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rainsometimesTitle: Human Beings Are Simple Creatures
Chapters: 5/5
Rating: G (maybe T/PG13 for language)
Word Count: Around 4300 in this final chapter
Characters/Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Spoilers/Setting: This chapter spoils the Battle of Rakuyo arc, the Silver Soul arc, and the final arc right up through the last manga chapter.
Summary: See Chapter 1.
Continued from Chapter 4.
On the open plain under the grey sky of another planet they stood, surrounded by enemies. There were tremors in the ground, the battle noises dark, low; high, sharp. Chemical scents filled the air, with an undertone of sweat and blood; in their mouths was a taste of metal-danger-exhilaration.
And also: a vibration that, while still a little bit careful, a little bit cautious, not wishing to hope for too much, nevertheless crackled with words unspoken and something like relief.
They faced every cardinal direction, back to back, each holding a weapon: a bokuto, a gun, a regular katana, and a shikomizue katana.
A few surface-proud and tetchy remarks on one side, edgy stand-offishness on the other, and a valiant attempt at mediation in the middle, all to lighten the mood. Thank heavens, as always, for Tatsuma Sakamoto.
Their allies were on the move, fighting hard to catch up with them – but they were the vanguard, and they knew it was up to them to go on the offensive. Like how it was supposed to be.
Together, they raised their weapons, and charged.
It was seven days after the end of the great battles, after the Altana Liberation Front had been defeated, the Altana eruptions had ceased, tamed and settled, and even Utsuro had been finally taken down, at enormous cost and effort. The Amanto mothership had still crashed down, but slowed-down enough that the resulting devastation was much more local and less ultimately catastrophic than what could have been. The wounded had been taken care of, the dead were buried, and ships at sea and in the air had started to go back and forth, transporting nutritions and people.
And Gintoki was walking away from his home.
Kagura was leaving Earth with what was left of Sadaharu on her own mission. Shinpachi stayed behind to take care of Edo. Who knew when they’d be seeing each other again?
A pessimistic voice at the back of Gintoki’s head whispered, maybe never - but he didn’t truly believe in it. Not after all that had happened. Still, he had to go on doing what only he could do. If he’d stayed here for longer, postponing and procrastinating, it would only get harder to leave.
He hadn’t been walking for all that long through the city, using various detours around all the ruins and rubble, when he saw a familiar figure perched on the crumbled wall of a ruin, as if he’d been waiting for him. And he probably had.
“You’re leaving.”
He stopped, looking at the other from underneath his new traveller’s hat. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I have things to do.”
“Away from Edo.” Zura was drumming his fingers on the brick wall, looking thoughtful. “Are you… Is it the dragon’s veins? The outlets of Altana?”
Gintoki felt his face grow more closed. “You know it is,” he said roughly. “That man… He kept coming back, before. I might be wrong… but I need to look.”
“Even if it takes a long time.”
“Even then.” Gintoki picked his ear. “You’re not leaving.”
Zura shook his head. “No. I need to be here and help with the rebuilding.”
Gintoki looked upwards, to a sky that was mostly overcast, where a half-hidden sun shone weakly through a thin sheet of whiteness. “Figured that,” he said easily. “Gonna call in some political favours, right?” He took off his hat to scratch his head, then put it on again, not used to the weight yet.
“I’m not denying that,” said Zura, though he did frown a little, putting his arms in his sleeves. “I’m going to do what it takes in order to remake this country. Not rebuild it to just how it was. To something better.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll do your wheeling and dealing.” Gintoki put in a bored tone as a comfortable cover. He figured it couldn’t be an easy road ahead of Zura. But in the end, if anyone could do it, it was him, wasn’t it? “Have fun with it,” he finally said.
“There’s one more thing, Gintoki,” Zura said, urgency in his voice as if Gintoki had already started walking away. “Takasugi.”
Gintoki raised his head questioningly. “Mmh?”
“He survived the crash too, you know,” Zura said quietly. “He left the ship without a word, but he’s been seen since. I was worried since he was wounded, but the report said he was moving just fine and looked good.”
“Oh.” After a moment, Gintoki rallied, “Of course he survived it. Bastard’s too tough to go down that easy.”
“It was one of my men who saw him, entirely by accident. It was none of my trained spies, but even if it had been, I’m sure Takasugi would still have spotted him… Anyway, he gave the man a message to pass on to me.” Zura paused, and when Gintoki said nothing, he continued, putting some of Takasugi’s diction in his voice, “’Tell him I have no intention of lifting a finger for this rotten country.’”
A smile tugged at Gintoki’s lips. “That’s him all right.”
Zura brought out a folded piece of paper from inside his sleeve. “He also passed on this note.”
He handed it over, and Gintoki read, ‘I may be in touch. Or not. Go to the top so I can bring you down.’
Gintoki peered at Zura and gave him the note back. “Definitely him. Are you worried?”
Zura put the note back into his sleeve, and now he was smiling, too. “Please,” he said. “Like I couldn’t take him.”
A silent moment. Far away, a woman was sobbing loudly. A large vehicle passed on the next street over, rumbling slowly no doubt to avoid crashing into rubble.
It felt like a small vibration passed between them. Not intensely, but there all the same.
Gintoki drew breath. “Zura-” he started.
“I wonder what salacious adventures you’ll be up to away from me,” said Zura brightly.
Gintoki gave him a flat look. “If you think you’re being funny and cool now, just stop. Please stop. Forever.”
“All those pretty village girls. You’d better remember to bring condoms.” Zura patted Gintoki on the shoulder – but Gintoki countered with a kind of one-armed hug that was almost a headlock and which nearly made Zura tumble down from his perch on the rubble.
