Once the afternoon arrived, Hijikata moved to the kitchen to see how much food was left over. He glanced over the room; glad that nobody was around to see him. When the man gazed at the stove, he found what he was looking for. Further inspection revealed that some rice remained in the pot. Glancing over his shoulders, Hijikata stealthily moved to one of the cabinets. He silently opened it and pulled out a small bento box.

It wasn't that he was being bad. Really, he wasn't. He didn't want one of the guys to see him doing something like this. Checking his surroundings once more, Hijikata started to carefully scoop the rice into the bento. He managed to do so; unspotted. Next the man moved to the refrigerator. He grabbed a plastic container of mayonnaise and proceeded to cover the rice with it. Safe. Now all he had to do was place the top on, and sneak downstairs to the woman's cell. As he was turning around, the vice commander was startled to find a familiar face behind him.

"Oh, Hijikata-San, are you packing a lunch?" Yamazaki smiled at him, but the man's nervousness spoke before he could choose an answer.
"No." He abruptly snapped, trying to conceal the bento behind his back. The spy in front of him frowned, and curiously moved to look around him.
"Then what's-"

Pointing the loaded mayonnaise directly in Yamazaki's face, Hijikata grabbed the man. The spy stared at the red top wide eyed, before flicking his gaze back to Hijikata.
"You've seen nothing." The vice commander stated in an alarmingly low tone. His sinister expression was enough to make Yamazaki gulp, and slowly nod. Jeeze, he was just trying to make conversation. Was it really necessary to threaten him with the mayonnaise?

Eying the spy, Hijikata released him, and turned back to the bento. He glared at Yamazaki over his shoulder as he placed the top back on the box, and shoved it into his pocket. The spy remained in place as Hijikata watched him, and returned the mayonnaise to the door of the refrigerator. Without another word the vice commander grabbed a pair of chopsticks, and left Yamazaki to stare after him.

How degrading. To be caught making bento like some schoolgirl. The idiot downstairs still needed to eat though.


When Hijikata arrived to the entrance of her cell, the woman was sitting by the bars. Her legs were extended in front of her, and one slightly bent. The woman had a single had on one of the bars beside her, and was dreamily staring into the hall. She glanced up at him, and offered a slight wave as he eyed her. Hijikata noted that she was wearing his coat, probably because of the cold air. Pulling the bento from his pocket, Hijikata knelt beside the bars. The woman pulled her legs under herself, and Hijikata noticed that she moved a bit easier. He didn't know how she did it, especially after the days she had spent in the chamber. The woman watched as he slid the box to her; placing a pair of chopsticks on top. Obvious surprise crossed her as she leaned up, and touched her hand to the other side of the bento. Though he couldn't see her expression, the eagerness of her motions revealed her thoughts.

The woman turned to peer up at him yet kept her eyes on the box. She unexpectedly smiled. It was a soft expression, yet wide enough to catch a glimpse of her teeth. Hijikata studied the woman as she pulled the box into her lap. His expression had become moderately blank, due to the unforeseen reaction she had shown him. The woman's hair hid her from his eyes as she pulled the top of the bento open. Though he didn't see it, all trace of excitement immediately drained from her face. Instead, she stared at the overly generous blob of mayonnaise, wondering if there was anything beneath it. Was this some form of torture as well? They were trying to make her gain weight and have a heart attack now? Feeling a touch of exasperation, she forced another smile, yet this one was uneasy. Hijikata didn't notice the worried raise of her eyebrows. She was smiling- she liked the mayonnaise.

Intensely watching her, the man pushed a cigarette between his lips, and leaned his elbows onto his knees. The woman hesitated, but she always did that; it was normal. She pressed her hands together, in a silent "ittadakimasu (let's eat, or thank you)" and soon lifted a bit of the food to her lips. Taking a bite, the woman shifted her gaze. Too much mayonnaise... She managed to choke it down, though. Hijikata continued to observe her, as if she was in some sort of a petting zoo.

"Is it good?" The man finally asked.
She turned to face him and placed her free hand to her lips as she smiled, and nodded. Mirroring her motion, Hijikata sat on the ground and shifted his position so he was sitting beside her despite the bars between them. The man leaned against the edge of the stone wall behind him, and sighed. Finally; somebody who appreciated good food. Lighting his cigarette, he glanced down the stone hall as she silently consumed her meal.

"Good. I didn't know if you had eaten." He didn't expect an answer. It was obvious that even if she wanted to talk the mayonnaise was too delicious. He only used the best brand. The woman continued to eat, knowing that this was probably the only meal she would be offered. She tried her hardest to pick around the mayonnaise, and even found rice buried underneath it. Hijikata bent one of his knees, and rested his elbow on it as he took a drag of his cigarette.

