Chapter Text
the aftermath
Sougo supposes it started during the party at Snack Smile.
Now that the chaos was over and done with, it hits him finally, that after two years, everything was back to normal, or as normal as it could ever be in Kabuki-cho. It had been two years, and no one had changed. He expected that they would all just go back to the same old, same old, and he was glad for it, or at the very least content.
But then China had rested her elbow on his shoulder, without a care, the movement so natural that he didn’t even register it at first. He supposes he might have something to do with it. If he hadn’t stood so closely to her, then she wouldn’t have so impertinently turned him into an elbow rest.
He expected the insults, something about how he was only meant to be a footrest for her, so it surprises him when none come. Instead she’s laughing and grinning, as if everything was right and everything was back in its place. He thinks as always; she lets her guard down too much. It wasn’t even a few hours ago that they’d been in a serious fight. But maybe this is on him too, because despite his leg remembering the trauma she can wrought (it still aches from time to time), somehow or the other he finds himself gravitating toward her in the first place.
He gives it a moment or two, because it’s not as if he hates the sensation of her skin, the warmth that he feels through his jacket. He just finds it…odd. Because in the past she’d always shy away from being near him except when they fought. She’d make exaggerated disgusted faces, befitting for a brat like her as if moaning about cooties or something. Inside, he’d scoff. If anyone should worry about infectious alien diseases, it should be him. The only contact they’d make, the only time their fingers would interlace as if in a parody of a lover’s hold, was when they fought. Their weapons were their pen and paper, while violence was their language, so this almost peaceful contact, while it doesn’t disgust him, he has to admit, at least in the privacy of his mind, unnerves him.
Because he is who he is, self-sabotaging sadist extraordinaire, and because she is her, still so easily riled-up despite slightly maturing, he moves away so that she ends up unbalanced (despite knowing that he could have done something much worse, like forcefully bash her to the ground, the slight is almost innocent). Even he feels contentment and doesn’t want to ruin the general air of peace. And yet, he wants to see the fire in her eyes. He wants their routine, some hint that nothing really has changed.
She stares him down with vitriol and he matches her with a pout. Despite that the most important things haven’t changed, he notes with slight surprise, that some have. He notes that her blue eyes are closer this time around as compared to before when he could so easily look down on her. Although he’s gotten taller, he frowns to himself because he does have to admit that it’s not by much. In contrast, it’s as if the weed in front of him has suddenly shot up.
He knows from their fight that she’s gotten stronger. He also can’t help but notice earlier that her hair had gotten longer. When before, as in when she’d puked her guts all over a perfectly good barbecue, it had been a rat’s nest, the slight glimpse he’d had of it earlier showed that her hair now swayed loosely with the wind, like a silk waterfall of fire. Sougo winces. He thinks he’ll also have to barf or commit seppuku for such disgusting words to cross his mind.
Of course she’d gotten taller, what with her legs getting longer as well. End of the world or no, it was pretty hard to ignore when she wore a dress with such high slits. He thinks he’ll have to arrest her for public indecency. What on earth was Danna doing, allowing her to go out like that?
Routine is something that Sougo is familiar with. He was a simple creature who preferred the usual comforts – a good assassination attempt, a good fight, a good nap. No one had changed that much in these past two years, so he thinks with irritation, why had she?
And is his irritation only because of her changes? Or because of his as well?
One way or the other, the fight gets brought up.
“I really thought you’d gone over to the dark side. But well, I always knew you were a twisted bastard, yes?” She teases with a mocking grin, and her hands on her hips.
“Of course not Kagura-chan! Okita-san was only pretending. He wouldn’t have actually hurt me…maybe…probably,” the glasses mutters unconvincingly.
Slight annoyance flares when she hugs the glasses stand from behind. “Still, you could have seriously hurt my daughter, yes? Even if you think Patsuan has gotten stronger, you shouldn’t play with him like that.”
Outside he keeps a blank face, but inside he scoffs. That was rich considering that it was the both of them who had turned the glasses stand into a human cannon ball.
“You’re the one who said my strikes were too slow,” he shrugs.
“Who’re you calling your daughter?!” Shinpachi sighs, pushing up his glasses on his nose. “It’s not that Kagura-chan. It’s because Okita-san believed in you, that you would never let anyone get hurt.” Shinpachi remembers Okita-san shouting that she wouldn’t be able to rip his hands off her, and he finds it sweet, albeit in a homicidal sort of way.
Kagura blinks, uncomprehending.
Sougo just turns away, surprised at the unexpectedly sharp insight coming from the other boy. It turns out that he was more than a glasses stand after all (‘I always was!’). He’d never let her stoop so low as to become a coward. He expected more from the person he swore he’d defeat. Him and no one else, and that meant he couldn’t let her lose to herself as well. But there was no other way to covey that besides through death threats – at least for him. He wasn’t like her Patsuan who could coax her with encouraging and gentle words. Even if that was what she wanted, that wasn’t what he could do. That wasn’t him, it wasn’t him at all.
She would always be too soft, and he’d always be too bloodthirsty.
“I can’t help it Pachi. He plays the bad guy role scarily well. Who orders a weapon of mass destruction on the black market like that, besides villains?”
“Kagura-chan…you are aware that you just called yourself a WMD right?”
“Now, now China,” he smirks, knowing his next words were sure to set her off, “Didn’t we promise we’d overthrow the Bakufu together? With the world’s strongest weapon, and a first-rate assassin, if the both of us ever ended up on the dark side, Edo wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Shinpachi shudders at the mental image that paints, while Kagura is still deciding whether that was a backhanded compliment or insult. She decides she doesn’t care and launches herself at him with a feral grin on her face to start a fight for old time’s sake.
They don’t use weapons because neither of them wants to anger anego, but he relishes the challenge and welcomes her with a punch aimed at her smiling face.
then
If only Shinpachi was right and he’d only been pretending. However, enemies in the dark were always harder to deal with than enemies who came at you straight up. In that sense, peacetime was more treacherous than war time. Leeches would always exist, and back then the work of rebuilding the country took its toll on everyone. With its boss gone, the Oniwabanshu by itself couldn’t keep up with everything that needed to be done.
Hijikata-san had sacrificed his position. Kondou-san had sacrificed his love. They both had sacrificed what was most important to them and not for something as abstract as a country, but so that they could repay a debt, and for the hope that they as the Shinsengumi could fight by their side once more. Okita Sougo was the Captain of the First Division. He could do no less.
“Are you sure about this?” Nobume had sat behind the Commander General’s Chair with a weight on her shoulders. Despite the dirty work he knows is ahead of him, he still infinitely prefers it to being in her place.
“Why’re you asking now? Didn’t you suggest it, because it was me?” The both of them know that neither Kondou-san nor Hijikata-san could be stained. Precisely because of their shared understanding (I know what you are in the dark), she could order him to do this.
She peers at him, as if trying to dissect him. Sougo doesn’t let anything show. “You could have gone with either of them, and yet you chose to remain here. It doesn’t have to be you per se. Lord Matsudaira could hire assassins if he had to.”
Sougo could say that it was because it was his turn to fulfill a promise. She had gone, so it was his turn to stay. And he wouldn’t budge an inch from here, no matter what it cost him. If the boss and glasses were still scattered by then, she’d need someone to welcome her home - not that she’d appreciate it, that brat. Instead he says, voice void of emotion, “I have some lost kids to look after. Even if I’m wearing the mafia’s uniform now, it’s just a change of clothes. We can’t have our hooligan cops abandoning their duty now can we?”
