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A figure in blood-soaked white gazed at the sky in mourning. He didn’t know what they had lost. Was it a loved one, their own humanity, or, maybe, their soul?
Everything was going so well –He had punished Yamazaki for playing badminton on duty (“Commit seppuku, Yamazaki!”), avoided Shougo’s daily attack and was about to head to a weekly meeting- until he saw Kondou-san smiling at him.
“Good Morning, Toshi!” A large bandage was covering his left cheek, probably making the act of smiling fairly painful, but that did not show on the wide stretch of his lips.
“Who did this, Kondou-san?” Hijikata uttered when he regained the ability to form coherent sentences. Kondou-san seemed confused for a second, before the vice-commander pointed at the swollen cheek. It was so swollen that the bandage looked just about ready to slip off.
“Ah… that. Well… there is this girl…” Kondou replied sheepishly, a blush could even be seen dusting his cheeks- the one not covered in bandages, at least. It was surreal to watch his powerful commander act like a grade-schooler with a crush. “And… I had a fight over her with this white-haired samurai…” he rubbed the back of his head, while averting his eyes. “But, uh, don’t worry about it, Toshi!” That smile was now blinding him head on. Hijikata really needed to invest in sunglasses. The leader of the Shinsengumi started explaining how that samurai tricked him to win, but “my heart shall never waver! Otae-chan will realize how in love with me she is and we’ll get married! Our markings resonated after all!” He laughed heartily.
Hijikata’s eye twitched.
The chaos of trying to find that white-haired samurai began soon after.
It was getting close to noon when Hijikata felt his markings crawl on his skin. He scoffed.
It wasn’t a completely unfamiliar sensation. He had felt it a few times over the years, ever since he had moved to Edo. He knew what it meant. Still, Hijikata chose to ignore it with all his might. Nothing would interfere with his work- not even the delusion that the concept of soulmates brought alongside it.
The image of Kondou-san acting like a 10-year-old came to mind. That was all the proof Hijikata needed to support his claim. Distractions could be deadly for everyone involved.
Hijikata was fully prepared to live his life without being a danger to people he cared about. That meant that someone who couldn’t protect themselves from the dangers that came with Hijikata’s life will be better off never meeting him at all.
He had ditched Shougo a little while ago, and he was now leaning against a wall, listening to the insistent sound of a hammer nearby. Fingers twitching for some nicotine, he took out a package that was widely recognized to be the source of his tobacco addiction, and took out a cigarette. Before he had a chance to light it, his marks started vibrating intensely, climbing out of his uniform’s neckline and onto his throat.
He couldn’t possibly be so close! He looked around, and finally noticed the ladder that connected the ground with the roof. The sound of one of the hammers banging on the roof halted abruptly and Hijikata knew that there was a person on that roof that could also feel the crawling of the markings. Against all rational thinking he ran towards the ladder. Before he could make it to the top he heard a deep, undoubtedly male, voice say a quick “I am taking a sick day” followed by the banging of heavy footsteps on tiles. When his feet also hit the roof, he could only see a figure jumping off the building and running away.
He had seen the same silver hair that had haunted his dreams for over 10 years. The man kept slipping between Hijikata’s fingers. Today was the second time.
Hijikata’s frown grew deeper, decreasing the space between his eyebrows. He finally pulled out the mayonnaise-shaped lighter from his pocket and lit up his source of addiction. Inhaling a deep drag, he let out a puff of smoke and turned to the stunned worker on the roof.
“Now.” He paused to make his voice sound semi-threatening “Why don’t you talk to me about your coworker?”
The thick vines, usually wrapped around his neck and shoulders, covering his skin like a dark blanket, uncurled and traveled down his left arm until they were twirled around his fingers like elegant gloves. The markings looked alive for the very first time, branches thicker at certain places and divining down to thin twigs that embraced his body like fine embroidery.
When he turned himself around, the branches immigrated down his right arm in the same fashion. At the very ends of his fingertips he could see a leaf growing in the direction that his markings were pointing at. It felt like his very skin would have vibrated off his flesh had he not started to walk in the vague direction the plants were showing.
He walked through the countryside, thick hair tied to a ponytail, leaving only the bangs that covered his forehead to be free. The vibrations licking at his skin sang a haunted melody and he abided to his markings’ whims like a man possessed.
The buzzing reached a peak when he finally made it to the shore of the sea of corpses that awaited him. A lone figure stood above everyone else whistling that same ghostly song. As their white keikogi, soaked red in the blood of their enemies, fluttered with majestic grace that a warrior was unlikely to possess. Rivers of red dripped down their katana, as the samurai looked at the sky. The silver crown of hair was washed with moonlight, and from this distance Toshirou could make out the telltale sign of the vines he was so familiar with. They had crawled up the person’s chin, reaching up to their eyes, almost covering the left side of their face- the side he could see.
