Work Text:
There’s a new voice that answers the phone whenever clients calls the Yorozuya; a deep, calm baritone that’s unlike the three known members‘ voices.
“Hello? Yes, this is the Yorozuya; Takasugi speaking.”
1
“He’s here again, he’s here again!” Saigo hears one of the girls clamour, a lovestruck squeal tacked on at the end.
“Hm?”
Saigo moves towards the gathered cluster hidden behind the curtains before peering out to see what the commotion was about.
“What is it?” Saigo asks, startling the gaggle into scattering.
“Mama!” Baneko exclaims, a hand clutched tight above a fast beating heart. “You startled us!”
Saigo ignored the pouting. “So? What’s this?”
The girls all gathered close and pointed towards one of the back tables. “Over there, over there.” Wakame points out.
A man sat alone; back leaning against the wall with his eyes closed as he smoked his pipe. He looked relaxed, but Saigo wasn’t fooled. This was a dangerous man.
Built leanly, Saigo would bet he was a fast one too. Fast enough that he could draw a blade without anyone noticing he’d done it in the first place. Fast enough to be trouble.
“He’s been here a few times now,” Wakame confides excitedly, not noticing the assessing look Saigo was giving the man. “He doesn’t talk to anyone and he only ever stays for 20 minutes.”
“Ohoh?” Saigo couldn’t help but utter; thoughts already racing as Saigo went through all the possible reasons why a man that felt as dangerous as him was frequenting his club when he almost seemed disinterested in making any contact with anyone inside.
“Watch the bar for me, will you? And get back to work!”
Saigo left them scrambling all over each other to do as Saigo said and navigated through the scattered tables, taking care not to block any patron’s view of the stage where a few of the girls and Paako were performing.
“Good evening,” Saigo greets, sitting down on the left side of the table unceremoniously. “I trust you are enjoying your evening, customer?”
The man glanced sharply at Saigo, tensing for a moment before seemingly relaxing again. “It’s been—interesting” he says, his lips twitching into a small smirk.
Saigo remains silent, not sure if the man meant it as an insult or not.
Grabbing the bottle of alcohol on the table, Saigo offered it to the man. “Would you like some?”
He turned his head a bit before turning back to the performance, the only answer to Saigo’s question being the right hand dangling the cup towards Saigo’s direction.
Pouring an adequate amount on the customer’s cup, Saigo handed it back before filling the second cup on the table and taking it to the lips.
They stay like that for the entire duration of the performance at the front; in an almost companionable silence.
When the performance finally ended, Saigo stood up, dusting off imaginary dust motes from the folds of the kimono. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, customer. I’ll send one of the girls here to entertain you.”
If the man had been frequenting the club enough for the girls to notice and hadn’t done anything yet, then there was no reason to monitor him personally.
As it was, there probably was no more effective surveillance than the girls who were gawking at him.
And Saigo had to go get Paako’s pay. That man was impatient, and if it wasn’t because Paako actually managed to draw in some customers, or the fact that the club could get short staffed sometimes, then Saigo wouldn’t actually hire him. Even if it was just temporarily.
As expected, Paako’s gaze immediately roamed the club for Saigo. But what Saigo wasn’t expecting was for Paako’s face to turn horrified; face paling dramatically.
He stormed over, but instead of going straight to Saigo like he always did after a shift, he grabbed the other man and pulled him off to the side.
“What are you doing here?!” Saigo heard Paako whisper furiously.
“You said you were going to show me around.” Was the other man’s bland reply.
“I didn’t mean today!”
With a shrug and a smug smirk, it was obvious that Paako’s. . .friend already knew that.
It made sense, Saigo mused, Paako had been working here for the past week, that must be why the man started visiting the club.
It didn’t explain why he never made his appearance known to Paako, of course, and Saigo had inklings of suspicion as to why, but that wasn’t any business of Saigo’s.
“You certainly are getting popular, aren’t you, Paako?” Saigo teases, finally coming over after eavesdropping on their not so hushed conversation.
Paako makes a face at that but doesn’t comment.
“So, who’s this?”
If Paako knew him, and was actively engaging with him, then he mustn’t be dangerous to them. Or wasn’t actually going to actively cause trouble of the bad kind.
