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Following the disaster that had been her campaign for a Christmas present, Kagura is far more forthcoming with her next demand. “Gin-chan,” she mumbles around a mouthful of sukonbu one morning, “I want a new umbrella.” Gintoki doesn’t look up from the week’s copy of Jump.
“Gin-chan,” Kagura repeats, poking him with her foot. “Gin-chan. Gin-chan. GIN-CHAN”, and she kicks the Jump across the room and almost out the still blind-less window, leaving Gintoki staring at his hands. Kagura makes sure she has her full Yato glare going, and pins him down with it. “New umbrella,” she intones.
Gintoki squeaks in a manner highly undignified of a Joui war hero and raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
“W-wait, Kagura-chan, you already have a lovely umbrella.” He casts a longing look towards the Jump, but Kagura puts her foot down. “Oi, listen up you permanent perm. If I don’t get a new umbrella you’re not getting your weekly Jump.”
“A-A-ah is that right? And how…?”
Gintoki is spared by the sound of the door opening. Shinpachi appears before them, looking a little flustered. “Sorry I’m a bit late today. Kagura-chan, Gin-san, good –! Kagura-chan, what are you doing?!”
“Taking out the trash,” she growls, not bothering to turn around.
Shinpachi stares. Kagura is the shortest of them, and yet with that look on her face she seems to tower over a very, very small Gintoki, who is now backed into a corner of the couch looking like he wants to sink right through it.
“Shinpachi-kun, save me!” Gintoki whines in a loud whisper around Kagura.
Hell no. Shinpachi knows better than to annoy a Yato no matter how small, which is obviously how his idiot of a boss got into this predicament. He turns to Kagura instead and smiles brightly. “Ah, is that right, Kagura-chan? But I’m not sure whether Gin-san is combustible or non-combustible trash, and it’s important we know, otherwise we’ll put him out on the wrong day.”
Gintoki shoots him a look of utter contempt. You little – he mouths. Shinpachi doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Say, what is this about anyway, Kagura-chan?”
“Gin-chan won’t buy me a new umbrella.”
“Oh? What’s wrong with the one you have now?”
“It’s not – I don’t know, not pretty enough!”
“I was just saying, it’s a perfectly fine umbrella, very pretty, works a treat in sun or rain! Isn’t that right, Patsuan?” Shinpachi ignores him. “I don’t know where we’d get a bulletproof umbrella which can also shoot bullets,” he says. Yato umbrellas aren’t exactly common around here…
“Well,” Kagura says, deflating visibly, “I don’t mind a normal umbrella, just one for going out to the market or visiting Anego. I mean, I do like the one I have now, but it’d be nice to have a – a spare umbrella, right?”
“Out of the question,” Gintoki huffs, apparently not having learnt his lesson. “Does Gin-san look like a walking moneybag? We hardly have enough to spend on food; that dog doesn’t even earn its keep and it somehow eats all our money! Oi, isn’t Sadaharu your responsibility, Kagura?”
“Gin-san, why does Sadaharu always become Kagura-chan’s responsibility when it’s convenient for you?”
“You might not know this, but I’m allergic to responsibility, I’m responsibility intolerant! I need to live on a diet of sweets –”
“That’s lactose intolerant and like hell you do!”
“Sadaharu, don’t listen to him!” Ignoring the other two, Kagura rushes over to the huge dog, who has been sleeping through the entire exchange. He flicks an ear, whines, and resumes snoring. Shinpachi sighs.
“Eh, Kagura-chan, I don’t think Sadaharu can hear you…”
“See what I mean? Completely useless, all he does is eat and sleep and take huge dumps which we have to clean up after ─”
“Gin-san, that’s exactly what you do,” Shinpachi says without a hint of remorse, while Kagura reassures Sadaharu he’s a valued member of their family and definitely not a burden, unlike that good-for-nothing Gin-chan who makes his poor, underpaid workers do everything while he lazes around drinking strawberry milk.