The figure moved as if to turn their head and face him-
-He was jolted awake by the loud, incising beeping of his alarm. Two red eyes were burned inside his eyelids.
Hijikata knew this dream. It was one that had been visiting him in recurring patterns for almost 10 years now. It was a dream he had been having ever since the day Hijikata had strayed away from his town and ended up missing for almost an entire day. Everyone had shut themselves in their houses when they had learned of the upcoming battle, but Kondou-san claimed that Hijikata alone had walked out in the wilderness and had returned a day later as if nothing had occurred at all.
Hijikata himself had no remembrance of what happened, but he could still recall the way his skin hummed in a rhythmic lullaby.
He knew what that sensation was called. It was resonance. It was also a huge coincidence, his dreams of Shiroyasha -something that had likely never happened- could not possibly be related to the case he was currently investigating, Hijikata concluded.
He now knew that the silver-haired samurai he was chasing was operating a business named “Yorozuya Gin-san”, named after himself. He had aided and stopped the delivery of a bomb and had a keen resemblance to the figure he had seen from a distance ten years ago. He was an individual who was suspected to have landed a hit on Kondou-san. Everything about him stirred up Hijikata’s unease, and most especially the vibrations he induced in the vice-commander’s skin whenever he was close.
He was a mysterious figure, drenched in blood in Hijikata’s dreams, but helping old men fix their roofs with little payment in real life. He was an arch-nemesis and a hero. He was everything Hijikata has been trying to avoid.
These thoughts would not be allowed to disturb the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi. He was Hijikata Toshirou and he had a job to do, which did not involve silver-haired warriors, but involved the very real “Gin-san”, possible ally of Kotarou Katsura and destroyer of his commander’s reputation.
As he dressed in his usual outfit, making sure the fabric covered up the markings around his neck and shoulders, he grabbed his sword and headed out to offer some discipline to the employees of the special police force.
Gintoki was screwed.
Correction: Gintoki was more screwed than usual.
Taking deep breaths to calm down his erratic heart, he felt the weight of a new issue of Jump in his kimono ready and eager to grant him an escape from reality.
Flashes of that blue gaze were stuck in his mind. Memories of a thin, yet strong young man, dazed and mesmerized, combined with the figure of the cop he saw today. They were the same person, igniting the same fire on his skin that threatened to burn him whole.
That is what he kept thinking all the way to the next morning when he was woken by loud banging on his door.
“Open the door, Gin-chan...” The sleepy voice of Kagura followed.
“Go open it yourself, Kagura”
“It’s your house.”
“You live here too!” He yelled in annoyance, but still marched out of his bedroom. He grumbled as he reached to drag his door open, only to meet with a broomstick right on the head.
“What was that for?!”
“You are three months behind on rent, brat!” Otose’s raspy voice cut through the air.
“I don’t have your rent, you damn hag!” Gintoki replied as usual.
Instead of continuing the familiar routine, though, Otose paused, imbuing a serious tone into the atmosphere. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come down to the bar. Now.” She turned away, beginning to walk towards the stairs.
“Okay, okay. At least let a man do his morning routine first.”
“Gintoki.” She wasn’t facing him, but even the mention of his name meant this wasn’t about rent or maintenance. Gintoki stared at her back for a few more seconds before sighing.
“I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
He went back to his bedroom to change into his black jumpsuit and white kimono, and when he re-entered the living room he saw a sleepy Kagura rubbing her eyes, black circles under her lids indicating that it was one of her bad nights. He felt a tiny pang of guilt for waking her up so early- not that he would ever admit that. “Go back to sleep.”
“Is it Christmas, aru?”
“Just listen to Gin-san for once and go to bed” He called out as he reached the front door. “If you are good, Gin-san will get you some sukonbu~”
“Going to bed,” She responded automatically and Gintoki smiled to himself, as he walked down the stairs.
The bar was as dusty and deserted as it always was this time in the morning. It seemed that without helping hands, Otose struggled to keep the place clean by herself. She never mentioned it, but her years were ganging up on her, and she soon might not be able to keep the bar open. ‘Well… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it’ Gintoki thought and sat at the counter, where a glass of whiskey awaited him. The old woman was right behind the counter wiping some glass with a rag.
“Are you encouraging me to drink in broad daylight, old had?” He teased, but took a sip anyways, relishing the taste of old liquor before raising his head in her direction again. “What’s the occasion?”
“Some cops came asking after you.” She casually responded and Gintoki almost dropped the glass. “I told them you are away.” She placed the glass she was wiping down and grabbed another. “Are you hiding something from me, Gintoki?” She may be old, but he knew better than anyone what she could do with a broomstick, so he only gulped uneasily.