"It's only been a few days, but it seems like this case is taking forever. There's gotta be some way for you to communicate. I don't know if you did it, or if you had anything to do with it at all . As far as I'm concerned you could be telling the truth. But there's still over a hundred dead, and no answer as to why. Buildings don't just spontaneously combust, you know?" Sighing, Hijikata stared at the stone ceiling. His voice was low and cold; as if he had completely distanced himself from the situation, or it was a regular, everyday case. He wondered if she was even listening. It made no sense to even talk to her, but then again, she wouldn't interrupt.

"Everybody seems to be under pressure lately. Well, except Sougo. Even Kondo hasn't been his usual happy self. That man's flipped through some book full of pictures a hundred times; I even caught him sleeping in it." Snickering, the vice commander glanced at the woman. She was watching him intently. Definitely listening. The bento was nearly empty, and she placed her chopsticks on the lid; quickly averting her gaze.

"You still won't tell me your name?"
Skimming her eyes over the stone walls around her, the woman pressed her thumb to her forefinger, and made an odd motion. Frowning, Hijikata watched her; attempting to decipher the charade. She placed her hand on her lap, palm side up, and used her pointer finger to trace lines on it. The woman's eyes remained on her palm, and when she finally did glance towards him she tilted her head as if what she was implying was obvious.

Realization crossed Hijikata.

"A notepad and pen?" The words were met with an eager nod, and the man mirrored the motion. He should have thought of that sooner. Somebody has to have some sort of brain around the Shinsengumi. Curiosity crossed Hijikata as he reached into his coat, and pulled out a small book he used for notes as well as a black pen.

The moment she saw the tools, the woman cautiously reached for them. Her anxiousness was portrayed in her expression as Hijikata handed her the items. The woman wasted no time in finding an empty page and forming her words. When she finished, she handed the book to Hijikata, and he eyed it.
"My name is Kikuno Muzai. I'm twenty two, and I can't speak in public."

Glancing at the girl to his side, Hijikata nodded. "Why is that?"
Muzai placed a hand over the notepad, and pulled it from his hands before scribbling a response. Despite the hurried motion, her writing was neat, and feminine.
"Selective Mutism. I can speak perfectly, but not in uncomfortable places. Public places. I have to know somebody before I can talk to them."

Well, that wasn't somewhat confusing. Offering the book back to her, Hijikata knew this would be his best chance at getting an answer.
"We'll do the interrogation like this. Write your answers, and hold them up for me to read."

Muzai nodded, and placed the book in her lap.

"Were you associated with the fire? Did you start it, or help in any way?" Watching the woman write, Hijikata felt like he had finally accomplished something. This was ridiculously easy; why hadn't anybody thought of it before? She only wrote for a split second before holding the book up.
"No."
"Do you know who did?" Apparently, the answers weren't much different now. The woman underlined her answer as she held up the book and shook her head.
"Why were you covered in blood? Why did you have that knife?" Open-ended questions were the most important. She needed to give details; something more than a yes or no.

"I took it out of some girl's chest, she had been stabbed and I was scared."
Frowning, Hijikata pushed a cigarette to his lips. He stared at the girl, and raised an eyebrow as he brought his trusty mayo lighter to the stick. She hadn't answered the first question.

"The blood?" He repeated, holding the cigarette with his teeth, and her brows raised with worry. Pulling the book back, the girl frowned. It took a second before she started to write; hesitantly.
"A man found me, and started running towards me. I couldn't understand him because he was yelling, and I was scared-"
Staring at the long line at the end of the girl's words, Hijikata nodded. He sighed, and shifted his gaze. So she killed one man, but what happened to the rest? She had to do better than that.

"And how can I trust you? How do I know you didn't cause all of that, and murder everybody? Aren't you supposed to be crazy?" The man raised an eyebrow, studying the tilt of the woman's head. Muzai sighed loudly, and her lips slightly parted as if she was saying he didn't understand. Brown locks of hair fell to the side as she stared at him, and he held her gaze. Wow, she was looking at him. Eye contact achieved. But after a few intense seconds uneasiness took her. Lowering her eyes to the paper, she scribbled a few more words.

"Don't you cops do your homework? I checked myself in for counseling; help with my speech, and anxiety."
Hijikata reread the words a few times before shaking his head in disbelief. This was ridiculous. How the hell did that happen? If she was telling the truth, their guess was way off.

"You've got to know more about this. Do you know how many bodies were in that place? You expect me to believe you were covered in blood, and walking around a burning asylum, which was filled with corpses, because you were scared, and one man attacked you? Nothing more?"

The woman's brow furrowed, and she shifted her gaze. She continued to frown, staring at the iron bars between them, and obviously deep in thought. Eventually, she ran a hand though her hair, and tilted her head once more. Muzai carefully wrote a few more words and held up her paper, pointing at the sentence with the pen in her hand.

"If I don't know anything, how could I make myself seem innocent? If I can't speak, how can I defend myself?"