“This is Takasugi,” Paako introduces, still giving the other man the stink-eye. “He’s the newest member of the Yorozuya.”
Saigo hummed; amused when Paako broke out into a full bodied blush and nearly dissolving into jelly when Takasugi rested a hand on his arm.
Looking Takasugi up and down, Saigo asked, “Would you like to work here? You would do pretty well. Zurako hasn’t been by as much, so we had to rely on this idiot here.”
With an indignant squawk, Paako protested. “Oi! Who do you think brings you customers, huh? Paako is your most popular hostess here!”
“Don’t delude yourself, Zurako’s definitely our most popular hostess.” Saigo snorts derisively. “So? Want to work here?”
“I don’t dance.” Came Takasugi’s quick answer. Then his mouth twitched into a smile. “But maybe I can play the shamisen here, once in a while.”
Booming laughter startled the nearby occupants into turning from their seats, only to quickly turn back away when they saw just who exactly it was that laughed.
“I like you.” Saigo grins. “Make sure to bring him around often, Paako. I definitely like his face better than yours.”
Grumbling, Paako waved him away. “Fine, fine, whatever, no appreciation for Paako at all, now give me my pay. I’m starting to stink here.”
The last thing Saigo notices as Saigo walks away is Takasugi whispering something into Paako’s ear, making Paako hide in Takasugi’s hair; the only visible part of his face a glowing bright red.
Well. Regardless of the fact that Paako brought a well-known terrorist who didn’t shy from actually hurting innocents around, it certainly was a treat to see Paako freely enjoying himself for a change.
And, Saigo thought with barely concealed humor, it looks like the suspicions Saigo had were definitely on the right track. Maybe Saigo should pack the two some of the supply Saigo kept just in case for the girls to use as a welcome gift.
It always pays to be welcoming to your neighbours, after all.
2
“Gi—Gin-san,” Hasegawa stutters, sweating bullets as he glances at the man sitting beside Gin. He‘s been staring at Hasegawa with a huge intense eye since he’d first came in the booth. As if in mere moments a laser beam could shoot out of that eye and incinerate him.
“Who’s your friend?” Hasegawa manages to ask despite the mounting urge to flee from that gaze.
“Ah?” Gin turns, voice sounding lazy as ever and acting as if he doesn’t notice the tense atmosphere.
His gaze slid over to the other man beside him whose expression blanked immediately into a neutral one as soon as Gintoki turned to look at him.
“Oh, this is Chibisu—“ with a sudden yelp of pain, Gintoki frantically blew on his swollen hand to ease the redness of it from being slammed on.
“It’s Takasugi.” the man, Takasugi, says.
(And, okay, maybe Hasegawa has already suspected it might be Takasugi, but he still hoped he might have been wrong!
. . .
He didn’t see the popularity poll arc, did he? Did he?! Was that why he was so hostile?!)
With a teary glare aimed at Takasugi, Gin continued, still fanning his hand. “Don’t mind him, he’s just tagging along to get acquainted with Kabukicho.”
“A—ah, I see,” Hasegawa gives a strained smile as he hesitantly sat down on the bench.
Taking the proffered glass from the booth owner, Hasegawa wondered just how deep his M side went as he once more tried to engage Takasugi in conversation.
“S—so! How has Kabukicho been treating you, Takasugi-san?”
“Better than I thought.”
Quick.
Curt.
The nervous sweating continued, becoming a veritable waterfall as it went longer.
An almost hysterical laughter bubbles up, a few escaping his lips before Hasegawa was able to tamp them down.
Glancing at Gin showed that he was still preoccupied with his hand, muttering curses under his breath.
No help from there.
“Ahhh, then, how has meeting others been?”
“Enlightening.” A pointed glare.
‘He knows! He definitely knows! Hatsu, I’m sorry, looks like this is really it.’
Gulping down the sudden lump in his throat, Hasegawa rubbed the back of his neck as the nervous laughter he’s been holding up bursts out.
“Nothing extremely b—bad about me, I hope.”
. . .
. . .
Bang!
