Chapter Text
BREAKING NEWS!
A new gigantic Amanto fleet landed in the terminal, occupying all parking spaces, and is currently being under investigation.
It’s been four months since that headline came out. No other news were released about that topic even though it was all the buzz in Edo and potential arc starter—
Like I care.
A faint buzz in the background was a constant reminder of the place he was in. The smell of sanitary gloves and equipment was adding on to the dull ache in his head. He glanced down to his right, and sighed. The bed was occupied, fluorescent green covers blinding the normal beholder. Why would they use such an atrocious shade if their aim is to heal and comfort? What a waste of tax money. Gintoki huffed, before moving his gaze to the oxygen mask, getting foggy for two seconds, and fading to clear for three. The chest movement in front of him was faint, but being a war veteran, Gintoki was able to detect it however minute. Long hair fanned around the occupant’s face, like an angel’s halo, adding to the uncharacteristically peaceful image he held.
“I’m not leaving until I clean your mess up,” the sleeping man had said. Gintoki scoffed, and looked away, shoulders drawn together as he stared at the heart monitor. It was very faint, like the first time he heard it. For six months, there was not a single change. What a bastard, Gintoki thought bitterly, leaving me alone to mourn just because you wanted to stick to your assigned role.
The terminal collapse was, more than anything, an economic tragedy to Edo. It was only the second time it happened just after it started recovering from the first near-world-end experience. Then boom, destroyed again. He looked out at the world around him from the window. Even from the second floor, he could see more than he wanted to. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings made their way back to Edo as if they never left, making him think that the second near end of the world was merely an illusion. He felt around the for the scars on his forearm, then looked down at the man on the bed. No, it was real, alright.
Zura hated flattery. Gintoki was surprised that he managed to suck up to being called a prodigy by Shoyou and get himself into such a state. Then again, Zura never saw Shoyou until that day, not even when they beat Utsuro the first time; he and Tatsuma were out in space. It must have been overwhelming to listen and see his face, knowing that he would lose him again. Gintoki sure knew he felt that way—but still, why put himself in the collapsing room? Why wait?
Did he have hope that Shoyou would…?
He remembered panicking when the medics evacuating the ruins announced that they couldn’t find his body. Body, when they used it in referring to Zura, all colour drained from his face. Gintoki was already walking out from the ruins carrying Takasugi’s body, not needing another one to add… The medics were surprised because normally, no ordinary human could survive a wreckage this big. Actually, even if they did survive, no ordinary human would stay long enough and expect not to be crushed to death. In a horrified daze, Gintoki frantically filed through the debris himself, cursing and yelling at everyone who tried to stop him. Overcome with the sense of paranoia at the possibility of losing yet another friend, the only tie he had to his past, he was sent to a state of delirium. Zura couldn’t die, Zura had to be alive. There was no way he didn’t pull a last minute escape out of his ass. That’s the reason he gained his alias, for goodness sake!
And you could only imagine Gintoki’s jubilance upon finding him. A medic called for help, helping Gintoki and pulling Zura from under tons of wreckage. He knew he was still breathing, and it was probably the only sort of relief he had—until he knew Zura would be staying comatose for a very long time.
Being an honorary hero, who helped save the world for a second time, the hospital only deemed it appropriate to keep and treat Zura as a permanent resident. In other words, they feared pulling the plug; the publicity would be bad. Not to mention Gintoki, who was sure the look he gave them was enough to plant fear of ever going near the plug. Gintoki knew that type of people well. But as long as it kept Zura alive, he couldn’t give two shits about their intentions.
He fiddled with his thumbs nervously, a habit he recently developed when he faced difficulty speaking.
“Zura, it’s your birthday, today.”
It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura!
