in his seat, he tipped his head back so he could look at the ceiling. Of course he knew it couldn't be immediate. He'd seen the note about Adel's health, but he'd also seen that little note left to him asking for a weapon. It seemed that their Weaver was branching out to make his own endeavors without bothering to tell the rest of them. All of the clubs were in a weak position at the moment. That Mello boy was working to undermine them. That "anonymous" on the bulletin as well, drumming up her pointless aggravations. Roy Mustang and Hitsugaya Toshirou were dead or missing. Club members were disappearing left and right, people were separating and moving further and further apart.

It made Okita long for the familiarity and the solidarity of Mibu again. He wanted people at his back that he had trained and people at his side that he had grown up with. He wanted to walk in the shadow of the ones who had raised him and feel the power in their words again. But he didn't have the Shinsengumi here, even if Ayumu was at his side. He had the History Club and he had to ensure that they would stay together no matter what. For his sake and for Homura's sake.

Smiling when Homura agreed in his own way Okita's request, he dropped his head back down and clapped his hands together. Making sure to reward the war god with a big grin, he nodded his head once in childlike glee. "Thank you, Homura-san~! Guy-san will be so pleased to hear this!" Of course, it wasn't just Guy, but also Okita. He hadn't expected Homura to agree so easily, but he couldn't deny the happiness he felt. It was like getting candy from Hijikata, in a way.

The intercom jingled and Okita looked up at the speaker as the Doctor started his usual speech. Pouting as the nurses started to move in, he looked to Homura and wagged a finger at him. "Now don't you forget, hm? And...I'm bringing someone to meet you later, but it has to be just the three of us. I'm sure you know who and why, so let's just leave it at that, hm? It's important to me."

Getting up as his nurse came over to collect him, he waved to the demi-god and gave him another smile. "I'll see you tonight, Homura-san."

Day 38: Game Room

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