“Me?” His voice was unusually high-pitched. “Nothing at all.”
“Is that so? So this has nothing to do with the recent bombing or you running home early yesterday?” That damn hag was too perceptive for her own good. “Don’t drag us all down with you, in whatever mess you got involved in. You have a young girl living with you now and another teenaged idiot following you around.”
“I’ll deal with this.”
“And how exactly will you do that?” She sounded doubtful and for a good reason. Gintoki didn’t exactly have a good history with illegal activities.
“I might know someone who may or may not owe me a favor and is currently in a high ranked position in the Shinsengumi” He rushed the words out, trying to avoid the conversation that this piece of information might bring forth.
“You actually have acquaintances?”
Gintoki winced. It was worth a try. “It’s a long story.”
“I have all day, don’t I?”
“Fine!” He took a deep breath and prepared to recount the series of events that occurred ten years ago.
“It was back when I was still fighting in the Joui War…”
The sounds of katanas running through flesh, heavy footsteps and loud screaming was the only stimulus that filled his ears. Eventually, it all became a barricade of white noise, his body moving instinctively to avoid slashes from enemies and inflict his own.
Soon he was the only one left standing in the vicinity, his-
“Good Morning, Gin-san, Otose-san!” A pair of glasses interrupted. “Oi! What do you mean “a pair of glasses”, Narrator-san?!” The pair of glasses was enraged. “Oi!!!”
“Don’t stop my flow like that, Patsuan. Gin-san was telling a story from his adventurous youth!” The protagonist complained.
“Why do you get to be the protagonist, while I am just a pair of glasses?!”
“Not everyone is born equal, Patsuan. Sometimes you just have to embrace your fate.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you! I bet your story is about all the money you spent at pachinko, and your unpaid employees.” The glasses, called Shimura Shinpachi, retaliated. “Would you stop that, Narrator-san? It’s not funny at all.” Shimura sighed, “At least I have a proper name now…”
“Why don’t you take a seat, Shinpachi-kun?” Otose offered. “Gintoki was about to explain how a police officer owes him a favor.” There was still doubt heavily lacing her voice, which was also reflected in Shinpachi’s narrowed eyes.
“Gin-san has done something good enough to be indebted to?”
“Oi! What is that supposed to mean, Pachie-boy? Gin-san, here, is a war hero, you know! The entire Edo should be in his debt!”
“More like you have a debt in the size of Edo.”
“Just sit tight and listen! I will prove you both wrong!”
He took a deep breath and lifted his gaze from the blood-soaked ground. He stared at the cloudy night sky, a sky so dark he could barely see in front of him. The breath that left his lungs formed a little small cloud in its wake, human warmth easing into the frozen air.
Now that he was not fighting for his life, he became conscious of a slight buzzing on his skin, which slowly intensified. Before he knew it, his markings had reached his cheeks.
As a cloud travelled far enough to not be covering the bright moon anymore, he turned his head around only for his gaze to meet with-
“-the most beautiful person on Earth.” A distinctly female voice finished his sentence for him. “And you fell in love at first sight, aru. We know, we know.” Kagura picked her nose, launching a booger away from her finger.
“Hey! Didn’t I tell you to go back to sleep?!”
“Once I am awake, I stay awake, Gin-chan. It was so boring upstairs.”
“No sukonbu for you, young lady!”
“As if you would ever get me some, you cheap bastard.”
“What did you say?! Gin-san always stays true on his promises.”
“Except when those involve money, you would rather spend otherwise.” Shinpachi noted.
“I’ll remove part of your pay check for that.” Gintoki declared.
“You have never once paid us!” Kagura punched him in the face, getting him immediately K.O.-ed. She searched through his pockets, only to find nothing but change. She clicked her tongue and put them back.
“Are we in a video game, now? How did you win with one hit? And is it just me, or are the descriptions of our actions getting more and more ridiculous?” Shinpachi commented.
“Anyway,” she pointedly ignored him, “we all know what this story is. It’s about Toshi-kun.”
“How do you ever know that, Kagura-chan?”
“I am the one who has to hear Gin-chan’s drunken rambling, you know.” She sounded bored, but there was some underlying bragging hiding in her words. “Let me tell you the story.”
A young version of Gin-chan turned his head and something rose-
“Hey! What do you mean something?! He said earlier that it was the markings! Don’t make this sound misleading! What kind of heroine are you?!”
“Okay, okay.”
-the markings rose further up his face, until they reached his eyes.
In the edge of the battlefield stood a young man, about the same age as Gin-chan was. He had blue eyes and his black hair was tied in a small ponytail. He looked dazed and then something happened that made his knees weak and he couldn’t walk, so Gin-chan-
Shinpachi: “Something happened? Why couldn’t he walk?”