Nope, none of that today, either. Gintoki was starting to get a little sick of it. It’s been six months full of silence and no back-n-forth’s. He was starting to miss his silly voice and the very annoying demeanor he used to carry himself. He missed his annoying conversation starters that actually carried some sense but as the talk would go on he would start sounding like a five year-old discovering words (to others, the analogy didn’t make sense, but because Gintoki knew Zura well, it suited him very much). He missed the way he laughed when telling a really bad joke that only Tatsuma would find funny. He missed arguing with him about right and wrong, he missed their scuffles, rounds of kick the can that he always won—
However, there are things he didn’t really miss. Gintoki didn’t know why he was thinking about this, right now, but might as well list them out for the heck of it.
He didn’t miss Katsura’s obnoxiously loud voice that attracted onlookers everywhere. He didn’t miss drinking with him—he was always a bad drunk and would pass out after a couple of shots because then Gintoki would have to be the responsible one, and he hated that so much (how ironic). He didn’t miss when he would rat him and Takasugi out to Shoyou, and would receive a head pat for it. He didn’t miss the look on his face whenever they lost a comrade to an Amanto’s blade. He didn’t miss arguing with him about things that didn’t matter, to the point that drove them away from each other.
He didn’t miss not having him around. He regretted every moment he’d tried to cut himself off from him, including now.
“So you’re thirty now, huh?”
His face was flawlessly smooth. But despite this, in his current state, he looked much older than he actually was.
Zura was sickly pale. Even more sickly than an old man. Every time the nurse would come to clean him up and brush his hair, huge tufts would fall out as she traced the locks with her hands. His cheeks were hollow, and darkened by the protruding bones that made him look like a broken doll. His veins were popping out, stark blue against his skin and he was getting thinner by the day. The solvent intakes weren’t doing much to help him keep going healthily. There were dark circles under his eyes—Gintoki didn’t even know why, he was probably having the best sleep in his life right now, dreaming about being minister and thriving in a rap career or whatnot…
His hands were folded neatly above his chest. A passerby would think he was a mystical prince awaiting death by ailment, a drawing so majestic they would stare.
“So, just for today, I’m gonna call you Katsura.”
That was a lie. He knew in a second he’d drop it because Katsura had one too many syllables and he wasn’t in the mood to exploit his tongue today. He did all the talking in his head, and surprisingly, the little Gintoki in his mind was a good listener. He swallowed thickly, clenching his fists and crunching the paper he held. It was nothing special; a get-well-soon card made by the kids—well, just Shinpachi. Kagura only wrote a few words that included “pickled seaweed” and “being a sore loser at UNO” and that she’d let him win if he woke up. Shinpachi wrote something similar, but more polite. He couldn’t exactly remember. He read it out loud to Zura anyway, hoping he’d hear something.
He was told by the nurses that he could, but even that didn’t get Gintoki’s hopes up.
Because Katsura was slowly deteriorating before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it but stare and hope for the impossible. It angered him, knowing he was useless yet again.
Why can’t I save anyone any more? Was it because he got used to the peace? Was it because his over-confidence in Zura’s durability that he temporarily forgot that he, also, was a regular human with bones that broke with sticks and stones? Was it because Gintoki briefly overlooked the fact that Zura was alone in the monitor room when he contacted them? Why didn’t he tell the kids to go for him? Why did he let them help with Shoyou when he was going to be gone anyway? Why didn’t he tell them to help—?
Drip.
“Look what you did to me, bastard,” he sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He exhaled deeply through his mouth, giving Katsura’s sleeping face a long look; forlorn, longing, aching. He smiled, eyes burning. “Next time I visit, you better be awake. I’m sick of waiting.”
I’m sick of being alone.
On the way back, Gintoki was taking his regular posture; arm tucked in the folds of his yukata, other hand picking his nose, eyes roaming with disinterest around the potential places where he could spend his time this evening. Pachinko and drinking were out of question; Hasegawa was not in town to help him home if he got drunk—since apparently, he didn’t like to drink as much as Gintoki does (anymore). Grocery shopping was also not ideal; he had bags of rice waiting to be cooked with dozens of eggs. Never mind that this was what he ate on the daily; he couldn’t bother looking for a place to stash new groceries. So what if he ate the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?
