damned_institute | Day 40: Lunch

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Day 40: Lunch

*hobble wobble*

"Damn that SCOURGE!" Starscream cried out, the slowly-filling cafeteria producing a jarring echo of his raspy voice. His limping, already bad enough from not knowing how to properly use his crutches, was now exacerbated from the injuries he'd received the shift prior. Despite the gauges in his non-casted leg so lovingly provided by the aforementioned 'patient', Starscream could still put some weight on it, but not so much that he could really stop and rest; relieving the soreness under his arms was out of the question. The nurse that walked behind him with his tray, already upset at having to deal with yet another troublesome inmate, was growing rather impatient as his charge slowly made his way down the food line.

"Just...give me a standard serving of the aquatic creature's flesh, some of those fried potato slices, two bananas, and three bottles of juice," Starscream sighed, his anger from just a moment ago assuaged by the physical exertion needed to move the way he did. "I'm going to sit down here...bring it to me when you're done."

He was hardly surprised to find that one of the bananas was completely bruised along its inner curve, or that the handful of 'chips' on his plate were all on the small side. Tired and frustrated as he was, however, he could barely muster a 'damned flesh-creature' before moving his fingers to the plate, picking one of the longer 'chips' and shoving it into his mouth listlessly.

There was an unusually high concentration of sodium chloride crystals on it. Of COURSE.

[For Tony Stark]

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It was too bad Peter hadn't learned to lighten up just yet. Maybe Okita would have to play a prank or two on him first. Being too serious all the time was just boring and it would frankly put everyone in a bad mood. Smiling at Homura, Okita twirled his fork in his hand again before he speared another piece of fish and brought it to his mouth. "Thank you, Peter-san. But you should be wishing him that. Who knows what'll happen by the time I'm done."

Peter seemed more taken with the door now, however, so Okita went back to eating and watching Yuffie take on the nurses with her heroic speech. He had to admit - the girl had style. It was smart, in a silly way, to be so visible. Now she'd most definitely be known throughout the patient body; for better or for worse. Of course, with the conversation going this way, he figured it was best to report on her here and now. "Yes, that is Yuffie Kisaragi, a ninja and someone whom I've taken a distinct interest in. She was there the night Himura-san and Sanosuke-san were injured in the hall. She managed to heal Sanosuke-san enough that he didn't die; although it took a lot out of her."

Tilting his head to the side, the swordsman tapped his fork against the next piece of fish thoughtfully. "She won't join any clubs, but she's a mercenary for hire with a great amount of skill. I've spoken to her about the History Club for you."

The rest he could reserve for later, when Peter wasn't around and Soujirou's image couldn't be damaged any further. At the moment, the more pressing thing was to make sure Homura didn't push Peter too far. The young man was already pushing back against the demi-god's provocation. Pushing his fork into the fish, Okita gave Homura a look that said not to press the guy too far and then said, "What I think he was saying is: it might be wiser for you to join up with someone, don't you think? Regardless of whether or not you can or can't do anything against Sylar, there is safety to be had in numbers. And with the pointy swords those numbers hold. We could both benefit from having you around, Peter-san."

Peter's discomfort was evident, and the man only had the serious nature of the conversation to thank for things not getting much worse for him when Homura made that observation. As a man who enjoyed pushing others to their limit (and often beyond), Homura had found a potential target in Peter. However, Okita's challenge and the other topic took presedence, so the man was safe for now. "Don't take me so lightly. You might find the tables turned before I decide it's done."

The information on Yuffie was welcome, particularly when Okita made note of her ability to heal. Yet at the same time, the fact she wouldn't join a club made it difficult to put such abilities to work. Okita had taken an interest in the woman, but Homura didn't yet know her, much less trust her to keep secret certain discoveries the History Club had made. And her little demonstration made it especially evident that she had a very big mouth, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

He nodded his thanks, then chuckled quietly when Okita gave him a look of warning. The timing was rather excellent, and Homura wondered if he wasn't growing too predictable. A remark that Peter's presence hadn't stopped the murder had been on the tip of his tongue, but the demi-god held back. He enjoyed followers who didn't mind asserting their wills most of all, and he respected Okita's judgment no the matter.

