A/N: Just a short, static and introspective piece centered on a conversation. Written after turning around particularities of the back-and-forth interaction between these two, which I personally think has really complex undertones. Pairing only if you squint... really hard.

Stay Like That

Even the city of Kyouto, the paragon of energy and conflict, and who knew how many other forms of motion and dynamism, seemed to get tired after festivals. It was a bit of an interesting thing to watch, perhaps. The people of the capital really went all out in their pursuit of entertainment - of their temporary escape from whatever chased each individual case. They filled the streets with scents and lights, fickle decorations, and shouts and drunken brawls that would mean nothing the next morning. It was noise for the sake of making noise, agitation without source or purpose, meaningless and inconsistent, but oddly intense. And then... what followed was a pleasant, quiet sleep.

In the wake of that flood of colors, it almost looked like even eyesores such as political intrigues and groups scheming in the corner had vanished on the wind. The Choushuu, too, could have been merely figments of dream, and 'sonnou joui' just part of that meaningless noise in the distance. For just a short while, it was okay to sit down in the grass and close your eyes to everything.

Or so one might have been tempted to think. There was one existential truth that a Shinsengumi member learned extremely quickly: things such as peaceful evenings were all lies. They didn't exist, because the group lived in an alternate reality governed by the demon king himself. ...Or something like that. At any rate, as far as Okita Souji was concerned, he could have easily named and described the single cause responsible, invariably, every time, for the complete obliteration of any single thought of rest.

And, well... A demon was a correct assumption, in a way.

"Hijikata-san!" he called as he entered the room, trying to peek over the stack of bound logbooks and neatly rolled papers in his arms. "Is this what you needed?"

As the black-haired man looked up from his seat in front of the small writing surface, the hand with the brush stopped for merely a moment. "Probably," he said.

"I think it is, at least," Okita continued to chat as he set everything down. "Haha... I could easily take the credit, but to be honest it was Hajime-kun's find. He stayed behind to put everything else back in order."

The briefest trace of a smile appeared for a split second as Hijikata didn't even look up. "That's just like Saitou. Never does anything halfway."

"Mm-hmm." Slightly smirking, with that usual air of his that had the gift of easily making anything seem carefree and light, Okita leaned in closer. "Oh? Look who's talking, Hijikata-san. You must be really into it, to have done this much already."

The black-haired man seemed taken aback for a moment, his hand pausing again. He quickly cleared his throat. "You just took a while to return."

"Oh, so that's it," Okita teased with his entirely unconvinced, almost patronizing tone. "That's good, then. I'd have almost thought you're pushing yourself too hard." He sat back and leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on Hijikata's hand as it continued to move, drawing quick but firm black lines on the paper. "It's barely the second day after a festival, you know? I can't imagine anyone that isn't you seriously working right now."

Of course, the comment summoned a mild trace of annoyance. "Then why are you here? I don't recall directly asking you to do anything."

"Yes, well... it can't be helped. You're in here, working all by yourself. It's so sad just looking at you was making me feel guilty."

"You're distracting me more than helping!"

"That's not it. You just don't understand the idea of taking a break."

Although, to be honest, all of this was part of what made Hijikata... Hijikata. And that was why Okita could only mock it with a gentle smile. It would seem, however, that his entire merry mood had gone right past his stone-cold interlocutor, like water through a zaru. And there he'd been, doing it out of concern that the man might be needlessly pushing himself over trivial matters. That's gratitude to you... or so he would have liked to joke. But Okita had always been smart - sometimes too much so. For him, the subtle signs that others wouldn't even notice provided enough proof; something more important than writing a report for the Aizu-han must have been on his vice-commander's mind. And of course, Hijikata, who knew him well, would also be aware that he could tell. Which meant something was going to—

"Souji." This time, the hand stopped for good. It didn't resume, even though it had left off in the middle of a complicated kanji.

Okita had to suppress a flinch of surprise - it seemed like the other was a couple of seconds ahead of him already.

"Oh my," he said. "That sounded serious. Someone ratted me out about making fun of that overly sober face you had this morning?"

"Souji!" Hijikata's tone instantly reprimanded him. The vice-commander sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. "Was that you coughing outside just earlier?"

"..."

Reversed... roles... Was it? No matter how you looked at it, this was just too ironic.

The tip of the slender calligraphy brush went into the inkstone, rolling around slowly and then pressing briefly over the edge, to get rid of excess. And the black lines began appearing again, in quick succession, almost like a game of tag. A game... huh? It had been a while since Okita had been able to play outside with the children from the capital's busy streets. It would probably be a while still. Most likely... a while called 'never again'.

He'd grown used to that thought.

"You've had that cold for a long while now," Hijikata continued. The same business-like, fixed, unaltered tone. "I can only assume that, even though I specifically gave you time off for that very purpose, you're not taking good care of yourself." In the brief pause between two kanji, his eyes shot up for a single, short, but very firm glance. "Or is there something you'd like to explain?"

"Oh?"

Maybe it was just Okita's impression, but... Hijikata's collected air seemed different from the usual. How long had he been thinking about this? Was it the kind of thing that just returned, over and over again, for no reason at all? How useless, really. This was the kind of thing that even the Demon of the Shinsengumi wouldn't be allowed to win. So said the expression that had formed on Okita's face in response. It was a rare sight for him. Sometimes, at least. Everyone knew he preferred to joke around, and offer those strange, unreadable faces that helped him put people off. And the next moment he'd be teasing and mocking those naïve enough to believe him, and everything would be fine. But now... The thin line of displeasure his lips had formed into almost stayed with him. It was only through an effort of will that he chased it away.

Really lucky that the other man had work to do.

"Guess I caught another one," he said as he gave a light shrug. "Though how I managed that is quite the mystery... since a certain someone's been over-reacting and keeping me from going anywhere."

"Tch." Discarding the brush, Hijikata slowly stood up, paper in hand. "Kondou-san needs to see this before it can be sent."

In a way, it could be said that the air in the room had grown heavier. It was another Shinsengumi vice-commander trademark - a similar thing to the famous 'killing intent' that any well-trained swordsman could boast of being able to read in an opponent's movements, as well as show off in his own. Something complicated like that... and just as troublesome, to be sure.

"Hijikata-san," Okita said with his carefree laugh. "You really don't remember how to do much else except worry, do you?" He waved his hand dismissively, as if to mock. But something in his smirk had changed, too. "Just so you know, I'll get annoyed if you nag."

As a moment of silence rolled past, a small frown appeared in the lines of the black-haired male's face and he stopped in the doorway. It seemed - Okita thought with a vague trace of amusement - as if he were painted over the scenery outside. Really sticking out, too. That was Hijikata-san for you, as usual.

"It's not like those times anymore," the vice-commander murmured, as if lost somewhere far-away - but only for a moment. "Get some rest."

Those times, huh? The times of the Shieikan dojo, with everyone laughing together in the face of an uncertain future... Souji had been thinking of that, too. Even back then... the young man with black hair and a mature look about him had always been the first one to glance up if someone said 'trouble'. That... hadn't changed.

Alone now, one knee drawn to his chest as he continued to sit against the wall, Okita looked out through the open door Hijikata had disappeared from. Although what he contemplated with that cloudy facial expression probably couldn't be found there.

"Really, Hijikata-san..." he said softly, his lips barely moving. "You're probably the last person I'd tell."