Kagura: “Those are just details, aru.”
Shinpachi: “Tell the story properly! Look! Even Narrator-san has given up on us! There are no descriptions of our actions at all now!”
Kagura: “Narrator is on their lunch break now. Can’t be helped, aru.”
Otose sighed, mourning the time she had to spend listening to meaningless bickering. “Enough, you two. Just wake Gintoki and let him finish his own damn story.”
Shinpachi: “Hey! Why is Otose-san the only one who gets to be seriously written! Narrator-san is obviously not on any break!”
“So loud, Patsuan…” A loud groan was heard from one of the booths. “Just five more minutes…”
Shinpachi: “Don’t go back to sleep! You just used Kagura-chan’s punch as an opportunity to take a nap, didn’t you?!”
Gintoki sat up and walked towards the counter, settling in his previous seat. “Fine. Let me quickly summarize this to get this over with.”
The young man looked dazed, the thin fabric covering his skin, not enough to protect him from the winter cold. He was shivering violently, but he didn’t seem to notice neither the cold, nor his own exhaustion.
The closest village was a quarter day’s walk from here, and the man looked like he hadn’t stopped walking for a second. The light vibrations on Gintoki’s skin were enough to understand exactly who this person was. He snapped out of his own daze, like he was thrown in a barrel of cold water.
This couldn’t be happening in the middle of the war! He had to go back to his allies and prepare for the next battle. However, as he was lost in thought he was almost too late to notice that the knees of the man in front of him had buckled. He caught the body in mid-air and he was startled to feel how sturdy it was under his fingertips.
This body belonged not to a common villager, but a warrior.
“I don’t have all day to listen to your love story, Gintoki” Otose pointed out as she lit her pipe and breathed out gray puffs of smoke.
Gintoki’s cheeks flushed. “This is not a love story! I am not in love! I just decided to help him out!”
At some point of Gintoki’s story-telling both kids has fallen asleep head first on the counter. Otose’s eyes examined him, still retaining that familiar layer of doubt. “If you met your soulmate ten years ago, where is he now?”
Gintoki set his glass back on the counter so abruptly that it was close to cracking. “I told you. This is not a love story. He is somewhere out there living his life- pretty successfully too, if I may add.”
“So that’s who you saw yesterday”
Gintoki spluttered and choked on his drink, initiating a coughing fit. “Warn me before you start spitting out absurdities, old hag!” He calmed down for a few seconds, and covered his face with his palms. “Yes.” He quietly confessed, as if he would be thrown to jail for admitting it out loud.
“And you ran away, didn’t you?” She let out one more tiny cloud of smoke.
“Maybe…” He wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore.
“And how is that connected to the police?”
“He may or may not be the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi…”
“What?! And you didn’t think of revealing such an important bit of information from the start?” She let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. “Is he the one who apparently owes you a favor?”
“No… That’s the Goril-” He coughed. “I mean the commander of the Shinsengumi.”
“How did that even happen, brat?! Did you sell him your soulmate, or your kidney?!”
“If you would have just let me finish the story, you would know!”
“Fine. Go on.”
“Let’s see… where was I?”
“You held him up when he collapsed, aru”
“You were awake?!”
“Didn’t I tell you? Once I am awake-”
“-you stay awake. Got it. Now go and watch some anime and don’t interrupt.”
“It is so comfortable here, aru.”
Gintoki grumbled and shoved his hand in his pocket to dig out his change. “Go get some sukonbu and take Patsuan with you.”
“As if that’s enough for sukonbu” She whined, but lifted Shinpachi up and carried him like a sack of potatoes all the way upstairs.
“Now…”
As he held the young man, he realized that he was completely out cold.
He sighed. If he left him there, he was likely to freeze to death, but he could go on and continue his efforts of saving Sensei. If he took him with him, he would survive, but was likely to get involved in battle.
He grumbled to himself a few colorful curses but chose the third option. He would take him to the village closest from the direction he came from.
From where he held the man in his arms, their markings inched towards each other in the points of contact. The man’s markings grazed by Gintoki’s and he dropped the man, as if he had been burned.
The feeling was too foreign. It was something akin to tingling, but felt warm. Besides the physical aspect of the sensation, though, he was also washed by a wave of security. He had never felt anything like this outside of Sensei’s embrace. His hands had started shaking at the thought, but he clenched his fists and lifted the man again, this time being careful to only touch his clothes.
He walked for hours in the dark, before he finally saw man-made structures in the moonlight. He noticed a lantern tracing a path that connected the houses of the village. Someone was going around knocking on the doors. As he approached further, he noticed the large shape of a man holding the lantern.
