Day 43: Courtyard, Third Shift

[oftemptation]

Once again, Endrance's nurse interfered with his plans. He had been planning to look around the Game Room, but the moment he began to move towards the Sun Room, she had taken him by the arm. "Your family has asked that we make sure you get as much fresh air and sunshine has possible, and you won't get that by staying inside playing video games all

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[notachick]

Such a pretty white, but hidden in the smallest grooves of the petals, Okita could see the hints of gray. It wasn't a pure white, it was nature's white, the kind that seemed beautiful until one looked too closely. The flower was pretty though, even with its imperfections, and Okita found himself running his fingertips along the curves of the petals ever so gently, trying to capture that feeling of near purity in his hands. He didn't seem to be gathering anything more than light puffs of pollen, however, and Okita pulled his hand back, searching the expanse of green before him for more flowers like this one. Hidden beneath the green, he could see them, dotted here and there - the last of the late autumn blooms.

He was so engrossed in the flowers that he didn't notice anyone coming up. At first, when he hadn't seen Homura at the flowerbed, he'd assumed the man had received a visitor. Or perhaps that he simply wasn't coming. So when he heard that voice almost directly on top of him, he startled and drew his hand back like the leaves had cut him.

Okita still didn't know what to say exactly, and so he reverted to his usual cheer. It was a safe plan, one that he knew worked. Usually. "I thought I'd come see how many were braving the first signs of winter. They're really very pretty, hm?" He reached out again, tapping the white petals and smiling. He knew he should look up at Homura, but he didn't want to see the man's face yet. He wasn't sure what he would see when he looked up, and so he continued to focus his attention on the flower. Leaning his head onto his arms, his smile softened as his hand traced the petals one by one. "I'm surprised at how brave they are."

[screwthegods]

It was odd that he would have startled Okita so; like Homura, the man had the honed survival instinct of a warrior. The smallest sounds could be the only hints he might get before an enemy struck at his back, and missing those tiny warnings could prove fatal. Just what had Okita been thinking about so deeply then, that he hadn't realized Homura had approached?

Flowers, if the smile was to be believed. And perhaps this time there was some truth behind the joy. Okita didn't linger on thoughts he didn't wish to think. After their talk on the bulletin, wouldn't his mind seek shelter in whatever harbor it could find? Or perhaps Homura was simply imposing his own desires onto his friend now, in the face of his own grief.

It was difficult to tell. It was difficult to think.

"Genjyo Sanzo was murdered last night." The flowers were pretty. Small rebels that bloomed even in the face of the coming winter, even if it meant their deaths. Like Sanzo. They would die like Sanzo. Like Okita would die too. How many days until the cold overwhelmed them?

Rinrei would say that even if she couldn't die, she would if Homura died. He understood her pain well then. He understood it better now.

"What did you do with the notes you took down?" Did it matter? Maybe. Or maybe Homura didn't know what else to say.

[notachick]

Homura wasn't looking at him. Okita couldn't feel the heat of someone's stare on him, which meant he must be looking at the flowers, too. It seemed silly, both of them not looking at each other, but Okita recognized the reasons well enough. Homura's attitude wasn't just one of rejection, it was grief. Kenren had passed on his news, and now, Homura was reeling under the weight of it. Okita wished he knew the right things to say at times like these, but he didn't. Not really. He knew how to comfort someone's guilt and how to buoy someone's sadness, but not alleviate their grief. That had always been someone else's job, someone who had a spot of humanity left in them.

"Genjyo Sanzo was murdered last night."

His fingers stopped tracing the flower petals, the weight of his hand causing the flower to tilt slightly to the right. His smile faded and he nodded slightly, lifting his head from his arms. "I heard from Kenren-san. I ran into him this morning." Slipping his fingers down, Okita fingered the flower's stalk, but then pulled his hand away, deciding to leave the poor thing where it was. "I'm...sorry, Homura-san." He stood and finally looked at his leader. "For your loss. I truly am. For you and Kenren-san both."

