damned_institute | Dayshift 42: Tasty Burger

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Dayshift 42: Tasty Burger - Afternoon

After lunch, Kanji had just decided to stay sitting at the table and slowly finish off his soda while he tried to think of something productive he could do while he had the chance here in town. ...Ah, who was he fooling? He had no clue what the hell to do. His senpai probably had a list of things they could all be doing while in town. Investigating stuff or mapping the landscape or gathering information from the townspeople or... something like that. But Kanji had no clue how to go about any of those things. He had the observational skills of a rock and him walking around trying to talk to everyone wouldn't end well.

But even he knew he couldn't just sit here, slurping on his soda all day. He just needed to think of something. Yeah. Something.

....

He drank some more.

[unknowingly for Zex]

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His meal with Okita had been pleasant, if short, and Homura had parted ways with the swordsman not long after they left the restaurant. They'd see each other again soon enough, when Homura went to watch Okita and Yuffie fight. Though he did regret that Okita wasn't healed already, so he could get a better example of the woman's skills. Okita would put up a good challenge, but his dominant hand was disabled--a thought still came with a tinge of guilt for Homura.

Regardless, now he had his own business to attend to.

While he suspected most of the patients had already eaten, Homura hadn't seen Hijikata in the first restaurant, so he started off by going to the second. Even if the alternate version of the Shinsengumi captain was on his way out the door, chances were good Homura would be able to catch up with him. But it turned out his luck was better than that, and Homura grinned when he saw the vice-commander at a table just after he entered.

He also saw a number of little packets; it wasn't hard, since the man seemed to have more of them than food. Even from a distance, Homura could see that they all looked the same, so he decided to act on a hunch. Though he didn't intend to eat again so soon after his previous meal, Homura used his coupon to place an order, and got a number of those little packets himself. Not nearly so many as Hijikata, but enough for what he wanted to test out.

Taking his tray over to the man's table, Homura claimed the seat across from him without asking. Instead, his greeting consisted of picking up one of the tiny bags, and looking at it curiously. "You're rather fond of whatever's in here, aren't you?"

Hijikata had just been deciding between "pissed off" and "I'll take what I can get" reactions (even connoisseurs had their favorites) when the door creaked and a new voice sounded-- one more person placing an order. While Hijikata hadn't made a conscious decision to keep track of each and every person entering and leaving, it was getting more and more difficult as the afternoon wore on to ignore all of his surroundings. Especially when his mind was still on some kind of "Impending Danger" alert mode after that night with Takasugi.

Takasugi.

....it was a bitter thing. Seeing the man's name on the board, playing "nice" with the resident political leaders and "making reports." It wasn't even the man's hatred of him that bothered Hijikata-- hell, the Vice-Commander was far more comfortable reading the man's persistent dog metaphors than seeing him act the team player. And--

.....it's gotten worse, Hijikata thought, putting the packet down.

Just as I thought.

The bitterness--the cold, volatile anger that licked the back of his throat with slow, stinging care: it'd gotten worse since he'd gotten here. He shouldn't have read so many of those bulletin posts. Nor should he ever have considered talking or doing anything with those damned Angst!Shinsengumi besides telling them to get the fuck out.

.........he should show up here. He should show up here. It's my kind of luck, isn't it? And even terrorists have to eat sometime.

He should show up. I might as well dare him to. His club-buddies aren't here.

..............show up, damn you.

"You're rather fond of whatever's in here, aren't you?"

Hijikata looked up instantly, tensing automatically and shifting into a stance before he processed what he was doing. Narrowed, his eyes somehow fixed themselves onto one detail and he stopped, caught between just letting it go and starting something.

The guy with the chakra.

................................it took him a second, but Hijikata forced himself to relax--at least, outwardly. Leaning back into his seat, Hijikata feigned a look of disinterest and tried not to count too obviously the number of packets in Homura's stack.

"What do you want?"

[oh god, I am SO SORRY. Forgive me Fainn, please? And maybe backthread?]

"Nothing." Homura turned the packet slowly between his fingers, as if he were completely unaware of Hijikata's interest in his little collection. He'd seen his share of addicts over the years, and Homura himself had his own indulgences. He'd learned that they often translated into weaknesses, things that could be taken advantage of if one played his hand correctly.