“She has a point, Gin-san.” It’s Shinpachi’s turn to glare at Gintoki. “You know, maybe you should buy her a new umbrella. It doesn’t have to be a top-of-the-range umbrella or anything fancy like that, but even a bamboo umbrella would be nice.”
“Eh? Are you two seriously trying to guilt trip me into this? You planned this, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
Even for one who is the mothering type, Shinpachi is uncannily competent in the don’t talk back to me glare. Gintoki wisely concedes to a shopping trip.
*
With Kagura holding Gintoki’s Jump hostage (or more accurately, Sadaharu holding it hostage in his giant, slobbering jaws – “buy me an umbrella before Sadaharu eats it”, Kagura says far too gleefully), the three of them trawl the streets for umbrellas. They’ve canvassed seven stores and interrogated five shopkeepers, but nothing to Kagura’s taste has showed up. (And the Jump is on the verge of falling apart)
“D’you have to be so picky?” Gintoki moans, dragging his feet like a petulant child.
“D’you have to complain so much?” Kagura imitates his slouch and tone so perfectly Gintoki straightens up out of self-consciousness. Her usual purple umbrella is open, shielding her from the morning sun.
“Ah, Kagura-chan, there’s an umbrella stand over there.” Shinpachi points at a rack of umbrellas in front of a store a little way up the road.
When they get there, Kagura rifles casually through a few. “Are you kidding me? I couldn’t even use these as toothpicks!”
The storekeeper, a balding man wearing a monocle, huffs indignantly. “Miss, I think you’ll find these would make fine toothpicks – I mean, umbrellas.”
“Nah, old man, I’m good.” Kagura moves off a few paces when he yells, “Ah, wait, wait! I see you’re a young woman with delicate sensibilities.”
Kagura stops, and turns around to stare expectantly.
“Eh… a young lady of delicate sensibilities and highly refined taste.”
Shinpachi’s eyebrow twitches. “Really.” Gintoki doesn’t even try to disguise his laughter. But Kagura huffs and makes a great show of sauntering back to the storefront.
“Well then, what've you got?”
“See here,” the seller cries, backing into his store. He reaches the counter and puts a hand underneath it, pressing a button that makes the entire back wall fold in on itself with a fanfare and flashing lights, revealing a grid of umbrellas on metal racks.
“Um, what is this?” Shinpachi says, disbelief etched all over his face. “What kind of umbrella seller are you?” Behind him, Kagura and Gintoki look just as gobsmacked, and even Sadaharu’s jaw has dropped, the Jump lying in a puddle of saliva. As soon as he sees it, Gintoki screams “MINE!” and swoops in, but Kagura recovers from her shock in time to send him crashing face-first into the ground with her umbrella.
“Sadaharu, make sure he doesn’t move.” On hearing Kagura’s voice, Sadaharu comes to and yips in the affirmative. Then he picks up Gintoki, head first, who has just enough time to say, “Y-Y-You can hold the Jump, good boy!” before Sadaharu swallows his entire head.
“As you can see,” the man continues, “We have some excellent umbrellas here.”
“Excuse me, I can’t see.” Gintoki’s voice is muffled. “How do I know if you’re showing our innocent Kagura-chan something inappropriate?”
“You’re one to talk,” Shinpachi retorts. “And what could be so inappropriate about an umbrella that you’d object to it? Get your head out of the gutter!”
“I would, if you’d let me put it in the gutter in the first place. Get this damn dog to let go of my head!”
“Don’t think you can escape with the Jump so easily,” Kagura tells him. And with that, both turn their attention to the umbrellas. The shopkeeper plucks one from the middle row and opens it with a flourish. The umbrella is entirely white, except for a pair of eyes drawn in black on the front and a flap of yellow fabric sticking out like a beak.
“This one’s resistant to swords, bazookas, bombs, and UV rays. Not only is it durable, it’s safe for laundry! You’ll be able to clean off those pesky everyday stains like curry, soy sauce, and blood in no time. Very affordable, though I’m willing to take a further 10 percent off.”
“Er, excuse me,” Shinpachi says darkly, “Who’s supposed to use this umbrella exactly? And since when did the Jouishishi have time to do their laundry?”