Something flickers on her face. It could almost be called a smile. Almost carelessly she says, “I do not trust you the best of times, especially with neither your sheath nor target here. How about it? Do you want to let off steam with me once in a while?” She flicks up her hilt to ensure he wouldn’t misunderstand what she meant.
Not that he would have. He raises a brow at that. Part of him is insulted that she thought he was a mindless animal who would easily lose control if he couldn’t go all out once in a while. And anyway, that wasn’t how they worked. They fought because they were once on opposing sides. They had fought with the serious intention to kill. Briefly he thinks of stall games, and beetle fights, snowball fights and video games. For some reason, such silly days seemed so far away. He shakes his head. “No thanks. If I fought my superior, you’d probably slash my salary or something.” Forget that he used to regularly try and kill his superior every day.
A ghost of a smile steals across her face. She returns her sword back to its sheath, and turns away from him to look at the Edo night sky. The moon is particularly bright tonight. “I see. With your sheath and target gone, you don’t look like you have much life at all,” Sougo never felt uneasy but he wonders where she was going with this. She turns her head slightly at him. “I miss her too, and the Princess does as well. Hopefully with Katsura’s plan, we can once again see the familiar sight of those three causing chaos.” Despite him having refused her offer for a duel, why does it feel like she’d punctured his throat with her sword?
But well really, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is for such words to come out of her mouth. After all, there were three who had dragged themselves from the ground, limped and crawled, bruised, battered, and broken. He remembers a small body putting itself in harm’s way. He remembers with perfect clarity that look that had been on her face, so achingly sad and so full of wisdom. Someone as young as her shouldn’t have seen the things that she did. But he wasn’t that much older either, and neither was his opponent, and despite their youth, they had still seen and done fucked up things in this fucked up world. The world was no less harsh to the young than it was to the old.
He understands with painful clarity, though he doesn’t want to, that she had also been a sheath for the woman in front of him.
He leaves her office without another word.
The Commander General couldn’t have been more wrong. She’d thought that he would lose control surrounded by blood, but all he felt was…empty.
The killings had been routine. Taking lives had almost been pathetically easy.
He’d been surprised when the rest of the Shinsengumi decided to go with him. They could have also gone with Hijikata-san back to the country. It would have been familiar. It would have smelt and felt like home. Instead by sticking with him, all they smelt was blood.
With his reliable sketchpad, Shimaru nii-san had explained.
‘Our friends will be back soon, and the Shinsengumi will reunite again.’
‘In the mean time, we didn’t want you to feel even more lonely, Sougo-kun.’
‘We were worried about you.’
‘You don’t look like you’re having fun.’
The last one had been followed by a page full of ellipses. Sougo had waved Shimaru nii-san and his worried eyes away, although he did appreciate the company. Here he was, living a perverted version of his dream, at the top leading the Shinsengumi, and all he felt was hollow. It was only the knowledge that they were doing this for something bigger than themselves that kept him going. No way was he going to lose to Hijikata.
In moments of weakness, he’d take out his flip phone. As part of modernizing the force, Lord Matsudaira had offered to upgrade their phones to MEPhones, but he didn’t take up the offer. He preferred his old, red one. It was adequate enough when he had to coordinate and communicate with Kondou-san, or Hijikata-san when they had to share information, and most importantly he had the pictures he had stored there.
There was one folder where he stored all the pictures he took of aneue, when they spent the day together with Danna. His only regret was they had been too poor to afford phones when he was younger, and so he didn’t have any photos of aneue back then, when she’d been healthier. It probably wouldn’t have mattered though since he was still a coward who couldn’t go through those photos despite the years that passed.
There were various photos of people and animals of Edo in different states of humiliation. Those gave him great comfort, especially those photos where he’d successfully executed a make-Hijikata’s-life-miserable plan successfully. He had plenty of when the Demon Vice-Chief was in his Otaku Toshi phase. Ah, good times. He was starting to regret deleting the picture of Danna doing dogeza though.
It wasn’t all bad. There were also cute pictures of cats (after he tortured them by withholding food from them) here and there.
They were plenty of pictures of the Shinsengumi, in various states of inebriation. He’d lingered on one with Kondou-san, Hijikata-san, and Itou. There were even some photos from the hanami and the janken-pon tournament.
He scrolled back and forward thinking that he must be more sentimental than he’d thought, before stopping at one particular picture. His mood sours. It was that picture of China grinning victoriously at the camera, with him and their opponent underfoot. How dare she turn him into an M? She was the worst team mate ever. She had probably injured him more than their opponent at the time.
It had escaped him them, and still does now, to just delete the photo. Instead he had used it as motivation for vengeance. Every time he’d defeat her or get a chance to humiliate her (far too few times for his liking because she gives as good as she gets, as his b*lls can attest), he’d take a picture. Each one he scrolls through gives him great joy (some of his favorites are from when he planned her funeral, that had been a blast) until he gets to one of those that had given him the greatest feeling of victory.
She had been smiling foolishly, twirling a paper umbrella different from her usual one. She’d been so silly posing in front of glass windows, as if just begging to be made fun of. And yet, despite the sadist that he was, he hadn’t gone to her, because he knew that if he had, they would just go back to their usual routine, and that rare smile would be off her face faster than she could say, ‘Do-s’. And so he had hung back, and yet some impulse had driven him to dig out his phone and zoom-in to capture a picture of her face. She must have been so out of it that she didn’t notice his presence nor the flash.
He looks at that photo now. It was a smile he’d never seen from her before, because it was one she’d never direct at him. Looking at it, you would never know that she was an alien who could level mountains and break bones. You would never know that she was a crass gorilla. You would never know that she waded through blood and defeated enemies that grown men would run from. She just looked like a normal, happy, young carefree girl, on a day out with her beloved dog.
He considers it a victory because it felt like he had taken something from her right from under her nose, for his to keep. It didn’t matter that it’s a smile she’d never show to him willingly – a smile reserved only for her closest family – because he had it here in the palm of his hand. It didn’t matter that looking at it for too long made something in the vicinity of his chest hurt like nothing else, not even by getting run through by a sword. Che, it was probably just heart burn from eating too much tabasco.
Two years stretch by too long, and yet pass by in a blink of an eye.
Of course she doesn’t smile at him (not that he’d expect her to), but he can’t seem to wipe the one on his face.
Later, when Shimaru nii-san is patching up his injuries, he holds up his sketch pad for him to read:
‘You look like you’re having a blast, Sougo-kun’.
now
Those slight changes don’t take forefront and center of his mind. There are far too many important things to do – like assassinating Hijikata-san. And yet they simmered like small annoyances. He feels a bit off kilter as if he’d failed to do something in his schedule – like assassinating Hijikata-san.
The changes surrounding them don’t just come from him and her, but even from the people around them. He would never show his thoughts on his face, but he was irked at how everyone had started treating her differently all of a sudden, just because she grew up a little.
He had been on a regular patrol with Hijikata-san, when they came across Danna and China. She’d been pouting and whining about getting Danna to buy something for her with Danna refusing because “We don’t even have enough money for food because you went through puberty!”. She had been simultaneously clinging to him and trying to pulverize him before clasping her hands and showing him teary eyes, and whining, “But Gin-chaaaaaan……”
“Oh no you don’t. You’re ten years too early to be trying feminine wiles on me.”
