[Gintama] Request: To save Shinsengumi, Payment: Dango
Title: Request: To save Shinsengumi, Payment: Dango
Author: Kanon
Genre: General
Rating: G
Characters: Sakata Gintoki, Hijikata Toushiro/Tosshi, Okita Sougo
Disclaimer: Gintama’s awesomeness is out of this universe. Unfortunately, I live somewhere in this universe. Subheadings taken from 31_days.
Summary: Tosshi is a pain in the ass of epic proportion. But then, so is Hijitaka Toushiro.
Spoilers: Itou/Shinsengumi Rebellion Arc
Warning: None
Author’s Note:
First Gintama fic! I’m relatively new to the fandom too. Though most of my fics are BL, I think this can pass as Gen? :D Please review so I know if characters are IC, etc.
:::::Request: To save Shinsengumi, Payment: Dango by Kanon:::::
And crazy is the forecast all week
It’s a pain in the ass of epic proportion. It’s scary enough to see a grown-up man going starry-eyed at some blonde magic fighter in mini-skirts, squealing like a girl, but the fact that the man he had never known to be anything else but a chain-smoker, a mayora, and a workaholic in need of anger management therapy is the very source of the sound makes him stutter worse than the stupid mosquito amanto.
What the hell is that katana anyway? If what the blue-haired girl of a swordsmith said is right, then he’s going to classify it more dangerous than the monstrous Benizakura. God, imagine, Nizo in that stupid get-up, calling him-
“Sakata-shi.”
Yes, yes, exactly that-
“Wh,what?!”
The strange name at the perfect timing throws Gintoki to sideways and Hi- Tosshi nervously takes his sunglasses off. Gintoki wishes he kept it on though because the kicked-puppy look with those narrow black eyes seriously does not bode well with him. Hell, he’d rather have to comfort Agomi again with his (her?) love problems than deal with this useless otaku.
“I’m sorry for the trouble I’m causing you. If you want, I’ll leave.”
The subdued apology has Gintoki staring down at the fidgeting man and the cursed katana in question on his back in a gaze caught between pity and confusion; or just constipated. As Tosshi blinks at him, patiently waiting for his answer, frustration builds up insides him and in the end, Gintoki resigns to scratching the back of his head roughly.
“I don’t mind but it’s not just me you’re troubling, is it?”
“If it’s Shimura-shi and Kagura-shi…”
“No, I don’t mean any of us at the Yorozuya. We were never something of your business anyway and we never want to be something of your business. What I mean is-”
Just as he’s about to say the all important word, Gintoki trails off. This guy is so docile and meek; can it be really true that the Hijikata he knew of has caved in to something so pathetic like this? Those dilated pupils that had looked down at him at the Ikedaya were of a man who did not know the meaning of defeat or mercy for anyone who stood in his way.
“Oi, Oogushi-kun.”
The black eyes fall into innocent confusion and Tosshi tilts his head.
“Sakata-shi, that’s not my name. Who are you talking to?”
Just about the same choice of words yet totally different tone; Gintoki smacks his unexpected guest so hard that the man nearly topples over.
“Ouch!”
“I know that, you annoying otaku.”
And leaving the teary man behind, Gintoki leaves the Yorozuya, blocking out the disturbing view with the door.
That idiot. He had always known how thick-headed the mayora was, especially since the incident with the sadist’s sister, but to ignore the warning and go ahead with the cursed katana like that, it’s just so like him that Gintoki doesn’t even know where to begin. Anyway, how come all the lost kids fall in his hands nowadays?
“Damn, this shit is worse a headache than the mini clone before.”
‘Please… protect my… our Shinsengumi.’
A scowl pulls the lazy samurai’s face tight. It’s nothing new but this time, he really has got himself involved with some troublesome stuff.
Great charity, bad tactics
The day after the whole fiasco is over, Gintoki honestly cannot say that he’s surprised to see Hijikata -thank lord- back on his couch, a slowly burning cigarette perched between his lips; after all, Tae isn’t the only one who pays back the favour for sure and for all the poker face, the vice-commander is surprisingly easy to read.
