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It was a normal enough evening in Kabukichou. The streets were bustling with people and the air was alive with the usual chatter and shouts of “come in, come in!” from the shopkeepers as the sun was beginning to paint the land orange as it slowly set. What was unusual was the quietness of the Yorozuya Gin-chan household located above Snack Otose.
The apartment itself being quiet was not so unusual, perhaps. The freelancers did actually have jobs occasionally (though certainly not thanks to their eponymous leader, Sakata Gintoki) that took them out into Kabukichou. What was unusual was the fact that Shimura Shinpachi and Kagura were both present in the apartment despite the absence of Gintoki. Both were silent as the young Yato lounged on a sofa with sukonbu in her mouth and Shinpachi swept the same spot on the floor continuously.
Shinpachi sighed and the broom paused in its movement as the young samurai glanced at the wall calendar again for the nth time since him and Kagura had noticed Gintoki missing that morning. It had taken them a bit to notice – the day held no particular significance to them beyond its meaning to the silver-haired man, after all – but once they had the two of them fell into a weary silence. It’s not that they had no idea where the man could be. They understood Gintoki well enough to know he was probably out doing something self-destructive, even if they didn’t know what about that day always set him off. All they could do was wait and hope that one day Gintoki would be able to share his burden with them.
Just as that thought hit him, he noticed Sadaharu perk up to the side of the room and a moment later he heard the front door sliding open. Was Gintoki actually home? Usually he wouldn’t come home until well after he and Kagura had fallen asleep, if at all! A glance to Kagura showed Shinpachi that the girl had heard the door too and was sitting up. Neither of them called out, both too afraid that if they did Gintoki would just disappear again. They were sorely disappointed when it was not Gintoki but Hijikata who appeared from the entranceway. The man froze at the sight of Gintoki’s kids and frowned a little deeper as three out of four Yorozuya let out their breaths as heavy sighs.
“U-um. Is the permy bastard here? I’ve got business with him,” Hijikata said, looking from Gintoki’s girl to the glasses boy, a faint flush beginning to spread in his cheeks despite his best efforts not to feel flustered. Being on his own with Gintoki’s kids never failed to fluster him and despite his relationship with their leader being known to them he still unconsciously used masked language around them. The only business Hijikata had with the man that day was that he hadn’t seen him in a while and even just a glance at him the day prior had made Hijikata a little – just a tiny, infinitesimal amount – worried about his lover.
The glance the kids shared and their generally somber expressions didn’t make Hijikata any less nervous. It was Shinpachi who eventually answered him and the Shinsengumi Vice-Chief could tell the boy was hesitant to do so. “Gin-san has been gone since this morning, Hijikata-san. We’re not sure exactly why but he always disappears on this date and doesn’t return until very late or the next day…” Shinpachi trailed off and his gaze drifted down to the toes of Hijikata’s boots because he couldn’t maintain eye contact.
Without another word Hijikata turned and headed back to the door, a heaviness to his marching step. It was clear to the kids that his intention was to search out Gintoki and as uncomfortable as they still were with the two of them dating – it was a weird concept! The two were always at each other’s throats in public – they were hopeful that Gintoki would at least listen to Hijikata. The Shinsengumi officer wasn’t paying much attention to the kids as he slid the door shut none too gently but he may have heard a shouted, “Don’t do anything weird to Gin-chan aru!”
The sun was almost completely gone from the skies of Edo when Hijikata finally found Gintoki in a seedy looking bar with a woman pressed up against his side and a dark red flush painting his cheeks. The man felt a vein begin to pulse in his temple as she began suckling on his lover’s ear. It calmed down a bit as he realized that Gintoki wasn’t even reacting, didn’t even really seem to be present mentally. Hijikata stomped over and pried the lady off the silver samurai before grabbing the man by his upper arm and hauling him out the door.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing, you stupid selfish permy-haired bastard?” Hijikata snarled half-heartedly as he all but dragged the drunk man down the street. “Ya got some nerve to make me look for your drunk ass.” The quiet hum from Gintoki still wasn’t very reassuring. A glance at him showed Hijikata that the red dead fish eyes seemed even more dead than usual and he huffed. Hijikata didn’t always understand his lover or what he needed but in this case he had a fairly good hunch, if only because he knew what he would want if their roles were reversed.
The trip to the Shinsengumi headquarters – and subsequently his room – took longer than usual from that particular bar. Gintoki was a heavy man. Hijikata had heard the jokes before about Gintoki being heavy because of all the sweets he ate but he knew from personal experience (in more ways than one) that Gintoki’s body was heavy with muscle and he was more than capable of putting it to use. Hijikata had also taken a circuitous route to the headquarters to avoid most of Kabukichou’s lively night life. A few Shinsengumi officers might have glanced their way once they got to the compound but the glare Hijikata sent their way had them scampering off to do more important things. They would be sure to spread the word that he was not to be disturbed that night.