"We could indeed. And we could keep your involvement in the group relatively quiet. It's a simple enough matter to adopt a false name for the common board, and to keep your description off of it." Lacing his fingers together, Homura smiled at Peter's bold words. Perhaps his physical shape wasn't the greatest, but the man had determination, and that was an excellent quality. "We also have means of training you, along with procuring weapons. Even if you only wish to stay with us temporarily--long enough to earn my trust in regards to that other matter we spoke of, for example."

While Peter had been perplexed by the teasing earlier, it was actually helping to lighten the mood now, which he was thankful for. It wasn't that he couldn't handle serious topics, but this was some pretty heavy stuff that they were dealing with. When Homura responded to Soujirou, Peter nodded. "I'm pretty sure he can handle it," he added in.

It was still odd to hear someone refer to someone else as a ninja as if there was nothing wrong with that, but Peter refrained from gaping or anything like that as he listened to Soujirou's explanation. Having the power to heal was definitely helpful, though it was interesting that the girl wasn't willing to give her allegiance to any one club. Peter wondered if he should follow in her footsteps, but he doubted he'd make a very good mercenary. As he was now, his experience as a nurse was probably his most useful quality.

Peter didn't miss the look that was exchanged between the two, and while he didn't know what it meant, it did become obvious that they were actively trying to recruit him. He was honestly surprised, since he had already proved that he was pretty useless at the moment. On top of that, if Sylar wasn't already watching the club, he definitely would be after Peter joined. Why would they want to invite that onto their doorstep?

It was true that he would have a better chance against Sylar if he had help, and it was also true that they might be able to keep his membership a secret, but Peter still wasn't sure. If Sylar did somehow get to one of the club members, it would be his fault -- and Peter wasn't sure he could handle another burden like that.

On the other hand, hearing that he might be able to get more information about how to save Nathan made the offer more tempting. Peter frowned down at the table, but he knew the answer wasn't going to come to him very easily.

"I'm not sure," he said with a sigh, glancing up again as he brushed his hair out of his face. "Why would you want me, anyway?" It couldn't all be benevolence, after all.

Oh, so now Peter wanted to play along? That was probably for the best because the rest of the conversation had hit a point that Okita felt much less at ease with when it came to maintaining his 'Soujirou' image. He'd take the levity in any form he could get it and laughed a little. "Don't I get any votes of confidence in my corner?"

The matter of Yuffie could be brought up at another time. Right now, the conversation was focusing in on Peter and on his need for information. The other matter had to be about visitors - something Okita himself had spoken to Yuffie about. No concrete information could be given beyond the general idea that they were going after the missing, but that was enough for some people. It would be enough to draw people into the club, at least.

Watching as Peter wavered on his decision, Okita leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand. He didn't know Peter well enough to really read him, but he did make for an interesting study. He couldn't answer as to why Homura wanted him, but Okita had his own ideas. "Are you worried we'll become another burden of responsibility to bear should Sylar find us, Peter-san? I wouldn't worry too much about that. There are those among us with powers that are already within his sights, no doubt. Your addition to the group would give us an edge in fighting him, you realize? If you're with us, we know what to expect, and can be better prepared for the fight that will inevitably find us, regardless of whether you join or not."

"Oh, you do. I'm quite confident in what you can do." Homura teased Okita a bit as he looked to the man, more than just a little happy at where Peter had decided to throw his lot. "But I'm quite confident in what I can do as well. Besides, I doubt you mind playing the role of the underdog in this little game. Am I right?"

Okita didn't press on the topic of Yuffie, and that suited Homura well enough. Peter's hesitation showed that he had indeed picked up on what Homura was referring to, and he knew the other swordsman would as well. Okita's perceptiveness had been one of the first things that made him stand out to Homura, after all.