He leaves all the talking - interrogation, concern, confirmation - to Shinpachi and Kagura, even if he could have laughed right at the disdain face with all the ridiculous things that Tosshi had done. Well, perhaps later, he will, but for now, the freaky squeals are gone, the pain-in-the-ass mayora is back, the gorilla stalker is alive, things are back to as normal as their Edo can get, and he’s quite content to sit there and stare at the black yukata that has replaced the weird otaku get-up. Hijikata, who has been busy keeping Sadaharu at by with the same katana that had caused all the trouble, notices the little curl at Gintoki’s lips and wears a slightly constipated look. The man must also be aware of what perfect blackmailing material he had practically shoved into the silver-haired samurai’s hands but he can’t exactly cut him down either. Hijikata glares anyway with an empty threat; not that such a thing would have ever stopped the infamous Yorozuya from taking a poke at the temperamental vice-commander, but that wasn’t what was on his mind anyway so Gintoki simply closes his eyes and let his head drop back, sinking into the worn-out cushion.
“That yukata isn’t bad but you do look best in that ugly uniform of yours.”
The simple statement brings all the chaos to the end abruptly. Then the brats, well, one brat and one glasses, wear the same kind of smile that Hijikata had seen when the Yorozuya’s memory had returned, except that this time, it’s aimed at him as if he’s a dear, nostalgic piece of their lives that has come back at last, and Hijikata can feel blood rushing to his face at an unhealthy rate.
“Shut up. Just get the hell out, I’ll treat you to your disgusting sugar.”
Gintoki lifts his head up and grins.
“Mission accomplished.”
What a liar, Hijikata thinks, but of course, does not voice it. “This is the first and last time. The debt’s cleared with this,” he grumbles instead, only to realise that the Yorozuya gang is already at the door, trying to figure out which one is the most expensive dango shop in Kabuki-cho.
“Oi, are you listening to me?!” Hijikata screams, sliding his katana back to his side, and Gintoki waves his hands without even glancing over his shoulder; the guy really knows how to look most insincere.
“Yes, yes. This is the first and last time so let’s go, Oogushi-kun.”
“Who the hell are you calling Oogushi-kun?!”
“Then, Tosshi.”
“AAAAHHH!!”
In a back alley (with allies)
Some days later, when the sun starts to fall behind the horizon, Okita drops by with a bottle of rather nice sake. It’s a night of perfect weather for a drink; crisp air, occasional cool breeze, and a bright full moon. Since Gintoki’s room is the only place they can drink and enjoy the uninterrupted view of the beautiful moon, there they settle, Gintoki leaning on the wooden balcony and Okita opposite of him. Their conversation is nothing of importance and everything of triviality, like how Okita has found a good napping spot nearby and how lethal Kagura’s Pocari Sweat is. The sake goes down the throat smoothly like silk, the flavour clean with the addictive tang of alcohol, and Gintoki swirls the cup with a small content smile flitting across his face. After a moment of silence, Okita turns towards him instead of the moon, the young face blank as usual.
“Danna.”
“Huh?”
“You really are a capricious man, danna,” Okita says in the usual emotionless voice, emptying his cup, “you weren’t really the help I had expected to turn up at that moment but at the same time, I wasn’t exactly surprised either.”
“I’m Yorozuya after all.”
“You were paid?”
“Dango,” Gintoki answers nonchalantly as if that’s just about the right payment for saving the Shinsengumi’s vice-commander, the commander, the Shinsengumi itself, and getting his limbs nearly cut off in the process. Okita hums thoughtfully but speaks no more of it. Gintoki’s languid face is turned towards the silver moon, the cold light making the pale hair look almost white.
Just then, a shadow emerging from the dark alley catches Gintoki’s eyes and he soon recognises the silhouette of the Shinsengumi uniform and the trail of smoke slithering up the night like a hazy snake. Apparently, Hijikata also saw the light spilling out from the first floor because the sharp black eyes flick up. Gintoki raises his glass slightly when their eyes meet and Hijikata spins around, stomping off to continue what must be the night patrol.
“Danna, someone you know out there?” Okita asks since he cannot see the street from his place. A lopsided grin tugging at his lips, Gintoki tips the glass into his mouth and shakes his head.
“Just a stubborn idiot loitering around.”
Okita looks at him in his customary emotionless face for a moment then refills the glass for him.
“They say there’s no cure for stupidity.”
Somehow, Gintoki knows that Okita is talking about the same person as him but doesn’t delve into it, chuckling in amusement.
