damned_institute | Dayshift 42: Morning

Senna stepped off the bus to wind blowing through the clothes she was given. A sad face at one of the nurses allowed her a long red scarf as well, and once she had draped it around her neck and let it hang down her back, she had trotted off.

The park she had saw last time seemed a good place to be on the look-out for the chicks from last night. It was close to the buses, and a big enough place that if they remembered that they had a race date, it would suit its purpose. The girl ran to a place in the middle of the field and waited there, shifting her weight from side to side. After a while, this wasn't enough, and Senna traded back and forth between jogging in place and acrobatics--the easy flips and cartwheels keeping her warm.

Her mind had changed in the night before. She had gotten a taste of what leadership entailed, and she wasn't sure she had rose to the occasion or not. She knew she had tried her best, and had been willing to give as much as she had, but it hadn't been enough. She knew this. Hokuto, at least, had gotten hurt, and in the end, they still hadn't explored more than the schoolhouse. They really needed a different approach with that place.

She went back and forth internally, body going through the motions and reflexes of her movements.

[for... Falis, Hokuto, Meche, and Soma?--and down to here]

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"I'm not certain Kenren will appreciate that sentiment." Though his years certainly hadn't done any harm to his vigor, a fact which Homura elected to keep quiet about. Nataku was still a child, and though there had again been rumors that persisted about his father, particularly after the most famous rebellions the Heavens had ever known, they were rumors that Homura could hope held no truth. While he was fairly open about sex with adults, Homura had little desire to become the educator of the boy beside him. Or to make him curious enough to go to Kenren.

He could see neither of those things ending well.

Another grin, and his sense of pity for Hanatarou instantly renewed itself. The poor healer had no idea what was in store for him. But then again, neither did Nataku's potential victims, a group which Homura himself could belong to without knowing it. He'd likely earned himself a spot with the comments about Nataku's sweater, at the very least. But taking another look at the boy in it, he decided that it was worth it.

His hold on Nataku's hand loosened once the words were out, though it was tempting to renew it as he waited in silence. He would give Nataku as much time as he wished to consider this revelation, and he would also respect whatever the boy chose to do. This held true for Kenren and Okita as well, of course, but it was even more important to give Nataku the freedom. The younger taishi already knew the pain of not being able to decide for himself, and Homura wouldn't subject him to that again, no matter what his own desires were.

Thankfully, Nataku seemed to understand his reasoning perfectly. Perhaps it was because of the position they had both filled. Regardless of the reason, Homura was glad to hear what Nataku said, even if he did laugh a bit when it was done.

"You're right. Though it's hard to break the habit of fighting alone, isn't it?" Once again Homura grinned down at Nataku, just before pulling his hood further down over his face, now speaking in jest. "Although, don't you think you're a bit too young and too cute to be giving an old man like me a lecture?"

"Maybe not yet." Nataku replied cheerfully. It was better for Homura if he just assumed nobody was safe. He might put up a decent fight before Nataku got to him... But of course, everyone had to sleep sometime.

He couldn't help but think, from that grin, that Homura was pitying his fellow conspirators. He needn't have worried. Nataku planned to make sure they had a lot of fun, even if it was at the expense of a few of his favourite adults and each other. He didn't mean any harm by it anyway. No more than Homura did when he teased him about his sweater.

Even when Homura's grip slackened, he didn't let go. It was important for Homura to know he didn't plan to leave his side. Even if they came to disagree in the end or follow separate paths his fellow taishi wouldn't truly be alone. He had made his choice the moment he decided he was going to join the History Club. He grimaced slightly and nodded at the comment about fighting alone. He'd very nearly killed Kenren the night they all fought together, so it wasn't as if he was an expert in any sense. Still, he was perhaps more forgiving and understanding of Homura than he should be, but he didn't think to deeply about that. Many of the other club members wouldn't be so pleased. And besides, he liked Homura.

...Usually.

"Old men are notorious for their lack of sense. I think it has something to do with their brains rotting." He lifted the corner of his hood to glare at Homura... and so that he wouldn't walk into a tree or something. If it wasn't blocking his peripheral vision he might be able to dodge now and again. Or better yet... Nataku felt a slow grin spreading and started to loosen his grip on Homura's hand. "I heard they're slow and infirm too. Isn't that true, Homura?"

With the heavier topic dropped, it took little effort to fall into a lighter mood. Nataku's cheerfulness was contagious in that way, and seeing the boy smile despite everything he'd been put through both by the gods and in the Institute, Homura couldn't help but reflect it. Even if he had a sense of foreboding concerning just what drawings might end up on his own face, should he drop his guard.

Nataku's glare was met with a confident grin, the demi-god unfazed by the notion that his mind might have been falling apart with age. "And young boys haven't developed enough brain to even match the sense old men do have." Then Nataku suddenly began to let go of Homura's hand, an impish look crossing his face that reminded Homura of a certain other playful sort. The impression wasn't far from the mark, and Homura laughed when he recognized the bait that was being put out before him.

"You might want to be careful. It's not wise to believe everything you hear." Coming to a stop, Homura crossed his arms over his chest, smirking down at the boy who wanted a bit more fun than just a walk. "We are generous though. So I'll give you a head start. You're going to need it against me."

Though truthfully, it was a bluff. Homura remained well aware of the fact that Nataku might just have been stronger than even him. But there wasn't any point in not being confident, now was there?

Nataku snorted in obvious disbelief. "Maybe we're just smarter because we use what we've got."

Of course, he couldn't say it was entirely a joke. Certain old men were exactly like that; senile, stupid and arrogant to a fault. It was just that Homura and Kenren weren't even remotely close to that particular group. He'd left them behind in the heavens. He might never have to go back. He might never have to kill for them again.

He could play right out in the open with his friends.

He moved backwards a few steps, grinning widely at Homura. It wasn't as if his pride would let him move much further than just out of arms' reach, but he would bolt the moment Homura started moving. "Are you sure you don't want to grab a walking stick?"

Dayshift 42: Morning - Magus Park

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