He nodded in agreement when Okita offered the explanation to Peter; that was the tactical reason. But there was more to it than merely that, something that called out to Homura's personal interest. Now he chose to push the button Okita had silently warned him to avoid before. "And you have something else that I look for. You've made it clear that physically, you're weak. And past experience here shows that you can't stop Sylar on your own as you are, doesn't it? Yet you're still determined to fight him, refusing to simply wait for that man to do as he pleases. Even if you know that it might be impossible, and it might cost you your own life."

To live, and to struggle for one's purpose. Even if the philosophies diverged, that single point was enough for Homura. That was the sort of unbending will that appealed to him most, be it in ally or in enemy. "That is the sort of strength that no one can give to you, my friend. So whether it's with us or through other means, I hope you'll grow stronger. I'd hate to see you fall too early on."

They had given their reasons, and for Homura, that signaled the end of the conversation at hand. Peter had given no indication that Sylar had entered the room, and time was growing short in the shift. "I think you have what you need to make your decision. But please, feel free to take your time. Now, Peter, if you'll excuse us, there are other matters than need to be discussed privately. I'm sure you'll find a way to get in touch with one of us when you make your choice."

As Soujirou and Homura continued to banter, Peter actually managed a small laugh. "You'll have to let me know how it all turns out," he chimed in. It was hard to know how serious Soujirou was about his possible prank, but Peter would either find out or remain in the dark, and he wasn't invested enough to care which it was.

The two men had their separate explanations for why they were hoping to recruit him, and Peter listened to both of them carefully. He had to fight the urge to protest when Homura called him weak, but he knew that it was - for the most part - true. He could swing a shovel around and do some damage that way, but it wasn't like he had been trained to use a weapon like some other patients. His potential had been in his powers, but those were also what had made him unbelievably dangerous.

Besides, Homura was saying that he was strong in a different way, and Peter was surprised by how nice it was to have that acknowledged by someone else. It wasn't that Peter was searching for praise, but he wasn't about to refuse it either. He had been beating himself up about a lot of things lately, so it was a welcome cahnge. Plus, he got the feeling that Homura was being sincere rather than trying to butter him up.

Peter did want to grow stronger even without his powers - no, he had to. These people might be able to help him both do that and take down Sylar (and maybe even help him save Nathan), which meant he was going to have to really think it over now.

Before he could give any sort of response, Homura assured him to take his time and made it pretty obvious that it was about time for him to leave. Peter quickly nodded and stood from his seat. "Yeah, definitely. Thanks for your time, and I'll get a hold of you as soon as I know." With that, Peter lifted his hand in a half-wave and then moved away to another part of the cafeteria to leave the two to their own devices.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll hear about it, Peter-san. Some way or another." Perhaps he'd have to do something a little more public, or else plan it like he had done with Hijikata's poetry - Institute-wide. How far could he go before Homura retaliated? Now that could be fun to test. Smiling slyly at Homura, Okita shrugged nonchalantly and went back to his meal. "Being the underdog is exactly what I like best."

Use his opponent's strengths against him - it was a classic tactic and one he intended to use fully against Homura. The war god was busy most of the time, so when he wasn't watching, Okita could prepare. And now that he and Peter were talking, it was the perfect time to do so. Homura had found the sort of spark that he liked to see in his members in Peter and the war god's explanation seemed to sit well with the young man, too. Okita's smile softened as he watched the two of them, glad to see that things were going well. Then the conversation was over and Peter stood, leaving them alone.

Picking up a french fry from his plate, Okita snuck it onto Homura's as he spoke up. "Well, you certainly do find the most intereting people, Homura-san. You're busy as always, I see." Spearing a piece of fish on the end of his fork, the swordsman smiled and dabbed it into the tartar sauce. "And with one rival down, but another appearing, I wonder what other machinations you have going on in that head of yours."

