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rainsometimesA giftfic for lasercat, who has also written one for me which has now been posted to AO3 here - a very funny, delightful, delicious Ginzura fic!
The two of us did a one-on-one Ginzura fic exchange, my first time doing that! It was very fun.
DISCLAIMER: the characters of Gintama belong to their creator Hideaki Sorachi. They are used here without permission for entertainment purpose only. This fanfic may not be used for profit in any way - this includes reposting it to any site with ads. In general it should not be reposted anywhere without my approval.
This fanfic is not to be used for any AI training.
Constructive criticism and any other feedback is very welcome.
Title: Old Friends Can Speak Nonsense Even Without Talking Out Loud
Fandom: Gintama
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Rating: G
Word Count: Around 3375 as I'm posting, might change
Characters: Gintoki, Katsura, Kagura (and just barely Shinpachi)
Spoilers/setting: Really it's "standard Gintama time before the Shogun Asssassination Arc" though a stray remark places it after the Afro arc
Vibe: Sickfic, domestic, kinda fluffy. Mildly shippy
Summary: Gintoki has a bad cold. Katsura comes to visit. They can't banter as much as usual.
Morning dawned in Edo on a hot and humid day in May. Kagura rolled out of her closet and stumbled into the kitchen, sneezing violently. It was the second day of her cold and she was well tired of it already. She had got it from Gin-chan, who had also been coughing through the night. She put on the rice cooker, took out some sukonbu to deafen the worst hunger pangs, and chewed on it as she went to pee and got dressed, hot and tired and gloomy. Not even feeling up for putting her hair into buns, she just brushed it morosely and put a hair clip in it.
“Stupid lousy cold, Earthlings infecting me with their lousy germs, why is Edo so full of stupid germs”, she muttered a few minutes later as she had her rice-with-egg-on-top, supplemented with soya and pickled plums because she could hardly taste it otherwise with her blocked nose. At that moment Gin-chan appeared, looking bleary and rednosed and as miserable with cold as she felt, except maybe even worse. At least Kagura still had a little bit of energy left.
Sadaharu was pawing at the door and whining. Kagura wiped the last rice grains from her face and announced, "I’ll go walk the dog.”
“You’re sick,” Gin-chan reminded her in a hoarse voice.
“Fresh air will be good. And Shinpachi is late, too, so I have to do it,” said Kagura, feeling like a cool self-sacrificing heroine. Then she clouded again. “I want a cute cloth mask again, like all the other cute girls have.”
“You lost the old one yourself,” Gin-chan pointed out, but she ignored this stingy remark and put on her shoes and a boring disposable mask, took her umbrella and left with Sadaharu.
It was hot but overcast outside, no sun to shield against. Despite the stickiness, it felt nice at first to be out and about, especially once she reached the park with all the greenery and a mass of flowers at this time of year. She could feel a few nice breezes coming through, too. On the downside, she couldn't smell the pretty flowers and nobody was looking at her and seeing how cool and heroic she was for walking her dog when she was sick. None of her younger friends were to be seen either. They were probably at their temple school.
“Well, even if they were here, I couldn’t play with them,” she mumbled, sitting down on a bench while Sadaharu ran free around the green. She'd gotten tired and dizzy already, and she kept coughing and sneezing. This sucked.
After a short while, instead of feeling hot with fever, she started to shiver with chills. Even the park was no fun anymore. She called out, “Come on, Sadaharu, we’re going home!”
On the way back home she had to grab his fur for support several times. Nobody who passed them by seemed to notice, nobody asked if she was okay. Boy, the big city sure was cold sometimes… She got a bit gloomy, thinking of her old life in Edo, back before that day when Gin-chan and Shinpachi had run her over with his scooter.
Just a few blocks away from home, she saw a weird-looking figure walking ahead of them in the same direction. She frowned. There was something familiar about his movements, but from behind, he looked like he was from a historical drama on the TV. But why walk around like that in the middle of Edo? Must be some kind of cosplaying geek…
When Sadaharu and her had almost reached Otose’s Snack Bar, she exploded with sneezes, almost losing her footing.
The figure turned around and hurried back towards them.
***
Gintoki had also slept badly, coughing and sneezing in the humid air, continuously getting up to get a new glass of water, then having to get up again to pee, then trying to sleep but coughing too much and needing more water, et cetera. In the morning he had coughed himself hoarse. After Kagura had left, he made himself a lackluster breakfast with what was left of the rice in the rice cooker – and the very fact that Kagura hadn’t devoured all of it showed clearly she wasn’t feeling well – together with strawberry milk and a tiny piece of bacon Kagura hadn’t found yet. Then he left the dirty dishes in the sink and lay back on one of the living-room sofas together with a blanket, a glass of water, a cold wet cloth on his forehead, and a volume of the Ragna 1/3 manga, dug out from the back of a drawer. The works.
He was three chapters into the old manga when the doorbell chimed and Shinpachi finally turned up, uncommonly late.