“Stop trying to be a twinkly-eyed uncle or a discount Tatsuma,” he grumbled. “That doesn’t suit you.”
But – there was something about Zura’s wording that would have alarmed him not all that long ago and didn’t, now. ‘Away from me.’ Not staking a full claim, but still setting up markers, as it were. Jokingly, but… he’d never done that before.
Gintoki found it strange to realize he didn’t dislike that.
Zura was wordless for a moment, but then rallied. “Ho ho ho! Sounds like you’re shy, Gintoki!” he sputtered obnoxiously, not getting that much air in his position.
“Idiot.” Gintoki let go and gave him a smack on the head. “And it’s not ‘ho ho ho’, it’s ‘ahahaha’.”
Zura kicked him on the shin. “Ow!” protested Gintoki. “Why do you always go there? Bastard!”
Then he picked up his fallen hat and tied the strap under his chin. “Anyway,” he said drily, feeling more cheered up now, “go romance all the widows you want, then. Idiot wig.” He ruffled Zura’s hair, hesitated for a split-second – it was broad daylight, after all, even in a city of ruins – but then leaned in and kissed him square on the lips.
The sun came out through a rift in the sheet of clouds, warming Gintoki’s back. Zura reached up and tugged his hair, lightly.
“Stupid perm,” Zura called after him as Gintoki walked away a minute later. He sounded a little breathless. Gintoki waved without looking back.
A fake assassination, a shattering explosion that was secretly carefully controlled, all to lure the enemy down from the heavens to where they could be attacked - and to meet them, they were running side by side, the three of them.
Running ahead, breathlessly yet happily, allies left behind because this was, above all, their battle to fight, their problem to take care of.
Running, running, but though they were treading paved city streets and heading for lethal battle in the space terminal, it felt more like grass and the earth of foot-paths under their feet, like it was the old school building they were glimpsing behind leafy trees, as if it had never been burnt down; as if it had always been waiting for them.
There was no time to lose. Three boys, one heart.
We’re coming, Sensei.
The climb up to the bedroom window was the same as always. The curtains were drawn, and the window closed, but that presented little problem for Katsura, who fiddled away with a wire as he clung to the wall and window frame. He rapped lightly on the window a couple of times for courtesy’s sake, then opened it up just in time to be met by Gintoki planting a hand on his masked face.
“That mask does not get to come in here,” Gintoki said sourly, pushing him outwards, at a risk of falling down if Katsura had had a little worse sense of balance.
“Tsk. How unadventurous of you,” grumbled Katsura, voice muffled by the double combo of mask and hand, then managed to nudge his face away and take the mask off. Gintoki removed his hand at that and stepped very slightly aside, enough that Katsura could make it through and land on the tatami floor with a roll.
“I thought Leader had claimed this room now,” he remarked, getting to his feet and looking around. The futon hadn’t been rolled out yet.
“And you still climbed in?” Gintoki smacked him on the head. “What an impure guy. You’re the worst.”
Katsura rubbed his head. “That’s what the knocking was for. And I was fully prepared to close my eyes if need be. Also, I mostly thought it would be empty. It’s not that late yet.”
“Excuses, excuses!! And where did you hear it's hers, anyway? It’s not like it’s been settled… The topic is under discussion every day, believe me.”
“You’re smelling of booze,” remarked Katsura with a frown. Gintoki was by no means reeking, but it was noticeable at close range.
Gintoki shrugged. “Client gave me a bottle. Waste of time not to drink it.”
Katsura put his hands into his sleeves, opened his mouth to disagree, then closed it. “...Is there anything left of it?” he said instead.
“Think so. I’ll go check,” said Gintoki. “You know, I never said you could come in,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen, presumably. “You’re such a pushy guy.”
“So says the pushiest guy in all of Edo,” Katsura retorted. He walked over to the closet and brought out two futons and some bedclothes. Gintoki didn’t offer any comment as he returned with one bottle of sake and two cups, just plunked himself down on one of the futons.
“Anyway,” he said while pouring out sake for Katsura, “Kagura’s gone on a so-called ‘Girls’ Night Out’ tonight, and said she’ll sleep over at her buddy’s place. Can you believe it?” He handed the cup over, then held out his own so Katsura could return the favour, which he did carefully. “She’s still only 16!” Gintoki continued. “People will say, who’s that Gin-san fellow, such an irresponsible guy just letting this teenager go out on town, what if she gets drunk even though she’s a minor, what if some fast-talking seducer sets his eyes on her…”
“All of Leader’s female friends are good at handling themselves,” Katsura broke in. “Who is she with?”
“Ah, she’s with Soyo and Nobume. Maybe Tsukky will show up, too.”
“That’s fine. Leader’s in no danger, then.”
“I know that! I know full well the only ones in danger will be the poor sods who’ll get victimized by coming across those sadistic lunatics and gorilla girls! But people might still get the wrong idea…”
Katsura sighed. “Gintoki…”
“Don’t you ‘Gintoki’ me. Public opinion is a thing, you know! And you have some nerve, I never even said you could come inside and you’re already settling in for the night.”
“Shh.” Katsura leaned over and kissed him. Gintoki kissed back. He felt soft and welcoming, but not all that hungry - probably not that interested in going much further right now.
Which suited Katsura fine, as he was fairly tired himself. He hadn’t slept much the night before, and it had been a long day. “Look,” he said, “I took off my vigilante mask for you. You should be grateful.”