Homura could practically hear the wheels starting to turn in Okita's mind, and even he had to wonder just what the man was planning. Homura had experience enough on the battlefield; that went without question. Yet in the field of practical jokes, Homura was a complete and utter novice, while Okita might very well be considered a master. Well, whatever the results, it certainly wouldn't be boring. And Homura didn't have too many worries about what people might think of him should he end up with ink on his face, or animals braided in his hair.

Peter's departure was acknowledged with a nod, then Homura turned his full attention to the man across from him. Had he noticed that the demi-god had yet to begin his own meal? Chuckling as suddenly the number of fried potatoes grew, he picked up the one Okita had offered and ate it before he replied.

"I certainly won't complain about that part of my position here." Boredom could be just as deadly as any sword, if in a different way. The kind of people Landel gathered seemed to at the very least circumvent that, even if only through the frustrations each of them brought to this prison. And speaking of, Homura chuckled as Okita brought up Mello's reported disappearance, along with Lelouch's movement into the forefront. He'd publicly told the newcomer that he didn't trust him, and Homura meant his words. So just how would we find out what Lelouch might really be planning?

"There's a bird in our midst that's been left without a master, isn't there?" Homura knew that Okita would figure out who he was referring to easily enough; there was no way to tell just who might have been listening to them now. "I was thinking of setting that bird to work for me. He could be convinced without exposing too much, though one of your pups would have to be willing to take credit for something he didn't do, if pressed." Homura didn't want to expose Ayumu carelessly, and despite what had happened at breakfast, there was a chance that she hadn't been completely found out. Having the pair working together, especially without one of them realizing it, would give them an invaluable opportunity to learn much more both about Lelouch, and the spy himself.

"If your bird might be willing to play her role a bit longer, of course. The two of them might be able to accomplish more if set on the same track." And if Okita could tell Ayumu what her new target was. Homura already planned to call the other to his room tonight; he wouldn't risk summoning them both and having them meet. That would be far too careless.

Homura ate one of the fried potato stick things he'd put on his plate and Okita smiled, slipping another on there. Maybe he could build a tower out of them. They were greasy enough that they'd probably stick together, come to think of it. Which was kind of gross. Okay, no, it was really gross considering that they were putting that in their mouths as some sad substitute for nutrition. Eating the bit of fish he had on his fork, Okita sat back and rubbed his fingers on a paper napkin, making a face at the grease mark they left behind.

"And I believe you're right. The poor thing has lost its gilded cage and now he's left to wander where the wolves can get him." Cue Okita stabbing another bit of fish on the end of his fork. The swordsman smiled pleasantly as if nothing were wrong and tilted his head to the side, thinking about Homura's proposal. Get Robin to work for them? And with Ayumu? He was certain he could convince one of the detectives to take the fall, but how easy that was depended upon the nature of the crime. Okita had a clear idea, however, of exactly who Robin would be spying on. As long as that pesky truth thing didn't get in the way, he could be a valuable element against Lelouch - so long as he didn't turn on them.

"The lovebirds had a bit of a rough spot, I'm afraid, but I'm sure the two of them can work things out. They're of the same flock, after all." All that remained was to hear the plan and to tell Ayumu of it. It was easy enough to do via poetry or the Shinsengumi code, though. No one here had ever seen it, and he doubted that people far in the future would have taken the time to decipher it in order to put in their textbooks. "Perhaps you'd like to give a little detail so we can bring them both back to their perches, hm?"

"You know, someone might scold you if they catch you doing that." Homura took the second potato, grinning as he held it up. "If they think you're not eating like you should." And Homura too wouldn't be pleased; though he was careful not to let it show, he was one of the few who knew of the disease Okita now carried. Starving himself would only contribute to the man's suffering, and that wasn't something Homura would so easily allow.