Those who share the meal weren’t there to do so enthusiastically any more.
Happily-ever-afters be damned, Gintoki thought. He flicked away the booger as he walked past a TV shop, broadcasting some important news that it got people lining up to watch. He didn’t hear much from the crowd, only the words “Imperial Guard” and “treason”.
Oh yes, the new addition to Edo’s big family, the Imperial Guard.
They were human-like Amanto, coming from a small planet. They looked the same way Kagura did. They crowded the terminal so that no other Amanto ships could land, they slowly integrated themselves into society, and soon with the government. The small planet of theirs was a whole empire, and with that integration, Gintoki wasn’t stupid enough to not realize that Earth was now also part of their empire. It wasn’t exactly colonization yet, they haven’t shown any reason to despise them. They, in fact, helped rebuild Edo and all the other countries to their former glory, so really, the reasons why buildings reached the skies and many families found a home was 70% thanks to them. So, Gintoki pitied whoever betrayed the Imperial Guard and their ruler. The news had been going on for almost two weeks now. He hoped they would deal with the traitor quickly to not disrupt the peace. The peace he and his friends made happen.
They were patrolling all over Edo now, their presence like an ear-worm, and it was a little disturbing considering they were the only police force doing it. It was odd not seeing black uniforms around Kabuki-chou… he wondered what happened. Were they transferred elsewhere?
He made it to the Yorozuya HQ eventually, pausing briefly to check if the old hag and the cat were still awake. Nope, the bar was closed for the evening… did he come back early? They usually opened at night so that must be it. He felt like he rarely saw anyone these days. Even the kids, they were staying at Tae’s now, with Kagura needing more space as a growing teenager and Shinpachi—well, he never liked staying the nights with them anyway.
Opening the Yorozuya office to find it empty made his heart sink.
Usually by this hour, he’d be back from pachinko with Hasegawa, tripping over their feet and laughing because one of them or both threw up twice at the same lamp post. Kagura would throw a tantrum, telling him that if he threw up again, she won’t clean it up. Shinpachi would calm her down and clean up the mess himself, when Gintoki did throw up.
Now he just padded barefoot on the floor, a light echo produced on the parquet with each step. The closet door where Kagura usually slept was open. Empty. The lights in the office were turned off, and the shades were pulled shut. Usually it was Shinpachi drawing them open to blind Gintoki first thing in the morning. Now it was him who had to blind himself. There was no dog bowl by the door to his room. Only a barren living space, just for him.
Of all things, Gintoki hated missing people. And now, he was missing three—no, four. Sadaharu was still trapped in that marble.
Dammit…
That night, he shouldn’t have felt so down. He knew Kagura and Shinpachi would spend the day tomorrow at the office for work. He knew Hasegawa would visit from his new job that somehow took him out of town (sometimes for days). He knew he’d hear gran and her pet knocking on the door, escorting in baby Tama to threaten to destroy his Ketsuno Ana shrine. All of these things would happen, and nothing would change. He would never always feel isolated, while everyone else wouldn’t.
But he couldn’t help it. He sighed, dropping down on the couch, and letting his legs up on the coffee table.
It was dusty.
He hated that he’s sober, hated that he had no drinking buddy—Hasegawa was out of town, Tatsuma was MIA now that he was saved from that cryptocurrency addiction thing by Mutsu (even though she claimed she didn’t care), and there was also… that guy… Ogushi-kun, was it? He wondered where he and all the other men in black were… it was still strange with them not being around.
Whatever, if he slept it off, tomorrow he would feel better, just like always.
Sober, but better.
“Gin-san, since we spent so many years together, may I propose the concept of having a proper breakfast?”
