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Years ago, back during the war, Sakata Gintoki used to pass out after the last sword stroke and come to, hours later, in a field stained red from all the blood and up to his eyeballs in corpses. Odd, perhaps, how rather than freak out or cry or maybe turn around and kill something else, he’d pick himself right back up, spend the next hour rummaging around for survivors, and, whether he’d find someone or not, turn right back around and start the long walk back home. No need to think, no need to wonder if someone will be waiting for him at the gate, with a clean change of clothes and a bottle of sake. There’s always going to be someone still there for him in the end, he used to convince himself. There’s no way he’ll end up stumbling back to empty rooms and an empty table.
Every battle, though, meant more vacant spots at dinner, after he’s survived and come back to tell the tale. More graves to dig, more swords to thrust into the earth.
He abandoned the war before they ran out of space in the old school courtyard.
These days feel like a repeat of history. Gintoki doesn’t walk alone again – he’s never been this crowded in since he was still in school, in fact, because if Kagura isn’t harassing him about sukonbu, Shinpachi’s kicking him about the rent. They’re noisy, even at night: Kagura snoring in the closet, Shinpachi hanging on a little longer before heading back to his house, not-so-discretely doing vocal aerobics with sing-a-long videos of Otsuu concerts. They’re consistent, so consistent it’s annoying. So consistent that if there’s just one day where either one of them’s a little late to get back from a job, or off doing something else when they’re usually in, Gintoki finds himself looking for them before he can stop himself.
He never wanted to fall back into the old routine of expecting someone to watch his back during a fight or man the base until he returns – it’s easier to deal with loss and the inevitable departure if you never get attached in the first place and kick out who ever threatens to come close. As the days turn to weeks turn to months, however, after every job and every stupid hijink at the dinner table, Gintoki figures that maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe these two kids, irritating as they are, can stay.