Before he had any chance to speak and ask about the man he held tightly in his own arms, the lantern-carrying man turned to him and yelled: “Toshiiii!!!”
Gintoki was startled by the sudden noise, but handed over the man -Toshi, apparently- over. “Where did you find him?” He was asked by that large hunk of a man. He looked like a Gorilla.
“He was standing by the battlefield.” He simply said, wanting to leave as soon as he could.
The “Gorilla” lifted the lantern up to take a look at him, and finally seemed to notice the branched on Gintoki’s face that were now moving towards his arms and the blue-eyed man. Gorilla’s eyes widened, his mouth forming an “O” shape, in shock. “You’re-”
“No one.” Gintoki rushed out. “I am no one, and I was never here. He wandered away and came back on his own. Keep him away from both me and the battlefield. Got it?”
“B-but…” The Gorilla paused. “How can I repay you for bringing him back?”
Gintoki quickly figured out that Gorilla was the type of person to not let go of such matters until he found a way to repay him. The quickest way to make him let go of this was to make some vague promise. “How about this? If you ever see me again, you will owe me a favor.”
The Gorilla nodded eagerly, and Gintoki turned around to return to the camp, before a voice stopped him in his tracks. “What should I call you?”
“I am just a white-haired samurai.”
“So that so called Gorilla turned out to be the chief of the Shinsengumi, and this boy, Toshi, the vice-chief?” Otose deadpanned.
“More or less.”
“From all this bullshit I just heard, I got only one thing.” Otose finally concluded. Gintoki lifted his head from where he was staring at his empty glass, and looked her right in the eye. “You are a fleeing coward.”
“Hey! I had a war to fight, and the battlefield isn’t exactly the best place for a romantic picnic!”
“What is your excuse for yesterday then?”
Gintoki opened and closed his mouth a few times, not being able to utter a word.
“That’s what I thought.” She grabbed her broom and smacked him in the face. “I know you have never heard of the word “responsibility” before, but it’s time to stop running away and face a person you have been avoiding for ten years.”
“How would I even begin to do that?!” He burst. “Ten years have passed! He is probably not even interested in this crap!”
“Did he come after you yesterday, or not?”
“He did, but-”
“No buts!” She knocked her pipe on an ashtray to replace the burned out tobacco. “You are an adult Gintoki. You can’t change the past but you can certainly change the future. The choice is yours.”
Even hours after his conversation with Otose her words rang in his mind
“The choice is yours.” He mimicked the old lady’s voice. “As if anything is ever that easy.” he grumbled.
The Shinsengumi mysteriously stopped coming after him, after a couple of days, and he silently thanked the Gorilla from the bottom of his heart. From then, his life continued being the same chaotic mess it always was.
The few times they came across each other, they both followed a silent, shared pact of indifference. If the other –the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata Toshirou, as he later learned- did not mention the bond between their souls, then Gintoki sure wouldn’t.
Gintoki did his best to ignore the literal crawl on his skin, and he saw Hijikata doing the same. They argued every time they were in the same room, butted heads with each other on a regular basis, and were regulars at the same restaurant. They ate bright red crackers on the hospital rooftop, blaming their tears on the spice, all the while never fully acknowledging the other’s presence, but drawing comfort from it nonetheless.
Time flowed seamlessly and Earth continued to turn without fail.
When Hijikata showed up on his couch, wearing sunglasses and a sleeveless jean-jacket, holding a figurine, Gintoki was burning.
His branch-like markings vibrated with such intensity that he felt like his skin would get teared off his body. The plants were withering, gathering in the area of Gintoki’s chest, curling together like a bunch of snakes. That meant that what he felt was Hijikata’s anguish. Something was wrong, even as he sat and casually spoke about wanting to be a NEET, not showing the slightest sign of distress.
Hijikata’s suffering could not be physical, to influence the markings as such, Gintoki concluded. At the mention of the cursed sword, it suddenly made sense, so he dragged Hijikata to the best swordsmith he knew and learned about Muramasha.
“If this is the real demonic sword, then there may not be anything left of that man’s original soul.” Tetsuko stated. Despite her words, and trusting her opinion as an experienced swordsmith, Gintoki knew she was wrong.
He could still feel the pain in his chest, where his markings had retreated, a sign that Hijikata was still alive. As soon as he smelled the telltale scent of tobacco, his suspicions were confirmed. Hijikata was fighting with all his might, and he would not be brought down so easily.
He could see sweat glisten on his skin from his efforts of clawing his way to the surface. His eyes were a cloudy shade of blue, indicating that he had reached beyond his limits. Soon, he would retreat into himself once again, but before that, he locked eyes with Gintoki, determination shining through the mist in his gaze.