Gintoki groaned. He only managed just sit on the table, and Shinpachi managed to blurt out the most annoying question of the day. What was wrong with eggs sunny side up, omelettes, deviled, scrambled, half-boiled, boiled, and the like? It was protein! It was healthy! He had it everyday! That was why he put on the muscle, why he was jacked! He felt like indulging the kid though, and only cut his eggs without the witty retort he thought up.
“What type of breakfast do you suggest then?” his voice was distant, disinterested. He knew they noticed.
“Pancakes, toast…” Shinpachi started listing as he took his own share of boiled eggs, and started cracking it with a knife. He wasn’t looking at Gintoki. “Cereal, those are sweet. You like sweet stuff.” I do. “Orange juice, good for that gut problem of yours…” Oi! “Maybe also—”
“I get it, I’m piss poor and can’t take good money decisions.” Gintoki didn’t know why he was suddenly frowning, cutting hard at his sunny side up eggs. He scratched the plate hard. Shinpachi and Kagura were definitely giving each other that look from above his head, thinking they were unseen.
It was just… Gintoki didn’t cope well with change.
You’d think him being an ex-warrior, ex-rebel and all that would make him used to change but on the contrary. Every time someone changed the Jump! display location, he would weep until the manager guided him with a hand on his back to the right aisle. Every time he didn’t see a familiar face on the street when they should be made him feel like tearing his hair from his scalp—because why isn’t his special Uji Rice Bowl™️ made by the regular granny chef!? Where is Granny!! Every time he laid eyes on the new buildings, the new weather lady, and the Imperial Guard, he wanted to smash his fist in the wall. Every time he looked at Katsura’s face, he wanted to tie one of the tubes around his own neck to end his misery.
Shinpachi and Kagura moving gradually further and further away from him was his last straw.
He hated how he was locked in a frame, while everyone else’s tape moved forward.
“Gin-chan…” Kagura called, making him grunt. “Um…”
Now they’re walking on eggshells, fucking fantastic. He had to ruin this too, didn’t he? This was just—
“How was Zura?”
His eyes shot up at Kagura, gazing at her from beneath his lashes with his eyebrows raised inquisitively. He chewed slowly, thinking of what to say.
How was Zura? Well, Zura has still shown no signs of consciousness, and no sign that he could hear Gintoki speaking despite what the nurses said. He was looking worse and worse by the minute that Gintoki feared he could die while he wasn’t there. He was scared he would hold his hand and it would turn to ashes before him. He was scared Zura would never have a chance to heal, see the amazing world he helped build.
“He’s… doing better.”
“Gin-san.” his eyes turned to Shinpachi next, with that look, heavens. He clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply. He hated this, he hated this so much.
“He’s declining.” There. He said it. Out loud, in front of them. He had enough pestering for six months; although he doubted it was just them trying to spark up a conversation. He put his utensils down and got up, a little more frustrated than usual. “Happy?”
“Of course not!” Shinpachi stood next, eyebrows drawing together in concern. “We were just—”
“I know what you were trying to do,” Gintoki took his plate from the table, scooped the unfinished egg into Kagura’s bowl before throwing his plate into the sink. He rubbed his palms together, deliberately looking away from the two teenagers. “Don’t.”
“This isn’t healthy, Gin-san…”
He was not having this conversation with them. He was not going to, not in a million years. He would never allow himself to be vulnerable in front of them, in front of the two children who saw him as a rock, an anchor, a role model. He couldn’t expose anything and tarnish that image of his to them. Never. Even though they grew almost as tall as he was, even though they were strong enough to handle whatever emotional hurdle was coming their way—stronger than him. He couldn’t do it.
He tuned Shinpachi speaking out as much as possible. He tried opening the sink at its highest setting, washing the dishes twice and the sink itself thrice, but the boy was still talking.
Kagura said something, he couldn’t listen. He turned the blender on.
“For goodness sake!”
Shinpachi slammed his hand on the counter next to Gintoki. Kagura stood on his other side. He was trapped between them, and even though both of them were shorter than him, even if they grew, it was a little intimidating. Both of them were glaring. He didn’t know they could do that.