That was really all he could say, wasn't it? All he could do was offer his sympathy, and later his sword should they find the murderer. But...it would be too much like her death. He could lead the group to the killer, but he wouldn't be the first to enter the building, nor give any strikes. That honor and that burden would go to the grieving parties, to the ones who needed the closure.

Dropping his gaze, he looked over the flowerbed again and sighed under his breath, wishing that Homura hadn't brought up the notes. He'd kept them, if only because he couldn't leave them on the board for everyone to see. He should have known better than to tease the demi-god that far, especially when the conversation had taken a more serious turn, but he wasn't exactly reknowned for taking the smart path all the time. Reaching into his pocket, Okita pulled out the notes, all folded up together. "I have them. I suspected you wouldn't want them seen by everyone in the Institute. Not when you need to present a strong front to them."

[screwthegods]

There wasn't an offering this time, and for a brief moment, Homura selfishly wondered if Okita meant to stop giving him those little gifts from now on. What would the man do if he discovered that Homura kept the flowers, each pressed carefully between the pages of his journal and left to dry? But that wasn't the reason. So much life had already been lost. It was a poetic gesture, and one Homura could appreciate just then: letting the flowers continue their struggle to live on.

To the words, Homura only offered a nod at first. He felt much the same helplessness then as he had in the chapel only a shift prior. Homura was the leader, the one expected to give direction. But he respected Kenren, and lacked a name as to the guilty party. For now, his hands were tightly bound, or so it felt to a man who knew action as a primary response.

"Whoever did it is unknown. Your puppies specialize in this sort of thing, don't they?" Certainly better than any of them did fighting. If they were under his leadership, even if only through Okita, Homura would make use of that. "Could they find out who is responsible?"

A name, a description. It was all they would need. Kenren had both his gun and Homura's sword at his disposal for the rest.

Okita was standing now, and Homura finally turned his eyes towards the other man. The reason for the sigh was evident, and Homura let out his own feelings in the form of a smirk. When the other man drew out the papers, Homura shook his head.

"Do what you wish with them. I'm not likely to forget what you've already said."

Why would he want to hold on to the papers that told of his rejection, after all? Okita had taken them into his keeping, and Homura was content enough to let them remain there--be they as whole papers, or in shreds.

[notachick]

"Yes, and so do others under my command." It was a simple matter to give orders to Ayumu or to Heiji, but getting Kaito or even Shinichi to cooperate would be harder. He'd need to speak with them later in order to gain their cooperation, although without evidence or a clue as to where to start, it might be harder to do. Considering they couldn't return to the scene of the crime until the next week? That was probably worse. "I'll see what I can do, but I'll need to pass them all the information you have in order to facilitate the investigation. When you are ready, please send them to me, written, so I may pass them to the others."

But not right now. The death wasn't even 24 hours old yet, and Okita knew how long it took for the grief of normal people to abate. He'd seen men who'd never shed a tear in their life cry when they brought her body back. He himself had felt sick to his stomach at the state she'd been in. He only felt worse when he realized he couldn't cry like the others. While Sanzo's death might not be like Ayumu's, it didn't lessen the pain of it. He wished he knew how better to alleviate Homura and Kenren's grief, but when he himself didn't know how to deal with it, how could he help someone else? And a grief he did not feel? It would seem...superficial somehow.

The papers were still held between them and when Homura refused them, Okita pulled them back and stuck all but one of them in his pocket. That one he started folding as he spoke, wondering just what was going through Homura's mind when he said all that he had. The written notes were the closest Okita had ever come to hearing anyone confess to him; and how much more strange was it that it should come from his new leader? A man he'd chosen to follow as he'd once done for Hijikata. Someone who's judgment and command he followed almost as absolutely. He didn't like to think about it, but the way Homura was acting...

"...I was unfair to you, Homura-san," he finally said, kneeling down again to continue folding the paper into shapes. Could Okita really have hurt him? It didn't seem possible and of all things, Okita wasn't the one to turn to for 'relationships' of any type. He knew devotion, loyalty, and killing - there was no room there for emotions. They had work to do, Homura had Rinrei, and Okita had so little time left. "My answer-- your...words startled me. I did the only thing I could think of." He'd answered without answering and then ripped the entire thing from the board, trying to hide it. In retrospect, it probably wasn't too smart of him. "But it was unfair. I apologize."

