Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It all started at nine in the morning when a species of rhino Amanto decided to establish control over the people of Edo.

Kagura, Gin and Shinpachi were lounging on the couches, Kagura and Shinpachi finishing their rice and egg bowls. Gin himself was a little too hungover to enjoy the prospect of eating at the moment.

"Say, what's that on the news?" Shinpachi was the first to notice. The TV flashed with breaking news. Kagura turned the volume up.

"—invaded the Town Hall. The intruders have not listed any ransom…"

"Amanto attacked the Town Hall?" Gin asked in disbelief.

"It now seems their plans are far more extens—Ahhhh!" The reporter was scooped up by a rhino amanto holding a sword and pulled into the building. The camera flipped around to face the cameraman.

"This is…ah, Kasa Furui signing out for this news report." The screen went blank. Gin jumped up, hangover forgotten and bokuto at hand.

"We need to rescue Ketsuno Ana!" He cried. Kagura stood up and cracked her knuckles in agreement.

Within fifteen minutes, the Yorozuya had arrived on-scene and snuck into the town hall.

"Remember to be quiet." Kagura warned them as they ducked behind large wooden crates the Amanto had brought in.

"Kagura-chan, you reminding us to be quiet breaks our previous no-speaking-while-sneaking rule," Gin admonished. "Those clunkheads might hear us."

"Hear you? We can see you."

Gin sheepishly turned around and stood up, facing a growing semi-circle of twenty armed Amanto.

"Gin-san, they're all carrying swords. Real swords." Shinpachi whispered.

"That's not what we should be worried about," Gin frowned, his eyes narrowing. Shinpachi and Kagura instinctively tensed and readied themselves. "Stay back. Rhinos are known to eat their own shit."

The rhino closest to them looked incredibly affronted. "That's not true! We communicate with our feces! Occasionally!"

Kagura stuck out her tongue. "Ew! That's really gross!"

"Shut up! It's not like a phone call or anything, it's to—"

"Also," Gin stage-whispered to his friends, "they have alarmingly small brains for their size."

"That's it! We're taking you three for slaves as well." He gestured for a group of Amanto to lead them towards a rather large group of hostages, including Ketsuno Ana. Shinpachi was antsy but complied, waiting for the right moment, when Gin would signal their attack. An amanto grabbed Gin's arm and moved to handcuff him and that's when he struck, fast like a praying mantis to his victim.

His sword left a thin red line down the side of the amanto's face. Gin put some distance between them in surprise as Shinpachi and Kagura engaged the others. His attack should have been strong enough to cut a car in half. No, it must have been, it had the same pressure on his hands. It was the amanto's thick hide, which was tough enough to negate that incredible damage. And there were over thirty of them in the compound.

The amanto drew his own sword and Gin jumped in the air to evade it. They were skilled too, it seemed. His eyes darted quickly over to Kagura and Shinpachi. Already, they were being forced back-to-back. Gin struck again, hitting the rhino in the chest. Barely a scratch. He must have stopped moving in shock, because he felt the Amanto's sword grave his forehead, cutting a deep, bleeding cut across his eye. Gintoki ran around the heavy creature, standing in front of the amanto and the hostages who were just starting to run towards the exit. Kagura and Shinpachi, ever-helpful, followed his lead. Now only if they could buy some time…

"Kagura-chan! Shinpachi-kun! Keep moving!" Gin shouted at his companions at his heels. They were all pretty roughed up from holding their own against the amanto for almost twenty minutes. Gin's wooden sword had barely been able to cut through the rhino's thick hide. Shinpachi's sword could scarcely leave a mark and Kagura's punches had little effect to not affect. Gin wiped away the blood pooling in his eyes from a cut on his eyebrow. Even Gin couldn't keep up with an army of semi-indestructible creatures.

The Yorozuya rounded a corner, with the Amanto quick on their trail. "Quick, in here!" Gin called, opening a bank safe and climbing in. After Shinpachi and Kagura were safely inside, he slammed it shut and listened at the door. Slowly, the incredibly loud stampeding feet of the Amantos faded away.

"Good plan, Gin-chan," Kagura breathed in relief. She'd been banged up pretty badly, sporting a deep cut on her leg and an arm as well as a considerable trauma to her head, judging by the blood dripping down her neck. Despite that, she still had plenty of endurance. Shinpachi next to her sighed in relief, holding his hand to one of the many long scratches across his arm. At least he'd managed to dodge the majority of the blows.

"Alright, then. Let's sneak the other way and regroup before—huh? Huh?" Gin tried the door. It didn't budge. He took a second to summon his strength, acknowledging he was probably just tired from the fighting and knocking four of the rhinos senseless. He strained against the door but it wouldn't budge.

"Huh?" Sweat and blood dripped down his face. It must be that he was closer to the end of his endurance than expected. He was more exhausted than from the battle against Kyuubei and her family. He eased himself down the wall with a sigh to wrap a gash on his thigh. Shinpachi pulled his Otsu headband out of nowhere and after a moment's hesitation, handed it to Gin to wrap the wound.

"I'm sorry, Otsu-chan! I'll make a hundred more!" Shinpachi yelled before Kagura slapped him to keep him quiet.

"Kagura-chan, will you try the door?" Gin asked, not at all reacting to his friend's behavior.

Kagura nodded, standing in front of the vault door and cracking her knuckles. "Here we go!" She strained, using all of her superior Yato strength against the door. Even after ten seconds of incredible force, it didn't so much as creak.

The realization that they were stuck inside until reinforcements found them first dawned on Shinpachi, who watched as Kagura completely failed at forcing the vault open. They were stuck indefinitely in a space roughly the size of a dorm room. Soon, Kagura gave up, shaking her head.

"We're stuck."

Gin stood up again and positioned his sword to take a great swing across the metal door. The quick, powerful swing caused an awful noise but did no damage to the door. Gin carefully looked over his bokuto's wooden edges for dulling.

"Yeah, we're stuck."

Five hours passed from where they'd first been trapped in the vault.

"The Shinsengumi will get orders to attack soon. They'll get us out of here." Gin told them. The Amanto had suddenly gone violent against the people of Edo. It was only time until they got them out. They just had to be patient. Gin swiped cold sweat off his forehead. Even though he hadn't done anything labor intensive since trying to get out of the vault, he hadn't stopped sweating.

"Ugh, I feel like a retired Disney movie…" Gin whined. What he wouldn't do for some strawberry milk right now…

Shinpachi and Kagura were arguing in the corner about which Shinsengumi was the most useless. Kagura was convinced it was Sougo while Shinpachi was inclined to say it was Yamazaki the Ryoma Echizen-wannabe.

Gin sighed from his position sitting against the wall near the vault door. By now, their wounds had staunched and Kagura and Shinpachi were ready to fight again once they got out of here. Gin himself was feeling a little lethargic and more than a bit hungry. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled quietly. If only he'd taken the chance to eat while he'd had it, instead of thinking about his hangover.

Six and a half hours

Gin stood up because he was starting to feel stiff and sweaty. Kagura had fallen asleep. But when he stood up, he had to put a hand on the wall until a feeling of dizziness faded. He worked a trapdoor-like vault box open from the floor, unzipped his pants and began peeing into it.

"G-Gin-san! What are you doing? That vault could contain someone's precious belongings!" Shinpachi shouted.

"Well, it still does," Gin replied, zipping his pants back up. "Now it just has something extra. Don't tell me you don't have to go."

A look of indecision crossed Shinpachi's face but less than ten seconds later, it was Shinpachi peeing into the trap door vault box while Gin rested against the wall.

"Told you."

Ten hours

Gin focused on his breathing. The cold sweat had lessened by now but the gnawing hunger had only grown stronger. He knew Kagura and Shinpachi were hungry too, they had eaten lunch several hours before the taxing fight. It was a little different for him though. His legs felt jittery, even though he was bouncing them. He felt more and more anxious as each minute passed. Were these Amanto going to kill the Shinsengumi? For all the shit he gave them, they were still friends to him. What if his decision to hide in here caused the slow dehydration death of Kagura and Shinpachi? Although, in his case, something akin to starvation could kill him first.

It was something Kagura and Shinpachi wouldn't have thought of. He himself treated it like a joke if he mentioned it at all. But after the taxing battle with an already empty stomach following a bender , it was unsurprising his hypoglycemia was starting to affect him here. Anxiety started bubbling in his chest, as tangible as the light sweat covering his body. Knowing this adrenaline and fear was merely a symptom of low blood sugar did nothing to staunch the fluttering nerves wrapping around his chest.

Shinpachi looked at him from where he was trying to get comfortable on the floor. "Gin-san? Aren't you going to try and get some sleep? There's nothing we can do for now."