So far Okita seemed to be in agreement with him, and Homura continued when the man prompted for more. "But things could still be reconciled easily enough. I'll trust that your bird was able to sing a sweet enough tune. In fact, I'm counting on it." Leaning his head on a hand, Homura casually looked off to the side. "I'm not inclined to trust the new bird with every bit of the truth. Including what might make him more eager to turn on us." Such as discovering he truly had been betrayed by Sen. "Or that he wouldn't actually be working alone. Chance meetings aren't such rare things here, after all."

"I'm eating just fine," Okita protested as he held up his bit of fish. As if to illustrate the point, he bit it off the end of the fork emphatically and winked at Homura. "See? Just fine. It's not my fault if they can't cook potatoes like they should be cooked."

And another one went onto Homura's plate. Along with a second and a third that made a little pyramid rising golden above the rest of the fries. He wondered if there would be little fry people who lived in the pyramid, or if it was more like a monument to all the potatoes who sacrificed their lives so Okita could make a little house on a war prince's plate. Smirking to himself, he started building the pyramid up with other fries.

"Oh, I have no doubt. She does have a lovely voice, you know, and they're such a cute pair together." Okita took another bite of his fish and pushed one of Homura's fries into position against the base of the pyramid. Ayumu was going to continue to be Sen and Sen was going to follow Robin as Robin was ever so lucky to go and spy on their mutual enemy, Lelouch. Okita didn't like the fact that the boy had all but admitted to having the power to force people to tell the truth. Something about the confession didn't sit well. Nor did Lelouch's connection to that Suzaku person, who had jumped on Okita's messages to throw him off the trail. Something was up, but Okita couldn't figure out what. If Homura wanted Ayumu on Lelouch's trail now that Mello was gone, so be it. He just needed to contact Ayumu and tell her now. "I'm sure they'll both sing a most beautiful harmony for us to hear."

Okita was almost finished with his fish and he looked ruefully at the remaining fries on his plate. To distract himself, he pushed on to a new topic. "Oh, and haven't you been meeting with lots of new people lately? I'm so behind now, Homura-san, you'll have to catch me up." Hopefully about Hijikata. Well, mainly about Hijikata, but Okita wasn't going to ask just yet.

Homura laughed lightly; so long as Okita was eating a significant enough portion of his meal, he supposed he could let it pass. That, and so long as he left Homura enough of his own to consume. He raised an eyebrow as the man across from him began actively concentrating on building what by all appearances was a little tower. "Do you intend to pierce the sky with your efforts?"

Okita seemed to have gotten Homura's message, which now left it to him to contact Ayumu. Homura didn't doubt that Okita would find some method; it was convenient, in this instance, that the two would likely have a code even he was unaware of. Though Lelouch's ability could prove particularly troublesome should he decide to use it--and if it went beyond what he had confessed to. Homura didn't consider it beyond the realm of possibility, and he knew they could very easily be found out. Yet at the same time, if they were discovered by that method--well, Homura had warned Lelouch. He didn't consider his lack of knowledge as to who Homura's people were an excuse for infringing on their wills in such a manner.

Then came a topic Homura had known was coming, particularly since he hadn't yet had the opportunity to speak with Okita about the new Hijikata. Though he had known the man was listening, obviously Okita wanted more than just eavesdropping could provide. "There are two of particular note. I'm sure you'll want to ask me about Hijikata, and I'll answer anything you do ask. But he didn't seem to care for me much, and as of yet, he won't join us." Homura did still have his hopes, however. Even a such a stubborn man would eventually need a sword.

"The other is a boy name Nataku, and he is from my world." Another face that seemed to be missing from the room, but his absence mattered little for the moment. "He's the one I'm talking to next shift. He is also a heretical being, and five-hundred years ago, he was the one who the Heavens used as the Toushin Taishi. My predecessor in the position."