[screwthegods]

Homura of course knew who Okita meant by others, and for a moment, it was tempting to agree to the reassignment. But as important as it was to find Sanzo's killer, the demi-god shook his head slightly after that brief pause. "Only the puppies--and they're not to know what we intend to do to the guilty party. We can't offset our goals because of this; even Kenren knows that." And had reminded Homura of the fact only a brief time before.

"I'll get the information I can from Kenren. As far as I know, he was the only one there when Sanzo died." From wounds that had been inflicted who knew how long before, by an unknown source. "It's possible that his body would have been transferred to the morgue here. Perhaps they'll be able to find something that way." Kenren had been able to tell that the monk had been murdered, after all, and the puppies were from a future time. If they could discern something, then Homura wanted them to look, and dead bodies were likely only kept for a short time.

Okita drew the papers away, and Homura watched as he began to fold the first. Part of him wanted to ask what his friend intended to do, but further rejection on top of what he was already feeling seemed too much. Though he knew the notes would most likely end up destroyed, the lack of confirmation allowed Homura...something. A something that wasn't found in Okita's apology. "Don't. Your first answer was instinct--and that is probably the truest reflection of how you feel."

In that sense, taking down the notes, and discarding them as he would any other piece of unwanted baggage had been the clearest answer Okita could give.

[notachick]

The murderer would himself be murdered. Okita had no problem with that brand of justice as it was the exact thing he'd done for the past year in Kyoto. Those who threatened or harmed Tokugawa officials found themselves decapitated and their heads hung on public display. Or, sometimes worse, left for dead in the streets for days while their corpse gathered flies, while Shinsengumi men waited in the shadows for someone to come claim them. Sometimes the ploy worked, sometimes it didn't. When it didn't? The clean-up wasn't so pleasant.

Okita nodded his head and tucked Homura's information away. He would need to ask Heiji and the others if they were willing first, then let them know that looking into the morgue was a possibility. If the Radio Man's body had been taken there, then why not Sanzo's? At the very least, they might be able to find a file record of the man's autopsy. "I'll contact them before the day is out," he said, confirming that he'd understood everything his leader had just said.

His leader and his friend, who was now under a great deal of stress. None of which Okita was really helping to alleviate. His fingers deftly folded the paper into squares and triangles, leaving sharp creases at the edges, perhaps a little too sharp. But it was taking shape and as he began to work on the last bit of his newest origami creation, he let the edges smooth out, become a little more natural, and finally begin to imitate its real life counterpart. The flower wasn't anywhere near perfect, but it was completed and Okita ran the pad of his forefinger across the petals. He'd been careful to make sure none of the writing showed, so that only the pure white of the paper could be seen, so perhaps Homura wouldn't think he was trying to get rid of them, but merely trying to return something he couldn't say. "You shouldn't put such weight into the written word," Okita said, pushing off the ground lightly and climbing to his feet.

The cold was starting to bite into him and he realized that his nurses hadn't given him a jacket today. Perhaps it was because they hadn't heard him coughing today yet. Today was a good day, save for the very early morning. Looking down at the paper flower in his hands, he stepped forward and offered it to Homura, along with a small, but distant smile. "And what answer was that? My lack of one?"

He'd been careful not to say yes or no, or anything really. He'd simply backed away as he always did when people talked to him like that. There were things that Okita could partake in - daily life, fighting, killing, training, laughing, talking - and there were things he could never do. One of them was get involved with someone. Not with that thing lurking inside him, not with the disease waiting to destroy everything and the blood that tainted his hands. His job was to kill, not to embrace. "Besides we're discussing it like you asked, aren't we?"

[screwthegods]

With Okita's agreement, Homura considered the matter of discovering Sanzo's murderer settled for the time being. While it was difficult to retrain the urges to act immediately, patience was the thing needed at the moment. Patience, and the willingness to move forward regardless of what had transpired. If Kenren was willing to do so, then certainly Homura could do the same.