Because she was being a general menace society, clinging and whining like that, he felt it was only right for him to do his civic duty and take her away from Danna so he could arrest her. Just as he was about to call a vulgar insult, something about how she looked like a cow with all her snot running down her nose like that, he hears a sigh from beside him.
“Oi, Kagura.”
To say he was shocked was an understatement. The same surprise seemed to have been reflected in Danna’s face as well, but China had only turned to their direction while sniffling.
“Stop being such a cheapskate you perm-head. It’s only 300 yen right? Isn’t it her birthday soon?” For Hijikata’s part, even if it was only for a while, he had spent time as the Yorozuya’s leader. In that sense he felt some responsibility towards them. Try as that overprotective permhead might to deny it, those nostalgic backs were getting broader and taller. They wouldn’t be kids forever, and as fellow samurai who had fought by his side, he would treat them with the respect they deserved.
With that resolve, Hijikata nods self-assuredly to himself, before he feel an enormous force barrel into him, knocking his cigarette, breath, and most likely his soul out from him. “Yay, thank you Toshi! Looks like you’re more than a useless mayora after all, yes?”
“Oi.”
While the once China girl, and now young woman, skipped happily to buy the childish hair clip she was prattling on about, Hijikata was forced to dodge as he felt a bokuto try to hit him. Unfortunately, because of that, he failed to evade the bazooka blast from behind.
“Ehhh. Not only is Hijikata-san a useless, good-for-nothing, cigarette-brain-addled, mayonnaise-ingesting, pile of sh*t, he’s also a useless, good-for-nothing, cigarette-brain-addled, mayonnaise-ingesting, pile of sh*t lolicon.”
Sougo looked normal, but Hijikata had enough otherworldly experience to notice a dark aura seemed to be surrounding him. Lucky or not, he might not be able to make it out alive this time around, especially with the other member of the sadist combi at his back.
“I’ve told Kagura time and time again. Men are scum. What’re you doing bribing her for, huh? Want her to be a tax robber like you? You a fetishist or something Oogushi-kun?”
He’d had enough. They were being too harsh for what Hijikata thought was just a good deed.
As Hijikata-san argued with the perm head that he wouldn’t have to do that if only he paid his employees on time, and as Danna replied with equal the vitriol, and even more volume, that it helped children build character if you didn’t spoil them and could the tax-robber not interfere please, Sougo noticed China exiting the store wearing a new bunny hairclip with a happy-go-lucky smile on her face. As much as the annoyance he was feeling pushed him to get into a fight with her so that he could accidentally destroy it in the scuffle (oops), something in her smile made him stop.
He just settled with calling it childish, and insulting her taste in gross old men, and getting into a verbal sparring match, beside their still shouting companions, as everyone on the streets gave them a wide berth.
It looked like those small annoyances weren’t as small as he’d first thought and he’d have to do something about them, like say, oh, killing Hijikata-san.
The next time had been when he’d been by himself and he’d gone over to anego’s to retrieve the Shinsengumi’s pet gorilla, ehem, Commander. He’d come across Kondou-san, with China and the glasses. It was an unusual trio to be sure, so he went over to them to ask what they were doing.
“I was just helping my brother-in-law-“
“Who’s your brother-in-law?!”
“-with writing another letter for his pen pal!”
Sougo racked his brain for a brief spark of memory. “Oh that one-shot, suicidal, megane girl? The one that looked like she could be glasses’ gender bend version?”
Shinpachi looked reproachfully at him. “Her name is Kirara-san, Okita-san.”
Shinpachi sighs like some sort of failed shoujo manga hero. “I don’t even know if Kirara-san likes me. And there’s also Pandemonium-san and Otsuu-chan to think about.”
China looks at the glasses stand unimpressed, and he’s sure the look must also be mirrored on his face. “Oi Patsuan, get out of your delusions for a second. The closest this anime has to a harem protagonist is Gin-chan.”
“The anime is over, so can’t you let a young boy dream for a minute?!”
China spits. “Tsk. Cherry boy.”
“Oi!”
Sougo can’t fully tune in to their conversation, since he’s staring at the hairclip China is still wearing. He wonders if he can convince her it had a mayonnaise curse on it or something.
Just as he was musing about how he’d say that she’d get infected by the mayonnaise virus the longer she wore that thing, the glasses stand tries to catch his attention.
“Ano, Okita-san,” he says slightly unsure, “Urara-san also wanted to ask how you were doing.” Well to be honest, she had written ‘master’, but no way was Shinpachi going to say that out loud in front of the sadistic prince.
To be honest, Shinpachi had always been slightly jealous of Okita-san. Despite them being near the same ages, he was already a prodigious swordsman nearly on par with Gin-san. He still remembers having to be saved from Utsuro. He sighs deeply. With looks, skills, and money, Okita-san didn’t look like the type of person who would ever have love problems. The world could be so unfair sometimes.
And yet despite thinking that, Shinpachi observes how Okita-san suddenly stills, and looks at him. It must be Shinpachi’s imagination that he looks like he’s studiously avoiding looking at Kagura-chan’s direction. He makes no move to take the letter in Shinpachi’s hand.
Kagura-chan purses her lips in a picture of disgust. “Even if I think any girl must be dumb and brain-dead to end up liking you, and even if I know you’re scum of the earth, you sadist bastard, I hope you wouldn’t end up falling so low as to be a scummy bastard that would ignore his girlfriend, yes?”
Okita-san’s hair hides his eyes, so it’s hard for Shinpachi to guess at what he’s thinking when he says, “Why do you think she’s my girlfriend?”
Kagura-chan only blinks innocently in response. “Because Shinpachi told me the story, yes? And I also exchanged letters with my boyfriend before, though we are only friends now.”
Shinpachi suddenly feels sweat falling down his neck for some reason, as Okita-san gazes at him with an inscrutable glare, before he feels a hard slap on his back.
As if to dispel the strange tension, Kondou-san laugh uproariously. “My, my, first Shinpachi-kun, Sougo, and even China-san talking about boyfriends and girlfriends? It’s like the three of you have grown up so fast.”
Sougo shrugs off Kondou-san’s friendly arm on his shoulder. “She’s not my girlfriend Kondou-san, and you,” he says while poking Kagura on the forehead, “Don’t go making assumptions now.”
Kondou-san and he leave the two Yorozuya members, especially China, looking bewildered.
“My bad, Sougo,” Kondou-san says sheepishly while rubbing at his neck. He raises a brow, silently asking what Kondou-san was apologizing for.
“I’m serious about Otae-san, so I realized that I have to treat her family members like family too. It’s not just Shinpachi-kun. Though they aren’t related, I know Otae-san loves that girl like the sister she never had.”
Sougo doesn’t respond, and just waits for Kondou-san to get to the point.
He twiddles his fingers, and to see such a grown gorilla do such a thing is such an image gap that Sougo has to look away in second-hand embarrassment. “I was thinking of calling China-san, ‘Kagura-san’,” there it is again, that unexplainable lurch that Sougo feels, “She’s now a young lady after all. But as it turns out, I couldn’t do it. I thought you wouldn’t like it since you were the one to call her China.”
Kondou-san looks at him as if expecting to be rebuked, but it’s now Sougo’s turn to be bewildered. “Kondou-san what should it matter to me what you call her? Whether I call her China or not, or pig, or miss piggy, or idiot woman, or ugly,” Kondou-san’s face ashens at hearing the list of unflattering names, “shouldn’t matter to anyone either.”