Sleep? His stomach growled again, louder. His hands shook for a second before he reigned in control. If he could fall asleep, and that was a big "if." Sleeping during a hypoglycemic episode could lead to night terrors and/or screaming. So, no he wasn't going to sleep. And if the Amanto came in and he didn't wake up in time, their deaths would be on him—no, that was just the chemical imbalance in his brain speaking. "I'll pass."

His voice must have shaken a bit when he spoke, because Shinpachi looked at him strangely. "Gin-san? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Even his friend's worry grated on his nerves. He pushed that feeling down. Symptoms were sprouting up left and right, now that his mild episode was turning into something more moderate.

Before Shinpachi could say anything, the vault door opened. Just as he was trained, Gin was up faster than his mind could process. His movement jarred his brain, and he had to resist the urge to throw up. He stopped his movement when he saw what was on the other side of the door. Half a dozen or more amanto. This time they had guns.

"Don't move a muscle, Samurai." They looked critically at Shinpachi and Kagura, who had just woken up, but not moved, but still had a dangerous look in her eye.

Gin was confident that even in his condition he could disarm at least three of them, with a push of his remaining energy and only get minor injuries. But that was if he had his sword. And he'd left it across the small room. He tightened his fists in anger and shook his head at his tensed charges.

"So we've found our captives. I must say, this is a useful place to hold you until we deal with the other rebels." The Amanto in front said.

Gin realized that his sword might help even if he couldn't wield it against them. He focused on keeping his voice steady and holding himself upright, using his most haughty voice.

"You think you can keep us in here? You've given me enough time to enter Sage Mode. It'll only take a swing of my bokuto to destroy this door!" He boasted.

The Amanto leader's ear twitched.

"He has a Sage Mode? That's pretty dangerous." One of the Amanto muttered. The head Amanto gestured to one of the Amanto behind him. "Retrieve his sword." The rhino did, handing it to him. "Earthling weapons are so uncouth. These are too primitive."

Gin flashed them a grin. "I would say something back but, unlike you, I'm not here to talk shit." The Amantos' faces turned bright red.

Finally the leader managed to speak again, grinding his teeth. "I think I will take this as a trophy. Enjoy the rest of your stay at our base." He said as he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

"Gin-chan, you idiot! Why did you give away your secret technique?" Kagura yelled once the footsteps had receded and she'd re-tried the door. Shinpachi's face said the same thing.

Gin couldn't resist a chuckle at their naiveté. "That was a trick. If the Shinsengumi see the Amanto using my sword, they'll know to look for us. Besides, it's no use to me right now. I don't have a secret Sage Mode, that's from Naruto…" Gin's legs abruptly collapsed from under him and he just barely managed to drop into a sitting position.

"Gin-san?"

"Gin-chan!"

His two friends rushed to his side.

"How badly are you wounded?" Shinpachi demanded, sure Gin had hidden a serious injury.

"I'm not hurt, I'm just really hungry." Gin huffed, a hand to his head, still dizzy.

Kagura and Shinpachi both leaned back a little. "Hungry?" Their faces were confused. They were all hungry. A little hunger was the least of their concerns. Although Kagura had probably been dreaming about food the entire time she'd been sleeping. Gin nodded a little miserably, feeling a melancholy mood swing come on. He owed them an explanation as to why a war-seasoned man would collapse from a few hours of hunger.

"My blood sugar's dipped pretty low by now. Honestly, I could go for a glass of strawberry milk…" He trailed off. He could practically hear the look they were giving each other.

"Your hypoglycemia? W-what happens if you don't get sugar, Gin-chan?"

Gin wondered if he should answer that. He'd guess he'd been in the throes of a hypoglycemic episode for about four or five hours, which was quickly wearing down both his endurance and health. It was a long time to be experiencing this kind of attack and someone less hardy would have been in very real danger by now. But he didn't want them more freaked out than he'd already made them. He'd prefer if they continued on like they had, arguing and peeing in a hole and napping…well, they'd all probably still pee in the hole regardless of what he told them but still…

With a little bit of difficulty, he roused himself from his thoughts. "Right now I'm having a hypoglycemic episode." It would be best if they knew because, if their rescue took too long, he could be rendered senselessly ill. His vision blurred for a moment before clearing. How many symptoms had appeared by now? "As my glucose level drops, I'm going to get sicker."

Shinpachi reacted just like expected. "What can we do to help?" His hand clutched Gin's shoulder.

Gin shook his head. "There's nothing we can do, short of pulling out a candy bar or insulin. We just have to wait for help." He wiped some sweat off his forehead, wondering if it actually would be dehydration to take him first after all. No. He pushed the morbid thoughts to the back of his mind. It wasn't him thinking that, it was his condition.

"Gin-chan, you look pale, you should lay down." Kagura urged. He complied. "Just rest for a little while." She looked scared, but he couldn't think of anything to tell her to reassure her.

Eleven hours

Gin realized belatedly that he'd been in a strange state of limbo verging on sleep when he sat up, gasping from dreaming he was falling off the floating boats of the Benizakura conflict. This time there was no Zura and no Elizabeth parachute.

As he focused on controlling his breathing and not feeling like he was going to throw up, he registered—to his mild surprise—that Shinpachi and Kagura were still awake. How long had he been asleep?

He felt strong hands holding him up as his vision blurred. His body had started shaking. He wasn't sure if it was Kagura or Shinpachi holding him up at this point.

"Gin-san, it's worse, isn't it?" It was Shinpachi. Of course it was worse, it certainly wasn't going to get any better. He felt another spark of panic, sharp like the ravenous hunger in his stomach, as he realized how mutated his thoughts were becoming, how difficult it was to keep himself in check. Gin bit his tongue. If he spoke to them like that…he shuddered to even think about it.

"Yeah, Shinpachi-kun, it's worse," he breathed. His vision had cleared again by now. Two faces scrunched in confusion while Gin decided if the room was slanting or it was just him.

"Gin-san," Shinpachi finally said in a sharp voice. "You're slurring your words like you're drunk. That's another symptom, isn't it?"

Gin shook his head. "It's a symptom but only for severe cases." He'd never gotten that bad. "I'm not slurring."

Kagura grabbed his hand, which had a constant tremor. His grip was almost painfully tight but stopped the tremor so he didn't try to pull away, even in his slightly disoriented state.

"Gin-chan, you're definitely slurring! What's going to happen if we can't get you out of here soon? Will you die?" Her voice quickened as she spoke like a rush of a waterfall. Her last question felt a lot like hitting the rocks below to Gin.

Shinpachi tried to cut her off by covering her mouth but it was too late. Gin trembled involuntarily, shining with sweat and dizzy, thinking about how to answer her question. Another swing of emotion hit him. A bright, candy-flavored panic. How could he be feeling happiness of all things? He chuckled. Then giggled because the idea of a samurai dying from something like this, in a bank vault, was unthinkable. He could feel his blood sugar plummeting, though. He'd been able to endure, but it was getting harder and harder, and every hour into his attack, he felt like he was losing more himself. Getting closer and closer to insulin shock. It was absolutely ridiculous. Utterly laughable.

Okay, so he was slurring, and his emotions were warping into something else. He was pretty sure he was grinning like a maniac. Gin managed to stop and drew careful breaths over his glucose starved body. This was the lamest way to die in the history of anything. But who said he was going to die?

He decided on what to say. "Kagura-chan, Shinpachi-kun. I'll start acting differently soon. Not like myself. I may be aggressive or irritable or depressed or panicked but it's not me, it's just the episode. If I say something that scares you, don't believe me—Ignore me. We'll get out of this situation." How was it that he could whole-heartedly believe what he told his companions while he said it, but doubt it entirely when he looked in their eyes?

Kagura teared up. "You're scaring me right now, can I not believe you now?"

Gin thought about it. "No. Starting now." A tremor ran through his spine and he groaned in sick misery. What had caused such a powerful and quickly-onset attack? He'd gone longer than this with physical strain and without food before with nothing more than some dizziness and irritability. Was it just bad luck this time around?

Thirteen hours

Hijikata, Kondo and Sougo sat, waiting for a meeting with the Commander. It had been slow-going, as official permissions so often were, but they'd finally gotten audience with the powerful man and with luck, were going to be granted permission to engage against the violent Amanto group.

"How much do you want to bet Yorozuya and those kids are already knee-deep in this?" Hijikata said, inhaling in smoke from his cigarette.

"I hope Boss leaves some for us. I've been in a murdery mood all day." Sougo added. Hijikata just sighed.

"Knowing him, there won't be."