“Shinpachi, don’t butt in, okay? It’s my umbrella, so I’ll decide.”
He sighs and tries to compromise. “Alright, how about we look at the others before you decide?”
Kagura grumbles, but she’s eyeing the remaining umbrellas with interest. The shopkeeper rubs his hands together and opens another one – this time it’s coloured black with gold edging. “Now, this beauty may look as pretty as a bishounen character, but it’s really quite deadly.”
“What kind of metaphor is that?” Shinpachi says. “You’re not being subtle, the author’s not even trying to be subtle at all!”
“Well,” the man continues jovially, “There’s an in-built bazooka in the handle, and for a little extra I’ll throw in a chain and whip; you never know when those might come in handy, right?”
“What are you implying, you pervert?!”
Kagura wrinkles her nose. “Look, if I wanted bazookas or laser cannons I’d go to old man Gengai.”
“Kagura-chan, that’s not the point!”
“Never fear!” the shopkeeper proclaims. He tosses the black umbrella aside and selects another from the top right hand corner. “I’m sure you’ll love this, young lady!”
“I don’t see how it’s any different,” Shinpachi mutters. “It’s also black and gold.”
“Do you need to replace your glasses or something? There’s a mayonnaise bottle on this one!” Kagura points to a misshapen lump on the tip of the open umbrella that could be a bottle, but could just as easily be a petrified jellyfish.
“Oi, how do you know what that thing is?”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” The shopkeeper directs them to stand behind him, then pumps the handle twice in rapid succession. To Shinpachi’s horror and Kagura’s delight, a river of mayonnaise spurts out and rapidly pools on the floor.
“There, you see, you can snack on the go. Delightfully convenient, isn’t it?”
“IT’S NOT CONVENIENT AT ALL!!!”
“Shinpachi, nobody asked you.”
The man folds up the umbrella (still dripping mayonnaise), and looks at them hopefully. “Would you like to take a look at the rest of the range? If mayonnaise isn’t to your liking, we have anpan, perhaps you’d prefer bananas?”
“NO!” Shinpachi screeches. “How would either of those even work?!” Kagura rolls her eyes, steps on his foot, and shakes her head. “Don’t you have any smaller umbrellas?”
The shopkeeper scans the remaining umbrellas on display. “How about this?” He takes down an umbrella shorter than the previous ones, and opens it with one flick of the wrist. It’s purple, or what one could reasonably call lilac, and red frills line the edge. On top of the umbrella is a pattern of interlocking chains.
“Here,” the shopkeeper says, offering it to Kagura. “Give it a try.” She takes the handle, hefting it. Then she closes it, and swings it around experimentally. For good measure, Kagura points the umbrella in a random direction. She isn’t expecting bullets, but she also isn’t expecting the ropes which shoot out the tip and proceed to wrap themselves around the nearest human being.
“OI!” Shinpachi shrieks, now trussed up from the ceiling in a somewhat comprising position. “Put me down right now!”
The shopkeeper looks at Kagura with newfound respect. “The umbrella chooses its owner, Miss,” he says solemnly.
“Quit with the Harry Potter references and get me down!” Shinpachi yells. Kagura shrugs, waves the umbrella again, and much to Shinpachi’s relief and then pain, the ropes evaporate and he thuds to the wooden floor.
“It’s nice, but I want something that’s not going to get me censored,” Kagura says. Shinpachi nods furiously in the background. The shopkeeper turns to his collection and regards it thoughtfully. Eventually, he opens an umbrella coloured somewhere between pink and salmon, decorated with a pattern of flowers.
“It looks really pretty,” Kagura says approvingly. She picks the umbrella up and twirls around. “How do I look, Shinpachi?”
Shinpachi, who has just worked out the crick in his back, gives her a weak thumbs up. “I think it suits you, Kagura-chan.”
“This one’s quite special,” the shopkeeper beams. “Here, let me show you.” He whips out a spray bottle and squirts water over the umbrella. Right before their eyes, the pink gives way to white, and a thin red line blossoms around the edge. The flowers fade from view, leaving only a single eyepatch stretching across the top.