Kondou-san looks like he wants to say something else, but for once is tactful, and refrains. The rest of the walk back to the compound is noticeably silent.
The third time is with China herself.
He ends up meeting her at their bench. At first it had only been his, his regular bench where he’d sleep after a hard day’s work, and yet before he knew it, his bench had somehow become theirs.
Something is wrong with the China girl. That much he can tell. By now she would have already shot him or tried to swat him away with her umbrella. Part of him hopes that she’s not suddenly so mature now as to be above their petty fights, he thinks in disgust. He sees her with her parasol being supported on her shoulder as she curls, her arms loosely around her legs she’s brought up to her chest. Those damnable slits expose her legs and she’s still wearing that damnable hair clip. For once her hair isn’t tied up in her p*nis sheaths, but instead left loose and long.
He holds his breath. Part of him thinks that it isn’t China sitting there, she looks far too different from the girl he’s familiar with, the girl he grew up with, and that thought doubles when she looks up at him with such a sad look in her eyes.
He pokes her with his sheath with enough force for her to fall off the other end of the bench, before he places himself on the other end of it. As expected, that lost look disappears from her eyes, and she shouts expletives at him, about where he could shove his ‘sword’, preferably in a blender, and if he’d like, she’d be kind enough to do it for him.
“A pig like you shouldn’t cry. You’d look even uglier than usual.” It doesn’t matter that he’ll never be one of those people she’d be vulnerable enough to let her tears show. That’s how he prefers it. If he can help it, he doesn’t want to ever see her look sad, lost, or unsure in front of him. Troubled sure, especially because he was the one to push her buttons, but still full of fire, and with that overinflated ego and bow-down-to-me attitude.
“I wasn’t going to cry, yes?” She rubs at her head with a scowl, and sits next to him in the same position. Softly, she asks him, “Hey Sadist, I haven’t changed that much, yes?”
He inclines his head to show her he was listening. There were so many things he could say, instead he snorts, “Of course not. Didn’t I say we were the same as ever? You’re still the same ungraceful, vulgar, bratty China from back then.”
Despite the insult, for some strange reason unbeknownst to him, she smiles, “And you’re still that annoying, pervert Chihuahua, yes?” She sighs before continuing. “Some of my friends have become so weird. They don’t play with me anymore, or if they do, they look at me weirdly.” Some of his unexpected anger must breach his usual nonchalant face, because she smiles and says, “Don’t worry, I break their wrist when they try to touch me. Like you did. I still haven’t forgiven you for that by the way,” she huffs.
He smiles wryly in response, “I said sorry for that, didn’t I?”
“You didn’t actually.”
“Well, then I’m sorry.” She looks at him suspiciously at his unexpected show of maturity. She must be wondering what the catch was. There was nothing. He just wanted to hear her talk. And so she does, about someone called Yocchan, playground bully turned stuttering admirer, and someone called Hisashi, and from her voice, he can tell she’s fond of the boy. She is annoyed at her playmates fighting over her, and shares what her ex-boyfriend Dai-chan once said, that love meant wanting to keep someone to oneself. She doesn’t understand a selfish love like that. He thinks that’s because she had a selfless nature.
Because he himself is a selfish person, he perfectly understands the words of someone he’s never met, but instantly loathes. He can’t pretend not to know what the wrenching feeling in his chest is - not anymore.
They talk until the sun sets, and it’s peaceful, and it’s calm. It’s a change in their usual routine, but one he finds he doesn’t mind.
“Hey Sadist, you said we were the same as ever. Promise me you won’t change.” And what else could he say to that, especially when she’d shot him an uncharacteristically (at least for him) sweet smile.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, already feeling that something like his heart was sinking.
He looks away, but jumps slightly in surprise when he feels her fingers go through his bangs. “Did you cut your hair?” She asks curious, not even having an inkling of what he’s feeling. Such a hypocrite this girl, asking him not to change, but being the one to act out-of-character instead. He hates growing up.
“Keep your paws off me, you gorilla,” he says, while pinching her cheeks. He’s grateful for the excuse. He thinks they’re unbelievably soft. He’d thought so before, and he still thinks so now, only now he has this wild thought of biting one to see if it’d be softer than dango. (He thinks they would be, and more delicious too.) Before he becomes a full-blown cannibal, he takes the chance to run his finger through her hair, and ‘accidentally’ displaces her hair clip (oops), and because she asked him not to change, he pulls violently to signify the beginning of another fight.
Master procrastinator that he is, he resolves to deal with all of these troublesome feelings later.
The fight had gone on longer than expected, well into the night, and because he’s not a complete bastard, he offers to escort her home.
Most people thought that he was empty-headed. Although that much was true, because he rarely said what was on his mind, he was often left to his thoughts. He’d struggled to identify what exactly about the situation had annoyed him so much.
As much as he pretended and let it fly over his head, he was self-aware enough to know that he was a selfish and jealous bastard. As much as he wanted things to have remained the same, he realizes it was him who had changed. He is disgusted at his own weakness. But perhaps, he has to admit, it’s not as if anything really had changed. It’s not as if his worldview of her had drastically become different.
Rather it was the changes in her that had forced him to confront himself. She’d still fight and make fun of him in equal measure. If he attacked, she’d retaliate. She’d never give in to him, he knew that. But in the same way these two years hadn’t been kind to him, it had also taken its toll on her. Somehow she’d realize the importance of closely grasping what was important to her, and so despite her tendency to still ingest an unholy amount of food, despite that she still butchered the language, and smeared snot all over the place, she had matured in the ways that counted. The feud between the Yorozuya and Shinsengumi would always be there, but somehow something had shifted and she’d come to consider them part of her expanding definition of family. And so she’d become softer, with everyone, and not just him. In other words, he wasn’t special. He sometimes hated that part of her. No matter how many years passed, she would always be too soft.
She’d matured while he had not. He felt as if he was left behind and two years had gone by without him. Even if he’d never admit it, he appreciated the changes, but it wasn’t the change he wanted. As he said, he was a selfish bastard. He didn’t want those changes to be for everyone – only him. As he’s also said, he was a jealous bastard. He’d wanted to keep aneue to himself, so was it any surprise that this was no different?
He hasn’t changed at all from the eighteen-year-old brat who first met her. He still wanted her only for himself. Only then he had just wanted to defeat her. Whoever said that with age comes wisdom had it right on the money. And yet he still wanted to kill that bastard anyway. Because if growing up was the reason he realized he wanted more, Hijikata-san didn’t have to say anything, he’d commit seppuku himself.
Therein lie the crux of his problem. She was too honest for her own good. Everything showed on her face. To him, she was an open book. That was why he could tell when she was faking dying, or faking being her daughter, or clone, or whatever. It was the rest who was weird. How could they not tell something so obvious? Especially from a little hellion like her, her schemes were plain as day to see. And because he can read her, he can tell that this is exactly what she wants. She didn’t want more. She wanted the same.
She stops in the middle of the street. Annoyed at his increasingly turbulent thoughts, he wants to call out to her to hurry up and that he didn’t have all day to escort lost kids, but instead his voice dies in his throat.
She gazes at the full moon. Alone she basks in the light. Her skin looks like it’s absorbing the glow.