Considering her words, Hijikata nodded. She was right. If she truly was innocent, there would be no way for her to prove it. In the few days he had seen her, she didn't appear to be insane. But some people are good at hiding that sort of thing. Everybody knows that the moment you take your eyes off of a crazy person, they snap. One second they could be fine; drinking a cup of tea, or taking their dog for the walk; maybe even holding a conversation about politics. The next second, they're eating red dirt and screaming at the top of their lungs as their arm shakes with a violent, isolated seizure. Probably.

Muzai slid the notebook between the bars, and placed it in Hijikata's lap. She had left the page open to their conversation, and as he stared at her hand, she started to write again. Numbers, and dashes. He recognized the sequence. The weight of the woman's hand firmly pressed the book into his thigh, and she circled the numbers.
"Social security number. Date of birth."

Glancing at Muzai, Hijikata nodded. She slowly wrote another small line, and tapped the words with the end of her pen.
"Who are you?"
Muzai dropped the pen and retracted her hand, as Hijikata read the words. A second passed, and the man realized that he hadn't introduced himself at all. He had been more focused on the situation surrounding the woman, and finding information on her; not exchanging pleasantries
"Hijikata Toushirou." The man glanced at her as he spoke, and Muzai offered a single nod. She sighed as if she had grown bored, but was visibly relieved. For what, Hijikata was unsure, but it was clear in her posture. Muzai shifted her gaze, only to slide closer to the bars. When the man frowned at her, she gestured for him to move closer. He didn't understand. What was she trying to do? His confusion must have been apparent, because she reached through the bars, and gently turned his head with a single finger, while the other pulled him closer by his shoulder.

"I- I can whisper here..."
Warm breath met the man's ear and he felt his eyes widen. The words were barely audible. Though she was close, he still had to strain to hear her and it sounded as though she was just pushing air through her teeth. The sentence didn't flow as usual; she spoke slowly, and precisely. If anything, each word had been broken down into basic sounds and syllables, which only made sense when put together. Simply saying the word "I" came out as a small airy murmur; more like "Ah-ee". Shifting his gaze, Hijikata waited to hear more. There was no voice in her words, and the man wondered if she even had one to begin with. But that was a silly question, he had heard her before. Somewhat.
"Thank you for the bento."

Muzai leaned back, yet Hijikata remained in place. He seemed to be lost in thought. Shifting her gaze, the woman placed the top back on the small lunch box, being careful of the mayonnaise. At least she had been able to choke it down... Well, she mostly only ate the rice. A lot of the mayonnaise was left over, but that guy seemed happy when she ate it. When she glanced back up at Hijikata, she found him to be looking right at her. Immediately tense, Muzai picked up the bento, and placed it on the other side of the bars in front of him.

She lowered her head, and cautiously reached for the pen once more. When Hijikata didn't move, she grabbed it and turned the page of the notebook. Ignoring the man that was still watching her, Muzai turned the book and started to write again. It took a while this time, and Hijikata could tell she was dreadfully nervous. It was almost as if all of her muscles had stiffened. Muzai even appeared to be shaking, which cause him to wonder if speaking was truly that difficult. Once finished, she placed the pen in his lap, and gazed at the opposite wall of the cell. Just knowing that she had managed to actually speak made her tense. Had her voice sounded funny? As much as she wanted to talk, the thought of somebody hearing her caused adrenaline to surge through her veins. Her heart pounded within her chest, and the woman grew dizzy.

Hijikata glanced down at the notepad, and read the words.
"I can talk at home; to my father and my friend. If you can manage, I need to check on my father some time. I'm his caretaker, but Yuki has been filling in for me while I'm away. Bring me papers with your questions and a video camera; I'll tell you as much as I can, but I don't know what happened. Take me back to the interrogation room so I can speak... But I need to be alone... And promise to take me home. Even if I have to be monitored and come straight back."

After reading the words, Hijikata returned his gaze to Muzai. The woman was looking away from him, as if she couldn't bear any more. Nodding the man returned his notepad and pen to his coat.
"I'll see what I can do." Pushing himself to his feet, Hijikata straightened his clothes, and grabbed the bento. The vice commander slipped the box back into his pocket, and started down the hall.


A/N: Yay, her name has finally been revealed! Ahh, that took so long!

To the Guest reviewer, I laughed when I read "Reverse bed time story", that's a funny thought (In an awesome way), Stories to wake you up! Lol :D

Noniebee- Glad I can entertain you and Tara, lol. Often time, Selective Mutism is improperly diagnosed as Autism. You were very close, haha :) Though I will keep the caffeine and sedation in mind, people with SM are usually really bubbly and happy once they open up.

Al19- Sorry to make you anxious, haha. I was too, it took too long to reveal her name! Lol

As usual, thank you all for your reviews :3