“Please…” He uttered as he was brought down to his knees. He fought both the curse and his own pride to leave Gintoki a request, “protect my… our Shinsengumi”
How could Gintoki turn away in the face of such willpower? In his attempt to ignore all influence from his markings, he had turned away from this man, never even trying to know him, but now that his own knees were trembling from their shared pain, trying to stay upright, he understood. They both had something to protect.
He tried to appear impassive at first, to protect his kids, but they got dragged in this mess regardless. Gintoki just needed a push, which came in the form of an assassination attempt on Hijikata’s life, to let go of silly excuses and dive head first in the power fight.
They fought together and exited the fight in one piece. Therefore, when Hijikata was the one to approach him first, he wasn’t surprised. They sat back to back, not facing each other, but feeling a connection either way. The bond was established by Hijikata’s sense of gratitude, and was left as something fragile, like a raw nerve.
With time, that thin connection they shared just got reinforced and was left to fester and grow into something different, something akin to companionship. They refused to sever it, but also denied themselves from recognizing it. They let it remain the way it always has been- an unspoken understanding.
It was one of the many problems Gintoki refused to identify, and chose to run from instead.
As it turned out, his problems are professional racers and easily sped up to him, because, one day, he found his most major problem on his doorstep, in the form of a very irritated police officer scowling right at him.
“Hello, ther-” before Gintoki could finish some greeting soaked in fake politeness he felt metal bound his wrists and the clicking of chains. The bastard had just handcuffed him!
“You are under arrest for suspected affiliations with the Joui faction, Shiroyasha.” Hijikata mumbled as a courtesy.
Gintoki froze. He observed the person before him for a brief moment and noted how closed up he suddenly seemed to be. His stance was devoid of the subtle familiarity they had built up all this time. His steely gaze whispered of betrayal. Just how had Hijikata learned that name? What happened to make him look so utterly indignant?
He chose not to struggle on their way to the Shinsengumi headquarters, and kept up a constant chatter to fill that thunderous silence.
“Oi, oi, can you be a little more gentle Hijikata- kun ?” He drawled, failing to fake a whine. “Gin-san’s wrists are delicate! If you enjoy this sort of play you could have let me prepare first, ya know.”
“Shut it.” Hijikata finally said, but it had no bite in it. It was only full with tenderness, a vulnerability he desperately tried to hide from Gintoki.
Gintoki didn’t know which was worse- being hated or witnessing the undeniable pain in Hijikata’s strained voice. He decided he would do just about anything to bear one of Hijikata’s familiar bursts of anger instead of this- anything would be better than this.
Gintoki was shoved in an interrogation room and left without a word. The metal of the table’s surface cooled down his heated skin. After half an hour of staring at the mirror-glass boredom overtook him, like a weight in his gut he couldn’t shake off.
“Oi! Is anyone there?” There was no voice passing through the speakers that connected the two adjacent rooms. “Can someone bring me a Jump at least? I don’t care if it’s old!”
Another half an hour passed. “Damn, waste of my taxes! I am not paying you for mistreating innocent civilians!” He placed his head at the table, chin touching the surface, his hands in his line of sight like limp noodles. His fingers started poking the chain between his wrists around, but he quickly got tired of that and turned his head to the side. He was ready to take a nap and pass the time when he heard the handle of the door being turned.
He did not move from his position, as he heard the chair on the other side of the table being moved so that it could accommodate the weight of the person that had just entered.
He only lifted his head when an issue of Jump was placed right next to his head “I apologize for this, Yorozuya.” Kondou’s usually overbearing voice did not fill the room at this moment. His entire presence seemed subdued.
“You told him, didn’t you?” He sighed. He was too resigned to be angry about this. He may understand now the perplexing tone Hijikata had used earlier.
“The topic came up and…” Kondou drifted off, as if that was enough justification for his actions. “Look. I am not here to interrogate you, but I can’t let you go without some explanation on your part. Since you have been arrested, I need a solid reason to release you.”
"I am not guilty." Gintoki deadpanned, and Kondou controlled his laughter with a cough and took on the role of the Shinsengumi Chief, once again.
“What do you want me to say, Gorilla?"
"Why don't you start by telling me what you were doing 12 years ago, when appearances of the known Joui rebel, Shiroyasha, were first recorded?"
"I went to a temple school like all those normal kids," Gintoki channeled all his inner responsible-adult-chakra into this sentence. He was so low on sugar, that his fingers kept drumming on the surface of the metal table. Even if it was out of nervousness, Gintoki refused to acknowledge it.
"Uh-huh," the Gorilla noted something down on some paper that came along with a folder he had carried with him.
"What was the name of that temple school?"
