A/N: It started out as a relatively easy-going drabble, but it seems to have gotten longer than I had anticipated. This was done for the challenge prompt, "memories", and is my first out of the one-hundred prompts.
"Silver"
"Really?" Otose raised a slender brow in surprise. She narrowed her eyes, "This isn't a trick, is it?"
Gintoki scratched his head, "No, that's real silver. It's worth at least three months, right?" He pouted, "It was a gift from a dear old friend, it pains me to give it away, you know."
Otose set the silver bracelet down with a clack and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was annoyed with him, of course – she hadn't seen his rent money in two months. But she couldn't very well take gifts. It must have meant a lot to him if he had kept it for so long, and God knows how well Gintoki held onto money. She sighed, "Alright, I'll let you off this month. But I had better get next month's payment to the yen, at the end of the month."
"Thank you, granny! You're the best, you know? The most understanding, right?" Gintoki grinned and set his feet back onto the desk, knocking some trinkets off carelessly. Otose grumbled and left, muttering under her breath.
'Useless…'
He sighed and threw his head back, "Ah, that was close. Good thing she didn't send Tama..." The shiny bracelet glinted alluringly on the table where Otose had left it. Gintoki picked the piece of jewelry up and examined it again; it was a flat band of silver, thin but strong, and adorned with some flowery pattern. It closed with a clasp in the back. The thing was a little worse for wear, but that was only fit; he had it since childhood. Every time Gintoki opened and closed the drawer he kept it in, it would hit the back with a click, letting him know that it was there – let him know that at some point in his life, he was able to hold someone's affection.
His gaze dulled. He remember those sleepy spring days, those days when Shouyou-sensei's voice was only overshadowed by the persistent drone of cicadas, when the sweet smell of cherry blossoms drifted slowly into the classroom, and when the warm sun caressed his skin through the open paper screen doors. He turned the bracelet in his hand, mulling the memory over. Gintoki remembered other things too, the way the bracelet twinkled under the rain and gray sky, the way blood and dirt seeped into the engravings and dried a dark brown. He remember the way it gleamed despite the rotting corpses of his friends and enemies beneath it – the way it led his sword, told him it would be alright, the way it was his beacon of guidance in a bleak and unforgivable place. But most of all…
Gintoki blinked, stretching awkwardly, his legs sore from being propped up on the table for so long, "Oi, Kagura!"
The red-headed girl looked up from the television questioning.
"Take this to the pawn shop," Gintoki tossed her the piece of jewelry, which she caught deftly, "Granny will have my head on a pike if rent doesn't come in soon."
Kagura grinned, "I'll be able to buy sukonbu now, right Gin?"
"Don't even think about it," he snorted and waved her off, "Hurry up. I'll treat Shinpachi and you to barbecue." She cheered at the mention of food and ran off.
"Shouyou-sensei, I'm afraid I couldn't keep your gift," Gintoki murmured, "If I do, I'll definitely end up like those two idiots, always dreaming about the past."