Pachi-boy was wearing an Otsu-styled cloth mask and carrying a heavy grocery bag in each hand. As he entered the living room he dumped them on the ground and glowered at Gintoki.
“I only came to bring you guys rice so Kagura-chan won’t starve and you don’t have to go shopping. Stop spreading your germs everywhere, they got to me too.” He paused to wipe his face behind the mask and wave at the bags. “There’s some medicine in there, too, Sis bought too much just for me. Just stay put and get better! …I can’t believe I’m actually telling you to slack off more,” he added in a low, incredulous voice.
Gintoki was delighted by the delivery, but still, something had to be addressed. “So Kagura-chan won’t starve?” His own voice sounded even hoarser and thinner by now - he cleared his voice, annoyed at the weak sound. “What about good old Gin-san? I need sweets to survive! Didn’t think of that, did you…” He trailed off, as Shinpachi pulled out a cheap chocolate bar from one of the grocery bags and put it on the table with a triumphant air.
“Knew you’d say that." Shinpachi looked smug behind the mask. Dusting off his hands, he turned and said, “That’s that, I’m going home to rest now.”
“Ah, wait wait Pachi-boy!” Gin burst out, scrambling to get up and go after him. “Don’t go home yet, hold on-!”
“You’re going to lose your voice, Gin-san,” warned Shinpachi.
“Can’t you at least buy me the new issue of Jump? I’ll give you 300 yen!”
But the young samurai had already reached the front door and put on his sandals. “The newest issue isn’t out yet, it’s been delayed because of paper shortage.” As he slipped out the door, Gintoki heard other footsteps on the staircase, ascending towards the apartment. “Kagura-chan, you should go to bed,” chided Shinpachi, now out of sight. “Oh, hi there, Katsura-san…” His voice trailed off in the distance.
Gintoki slumped back on the sofa with a groan. No new Jump, only an old Zura. Admittedly Zura had a lot of experience looking after unwell Gin-sans, even from back then they were kids, but there was a limit to how much chipper lunacy a man with a bad cold could take... He took care to hide the chocolate in his sleeve before Kagura and Sadaharu entered the living room.
Behind them strode a figure entirely decked out in samurai armour, complete with an antique helmet and a metal mask painted in green and gold. Zura had even switched to trousers, though they were still dark blue like his kimono rather than the old wartime green. Only the eyes and the black hair peeked out above the outfit, and his regular white tabi socks below it. Besides his usual sword he was also carrying a green paper bag whose logo looked vaguely familiar at a glance.
Gintoki cleared his hoarse throat. “Oh come on, we’re not that pestilent,” he protested. “Don’t be a wimp, Zura. You know you never get colds, idiot.”
Kagura had fished out a big bag of rice from one of the grocery bags and was hugging it now. “Rice Santa came!" she exclaimed. "Zura’s lost his voice, Gin-chan, he can’t say anything. Look.” She tossed a scrap of paper on Gintoki’s chest.
‘LEADER! ARE YOU OKAY? I HAVE LOST MY VOICE (TEMPORARILY),’ the note said.
“I got dizzy on the way here,” said Kagura. “Zura helped me. I’m a tragic heroine who suffers for my pet and I don’t even have a cute cloth mask. Even Shinpachi has a cool mask. Aaaaand I’m not even hungry now, it’s terrible. Terrible, Gin-ch-ch-chachoo!” She had a new sneezing bout, causing Gintoki to hide his face behind his sleeve, dropping the rice. “I’m going to bed,” she announced.
She pulled her futon out from the closet and dragged it over into Gintoki’s bedroom on unsteady legs. “I’m taking over this room. I need to rest for real like a sleeping princess. You can stay in the living room.”
“You’re not the only sick one,” muttered Gintoki, but even if he hadn’t been so hoarse he wouldn’t have objected for real, not when the girl could barely stand. Sadaharu followed Kagura into the bedroom, settling into the far corner for a nap.
With the two of them alone in the living room, Gintoki picked his nose and gave Zura a fish-eyed look. “You’ve never lost your voice before. What’s that?” He waved at the armour. Normally, he’d ask him what kind of yelling he’d been doing and add that the armour looked all fake and terrible, but it really did start to hurt to talk. It was galling to admit, but Shinpachi had been right.
Katsura took off his ridiculous metal mask – where had he got that, anyway, a flea market? – and removed his helmet, putting both of them on the table and shaking his hair free, glamourous actress style. He took out another piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it to Gintoki.
‘I HAVE BRAVED THE DANGERS OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD FLORIST TO GET HERE. WHILE HE DOES HAVE A GENTLE HEART, I WOULD FEAR FOR MY LIFE TO VISIT THAT SHOP WITHOUT ARMOUR, JUST IN CASE I HURT A FLOWER BY ACCIDENT. HERE YOU GO, GINTOKI.’
He took out a potted plant and put it in the middle of the table in a ‘ta-da!’ kind of gesture, looking proud. It had green leaves and three large, roundish white flowers. Gintoki blinked.
Then Zura took off his armour with surprising quickness – surprising, that was, if you’d never seen him changing clothes off the battlefield – and swept out to the kitchen. Minutes later, he returned with two cups of tea on a tray.