She’s always looked human, but here, in this moment, he’s afraid to blink because if he does, he thinks she’ll just vanish like some celestial maiden. The wounds from their fight already look like they’re fading, and he feels like swallowing bile. Soon nothing will exist on her skin to prove his existence, to prove that he was ever a part of her life. Meanwhile, she is permanently etched into his body in each of his scars dealt by her. Each one is a story he can read perfectly in the dark.
A strange panic overtakes him. For some reason, he thinks if he doesn’t say something now, she’ll disappear among the stars, just like she did two years ago, with him none the wiser.
He thanks kamisama his voice doesn’t shake when he shouts, “Oi, you think you’re a werewolf or something? Fat chance. I think being a piggy is the best you can do.”
Broken out of her strange spell, she looks at him scowling. And yet her eyes still look as blue as the night sky.
Sougo is starting to get confused as to who exactly between them is the wolf or the rabbit, because her eyes as they alight upon him devours, and oh he must be moon drunk too because he thinks he wouldn’t mind being consumed by that gaze.
...
Chapter Text
then
The Mafia would of course have dealings with the Black Market. He swallows his distaste at dealing with pirates, not necessarily because of the work, because he wasn’t exactly one to talk, but because he was reminded of another air-headed pirate. And thoughts of that villain inevitably brought up thoughts of her.
Just his luck that he ended up dealing with another Yato. He must have an affinity for them, huh.
“How could you tell?” The Vice-Captain, and now temporary Commander of the Kaientai, had first asked suspiciously.
He just gestures to her overly large straw hat with his hands in his coat pockets. “I’ve had my fair share of dealings with Yato.”
She raises a brow at that, but he doesn’t deign to satisfy her curiosity during that first meeting. She eventually finds out what or who exactly he’s looking for. She was bound to, considering how often he followed up on his order for ‘The Strongest Weapon in the Universe’.
“You’re persistent, I have to say. Reminds me of another idiot once upon a time. But no. My channels are open, but I haven’t caught word yet.” Blank as her face may be (the same as his actually), he can somehow tell the faint traces of amusement that color her tone.
He sounds almost bored when he asks. “Are all Yato always so annoying?”
“Curious about Yato?” He opts not to answer so she ends up continuing. “Careful though. You’d have to stake your life on the line when dealing with Yato women. Not even the Greatest Alien Hunter in the Universe stood a chance.” Mutsu doesn’t know why she’s saying all of this to someone she doesn’t know that well, only that he was looking for Kagura, and as the only other female Yato she knew, Mutsu felt that she had to look out for her.
The young man who was supposed to be the head of the mafia only shrugs, “I like to live dangerously.”
Part of Mutsu wants to wipe the cockiness out of him, and the floor with him too, but another part of her can’t help but be amused. Were all samurai this shameless?
“You said I reminded you of someone?” She thinks that he wasn’t the type to make small talk, and yet even if he’d never bring up Kagura by name, it seemed like he couldn’t help his curiosity.
Mutsu isn’t one to tell stories either, but she thinks with a bit of nostalgia that she had loved to hear them. Through this way, she had heard a fairytale about a goddess, dragons, and the adventurer who stole her away. Perhaps if she shared one of her own, then the samurai in front of her would share some of his. He seemed like he’d have interesting stories to tell. Part of her hopes to hear about Kagura.
“Yeah, another foolhardy samurai who thought he could buy a Yato, a ship, and a crew, with shells and stars.” She had been the same age as Kagura when she met that dreaming samurai who was around the same age as the young man in front of her. She’d been a pirate who trafficked humans, and he’d been a war veteran. Now kids who were as young as they were back then were assassins and weapons. No matter the era, war would never be kind, even to saplings.
As he listens to her story, Sougo wonders if she’s also fishing for someone among the stars like he is.
“What’ll you do once you receive your order?” Mutsu narrows her eyes. Some stories exchanged didn’t mean she trusted the man, especially with the safety of her former bodyguard and friend’s daughter. “Chain it down so you don’t lose it again?”
Wryly, he thinks of the irony. More like keep her in MyHome, behind bars.
Instead, he stares at her with unnerving intensity and says seriously, “Unfortunately, even if policemen have to arrest criminals, we’re not in a position to take away someone’s freedom like that.”
She has to quirk a smile at that. “You call yourself the mafia. You’re fine with killing, but you draw the line at human trafficking?”
He throws a sardonic grin her way as he waves, “I’m fine with slaves, but money wouldn’t let me tie down that weapon. Who knows? Maybe I can buy it with shells and stars.” Seamlessly, he melts into the shadows, and just like that he’s gone as if he was never there.
Mutsu sighs. It was always hard doing business with eccentric types like that. He wasn’t going to get out of it that easily. Kagura may accept shells and stars but Mutsu was making sure the Kaientei was paid full in cash. Wryly, she apologizes to Kagura in her thoughts. She’d have to deal with that fool on her own.
Now and again he finds himself in Yoshiwara. Because they were in the same line of work, the Mafia and the Oniwabanshu often had to coordinate together to ensure that they weren’t targeting the same people. And because the Commander-General had a strange fondness for the Courtesan of Death, she’d often send him to Yoshiwara to get ninja training. Although Yoshiwara was now a government-approved tourist site, history would show that no matter the era, pleasure districts would always be a hotbed of secrets.
He finds it interesting how so many people and groups who would have never met each other, much less work with each other, ended up having their threads of fate tangled, all because of one man. And it was because of that same man and his rag-tag family, that each one of them had ended up doing what they could, just to bring them all home.
The two female ninjas he meets often for training aren’t unfamiliar faces to him, although they never had a chance to interact this much before. He was even able to do SM play with one of them.
“If it isn’t Souko. How about it? Instead of assassination jobs, you could still come and work in Yoshiwara. With such a pretty face, I’m sure you’d still be a hit,” the once Shinigami Courtesan puffs leisurely at her kiseru. The light tone makes it clear that she’s joking.
“It’s Sougo,” he says deadpan. He didn’t think he’d have to do that whole shtick here. He often went to the SM clubs here, but even that started to get boring after a while.
With no particular thoughts in mind, he finishes his dango as he waits for the information for his next assignment. Despite the slight potshot, he doesn’t have it in him to go against the Shinigami Courtesan. They were both death gods, but the woman who was once Yoshiwara’s moon had finally entered into the light. In his case, the time wasn’t right yet. She had the same aura as anego’s that prevented him from messing with her. For some reason, he could never mess with the straightforward, honest types. Despite her profession, there was also a quiet dignity to her and in her gentle gaze that strangely reminded him of his late sister. As for the other one though…
“Although I admit you know your stuff, Gin-san is still a cut above! I won’t fall for your wiles. That was just a one-time thing. I’ll forever be Gin-san’s loyal sow.” It was hard to believe someone tied up in shibari could say that so proudly.
Sougo could say so many things like how he had a pair of handcuffs on him and if she’d like to test out that theory. Tsukuyo would have scolded Sarutobi and demanded that she at least do that in private, but the moment that name left her mouth, neither of them could say anything.
Even Sacchan was infected with the somber mood. With hesitation she asks, “Do you have any information about where he could be?”
Sougo shrugs. “Not a clue. Hijikata-san hasn’t seen hide nor permed hair yet either.”
“I see,” she mutters quietly, “…how about the other missing person, the former boss of the Oniwabanshu?”
When he doesn’t respond, the excited light leaves her eyes. They could pretend all they liked that everything was the same, but something would always be missing.