“I’m going to burn that thing,” muttered Gintoki, scowling. He emptied his sake cup and put it down with an angry flourish. “I can’t believe you’re running around in a skintight bodysuit. You’ve always been so twitchy about showing skin like some damn Western prude…”
“There’s nothing Western about modesty!” protested Katsura. “But…” he admitted, “...maybe it was time to set it aside for a bit. To run more freely.” He exhaled, and took another sip of sake. It wasn’t very good, but passable. “Besides, I always liked that old comic,” he added more quietly, his fingers sliding over the surface of the old cup. It had cracks in it, aged and venerable: might be from Otose-dono’s own cupboard. “Little Oba-Q, such a scamp… Homages do have their place.”
“But you still put on your kimono tonight,” Gintoki pointed out.
“Sometimes it gets chilly.” Katsura said, smiling a little.
“You’re not having that bodysuit on underneath, do you? Do you?” Gintoki raised up the collar of Katsura’s kimono to peek, sounding personally offended at the thought. How silly of him. But he settled down again at the sight of bare skin.
They finished up the bottle in silence. Sounds leaked out from the bar downstairs. Someone had turned on the karaoke machine and was now exuberantly singing an old H*roshi Its*ki song. The curtains were half open, now, letting in some of the city lights while the sky darkened from evening into night.
He shifted his seat and adjusted his kimono. Carefully, he asked, “Did you hear? About the infant Matako Kijima found?”
Gintoki nodded, looking into the bottom of his empty cup. “Tatsuma wrote me about it,” he said. “Said he'd been talking to you. Couldn't tell me yourself, could you?”
“I know sometimes the roundabout way is the easiest way to reach an elusive guy,” said Katsura. “Getting through the noise and chaos around him.”
“Like you didn't add a good part of that noise,” mumbled Gintoki. Then he drew a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. Another silence passed. Quietly, he said, “I don’t know what to think.”
“She might be deluded… There might not be a connection.” Katsura paused, then continued bleakly, “Even if there is one… if he never remembers his old life, it’s just like it was any other child. And perhaps that would be for the best. For his sake.”
It felt so cold to say that. But all the pain and darkness of that past life… that was no kind of burden to wish on a child.
“I told him to wait for me in hell, Zura,” said Gintoki quietly, hoarsely. “Do you figure he was just too impatient?”
“Ah… When you put it that way…” Something not all that different from nostalgia made him smile, then blink hard for a few moments.
He took a deep breath, then continued, even more gently, “But if Sensei… If Sensei could do anything for any one of us, I think he would.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers through Gintoki’s hair tentatively.
Gintoki didn’t pull away; instead he turned his face to Katsura’s and his hand on the back of Katsura’s head, nudging him closer. They exchanged a few kisses, featherlight ones. Gintoki’s expression didn’t change.
“Everything changed and now nothing has changed,” mumbled Gintoki eventually, his voice still rough, head bowed enough that the hair fell over his eyes. “That’s how I thought I wanted it, but… There’s too much of it, I can’t believe in it. It’s like when the creators of a videogame listen too much to the fans and give them all they asked for in the new release, and the fans realised they didn’t really want all that, now that they have it.”
“But isn’t that why things aren’t too perfect?” said Katsura, tone brighter now. “That everyone’s still complaining and creating a ruckus? That our new Prime Minister reinstated a police force of infamous thugs?”
“Hey.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. The manga had to end somewhere. It was like herding everyone into the same small space to take a group photo, but afterwards they get to move again. And it’s all moving forward still. Bit by bit and in many directions…”
“Yeah…” Gintoki didn’t look at him, though, his face still molded by loss. Katsura felt he could hear the thought as clearly as if it had been said out loud, by either of them, But not everyone gets to be in that group photo.
He shivered, the deep ache coming back; he wanted to draw his kimono tighter but didn’t move. The man had lived beautifully until the end, in his final stretch of life, but the end had come far, far too soon.
He reached out, nudging himself on the futon so he could reach out and take both of Gintoki’s hands, his thumbs massaging their sides gently. They felt cold, colder than usual.
His hands are warm, thought Gintoki, letting Zura hold his own hands without a fuss. He squeezed them, even. He breathed in, slowly, a part of him wondering distantly what the point of warming up even would be. Closing his eyes, he breathed out.
Ducked his head forward, leaning it against Zura’s shoulder. Let go of one hand to stroke Zura’s side up and down slowly.
“You know,” he eventually said, voice clearer again, “those brats have become so big now.” Zura had one hand on his back now, a sense of warmth spreading out from it. “More than you’d think just from their years. Hell, even though they’re not out there leading armies they’re likely more mature than we were at those ages.”
“Certainly more mature than you were,” agreed Zura, his hand stroking Gintoki’s back. Gintoki didn’t think he needed that much soothing, but it was fine, if it was making Zura happy he could keep doing it for just a bit more.
“You shut up,” he said, and then eventually leaned back to lie on the futon, tugging on Zura to follow him down. It was more comfortable there, and the sake was making his head spin. “But all the same,” continued Gintoki with a grumbling tone, “there’s no way I’m going to let that gorilla girl keep throwing me out of my own damn bedroom. If that’s what she thinks she has another think coming.” They were a bit at angles where they lay, so he put one of his legs over Zura’s. Warmer that way.
“Mmhm,” said Zura noncommittally, then let out a big yawn, arms stretched over his head. So he was tired too, huh. Made sense, running around in that ridiculous get-up and doing gods-knew-what silly pranks he claimed to be vigilantism. Maybe there was some deeper thought to all of that, or maybe it was just about attention and adrenaline.