“Heh, not wrong there.”
Author: Kanon
Genre: General
Rating: G
Characters: Sakata Gintoki, Hijikata Toushiro/Tosshi, Okita Sougo
Disclaimer: Gintama’s awesomeness is out of this universe. Unfortunately, I live somewhere in this universe. Subheadings taken from 31_days.
Summary: Tosshi is a pain in the ass of epic proportion. But then, so is Hijitaka Toushiro.
Spoilers: Itou/Shinsengumi Rebellion Arc
Warning: None
Author’s Note:
First Gintama fic! I’m relatively new to the fandom too. Though most of my fics are BL, I think this can pass as Gen? :D Please review so I know if characters are IC, etc.
:::::Request: To save Shinsengumi, Payment: Dango by Kanon:::::
And crazy is the forecast all week
It’s a pain in the ass of epic proportion. It’s scary enough to see a grown-up man going starry-eyed at some blonde magic fighter in mini-skirts, squealing like a girl, but the fact that the man he had never known to be anything else but a chain-smoker, a mayora, and a workaholic in need of anger management therapy is the very source of the sound makes him stutter worse than the stupid mosquito amanto.
What the hell is that katana anyway? If what the blue-haired girl of a swordsmith said is right, then he’s going to classify it more dangerous than the monstrous Benizakura. God, imagine, Nizo in that stupid get-up, calling him-
“Sakata-shi.”
Yes, yes, exactly that-
“Wh,what?!”
The strange name at the perfect timing throws Gintoki to sideways and Hi- Tosshi nervously takes his sunglasses off. Gintoki wishes he kept it on though because the kicked-puppy look with those narrow black eyes seriously does not bode well with him. Hell, he’d rather have to comfort Agomi again with his (her?) love problems than deal with this useless otaku.
“I’m sorry for the trouble I’m causing you. If you want, I’ll leave.”
The subdued apology has Gintoki staring down at the fidgeting man and the cursed katana in question on his back in a gaze caught between pity and confusion; or just constipated. As Tosshi blinks at him, patiently waiting for his answer, frustration builds up insides him and in the end, Gintoki resigns to scratching the back of his head roughly.
“I don’t mind but it’s not just me you’re troubling, is it?”
“If it’s Shimura-shi and Kagura-shi…”
“No, I don’t mean any of us at the Yorozuya. We were never something of your business anyway and we never want to be something of your business. What I mean is-”
Just as he’s about to say the all important word, Gintoki trails off. This guy is so docile and meek; can it be really true that the Hijikata he knew of has caved in to something so pathetic like this? Those dilated pupils that had looked down at him at the Ikedaya were of a man who did not know the meaning of defeat or mercy for anyone who stood in his way.
“Oi, Oogushi-kun.”
The black eyes fall into innocent confusion and Tosshi tilts his head.
“Sakata-shi, that’s not my name. Who are you talking to?”
Just about the same choice of words yet totally different tone; Gintoki smacks his unexpected guest so hard that the man nearly topples over.
“Ouch!”
“I know that, you annoying otaku.”
And leaving the teary man behind, Gintoki leaves the Yorozuya, blocking out the disturbing view with the door.
That idiot. He had always known how thick-headed the mayora was, especially since the incident with the sadist’s sister, but to ignore the warning and go ahead with the cursed katana like that, it’s just so like him that Gintoki doesn’t even know where to begin. Anyway, how come all the lost kids fall in his hands nowadays?
“Damn, this shit is worse a headache than the mini clone before.”
‘Please… protect my… our Shinsengumi.’
A scowl pulls the lazy samurai’s face tight. It’s nothing new but this time, he really has got himself involved with some troublesome stuff.
Great charity, bad tactics
The day after the whole fiasco is over, Gintoki honestly cannot say that he’s surprised to see Hijikata -thank lord- back on his couch, a slowly burning cigarette perched between his lips; after all, Tae isn’t the only one who pays back the favour for sure and for all the poker face, the vice-commander is surprisingly easy to read.