“See? The design changes when it rains. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Shinpachi gawks. If possible, Kagura’s smile grows even wider. She checks the price tag on the handle. The smile vanishes. “I don’t think even Gin-chan’s secret stash of money will pay for this.”
“Kagura-chan, what –”
Shinpachi freezes, staring at the doorway. “Kagura-chan… where’s Gin-san gone?” Sadaharu is lying in front of the store asleep, the Jump pinned firmly beneath one huge paw, but there’s no sign of Gintoki.
They both run outside and look around frantically, ignoring the shopkeeper’s shouted questions. It’s a weekend and the streets are crammed with people, none of whom sport silver hair, let alone a silver perm.
“That bastard!” Kagura scrunches one fist up and punches the ground with enough force to leave a small smoking crater. Passers-by eye her cautiously and start edging away. “He’s probably gone to pachinko or to eat a parfait or – or –” Kagura snarls something impolite and leaps onto Sadaharu, about to give chase.
“Really,” Shinpachi sighs, “Gin-san should’ve known better.”
Which is exactly when Gintoki, silver perm and all, comes trotting up the street waving at them and grinning with an obliviousness that could rival Katsura’s. “Oi, Kagura, Shinpachi!”
“YOU!” Kagura bellows, pointing her umbrella at him. Somewhat coincidentally, the skies darken with storm clouds and any remaining shoppers scatter in record time, doors slamming shut along the entire street. Being the stupidest samurai in the universe, Gintoki keeps waving.
Shinpachi takes one glance at how livid Kagura is and rethinks his previous statement. “Kagura-chan, please calm down! You don’t really have to kill Gin-san, you know!” But it’s Sadaharu who moves first, the dog barking in delight and bounding towards Gintoki with an incensed Yato girl on his back. Gintoki takes one look at the oncoming storm and sees, somewhat too late, that he’s made a mistake. Shinpachi watches in horror as Kagura raises her umbrella over her head – the look in her eyes is murderous – and all he can do is shout GIN-SAN – when Gintoki plants his feet firmly into the ground and opens an umbrella of his own.
Sadaharu comes to a screeching halt in front of Gintoki, and Kagura semi-crash lands next to the dog, opening her umbrella at the last minute to slow her fall. Shinpachi rushes up to them, panting.
“Are you alright, Gin-san, Kagura-chan?”
“I’m fine, but no thanks to this dog here,” Gintoki grumbles.
“Where did you go?” Kagura demands. “And what’s with that umbrella? How’d you even buy it? Alright, fess up. Who’d you steal from this time?”
“Kagura-chan,” Gintoki whines, placing a hand over his heart and feigning hurt, “Do you think so little of me?”
“I’ll tell you what I really think,” Kagura snarls, which is when the heavens open, the downpour shocking her into momentary silence. Shinpachi yells at the sudden cold, and Sadaharu whimpers mournfully.
Gintoki immediately raises his umbrella over his head. “Well then. Guess I’ll just head back with my shiny new umbrell –”
“Oh no you don’t,” Shinpachi growls, catching Gintoki by the sleeve. Kagura grabs his other sleeve. “Gin-chan,” she says sweetly, “I think my umbrella’s broken.”
“Eh? Lies! Lies!” Gintoki yelps, but he can’t let go of the umbrella without getting himself horrendously wet and ruining his hair, and both children have a look in their eyes which he suspects means they’d take any excuse to dump him, umbrella-less, in the middle of a storm. Stupidest samurai the universe he may be, but he’s not that stupid. Sadaharu butts him none too gently from behind.
“Fine, fine, I’m going, I’m going.” Gintoki sighs deeply. “It’s a mutiny, you’re all conspiring against me!” But he keeps walking forward, umbrella firm and steady and covering all three of them. Sadaharu sneezes, just managing to get his head under the umbrella. In his jaws is the drenched Jump, its writing probably illegible by now, but still in one piece.