Gintoki suddenly found himself wondering if anything would be different now if little Zura hadn’t so often had to be the Sensible One among the three of them. If he’d been able to run more freely back then, get more silliness out of his system...
“You know… you were right.” Zura interrupted Gintoki’s train of thought.
“Huh?”
Zura moved to lie on the side, facing Gintoki. “About the house across the street. It never was torn down, in the end. As you must have noticed.”
“Which house? I have no idea what you’re babbling about now… oh.” He rubbed his forehead, the memory of that New Year’s night returning, now. “So?”
“It’s changed owners, though,” continued Zura. “It’s been bought by an old Jôishishi sympathiser who’s recently come into a bit of money. He’s willing to let me rent it again, the big flat on the second floor this time.”
Gintoki picked his nose. “I see.” After a moment, he said, in a tone of indifference, “Maybe I’ll stop by now and then. Since it’s so close.”
“Excellent!” said Zura, beaming. “Do bring your own pajamas and toothbrush. Oh, and this will be a good opportunity for you to start wearing socks. The floor can be cold there and you’ll smell so much better… ow.”
Gintoki took away his elbow from Zura’s face. “Don’t go overboard… Hey, wait a minute!” He sat up. “Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait. Your penguin monster thing. Is he still going to hang around?”
Zura sighed, sitting up as well. “How many times do I need to tell you that Elizabeth is not a thing? Hopefully , he will indeed grace my new premises with his presence on a daily basis.” He smoothed the cover over his knees. “But he will, in fact, have his own place in my old flat downstairs. It was his idea. He feels he should be more independent.” Zura lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think he might just be gaining some interest in having ladyfriends!”
Gintoki rolled his eyes. “You are the biggest, dumbest granny ever, Zura.”
Zura clearly chose to ignore this. “To tell you the truth, Gintoki,” he said, “I’ve become rather used to living with a companion these past few years. I support dear Elizabeth’s advances in maturity and independence, but it will be more lonely.” In a more chipper tone, he said, “That’s why I’m glad you decided to join me!”
“Hey, hey, I’m not moving in! I’ll just be coming to visit! Visit!!…And wait a minute, I was your second choice?!”
Zura patted his cheek. “Don’t be silly, Gintoki. Of course you were.”
Gintoki swatted away Zura’s hand and gave him an unamused stare. “Asshole. Maybe I won’t even come visit.”
Zura kissed him on the nose. “Remember, your own toothbrush. And don’t steal my conditioner again.” He lay down once more, rolling over on the other side.
“Tch.” Gintoki smiled despite himself. “You’re impossible.”
“Mhm.” Zura’s voice was muffled. “You’d better start wearing socks.”
“You’d better get rid of that mask.” Gintoki lay down on his side, watching Zura for a moment or two. He looked so dumb and peaceful, so crazy and beautiful.
Then he poked him in the back. “Oi. Don’t go to sleep with your clothes still on. It’s peacetime.”
Zura sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Oh. I forgot.” He blinked. “I just… went with the flow.”
“What an idiot,” said Gintoki lazily, starting to change into his green pajamas himself. He tossed an old T-shirt to Zura, who wrinkled his nose but accepted it.
“You know,” Gintoki murmured a couple of minutes later, drawing the covers over them and snuggling up to Zura. “I doubt the kids will mind much if you stay for breakfast this time.”
He drew his hand up and down Zura’s arm, feeling a small tremulation - a vibration, really, underneath that skin. Then Zura slowly breathed out, like a wave reaching the shore after many miles at sea.
“Yes,” he murmured, “perhaps I will…” He reached up and took Gintoki’s arm by the wrist briefly. Almost too low to catch, he said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“It’s my home, dammit,” said Gintoki, his voice a little thick. “Where else would I be?” He kissed Zura by his ear. “This is typical Kabuki District nonsense, me in bed with a moron and we’re not even having sex.”
“‘Nobody with a natural perm is a decent person’” quoted Zura. “Clearly I’m the one who should be lamented. You corrupter.”
“Clearly nothing, idiot.” Gintoki closed his eyes, breathing in. “You went back to your old shampoo,” he said quietly. “I like this one better.”
“Can’t change too much, can I?” said Zura drowsily. “Not supposed to. You either.” He shifted, pulling at the covers, another yawn passing through him, and then to Gintoki. “We… we did promise...”
His voice tapered off, and just a moment later he’d started to snore peacefully. His eyes opened with the usual creepy look at first, but then they started to blink, and finally closed. If Gintoki had this right, it meant Zura felt unusually safe right now.
Downstairs, he heard the usual noises from the bar closing up, with chairs put up onto tables, Tama sweeping up, Otose and Catherine nudging the last stragglers through the door, any of them ready to bodily throw out stubborn patrons... Then putting things away and turning out the lights. Home noises.
Loss was still in him, pain and wounds and big gaping holes where living people should have been. But he was also here still, in the middle of this dumb beautiful dirty city, right next to this dumb beautiful idiot, with Shinpachi and Kagura and so many other idiots out there who were still marvellously alive. Living beautifully. Or at least, trying their best to do so.
He breathed out, allowing the wave of night to draw him under.
Damn straight I’ll corrupt you, he thought, one arm still slung over Zura’s sleeping form. Tomorrow I’m going to make you sleep in for once. Eating breakfast with the rest of us. Shinpachi will click his tongue at you for being late. Kagura will try to steal your food. I’ll probably hit you a few times at least for idiocy. Don’t change, Zura.
And maybe there was an extra set of toothbrush-and-pajamas in Gintoki’s future… but he still wasn’t going to start wearing socks.