“Ow, ow, ow! What was that for?!” Gin suddenly bursts out as Takasugi slammed his just recovered hand on the table again.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass! There’s obviously something!”
Takasugi huffed. A frown settling on his face. “Idiot. I’m going back. You can stay and drink here or whatever.”
“Oi! Get back here!” Gin shouted after Takasugi’s retreating back. When he continued as if he didn’t hear Gin’s words, Gin rubbed the back of his head, his face set in an irritated expression. “Ach, here’s the payment, old man. And you, I’ll see you later. I gotta go now.”
Hasegawa blinked, feeling like he’s just missed an entire other conversation that was going on.
“What was that about?” He asked the old man in front of him.
The old man gave him an unimpressed look before shaking his head.
“Idiots.”
3
“Welcome! Welcome, customer! Please take a seat.”
A seat clatters. The sound of someone sliding in the bench unmistakable.
“It’s been pretty hot these days, huh?”
“...”
“Man, those fancy buildings sure are lucky, I’d like an aircon too. But I do have an ice cooler! Wait, let me get you something to drink, can’t talk with a dry throat, can you?”
Crack.
“Ahh, up, up, up, these old bones aren’t what they used to be,”
Crack.
“Here, cool yourself with this.”
Burble, burble, clink, clink.
Clack.
The glass thuds atop the counter, the ice and the alcohol swirling in the glass.
“...”
“...”
“Thanks.”
Warm hands grips the glass tight. The yellow light and his image reflecting back at him in the clear liquid.
“...”
A fleeting breeze from the old man’s fan drifts by him.
“...”
“You look like you have something on your mind. Why not let it out here?”
“...”
“Some things are easier to say to a stranger. Makes you feel like you’re free to say what you want without the possibility of people you care for judging you or seeing you for only that, yeah?”
“...”
“Still not convinced? Don’t worry, this place protects it’s customers’ privacy. You can say anything you want here.”
“...”
“Ah! Before I forgot, the practice here is, if you run into someone you know, you both pretend you don’t know each other and the four rules of the cart are: One; complain all you want. Two; come alone. Three; like I said, pretend you don’t know each other if you’re acquaintances. Four; forget everything you hear in this place and do not tell a soul. What happens in the cart, stays in the cart.”
“That way, anyone can feel free to complain in this stall without the fear of repercussions.”
“...”
“...”
“Well, you’re also just free to eat here, of course.”
“...”
The silence stretches.
“...”
“I guess I just don’t know where to go now.”
The ice settles at the bottom, clinking softly on the glass.
“I stayed here for...a friend. But seeing this place he made home makes me wonder if there’s a place for me here.”
“...”
“...”
“It makes me jealous. The bond they all have with each other. The good memories they all made together. My friend and I used to have that. And I thought, we do still have that. We could still have that. It’s just that sometimes, the what-if’s and could haves—“
A sigh.
“It’s not like I can go back in time either way, and I’m content with how everything played out as it is. The people who followed me all finding their own paths. Everyone recovering from all the destruction and pain.”
“...”
“I just feel—redundant. Like I’m not needed anymore. Not necessary to anyone. I know that everyone will be able to go on happily with their lives even without me, and it makes me wish that I’d have—“
Heavy curtains being lifted.
“You!” a pant, catching of breath.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You said you were going home, this is in the entire opposite direction from there!”
“Go away, Gintoki.”
“...”
“...”
“Are you drunk?”
“What? No! I’m not drunk!”
“...”
“...”
“You are! Wow, this takes me back, it’s been what, fifteen years now? Since I last saw you this drunk.”
“...shut up. Your face is drunk.”
A laugh.
“Alright, alright. Old man, I’m taking him home, thanks for taking care of him.”
“...”
Crunching of boots on soil.
“...”
“Maa, I guess I could waive the cart rules just for now.”
“...”
“...”
“Wait a minute—Hey! You didn’t pay!”
4
“Ara? Takasugi-san, was it?” Tae asks, perpetual smile still plastered on her face as she addresses the man sitting in their table drinking tea.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here in Edo.” She continues; no crack appearing in her facade even once.
Calmly, Takasugi took one of the cups of tea Shinpachi brewed.