"Only if you have enough of these fried potatoes to make it there," he confessed, pulling more of his own from his plate and carefully arranging them so the pyramid grew taller. He pondered his handwork for awhile and picked up another of his french fries and set to work with his fork. Carefully dividing one end of the fry into three parts, the swordsman made a little person with his arms reaching to the sky. Crude, but it worked. Then he scooped up some of his unused tartar sauce into his spoon and placed it on Homura's tray. Using the tartar sauce as a base, he stuck the little fry person into the spoon and sat back, grinning wide. "He's so excited to have a new home~"

And with that, Okita thought he was finished with his little building. He'd listened carefully to what Homura had said while he was working, but he still didn't know exactly what to say - which was why he'd made a potato person instead. Hijikata didn't seem to want to join, which meant it would be difficult to approach him. Perhaps he should just be straightforward and ask to meet with the man, but after the bulletin mishap, he wasn't so sure that would go over well. And so, he'd have to leave that topic untouched for now. Broaching it when he wasn't ready would just tear open wounds that had so recently healed anyway. Seeing Hijikata bite on his pen had been hard enough, but talking about him now when the prospects of him joining were slim was worse.

"Your predecessor?" Okita would have assumed that such a person would have been dead before a new war prince was named. Then again, death had never seemed to stop this place before. If Homura was mentioning him, it was because this boy was someone Okita would need to take note of later. Although, since Homura didn't point him out, that meant he wasn't yet available to be seen. Another heretical being from Homura's world - hopefully someone they could work with. No, someone they would need to work with. Two war princes on one team would be formidable. "Will he be joining us then?"

"Somehow, I doubt it." Especially not when Okita began cutting up one of the french fries that remained. Homura didn't understand what the purpose was at first, not even realizing that it was supposed to be a person until Okita gave it an emotion. Then all the demi-god could do at first was stare at the tiny figure in silence. Those were arms then? And the center was a head, he supposed. Oh, and one of the men Homura trusted as a second in command could very well be considered insane. If he didn't know better, he might have asked Okita if he'd managed to find some alcohol. Kenren would certainly be pleased.

Yet even Homura couldn't resist the childish joy on Okita's face when he leaned back, and the man laughed quietly. "And to be spared from being eaten, I'd imagine."

The silence when it came to Hijikata was telling, but Homura wasn't going to fill the gap for Okita. Part of it was a selfish desire not to have the man go running off towards an alternate version of the commander he'd devoted himself to in place of Homura. But Homura also hoped Okita would be upfront with his desires; he wouldn't refuse Okita that opportunity, if he asked for it.

"Yes. He died before they assigned the title to me--by his own hand." Nataku's suicide had been something Homura was able to learn in detail from Shien, and the demi-god knew well how it had effected the other man. "He hasn't decided what he'll do just yet. Obviously I hope that he'll choose to go with us, but I won't force him to." Something that Homura never did, but it held especially true in Nataku's case. He wouldn't even make the boy do it in exchange for the weapon he'd requested from Adelheid, an allowance he'd never even consider making for another person.

"He's very different from me. Nataku wasn't the Toushin Taishi for long before he chose to end his life. And he hasn't yet had the opportunity to truly choose his own path. Kenren and I both feel rather protective towards him, because of that." Homura looked at the little fry man again, then chuckled as he reached out to touch its head...carefully though. He had a feeling Okita would pout if he knocked it over. "I think he'll enjoy meeting you, should the chance arise."

"Oh, yeah, and that. But he wasn't in any danger of that, unless you were going to eat him. Then he'd be very sad." Even though Homura was letting the topic of Hijikata drop for now, Okita needed the continued levity. Hijikata Toshirou was going to be a problem for him. He wasn't the same person Okita had sworn to follow along with Kondou, but he was still the Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi and that warranted attention. What kind of attention was the issue, however. Did he casually keep an eye on him while sticking to his duties under Homura's command? Or did he follow Hijikata's word as if he were the real Vice Commander? Or...?