-End.
Chapters: 5/5
Rating: G (maybe T/PG13 for language)
Word Count: Around 4300 in this final chapter
Characters/Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Spoilers/Setting: This chapter spoils the Battle of Rakuyo arc, the Silver Soul arc, and the final arc right up through the last manga chapter.
Summary: See Chapter 1.
Continued from Chapter 4.
On the open plain under the grey sky of another planet they stood, surrounded by enemies. There were tremors in the ground, the battle noises dark, low; high, sharp. Chemical scents filled the air, with an undertone of sweat and blood; in their mouths was a taste of metal-danger-exhilaration.
And also: a vibration that, while still a little bit careful, a little bit cautious, not wishing to hope for too much, nevertheless crackled with words unspoken and something like relief.
They faced every cardinal direction, back to back, each holding a weapon: a bokuto, a gun, a regular katana, and a shikomizue katana.
A few surface-proud and tetchy remarks on one side, edgy stand-offishness on the other, and a valiant attempt at mediation in the middle, all to lighten the mood. Thank heavens, as always, for Tatsuma Sakamoto.
Their allies were on the move, fighting hard to catch up with them – but they were the vanguard, and they knew it was up to them to go on the offensive. Like how it was supposed to be.
Together, they raised their weapons, and charged.
It was seven days after the end of the great battles, after the Altana Liberation Front had been defeated, the Altana eruptions had ceased, tamed and settled, and even Utsuro had been finally taken down, at enormous cost and effort. The Amanto mothership had still crashed down, but slowed-down enough that the resulting devastation was much more local and less ultimately catastrophic than what could have been. The wounded had been taken care of, the dead were buried, and ships at sea and in the air had started to go back and forth, transporting nutritions and people.
And Gintoki was walking away from his home.
Kagura was leaving Earth with what was left of Sadaharu on her own mission. Shinpachi stayed behind to take care of Edo. Who knew when they’d be seeing each other again?
A pessimistic voice at the back of Gintoki’s head whispered, maybe never - but he didn’t truly believe in it. Not after all that had happened. Still, he had to go on doing what only he could do. If he’d stayed here for longer, postponing and procrastinating, it would only get harder to leave.
He hadn’t been walking for all that long through the city, using various detours around all the ruins and rubble, when he saw a familiar figure perched on the crumbled wall of a ruin, as if he’d been waiting for him. And he probably had.
“You’re leaving.”
He stopped, looking at the other from underneath his new traveller’s hat. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I have things to do.”
“Away from Edo.” Zura was drumming his fingers on the brick wall, looking thoughtful. “Are you… Is it the dragon’s veins? The outlets of Altana?”
Gintoki felt his face grow more closed. “You know it is,” he said roughly. “That man… He kept coming back, before. I might be wrong… but I need to look.”
“Even if it takes a long time.”
“Even then.” Gintoki picked his ear. “You’re not leaving.”
Zura shook his head. “No. I need to be here and help with the rebuilding.”
Gintoki looked upwards, to a sky that was mostly overcast, where a half-hidden sun shone weakly through a thin sheet of whiteness. “Figured that,” he said easily. “Gonna call in some political favours, right?” He took off his hat to scratch his head, then put it on again, not used to the weight yet.
“I’m not denying that,” said Zura, though he did frown a little, putting his arms in his sleeves. “I’m going to do what it takes in order to remake this country. Not rebuild it to just how it was. To something better.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll do your wheeling and dealing.” Gintoki put in a bored tone as a comfortable cover. He figured it couldn’t be an easy road ahead of Zura. But in the end, if anyone could do it, it was him, wasn’t it? “Have fun with it,” he finally said.
“There’s one more thing, Gintoki,” Zura said, urgency in his voice as if Gintoki had already started walking away. “Takasugi.”
Gintoki raised his head questioningly. “Mmh?”
“He survived the crash too, you know,” Zura said quietly. “He left the ship without a word, but he’s been seen since. I was worried since he was wounded, but the report said he was moving just fine and looked good.”
“Oh.” After a moment, Gintoki rallied, “Of course he survived it. Bastard’s too tough to go down that easy.”
“It was one of my men who saw him, entirely by accident. It was none of my trained spies, but even if it had been, I’m sure Takasugi would still have spotted him… Anyway, he gave the man a message to pass on to me.” Zura paused, and when Gintoki said nothing, he continued, putting some of Takasugi’s diction in his voice, “’Tell him I have no intention of lifting a finger for this rotten country.’”
A smile tugged at Gintoki’s lips. “That’s him all right.”
Zura brought out a folded piece of paper from inside his sleeve. “He also passed on this note.”
He handed it over, and Gintoki read, ‘I may be in touch. Or not. Go to the top so I can bring you down.’
Gintoki peered at Zura and gave him the note back. “Definitely him. Are you worried?”
Zura put the note back into his sleeve, and now he was smiling, too. “Please,” he said. “Like I couldn’t take him.”
A silent moment. Far away, a woman was sobbing loudly. A large vehicle passed on the next street over, rumbling slowly no doubt to avoid crashing into rubble.
It felt like a small vibration passed between them. Not intensely, but there all the same.
Gintoki drew breath. “Zura-” he started.
“I wonder what salacious adventures you’ll be up to away from me,” said Zura brightly.
Gintoki gave him a flat look. “If you think you’re being funny and cool now, just stop. Please stop. Forever.”
“All those pretty village girls. You’d better remember to bring condoms.” Zura patted Gintoki on the shoulder – but Gintoki countered with a kind of one-armed hug that was almost a headlock and which nearly made Zura tumble down from his perch on the rubble.