Okay. Gintoki sat up and stumbled into the kitchen, bringing back five packets of sugar that he emptied into his cup of tea. He was all out of strawberry milk, alas.
Finally giving up trying to speak normally, he whispered, “What’s with the plant? Never got you anything for Valentine’s.” It was White Day today, after all. “'S not bad-looking, but white chocolate would have been nice…”
Zura sipped at his tea, then looked back at Gintoki with a serious look. More open than usual, almost searching… Gintoki couldn’t put a word to his expression. Zura took out a pen and a notebook, wrote a few lines down and showed them.
‘I ACTUALLY DID GET A BAD COLD WITH LOTS OF COUGHING AND A HIGH FEVER. THAT’S WHY I LOST MY VOICE.’
“Finally? Even you?!” Gintoki wasn’t sure whether he felt glee or unease that this apparent invulnerability of Zura’s had been defeated, at last. A mix of both, perhaps. “Good going, germs!” he whispered. "You got there at last!"
Zura frowned, taking back his notebook and writing more in it. ‘I HAVE FALLEN SICK BEFORE! IT’S JUST USUALLY OVER VERY QUICKLY. YOU NEVER NOTICE. LAST NIGHT IT LASTED FOUR HOURS, THAT IS VERY LONG FOR ME.’
Gintoki gave him a ‘there’s no way you really believe I will fall for that’ look. Nobody lost their voice just by coughing for a couple of hours.
But Zura just nodded. Then he wrote, in a smaller script this time, ‘And I had a fever dream. It was a strange feeling. Drifting. Unmoored. I dreamt the manga had already ended, and I wasn’t an outlaw anymore, except it seemed like I still was, and it was hard to talk to you, and I couldn’t find anything. All the buildings had changed.’
He paused while Gintoki read this, then added, writing more slowly, ‘In the dream I saw a vision of a white flower. And I thought in the dream, “I should give that to Gintoki. The White Yaksha should have a white flower. Why haven’t I ever seen that before?"’
Zura looked down at his notes. Then he shrugged, not meeting Gintoki’s eyes. ‘So when I woke up, I decided I should do just that,’ he wrote. ‘I felt better when I saw that flower, in the dream.’
“That’s just weird, Zura.” Gintoki lay back on the sofa again, his head spinning. “That’s just weird…” he whispered again. You didn’t have to do that, idiot. I’m still here. Just because you have a bad fever dream doesn’t mean I’ll go away..
Zura wrote more hastily again, ‘I THOUGHT ABOUT BUYING A NARCISSUS BUT THEY’RE VERY BAD FOR DOGS. THEN I THOUGHT ABOUT A WHITE LILY BUT THOSE ARE TOXIC TO CATS (I know you don’t have a cat right now but you could get a cat visitor in the future somedayI!). SO I BOUGHT A WHITE CAMELLIA. (I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE SICK!!) Please take care of it.’ He paused, then wrote, ‘I’ll give the care instructions to Shinpachi.’
“Hey! Give me a break,” hissed Gintoki, “I can take care of things too!”
Zura put his head to one side, looking over at Gintoki. Then he took the wet cloth that had been on Gintoki’s forehead before Shinpachi turned up. It had long turned lukewarm. Zura went into the kitchen – not a trace of unsteadiness on those limbs, it was hard to believe he’d run a high fever the night before, except it wasn’t hard because it was Zura – and brought it back soaked in cold water. He spread it on Gintoki’s forehead, pulling his hair back gently to make room for it. Then he wrapped the blanket tighter around him and stood back.
Gintoki couldn’t help but chuckle. “Overdoing it… But you’re always like that,” he whispered. Just like the concerned young boy who never fell ill himself but would try his best to help Shoyo look after Gintoki and Takasugi, and anybody else in the class who was coughing and sneezing and shivering. He wiped his hot face with the cloth and then put it back on his forehead.
“Siddown, for cryin’ out loud,” he whispered, trying to wave Zura down. But Zura only sat down on the table, staying close to Gin. He put a finger to his mouth. The meaning was clear: spare your voice.
Gintoki thought, then reached out inside Zura’s sleeve, fishing his notebook and pen out. He wrote, ‘THEN WE’RE BOTH STEALING YOUR PET’S SHTICK. AND ALSO SAITO-SAN’S.’
Zura sniffed, taking back pen and notebook. ‘THAT’S ON GORILLA-SENSEI FOR STEALING FROM GUNMA-PANDA IN THE FIRST PLACE’, he pointed out, patting the Ragna 1/3 volume meaningfully. ‘JUST DIRECT ALL PLAGIARISM COMPLAINTS TO HIM, NOT US.’ But he seemed more relaxed now, his shoulders untensing, his forehead smoother.