"It was too long ago. Do you expect me to remember that?" Gintoki wished that was the truth.
"Okay, then. Do you know someone of the name Yoshida Shouyou?"
Gintoki's figure could be clearly seen from the occupants of the adjacent room. Through the one-way mirror, Hijikata was conflicted.
He never expected the boss of the Yorozuya to be synonymous with the hero of the Joui War, Shiroyasha.
He was a mysterious figure, drenched in blood and helping old men fix their roofs with little payment. He was someone Hijikata had truly seen 10 years ago, and was not a figment of his imagination. He was someone who -according to Kondou-san- had carried him for many kilometers to get him away from the battlefield. That same man also happened to be his-
He took a deep shuddering breath and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket as he watched Gintoki's dead-fish eyes, the bugrunty gaze glued to his commander.
What kind of messed up deity had decided to join a Police Officer of the Shinsengumi police force, with a Joui rebel, was beyond Hijikata. He would never allow useless sentimentalities to get in the way of his work. However, as his mind drifted to Gintoki's actions, his will wavered.
From his carefree, spendful nature, to all the times he aided the Shinsengumi, to the feeling of those strong arms holding him close and keeping his soul from being completely devoured by his demonic sword, Gintoki was different.
He had seen him interact with the notorious Katsura, leader of the Joui rebels, but it was always a kind of familiar bantering and never blind obedience. He truly believed that Gintoki was an independent force, he was his very own tsunami- capable of massive destruction but choosing to drift in the ocean.
So, why did Hijikata feel so betrayed after hearing about Gintoki's past from Kondou-san?
He was so desperate to separate his work from his personal matters that he had gone to extremes he wouldn't have. Had Gintoki not been his soulmate, he would have let him go, understanding of his benevolence.
What was he trying to prove now?
He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the very characteristic sound of handcuffs banging on the metallic table in the next room. He could see Gintoki's shoulders shaking, fists clenched so tight that his knuckles were as white as his hair. He couldn't tell if Gintoki was trembling from fear or from restraint. Knowing him, though, he would bet on Gintoki restraining himself from lashing out.
"I have never heard of a Yoshida Shouyou." His voice was slightly distorted through the audio system connecting the two rooms but he could hear something dark dripping from his voice. It sounded like a mix of anger and grief and despair.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Dripping like pure poison in an open wound, it was something that was born through pain so profound that it rooted itself in a person’s soul. It sounded like everything Gintoki should never be allowed to feel.
Hijikata was almost ashamed from invading such a vulnerable moment, but then he remembered the reason he was here in the first place. He was here to bring a dangerous individual behind bars.
Gintoki was, indeed, dangerous, but that felt heavy in Hijikata's thoughts. He was a destructive individual. When it came to his skills, that much could not be denied. Yet, Hijikata had never felt anything but safe in his presence, not even when he slaughtered his enemies. He did look like a white demon in the battlefield, so Shiroyasha is an appropriate nickname. Nevertheless, there was more to Gintoki, than simply the demon of battle. He always fought to protect and never to overthrow, which made Hijikata wonder: “What was he protecting in the Joui War as the Shiroyasha? What connection did he share with this Yoshida Shouyou, a simple teacher at a temple school, who was executed during the war?”
He then remembered Gintoki’s previous words.
“I went to a temple school like all those normal kids”
If that man was truly Gintoki’s teacher, they had unknowingly dug a deeper wound than expected. He could feel a throbbing in his markings, which signified Gintoki’s grief. It felt eerily similar to the loss of his own brother. He knew at this moment that he had to stop this.
He wouldn't let his own clouded judgement and stubbornness interfere with his duty. Gintoki didn’t deserve to be here, hands bound with handcuffs, shoulders shaking.
Hijikata approached the door and threw it open in an instant. He could hear the door bang against the wall from the force, but it was just background noise to his thoughts.
“That’s enough, Kondou-san,” He addressed his superior formally, even though the sting in his markings made him want to wince. “We got everything we needed. Sakata Gintoki is to be released.”
“Thank fucking goodness,” Kondou-san muttered under his breath and got up from his seat. As he was passing through the door connecting the two rooms he let out a quick “I’ll leave the rest to you, Toshi.” along with a pat on Hijikata’s shoulder and walked away.
Gintoki’s head was still downcast, but the trembling in his shoulders had died down, his eyes looking less haunted than a few seconds ago. “Weren’t you the one who got me arrested, Mayora?” He tried to joke, but his smile looked strained even to him.
“I changed my mind.” He grumbled, not being able to find some better excuse.
“So quick to leave me hanging.” The silver-haired man teased. “Are you equally quick in bed, Oogushi-kun?”