“Stop trying to be a twinkly-eyed uncle or a discount Tatsuma,” he grumbled. “That doesn’t suit you.”
But – there was something about Zura’s wording that would have alarmed him not all that long ago and didn’t, now. ‘Away from me.’ Not staking a full claim, but still setting up markers, as it were. Jokingly, but… he’d never done that before.
Gintoki found it strange to realize he didn’t dislike that.
Zura was wordless for a moment, but then rallied. “Ho ho ho! Sounds like you’re shy, Gintoki!” he sputtered obnoxiously, not getting that much air in his position.
“Idiot.” Gintoki let go and gave him a smack on the head. “And it’s not ‘ho ho ho’, it’s ‘ahahaha’.”
Zura kicked him on the shin. “Ow!” protested Gintoki. “Why do you always go there? Bastard!”
Then he picked up his fallen hat and tied the strap under his chin. “Anyway,” he said drily, feeling more cheered up now, “go romance all the widows you want, then. Idiot wig.” He ruffled Zura’s hair, hesitated for a split-second – it was broad daylight, after all, even in a city of ruins – but then leaned in and kissed him square on the lips.
The sun came out through a rift in the sheet of clouds, warming Gintoki’s back. Zura reached up and tugged his hair, lightly.
“Stupid perm,” Zura called after him as Gintoki walked away a minute later. He sounded a little breathless. Gintoki waved without looking back.
A fake assassination, a shattering explosion that was secretly carefully controlled, all to lure the enemy down from the heavens to where they could be attacked - and to meet them, they were running side by side, the three of them.
Running ahead, breathlessly yet happily, allies left behind because this was, above all, their battle to fight, their problem to take care of.
Running, running, but though they were treading paved city streets and heading for lethal battle in the space terminal, it felt more like grass and the earth of foot-paths under their feet, like it was the old school building they were glimpsing behind leafy trees, as if it had never been burnt down; as if it had always been waiting for them.
There was no time to lose. Three boys, one heart.
We’re coming, Sensei.
The climb up to the bedroom window was the same as always. The curtains were drawn, and the window closed, but that presented little problem for Katsura, who fiddled away with a wire as he clung to the wall and window frame. He rapped lightly on the window a couple of times for courtesy’s sake, then opened it up just in time to be met by Gintoki planting a hand on his masked face.
“That mask does not get to come in here,” Gintoki said sourly, pushing him outwards, at a risk of falling down if Katsura had had a little worse sense of balance.
“Tsk. How unadventurous of you,” grumbled Katsura, voice muffled by the double combo of mask and hand, then managed to nudge his face away and take the mask off. Gintoki removed his hand at that and stepped very slightly aside, enough that Katsura could make it through and land on the tatami floor with a roll.
“I thought Leader had claimed this room now,” he remarked, getting to his feet and looking around. The futon hadn’t been rolled out yet.
“And you still climbed in?” Gintoki smacked him on the head. “What an impure guy. You’re the worst.”
Katsura rubbed his head. “That’s what the knocking was for. And I was fully prepared to close my eyes if need be. Also, I mostly thought it would be empty. It’s not that late yet.”
“Excuses, excuses!! And where did you hear it's hers, anyway? It’s not like it’s been settled… The topic is under discussion every day, believe me.”
“You’re smelling of booze,” remarked Katsura with a frown. Gintoki was by no means reeking, but it was noticeable at close range.
Gintoki shrugged. “Client gave me a bottle. Waste of time not to drink it.”
Katsura put his hands into his sleeves, opened his mouth to disagree, then closed it. “...Is there anything left of it?” he said instead.
“Think so. I’ll go check,” said Gintoki. “You know, I never said you could come in,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen, presumably. “You’re such a pushy guy.”
“So says the pushiest guy in all of Edo,” Katsura retorted. He walked over to the closet and brought out two futons and some bedclothes. Gintoki didn’t offer any comment as he returned with one bottle of sake and two cups, just plunked himself down on one of the futons.
“Anyway,” he said while pouring out sake for Katsura, “Kagura’s gone on a so-called ‘Girls’ Night Out’ tonight, and said she’ll sleep over at her buddy’s place. Can you believe it?” He handed the cup over, then held out his own so Katsura could return the favour, which he did carefully. “She’s still only 16!” Gintoki continued. “People will say, who’s that Gin-san fellow, such an irresponsible guy just letting this teenager go out on town, what if she gets drunk even though she’s a minor, what if some fast-talking seducer sets his eyes on her…”
“All of Leader’s female friends are good at handling themselves,” Katsura broke in. “Who is she with?”
“Ah, she’s with Soyo and Nobume. Maybe Tsukky will show up, too.”
“That’s fine. Leader’s in no danger, then.”
“I know that! I know full well the only ones in danger will be the poor sods who’ll get victimized by coming across those sadistic lunatics and gorilla girls! But people might still get the wrong idea…”
Katsura sighed. “Gintoki…”
“Don’t you ‘Gintoki’ me. Public opinion is a thing, you know! And you have some nerve, I never even said you could come inside and you’re already settling in for the night.”
“Shh.” Katsura leaned over and kissed him. Gintoki kissed back. He felt soft and welcoming, but not all that hungry - probably not that interested in going much further right now.
Which suited Katsura fine, as he was fairly tired himself. He hadn’t slept much the night before, and it had been a long day. “Look,” he said, “I took off my vigilante mask for you. You should be grateful.”