“Gin-san,” Shinpachi started calmly, though his face betrayed his anger. He turned the blender off. “Please.”
“We know you’re not fine, how are we supposed to just stand there and watch you get torn apart, huh?” Kagura interjected. Huh, maybe the Japanese he taught her was paying off after all, she sounded like a local.
But… they were right.
He couldn’t say anything back. All he did was stare at the soapy dishes. The sink was still on. He turned it off. His hands were full of soap, his fingers were getting wrinkly. They were both breathing down his neck. It felt… suffocating.
He stepped back, even though he wanted to tell them to stop pressuring him, he couldn’t get anything out. His fists were clenched, his chest was rapidly rising and falling. Shit, shit, shit! He tried to think of a solution, a distraction. Anything. Anything—!
He walked backwards towards the living room, opting to turn the TV on. The news channel was a distraction, yes. The new weather girl wasn’t as hot as Ketsuno Ana but she did the work just fine. Just as he was about to turn to face the TV, he got sucker punched by a rather angry duo—he was surprised Kagura didn’t use her full strength this time. He only stumbled back from the impact, feeling his lip, and looking down at his hand… it was bloody.
“Why is it, every time we try to talk to you, you do things like this…?” Shinpachi was standing, blocking the vision towards the TV, fists clenched by his side. His bangs covered his eyes. Kagura stood in a similar position, but it wasn’t before long till her mouth turned down to a frown.
“We know we aren’t… ever going to replace your friends, Gin-chan,” she said, moving her gaze up to his face, and fuck, was she about to cry? Why are her eyes wobbling? No, this wasn’t supposed to happen— “We know we’ll never… have that spot in your heart.”
Because you’re more precious to me.
“But we’ll always want to help,” Shinpachi took over now, directing his eyes to Gintoki as well. He stood tense, tall, and determined. Kagura didn’t end up crying, but he knew she was close to. “We’ll always want to be by your side, even if you think otherwise.”
Holy shit, they know! Gintoki gritted his teeth. He couldn’t control his face when it contorted to something so ugly it alerted them. The news channel was now a muffled background noise, no one paid attention. He shook his head repeatedly trying to shake out all the harmful thoughts that started rooting themselves in his brain. How obvious was he? Was he always this outwardly clingy? He thought he masked his emotions so well, but even then, they found out he depended on them as much as they did him. He cursed.
They were silent. They were waiting for an answer.
He wanted to give them one, I swear I want to, but I can’t. It was always like this, his fear of their perception being the one thing to block him. It was why he regretted not talking to Shoyou as much as he would have liked, to tell him about everything he faced, every little emotion he felt, how change wasn’t his thing… would he have gone easily with the Naraku to protect the students if Gintoki told him he would have loved it if he stayed?
“I—”
Knock knock!
Shinpachi gave him his other look, the one that said temporarily saved. He turned his back to open the door, leaving Gintoki with Kagura. The TV still blared in the background, the hosts’ voices were starting to get a little loud. They crossed their arms and faced each other, Gintoki with a daring frown, but Kagura only looked disappointed.
“… for the betrayal to the Imperial Guard…”
“Gin-chan, when I said you were my Earth dad, I meant it.” He sighed. He knew that. “Papi already never said anything to me and I don’t see him any more, so don’t be that way, please.”
“I—”
“… the punishment decided by the government is unknown as of now…”
“I just can’t…” he struggled with the words, moving his hands around in a poor attempt to explain. Kagura stared at him, patient, yet observing for any hint that could make her understand him. He exhaled sharply when he couldn’t get his point across with words. He hated the way she looked at him and hated the how helpless he felt at that moment.
She sighed, “Listen, Gin-chan…”
“Gin-san!!”