Without realizing it, Okita had fallen behind in the conversation. Nataku - the former Toushin Taishi - had chosen death rather than to complete his mission. To die in battle or at one's own hands were the only honorable ways to go, and it fit a man of war well. Or a boy of war. Kenren and Homura would be watching over this boy-prince apparently - something which caught Okita's interest. The gods were particularly protective of their own. He'd seen it when Kenren hovered over Homura following his torture and he was likely going to see it twofold now that this Nataku had appeared. It was a chance to see a different side of his commander - a gentler side, perhaps. Rather than push Nataku's buttons as Homura did with most people, he was going to try a different tactic.

"Do you wish for me to speak to him about the club then? Or merely meet with him and get my opinion?" Okita tilted his head as he watched Homura tap the little fry man. Then he set about making friends out of the remainder of his food. The fish was all but gone now and he didn't feel like eating anything else. Talk of Hijikata had robbed him of his appetite. "Or just play with him? I like the last option best - just letting you know."

And he'd perhaps cry little potato tears in his sorrow. Homura didn't say the thought aloud, but he did grin a bit wider in response to the words left unsaid. Yet at the same time he looked over the man he considered a friend carefully, wondering just what was going on in his mind. It was difficult to read through Okita's cheerful mask sometimes, as it was one that came naturally, and concealed thoroughly.

But even that being the case, Okita's continued silence on the matter of Hijikata was telling enough. It was possible that the man hadn't made of his mind yet, about what do to with this strange new version. Homura closed his eyes, and let out a quiet sigh. He remembered those days when Shien was like this as well--questioning the purpose of his life under an almost unbreakable mask.

"Whatever choice you make, Okita, I will respect it." Homura reached into his pocket then, and took out the key he'd had Adel make specifically for the swordsman. He set it down on the table next to Okita's tray, leaving no question as to who it now belonged to. "But you are the only one who can make that choice." And it would hardly be the first time that Homura couldn't be a person's sun.

Right, Son Goku?

Okita laid out the various options for his conversation with Nataku, but Homura shook his head to all but the last. "He has to decide for himself what he's going to do with his life, now that the gods who ruled over him are gone. I lived long enough to find my purpose. Nataku has yet to discover his." It was as sobering a thought as it was a hopeful one. If only this opportunity had been afforded to the boy in some place beside this prison. Yet that hadn't been the case, and there was no point in regretting it. "He'd likely be more receptive to your games than even I've been. But if it's possible, I'd like for you to not hide who you are from him either. Toushin Taishi isn't a title that can be completely erased once it's bestowed."

It took a little bit of work, but finally a second potato man joined the first. The shapeless arms still reached for the sky and Okita tapped him and his friend gently on the heads. If only all of life could be as easy as making friends out of vegetables. It wasn't though, and when Homura sighed and laid the key down next to Okita's tray, he knew his silence had not been the right choice. Quietly, he slipped the key off the table and hid it in his pocket. The key was a sign of trust, but it was also an insurance policy. Should anything ever happen to Homura, their efforts would not be in vain.

Okita rubbed the grease off his fingers on the napkin again and smiled at the demi-god. He had made his choice when he had been dragged away from Michael Sugiyama with a needle stuck in his neck. Even if he wavered on it, he would never go back on his word as a samurai. Homura was his leader and even if he had to divide his attention between him and Hijikata Toshirou, he would inevitably follow Homura. Or so he hoped. There seemed to be little welcome for Okita at Hijikata's doorstep so far, making the choice easy for now. He'd deal with the consequences later. "You act as if I hadn't already made it. And you should eat something, or it won't just be me who gets a scolding over their appetite."

Picking up a french fry, Okita tried it and decided yet again that today was not the day for greasy potatoes. Finishing what he had in his mouth, the swordsman sat back and pushed his tray back a bit, indicating he was finished.