In her place, Tsukuyo responds. This was a place to gather and share information after all. “What about Kagura? Do you have any news? Shinpachi comes by from time to time. He’s putting up a strong front, but well…” Tsukuyo trails off. She doesn’t need to say that she can tell he’s pushing himself too hard, that she recognizes the signs, because she was like that as well.
Despite their quirks, both women were still kunoichi, so they could tell the minute change in breathing at the mention of Kagura. Despite that, the voice that responds is blank, “No idea.”
Silence befalls the group.
“Honestly, they should come home already. There are so many people who miss them.” Tsukuyo glances at the spot the pensive young man was occupying. She misses the sight of silver hair, of a useless man enjoying dango in that same spot. She misses the sight of lively red hair, and calming brown. She misses seeing all three of them together, none complete without the other.
Sougo sits in silence. To the other two, he might look almost apathetic. Inside he thinks, that this limbo was annoying. He was never an M, so why was it that he was like the two lovelorn ninja beside him. Why had he been stuck waiting?
Upon getting the information he needs from the M ninja, he immediately prepares to leave before being stopped by the Shinigami Courtesan, “As thanks for your information, you can have any of our services for free. How about it? As Sarutobi can attest, the SM clubs here don’t disappoint.”
He smirks, “Would you happen to have a red-headed Yato pig? Swears like a sailor, and with the ugliest face. If you had a girl like that, I’d probably think about it.”
Tsukuyo smiles with a tinge of melancholy, “Sadly Mr. Customer, that kind of a girl is one of a kind. You won’t be able to find her here.”
He shrugs. “Looks like I don’t have a choice. I’ll have to drag her down from the stars myself then. I’m sure she’d be perfect bait to rail in the person you’re waiting for too.”
As Sacchan fan girls about Gin-san, while Tsukuyo splutters and blushes, he takes his leave and lets out a whistle. Danna really was a stud.
now
For some reason, he remembers the memory upon seeing the familiar sight of Danna pushing away a purple-haired ninja trying to kiss him. He notices Shinpachi ignoring the sight, while China hugs, or more like chokes, Danna from behind. He had trained with the Oniwabanshu for some time, so he notices another presence near them, nonchalantly reading Jump while sucking on a grape chuubert.
The sight should make him feel content – and it does. This is what they fought for after all. And yet, he doesn’t know if it’s the heat, the sight of a grape chuubert, or her face flushed pink with laughter, or a combination of all three, that pisses him off.
He avoids making contact with them and steals into a convenience store to escape the heat, or if he was being honest, the sight. It looks like it was his lucky day, because there was still a pack of grape chuuberts left, but upon grabbing it, someone also places their hand on the pack almost at the same instant.
He engages in a stare-off with the once boss of the Oniwabanshu. Or was he the boss again? Sougo doesn’t care, only that he has his hands on his pack of chuuberts.
“Hey Captain-san, I had my hands on these first. Get the soda-flavored ones instead.”
Maybe it was his naturally competitive spirit coming out, or maybe he’s irked facing the person who got the drop on him from right under his nose. It doesn’t matter that they had actually been on the same side, or that it was staged, or that he’d likely saved Sougo by brandishing the fake Shogun’s head around. If it had been real, Sougo would live with the knowledge that he failed to protect what he needed to protect because he wasn’t good enough and someone had been better than him. Ultimately it’s a moot point. They both failed at protecting what mattered. They all did.
“Oh, so you don’t consider this a pointless fight?”
Zenzou raises a brow, not that it could be seen through his shaggy mane of hair, at the slight hostility he detects. Why bring that up now, after all this time? It’s got to be more than that. He tracks the Captain’s unconscious gaze to the chaos outside the convenience store that could be seen through the window. Despite that, Zenzou’s confusion only increases. How did this kid know Sarutobi, and what did that have to do with anything?
It had nothing to do with the Shogun. It’s just that Sougo finds himself really irritated with men who leave their loved ones behind.
As if answering his unspoken question, the sadist in front of him smirks, goading, “We have compatible interests. She’s my type you could say. If I went after her, would you also back off?”
Zenzou sighs, the grape chuuberts left forgotten. “She wouldn’t give you the time of day, kid. And types and interests mean jack-shit when faced with the real thing. Trust me I know, and” he peers into the stoic face in front of him, “something tells me you know that too.”
Sougo takes his chance to take the pack, but it feels like a hollow victory, with the ninja in front of him psychoanalyzing him.
“Maybe if you’re older-whoops-,” Zenzo flips to avoid the sudden sword slash, “As I was saying,” he continues from his perch on the cashier stand, ignoring the cowering cashier boy, “Maybe when you’re older, you’ll realize that there’s more to protecting and caring about something than keeping it to yourself.”
Sougo scoffs. “Those just sound like the words of a coward. How can you say you’ve protected something, when you won’t even fight for it?”
“Maybe,” Zenzo agrees, “But emotions are a lot more complicated than that. Caring about someone doesn’t mean putting your wants above their own. As for being a coward,” he throws the younger man a mean smirk, “I guess it takes one to know one. Now what or who are you really angry at Captain-san? Because I sure as hell know it isn’t me.” In a whiff of ninja smoke, he disappears, leaving Sougo stewing.
If only either of them had looked outside, they would have noticed a pair of blue and purple eyes peer inside with concern.
China’s birthday is a week-long celebration. Sougo guesses it’s one of the perks of being besties with the Prime Minister of their country. He guesses, if her funeral was such a grandiose affair, then her birthday could be no less. They celebrate in Yoshiwara with free-flowing sake all around.
He can’t hold his drink at the best of times, but he had to admit that he’s out of control now. He doesn’t know if it’s the sight of her in a dainty blue kimono (Red, he thinks blearily, would suit her so much better), with her face made up delicately and lips painted a soft pink. Even if she was horrendous at making herself look pretty, and she lived with poor excuses of the male species, she had enough older sister figures that it wasn’t completely hopeless. She really was loved.
Or maybe it was the slight downcast look in her eyes when he announced that he couldn’t be bothered to spend money on a gift for a pig, not even bringing a single dr*gon ball this time around, before he said he’d consider it if she kneeled and begged like a good slave, and she sucker-punched him, formal kimono or no.
Dizzily, he makes his way over to Danna who was drinking with the Kaientai Captain and Katsura. Danna’s clearly sloshed, but Sougo isn’t that much better. He hiccups, “Danna, I ought to arrest you for conver-cavort-for playing around with rebels, that or for being a disgusting lolicon and living with a young girl under your roof.” He manages to slide his way down to a seat next to him.
“SHADDUP SODA-KUN!” Gintoki hiccups as well. His eyes are already bloodshot, and he’s on the second to the last stage to blackout drunk. “Under what law huh? It’s not my fault they grow up so fast.” He finds his eyes getting teary, but that’s probably just the alcohol.
Sougo has his wits about him, but only barely. “Unmarried young women shouldn’t live with unmarried men,” he recites automatically, a barely remembered lesson from his aneue, “So there’s only one way to resolve this if you don’t wanna get arrested, Danna.”
Gintoki looks at him seriously in his drunk state, as if prepared to do it. Sougo glances slyly at the Shinigami Courtesan who only raises a questioning gaze at him. “Either you get married,” the beer Gintoki had been drinking spews out and all over Sougo’s hakama, “Or China does.” This time around, Gintoki doesn’t hold back and barfs all over him, but even the disgusting display doesn’t hold Sougo back. As he’s said, he can’t hold his drink, so he won’t be accountable for his next words.