They both whipped their heads towards Shinpachi at the door upon hearing his voice. Gintoki knew that tone; it wasn’t calling that name in frustration or happiness. Shinpachi was panicking, for some reason, and after everything that happened, you couldn’t really blame Gintoki for being on high alert. He practically ran towards the door first, Kagura hot on his tail, and gripped the frame tightly as he made it out to the sunny porch. “Patsuan, what happen—?”
Everyone paused.
The ghastly stench of blood was all too familiar to Gintoki that he didn’t even blink when he took it in. Kagura on the other hand froze upon laying her eyes in the sight, eyes wide and nostrils flaring.
“Hurry! Bring the first aid kit!”
Right, first aid. For the dying man in front of them.
For a man full of bullet holes, Okita Sougo had the gall to laugh. Shinpachi had his chest propped up, from where they were both sitting on the floor. The younger teenager was kneeling, with his back to the handrail. He had Okita’s head on his chest, while helping keep a pressure on a very deep wound on his side. From the looks of things, the captain knocked and dropped to the floor. Gintoki could only stare as Kagura ran back inside to get the first aid kit they kept in the kitchen. The bullet holes extended from his abdomen to the shoulder covered by Shinpachi’s body. His head was also dripping and his foot lead a trail up the stairs.
How smart, leading whoever tried to shoot you here, Gintoki thought. He wanted to berate the man for being so reckless, but knew something else was up. It was surprising how someone managed to bring him into such a state that he’d go to them for help. He wanted to ask what happened, wanted to know who did it, wanted to see Kagura go by the treatment a little faster. Impatient, he nudged her with his shoulder, and took the gauze instead.
“What happened, Okita-san!?” Shinpachi asked, shaking the older as his eyes started drifting close. “Oi!”
A breathy sound escaped the captain’s mouth; he was giggling. Gintoki tried not to pause at how feeble he sounded, and treated the wound near his collarbone, dabbing it with alcohol. War flashbacks, you’re not fucking funny right now. Just how many close calls did he escape? How did this happen?
“Usually…” the captain spoke, eyes drifting towards Gintoki. “Civilians… are the ones… begging the police for help.”
At that, Gintoki froze, and all three stared at Okita, faces morphed into ones of shock.
Help? Help with what? Sure, the nearly fatal wounds on his body, but before that, he was already heading towards them for help? And how could he expect them to aid him if he could barely even speak? Okita’s voice was muffled, strained, and hoarse. Every syllable seemed to drain energy from him, and his head started lolling to the side as he finished speaking. Shinpachi adjusted his arm so that he lifted Okita’s neck up, propping it so he could breathe. Although at this rate, the captain seemed uninterested in that.
“They’re… all… gone… and—” There’s no one left but me.
Gintoki’s heart felt like falling out of his ribcage and on the floor. His breaths hitched at the look on the younger’s face. His eyes were empty as he gazed at Gintoki, smile so small and… surrendered.
Gintoki shivered at the deja vu he was currently experiencing.
“Kondou-san… Yamazaki… Shimaru-niisan…” he started listing other names. Gintoki didn’t notice he stopped treating the wounds on him until he heard the equipment drop on the floor. What does this mean? What did he mean “gone”? Everyone stayed where they were, unmoving as Okita scoffed, but that made him scrunch his face in pain. “Only that… that bastard is left. Of all the people… left alive… I want a do-over.”
This doesn’t make any sense, Gintoki stared, and started shaking his head. This guy… this guy is the strongest swordsman in that darn police force and he’s here now… bleeding out. This kit can’t help, he needs to go to a hospital!
Shinpachi read his mind, and soon he relayed how dangerous the wounds were, and that they needed to treat it with a professional doctor at the hospital.
However, just as they were about to get up, Okita’s hand shot to grab Shinpachi’s wrist quickly. Everyone looked back down; and just for this moment, Okita’s face was full blown of life as his face was covered in terror. Gintoki didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Kagura was some ways behind him, and even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was trying to back away from them. She wanted to get that stubborn chihuahua an ambulance; he felt the urgency radiating from her insides.