Gin was still sitting against the wall, patiently waiting for this to end, for them to be saved and that maybe he could knock a few of those shit-eaters out before his weakness caught up with him. Shinpachi was seated near him, sword twisting in his hands. He and Kagura would check on Gin periodically. His skin was paler now and he slumped, breathing heavily against the strange emotions roiling inside of him. He'd feel anger and fever, then dread and a freezing feeling and his stomach and fear which exacerbated his shakes. He eyed his friends as they periodically touched their stomachs. They were getting hungry too, thirsty too, but they wouldn't let it show. As he thought this, a steady wave of nausea started building up in the back of his throat and put pressure on his skull, stinging his eyes. Gulping, he waited for it to subside. It didn't—mere moments later, he'd pulled himself over to the trap door vault and emptied his stomach of its illusory contents. Shinpachi and Kagura were at his side in seconds.

"Gin-san!"

"Gin-chan!"

He felt two pairs of hands on his shoulders and back, one set like a vice, like a scared cat clinging to a branch in a swell of a river, and the other securing him, one hand on his chest to prevent him from tilting forward into the piss vault, another on his shoulder, cold and clammy.

"Gin-chan, stop it! There's got to be something we can do!" Kagura's forehead pushed against Gin's neck. He was too closed in. Her orange hair was sticking to the cold sweat on his neck. It was claustrophobic. He flinched away. Kagura and Shinpachi both looked at him in shock. Gin had never shied away from the emotions of those he cared about if they were warranted, especially not from women or Kagura and Shinpachi.

"Gin-san?" Shinpachi tried. Gin's eyes were bright with discomfort, avoiding either of their eyes. His jaw was set in a tight line—tense.

"What?" Gin's tone was irritated, sharp, as he broke away from both their holds and stumbled back to the wall. Shinpachi and Kagura followed timidly and slowly.

"Are you feeling okay?" They approached again tentatively.

"No," Gin shot back, his hoarse voice as sharp and cutting as his throat felt, "I don't… Don't touch me. " His thirst had only increased after he'd thrown up the remains of the liquid in his stomach, then proceeded to dry heave. His pride had probably been thrown up along with that stomach acid. And it was a pretty good indicator that his condition was getting more serious, but his mind couldn't even focus on that fact at the moment. He was a warrior, a samurai, he didn't need to be taken care of by these two children. He'd fought with holes through his stomach and chest. He'd slashed down enemies with a sword piercing his leg. Gin did not want to be touched, didn't they know it was too hot in here? His eyes fluttered closed.

Blood was splashed around the ground, over and under fallen bodies. The blood was like the Kanji that Master Shoyou had taught him—he could read it just as easily. The splash over there, it was dotted like a spray, from a neck being opened up by steel, and over there, near a pale, day-old corpse, was the dark cherry pool that came from a slow-bleed stomach wound.

It wasn't to say that Gin felt at home on the battlefield, rather that for a long time, it had been the only home he'd had. Ever since his village had been slaughtered, he had wandered desolate, through a field of corpses and stained grass.

Gin reflected on him and his brothers in arms during the Amanto war. Their hands bathed up to the elbows in life-blood, streaks of gore across their chest from those whom their swords eviscerated. There wasn't a day where he wasn't glad that he was called Shiroyasha, the white demon, rather than Akayasha, the red one.

Hijikata crept along the outer perimeter of the town hall that was being held hostage. Sugou had taken most of the troops with him towards the front entrance to negotiate for whatever hostages hadn't been able to escape earlier. Kondo either had a great plan dreamt up or he was an idiot for letting Sugou handle the hostage negotiation. There would probably be no one left if he and his small team of infiltrators weren't able to deal with the problem before he could.

Hijikata led them down another hallway, then motioned for his team to push themselves against the wall as a group of Amanto walked past an intersecting hallway.

The nice thing about these terrorists were that they had incredibly loud footsteps. Hijikata waited for them to disappear from view before he turned around and beckoned to his team to move forward.

"We don't know where they're hiding the hostages. Our estimations are that there are between ten to twenty remaining in the building. Check rooms, avoid direct confrontation, and above all, God help us, if you see Yorozuya, don't let him shit on our plans! Go!"

Three teams split up, with Hijikata leading the back of his group as they checked broom closets, pantries and finally, the two members of his party disappeared into the girl's bathroom.

"We don't need to—" Hijikata sighed, shaking his head. "They're gone." Another door on his right caught his attention. It was steel and had a large wheel-like contraption on the outside. Looking both ways, he grabbed the handle and gave it a lurching tug. The metal creaked more than he had expected—thundering footsteps of one, maybe two tank-like rhino Amanto.

"For shit's—," he'd managed to pry the door open a few inches and slid through the gap, neatly shutting the door behind him. Instead of being greeted by brooms, mops, files or even girl's toilets, he saw Yorozuya and his kids.

Hijikata's face immediately puckered like he ate a lemon and his face started to sweat. "Huh? The door is jammed! Anyone out there, hello? Get me out of here!" He yelled, no longer caring who heard him. He did not want to be involved with whatever shenanigans the Yorozuya were currently ass-deep in. The door didn't budge, no matter what direction he pulled or pushed.

"Hijikata-san!"

Hijikata took a few desperate deep breaths before turning around to face them. "Ah, hello."

"We're so glad you're here! You've got to help us!" Kagura was in his face in a flash. Hijikata tried to back up but was kept from moving by the steel door.

"It's Gin!" Shinpachi said. Hijikata's eyes moved from eyeing the monster of a little girl, to Shinpachi, to the man who had not yet called out an insult at him. Sougo threw insults out more often but Yorozuya's were usually more focused and cut to the bone. Sort of like when you're given low sodium mayo instead of 1/4 fat mayo. But Gin was sitting against the wall, head between his knees. He hadn't acknowledged Hijikata's arrival.

"Yorozuya?" He asked cautiously. No response, except for Shinpachi shifting nervously behind him. This was unlike the man, even when he was sulking when he was in prison one of the dozen times they've had to arrest him. Seriously, didn't he understand how much work it was to either straight release them and feign innocence, or cook up some reason why they should be freed? Hijikata closed the distance between them and crouched hesitantly by the other man. "Gin?"

Hijikata watched carefully as the silver-haired man's lazy red eyes slowly turned to him. "Hijikata-san." His voice was hoarse and Hijikata was close enough he could clearly see how pale he was and that he had a sheen of sweat on his face. Other than looking at him guardedly, Gin made no other movement. More than Gin's reaction, Hijikata had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Hijikata looked back at the kids, who were staring at him hopefully. "What's wrong with him?"

Shinpachi shook his head. "We're not really sure. We've been in here for at least twelve hours. He said it's because of his low blood sugar and that he would keep getting worse."

"Alright," Hijikata frowned, steeling himself. "Gin? Hey." When he touched Gin's arm, Gin was suddenly in action again, scrambling away from his position against the wall, lifting himself up into a half-crouch.

"Hijikata, what are you doing here, you mayo freak?"

"I just came here to deposit a check. Why did it take so long for you to react? I've been waiting in line for hours."

"Eh?" Gin retorted, settling back down as his limbs protested violently. "You don't know how to deposit your checks online? Are you some kind of idiot?"

"Online checking? Huh, looks like it didn't work out well for you? Worse than when we tried to cash in that lottery ticket?" Hijikata approached again. If he couldn't even stand, he had to be doing badly. Looking him over, physically, he was kind of a mess. A few bruises blooming over his cheek and peaking out at his collar, barely-staunched cuts, a bloody…Otsu headband around his thigh.

"I was performing my duty as a citizen, teaching these two no-good kids how to do things off the internet." Gin returned, a little light returning to his exhausted, sunken eyes. Hijikata thought he heard a small sigh of relief from Shinpachi behind him.

Hijikata Toshiro pulled out his cigarette carton but didn't light a smoke. It was a pretty enclosed space. Could he really smoke like that in front of two kids and still have pride as a samurai? He considered it for a moment before doing it anyway.

WHACK.

Hijikata's next view was of the marble wall acquainting itself with his forehead and nose. "Ughh."

"You should show more manners around a lady and a sick person." Kagura yelled, being held back by Shinpachi.

"Kagura, I'm fine. I was just out of it for a moment." Gin said.

Hijikata stared sadly down at his cigarettes before tucking them back in his pocket and facing the Shiroyasha. "From what your employees told me, it was more than a moment. You were really out of it. What the hell is wrong with you? You want a parfait?"

Gin's tongue pushed the inside of his cheek in thought. "They probably already explained it. Unless you have an insulin shot or, yeah, a parfait, there's nothing you can do to help me." Gin looked around for a moment before bracing against the wall to help himself into a standing position. "But I can help myself and we're getting out of here."

"Gin-chan, I already tried, it's not budging." Kagura protested. Gin didn't say a thing, just stood in front of Hijikata expectantly, boring into his eyes. There it was, like always, something in that mysterious, albino, ex-Joui rebel that made Hijikata trust him, respect him, and want to follow him just to see what he'll do.