He’d said he had been unmoored, in that dream. Zura does slip away sometimes… He was so steady, deep down, as easy to lean on as a great, strong oak tree… and yet there were times when it felt like the river would sweep him away, the rain would hide him, that he would become hard to see…. But maybe that was all Gintoki’s own fever talking. Right now Zura’s knee was brushing against Gintoki’s thigh, his neck and collarbone so close Gintoki could reach out and stroke them; he seemed to be anchored here in Kabuki-cho again. In peacetime. Away from dark dreams of battlefields and sick-barracks, where so many of their brothers-in-arms had suffered and died to disease and infections. No, they were here now, warm and alive.
Well, mostly warm. He shivered as another fever chill passed through him, making him huddle in the blanket, then burst out in more sneezing and coughing. “D-damn it…” Zura handed him his cup of tea, and Gintoki drained it with care, not wanting to start coughing again. He finished Shinpachi’s chocolate gift quickly. The cloth on his face had grown too warm again, so he removed it.
Taking hold of Zura’s sleeve, he let his fingers wander over the fabric, cheap but solid cotton. “Sounds like a stupid dream,” he whispered. “I’m still here.” He cupped his hands around Zura’s wrist, as if wanting to warm it up. But Zura’s cool skin probably wasn’t cold for real; it was Gintoki that was feverish.
Zura wasn’t sneezing or coughing or shivering like Gintoki; right now, he also wasn’t talking up a storm, making dramatic statements, trying for more screentime or making Gintoki join his terrorist group. Or even doing his maternal nagging bit. He only sat there, his head tilted a little as he looked at Gintoki, solid, quiet, present. It was almost like the whole house had fitted itself around his frame, as comfortably as a battered old cloak on a veteran soldier.
Aa, but what kind of weird image was that? Gin-san was the one who’d get strange fever dreams, next. He stroke Zura’s hand slowly, almost thoughtfully (but he wasn’t thinking: maybe his fingers were thinking, but not him). A hint of a smile tugged at Zura’s lips, and he in turn caressed Gintoki’s cheek gently with his other hand.
You smell good, Gintoki.
Gintoki blinked. He thought he could practically hear that statement, but Zura’s mouth hadn’t been open. It was probably just Gintoki’s feverish mind playing weird tricks with him, rather than Newtype-style mind speech making a return to the series. Especially since it was out of character for Zura to say, wasn’t it?
Well, maybe not entirely…
He let go of Zura’s hand and leaned back again, but didn’t turn his face away as Zura's pleasantly cool fingers stroke his forehead once more. If his vocal cords had been working, Gintoki figured he would have next heard Zura say something sappy and warm and a bit silly and stupidly endearing.
Instead Zura took his notebook again and wrote in it, unsmiling once more. He tore out a page and handed it to Gintoki.
‘NOW YOU OWE ME FOR THIS WHITE DAY GIFT, I HOPE YOU REALIZE. LOOKING FORWARD TO YOU TAKING ME OUT TO A NICE RESTAURANT TO REPAY ME!’
Gintoki could feel his own vocal cords not up to the stinging rebuke this deserved, so he grabbed the pen and wrote further down on the piece of paper, ‘GO AWAY! I’M SICK AND YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE CHOCOLATE ANYWAY. SOBA FREAK!’
Ahhh… Zura was the one who smelled so good, damnit. His face was so close to Gintoki’s now. If they had been cats, their whiskers would have touched.
In truth, he didn't mind going to a restaurant with Zura, only paying the bill for two. That was too much for Gin-san's poor wallet, but…
I guess I could buy him a flower some time. Hydrangeas, maybe. It seemed like a Zura type of flower… He thought of a bouquet of them, big and blue, on a desk where Zura would sit and write, making both clever and lunatic plans.
His mind felt hazy again, but he reached out once more to run his fingers through straight black hair, then found the back of Zura’s head, tugging it downwards.
***
When Kagura woke up a few hours later, feeling hungry, she found the two of them still in the living room. But now Gintoki lay with his head in Zura’s lap, snoring slightly. His face was looking better already, not as red and sweaty anymore.
Zura’s eyes met Kagura’s and he put a finger to his lips. Don’t disturb Gintoki, it was clear he meant.
If Gin-chan hadn’t been sick for days now, Kagura might still have felt like making a scene. It was a sappy sight, and it made her all feel soft and embarrassed, wanting to cover that up with a loud exchange, just to get back to normal. But Gin-chan really had been sick and it was, she had to admit to herself, kinda nice to see him looking so peaceful. So she padded into the kitchen and made herself more rice-with-egg-on-top fairly quietly.
She returned to the living room with her bowl of rice and sat down on the other sofa, turned on the TV but with the volume kept low. Zura was reading an old manga, occasionally chuckling soundlessly. His finger drew small circles in Gintoki’s hair now and then - Kagura wasn’t even sure if Zura knew he was doing it. She munched on her rice and watched the little people on TV chatting away in tiny voices. There was more taste to the food now. Her nose must be starting to get unblocked.
A tiny breeze came in through the open window, bringing some fresh air. Maybe the weather was shifting.