Taking a careful sip, Takasugi closed his eye. “I didn’t expect to still be here, either.”
Tae laughed demurely, her laugh just as fake as her sweet tone. “Done with destroying the world, are you?”
“Aneue!” Shinpachi cuts in, having just returned to the room. “Please, stop giving Takasugi-san a hard time already. And after he agreed to help with the dojo at that.”
Blinking her eyes innocently, Tae lifted a sleeve to her lips. “Oh my, was I giving Takasugi-san a hard time?”
“Aneue!”
A deep chuckle suddenly caught the attention of the two siblings and they turn to look at Takasugi.
“It’s alright, I understand Shimura-san’s concerns. It must be worrying to have your little brother working in the same place as someone like myself.”
“Takasugi-san—“
“Hmm, So long as you understand, Takasugi-san.” Tae took a sip from her own cup of tea.
“I know Shin-chan has grown into such a fine man, and I did hear that you had my brother’s back in a life and death situation once. So I am going to be a bit more giving for now.”
She took another sip of tea.
“But I do have another concern.” She says as she placed the cup of tea down on the table, her eyes turning sharp and all pretences vanishing.
“Gin-san has seemed more unburdened these days, no?” She asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
“Aneue...” but a glance at his sister had Shinpachi shaking his head and reluctantly leaving the room. “I’ll refill the tea.”
When the door slid close, Tae continued. “As much as we may not like it, we do think it’s partially because of Takasugi-san that Gin-san became like that.”
“...”
“We all love Gin-san, and even though he’s an idiotic lazy perm-head, he’s helped us all in some way. And we all agree that Gin-san deserves to be happy, no?”
She smiled, and this time, the threat wasn’t disguised as something sickly sweet.
“So please do keep Gin-san happy and refrain from hurting him. We wouldn’t want to hear of any horrible news, after all.”
Takasugi smiles. It was just a quirk of the lips, and yet, Tae knows it’s wholehearted sincerity.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Well. Maybe they wouldn’t have to worry, after all. And at that, Tae finally eases on Takasugi.
Delightedly clapping her hands together, Tae cheered, “Alright then! Enough somber talk for today, I cooked a new recipe I was working on just for Takasugi-san.”
Idly, Takasugi wondered if he should make a run for his life when Tae unveiled the box she was keeping to the side of the table.
5
“Hey, old man! I crashed my scooter again.”
“Ginnoji! You haven’t paid me back yet for the last three times I fixed your scooter for you! Pay me back first!”
“Hah?! What are you talking about?! I already paid for that, old man!”
“Saburo!”
Clunk. Thud. Clunk. Thud. Clunk.
“Alright, alright! I’ll pay you back later! Put me down!”
Metallic groaning. Thud.
“Anyway, I’ll be leaving this to you first, old man, we still have a client to meet.”
“Hmm? The kids are with you?”
“...”
“...ahhh, no, Takasugi went with me.”
Gengai stares at the man in front of him. This was the man who manipulated his pain for his own gain. The man who urged him to further spiral into a descent of madness.
Last he’d seen him, he was an aimless man whose smile felt feral and his gaze full of crazed thirst for blood.
Now here he was standing again before him, here he was, replaced by a man acting stoic and unaffected but vibrating with an unease that could only come from facing off those you’ve wronged.
“I see.”
Gintoki rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and the expression on his face was sheepish.
“Sorry. We really gotta go now, old man.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Gintoki, I’ll follow after you.”
Gintoki turns to Takasugi, surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now go, the client’s old lady Tsubaki, right? From near the dango shop?”
Hesitantly, Gintoki peers at Gengai’s blank expression, then turning back to Takasugi. What he sees must convince him because his eyes softens.
“...alright. I’ll wait for you.”
Gintoki walks away, and Takasugi waits until Gintoki is out of sight before facing Gengai.
“...”
“...”
“I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“I know it might mean nothing to you, and it wouldn’t change anything, but I’m sorry I used your son’s memory. He was a good warrior, and an even greater mechanic. I was privileged to have had him in my squad.”
