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Okita supposes that she might've been looking troubled recently. And even moreso today. But that doesn't mean that she can't be surprised when Hajime sets his bowl of soba down and asks her if she's been sulking.
She opens her mouth to say some sort of silly rebuke, but she stops herself when she sees the look in Hajime's eyes. He's not just teasing her, he's actually worried.
"–If you put it that way, I guess I might've."
He hums, moving to pick at the leftover noodles in his bowl again. "Is it– that Demon Lord of yours–?"
Okita bumps her shoulder against his, slightly embarrassed. "Don't put it like that." Even if it's true, she doesn't say.
"She's been acting weird," Okita then continues, after swallowing a croquette. "More than usual. Yeah, I know," she immediately adds upon seeing Hajime's face full of disbelief, "that is possible, apparently."
He nods, "You would know. You deal with her all the goddamn time."
Okita half hums, half sighs, and stuffs another croquette into her mouth. “She's been saying all these weird things. Like stuff about lighting my candles… I don't have candles.”
Hajime makes a face, but he doesn't comment, seemingly waiting for her to go on.
Okita crosses her arms, letting out a frustrated huff. “And she always has to play along on her guitar-axe-whatever thing. Why can't Nobbu just be straightforward with me? I get that it's – possibly – some weird kind of flirting, but– ugh, it makes me want to drop her into a pool! Why does it have to be such nonsense–”
Hajime erupts into chuckles. Giggles, almost. When Okita gives him a half confused, half offended look, he waves it off, shaking his head. "That is indeed weird. You got Hajime-chan clueless as to what to say."
A moment passes where they both just slurp their noodles in silence. Of course, Hajime finishes faster than her – he loves his soba, after all –, setting the empty bowl aside. "What a good meal that was. This cafeteria is really impressive, isn't it? They'll even whip up stuff at night, just for us."
Okita smiles, "I mean, we worked ourselves to the bone today. Master must've put in a good word for us."
"They're really kind like that, huh? Straightforward with their kindness, unlike some people–"
"What," Okita snickers, having an inkling of what he might be implying, "who are you–"
"The vice commander, I mean," Hajime interjects. Suddenly there's a look on his face that's rather thoughtful, so Okita stops her chuckles. "He's so sincere that it makes him incomprehensible."
Okita thinks about this. There was a time, shortly after she'd become a Chaldean Servant, where she was still worried about her sickly state and if she could be of any use to Master, being this way. The Vice Commander then had dragged her into a confrontation at some point and gave her a lecture about proper conduct as a member – and the then only member in Chaldea save for himself – of the Shinsengumi. Attitude, etiquette, way of dressing, et cetera. Just like when they were alive, Okita had thought.
It had brought back memories of the times in the Shinsengumi. Of when she’d fought and fought, running from battlefield to training exercise to another quarrel. She’d always heeded Hijikata’s word then, determined and disciplined as she was. So, in a weird way, touched by nostalgia, Okita somehow felt a bit better about herself after that. She told Hijikata so much herself – he just grunted in response, and told her to work hard, turning his face away.
(But this kind of behavior is what makes Hijikata himself. In every word, every action, his sincerity rings through. The Shinsengumi members all each had their own sincerity to pursue – and Hijikata, who was arguably the most loyal to their leader and their cause as a whole, insisted on his more than anyone else.
That is why he is a true Shinsengumi. It's something to admire, but it does come with its share of problems, too.)
Okita recounts that particular incident with the vice commander to Hajime, and he laughs brightly, telling her about how something similar happened to him recently.
"All those years, and he's never changed," Okita finds. "But – mhm – I suppose it is comforting in its own way."
"Right on the money, Okita-chan," Hajime says, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. "I wouldn't dare to imagine the vice commander not being like this."
"That sounds really scary," she says, actually shuddering. The vice commander without his madness concerning everything Shinsengumi... What was it that someone once said? Berserkers will be–
The shoe drops in her mind, and Okita's mouth falls open in tandem. Hajime blinks at her. "Huh?"
"Berserkers," she says, everything now clear in her mind. "Summer's rolling around. In her Summer Spirit Origin, Nobbu's a Berserker. So she's just being a Berserker!"
"–I see. Heh!"
"... Is that all you have to say?"