Only eleven. Homura hadn't gathered nearly so many as Hijikata, but the demi-god thought it might be enough.

"Except to speak to you about Takasugi." Mayonnaise was written on the outside of the little bag, and Homura decided it might just be worthwhile to learn a bit more about this substance--particularly, where it was kept. "I'd like to know just what your history is. It seems more personal to me than simply belonging to different sides of a war."

[ /hits. Don't apologize; just go drink a tank of chicken soup D< ]

Eleven packets. He'd been right: MSG wasn't in the ingredient's list. He hadn't tasted it yet, though, so Hijikata couldn't say for certain whether this brand was as bad as some of the Amanto And Aliments Assocation (AAAA) imports' were. All eleven packets were of the same brand, too. Thirty-three plus eleven was forty-four.

11.

33.

44.

Multiples of 11.

......clearly, their mayonnaise stacks were meant to be.

.............it was painful. The ache of an unrequited love. But men were not made for love--no matter what Kondo-san said about gorillas and Otae-san's panties.

"He wants me dead," Hijikata said lightly, leaning his head back into the seat.

"What other reason could there be?"

Homura closed his eyes for a brief moment as Hijikata tried to brush off the question. Somehow he didn't think it was so simple as that; he'd had enough experience with people wanting him dead, after all. But those people had different reasons for wanting his life, and different ways of going about it. Someone like Kougaji or Goku had intended to defeat him in honest combat, and in the case of the latter, succeeded. Others, like the gods in Heaven, used every manipulative and subversive trick they could conceive of to break his will, to have the unclean being die as they pleased, but without doing the deed and dirtying their hands themselves.

The end goal might have been the same, but the means were what mattered in Homura's eyes. He didn't see how it could be so different for others.

"What indeed." Ripping open the corner of his packet, Homura was surprised for a moment when an oily substance oozed out over his fingers. He'd seen a similar thing at the Institute, what was called a condiment by the nurses. So it came in more than one form. Experimentally, Homura tasted a bit of the substance on his skin, finding it not entirely unpleasant, but a bit much on its own.

And of course, the movement of his tongue licking away the object of Hijikata's infatuation was purely innocent, with Homura completely ignorant of any possible effects it might have on the man watching. Absolutely.

"Perhaps something to do with that Kondou person you were so adamant about finding when you first arrived." Homura shrugged, setting down the open packet near the edge of his tray for the time being, leaving it forgotten and mostly unspent. "Or something he's done to you in the past. Someone he's killed that you cared about. Some method he's used to get to you. He might have even poisoned your--mayonnaise, is it?"

Homura met Hijikata's gaze, a faint grin crossing his lips. "I'm asking because as you can probably guess, a certain member of the alternate Shinsengumi is upset with my decision to use Takasugi. So I'd like to know just who it is I'm dealing with before I take my next step." Before he decided whether to keep his protection order over the man, or let Okita have his way with Hijikata's enemy. "Since you likely would have made a similar warning to the populace if he had any allies here, you're the only one in the Institute who can tell me what I need to know.

"So obviously, I'd appreciate it if you would."

Hijikata's eyes could only watch with a painful sort of intensity as a solitary packet of mayonnaise was opened-- ripped from the corner, exposed and defenseless--and forced out onto Homura's fingers, coating the darker skin lightly with a gentle yellow shade. Yes.....there was nothing he could do but watch as Homura's tongue groped and tensed against the thick liquid, violating with each swipe the mayonnaise's chastity with such irreverent carelessness that he nearly winced. Imagine as Hijikata might being able to just "stuff his face" with the substance, he could never bring himself to treat a fateful First Meeting lightly; for all he knew, this could be the brand that would change what he topped his beef bowls with forever.

.......there was only a faint wetness from saliva left of the mayonnaise, now. Hijikata stared with a faint sort of longing at the sticky smudge on Homura's skin before darting a glance at the raped packet left near the tray. Homura wasn't paying attention to it anymore, but he'd probably notice if Hijikata took it. But what if he tried to lick it again? There was something called preventative action. Emergency resuscitation. And that packet needed it now.

