Day 50: Chapel

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The last thing Claude heard was the Head Doctor's voice faintly filtering into the corridors of the ship before he found himself tucked beneath the sheets of his bed. It took a moment to register he'd even changed locations, but then he he abruptly sat up, fought the wave of nausea that washed over him, and felt the blankets beneath his fingers. The room. He was back in his room now. Under different circumstances, he might have wondered if last night had been some horrid dream, but the sharp pain in his eyes gave him a rude awakening. Hissing through his teeth, Claude buried the heels of his palms against his lids, only to discover two cold compresses had been taped over them.

"Good morning, Thomas," he heard the nurse's cheerful voice from beside his bed. Her sudden presence nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he sharply turned toward the source of the greeting, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well today, but hopefully you can still enjoy some of the activities we have planned."

'Not feeling well' was a bit of an understatement. His hand hurt, his stomach kept turning with every movement, and it felt like someone had dumped a bunch of sand into both eye sockets. Right now, Claude just wanted the nurse to leave him be, but it didn't look like that was an option. Taking his uninjured hand, she gently tugged him out of bed, despite his protests that, no, really, he just wanted to stay in and sleep, please.

"I think getting out of your room a little bit will do you good," she told him. "I'm sorry your eyes are probably hurting, though. If you're ever feeling uncomfortable, don't hesitate to ask one of us for some pills."

"What about eye drops?" Claude asked tightly.

"Oh, no, too much of that could damage your eyes," she cautioned, and the sheer irony of the situation hit Claude so hard that it would have been laughable if he didn't already feel like crying right then. The nurse was as oblivious to it as always, however. "I know you usually go into the chapel during this shift. Would you like to go there again?" Claude didn't answered immediately, but that didn't deter the nurse. "Yes, I think that sounds best..."

In truth, he probably should have requested the sun room -- it was closer, for one, which meant the nurse didn't have to lead him as far of a distance. For another, lying down on one of their sofas sounded like a good option. But by the time Claude came to that conclusion, he was too stubborn to say anything, and he made his way up to the second floor, his footing slow, but steady.

The nurse deposited him on one of the central pews, next to the aisle, before leaving him to himself. Thankfully, it was still early in the shift. As he paused to listen, the room was mostly silent, save for the footsteps and hushed voices of the occasional staff member or patient who trickled in. But it was probably only a matter of time before others came. For some reason, the thought of being stuck in a crowded room made him tense, not necessarily because he thought anyone would pay him any mind, but because he simply didn't want it right then.

Somehow, the full implications of what happened last night hadn't sunken in: experiments, healing himself, the issue of whether he could actually go home after this, not being able to see, the ship, father. Instead, he just felt saturated with all of it, paralyzed by the horror of what they'd done to him, and the uncertainty of what it all meant beyond this moment. Claude took a shuddering breath, uninjured hand balling into a fist in his lap.

[For Guy.]

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[screwthegods]

Relieved that Okita had neither harmed those he'd attacked nor been harmed in their defense, Homura gave a short nod as he considered his next move. If left to his own devices, Okita would go after the boy again, without doubt. But using the wrong form of prevention would not only risk driving a deeper wedge between himself and Okita, but the reputation of the more amiable public face of the History Club. He couldn't take responsibility for Okita's actions as his leader, and not just because Okita had acted on his own.

"I will handle Okita personally." But Homura also couldn't risk missing him as had happened the night before. Issuing an order would likely be enough, but Homura also had another idea in mind. With Teresa's good fortune the night before, Homura could at last fullfill the promise he'd made to Okita--and with ideal timing.

"I see. And the boulders weren't easily avoided, even with your speed?" Homura had only planned to send physically equiped groups on the more dangerous missions, but Okita and Himira were his fastest pair. If they had trouble, it didn't bode well for fighters like himself and Kenren, who had greater abilities in strength. "Did anything else happen?"

[degozaruyo.livejournal.com]

In any other sense Kenshin might have worried that Homura ‘handling Okita personally’ would not go well for either of them, but Homura had much more to lose than one of his greatest fighters if he decided to discipline the Shinsengumi captain. He and Okita were friends; Homura would do everything in his power to ensure that this ended well for as many people as possible because he didn’t want Okita hurt.

The rurouni shrugged. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “It was more a matter of timing than speed. Without a clear pattern to follow, we were left with only our senses of hearing and a distant rumble to indicate where and when a boulder would be coming toward us. The immediate reaction is to try to time the rocks to see when the next one is coming, and in this case the immediate reaction is completely useless. It’s got less to do with being quick and everything to do with never stopping, never resting. You have to make it through the tunnel basically in one go or else you’ll be crushed.” It had been maddening, the way the rocks had come at them without rhyme or reason and no way to determine when the next one would come. He had been taught to think on his toes and react to the slightest change, but he also liked patterns. Every swordsman was predictable, if one bothered to study the patterns. Nothing was truly random in life…except for these rocks, apparently.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We got to the end of the hallway and opened the door, and then…nothing. This one woke up back in his bed, just like every other night. Still, this one does believe we were in the basement. It seems consistent with some of the stranger descriptions this one has read on the bulletin board, back before the nurses started policing every note.”

[screwthegods]

Himura's assessment of his relationship with Okita being correct kept the man from questioning his resolve, at least openly. Homura was satisfied to let the subject drop, particularly since a glance over his shoulder revealed the company he'd been expecting all along. Okita had been ready to kill Kenshin once already for news he told Homura. A second strike didn't need to be added on, particularly not with the swordsman already on edge.

To the topic of the cavern, then. Homura listened carefully, knowing that if that place was indeed in the basement, it was likely an obstacle they would encounter again. He'd need to take it into consideration when assembling groups for exploration, though that might well be unlikely on this particular night. With Hattori's condition, any assignment would have to be low on risk. And in his own case, he might well end up spending the night in Okita's room, pressed against the door if the swordsman refused to listen to reason. Still, there were others, and the early responses to the common board left him hopeful.

"There are ways to confirm it, though I cannot send you down there tonight, for obvious reasons." Even without the danger Hattori was in, Homura suspected he'd be unlikely to survive such a room. He had talent, certainly, but his skill still needed to be honed. "Still, I'd like to assign you to a task, with Hattori. He cannot spend his nights locked in his room if he's to overcome this." Homura still remembered the boy's question, one he had been unable to answer due to the staff's interference.

"Besides, you'll have that woman with you as well, correct? Kamiya." Though Homura had heard little from the girl herself, as Himura typically acted as the spokesperson. "It might be limited to gathering supplies, but a simple task is necessary in this case."