He laughs at her, in his own, tired-lazy way. "Yes, that's all Hajime-chan has to offer. He's a boring, exhausted, freaky man–"
Okita furrows her eyebrows, "Did Nobbu say that to you? You don't need to listen to her–"
He just shrugs. There’s a strange glimmer in his eyes, one that she can’t quite put her finger on what it means. Okita gives him a look to counter, but says nothing else on the matter, deciding to finish her soba instead. She can feel Hajime watch her, but– how to say this – it’s not quite uncomfortable. It’s just perfect, actually.
(In the cold emptiness that is Chaldea’s cafeteria at night, it feels like a ray of warmth – Hajime’s watchful gaze, that is.)
After that is all done, Okita hums with wonder. "I suppose I should change into my Summer Spirit Origin soon, too. Most of the others have already done it. Maybe I'll figure out how to deal with her, then."
"You have it good," Hajime says, sighing, "you can change. I'll be damned to stick to my stuffy suit all summer."
"Can't you just... take it off?"
"You know that's not how it works. Also, I don't want to put myself on Lady Raikou's watchlist. That's one hell of a scary woman."
"... And you don't pick fights you know you can't win," Okita says. For some reason, she finds herself smiling.
(Hajime doesn't fight opponents he knows he can't win against. That's how he's invincible. But back then, in the Singularity where they'd first reunited, he still challenged Okita to a duel anyways. It may have been just to keep her away from facing the others again, despite Hajime not saying so, but–
Sincerity. That's what Okita saw back then, in the clashes of their swords and the glint in Hajime's eyes.)
Hajime's voice takes her back out of her thoughts. "That's how Hajime-chan does it, yeah. Got an issue with that?"
She looks at him wordlessly for a second. Then Okita shakes her head. "No, no. That is 'how you live', after all." And she feels herself grinning.
Hajime smiles back at her, as if he knew what she was thinking about.
Another moment of silence passes, with Okita thinking about their duel from that one Singularity again. Should she perhaps ask Nobu for a duel, too? Is that what she wants, always pushing her guitar-axe-thing into Okita’s face? Would that help things?
“Maybe you should just drop her into a pool.” Hajime says out of the blue.
“Who, Nobbu?!” Okita asks, eyebrows raised up all the way.
Hajime nods; there’s a smug quality to his face, like this is more something he wants to see than a proper suggestion for a solution. Okita purses her lips, furrowing her eyebrows, and leans over to poke his shoulder, at which Hajime makes a face. “What? Do I sound silly?”
“Yes, you very much do,” Okita says, playing up the sulking tone in her voice – she knows that this works on Hajime. “Are you being serious?” She looks him straight into the eyes, and–
“... You are,” Okita finishes her own sentence.
Hajime blinks back, and then he grins. Pats Okita’s shoulder. “Indeed, indeed. From what you’ve been saying, your lady might need to get her head washed.”
“Literally,” Okita deadpans.
“Literally.”
Okita shifts away from Hajime again and tilts her head in thought, considering the idea. She had been wanting to go for a swim once Summer rolled around again, since she missed most of it last year – and the Singularity was happening at a group of beautiful tropical islands too, to add insult to injury. Maybe she’d also thought of asking Nobbu to join her. They would break out into a big, petty water fight, Okita’s pretty sure, but…
The idea seemed fun in her head, and she’d smiled about it when she first had it. Much too widely; she immediately felt embarrassed despite just being by herself in her room, then.
She thinks about it some more, and then notices a glaring fault in the plan. “The Storm Border doesn’t have a pool, as far as I know. There’s the Simulator, right, but–”
“Don’t worry about it,” Hajime says. He leans in close, as if sharing an important secret: “See, I’ve heard something about this Singularity that Master-chan’s been investigating recently…”
Hajime reasons the swoosh sound behind him to be Okita, and he reasons right. When he turns, she's just about to land. Notably, there's a wide smile on her face.
"Did you do as I suggested?"
"Sure did!" She says, walking over, almost a skip in her step. At some point, she stops briefly, light enveloping her, and then she's in her other swimsuit – the one without the jetpack (at least it's invisible now, or something). Finally, she settles down on the beach chair next to Hajime and stretches. "That was my last trip for today. The jet pool is out of business until tomorrow–!"
Hajime furrows his eyebrows, a mix of surprise and confusion painting his expression. "And you're not going to spend the rest of the day with your girlfriend...?"
"Nobbu got roped into another round of dodgeball," Okita explains. "She actually tried to get me to join, but I escaped. Y'know, Lady Raikou was on the other team, and–"
"–that's one hell of a scary woman," Hajime says at the same time as her. They both chuckle together about this.