It still hurts. The mention of his son. And this time is no different. The pain shoots sharply in his chest and Gengai looks down on the floor. He was able to gather the broken pieces of himself with the knowledge that there are people, both alive and dead, who would want to see him live his life to the fullest. People who would laugh with him in times of happiness, and people who would cry with him in times of sadness.
With a deep, shuddering breath, Gengai looked back up at Takasugi, this time, not seeing the man who manipulated him, but seeing a man with a look he recognized; a man with that same look he’d seen in the mirror. So, with a grin and a laugh, Gengai patted Takasugi on the back, making Takasugi shove forward with the force of his pats.
Takasugi stared at the old mechanic in befuddlement.
“You’re alright, kid.” He says, only serving to confuse Takasugi further.
“. . .Don’t you hate me?”
With a shake of his head, Gengai turned his back and ambled to one of his projects. “Maybe I should hate you. Maybe I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t know, I’m only a mechanic. I’m an expert with robots, not humans. But you’re not the only one who did bad things, yeah? You might have encouraged me to destroy the festival, to make everyone hurt as much as I’ve been hurt, but it was still something I decided to do myself in the end. And, you know. It gave me the closure I didn’t know I needed.”
. . .
“And besides,” Gengai turns, hand waving the wrench in his grip. “I fully expect you to make Ginnoji pay for his commissions now, got that?”
Closing his eye, Takasugi huffed out a small laugh.
“Got it.”
+1
Gintoki stirred from his sleep. Adjusting his eyes to the bright light filtering in through the window, he pushes himself up from the futon and tries to clear his sleep-muddled mind.
Turning to the side, he was treated with the rare sight of Takasugi still fast asleep. His face was relaxed, and the morning light gently caressed his cheek.
It brought a smile to Gintoki’s face; seeing Takasugi free of worries for once.
He knows it hasn’t been easy for the other man; that most of the time Takasugi felt like he was fumbling through the darkness with only a sliver of thread guiding him.
Gintoki also knows that Takasugi worries he wouldn’t be able to find a place for himself here. But, Gintoki thinks to himself—no, he promises to himself, that so long as Gintoki was here, Takasugi would always have a place with him; by his side, in his heart, and in his life.
“What are you doing?” Takasugi murmured. His drowsy eye blinking awake.
Gintoki hummed, still idly playing with the dark strands of Takasugi’s hair.
“Nothing. Your hair’s getting longer.”
He pouted when Takasugi sat up, dislodging Gintoki’s hand from his hair.
“…so it has. Should I cut it?” Takasugi mumbled to himself.
Gintoki shrugged. “It looks good on you.”
“You just like to play with it.” Takasugi says wryly.
“Oops, you caught me.” Raising an arm, Gintoki dropped the both of them back to the futon.
“Let’s not work today.” He whispers to the other man’s ear, earning himself a swat to the arm.
“We haven’t even been able to pay for any of our bills yet. Get up idiot.”
“Come onnn,” Gintoki whined, internally smirking when he sees Takasugi wavering.
Takasugi glares at him. “I know what you’re doing. So stop that. We’re working.”
With another pouty whine, Gintoki curls himself behind Takasugi, head buried on his shoulder.
“…”
A sigh.
“We’re still working today, Gintoki. You won’t change my mind on that.” Then he hesitated, making Gintoki lift his head up, only to be greeted with the sight of Takasugi faintly blushing, much to his glee. “But—after work,maybe we can go to that cafe you liked so much, the one with the strawberry parfaits in front.”
“Alright.” Gintoki concedes, because who in their right mind would turn down parfait? And as a date with Takasugi at that. “and after that we can go buy your Yakulco at the store.”
“Deal. Now let me up. Shimura-kun would be coming by any moment now, and Kagura is probably already awake.”
Gintoki snorted. “Kagura won’t be awake until noon.” But he does let go of Takasugi and stands up.
He watches Takasugi fix himself up, and unable to resist himself, draws near and drops a kiss on top of Takasugi’s hair.
“What was that for?” Takasugi asked, his hands pausing from what he was doing.
“Nothing. Just felt like it. I’m gonna go cook breakfast, you take your time.”
And as Gintoki muses his words in the kitchen, he thinks to himself, Takasugi could take all the time he needed. Gintoki doesn’t mind waiting.