(Untitled)

[dudewheresmypig]

When; Sept. 26th, early afternoon
Rating; PG-13 for violence
Characters; Okita Souji dudewheresmypig, Himura Kenshin crossshapedscar and Ukitake Jyuushirou floating_bamboo
Summary; Okita visits the tea shop; the last thing he expected to see there was a certain redheaded assassin....
Log;

Comments

[crossshapedscar]

"Welcome," Kenshin called out out of habit when he heard the bells on the door ring--of course when he heard the voice that accompanied the bells...

Shimatta... He moved to peek around the shelving unit he was stocking.

That was most definitely Okita Souji.

He gave a long sigh before walking out in the open. There was no point beating around the bush, was there?

Hopefully Ukitake could break them up if it got violent...

[dudewheresmypig]

Okita froze. He knew that voice already... though he had only heard it a few weeks ago, the redheaded assassin had a distinctive tone. He couldn't stop himself from straightening, taking a step back, ready for what might come.

Of course they were from different worlds. Of course Himura was from his future, fourteen or fifteen years away. After the war. He still couldn't stop himself. His hands itched for the blade he'd left at home. Nagakura always did say it was foolish to go out without it. You never knew when you might meet an enemy, after all.

He forced a smile, though he knew how false it must look when he couldn't control his eyes.

"Kenshin-san. Fancy seeing you here!"

[crossshapedscar]

Kenshin inwardly winced, feeling the instant spike in kenki. So much for this ending peacefully. He was thankful then that Ukitake had no issue with him keeping the sakabatou with him in the shop, though thankfully he saw that Okita didn't seem to have a sword with him.

He didn't attempt to put a pleasant look on his face. He moved from the stacks toward the register, a tray and several boxes in-hand, his eyes trained on Okita the entire time.

"This unworthy one works here."

[dudewheresmypig]

Control. Okita took a deep breath. He would keep control. It should not be this hard.

His instincts rebelled as he half-turned to look at the racks of pottery. Cups, pots. They blended together. His focus was all on the man to his side, his skin prickling under the gaze he didn't need to meet to feel.

If he had a sword! If he - no. No. Killing the other man would do no good. Fighting in the shop of a man who had him as a guest would be unforgivably rude.

He couldn't help but notice that there were a few knives, meant for cutting sweets on the tea-tray.

Calm. Calm. "Is that so."

[crossshapedscar]

"Aa," he answered, reaching the counter.

Okita wasn't armed, true. But that didn't necessarily mean much. Anything could be made into a weapon. Especially in such close quarters.

"Ukitake-dono is a good friend of his."