"Tch. Take it." He finally said, tossing his sword to the red-eyed man in exasperation. Gin caught it and unsheathed it in one fluid motion before stopping at the vault door. A drop of sweat fell from his jaw, trailing down the pristine surface of the metal blade. It felt strange to hold the weight of a metal blade in his hands again. Using a bokuto to fight was like working in thick gloves. With steel, it was almost like another sense, every vibration registering as touch; pressure, texture, strength, all sung through a good steel blade.

One deep breath, two, a third because the second felt like he was breathing under thick covers. He lifted his arm and steadied himself for a strike against the door, blinked his vision clear and struck.

Fourteen hours

A slow, reluctant cr—a-ackk came from the door as in a flash, Gin had moved from holding the sword in a hand to tearing at the thick vault door with a single swing. The hinges groaned and shuddered, an aborted high pitch whine of steel on steel, a trail of dust and metal shrapnel and then silence. Gin stared the offending door down. His score across the metal reaching from one end to the other. Hijikata bit back a huff of surprise.

He hadn't expected progress, especially in the state the kids' leader was in. But results didn't lie, his single blow had cut all the way through, eight inches into steel where he started, losing strength to the other side of the door where the gouge only made it halfway.

"Dammit, I thought I had gotten through…" Gin started to say, before his knees crumpled as his mind went blank. He was going straight for the floor, limp as a doll. Hijikata gave a shout of surprise and just managed to catch him. His arm caught Gintoki at the chest, under the arm and caught a fold of fabric on his back right before Gin's knees cracked against the floor.

"What—"

"Gin-san, you idiot!" Shinpachi cried out. Kagura turned and started hitting the door harder as Hijikata adjusted the samurai's dead weight against the side of the room again.

"That was a dumb move, Dead-eyes," Hijikata told him, shaking his shoulder slightly, seeing if he could elicit a response. "Hey wake up, only a dumbass could follow that up with something so lame."

Gin grabbed Hijikata's wrist, startling him. He could hear his own pulse in his wrists moving so fast, too fast. Too fast. So fast and with every beat he felt hotter and his vision blacker. Darker. "Take care of them." He rasped, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Gin—dammit." He said as Gin's head fell forward. Shinpachi clung to his shoulder like a squirrel to a tree. Only Sougo could be heartless enough to see any humor in it though. Hijikata evaluated the situation. His breathing was shallow, and if he had been sweating when he had first found them, Gin's skin was dry now. Probably a sign of dehydration, or worse. He tried his pulse. Erratic. Beating fast enough it was hard to tell, even though the man was at rest. All this kick-back for only one mighty sword swing. What had the man been thinking?

They had been fighting or ducking behind trees to rest for almost fourteen hours but Gin and Katsura had been ambushed and separated on their way back to safety. They looked at each other, squinting to see past the dust and sweat dripping in their eyes from the trench they were taking shelter in. Gin clutched his chest, willing the thin cuts across his body from an Amanto's rapier to staunch.

"We have to get back," Katsura said. "We're hours late to the rendezvous at camp. And we're in need of medical attention too."

"Quiet, Zura," Gin hissed.

"It—" A large explosion just a few feet above their heads sounded off. Katsura and Gin tensed, hands over their heads for several seconds. Pieces of shrapnel that had lost their momentum toppled into the ditch they were hidden in, dropping ominously at their feet. These types of explosions were uncommon and incredibly jarring.

"Gintoki, are you alright to move to the next ditch?" The Bakufu army had been firing from their own cover, and they would be too scared to approach. As long as they could make the run, they would have temporary respite farther from the battleground. Perhaps the Amanto would be distracted again by other groups of rebels.

"Of course I am. Are you?" Gin replied, hoisting himself up into a crouch and fixing his eyes on their next run for shelter sixty feet away.

"Me? I'm fine." Katsura's hand touched his shoulder, making Gin turn around to look at his black-haired friend's sharp eyes. "But you're pretty shaky."

Gin's dull eyes meet his with surprising intensity. "Three, two, one, GO!" Without any more warning, Gin was charging to their next cover.

No good, Gin thought. The Amanto might not have known exactly where they'd be but their desperate dash for more cover disclosed their location easily enough. Within three seconds of their charge, they were dodging bullets. Shiroyasha, for all the fear and intimidation he inadvertently caused, his white hair and clothes also attracted a lot of attention from the enemy. Two bullets scraped past his legs as he lurched to the side to avoid one puncturing his ribs. Something moving by his shins were enough to take him off balance and Gin felt all his weight re-distribute to his front foot as he fell forward, brain too foggy to right itself.

A bloody hand flashed out, grabbing his collar and dragging him forward while he continued moving. It was all Gin could do to follow its trajectory and run, still doubled over. Gin couldn't even focus on their destination, couldn't see through the blood in his eyes, just ran and trusted his friend to lead him.

He felt something impact the tree in front of him, sending a spray of splinters in his face. He heard Katsura in front of him curse and he felt the hand on his collar tug him in closer as a second and a third bullet hit a few inches behind him.

In seconds, they were sliding down into the second trench. Everything tumbled around Gin as he felt the rough dirt on his cheek and stomach. It took several seconds before he could make sense of where they were, several feet below ground, Katsura sparing just a second to peek over cover before ducking back down. Strange, Gin thought, moving his hand out in front of him to grab his sword which had somehow come out of his sheathe. His hand reached out and hit dirt instead. How strange, he thought.

Just as he was getting to his elbows, Katsura's hand pulled him up to his knees, this time by his collar. "What was that, Gintoki?" His voice was quiet enough that it wouldn't be heard over the gunfire but just loud enough that Gin winced.

"What's wrong with you? If I hadn't grabbed you…you dropped your sword! You wouldn't drop your sword even if your arm were cut off!"

Gin tried giving Katsura that invasive stare of his but his eyes kept un-focusing and he found himself staring at his cheeks or chin or the blurry brown behind them. His throat felt dry. Which was strange because the rest of him felt wet. Especially his legs.

Katsura held him there, seething for a long time. Long enough that Gin's eyes uncrossed and his breaths became more steady and the lack of movement started to clear his head. He took his hand and gently pushed Katsura's hand off his shirt. He could have sworn he saw a moment's relief on the still-angry face of his fellow patriot.

Gin rubbed his pounding head. "Sorry, Zura. I was out of it for a minute." He could already see the thick bushes only thirty feet away. Once they got there, they would be home-free to retreat to base. "Didn't mean to let that happen." His fists clenched to try and prevent the shaking that had already started to tremor through them, what had probably caused him to drop his sword. And his sword his probably what he tripped over. He sighed, almost wishing he'd just fallen on it. It would have been less embarrassing than this situation.

"Gintoki, are you feeling faint?" The ferocity was fading from Katsura's eyes. He hadn't even tried to correct his name, at least for now. Katsura was never good at being angry anyway, it didn't fit him.

"Not really," Gin mumbled, turning his head away. Katsura, when he wasn't being completely thick, was second only to Master Shoyo in reading his eyes. First now, Gin thought, with a clenching pain in his stomach. "Not anymore."

"Did you lose too much blood?"

Gin moved toward his sword again, sweeping his hand through the dirt to make sure he didn't miss and grab at nothing. "No more than usual."

"What's going on? I need to know what's going on if we're going to do this last run, Gintoki."

Chills were rushing up and down Gin's fingers, the steel of the sword clinked against the scabbard a few times before he could properly sheathe it. He wiped the sweat and blood off his forehead, willing his long-distance vision to clear. In this condition, he doubted he could dodge a bullet. "I haven't eaten in a while."

"You mean since sunrise when we set out?"

"I didn't eat then, that damn stray brat got away with almost all of my rations."

"And you haven't been eating well for how long, Gintoki?" The Rampaging Noble's eyebrows furrowed. If Gin had given the kid his rations…It took more than a day of little food to wear on a seasoned soldier, even as young as they were. How long had Gin been giving up portions of his food? How could he or Takasugi or Sakamoto not noticed?

Gin pulled Katsura from his thoughts. "It was only this time. I'm usually not foolish enough to look away from my rations. This," Gin gestured weakly to his less and less subtly shaking body, "isn't because I've been portioning off food for weeks like some stupid hero."

The silver-haired samurai leaned back against the dirt wall, which felt immensely comfortable against his suffering body and numb limbs. "It's a pain to explain but, if I don't eat sweets or food for too long, I start to feel really shitty."

Katsura's face dropped. "That sounds like a ploy to take my weekly wagashi rations."

"Idiot. Like I would hatch a plan with all this for stale pieces of wagashi." Gin huffed, crossing his arms to hide a shiver. Shit, that isn't a bad idea, if only I had access to flavored ice…

Gin cleared his thoughts. His hunger was already intensifying. "If I expend my energy and don't eat anything with sugar, I'll start feeling really dizzy and collapse."

"What?" Katsura's voice climbed in surprise, then lowered again. "Why have you never mentioned this to us, Gintoki?