Over on Gin-chan’s black desk stood the plant that Zura had brought them, swaying slightly. The three flowers looked like little clouds, all round and fluffy.
lasercat, who has also written one for me which has now been posted to AO3 here - a very funny, delightful, delicious Ginzura fic!The two of us did a one-on-one Ginzura fic exchange, my first time doing that! It was very fun.
DISCLAIMER: the characters of Gintama belong to their creator Hideaki Sorachi. They are used here without permission for entertainment purpose only. This fanfic may not be used for profit in any way - this includes reposting it to any site with ads. In general it should not be reposted anywhere without my approval.
This fanfic is not to be used for any AI training.
Constructive criticism and any other feedback is very welcome.
Title: Old Friends Can Speak Nonsense Even Without Talking Out Loud
Fandom: Gintama
Pairing: Gintoki/Katsura
Rating: G
Word Count: Around 3375 as I'm posting, might change
Characters: Gintoki, Katsura, Kagura (and just barely Shinpachi)
Spoilers/setting: Really it's "standard Gintama time before the Shogun Asssassination Arc" though a stray remark places it after the Afro arc
Vibe: Sickfic, domestic, kinda fluffy. Mildly shippy
Summary: Gintoki has a bad cold. Katsura comes to visit. They can't banter as much as usual.
Morning dawned in Edo on a hot and humid day in May. Kagura rolled out of her closet and stumbled into the kitchen, sneezing violently. It was the second day of her cold and she was well tired of it already. She had got it from Gin-chan, who had also been coughing through the night. She put on the rice cooker, took out some sukonbu to deafen the worst hunger pangs, and chewed on it as she went to pee and got dressed, hot and tired and gloomy. Not even feeling up for putting her hair into buns, she just brushed it morosely and put a hair clip in it.
“Stupid lousy cold, Earthlings infecting me with their lousy germs, why is Edo so full of stupid germs”, she muttered a few minutes later as she had her rice-with-egg-on-top, supplemented with soya and pickled plums because she could hardly taste it otherwise with her blocked nose. At that moment Gin-chan appeared, looking bleary and rednosed and as miserable with cold as she felt, except maybe even worse. At least Kagura still had a little bit of energy left.
Sadaharu was pawing at the door and whining. Kagura wiped the last rice grains from her face and announced, "I’ll go walk the dog.”
“You’re sick,” Gin-chan reminded her in a hoarse voice.
“Fresh air will be good. And Shinpachi is late, too, so I have to do it,” said Kagura, feeling like a cool self-sacrificing heroine. Then she clouded again. “I want a cute cloth mask again, like all the other cute girls have.”
“You lost the old one yourself,” Gin-chan pointed out, but she ignored this stingy remark and put on her shoes and a boring disposable mask, took her umbrella and left with Sadaharu.
It was hot but overcast outside, no sun to shield against. Despite the stickiness, it felt nice at first to be out and about, especially once she reached the park with all the greenery and a mass of flowers at this time of year. She could feel a few nice breezes coming through, too. On the downside, she couldn't smell the pretty flowers and nobody was looking at her and seeing how cool and heroic she was for walking her dog when she was sick. None of her younger friends were to be seen either. They were probably at their temple school.
“Well, even if they were here, I couldn’t play with them,” she mumbled, sitting down on a bench while Sadaharu ran free around the green. She'd gotten tired and dizzy already, and she kept coughing and sneezing. This sucked.
After a short while, instead of feeling hot with fever, she started to shiver with chills. Even the park was no fun anymore. She called out, “Come on, Sadaharu, we’re going home!”
On the way back home she had to grab his fur for support several times. Nobody who passed them by seemed to notice, nobody asked if she was okay. Boy, the big city sure was cold sometimes… She got a bit gloomy, thinking of her old life in Edo, back before that day when Gin-chan and Shinpachi had run her over with his scooter.
Just a few blocks away from home, she saw a weird-looking figure walking ahead of them in the same direction. She frowned. There was something familiar about his movements, but from behind, he looked like he was from a historical drama on the TV. But why walk around like that in the middle of Edo? Must be some kind of cosplaying geek…
When Sadaharu and her had almost reached Otose’s Snack Bar, she exploded with sneezes, almost losing her footing.
The figure turned around and hurried back towards them.
***
Gintoki had also slept badly, coughing and sneezing in the humid air, continuously getting up to get a new glass of water, then having to get up again to pee, then trying to sleep but coughing too much and needing more water, et cetera. In the morning he had coughed himself hoarse. After Kagura had left, he made himself a lackluster breakfast with what was left of the rice in the rice cooker – and the very fact that Kagura hadn’t devoured all of it showed clearly she wasn’t feeling well – together with strawberry milk and a tiny piece of bacon Kagura hadn’t found yet. Then he left the dirty dishes in the sink and lay back on one of the living-room sofas together with a blanket, a glass of water, a cold wet cloth on his forehead, and a volume of the Ragna 1/3 manga, dug out from the back of a drawer. The works.
He was three chapters into the old manga when the doorbell chimed and Shinpachi finally turned up, uncommonly late.