“Don’t.” he hissed. Shinpachi remained seated where he was on the floor. But Okita’s eyes were on Gintoki. “No one will…” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he wanted to glance around him.
Something was off.
There had to be a dozen more people than usual. Gintoki didn’t feel under watch like this since he was forced to make a choice one fateful evening. He knew the feeling of having a pair of eyes feeling like a thousand ones on him pretty well. He clenched his fists; as expected, Okita lead whoever tried to kill him here. Unintentionally or not, that made him furious. They’re here, whoever they are. They’re here to finish the job.
And I’ll be damned if I’ll let someone else die while I stand and watch.
The captain whispered something Gintoki didn’t catch, the perm didn’t dare raise his head to see the offenders. He could spy their silhouettes from the corner of his eyes. Things were pointed at the porch, and all they had in defense were two wooden swords and an empty Yato stomach striving to release her anger at not being fed. Even though these three weapons won together against all odds, yet something was amiss. Gintoki… felt like fighting to save Okita had a slim to none chance of success.
“It’s over already…?” Okita asked, eyes still not moving from Gintoki. The latter could only relate that gaze to some child he had met before, uttering his dying breath before thrusting his heart to Gintoki while keeping eye contact. They ironically had the same features; light hair, pointed chin, youthful red eyes. The last thing he said to him was— “I’m entrusting this to you… danna… If you see that… that bastard, Hijikata… tell him I—”
BANG!
The sound of the gun firing was like a pin drop, having everyone stunned into silence. Gintoki almost threw up at what transpired:
The shot came from behind him—more specifically from behind the open handrail. It was a little terrifying how easily it got to Okita’s head, throwing the captain on the ground from the impact. What was more disturbing was that the bullet took Shinpachi’s shoulder as a little tunnel to pass through, lurching the teen forward and on his hands, stopping himself from falling on top of Okita.
The thing that made Gintoki gag in horror though, was that Okita’s eyes stayed on him the entire time.
The air around him felt suffocating. Gintoki, for a moment, couldn’t breathe. It has been more than six months since he last heard a gunshot. It somehow made him a little more afraid than he normally would be, paralyzed by it happening… an anomaly in the middle of an era of peace.
There was too much to process; Kagura’s yelp of shock, the many footsteps coming towards them and coming at a halt at the bottom of the staircase, the spreading of the dark red beneath the captain’s body, and Shinpachi bleeding and barely holding himself up as he stared wide-eyed at Okita—
“Oh I’m so sorry,” the footsteps started moving again. Gintoki’s eyes moved lightning fast to the sound of the source, and then froze upon seeing the new presence. “I thought you were an accomplice to that traitor.”
What!? Gintoki was probably the only one coherent enough to try and gather his thoughts together. They were the ones who…? Traitor?
“What do you mean traitor!?” that was Kagura, why was she so loud? Maybe he wasn’t the only coherent one. She was standing tall on top of the stairs, fists clenched by her sides and face red. She turned to the men on the bottom, and hissed. “He didn’t do anything wrong!” Gintoki wanted to agree wholeheartedly, but the words failed him and wouldn’t leave his mouth. Her voice was angry and bubbling with something else—heartbreak? Shock? Gintoki knew he felt that, but with Kagura he could barely even tell whenever she wanted something besides food.
“Miss,” the one who spoke earlier said, taking a step forward, and managed one stair before Gintoki grabbed the handle of his bokuto instinctively. The action felt foreign; it’s been a long time since he did that. He never thought it would actually happen so soon. He examined the head of the group downstairs with narrowed eyes. The Imperial Guard uniform was unmistakable, off white capes covering a modern bodysuit with the same colour, with a layer of a silver autumn coat. But why were they here!? Why did they shoot Okita? Where did all these people come from and why are they staring!? Why the hell are there photographers— “Didn’t you watch the news for the past two weeks?”