Sliding the door to his room shut behind them, Hijikata turned to look over Gintoki. There was no doubt that his lover had sobered up at least a little on the walk over though he didn’t seem to recognize his surroundings any more than at the bar. He looked…haunted (an involuntary shiver at the mere thought of the word did not just run down Hijikata’s spine!). He supposed a Joui war veteran, particularly the Shiroyasha, would have many reasons to look haunted. Hijikata may never have fought in a war but he knew loss and violence in his own ways. He moved to pull out his futon and spread it on the floor, keeping a keen eye on Gintoki the whole time, knowing the man had a penchant for disappearing when he was in pain.
The other samurai made no effort to move, however. He barely even seemed to be breathing. Hijikata had seen Gintoki beaten and down-trodden but he had still never seen him in as much despair as he seemed right then. He considered asking but he knew it would be futile anyway. Gintoki probably couldn’t hear him through whatever was going on in his head and they weren’t much for comforting words to begin with. Hijikata stripped off his uniform jacket and scarf and jammed his sword into the door to prevent anyone – namely Sougo – from coming in before gently pulling Gintoki over to the futon.
His lover was so pliant that Hijikata had no trouble manoeuvering the both of them into a laying position, Gintoki resting in the crook of his left arm with his permy head resting over Hijikata’s heart. He knew he had done some good as a tiny bit of the tension leaked out of Gintoki’s frame. His heartbeat always seemed to have that effect on the other man and it wasn’t hard for Hijikata to guess why the sound of a life still living soothed Gintoki. He pulled the blanket over them both to cocoon them in warmth – it was more than a little alarming that Hijikata was so used to Gintoki’s heat that he could tell the man wasn’t at his best simply because he wasn’t as warm as he would normally be like that – and rested his left hand on the curve of Gintoki’s side while his right settled in the silly silver locks of hair.
There were no words to exchange just then, simply Hijikata’s right hand gently ruffling his lover’s hair, warmth, and a simple heartbeat to remind Gintoki that despite whatever was going on in that head of his he wasn’t alone. Time passed like that and neither man felt the need to move very much. Hijikata eventually felt when Gintoki drifted off to sleep and he secretly pressed his mouth to the crown of Gintoki’s head. It wasn’t really a kiss, just another form of touching that helped to reassure Hijikata that Gintoki was there. There despite everything in the man’s past that he still didn’t know, may never know. Hijikata fell asleep clinging to that thought and to the man in his arms.
Hijikata was woken up by a mass of squirming Gintoki and a hand under his chin pushing at his head. “Lemme go, le’go! Gotta piss,” was the silver samurai’s urgent declaration. The moment Hijikata released him the man was up and running for the toilets. Hijikata huffed as the sword in the doorway was chucked across the room and the sliding door was slammed open so roughly the entire frame was still shaking as Gintoki’s white yukata fluttered out of view. Had he really been holding on that tightly in his sleep? He laid back on his futon with his arms crossed behind his head, wondering if Gintoki would take the opportunity to see himself out or if he’d return. After a vulnerable night like that he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t see Gintoki for at least a week.
He had drifted back to sleep while waiting but he was woken again by Gintoki’s hand in his hair. This time his lover was sitting next to him reading a copy of Jump (where had he even gotten it from? Sougo probably) in one hand and the other gently tugging at a black lock of his hair. “Oi,” Hijikata intoned, voice still rough from sleep, as he cracked a blue eye open to peer at Gintoki.
“Hush, I’m getting to the best part, y’know,” was the reply he received. At least he knew Gintoki was feeling better.
“Ya owe me a pack of cigarettes for dragging your drunk ass here. Yer heavy.” As if Hijikata would actually listen when Gintoki told him to be quiet.
Hijikata couldn’t hide the gulp when a pair of red eyes slid over to look at him. “No one asked you to,” Gintoki retorted.
There was another layer to the conversation, Hijikata knew. There always was with Gintoki and one day maybe he’d learn the language well enough to traverse it. For now though he shrugged and bumped the silver-haired samurai with his knee. Gintoki was impatient in many ways but he seemed infinitely patient with Hijikata’s inability to express things in words. Just as Hijikata was patient with Gintoki’s past.
Perhaps one day the two could communicate with more than just their bodies – kicking, punching, touching, kissing, making love – and maybe one day Gintoki would tell him that the previous day was the anniversary of Shouyou’s death by his own blood-stained hands, but it was not that morning. Instead, Gintoki told Hijikata ‘thanks’ and ‘I’m fine’ in the way that his foot lashed out with a little too much force in retaliation for the bump and Hijikata responded with ‘I’m glad, I’m here for you’ when he growled and tackled Gintoki in return.