Do You Want to Ride on the Ocean of Love?
“You have to call me Captain Katsura,” said Zura.
He was standing in Gintoki’s living room wearing his pirate cosplay, captain’s coat hanging over his hips, jaunty hat in place, pirate strap over one eye. There was nothing jaunty about the expression on his face.
“Sure,” said Gintoki. What did it matter? It was all coming off anyway.
“Call me Captain Katsura, and salute me occasionally,” Zura continued. His hair was so shiny.
“Sure,” said Gintoki.
Zura narrowed his eyes. “And you are not to refer to yourself as ‘the ocean of love’ this time.”
So many rules, this guy.
He was standing in Gintoki’s living room wearing his pirate cosplay, captain’s coat hanging over his hips, jaunty hat in place, pirate strap over one eye. There was nothing jaunty about the expression on his face.
“Sure,” said Gintoki. What did it matter? It was all coming off anyway.
“Call me Captain Katsura, and salute me occasionally,” Zura continued. His hair was so shiny.
“Sure,” said Gintoki.
Zura narrowed his eyes. “And you are not to refer to yourself as ‘the ocean of love’ this time.”
So many rules, this guy.