Chapter Text
DAY ONE: TIME TRAVEL
When Hijikata wakes up, he’s back in his childhood bedroom back in Bushuu. He blinks a few times before sitting up and taking in his surroundings.
“It’s cold,” he curses quietly to himself, shivering in the early fall air. He laments the thin yukata loosely wrapped around his body.
Rubbing his hands on his arms, Hijikata stands, grabs and drapes the blanket around himself before softly padding across the room to his old desk.
It looks exactly as it did when he was younger—books lined up in one corner, brushes in their holders, papers stacked neatly to one side. Orderly. Everything where it should be. So when Hijikata glances at the calendar on the far left edge of the table, he realizes that maybe not everything is.
“Fuck, what the hell is going on,” He mutters. He pinches himself. One more time. He was in the middle of pinching himself harder when he hears hurried footsteps outside.
The moment he slides the door open, a blur of white and blue rush past his point of vision. The small blur speeds across the garden before it abruptly stops near a mikan tree. Specifically, beside a basket full of fresh harvest, where he’s picking up more than what his little hands could carry.
Hijikata’s brows furrow as deep as his V-shaped bangs as he stares at the small boy furiously packing fruits into a ragged knapsack. That couldn't possibly be —
“Gintoki!!” A middle-aged woman yells from across the space. Hijikata recognizes her as one of their old helpers. “You thieving little rat! Get out of our garden!!” Gintoki, startles, eyes wide, settling on the angry lady fast approaching.
The boy keeps his eyes on her, picks up a fruit and shoves it in his bag. Then he quickly dashes away toward the nearby forest. Smirking the whole way.
Cheeky bastard.
The woman stops right in front of Hijikata, deciding a chase was futile, when she turns to face him red-faced and furious. It’s Hijikata’s turn to startle and he begins muttering nonsense when she stomps up towards him.
“Stupid brats always making a mess of things,” she huffs, Hijikata steps aside. She slams the door shut. “A new one shows up and doesn’t know how to close a damn door, and another one comes back to steal my damn fruit!!”
Hijikata watches as the woman passes by him, her heavy footsteps pounding on the wooden floor. “How convenient,” he frowns, “I need a cigarette.”
He searches his pockets and expectedly, comes up empty. Hijikata sighs. This isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened to him. Not even the first time he’s had the pleasure of traveling to the past. He looks up at the morning sky, and considers his options.
He lets another sigh escape his lips before deciding to search for the little white devil probably still running in the forest.
“What a pain.”
He’s been walking for about thirty minutes along the footpath and it’s a little past noon when he finally reaches the creek. It used to be his safe haven growing up in the Hijikata household. A melancholic smile passes his lips when his eyes lay on a large rock right beside the waters, a large tree preceding it.
As Hijikata reaches the tree something drops in front of his feet. Hijikata looks down and sees a mikan peel. He looks up to find a mop of white hair eating a perfectly peeled mikan, whole.
There you are.
“Oi, Yorozuya,” He tries calling his attention but to no avail. You’re invisible remember? He tries again.
And again.
The boy keeps peeling.
“What am I even here for?!” He complains after trying to get the boy’s attention several times.
Hijikata scratches the back of his head in frustration. He looks back up at the boy and observes.
Gintoki looks to be around his age when he was at this point in time. He was a scrawny, skinny little thing. Dirt all over his small frame, wearing a worn out yukata a little too big for him. Hijikata notices a small pile of belongings beside him on the tree branch — a rugged bag half-full of fruit, a tattered blanket, and a sheathed katana.
Gintoki shoves one last mikan in his mouth and gathers up the peels before jumping off the tree. He lands right in front of Hijikata and stands no higher than the older man’s stomach.
He picks up the peel by Hijikata’s feet and walks off, chucking them in the water.
Hijikata follows after him as he tests the water with his sandaled feet. You can’t swim, he smiles quietly to himself.
Gintoki, probably thinking the same thing, steps away from the water, and sits on the edge of the rock overlooking the creek. It’s a peaceful site.
Hijikata leans against the tree and watches as the boy shuffles in his seat and lies down, head on both of his skinny arms. A few beats later, he decides to join the little man and takes a seat beside him.
“Must be hard, huh?” He starts, watching the water gently rushing across him.
Gintoki doesn’t respond. He wrinkles his small nose. With eyes shimmering, he blinks once, twice, before closing them and turning on his side. His face hidden in white, as he curls up facing the other man.
Hijikata smiles and watches him sleep for a while. You haven’t changed at all, lazy bastard, Hijikata thinks. He holds himself back from ruffling Gin’s hair and lies down next to him before nodding off himself.
Rustling leaves wake Hijikata up. It wakes Gintoki up too as his eyes snap wide open and he shuffles quickly to his feet. Still groggy from his afternoon nap, he stumbles and nearly falls off the rock. Hijikata grabs his arm and pulls him away from the edge.
“You could’ve drowned, you lazy perm!” He scolds, getting up himself.
Gintoki’s face is as white as his hair. Eyes wide and looking straight at him. Hijikata wonders if he can see him.
“Oi, can you see me?”
“W-w-was that a ghost? I-i-is there a ghost here??”
Hijikata sighs.
“N-no, no g-ghosts here. G-g-ghosts don’t exist, right? Right?? That was just the wind!! Yes, the wind!”
Gintoki looks like a deer in headlights, nervously shifting side to side. Just then, more rustling was heard as well as footsteps crunching on dried leaves.
Gintoki snaps into focus. He rushes toward the tree and stealthily climbs higher, grabbing his belongings along the way.
He hides under his tattered blanket right when two men emerge from the bush, carrying game across their shoulders.
“Ah, water at last.”
“We’re almost by the town.” The other man replies, dropping his game on the ground.
“Let’s just grab some water and go.”
The two men chat for a bit longer and fill up their small containers with water. They pick up their game and disappear back into the forest.
Hijikata looks up at Gintoki and notices that he’s popped his fluffy head out from under the blanket and looks calmer.
At this point, Hijikata notices that his fingers on the hand he used to grab Gintoki are slowly fading away. He looks back up at the small perm and watches him slowly settle back to sleep. What was I here for then?
He watches Gintoki for a bit longer. His palm is slowly fading now, too.
Hijikata blinks.
Maybe—
He takes one last look at the young Gintoki sleeping peacefully in the tree. His lips quirk a little before he leaves. He has to do something before his body completely disappears.
When Hijikata Toshiro comes home from school, he goes straight to his bedroom. It’s half past three in the afternoon and his siblings are home. He doesn’t like to linger too long in the common areas.
He briskly passes by the living room and notes that there are snacks on the dining table, when he hears hushed voices.
“The brat’s back isn’t he?”
“Poor kid doesn’t even have friends.”
“Poor kid shouldn’t even be here! Why’d Tamegoro-nii have to bring the stray home?!”
Just the usual then, Toshiro thinks. He doesn’t stay to listen. He sprints to his room, making as little noise as possible, and closes the door before sliding down to the ground. His patterned yukata pools around his knees on the floor.
He huffs and puffs, then scampers to his desk. He’ll organize his things; it’ll give him something to do. He drops his little pouch by the table when he notices a slip of paper on top of his desk. He picks it up.
Toshiro,
There’s a white haired boy wearing a blue yukata in the forest. He’s hiding on top of the tree by the big rock near the creek. You know the one.
His name’s Gintoki.
Go make friends with him.
P.S. Bring him a strawberry daifuku from the dining table. It’s his birthday today.
Mayo13