Gintoki could almost say the next logical words that follow, ‘What, to you?’, but he doesn’t want to give the brat an opening.
Sougo, if he was in his right mind, would have enough faculties to deflect and say that he didn’t say anything about him being the one to marry China, but instead prepares a case for how she was already of the legal marrying age in Edo, and how it’d save Gintoki thousands in money and tax benefits, before he’s interrupted by an obnoxious laugh.
“AHahHAhahaha, lemme tell you son. Back away now when you have the chance. I can tell you from firsthand experience, Yato women’ll drive you to the cups. You can’t handle ‘em.” Gintoki only smashes Tatsuma’s head into the table to hurry him along to the blackout stage. He’d tie him nice and pretty for Mutsu later so he could get payment.
“I forgot what I was going to say.”
“Listen Sofa-kun-“
“It’s Sougo, Danna.”
“If this is some twisted attempt so that you can fight her crazy brother, and baldy father, there are less painful ways, for you, and more importantly for me.”
Drunk as he was, Sougo could manage a deadpan look well enough, before he sighs wistfully, “Hey Danna, how are you supposed’ta catch the moon?”
Though Gintoki tries not to, he can’t help when his gaze catches on blonde hair that shines golden in the moonlight, and a beautiful face. She was laughing and smiling tonight, a rare sight that brings a smile to his own. Seeing Kagura fully enjoying herself only intensifies the warmth, before he catches Sougo’s gaze on the same sight.
He wants to be angry and be in overprotective papa wolf mode, but he was too buzzed for it. Instead, he drawls, “I’m the last person you should be asking about that Souichiro-kun. Men like you and me, we can’t do it like usual, when it really counts.”
Sougo only absorbs the words with a blank look before smiling foolishly, “Does that mean we’re gonna be eternal bachelors then?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna die surrounded by grandkids.”
Upon seeing the younger man open his mouth, Gintoki beats him to the chase, “If you say something like you’ll get grandkids if Kagura gives birth, you’ll find your face quickly introduced to Lake Touya.”
Sougo gives a shit-eating grin which proves that was exactly what he had in mind. Gintoki groans. “It just figures that Kagura would attract bubblegum-chewing, rude delinquents. At least you’re not a giant. And yet something tells me you’re more trouble than a hundred-feet tall titan. I bet ya don’t even know how to bow properly.”
Sougo could say he knew perfectly how to bow. The manners Mitsuba had instilled in him were still there somewhere. Instead he just snorts, “You don’t have to worry about that, Danna. I’m sure China’s type is the sweet and docile kind.” Or someone like you, but I don’t think I can measure up.
“You’re sounding a mighty tad bitter over there Okita-kun. Hero worship is one thing, but you don’t have ta copy your gorilla commander on the type of women you liked too. Do ya really wanna be with such violent women huh?! I’m starting to suspect you’re not really a sadist, but a masochist like that hentai kunoichi.” Gintoki bangs down his mug, and rants, “I shoulda known from the start. I mean why would someone like you get into that sh*tty video game. Only someone with blue b*lls who couldn’t get the girl they liked, virgins, or losers would be desperate enough.”
Sougo just raises a brow to get Gintoki to go over what he said.
“OI, EXCEPT ME. Gin-san isn’t a loser or a virgin.”
He lets out a deep sigh. Gintoki thinks he’s getting too old for this. “Although part of me wants to bury you in cement and push you in Edo Bay where no one can ever find you, I think your sister’d haunt me if I did that. And because you started this, I might as well listen to the ramblings of a fellow drunk.”
Danna had actually called him by name this time, which tells him more than anything else that he must really look pitiful right about now.
For some reason Gintoki couldn’t fathom, the sadistic captain seemed to look up to him. An awful decision really. For him as well as the other kids Gintoki had collected like gachapon over the years, Gintoki thought he was far from a good role model. Regardless, a useless adult was still an adult, and it was an adult’s responsibility to impart life lessons, even if they were to no-good sadists who were potentially trying to get into his daughter’s pants.
As if his filter was removed, and a dam had been opened, Sougo sloppily recounted everything.
“I’m used to hating and messing with Hijikata-san, but I hate feeling inferior to him for some reason. Why is that, Danna?”
“Trust me, anyone would hate feeling inferior to that mayo addict. But really it’s the same reason why I mispronounce your name all the time.”
“You’re making me blush, Danna. But don’t flatter me. You call Hijikata-san the wrong name all the time too. I’m not special.”
“No see, I don’t get along well with that guy. It makes sense for me to make fun of him. But we get along well enough since we’re pretty similar, and yet I still say yours with a snide undertone. See the difference?”
Sougo nods sleepily like he gets it.
Time passes as he rambles about how he can’t ask anyone in Edo, because all the men he knew were hopeless cases, till he was forced to ask Gintoki even though he didn’t want to.
“Can you imagine, Danna? Even Kondou-san looks like he has a better chance than the rest of us. Anego liked his food so much that he gets to go through the front door every other day.”
The thought does piss Gintoki off a bit. He unleashes his frustration on an inebriated and unaware Zura by stomping him to the ground. To think that a gorilla and a terrorist had the best chance at getting some tail compared to the rest of them made Gintoki feel slightly murderous, but he just chalks it up to the alcohol.
“And what d’ya want me to do about it Shogi-kun?”
“That isn’t even one of the names you called me in the anime anymore, Danna.”
For all that Gintoki jokes around, he can see from Sougo’s face that he’s waiting for a serious answer. Maybe it was the alcohol, but his usual bloody eyes just looked innocent and accepting.
Gintoki sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I really don’t know what advice I can give you. Only that love doesn’t depend on superficial characteristics. It’s more than your expectations and desires. It’s real and ugly. And it’s only when you know the ugliest parts of each other can you say that you love each other for real. You’re not always going to like how you feel. You may feel like you’re going too fast, or too slow, but there’s no need to rush.”
He pauses. Despite all that he’s said, he doesn’t think he has to emphasize that point. The both of them had already seen the worst of each other, amidst blood and vomit, broken bones, and perversion. If despite all that, he still wanted that gero-ine, and Kagura despite all that, still wanted this prince of sadists, who was he to stop them? He could only be there to guide them.
“The decision has to be hers, but even as I say that, she has to know that there’s a decision to be made in the first place. We’re only sadists because we’re insecure, but you have to put yourself out there. If she decides she’s not ready, do you think you can wait for her?”
Sougo stares at him seriously. It’s not just Shinpachi and Kagura who have grown but all of them. It does make him feel a bit lonely. “Danna, I waited more than two years for her. What’s a little more? But I’ll take your advice as well. Thanks.” Unsteadily he makes his way over to Kagura, and though he looks like a newborn fawn, Gintoki feels proud of him. That is until he opens his mouth-
“Hey China! I wanna put my xxxx in your xxxx!”
At Kagura’s dropkick rendering him unconscious, he could only face-palm. That was totally on him.
Sougo wakes up to the sound of snores. He feels something soft pillowing his head, and opens his eyes to a truly horrendous sight, that of China drooling all over him. He must still be drunk, because he can’t help but think her sleeping and open face was adorable. From his vantage point, he can count each individual eyelash. He really must be drunk to have such a loss of control over his limbs because he finds his fingers tracing over her cheek softly.
Suddenly her eyes open, before she narrows and stares at him as if to burn a laser through his forehead. “I know I’m gorgeous, but you don’t have to creepily stare like that, yes?”