Pachi-boy was wearing an Otsu-styled cloth mask and carrying a heavy grocery bag in each hand. As he entered the living room he dumped them on the ground and glowered at Gintoki.
“I only came to bring you guys rice so Kagura-chan won’t starve and you don’t have to go shopping. Stop spreading your germs everywhere, they got to me too.” He paused to wipe his face behind the mask and wave at the bags. “There’s some medicine in there, too, Sis bought too much just for me. Just stay put and get better! …I can’t believe I’m actually telling you to slack off more,” he added in a low, incredulous voice.
Gintoki was delighted by the delivery, but still, something had to be addressed. “So Kagura-chan won’t starve?” His own voice sounded even hoarser and thinner by now - he cleared his voice, annoyed at the weak sound. “What about good old Gin-san? I need sweets to survive! Didn’t think of that, did you…” He trailed off, as Shinpachi pulled out a cheap chocolate bar from one of the grocery bags and put it on the table with a triumphant air.
“Knew you’d say that." Shinpachi looked smug behind the mask. Dusting off his hands, he turned and said, “That’s that, I’m going home to rest now.”
“Ah, wait wait Pachi-boy!” Gin burst out, scrambling to get up and go after him. “Don’t go home yet, hold on-!”
“You’re going to lose your voice, Gin-san,” warned Shinpachi.
“Can’t you at least buy me the new issue of Jump? I’ll give you 300 yen!”
But the young samurai had already reached the front door and put on his sandals. “The newest issue isn’t out yet, it’s been delayed because of paper shortage.” As he slipped out the door, Gintoki heard other footsteps on the staircase, ascending towards the apartment. “Kagura-chan, you should go to bed,” chided Shinpachi, now out of sight. “Oh, hi there, Katsura-san…” His voice trailed off in the distance.
Gintoki slumped back on the sofa with a groan. No new Jump, only an old Zura. Admittedly Zura had a lot of experience looking after unwell Gin-sans, even from back then they were kids, but there was a limit to how much chipper lunacy a man with a bad cold could take... He took care to hide the chocolate in his sleeve before Kagura and Sadaharu entered the living room.
Behind them strode a figure entirely decked out in samurai armour, complete with an antique helmet and a metal mask painted in green and gold. Zura had even switched to trousers, though they were still dark blue like his kimono rather than the old wartime green. Only the eyes and the black hair peeked out above the outfit, and his regular white tabi socks below it. Besides his usual sword he was also carrying a green paper bag whose logo looked vaguely familiar at a glance.
Gintoki cleared his hoarse throat. “Oh come on, we’re not that pestilent,” he protested. “Don’t be a wimp, Zura. You know you never get colds, idiot.”
Kagura had fished out a big bag of rice from one of the grocery bags and was hugging it now. “Rice Santa came!" she exclaimed. "Zura’s lost his voice, Gin-chan, he can’t say anything. Look.” She tossed a scrap of paper on Gintoki’s chest.
‘LEADER! ARE YOU OKAY? I HAVE LOST MY VOICE (TEMPORARILY),’ the note said.
“I got dizzy on the way here,” said Kagura. “Zura helped me. I’m a tragic heroine who suffers for my pet and I don’t even have a cute cloth mask. Even Shinpachi has a cool mask. Aaaaand I’m not even hungry now, it’s terrible. Terrible, Gin-ch-ch-chachoo!” She had a new sneezing bout, causing Gintoki to hide his face behind his sleeve, dropping the rice. “I’m going to bed,” she announced.
She pulled her futon out from the closet and dragged it over into Gintoki’s bedroom on unsteady legs. “I’m taking over this room. I need to rest for real like a sleeping princess. You can stay in the living room.”
“You’re not the only sick one,” muttered Gintoki, but even if he hadn’t been so hoarse he wouldn’t have objected for real, not when the girl could barely stand. Sadaharu followed Kagura into the bedroom, settling into the far corner for a nap.
With the two of them alone in the living room, Gintoki picked his nose and gave Zura a fish-eyed look. “You’ve never lost your voice before. What’s that?” He waved at the armour. Normally, he’d ask him what kind of yelling he’d been doing and add that the armour looked all fake and terrible, but it really did start to hurt to talk. It was galling to admit, but Shinpachi had been right.
Katsura took off his ridiculous metal mask – where had he got that, anyway, a flea market? – and removed his helmet, putting both of them on the table and shaking his hair free, glamourous actress style. He took out another piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it to Gintoki.
‘I HAVE BRAVED THE DANGERS OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD FLORIST TO GET HERE. WHILE HE DOES HAVE A GENTLE HEART, I WOULD FEAR FOR MY LIFE TO VISIT THAT SHOP WITHOUT ARMOUR, JUST IN CASE I HURT A FLOWER BY ACCIDENT. HERE YOU GO, GINTOKI.’
He took out a potted plant and put it in the middle of the table in a ‘ta-da!’ kind of gesture, looking proud. It had green leaves and three large, roundish white flowers. Gintoki blinked.
Then Zura took off his armour with surprising quickness – surprising, that was, if you’d never seen him changing clothes off the battlefield – and swept out to the kitchen. Minutes later, he returned with two cups of tea on a tray.