Okia nods, smiling, and then she turns her head to look skyward. After a moment of silence: "I also wanted to thank you."
Hajime has to control his face in order to not look as completely incredulous as he feels. "What do you have old Hajime-chan to thank for you?"
In response, she whacks him on the head. "For helping me out, of course. You silly idiot-gumi."
He rubs the spot where Okita hit; it doesn't even really hurt, but it's a reflex. "I don't think whatever I say qualifies as solid advice. But I'm glad that it helped. I guess."
Okita laughs at him, bright and clear. "You're fine. Imagine if I had gone to the vice commander–"
Hajime tries to imagine it and shudders. "No, no, that really wouldn't have ended well." He remembers how Hijikata would glare daggers at anyone who'd so much as looked at his lover the wrong way. And with how he was– is, it's completely believable that he'd actually pull his sword if needed.
There's another moment of silence. Hajime watches Okita stretch out her legs and arms again, mumbling something about a heavy feeling in her bones. She closes her eyes and her expression settles into something relaxed, something calm – peaceful, yes, that's it.
It's good to see her like this, Hajime thinks to himself.
Okita's always had a tendency to put herself under too much pressure – to keep up the image of a genius, of always being as strong as everyone said she was. And she was strong then, frighteningly so, but in her latter years, Okita's illness had made it more and more difficult to continue on.
Until she was fully stripped of her freedom, pretty much, damned to be bedridden, awaiting the end. As flowers bloomed and fell; as life passed her by and the seasons changed despite everything. Hajime still remembers the look on her face one time. She was laying there, deceptively calm, her face making what should feel like a peaceful expression–
But all he had thought was that despite still breathing, Okita looked like she was already dead.
And she still wrangles with that. With the feelings of those days, the ever-present heaviness in her chest and the numbness in her fingers. Heroic Spirits usually don't lose memories of the life they've lived, after all. Those are the burden they carry with them, in exchange for getting to exist once more again.
So to see her in such a truly serene state– Hajime can't help but feel warm fondness spread throughout his body.
His reverie is broken by Okita letting out a deep sigh. “Earlier one of the Servants on the medical team pulled me aside. I thought she was gonna ask for a jet dive, but she vehemently shook her head, saying she was concerned about… my condition instead.”
“... Ah,” Hajime just says. But looking at her, Okita doesn’t seem that bothered, actually. She just looks a bit… petulant.
Okita crosses her arms, then, “Really, in this Spirit Origin, I’m fine! I’ve got nothing to worry about! I'm so okay, I could even drop you into the pool too if I wanted to!” She boasts. There's a glint in her eyes that Hajime doesn't quite like. It reminds him of one time he'd asked her for a spar, thinking she was exhausted enough that he had a shot at winning, but–
Hajime's half into trying to tell her off before she gets any ideas when he feels himself grabbed by the shoulders and lifted up into the air.
“Wohoo!” Okita cheers. “Alright, one jet-pool-dive for this idiot-gumi, coming right up–!”
She adjusts her hold, and now she's carrying Hajime like a bride. He wants to complain, but then they're already hovering above the pool. So instead, he looks down and stares his inevitable fate into its sunset-orange-tinted watery eyes.
“It seems you're gonna have to take your shirt off after all,” Okita says, grinning.
“–What even is your agenda here, I don't get it,” Hajime says, sighing.
(But it's one filled with a secret fondness. Because Okita's clearly having fun, what with the sparkle in her eyes and the gleaming shine of her smile – happiness is radiating off of her like the sun.
Because her tuberculosis is of no concern in this form, thanks to the jetpacks (apparently; admittedly, Hajime only understood about a quarter of what that space cop was saying), Okita displays much more of the energy and enthusiasm that she originally had – before she lost it faster and faster with the start of the Shinsengumi.
It's refreshing. Makes Hajime able to forget all the memories of her face contorted with pain and shock at the state of her body – because she seemed to always perceive it as sign of weakness, even if it was something totally out of her control. Yes, it’s only deserved that the woman who spent the last years of her life chained to a one futon, one window room gets to brave the sky and fly around freely as she pleases.)
“Okay, we’re about to dive, so close your mouth and make sure to not bite your tongue. Here goes–”
The wind blowing against Hajime’s face during the descent is really not the most pleasant thing, as much as it’s cooling him off. But if Okita can have fun this way, if it’ll make her smile and laugh – then it’s not that bad, actually.
In this second life of hers, she really deserves less burdens to be held down by.