Hijikata’s eye twitched with annoyance, but let a small, relieved smile grace his lips, as his markings stopped their insistent throbbing. “Do you want to get arrested again, this time for verbal violence against an officer of the law?”
“I am good for now.” Gintoki finally raised his head, looking right at him, a lopsided, patched up smile morphing his features into something not quite graceful, but beautiful nonetheless. Hijikata freed Gintoki’s hands from their confines, and turned around to leave, without acknowledging the heat the thought brought to his cheeks.
“I am sorry.” Gintoki whispered, once Hijikata was barely in earshot. Hijikata didn’t know if the apology was meant to make it to his ears, but he understood the underlying messages in it.
I am sorry for not telling you.
I am sorry for running from you.
I am sorry for the pain this caused you.
The apologies were communicated the same way their silent agreements always were. The apology was also perceived as a promise by Hijikata- a promise to stop running from the connection that had been let to swell and fester like an ugly wound. Unknowingly, it was also banged around in their fights, like a swordsmith would hammer old iron to reforge it into a stronger sword.
It was ugly, but impregnable. It was sloppy but iron-clad.
It was everything they had exchanged, and everything they had yet to share.
Somehow, in this very moment, Hijikata thought that sharing some moments of his future in the presence of the idiot sitting on the chair, wouldn’t be so bad. He was too jaded to think of love, or eternity, but he would like to share a bit more time with Gintoki, however much the universe would allow.
“Why don’t you make it up to me with a drink?” he suggested, taking full satisfaction from watching Gintoki’s eyes widen. The smile that followed was not as wide nor as bright as what Gintoki usually showed to others, but it was more sincere than any smile he had ever witnessed before.
“Sure thing, vice-commander of the Shinsengumi.” He finally uttered. “I bet you can’t outdrink me anyways.”
“I already regret this decision.”
“Come on, Toshi. Relax a little bit.”
“What did you just call me?!”
In the months that followed, Hijikata started spending more and more time in Gintoki’s house/office, on his days off. In turn, the kids were getting more and more familiar with him.
“Toshiiiii,” Kagura wanted something from him. He could tell by the length of his drawn out name, “can you help me tie my hair?”
“Don’t you always tie it yourself?”
“My arms are too tired today, aru.” She whined.
Hijikata sighed, but moved closer to her and steadily started his work. Since he used to have longer hair, Mitsuba had fun running her hands through it on the occasions that Hijikata did not tie it into a ponytail. She taught him all sorts of hairstyles he had deemed to be useless. At least they were useful for something. He had placed one bun into Kagura’s accessory, when Shinpachi entered the room with two arms full of grocery bags, and Gintoki trailed behind him, carrying only one bag.
“I didn’t know you could make braids, Hijikata-san.” Shinpachi observed after placing the bags in the kitchen. Gintoki was also watching with awe lighting up his face, as Hijikata’s fingers moved fluidly through Kagura’s hair. Hijikata did not say anything in response, as he found it was a mostly rhetorical statement. Instead, he turned a little to show Shinpachi what movements he was doing, the boy’s eyes shone with understanding.
“Can you do my hair, next?” Gintoki asked, gaze still transfixed in the scene that played out in front of him. Hijikata saw as his gaze gradually melted from awe into something much softer, something akin to affection.
“It’s too short for that, idiot.” Hijikata responded offhandedly, and focused on his work further.
Kagura had an expression of pure, unadulterated glee on her face, and Hijikata thought that it was worth it to reveal a piece of information about himself, if it meant he got to see Kagura smile so freely. She seemed almost proud to receive Hijikata’s attention, and his heart melted at the sight. His gaze mirrored Gintoki’s as he placed the braid in the ornament and saw Kagura jump up, grab Shinpachi with her superhuman strength, with a quick “Thank you, mami!”, before running towards the door, to show off her hair to someone.
Hijikata’s cheeks blazed, and Gintoki burst out in loud laughter at that.
“Shut up.” Hijikata threatened, but there was no fire underlying his words, just embarrassment and that soft, warm goo that flooded his chest. Gintoki’s laughter could be heard from all the way downstairs and a little while later they both heard the loud banging of a broom hitting the ceiling and a yelled out “Too loud!”.
Hijikata couldn’t help letting go of all restraint and laughing to his heart’s content, his voice mixing with Gintoki’s in the most obnoxious duoetto to ever exist.
Crawling up to their shoulders, their markings reached for each other, branching outside of the bodies of their oblivious original hosts. Branches of blue and white blossoms crossing the boundaries of their owners’ bodies, bloomed in a wild mix, and remained long after the two broke apart.
That fragile, sloppy thread connecting their souls -that had formed the day when they were sitting back to back, still running from what their markings entailed- had become metal and indestructible, the presence of each other forever being engraved in their hearts.