Okay. Gintoki sat up and stumbled into the kitchen, bringing back five packets of sugar that he emptied into his cup of tea. He was all out of strawberry milk, alas.
Finally giving up trying to speak normally, he whispered, “What’s with the plant? Never got you anything for Valentine’s.” It was White Day today, after all. “'S not bad-looking, but white chocolate would have been nice…”
Zura sipped at his tea, then looked back at Gintoki with a serious look. More open than usual, almost searching… Gintoki couldn’t put a word to his expression. Zura took out a pen and a notebook, wrote a few lines down and showed them.
‘I ACTUALLY DID GET A BAD COLD WITH LOTS OF COUGHING AND A HIGH FEVER. THAT’S WHY I LOST MY VOICE.’
“Finally? Even you?!” Gintoki wasn’t sure whether he felt glee or unease that this apparent invulnerability of Zura’s had been defeated, at last. A mix of both, perhaps. “Good going, germs!” he whispered. "You got there at last!"
Zura frowned, taking back his notebook and writing more in it. ‘I HAVE FALLEN SICK BEFORE! IT’S JUST USUALLY OVER VERY QUICKLY. YOU NEVER NOTICE. LAST NIGHT IT LASTED FOUR HOURS, THAT IS VERY LONG FOR ME.’
Gintoki gave him a ‘there’s no way you really believe I will fall for that’ look. Nobody lost their voice just by coughing for a couple of hours.
But Zura just nodded. Then he wrote, in a smaller script this time, ‘And I had a fever dream. It was a strange feeling. Drifting. Unmoored. I dreamt the manga had already ended, and I wasn’t an outlaw anymore, except it seemed like I still was, and it was hard to talk to you, and I couldn’t find anything. All the buildings had changed.’
He paused while Gintoki read this, then added, writing more slowly, ‘In the dream I saw a vision of a white flower. And I thought in the dream, “I should give that to Gintoki. The White Yaksha should have a white flower. Why haven’t I ever seen that before?"’
Zura looked down at his notes. Then he shrugged, not meeting Gintoki’s eyes. ‘So when I woke up, I decided I should do just that,’ he wrote. ‘I felt better when I saw that flower, in the dream.’
“That’s just weird, Zura.” Gintoki lay back on the sofa again, his head spinning. “That’s just weird…” he whispered again. You didn’t have to do that, idiot. I’m still here. Just because you have a bad fever dream doesn’t mean I’ll go away..
Zura wrote more hastily again, ‘I THOUGHT ABOUT BUYING A NARCISSUS BUT THEY’RE VERY BAD FOR DOGS. THEN I THOUGHT ABOUT A WHITE LILY BUT THOSE ARE TOXIC TO CATS (I know you don’t have a cat right now but you could get a cat visitor in the future somedayI!). SO I BOUGHT A WHITE CAMELLIA. (I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE SICK!!) Please take care of it.’ He paused, then wrote, ‘I’ll give the care instructions to Shinpachi.’
“Hey! Give me a break,” hissed Gintoki, “I can take care of things too!”
Zura put his head to one side, looking over at Gintoki. Then he took the wet cloth that had been on Gintoki’s forehead before Shinpachi turned up. It had long turned lukewarm. Zura went into the kitchen – not a trace of unsteadiness on those limbs, it was hard to believe he’d run a high fever the night before, except it wasn’t hard because it was Zura – and brought it back soaked in cold water. He spread it on Gintoki’s forehead, pulling his hair back gently to make room for it. Then he wrapped the blanket tighter around him and stood back.
Gintoki couldn’t help but chuckle. “Overdoing it… But you’re always like that,” he whispered. Just like the concerned young boy who never fell ill himself but would try his best to help Shoyo look after Gintoki and Takasugi, and anybody else in the class who was coughing and sneezing and shivering. He wiped his hot face with the cloth and then put it back on his forehead.
“Siddown, for cryin’ out loud,” he whispered, trying to wave Zura down. But Zura only sat down on the table, staying close to Gin. He put a finger to his mouth. The meaning was clear: spare your voice.
Gintoki thought, then reached out inside Zura’s sleeve, fishing his notebook and pen out. He wrote, ‘THEN WE’RE BOTH STEALING YOUR PET’S SHTICK. AND ALSO SAITO-SAN’S.’
Zura sniffed, taking back pen and notebook. ‘THAT’S ON GORILLA-SENSEI FOR STEALING FROM GUNMA-PANDA IN THE FIRST PLACE’, he pointed out, patting the Ragna 1/3 volume meaningfully. ‘JUST DIRECT ALL PLAGIARISM COMPLAINTS TO HIM, NOT US.’ But he seemed more relaxed now, his shoulders untensing, his forehead smoother.
