Only kids need a night-light in their room and not just the hallways -- VIDEO
[All that's shown and heard at first is a burst of muted colors and a dull, low sound, similar to a TV turned almost all the way down - voices tangible and definitely but words impossible to make out. Looks like someone's just gone to sleep -- or their dream is changing.
The colors and sound skip suddenly, and two small feet come into focus, the picture suddenly over-saturated, drenched in the mid-day sun. A light blue cotton yukata is just barely visible against two scabbed, suntanned legs, falling halfway down the young boy's shins. The slow rumble of voices fades into nothing as a smooth, deep voice cuts through, crystal-clear.
"Did you go?"
Gintoki looks up from his worn sandals, squinting at the figure in front of him. The light-colored kimono and haori look almost white in the sunlight, the figure's long hair appearing almost bleach-blonde instead of its familiar light brown. They're walking on a dirt path, tall weeds on one side and a sprawling rice field on the other.
"No. I didn't want to."
"It's almost the end of summer, Gintoki. You won't be able to go swimming much longer."
The dream wavers, just for a moment -- this wasn't supposed to be the end of summer, but -- it was the end of summer, and there was a rice field, and the sky was an odd color. Gray-blue, and the clouds were long and thin, and it didn't look like the end of summer, but--
"It's almost the end of summer, Gintoki."
"I know. Why are we going this way?"
"Look close. Everything is distant when you take the path through the city. Staying on familiar paths will only stifle us and separate us."
"From what?"
"From the seasons. Just as the same scenery from the same path will look different in the spring than in autumn, the same scenery in the same season will look different from here than from the path through the city."
"I don't get it. This way's too long. I don't like it."
"Everything has to change, Gintoki."
"No."
"No?" The figure in front of him doesn't pause or miss a beat. "You won't change, then?"
"I won't. I don't have to."
"You don't want to meet new friends?"
"No."
"You don't want to see new places?"
"No."
"Hmm."
The tall figure stops on the path, and Gintoki stops next to him, staring up. The sun is right behind his teacher's head, casting Shouyou's face into shadows, even as he smiles at the young boy.
"Then what will you do when your scenery changes?"
A figure appears abruptly next to Shouyou -- Gintoki knows it's Shinpachi, somewhere in the back of his mind, but for some reason he cannot think of Shinpachi's name or even say anything to him as the young man leans down and hands Gintoki a small silk pouch, smiling.
He says something, but Gintoki can't hear him, and after a moment of watching Shinpachi's lips move with no sound coming out, he averts his eyes. When he looks back, Shinpachi is gone, and the small silk pouch has become a cardboard box, smooth and seamless.
"Something's in it."
"How can you tell, Gintoki?"
"I just know."
He turns the box around in his hands many times, looking for a way to open it.
"I can't get it out. I wanna see it."
"You can't, Gintoki. If you open it, you'll ruin it."
"I won't. I wont, I wanna see it. It's something that'll help me."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"Help you with what?"
Gintoki pauses at the question, frowning.
"…For when winter comes."
"Winter? But I thought your seasons weren't going to change. Is that why you can't open it?"
Gintoki shrugs, turning back to his teacher, extending the box with both hands.
"It'll help you, then, Sensei. Right?"
Shouyou kneels down to Gintoki's level, cupping the young boy's hands, looking down at the box.
"Ah. No, Gintoki. No, I don't think it will."
Gintoki, whose eyes had been focused on his teacher's face, looks down at their hands. The box is gone, but his eyes widen and his throat freezes as he sees something dancing at the edges of his teacher's kimono sleeves. He remains standing, unable to say anything as the fire spreads up, illuminating Shouyou's face.
"Your second chance wouldn't be of any help to me now."]
[The dream cuts off as Gintoki jolts awake with a grunt, shoving the covers off of himself instinctively. After a moment, he blearily opens his eyes, fumbling for the covers he just tossed away. He pulls them up over his shoulders again before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, obviously fully intent on going back to sleep]
[and meanwhile, the feed times out]