"I've never had an episode in the middle of a battle. Usually, when I start to feel it, it's right after we've gotten back and I can sneak some bread and crash before my body crashes for me."

"So you just need sugar?"

"Yeah," Gin laughed sourly, "got any?"

Katsura shook his head. "No, but when we get back, I'll feed you pounds of it. It will be ninety percent of your bloodstream. I'll have your back, even if that means I have to carry it." Katsura stood, helping Gin along with him, and slung Gin's arm around his shoulders, holding him on the opposite side of the enemy army. "Three, two, one, run!"

And Katsura wasn't lying. Months later, when Gin felt hypoglycemic again on the battlefield, Sakamoto blocked an enemy sword Gin couldn't move out of the way for, Takasugi smacked him on the head and Katsura grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a tree. He snapped a small fabric pouch from his uniform and handed it to Gin. Gin's shaking hands struggled for a second before he worked it open. It was a small pouch of sugar.

Chapter Text

15 hours

Hijikata was good at damage control; as a member of the raucous (yet prestigious) Shinsengumi, in addition to having to deal with the sadist and Yorozuya as often as he did, it was nearly second nature. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times. The silver-haired swordsman lay propped up against the wall, unconscious and looking like complete shit, meanwhile his two employees where ferociously pounding at the door.

"Quiet down, brats! You're attracting the wrong kind of attention!" He yelled back at them.

"That's what we're trying to do!" Kagura ground out between fierce kicks. "We need to get out of here!"

"What? You idiots—" Hijikata didn't get a chance to tell them exactly why he thought it was such a bad idea before the door slammed open, a force of rhino amanto on the other side, guns and swords leveled at their captives. The rhino they had assumed was the leader was dwarfed by the rhino in the front of the group now. He made for an impressive enemy; towering over the other amanto so much so that in the vault, he had to duck his head and still ears still scraped the ceiling.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The leader bellowed, with an impossibly loud voice. "CAN'T YOU STAY QUIET, WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A HOSTAGE CRISIS AND THE DAMN POLICE ARE EVERYWHERE."

"You need to let us out! Gin-chan is dying!" Kagura yelled, levelling a fist at the leader, unintimidated by the amanto's stature.

"THEY'RE DEMANDING WE RELEASE ALL THE WOMEN AND UNIMPORTANT SECONDARY CHARACTERS BEFORE MEETING ANY OF OUR DEMANDS."

A smirk crossed Hijikata's face despite the situation. It seemed Kondo and Sougo's hostage negotiation skills were better than he'd given them credit for.

Kagura wasn't as impressed. "No way! Not without Gin-chan!"

"NO YOU'RE—ah, my ears popped—we're releasing you, whether you like or not." The leader's voice suddenly became much quieter and dropped two octaves.

Kagura was too stressed to remark on it and stood her ground. "We're not going anywhere, you shitty animal!"

As Kagura and the Amanto leader continued with one of the least traditional hostage negotiations ever, something occurred to Hijikata.

"You know, the only animal more shitty than a rhino is a gorilla," Hijikata said to the young Yorozuya, vaguely. He flicked open his lighter and lit his cigarette. The door was open so technically they weren't in an enclosed space. He wasn't an irresponsible adult, dammit.

That got both Shinpachi and Kagura's attention. "Huh? The only animal more shitty than a gorilla is Gin-chan after seven parfaits." Kagura told him, as if he was an idiot.

Hijikata took a drag from his cigarette, trying again, with the same calm tone. They'd get it this time. "I'm just saying that a gorilla could have a parfait and even give a parfait to shitty Yorozuya so he'll be the shittiest—" Okay, somehow he was getting a little off-topic.

"Huh? You're talking a lot about shit, do you need us to turn around for a second?"

Hijikata's vein popped and he bit down on the cigarette, recollecting his faux-calm manner and giving it one more shot. "No," he ground out slowly, eyes wide open as he tried to convey information to the dense children. "don't you think the gorilla should know about the parfaits ?"

"Ah, ah, ah. Kagura-chan, I think we should go with them?

Kagura got in his face, wrenching up her upper lip. "Huh?"

"We'll come with you, thank you." Shinpachi gave the leader a small, impatient bow and dragging Kagura along, sparing one last glance to the slumped form of Gin, whose eyes were flickering feverishly under his eyelids.

Katsura and Gin stood back to back, blood weighed down their clothes and covered their armor. The bodies of their enemies—and friends—littered the ground as they fought their way from the hill where he was executed. Barely making progress, but Gin had no perception of this as he fought to stay standing, keep moving, raising his sword, slashing it, as hard as he could, trying not to think about the skkkrrhh and the mute ring of his blade across his master's neck. Every time he stumbled, Katsura would compensate, taking a step back against him, providing some measure of support.

Gin skewered amanto in front of him, stumbling forward until his forehead pressed against the dying amanto's chest, breathing heavily. Flashes of what the execution assaulted him again and again. The ape amanto brought up a meaty hand to wring Gin's neck, a last act of revenge. Katsura slashed down on his opposing amanto with the ferocity of a devil, then spun around, jerking Gin away from the ape, the latter barely keeping a grip on his sword. He took Gin's arm over his shoulder.

"We're getting out of here!" Katsura yelled. Gin's head dropped down to his chest and everything went black.

"Z-Zura," Gintoki mumbled, feeling the sensation of moving across the ground. His head pounded, his throat was raw and dry, and he felt hot—hotter than he ever had. He heard someone make a strained grunt, then the clink of chains, causing his heart to skip a beat as he was enveloped in another memory.

Gin lay on the dirt cell floor after a beating. The air was cold enough to take some pain from his bruises and his body was too starved to shiver properly. While his hypoglycemia had always been present, his stay in this prison was exacerbating it. He wouldn't have to deal with this much longer—the execution was planned for three days from now. Gone would be the periodic lapses into episodes between substance-less daily water rations, gone would be the memories of the war and the Joui; washed away by his death just like his master. He thought about the child he saved. No regrets.

"Hnn," Gin was aware again, as if he had disappeared under dark water for a few seconds and was breaching the surface again. This time, he was not pulled back into a memory, and he felt more lucid, his adrenaline kicking in and bringing him back to nigh-clarity. His body ached, he felt like he was baking in the desert, though he wasn't sweating, and he had a pounding headache. Oh, and he was still being dragged across the ground. His hypoglycemia had never gotten this bad. Then again, his condition had become much more volatile after his stint in prison. It had even affected him while living with Kagura and Shinpachi if they skipped a meal or two. It would usually only manifest as a headache or dizziness, though.

Gin opened his eyes and looked around. He was being dragged by the collar of his shirt and yukata. Hijikata was off to the side, being pulled along handcuffed by the leader amanto, with two armed amanto trailing them. Where were they heading? How much time had passed? Where were Kagura and Shinpachi?

The sudden movement attracted Hijikata's attention, his eyes widened as he noticed Gintoki was conscious. The way Gin's health had been declining over the thirty minutes since he'd been trapped in the vault, Hijikata had been reasonably sure he wouldn't regain consciousness until they were out of this mess. His next thought was dread when Gin's eyes widened in uncoordinated panic. It was to be expected, Gin being in an altered state, waking up to see Kagura and Shinpachi gone, and not understanding that he and Gin were being moved to be used as hostages somewhere where they could keep an eye on them. Before Hijikata could do anything to placate him, Gin's hands flew up to grab the wrists of the amanto who was dragging him, and with a considerable show of power, flipped the amanto, slamming him onto the ground in front of him.

Gintoki hadn't even summoned the strength to stand up before the closest guard stabbed at him with his sword. "Gin, you idiot, watch out!" Hijikata subconsciously pulled in his direction to cover him and kicked out towards the sword. Even throwing all his weight against the chains, it only displaced the lead amanto about a foot, nowhere near reaching Gintoki.

Gin's hand jerked up and caught the blade between his fingers inches away from his face, giving the amanto a devilish smile as a few drops of blood splattered down his hand. His other fist shot up with all his remaining strength, impacting on the rhino's sturdy elbow. The elbow caved with a sharp crack and caused it to stumble back in pain onto the amanto pulling himself off the floor. The last guard gave little reaction before flipping his rifle and slamming the butt of the weapon against the winded samurai's temple, crumpling him to the floor.

"Shit!" Hijikata yelled out before he was back-handed into the wall by the titanic rhino hoof. The amantos stood up and the one who had been dragging Gin kicked the unconscious man in the stomach savagely before picking him up to drag again. Hijikata gripped the hoof that was holding him against the wall, tight enough that his nails dug into the tough, leathery skin. "Let us go now, or you're not gonna live long enough to regret it," he said slowly, his grin and wide eyes a picture of Sougo-inspired madness. The leader's ear twitched uncomfortably but he made no other indication of being concerned by Hijikata's threat.