“I’m going to burn that thing,” muttered Gintoki, scowling. He emptied his sake cup and put it down with an angry flourish. “I can’t believe you’re running around in a skintight bodysuit. You’ve always been so twitchy about showing skin like some damn Western prude…”
“There’s nothing Western about modesty!” protested Katsura. “But…” he admitted, “...maybe it was time to set it aside for a bit. To run more freely.” He exhaled, and took another sip of sake. It wasn’t very good, but passable. “Besides, I always liked that old comic,” he added more quietly, his fingers sliding over the surface of the old cup. It had cracks in it, aged and venerable: might be from Otose-dono’s own cupboard. “Little Oba-Q, such a scamp… Homages do have their place.”
“But you still put on your kimono tonight,” Gintoki pointed out.
“Sometimes it gets chilly.” Katsura said, smiling a little.
“You’re not having that bodysuit on underneath, do you? Do you?” Gintoki raised up the collar of Katsura’s kimono to peek, sounding personally offended at the thought. How silly of him. But he settled down again at the sight of bare skin.
They finished up the bottle in silence. Sounds leaked out from the bar downstairs. Someone had turned on the karaoke machine and was now exuberantly singing an old H*roshi Its*ki song. The curtains were half open, now, letting in some of the city lights while the sky darkened from evening into night.
He shifted his seat and adjusted his kimono. Carefully, he asked, “Did you hear? About the infant Matako Kijima found?”
Gintoki nodded, looking into the bottom of his empty cup. “Tatsuma wrote me about it,” he said. “Said he'd been talking to you. Couldn't tell me yourself, could you?”
“I know sometimes the roundabout way is the easiest way to reach an elusive guy,” said Katsura. “Getting through the noise and chaos around him.”
“Like you didn't add a good part of that noise,” mumbled Gintoki. Then he drew a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. Another silence passed. Quietly, he said, “I don’t know what to think.”
“She might be deluded… There might not be a connection.” Katsura paused, then continued bleakly, “Even if there is one… if he never remembers his old life, it’s just like it was any other child. And perhaps that would be for the best. For his sake.”
It felt so cold to say that. But all the pain and darkness of that past life… that was no kind of burden to wish on a child.
“I told him to wait for me in hell, Zura,” said Gintoki quietly, hoarsely. “Do you figure he was just too impatient?”
“Ah… When you put it that way…” Something not all that different from nostalgia made him smile, then blink hard for a few moments.
He took a deep breath, then continued, even more gently, “But if Sensei… If Sensei could do anything for any one of us, I think he would.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers through Gintoki’s hair tentatively.
Gintoki didn’t pull away; instead he turned his face to Katsura’s and his hand on the back of Katsura’s head, nudging him closer. They exchanged a few kisses, featherlight ones. Gintoki’s expression didn’t change.
“Everything changed and now nothing has changed,” mumbled Gintoki eventually, his voice still rough, head bowed enough that the hair fell over his eyes. “That’s how I thought I wanted it, but… There’s too much of it, I can’t believe in it. It’s like when the creators of a videogame listen too much to the fans and give them all they asked for in the new release, and the fans realised they didn’t really want all that, now that they have it.”
“But isn’t that why things aren’t too perfect?” said Katsura, tone brighter now. “That everyone’s still complaining and creating a ruckus? That our new Prime Minister reinstated a police force of infamous thugs?”
“Hey.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. The manga had to end somewhere. It was like herding everyone into the same small space to take a group photo, but afterwards they get to move again. And it’s all moving forward still. Bit by bit and in many directions…”
“Yeah…” Gintoki didn’t look at him, though, his face still molded by loss. Katsura felt he could hear the thought as clearly as if it had been said out loud, by either of them, But not everyone gets to be in that group photo.
He shivered, the deep ache coming back; he wanted to draw his kimono tighter but didn’t move. The man had lived beautifully until the end, in his final stretch of life, but the end had come far, far too soon.
He reached out, nudging himself on the futon so he could reach out and take both of Gintoki’s hands, his thumbs massaging their sides gently. They felt cold, colder than usual.
His hands are warm, thought Gintoki, letting Zura hold his own hands without a fuss. He squeezed them, even. He breathed in, slowly, a part of him wondering distantly what the point of warming up even would be. Closing his eyes, he breathed out.
Ducked his head forward, leaning it against Zura’s shoulder. Let go of one hand to stroke Zura’s side up and down slowly.
“You know,” he eventually said, voice clearer again, “those brats have become so big now.” Zura had one hand on his back now, a sense of warmth spreading out from it. “More than you’d think just from their years. Hell, even though they’re not out there leading armies they’re likely more mature than we were at those ages.”
“Certainly more mature than you were,” agreed Zura, his hand stroking Gintoki’s back. Gintoki didn’t think he needed that much soothing, but it was fine, if it was making Zura happy he could keep doing it for just a bit more.
“You shut up,” he said, and then eventually leaned back to lie on the futon, tugging on Zura to follow him down. It was more comfortable there, and the sake was making his head spin. “But all the same,” continued Gintoki with a grumbling tone, “there’s no way I’m going to let that gorilla girl keep throwing me out of my own damn bedroom. If that’s what she thinks she has another think coming.” They were a bit at angles where they lay, so he put one of his legs over Zura’s. Warmer that way.
“Mmhm,” said Zura noncommittally, then let out a big yawn, arms stretched over his head. So he was tired too, huh. Made sense, running around in that ridiculous get-up and doing gods-knew-what silly pranks he claimed to be vigilantism. Maybe there was some deeper thought to all of that, or maybe it was just about attention and adrenaline.