He leaves all the talking - interrogation, concern, confirmation - to Shinpachi and Kagura, even if he could have laughed right at the disdain face with all the ridiculous things that Tosshi had done. Well, perhaps later, he will, but for now, the freaky squeals are gone, the pain-in-the-ass mayora is back, the gorilla stalker is alive, things are back to as normal as their Edo can get, and he’s quite content to sit there and stare at the black yukata that has replaced the weird otaku get-up. Hijikata, who has been busy keeping Sadaharu at by with the same katana that had caused all the trouble, notices the little curl at Gintoki’s lips and wears a slightly constipated look. The man must also be aware of what perfect blackmailing material he had practically shoved into the silver-haired samurai’s hands but he can’t exactly cut him down either. Hijikata glares anyway with an empty threat; not that such a thing would have ever stopped the infamous Yorozuya from taking a poke at the temperamental vice-commander, but that wasn’t what was on his mind anyway so Gintoki simply closes his eyes and let his head drop back, sinking into the worn-out cushion.
“That yukata isn’t bad but you do look best in that ugly uniform of yours.”
The simple statement brings all the chaos to the end abruptly. Then the brats, well, one brat and one glasses, wear the same kind of smile that Hijikata had seen when the Yorozuya’s memory had returned, except that this time, it’s aimed at him as if he’s a dear, nostalgic piece of their lives that has come back at last, and Hijikata can feel blood rushing to his face at an unhealthy rate.
“Shut up. Just get the hell out, I’ll treat you to your disgusting sugar.”
Gintoki lifts his head up and grins.
“Mission accomplished.”
What a liar, Hijikata thinks, but of course, does not voice it. “This is the first and last time. The debt’s cleared with this,” he grumbles instead, only to realise that the Yorozuya gang is already at the door, trying to figure out which one is the most expensive dango shop in Kabuki-cho.
“Oi, are you listening to me?!” Hijikata screams, sliding his katana back to his side, and Gintoki waves his hands without even glancing over his shoulder; the guy really knows how to look most insincere.
“Yes, yes. This is the first and last time so let’s go, Oogushi-kun.”
“Who the hell are you calling Oogushi-kun?!”
“Then, Tosshi.”
“AAAAHHH!!”
In a back alley (with allies)
Some days later, when the sun starts to fall behind the horizon, Okita drops by with a bottle of rather nice sake. It’s a night of perfect weather for a drink; crisp air, occasional cool breeze, and a bright full moon. Since Gintoki’s room is the only place they can drink and enjoy the uninterrupted view of the beautiful moon, there they settle, Gintoki leaning on the wooden balcony and Okita opposite of him. Their conversation is nothing of importance and everything of triviality, like how Okita has found a good napping spot nearby and how lethal Kagura’s Pocari Sweat is. The sake goes down the throat smoothly like silk, the flavour clean with the addictive tang of alcohol, and Gintoki swirls the cup with a small content smile flitting across his face. After a moment of silence, Okita turns towards him instead of the moon, the young face blank as usual.
“Danna.”
“Huh?”
“You really are a capricious man, danna,” Okita says in the usual emotionless voice, emptying his cup, “you weren’t really the help I had expected to turn up at that moment but at the same time, I wasn’t exactly surprised either.”
“I’m Yorozuya after all.”
“You were paid?”
“Dango,” Gintoki answers nonchalantly as if that’s just about the right payment for saving the Shinsengumi’s vice-commander, the commander, the Shinsengumi itself, and getting his limbs nearly cut off in the process. Okita hums thoughtfully but speaks no more of it. Gintoki’s languid face is turned towards the silver moon, the cold light making the pale hair look almost white.
Just then, a shadow emerging from the dark alley catches Gintoki’s eyes and he soon recognises the silhouette of the Shinsengumi uniform and the trail of smoke slithering up the night like a hazy snake. Apparently, Hijikata also saw the light spilling out from the first floor because the sharp black eyes flick up. Gintoki raises his glass slightly when their eyes meet and Hijikata spins around, stomping off to continue what must be the night patrol.
“Danna, someone you know out there?” Okita asks since he cannot see the street from his place. A lopsided grin tugging at his lips, Gintoki tips the glass into his mouth and shakes his head.
“Just a stubborn idiot loitering around.”
Okita looks at him in his customary emotionless face for a moment then refills the glass for him.
“They say there’s no cure for stupidity.”
Somehow, Gintoki knows that Okita is talking about the same person as him but doesn’t delve into it, chuckling in amusement.
“Heh, not wrong there.”