"Let's move," he told the other amanto, pulling their prisoners along. Hijikata could only hope that those two Yorozuya brats had been able to explain the situation to Kondo by now.

Hot. Hot. Hot. Gin was surrounded by fire on all sides, standing on a building in a city of fire. Yoshiwara. He heard cries of the townspeople. He saw members of the Hyakka running dousing courtesan's flames until their own flames immolated them and they crumpled to the ground. Gintoki could do nothing, bleeding out but woundless, held to the ground by some unknown force as the flames grew hotter and rose higher, howling as if proud of its destruction. It sounded like Housen. Something occurred to Gin, slower than it should have, that this hadn't happened. That he had eventually defeated Housen. That this hard light of fire in the dark city had been vanquished when the ceiling retracted. No, this hadn't happened—

Gin snapped to wakefulness a moment later, still feeling the burns across his skin and ash in his mouth. He was lying on his side on the floor, this time not moving. His wrists were chained with a few feet of slack. He shivered for a moment before glancing around to find Hijikata. The Shinsengumi vice chief was sitting up against the wall a few feet away from him by the door. His wrists also chained, just staring back at him, throughly unamused. Instinctually, his attention drifted back around the room as he tried to make sense of his new surroundings. Just as he was getting used to the vault… They seemed to be in an office near the front of the bank, through the reinforced door window, he could just make out the top of a rhino's ear. The amanto must have brought them out as proof of life and were keeping them close as a threat. Gin curled up his fist in anger, then thumped his fist against the floor when he realized how badly his hand was shaking and that the cut between his fingers was still lazily dripping blood.

"Kagura-chan and Shinpachi-kun?" Gin's voice was rough, desperate, and not fully coherent.

"They're safe, and getting us out of here, hopefully. They were released as part of negotiations," Hijikata said, noting Gin's condition cautiously.

"Oh," Gin said, a blissful, exhausted smile touching his face, he seemed to melt further into the floor. Hijikata didn't like it one bit.

"Are you back with me for good?" Hijikata asked, carefully sardonic. "You keep falling asleep. What, do you have narcolepsy?"

"Tch, idiot." Gintoki slurred, knowing his insults wouldn't be packing a punch with him lying on the floor like he was. He rested his throbbing forehead against the cool floor, despite the pull of an old cut across his face, trying to ease the blazing heat between his eyes.

"Hey, stop falling asleep," the black haired man snapped.

"Stop boring me," Gintoki shivered. "Aah, it's pretty hot in here, isn't it?" He said a little dreamily.

Hijikata had been ready to snap back like they always had when he noticed the growing unfocused look in his rival's eyes and the paper-thin joking façade he was giving. Hijikata's disposition turned thoughtful. Gin had seemed like maybe he'd recovered somewhat but… "The room's a normal temperature. But I'm not surprised your fever's come back, Glasses said you were only going to get worse, didn't he?"

Gintoki panted quietly for a moment before speaking. "It's hotter than that sauna in here…"

Hijikata stiffened. While competing in the sauna, they'd been on the brink of passing out—well Gintoki had been, he would have been fine staying there another hour .

"We need to get you out of here." He said finally, trying to quell the growing sense of urgency for Gin's well-being.

Gin gathered his strength and slowly worked himself to his hands and knees. Hijikata moved forward as much as he could against the handcuffs, hooking an arm under his armpit and helping him sit back against the wall. Once, they were done, Gin had to lean his head back, breathing heavily and panting until the black spots and nausea faded. The rollercoaster of emotions he'd been feeling for the last several hours seemed to have passed, leaving him with bone-deep exhaustion.

"Your kids weren't able to tell me very much about what's going on. You get sick if you don't eat?" Hijikata asked doubtfully. This man across from him had likely been as parentless as the rest of them, then he was the infamous Shiroyasha, while the Joui were chronically low on supplies. And he knew from the old landlady that Gintoki had been a penniless wanderer long after that. With this crippling condition, how did he survive, much less rise to become a rebel hero of war?

Gin studied his friend's face, understanding the tacit meaning. "As a stupid kid, hypoglycemia wasn't a problem very often," he sighed out of his nose, trying to expel the dizziness and nervousness that came with his thoughts, "it only got bad after the war. I made a decision that ended with me getting caught by the government and sent to the Ikeda Clan."

Hijikata turned his body to face the ex-Joui patriot in curiosity. Gin was typically as secretive about his pre-Edo life as Sougo and himself. "That's the clan we fought with the Yaemon, right?"

Gin nodded vaguely. "Only back then, him and Asaemon were young kids and their father was the Yaemon. I was there for almost two weeks, and eventually the Yaemon pardoned and freed me. He was forced to commit seppuku for it and that's why I owe my head to Asaemon." He jerked slightly as he realized he had just gotten off topic, rattling on as the memories hit him. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the demonic vice chief's full and rapt attention.

"But my time in prison affected my body and my hypoglycemia became much worse. Hasn't improved since." He said with finality.

Despite what Gintoki and Sougo might say, Hijikata wasn't an idiot. He knew what that meant. Starvation, probably beatings, horrible conditions. Trying to survive while knowing you're destined to die. Weakening in the throes of episodes so severe it scars and causes permanent damage. It certainly put a morbid spin on the silver-head's unbecoming addiction to sweets. Hijikata shook those dark thoughts from his head. He fished his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, picking out the penultimate cigarette with an annoyed sigh. He lit it and brought it to his lips awkwardly because his hands only had a foot of chain between them.

Finally, he spoke. "Makes sense."

Gin's eyes, which had been tensely trained on the Shinsengumi, looked forward. "The kids don't get to find out. No one does. I'm not even sure why I told a mayo-freak like you." His eyes closed again, and after a second, his breathing slowed, strained but less painful sounding than before.

Hijikata didn't quite know what to say but he did know that it was important to keep Gin talking, so he continued on conversationally. "You sure know how to find trouble. Your sensei you mentioned in front of the barracks that time, how did you meet him?"

"Trouble always finds me. And my sensei did too." Gin's face got tense for a moment, as he had just eaten something unpleasant. "But I'm not giving you another shitty story without one in return. Come on, we have nothing better to do until the kids, gorilla, and sadists save our asses." Gin's red eyes roved over to look at the other man, challenging him. "So, how about you?"

Damn, Toshiro thought to himself, that stupid freak knows exactly what I'm doing, trying to keep him talking and he's still imposing on me like this. Does this man really have no shame? I'm the talk show host, you don't ask Stephen Colbert questions about his personal life! But still…he's got me cornered.

Hijikata sweat slightly, looking over at the silver haired man who looked like shit but even that couldn't keep the smug, creepy look off his face as he did a little wave. He's really got me. He just said something deep, really deep, about being imprisoned and tortured, I can't say something like 'when I was younger, eating strawberries gave me the shits' or 'I used to be afraid of hermit crabs!' Maybe if I say something like 'when I was still an otaku I bid on a ram's head caravel ship to go on an adventure to be King of the Pirates.' No, that's even worse, damn it, I'll just have to walk into his trap. THIS IS HIJIKATA SIGNING OFF…

Hijikata steeled himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd reflected about his past with anyone except for a few weighted words exchanged with Kondo once in a very long time. "I have an older brother," he finally says.

This quirks Gin's eyebrow, surprise written across his face.

"He's a foolish brother but he was the only one to give a shit up until I met Kondo. I guess I owe a lot to him," Toshiro goes to rub the back of his hair but the action is cut short by the handcuffs. " Che. He's blind, but I still write to him once a month. That guy could never read them, of course, but it doesn't matter what I write anyway, that was never the point."

Gin's face quirked again, and the glazed look on his face which had to been appearing and disappearing cleared more than it had in a while. "Your brother, he's gone, isn't he?"

Hijikata looked over at him in shock. He'd been careful to talk about him in present tense, not leave anything to imply that the letters he'd left for him over these last years had been at a grave. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling tight and dry.

"Your face gave it away. You were trying to convince yourself he's someone you haven't lost," Gin said, settling down the wall a bit. "Believe me, I've been there." He grimaced and pitched forward, clutching his chest. " Agh , my chest is beating like a cherry boy buying his first porn mag." His eyes scrunched up in pain, as did his fist, clenched in the folds of his clothes. Eventually the intensity on the heart palpitations began to fade, and he relaxed his clenched grip on his chest. "Toshiro, I don't know how much longer we can keep this up." Gin said finally.

Hijikata clenched his teeth, trying to abate the useless anger that kept trying to rise up. "I just need to get to my sword." His head suddenly jerked up, picking up something Gin couldn't. "But we may not have to," he said, slowly, registering the screams and clanging of swords and rumble of heavy bodies hitting the floor.

Gin gave a small smile as he heard bricks give way on the outside of the building from what must have been a cannon. "Those kids did it."