Gintoki suddenly found himself wondering if anything would be different now if little Zura hadn’t so often had to be the Sensible One among the three of them. If he’d been able to run more freely back then, get more silliness out of his system...
“You know… you were right.” Zura interrupted Gintoki’s train of thought.
“Huh?”
Zura moved to lie on the side, facing Gintoki. “About the house across the street. It never was torn down, in the end. As you must have noticed.”
“Which house? I have no idea what you’re babbling about now… oh.” He rubbed his forehead, the memory of that New Year’s night returning, now. “So?”
“It’s changed owners, though,” continued Zura. “It’s been bought by an old Jôishishi sympathiser who’s recently come into a bit of money. He’s willing to let me rent it again, the big flat on the second floor this time.”
Gintoki picked his nose. “I see.” After a moment, he said, in a tone of indifference, “Maybe I’ll stop by now and then. Since it’s so close.”
“Excellent!” said Zura, beaming. “Do bring your own pajamas and toothbrush. Oh, and this will be a good opportunity for you to start wearing socks. The floor can be cold there and you’ll smell so much better… ow.”
Gintoki took away his elbow from Zura’s face. “Don’t go overboard… Hey, wait a minute!” He sat up. “Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait. Your penguin monster thing. Is he still going to hang around?”
Zura sighed, sitting up as well. “How many times do I need to tell you that Elizabeth is not a thing? Hopefully , he will indeed grace my new premises with his presence on a daily basis.” He smoothed the cover over his knees. “But he will, in fact, have his own place in my old flat downstairs. It was his idea. He feels he should be more independent.” Zura lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think he might just be gaining some interest in having ladyfriends!”
Gintoki rolled his eyes. “You are the biggest, dumbest granny ever, Zura.”
Zura clearly chose to ignore this. “To tell you the truth, Gintoki,” he said, “I’ve become rather used to living with a companion these past few years. I support dear Elizabeth’s advances in maturity and independence, but it will be more lonely.” In a more chipper tone, he said, “That’s why I’m glad you decided to join me!”
“Hey, hey, I’m not moving in! I’ll just be coming to visit! Visit!!…And wait a minute, I was your second choice?!”
Zura patted his cheek. “Don’t be silly, Gintoki. Of course you were.”
Gintoki swatted away Zura’s hand and gave him an unamused stare. “Asshole. Maybe I won’t even come visit.”
Zura kissed him on the nose. “Remember, your own toothbrush. And don’t steal my conditioner again.” He lay down once more, rolling over on the other side.
“Tch.” Gintoki smiled despite himself. “You’re impossible.”
“Mhm.” Zura’s voice was muffled. “You’d better start wearing socks.”
“You’d better get rid of that mask.” Gintoki lay down on his side, watching Zura for a moment or two. He looked so dumb and peaceful, so crazy and beautiful.
Then he poked him in the back. “Oi. Don’t go to sleep with your clothes still on. It’s peacetime.”
Zura sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Oh. I forgot.” He blinked. “I just… went with the flow.”
“What an idiot,” said Gintoki lazily, starting to change into his green pajamas himself. He tossed an old T-shirt to Zura, who wrinkled his nose but accepted it.
“You know,” Gintoki murmured a couple of minutes later, drawing the covers over them and snuggling up to Zura. “I doubt the kids will mind much if you stay for breakfast this time.”
He drew his hand up and down Zura’s arm, feeling a small tremulation - a vibration, really, underneath that skin. Then Zura slowly breathed out, like a wave reaching the shore after many miles at sea.
“Yes,” he murmured, “perhaps I will…” He reached up and took Gintoki’s arm by the wrist briefly. Almost too low to catch, he said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“It’s my home, dammit,” said Gintoki, his voice a little thick. “Where else would I be?” He kissed Zura by his ear. “This is typical Kabuki District nonsense, me in bed with a moron and we’re not even having sex.”
“‘Nobody with a natural perm is a decent person’” quoted Zura. “Clearly I’m the one who should be lamented. You corrupter.”
“Clearly nothing, idiot.” Gintoki closed his eyes, breathing in. “You went back to your old shampoo,” he said quietly. “I like this one better.”
“Can’t change too much, can I?” said Zura drowsily. “Not supposed to. You either.” He shifted, pulling at the covers, another yawn passing through him, and then to Gintoki. “We… we did promise...”
His voice tapered off, and just a moment later he’d started to snore peacefully. His eyes opened with the usual creepy look at first, but then they started to blink, and finally closed. If Gintoki had this right, it meant Zura felt unusually safe right now.
Downstairs, he heard the usual noises from the bar closing up, with chairs put up onto tables, Tama sweeping up, Otose and Catherine nudging the last stragglers through the door, any of them ready to bodily throw out stubborn patrons... Then putting things away and turning out the lights. Home noises.
Loss was still in him, pain and wounds and big gaping holes where living people should have been. But he was also here still, in the middle of this dumb beautiful dirty city, right next to this dumb beautiful idiot, with Shinpachi and Kagura and so many other idiots out there who were still marvellously alive. Living beautifully. Or at least, trying their best to do so.
He breathed out, allowing the wave of night to draw him under.
Damn straight I’ll corrupt you, he thought, one arm still slung over Zura’s sleeping form. Tomorrow I’m going to make you sleep in for once. Eating breakfast with the rest of us. Shinpachi will click his tongue at you for being late. Kagura will try to steal your food. I’ll probably hit you a few times at least for idiocy. Don’t change, Zura.
And maybe there was an extra set of toothbrush-and-pajamas in Gintoki’s future… but he still wasn’t going to start wearing socks.
-End.