Moving ahead, however, put Homura in unwanted territory. Perhaps it had been the news of Sanzo's demise that had made the demi-god more willing to accept silence as the answer. But now it was Okita pursuing the topic, and Homura couldn't deny having wished to discuss it further. In person, where the other swordsman couldn't run, or hide behind the chosen medium. Not putting weight into the written word, indeed.

"Sometimes silence can be more telling of an answer than any words." Though if Okita wished to prove him wrong, Homura would certainly listen. But that Okita didn't desire to return Homura's feelings was clear, regardless of the reason. What good did it do to stretch things further? Still, Homura had himself said he enjoyed pushing boundaries. Perhaps it was time his own undergo further testing, and to that end, he took the paper flower Okita offered. "But since we are discussing it now--what would your answer be, now that you have had time to recover from your shock?"

[notachick]

Since Homura did not pursue the subject any further, Okita realized that it was decided. It was, of course, the smartest route to take, but it hinged on whether or not Heiji and the others were willing to take the case. He didn't think they'd sit idly by with a murderer on the loose, especially not when their assistance was requested by a friend, but they were busy and they had their own lives to live as well. If they didn't...then it would fall to who? The History Club couldn't be seen going after a vendetta, not when they needed all the good press they could get. It was the same as getting involved in a private fight for the Shinsengumi. Anything that would damage the pride or the standing of the whole could not be done on the behalf of an individual regardless of how important they were.

He would have to word his post carefully, however, in order to avoid alerting others to their investigation. Especially a certain ninja who seemed to be getting all too close to Lelouch and his Network. Yuffie would likely disagree with the manhunt as much as she'd disagree - or rather, hate him - for helping Loz and Kadaj. It was a sticky situation to be in, but so long as he kept her nose out of it, perhaps it would go over smoothly.

Which was more than he could say for his current situation. Homura, at least, took the offered paper flower, allowing Okita to pull back and tug at his sleeves. He really should have gotten a jacket. If he came down with a real cold thanks to the thin sweater he wore, he was going to be rather cross with himself. Maybe if he called a nurse over, she could retrieve one for him; or maybe he was merely stalling for time thinking about his clothing rather than Homura's question. What would his answer be? The same answer he gave everyone who had ever confessed to him, but for different reasons.

In Kyoto and in Edo, he'd been too busy. He was constantly training new recruits, helping Hijikata and Kondo conduct business, going on patrols, listening to intel, organizing troop movements, taking care of the children, and making sure Hijikata didn't die from too much tobacco and too little sleep. Then the coughing had started and the medicines and he'd stopped going out at all unless he had a reason. Here, he wasn't as busy. He had leisure time, which was an unusual thing in and of itself, but... Custom-fit just for you. It wasn't contagious. It wouldn't kill everyone around him like before. He didn't want to use it as a crutch, but the fact remained that he was still going to die and leave people behind just like before. He'd seen the pain it caused when loved ones died and he didn't want to cause that again.

Shuffling his toe across the ground, Okita put his hands behind his back and turned his face away, looking at the flowers. He'd been quiet for too long, but he had no idea how to phrase this. If it was someone he didn't care for at all, it was easy to say 'Sorry, but I can't', but Homura was different. He seemed hurt and, well, Okita respected him. And unlike the faceless others, he'd still have to meet with and wanted to meet with the demi-god later. "I'm afraid it's...." he said, starting slowly, carefully picking his words while simultaneously knowing they were the wrong ones. He had to start over, but why was he so tongue-tied? And why couldn't he just reject Homura outright?

Tilting his head to the side, he thought for a moment, closing his eyes until he found the words he wanted to say. When he thought he'd grasped them, he straightened and looked Homura in the eye. "It isn't right to divide your attention. Particularly considering that the organization of the group, the furthering of your goals and saving her is more important. We should focus on pushing you as close as possible to regaining what is truly important to you. I wish to support you in this and I will. You have my loyalty both as your officer and your friend, and my sword until I am no longer able to hold it." He was rambling. Okita sighed and dropped his gaze, his head angling slightly to the right as he did so. "Besides, it isn't fair to you, all things considered. So isn't it better we just stay as we are?"