"About time, I'll buy you a strawberry shake once we get out of this, as long as you don't make this rescue complicated by passing out again." Hijikata said.

Then, the glass and steel door keeping them trapped inside, doubled like it had been punched in the gut, bricks that used to be a wall raining down sending dust in the air. A small purple shoe stepped onto the pile of bricks, a figure holding an umbrella over her shoulder and the nastiest smile ever seen on a twelve year old girl. Next to her was a psychotic young man with a matching grin, bazooka aimed at them, and a furious young man in glasses wielding Gin's bokuto. Behind them, fending off dozens of rhino amanto, were Kondo and Katsura, in a temporary truce.

"We're here to bust you asshats out," Kagura declared.

*** Three minutes earlier ***

Gin and Hijikata reached a quiet understanding that would have been comfortable if under better circumstances. Gin leaned his head back in exhaustion, wondering what else could go wrong when the vents started shaking.

Both sets of eyes immediately trained on the duct, that was now clanging, denting, and sagging. Hijikata was too puzzled to even move into a defensive position in front of Gin.

With one final tortured groan, the vents caved onto the ground and looked around.

"Oh? Did I make it to the file room already?" he asked, rubbing his head. Hijikata spluttered, eyes bulging and at their unexpected luck (if that was what he'd call being in a room alone with two of the infamous Joui rebels—Nobleman Katsura Kotarou and Shiroyasha.)

On seeing the other man, Gin felt apathetic, which was as much of a warning sign as anything. But their day had turned in an unexpected direction, at every point something playing out insanely, so if something expected happened, it would actually be more surprising—oh his head spun. Or maybe his condition was preventing him from reacting appropriately to seeing his oldest living friend?

"Katsura?" Hijikata managed.

The Joui rebel evidently hadn't noticed them yet though he boasted having sword-sharp survival instincts from the years of attempted government assassinations. Katsura said, automatically, "It's not Katsura, it's oh wait, you got it right." His gaze landed on the two samurai chained and sitting on the floor.

"A-ah, good. We found you. Look, Elizabeth, we found them, just like we were trying to," Katsura exclaimed, laughing jovially, hands on his hips.

"You had no idea we were here," Hijikata accused.

"Not true, tell them, Elizabeth."

Gin had been staring a little past Katsura at the vent, which a dirty blob had slowly been growing from, with a disgusted look.

"Zura, get it out of there," he pointed and Katsura finally took notice and started trying to pull the blob out.

"He's stuck! He can't come out!"

"I hear prune juice helps with that."

"Come on, Elizabeth, squeeze!" Katsura cried out. Hijikata had to face away from the fiasco. A round of coughing caught Katsura's attention from where he was wailing, attempting to pull his friend out of the event. He slowly let go of his mystery duck friend, his face dropping from open to appraising and furrowed. That cough was coming from Gintoki and it sounded wet, raspy, and exhausted. He kneeled by his friend, tucking a stray piece of his own hair in concentration.

"Gintoki? Are you alright?" Katsura took in his pale face, dark circles under his eyes, the tremor to his hands, and the glazed, exhausted look in his eyes, along with the collection of open cuts and bruises littering his body. He seemed…faded. Worse, snuffed like a candle. Like he had spent days fighting on the battlefield, and had finally lain down and accepted his fate. It was…disquieting to see in his friend. Hijikata caught his eye for a moment with a sobering look. He didn't seem surprised at his condition but rather stressed. As Katsura had expected, this must have been a while coming. Katsura unsheathed his katana, still waiting for a response from his friend, Gin and Hijikata's chains clattered to the ground.

Gin opened his eyes from a long blink to look at his friend. It's funny, considering he'd just been remembering his Joui friend. He wasn't about to say, 'I was dreaming about you,' he was lucid enough not to say that. Although for how long, he didn't know. He could hear a clock ticking down to when he'd lose consciousness, the only thing was he couldn't see the numbers—oh his head hurt fiercely and the hit he'd taken to the back of the head wasn't helping.

"He's been in bad shape. It's, he said it's related to his blood sugar? China girl said it started this twelve hours ago, Glasses said earlier than that." Hijikata felt himself getting nervous as Katsura's face hardened and his lips pressed together. Like a man who been unable to prevent a disaster—grim.

His voice changed, he sounded younger, but quiet, deliberate—perhaps practiced. "Around fifteen hours? What do you think, Gintoki?"

"Around there-ee," Gin's words trailed off as his eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and the tremors in his hands traveled up and down his body.

clang. clang. clang.

Both black-haired men surged forward as Gin's head lolled on the side and his body shuddered and his muscles went rigid. Katsura threw his hand behind Gin's head and his arm braced across Gin's chest and shoulders.

"Oi, shit, what is this?" Hijikata instinctually secured his hand on Gin's leg. Gin wasn't shaking uncontrollably, more all his muscles had tensed, exacerbating the tremors.

Katsura didn't answer him, even if he did, he wouldn't have anything to tell him, he hadn't seen anything like this before. The shaking subsided after a few moments as Katsura held onto his friend, until slowly, his muscles released. Katsura breathed a sigh of relief, it hadn't been a seizure, like he'd feared, but some kind of loss of consciousness. "His pulse?" he asked.

Hijikata moved down Gin's arm slightly, ignoring the sweat dripping down his face. "I can't get it."

Katsura swore and went to Gin's pulse point at his throat. "It's thready, but he's with us." He looked at the door, knowing how many amanto were undoubtedly behind it. Then turned back to Gin and patted his cheek a few times, then watched for a change of condition.

It took Gin twenty seconds to wake up from his stupor, and his eyes opened, looking worse off than before. Gin huffed out a few hoarse breaths before he whispered, "that was an…experience."

"Gintoki, I didn't know you still had this sickness," Katsura said, his voice deadly quiet. He held onto Gin's free wrist and stared into his glassy eyes. "I didn't know they could get this bad. You should have told me."

The silver-haired man gave a small sigh, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry. But most of this…is new."

Katsura sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small embroidered pouch. He loosened the drawstrings and poured a small pile of crushed wagashi sugar into Gin's palm.

Gin's eyes flew to Katsura's as he realized what it was. "Zura, you—"

"Eat," Katsura ordered, pushing Gin's hand upward. Gin obeyed and poured the sugar into his mouth, swallowing it with a little difficulty.

"After all this time?" he asked incredulously.

"I told you I'd hold onto it for if you needed it, so I couldn't bring myself to throw it away."

"And that's going to fix this?" Hijikata had to ask.

"Not fix him really, but when we have to move, hopefully he'll be able to move," Katsura responded.

Hijikata gestured to the armored door pointedly, "And when are we going to move? I may not have my sword but I can make a pretty good distraction."

Katsura nodded grimly, helping Gin pull himself more upright against the wall. "There's at least a dozen out there but if they haven't noticed the noise, they might be occupied with something." The long-haired man got up and peaked out the window. "Four, no, five, out there right now, but more will come if we try and fight. We can't use the vents either," Katsura said, eyeing Gin.

"So we'll have to risk it and see if they'll thin out or else we won't have a chance," Hijikata added.

Then, likely for the first time, Hijikata's masochistic nightmare of a subordinate did what Hijikata wanted.

"GIANT MONJU VANILLA SHAKE CANNON!"

Gin felt the rumble and creak of the wall before he could comprehend the loud explosion he heard. The entire brick wall of the town hall was obliterated. Katsura pulled himself over Gin as the heavy door keeping them in was knocked off its hinges and sent into the opposite side of the room. The wall to the sides of the doorway caved several feet on the sides after it had been swiss-cheesed by projectiles.

Now standing on the brick rubble were several imposing figures as the amanto struggled to shake off the explosion and more of them charged into the room. Gin and to wonder if this was a hallucination, or if the rhino amanto were a hallucination—there was really nothing logical about this situation.

To the right, Sougo, who was smoldering cheerfully from the size of the explosion. "We're here to bust you asshats out," Kagura gave the creatures a crazed Yato grin and pointed her umbrella at the leader. Then she charged and slammed her fist into his snout so hard he stumbled back and Gin heard something break.

"Parfait punch!" she shouted.

Gin frowned. They planned a rescue operation but what's with these stupid attack names? They can't be…

Kondo unsheathed his katana and ran into the fray. "Triple chocolate mousse Baked Alaska strike!"

They…they really are doing that.

Yamazaki backed Kondo up. "An-pan pound!"

Sougo by now had charged up another shot and aimed it at a group of now-nervous amanto. "Mochi-God-of-War-hot-sauce-massacre-Gear-Fourth-Jet-Gattling!"

The grin slid off Gin's face as annoyance replaced it.

"What are you—searching for the One Piece?" He shouted at the Shinsengumi captain.

