damned_institute | Day 46: Lunch

The mere fact that she'd been susceptible to whatever hold the Institute had had on her yesterday was sufficient to leave Ayumu both upset and angry - no, not angry, downright furious, both at herself and whoever was responsible for that. But there was also the fact that because of it, she'd lost out on an entire day of work, and in several ways had ruined some of what she'd done already. That little conversation with Himura the day before, for instance, was something she'd sincerely prefer not to remember if she'd had any choice in the matter.

Unless the man was a complete moron, which, unfortunately, was one thing she couldn't believe of him, he had to have realized just who her brother was. After all the effort to keep that fact quiet (not exactly a secret, but certainly not advertised; half the Shinsengumi probably never even realized it because there was no reason to) she'd gone and chatted about it with him. Told him all about it, practically painted a bright target around a weakness that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

She'd spent the shift in the Sun Room pretending to sleep, while in truth forcing herself into calm. After years of practice she could shunt away the useless and distracting emotions, focusing only on what was important and needed to be at the forefront of her mind, and by the time the intercom signaled the lunch period she was feeling considerably calmer. The time to silently observe others had, as well, alerted her to something she probably should have noticed earlier: Mello was back. Would her previous objective be reinstated now? He seemed to have far less of a bulletin presence this time, so perhaps not. Still, though, it bore investigating.

None of her thoughts were visible, of course, as she moved through the line, examining the lunch selection somewhat dubiously. Now with the benefit of Yuuko's memories she might recognize the food, but she certainly didn't share the enthusiasm for it that her imaginary self apparently had. Ayumu skipped past that part and settled for the salad bar and some bread, then positioned herself in a place where she could watch both the door and the rest of the room, setting her journal open in front of herself as though planning to write something. There was far too much that she'd missed, too much work to do now.

[for Okita]

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Lunch was the greasy triangles again, and Hanatarou wrinkled his nose slightly as he regarded the food lying in front of him. At his nurse's prodding and claim that he "loved pizza" he took one piece and set it on his tray along with a piece of bread, then quickly moved on over to the salad. He was starting to get heartily sick of salad, but really, it was about the only edible thing they served.

He sighed and dropped into an empty seat and started picking at his food, eating more out of the knowledge that he needed it than any real hunger. It wasn't as though he expected to be able to do anything worthwhile, because, well, that would have been silly. But nothing he did really helped anyone, or got him any closer to getting back home, and...well, it was better than cleaning sewers in Seireitei and he had friends here, but sometimes he just couldn't help but want to go home. To just tend the 4th Division greenhouses and sweep the courtyard and have Hisagomaru's comforting presence at his side.

For now, though, all he could do was stare at his tray, completely oblivious to anyone and anything around him as he mechanically put food in his mouth.

[for Kenren]

"You look like someone kicked your puppy, kid," Kenren said with a grin as he slid into the seat next to Hanatarou, reaching out to ruffle his hair in a friendly way. He did look pretty miserable. Then again, Hanatarou looked pretty nervy all the time so maybe it wasn't such a surprise. But he didn't like seeing it and to be honest, he was still pretty angry about what that jerk had said to him on the bulletin. Free will was something that Kenren favoured more than almost anything and he hated this idea of slavish devotion to duty.

He set his own plate down and took a bite of the pizza. Not his favourite food, but it wasn't bad. "Something wrong, Hanatarou?"

Though he didn't see anyone approaching him until Kenren was already there, the hand reaching for him made Hanatarou automatically flinch as soon as he caught sight of the movement from the corner of his eye. When it just turned out to be a hair-ruffle he blinked a little, then gave the older man a somewhat surprised look. He hadn't spoken to any of the History Club members since the other night, except for the message from Homura on the bulletin, and he'd been starting to wonder if they still remembered he was there. It wouldn't have been unusual if they'd forgotten him, and finding that they hadn't startled him more than slightly.

"Uh? N-nothing," he replied, somewhat uncertainly. "It's, um, not...anything. You're okay?" He'd had trouble keeping an eye on everyone in the darkness and...everything, the other night. But apparently Homura was hurt. Unless that had just happened last night?

He frowned a little when Hanatarou flinched at the touch. That wasn't a reaction that he liked to see. The kid really was nervy, or else he was expecting to be hit and neither of those options gave Kenren much confidence. In what kind of place did a good healer end up acting like a kicked puppy? He was liking this Soul Society place less and less by the day. He smiled reassuringly at the kid as he finished his mouthful of food.

"I'm... I've been better but I'll live. Nothing physical though so no worries about healing, okay?" He always seemed like he needed to be doing something, like he felt he had to prove how useful he was even when he wasn't healing. "I was just a bit worried. That git on the bulletin laid into you pretty badly the other day. You okay? I meant to check up earlier but events got the better of me."

It wasn't the most reassuring statement ever, but at least it sounded honest; there really wasn't really anything Hanatarou could do about anything that didn't need healing, and even there he wasn't terribly useful, so he had to accept it anyway. If there was something he could do then he wouldn't have been sitting there feeling oddly homesick, after all. He gave Kenren a mildly worried look before nodding and glancing back down at his tray.

"The...what?" On the bulletin? Hanatarou paused for a moment to think, then blinked as he realized what Kenren must be talking about. "Oh. Oh, you mean, er, Hitsugaya-taichou?" That conversation was a little hard to forget, considering what it had led to. "He, ah, said...I can do what I want to..."

Kenren nodded, his expression darking a little. "Yeah, that guy," he agreed easily. "Lording it over you like you don't get any say in the matter. Bloody military. I don't know what kind of world you come from, but it's a bit too much like mine for my liking. Obey mindlessly those higher up than you. Might work there, but here... you're a talented Healer. You should be shown more respect." He paused thoughtfully. "You should be shown more respect anyway, but at least he should respect you as a healer."

At least the guy had agreed to let Hanatarou do what he wanted which was a relief. "Good. If you have any trouble, speak to me and I'll talk to him."

Hanatarou was starting to think that he'd stepped out of one conversation, in which he sort of knew what was going on, into another one entirely. Or maybe Kenren had just managed to get a completely wrong idea of just who he was and what he could do. A talented healer? Should be shown respect? Him? Why would anyone do that?

He could only stare at Kenren, eyes wide, for several long moments as he tried to figure out just what he was talking about. "Um," he finally managed, the word half a squeak, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I...I'm, er, okay?" Pause. "Th-thank you..." The last part made a bit more sense. He could reply to that, at least.

Day 46: Lunch

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