[Replying to this post by onichizuru, can't reblog it without a ridiculously long thing happening because it's an ask/answer.]
He'd had to go looking for his haori. It had gone missing from his room, but that didn't surprise him, as Chizuru regularly took it upon herself to do the Shinsengumi's laundry. Perhaps he had left the haori a little too long between cleanings, but it was a bit insulting for her to spirit it away and not even return it. First he checked the line outside, but it was empty, not a single piece of clothing swinging on the taut rope. So he made his way to Chizuru's room, intent to catch her in the act of washing or folding and berate her for wandering off with his clothes.
Really, he was happy that she took the care to help out with the household tasks an army of men sometimes let fall through the cracks, but the breeze was chilly, and he'd look strangely out of place on an evening patrol without the easily identifiable blue jacket. Approaching Chizuru's door, he made every effort at silence. Though not honed by war, Chizuru's oni senses were still abnormally sensitive, and he always had to put a little extra care into sneaking up on her.
It was her surprise that so rewarded him, her blush always bringing a quick smile to his face. There was no other person in the compound so easily flustered, no other who could be goaded so quickly by his taunts and jokes. From Chizuru's first morning in the compound, Okita had teased her endlessly, but she'd not yet gotten hardened to it like his Shinsengumi companions, who no longer even laughed with him. Perhaps his jokes were sometimes cruel, his sense of humor a little brutal, but he loved that moment of catching people off guard with his wit as much as he enjoyed breaking through another's defenses with the sword. He was a master, or so he thought, at both, and it didn't take much of anything to trip Chizuru. It was frequently a highlight of his day, beset as he was now with both personal trials and those of the Shinsengumi. Despite his fellow soldiers' opinion of his sense of humor, Okita was certain that a blushing girl would always be an improvement to his mood.
Okita leaned his head into Chizuru's room, finding the door slid partly open. And here was the explanation of the open door and his missing haori as well, sprawled out on the floor... Everyone's haori must be missing, in fact, as there was an overflowing basket of them next to her. Only the night shift soldiers would be missing them for now, but it would swiftly become a problem... It was not, however, his problem. It was the one haori spread out beneath the girl that caught his interest, not any logistical problem. Was it... his?
He was certain it was, and he grinned, unable to hold back a short laugh. When she woke, he was standing over her, eyes twinkling with mirth.
excerpt, onichizuru:
The older man looked as if he’d caught the proverbial canary as a red tinge crawled up her neck into her cheeks. “O-Okita-san!”
Sitting up hastily, Chizuru sheepishly looked at the rumpled material beneath her. Was it even still suitable to wear out on patrol that night? “I-I’m so sorry,” she began, “I uh…” It took several moments of silent nibbling (her lower lip red and swollen by the time she was done) before she spoke again. “I fell asleep,” she finished lamely.
"I saw that," he replied, still grinning. "But what a coincidence! This looks like... my very own haori? I never knew it would be so serviceable as a pillow." He spread his arm to indicate the full basket, and wider to her own sleeping mat behind it. "More comfortable than your other options, hmm?"