"I don't hide my identity because I like to, Homura-san. As long as Nataku-san isn't adverse to playing with something like me, then I'd be more than happy to be honest with him." Which he could never do at home. Children fled from him if they learned he was the demon killer of the Shinsengumi. The reputation he'd gained when Serizawa was still alive, along with the continued infamy of the Mibu corps had done little to assuage that fear either. He was lucky enough to be able to take care of a friend's children, but he had to be quiet about who he was to the neighborhood. They liked to play war games and if they knew that he was one of the wolves they'd been cutting down... "Point me out to him when you meet, hm? I'd be more than happy to play games with him if he'd like - titles mean little to me when it comes to games."

"Because I don't know if you have." Homura watched as Okita took the key from the table, glad he didn't try to refuse it at the very least. Even if he decided to abandon Homura and the History Club, Okita's Hijikata had been part of the original group that had earned that key. That alone gave Okita a right to it, though that wasn't Homura's reason. He simply trusted the man enough to give him something so valuable. "You haven't spoken to him since his introduction on the bulletin." An observation that didn't need to be said, but one Homura vocalize anyway. There was only so long they could dance around the truth in silence, with little fry-men to serve as distractions.

He chuckled at the chiding, despite the somber mood that had taken over their discussion. To appease Okita, who was the most likely to do the lecturing, Homura began to eat his own portion of fish. He wasn't so cruel as to deprive the swordsman's new clan of their home, after all.

"Nataku knows what it means to be someone who kills." That was the single purpose of the Toushin Taishi in the eyes of Heaven: to prove their loyalty by slaying those who would defy the will of the gods. Homura could remember the realizations that slowly settled into his mind after his own first kill. One by one, emotions and thoughts fell into place, each as capable of crushing him as they were of becoming his foundation. Nataku hadn't been the Toushin Taishi for long, but he had been one for long enough to build the shelter that would keep him safe from the burden he had been forced to endure. Or so Homura believed, and hoped. "That is why I want you to tell him. I want him to see that there is more available to him now, even if he must continue to fight and to kill."

He nodded at the man's request to be singled out, but the boy's arrival in the room also gave Homura a chance to let Okita see Nataku first, even from a distance. "That's him." Homura motioned to the child, speaking to a very tall man Homura hadn't previously met. "With a pair of golden eyes."

"I wouldn't be here talking to you if I hadn't," Okita pointed out, folding his paper napkin into a square. He'd run out of food he wanted to eat and the things he had eaten were sitting heavily in his stomach. He wondered briefly if he'd eaten too much and then shrugged to himself, starting to make the napkin into a little paper iris. It would be nowhere near as colorful as the ones Homura liked, but maybe it would help solidify his loyalty to the war prince. "And no, I haven't. He hasn't tried to speak with me, either. I wanted to hear from you first before I tried to speak with him."

Which was a lie, but it was a good lie. Okita didn't know if he wanted to talk to a man who had so publicly told him to die. Even if the message hadn't been directed at him exactly, he had no guarantee about the sort of relationship his counterpart had with Hijikata Toshirou. Okita Souji didn't go walking into what could be his death just because a familiar name called him there. Homura was eating now, at least, and Okita had finished his flower. Reaching out, he laid it on Homura's tray and then looked to where the man was pointing.

Such a small boy... To think that he was a killer, too, was a sad thing indeed. Okita remembered taking his first life. The smell of that night and the feel of the blood on his hands still haunted him in his dreams. As did the man's face - that twisted, horrid vision of himself. Okita wasn't sure if he was the best example to show Nataku that there was more to life than death and killing, but he'd do as told. He'd play with the boy and make him smile and listen to him when he needed it - and then watch for his decision. Giving Nataku a friend within the History Club was coercion enough to bring him over to their side, perhaps, but as Homura wished, Okita would never actively try to recruit him.

"So you're sending me to show him there is more to life than death?" Okita laughed, the sound surprisingly light despite his words. "You certainly have a strange sense of humor, Homura-san. But I'll do as you ask. I'll show him how to play hide and seek. Maybe you'll join us?"

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Day 40: Lunch

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