He scoffs. “If gorgeous, you mean horrifyingly ugly, then yes. And you’re the one who took advantage of an unconscious man to do a lap pillow. Who knows what you’ve been doing with my virtue while I was asleep,” he pokes at her cheek and grins smugly.
She burns red. He half expects her to bang his head to the ground, but she continues to let him lie on her lap. It looks like they were in one of the rooms in Yoshiwara, and though the thought of them alone in a room here would normally warm him up in an instant, he notices they’re far from alone, with various members of the Yorozuya, Shinsengumi, Kabuki-cho, and her kinsmen in various sleeping positions scattered all around them. His hand suddenly itches for permanent marker.
She whispers something too low for him to hear, that he asks her to repeat it.
“I’m sorry, yes!” She whisper-shouts shrilly. “I did not know you were drunk. I shouldn’t have hit you. It’s almost as bad as hitting you while you were defenseless.”
They never had a problem playing dirty before, but he supposes like him, it didn’t sit right with her if they couldn’t fight each other all out. And that thought, despite everything that’s happened, everything that’s changed, does comfort him, because he knows that no matter what happens, whether China accepts him or not, that won’t ever change.
He knows she gave it her all to say that, so this time it’s his turn to be brave. “Heh, you did end up kneeling and being submissive for me, so I’ll count it.” He reaches into his kimono and draws out a long wooden box. “Here you go. A master has to reward his pet from time to time.”
As expected she smacks his forehead, but considering her strength, it’s more like a love tap than anything. She looks at the box with suspicion. “You said you wouldn’t spend money, yes?”
“I didn’t.” And Sougo was being honest. He didn’t have to spend a single yen, and yet what he’d given her was priceless. He can’t help but smile at her obviously pleased gasp.
She draws out a beautiful red kanzashi decorated with lilies. She extends it towards him, and beams. It’s the kind of smile he wants to take a picture of, before realizing that maybe he didn’t have to now, that maybe he could convince her to still smile like that for him from time to time in the future. “Put it on for me, yes?”
He makes a show of not wanting to get up. He really was quite comfortable here, before she shakes him silly and shouts at him to stop being lazy. If she continued, she’d wake everyone else up, and Sougo doesn’t want to leave this comfortable bubble where it was just her and him, just yet. “Tsk, so spoiled. No wonder Danna’s broke all the time.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, and huffs, “Everyone says the birthday girl must be spoiled, yes?”
He’s glad she’s facing front so she doesn’t see the indulgent smile on his face. Carefully, almost reverently he combs the strands of her fire-colored hair. Upon twisting it up and securing the bun with the kanzashi, he looks at his work with discerning eyes. Yup, he thinks, red really did suit her best.
She goes over to one of the table mirrors, before exhaling a soft gasp of surprise. “Wow, Sadist. This is beautiful. Where did you learn how to do this?” She touches her hair and the hairpin with wonder.
He shrugs, but remembers a young boy helping his older sister with her hair. “I knew I was good, but to be able to make a pig look like a girl, I must be a miracle worker or something,” he shakes his head with his shoulders raised. Though the words are biting, the tone is soft, which is why Kagura just scowls at him. She turns so that they’re kneeling face to face. Only the light from the moon illuminates them. As always, he has that smug look on his face, but maybe because it was him, the sight comforts Kagura anyway. “You should treat girls more delicately, yes? You’ll never get a good woman like this.” That’s a lie. Kagura knows he has plenty of women who’d fall at his feet if he wanted.
And yet, Sadist is here in this tiny space they’d created amidst all of their family members. He’s here with her. He raises a brow, before starting. Kagura expected another cutting remark. She doesn’t expect the sincere voice. Half of her thinks he was setting up another prank, but that thought flies out the window when he places both his hands on her rapidly warming cheeks. He smiles a boyish smile, not a sadistic or creepy one, and she could almost see why women and men alike would or could fall in love with him. She gulps, her heart beating out a staccato rhythm. “Alright then,” he says, caressing her cheeks softly, “Happy birthday, ojou-san,” he whispers in the space between them, and Kagura could almost swoon.
As one they turn to look at the moon together. Somehow or the other, with the both of them side-by-side like this, she feels warmth where his fingers fill in the gaps between hers, not quite interlacing but just there. “Next time you decide to explore the galaxy, drop me a line okay? If only so I can shoot my bazooka at your face for a proper send-off.”
And because he is who he is, and she is who she is, at his remark, they end up engaged in a childish thumb war, with the winner allowed to give an order to the loser. Sougo smirks ready for the challenge. If he won, he’d order her to wear a collar, or if she didn’t want to do that…maybe just kiss his cheek instead.
Photos of the past somehow comforted him. In the same way, that image of her he held inside, always waiting and laughing, unadorned, in that clean and unchanging place, was something he kept secret and close like an omamori when he and the Shinsengumi had been away. He’d expected to return to an Edo that was still the same, and to see her at her - no their - bridge (it was only fair, if she’d desecrate his sacred places, then he would too).
Even when they’d left, he could see the Shinsengumi amongst the sakura trees playing around with a couple of troublemakers. He’d see traces of those same troublemakers all over the streets of Edo. Although he’d never show himself, time and again, when he’d chance by and pass anego’s, he’d see the silhouette of a gorilla by the light poles, and a flash from glasses. If he frequented a certain diner, that was no one’s business, but his own. And anyway, the place had great alcohol, and free to boot, because without fail, he’d always put it on someone else’s tab – lucky for him that there were two open and running.
Going through a barricaded barracks, or through the streets of Kabuki-cho made his stomach churn enough to want to take a dump. And yet without fail, he’d pass by that same bridge, and see a purple parasol, and a cocky smirk, and he’d be left waiting, waiting, waiting, in the rain or for the sun to set.
Could it be called haunting if it was done by the living? He had carried enough ghosts on his back, and one in his heart. Was he really so bad that he also deserved to be haunted in his memories? He didn’t think he had already wracked up enough bad karma. (Hijikata-san would say otherwise, but when had he ever listened to him.)
And despite it all, he thinks those two years worth it. He doesn’t have to feel unbalanced by those changes because it meant that he’d no longer have to settle with stolen photos when he could take one of her smiling face directly (and kneeling on the ground, cut him some slack, he was still a sadist at heart). Because it meant that there was some hope, that some day, neither of them would have to wait anymore, and he could also be in that spot with her, in that clean and unchanging place, together.
As Sougo looks at their clasped hands, and her mercilessly squish his thumb with a scrunched up look on her face making her look like a constipated gorilla completely at odds with her elegant hairstyle and pin keeping it in place, as he decides to cheat (she wanted to play fair, but he had no such compunctions) and pull her in to land a tender kiss on her forehead, which eventually turns into a sloppy one so that he leaves a wet spot (he wouldn’t change all the way) so that he ends up tasting the warmth and redness of her blush, and eventual anger, he thinks, softly laughing, catching both her raised fists in his, that this – this was fine.
If Hijikata is shocked to see Mitsuba’s old hair pin on China at their next patrol, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to because his smug grin at Sougo’s reddening ears was enough for Sougo to blast him away with his bazooka. Die, Hijikata-san.
...
‘Remember, Sou-chan. Give this to someone special.’
‘How am I supposed to know, aneue?’
Mitsuba’s eyes twinkle as she looks at her beloved younger brother. ‘You just will.’
...