Kagura didn’t answer, but Gintoki knew none of them actually cared enough to do it. It seemed the head of the group below understood. He gave a small, mocking smile while looking down, before tilting his head up. Even though they all stood on a higher level, Gintoki felt like that man was looking down on them somehow.
“My name is Syda, the head of the Imperial Guard,” he introduced loudly. Probably for the masses that gathered around them at the sound of a gunshot. Gintoki could spy Gran, Catherin, and baby Tama looking up at them, bewildered. “And I am here to punish Okita Sougo and the Shinsengumi for their acts of betrayal towards our organization.”
A moment of silence, encasing the trio alive. Gintoki knew Shinpachi didn’t move at all, but he couldn’t stop to look back right now and make sure he was alright. Somehow, this Imperial Guard matter felt a little more dangerous at the moment.
“Betrayal?” he found himself asking, voice low. They couldn’t be serious. “Shinsengumi? That’s impossible!! Why would they—?”
“Well, Mr…” Syda looked up at the sign briefly, before his eyes fell on Gintoki again. “Gin-chan, that matter is confidential. However, I assure that you, a law-abiding citizen, should not bother with such matters. As we have come to find out, the punishment for betraying the government on Earth has always been death, no? Not to worry, it has been taken care of.” He was coming up the stairs now, hands behind his back. None of his other comrades were following. Gintoki didn’t know what he would do if they did. He didn’t quite trust himself at the moment, fury nearly blinding him.
Syda passed Kagura, and was now eye-to-eye with the silver-haired man, smile never leaving his face. Gintoki wanted to punch it, and could barely stop himself as he held out one hand towards him. Gintoki glanced down at it; a roll of gauze.
“We apologize for hurting your friend,” the lack of sincerity in that man’s voice was astonishing. Gintoki could only inwardly scoff at the audacity of these people. “Our only concern was to take out these traitors before they hurt Edo, and I’m sure you of all people, Shiroyasha, would be the last person to want such a thing. You have lost the most out of us, after all.”
Gintoki clenched his fists. Are you threatening me?
When he didn’t take the roll of gauze, Syda turned to Kagura, and she took it from him, glare still decorating her face like an unmoving rock. Gintoki wasn’t even sure he would want to stop her if she lunged at Syda. He himself wasn’t sure if he was able to stop himself. The man in question returned his hand behind his back, turning to face Gintoki once more.
“Rest assured, the threat to Edo will be dealt with.” Syda then bowed, before spinning away, to descend the stairs. “And since it seemed you had no clue about your old friend’s wrongdoings, we will have mercy and allow him a proper burial.”
As the Imperial Guard left, and the people dispersed at the sound of Otose’s yelling, Gintoki kept staring at the spot where the guards were, knuckles white as he kept gripping his bokuto.
This is wrong, he felt his shoulders shake, and chest stuttering. This is wrong. Okita… he looked back, the captain’s eyes were still blown wide, zeroing in on him, but not seeing a thing. His skin was already pale now, the blood was slowly drying, painting the locks of his golden hair dark red. Gintoki didn’t notice until now that he wasn’t wearing the Shinsengumi uniform, even after he made that fuss and drama about never taking it off…
He felt Kagura move behind him, saying something he couldn’t quite hear. His heart was loud against his ears as he saw her kneeling. Then his eyes trailed over her extended arm, and—
Holy shit, Shinpachi is bleeding!
“Shinpachi!” be it from getting used to seeing bodies in the past or the fact that he actually cared too much about the fact that the bullet could have pierced something else and take Shinpachi away from him, Gintoki was surprised how easily he moved on from Okita. He kneeled on the captain’s other side, before taking Shinpachi’s arms to support him up. Upon inspection, Gintoki was glad to see an exit wound. That should could only be made by some professional, otherwise it would not get both Shinpachi and Okita. He knew gauze and alcohol wouldn’t really do it; they had to take him to the hospital.
Foolishly, Gintoki hoped that the bill would be the biggest of his problems.