He’d said he had been unmoored, in that dream. Zura does slip away sometimes… He was so steady, deep down, as easy to lean on as a great, strong oak tree… and yet there were times when it felt like the river would sweep him away, the rain would hide him, that he would become hard to see…. But maybe that was all Gintoki’s own fever talking. Right now Zura’s knee was brushing against Gintoki’s thigh, his neck and collarbone so close Gintoki could reach out and stroke them; he seemed to be anchored here in Kabuki-cho again. In peacetime. Away from dark dreams of battlefields and sick-barracks, where so many of their brothers-in-arms had suffered and died to disease and infections. No, they were here now, warm and alive.
Well, mostly warm. He shivered as another fever chill passed through him, making him huddle in the blanket, then burst out in more sneezing and coughing. “D-damn it…” Zura handed him his cup of tea, and Gintoki drained it with care, not wanting to start coughing again. He finished Shinpachi’s chocolate gift quickly. The cloth on his face had grown too warm again, so he removed it.
Taking hold of Zura’s sleeve, he let his fingers wander over the fabric, cheap but solid cotton. “Sounds like a stupid dream,” he whispered. “I’m still here.” He cupped his hands around Zura’s wrist, as if wanting to warm it up. But Zura’s cool skin probably wasn’t cold for real; it was Gintoki that was feverish.
Zura wasn’t sneezing or coughing or shivering like Gintoki; right now, he also wasn’t talking up a storm, making dramatic statements, trying for more screentime or making Gintoki join his terrorist group. Or even doing his maternal nagging bit. He only sat there, his head tilted a little as he looked at Gintoki, solid, quiet, present. It was almost like the whole house had fitted itself around his frame, as comfortably as a battered old cloak on a veteran soldier.
Aa, but what kind of weird image was that? Gin-san was the one who’d get strange fever dreams, next. He stroke Zura’s hand slowly, almost thoughtfully (but he wasn’t thinking: maybe his fingers were thinking, but not him). A hint of a smile tugged at Zura’s lips, and he in turn caressed Gintoki’s cheek gently with his other hand.
You smell good, Gintoki.
Gintoki blinked. He thought he could practically hear that statement, but Zura’s mouth hadn’t been open. It was probably just Gintoki’s feverish mind playing weird tricks with him, rather than Newtype-style mind speech making a return to the series. Especially since it was out of character for Zura to say, wasn’t it?
Well, maybe not entirely…
He let go of Zura’s hand and leaned back again, but didn’t turn his face away as Zura's pleasantly cool fingers stroke his forehead once more. If his vocal cords had been working, Gintoki figured he would have next heard Zura say something sappy and warm and a bit silly and stupidly endearing.
Instead Zura took his notebook again and wrote in it, unsmiling once more. He tore out a page and handed it to Gintoki.
‘NOW YOU OWE ME FOR THIS WHITE DAY GIFT, I HOPE YOU REALIZE. LOOKING FORWARD TO YOU TAKING ME OUT TO A NICE RESTAURANT TO REPAY ME!’
Gintoki could feel his own vocal cords not up to the stinging rebuke this deserved, so he grabbed the pen and wrote further down on the piece of paper, ‘GO AWAY! I’M SICK AND YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE CHOCOLATE ANYWAY. SOBA FREAK!’
Ahhh… Zura was the one who smelled so good, damnit. His face was so close to Gintoki’s now. If they had been cats, their whiskers would have touched.
In truth, he didn't mind going to a restaurant with Zura, only paying the bill for two. That was too much for Gin-san's poor wallet, but…
I guess I could buy him a flower some time. Hydrangeas, maybe. It seemed like a Zura type of flower… He thought of a bouquet of them, big and blue, on a desk where Zura would sit and write, making both clever and lunatic plans.
His mind felt hazy again, but he reached out once more to run his fingers through straight black hair, then found the back of Zura’s head, tugging it downwards.
***
When Kagura woke up a few hours later, feeling hungry, she found the two of them still in the living room. But now Gintoki lay with his head in Zura’s lap, snoring slightly. His face was looking better already, not as red and sweaty anymore.
Zura’s eyes met Kagura’s and he put a finger to his lips. Don’t disturb Gintoki, it was clear he meant.
If Gin-chan hadn’t been sick for days now, Kagura might still have felt like making a scene. It was a sappy sight, and it made her all feel soft and embarrassed, wanting to cover that up with a loud exchange, just to get back to normal. But Gin-chan really had been sick and it was, she had to admit to herself, kinda nice to see him looking so peaceful. So she padded into the kitchen and made herself more rice-with-egg-on-top fairly quietly.
She returned to the living room with her bowl of rice and sat down on the other sofa, turned on the TV but with the volume kept low. Zura was reading an old manga, occasionally chuckling soundlessly. His finger drew small circles in Gintoki’s hair now and then - Kagura wasn’t even sure if Zura knew he was doing it. She munched on her rice and watched the little people on TV chatting away in tiny voices. There was more taste to the food now. Her nose must be starting to get unblocked.
A tiny breeze came in through the open window, bringing some fresh air. Maybe the weather was shifting.
Over on Gin-chan’s black desk stood the plant that Zura had brought them, swaying slightly. The three flowers looked like little clouds, all round and fluffy.