"360 Calorie Shot!" Shinpachi yelled, flailing three swords in his hands, trying to fend off an amanto. "1080 Pound Man!"

"Huh? The greatest swordsman is here too?" Gin shouted back hoarsely.

"I-wish-I-had-a-popsicle-strike!" Kyuubei shouted, slicing the back of another amanto.

"That's a Freudian slip right there!"

Katsura thought of the empty pouch in his pocket as he prepared his blade with a relieved grin. "Wagashi warrior cleave!" He prepared, then slashed out his katana, cutting deep into the nearest amanto's leg. Then he reached behind him and grabbed Gin's upper arm, who stumbled as he was pulled along. Katsura nodded to Hijikata, who n stopped an incoming amanto trying to escape from Kagura's berserker attacks and Shinpachi's three flailing swords. They made their way towards the now opened wall, Gin's friends and allies blocking every pass the amanto made to try to cut them off or attack. Gintoki did his best just to keep his eyes forward and focused on limping on a burning leg. Trying not stumble too badly over the chunks of concrete as his vision went out in blotches. The clattering swords and bellows of rhinos and shouts of sweets soon started to blend with something else. Quiet whispers to clattering chains, a clang, clang, clang, like a small rock being banged against a metal bar.

Soon they had reached the Shinsengumi car and he noticed Sougo slip into the driver's seat. Hijikata appeared at Gin's side and held the door open while Katsura maneuvered Gin's slow to respond body into the seat. The Joui rebel and Shinsengumi Lieutenant then exchanged a look Gin missed. He felt as if his hearing had gone somewhere else and he had a foot in two places.

He was laying on the ground, immobile. He was sure his back had been near broken and every inch he tried to move felt like a knife slash to his back. He figured he'd better stay as still as possible for a few days. So he ignored the jeers of the other prisoners, and the ache and cold in his bones, and the bruises he'd received along with his back injury the day before, on his first day in the jail. He ignored the blood and dirt coloring his hair and the numbness in his bare feet, and the clang clang clang of an old man two cells over on death row. He didn't ignore, however, the small footsteps of the Yaemon's daughter. A little blonde girl the age of the one he'd saved, who was curious and asked him questions about what he'd done. Another time, Gin thinks he would have made her laugh. Today he feels broken and miserable. He is nineteen and will die here. "Kid, punishment isn't always about what you've done."

"Get him to the hospital. I'm going to deal with the amanto and get his kids, we'll meet you there" Katsura told Hijikata. They heard Kagura's battle cry in the air that was thick with dust. Katsura's hand was secured onto Gin's as he spoke, the red eyes looking very far away, head fallen back against the seat. He'd done well for his condition and the idea of having to force his oldest friend to lucidity again cramped his chest.

Asaemon wasn't scared of him, though. She wasn't scared of anything. She came back the next day to ask him what he meant (she didn't get an answer), and the day after that, she did not ask him anything, just read her picture book out loud, got up and left. And it continued every day, after Gin could move again, but was weakening from hunger as they hadn't fed him, and beatings. It was quieter now that the clanging had stopped with the old man's death. Others had been executed too, and he was one of the few remaining. One day they played cards, and only stopped after his hands shook too badly to continue. Another time they sat there, on two sides of the bars, completing one drawing in the dirt. Asaemon never offered him food or comfort, as if she didn't understand starvation and only took him for a sick man, or if she had accepted death was the way the world worked. It was better that way, Gin reflected. You could live a happier life if she could accept death like that. Gin couldn't bring himself to spite the girl, no matter how hard he tried, over those thirteen days he starved.

"We'll take care of it," Hijikata said, climbing into the passenger seat and striking his last cigarette as the car peeled back, then shot forward with a quick turn, engine roaring to life.

They'd made it out, finally. And they had given him so much ammunition for insults and jokes with that cheesy entrance they'd made. Even Toshiro had participated. Gin would be a bad friend if he didn't give him shit about it for the rest of his life.

Gin couldn't help a small pleased smile cross his lips as he looked at the rising run through his blurry vision. Morning again.

With that thought, the cotton-filled exhaustion in his head seeped through his limbs and his eyes fluttered closed into blackness.

Gin lay on the dirt cell floor after a beating on the thirteenth day. The air was cold enough to take some pain from his bruises and his body was much too starved to shiver properly. But he wouldn't have to deal with this much longer-the execution was today. Gone would be the constant episodes between portions of water, gone would be the memories of the war and the Joui, the smile of a young executioner's daughter; washed away by his death just like his master. He thought about the child he saved. No regrets, he promised himself.

When Gintoki woke up, it was to a roiling colors and sensations blurred under a thick blanket of drug-induced stupidity. 

At least, he’d blame the drugs for the following events, even if there were a gun to his head.

The first thing he experienced was a gun to his head. Or at least, that’s what he thought at first. As his vision cleared, he saw orange–a lot of orange–poking him on the side of the head, over and over, with a particularly stale piece of rolled kombu. For the record, though, it wouldn’t have been his first-or eighth time being woken up with a muzzle of a gun. Sakamoto had had that particular habit during the war, and no matter who enthusiastically Gin explained to him why that wasn’t appreciated, it didn’t seem to get through to him. 

(Other times, it had been Takasugi, once or twice a potential captor, who hadn’t anticipated the cold calculations Gin was capable of making under threat of death.)

No gun. They weren’t at war, that idiot Sakamoto probably wasn’t around, and the seaweed smell had to be Kagura.

“Wait, it is working! You’re right, Kagura!” That had to be Shinpachi. What was she right about? That poking their poor Gin-san in the head with smelly seaweed while he was ailing would be a fun activity? Perhaps that his skull was as squishy as it felt? Gin forced his eyes open again as they had shut again without his permission. His whole body felt disconnected in a way it hadn’t since he’d fought with Takasugi just before the shogun had died. 

“Gin?” It sounded uncertain now, and Gin had the realization that he wasn’t sure if seconds or minutes had passed since he’d first opened his eyes. 

Gin’s mouth was too dry to respond with more than a croak. His head was lifted and water brought to his lips.

When he weakly pushed back the hand, he found his voice again. “Hospital?”

“Yup, Hijikata and Okita brought you here just in time, Gin-san. You shouldn’t have fought in your condition.  I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

Gin blinked. “I thought I was in Gintama.”

A loud sigh came from the doorframe. “Well, it seems like we worried for nothing. The idiot’s fine.”

Gin’s eyes darted over to the doorway, stiffening. He hadn’t heard anything about their approach, but in the doorway, were the Shinsengumi’s two biggest jokes (in Gin’s humble opinion) Given, they were good jokes, but jokes all the same.

“You were the ones–?” Gin started, but as he did, the memories came flooding back for him. Caught in some kind of split between his prison memories and reality, Hijikata, Okita, and Katsura fighting him to safety. He surveyed his kids slowly, fighting through the fogginess to ensure there was no damage before looking back at the Shinsengumi. “You guys…”

“It would have been too much paperwork if you died in the hostage negotiation,” Hijikata said.

Did they do paperwork? Somehow Gintoki couldn’t imagine V-brow doing anything but smoking and eating mayonnaise.

Okita just gave him a close-eyed smile. ”Just don’t try that again, Boss.” And then he hurled a small packet directly at Gin’s face.

His reflexes were shot, so he got the packet delivered straight into his open eye. He moaned about it, blinking away tears as he cleared his vision to see what it was. A sugar packet. 

Gintoki looked back up at the good-for-nothing cops as Okita pulled the bag slung over his shoulder and tossed it into the room. The bag slung open and spilled a rainbow of tiny paper packets onto the bed. What had to be hundreds or thousands of sugar packets. 

“How many restaurants did you shake down to get all this?” Shinpachi yelled. 

“That enough, Boss?” Okita smiled. “To never put us through that again?”

Gintoki’s eyebrow twitched. From the look on Hijikata’s face–looking proud of himself–he’d been involved in this too. How many of his favorite restaurants and convenience stores were now deplete of sugar for the next month? These guys weren’t cops they were street thugs. 

“You idiots. You didn’t have to do that.” Any of that. Shouldn’t have been put in that situation, none of them, especially not his kids.

Hijikata just shrugged, turned around and left. Okita sent Kagura and Shinpachi a wink, and followed after him. 

Gintoki just sighed, staring out at his kids, the pile of sugar, not quite the rationed wagashi Katsura carried for him all those years after the war, but still, something touchingly sentimental for those emotionally-deprived idiots. A token.

It was a kind gift. One he didn’t deserve after the trouble he’d put them through. The way Kagura and Shinpachi stared at him made him feel even worse for scaring them, even if he was proud of how well they’d handled it. Gin sighed, and reached out for one of the packets out of the pile, ripped it open and poured a little into his mouth. His eyes blew out wide. 

“YOU BASTARDS, THIS ONE’S SALT!”