...........no. He couldn't. He just...couldn't. But at the same time, he couldn't not. Hijikata tore his eyes away from the tray and glared up and deeply into Homura's eyes, remembering his anger from before as the man spoke again.

Probing.

Perhaps something to do with that Kondou person.

Someone he's killed that you cared about.

Some method he's used to get to you.

He might have even poisoned your--mayonnaise, is it?

Someone he's killed...

...........................................................Their swords, glinting in the sunlight. Twin cries-- twin promises.

Was it ever really a promise?

I'll be the one to end you.

The same promise.

But that day...they only called their names.

Hijikata. Hijikata.

......................................................................................................Itou.

"You should have thought of that before you agreed," Hijikata said darkly. The bitterness was threatening to creep up, so he crushed it with steel.

There was definitely amusement to be found as Homura watched Hijikata's expression. Just what thoughts were running through his head, and how much control went into keeping those thoughts from making Hijikata's face contort in--whatever it was that this substance inspired. Lust was the first word that came to Homura's mind, and it wasn't one he'd so quickly write off. He had seen Son Goku in action, after all.

But his private enjoyment remained secondary, Homura never forgetting his true goal. He was careful not to outwardly react when Hijikata blew him off. Any sign of frustration would push control of the situation toward favoring the other man, and Homura refused to have that. Besides, the ground was closer to equal than Hijikata might have realized.

"I should have." Attempts to hide the mistake at this point were little more than a fool's wishing; lingering on them a fool's folly. "Thankfully, I'm still in a position where I can reconsider. I can keep Takasugi protected, lift my order--or command Okita to kill him on sight. And that just might be the simplest thing, in the end. Don't you think?" An action that would solve both of their problems, in the end. But if the past Homura held true, Hijikata wouldn't be in favor of Okita taking the matter into his own hands at all. He'd stated as such on the bulletin, more than once.

"I'm willing to trade you for the information. No one stopped me from getting these little packets. Can you say the same?" Homura picked up a second on, and casually tossed it onto Hijikata's tray. Though the throw spoke of Homura's indifference towards the stuff, he was polite enough to avoid hitting the carefully arranged stack, or anything else that might spill. No point in making a mess.

There was something about the way the godman watched him that irritated Hijikata, though he wasn't sure just what. Whether it was the way the relentless way this guy flaunted control or the way he presented ultimatums and threats every half a paragraph of conversation, Hijikata found the idea of submitting to Homura's ideas insulting without a real rational basis for why.

.....alternatively, it could just be the way he was tossing around the mayonnaise. Or the way he kept digging into Hijikata's weak points. Or talking about "commanding Okita" and "protecting Takasugi" like both options were the same to him--interchangeable, different only because of the two different sets of results that could follow.

But even so...Hijkata found himself remembering the guy he'd met yesterday in the shower. Angst!Okita, even if he'd been testing Hijikata since the beginning by not telling Hijikata who he was...for one reason or another, Angst!Okita had decided to place his faith in this man--to follow his every order and command just as Hijikata had decided he would, long ago, for Kondo-san. Hijikata didn't want to, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that any Okita would just go around tossing fealty to any power-hungry bastard that came along, so there had to be something different about this Homura guy.

It didn't mean Hijikata had to trust him. But it did mean he had to believe the man when he said he wanted to know what Takasugi was; he had to believe the godman did mean to protect those under him, including Angst!Okita, like any half-decent Shounen-Action-Series-Leader-who-Wasn't-the-Evil-Final-Boss would.

.............................

..............................yeah, probably.

"If it's 'simple' you want," Hijikata said, picking up the stray packet and placing it with shocking accuracy and balance on top of his Tower, "Lend me a sword for tonight and I'll have his head to you by morning."

He reached over and took another of Homura's packets--that made eight left in the godman's pile--and ripped the top clear off. He licked off the excess mayonnaise at the edge with something of a cross between an irritated and taunting expression--both of which clashed with the neat, careful way he was handling the mayonnaise.

"You didn't seem to care that he was a dangerous person before. Why could I tell you now that'd make a difference?"

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Dayshift 42: Tasty Burger - Afternoon

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