The idea of using Sacchan goes to the lovely chantal027. If you're reading this Chantal, I hope you don't mind that I changed some things around regarding her reaction.
Sarutobi Ayame is a woman who will not take no for an answer.
Actually, she would. Over and over again. Rejection only encourages her: the crueler it is the more it entices.
Which is exactly why she needs Sakata Gintoki in her life. No other man has treated her with such stone cold brutality. Sure he never lays a hand on her, but the venom in his words whenever he turn her advances down is as deliciously painful as any blow to her body. Even when he ignores her, there's something about his indifference that sends tingles down her spine deep into places where the sun doesn't shine.
It's safe to say that every moment of interaction with Gintoki brings her unparalleled pleasure.
Thus it is in her search for more of this pleasure that Sacchan finds herself peering down into the Yorozuya's sparsely-furnished living room from the ceiling. The house is void of life, save for the music blaring on the television and the giant mutt sleeping soundlessly by the kitchen door.
If memory serves correctly — and it always does when it involves the shiroyasha — Gintoki should be returning from his daily dose of Pachinko in an hour.
That doesn't matter. This will give her enough time to bond with her future daughter-in-law.
"Sadaharu! How do I look?"
In the distance a door slides open, groaning in protest at the friction against the wooden flooring. A mop of red floats into her range of sight, fluttering about as the amanto commences to stumble about in the living room, vaguely twisting and turning in beat with the song emitted from the small screen.
Wait a minute. Is she dancing?
Sacchan watches, bewildered, as Kagura knocks furniture over in the wake of her frolicking. How can this graceful fighter dance with the elegance of a headless chicken? She spins uncontrollably — attempting what appears to be a pirouette — and spews a string of curses when her knee collides with the edge of a table at full-force.
Just when Sarutobi deems it impossible for Kagura to be any less feminine, she catches a glimpse of the Yato's face. Good god. Brows scribbled in with black; haphazard circles pencilled around cerulean orbs; lipstick bleeding out over her mouth and chin; her face several shades whiter than the rest of her body — Kagura truly is a disgusting sight to behold.
Salvation comes in the form of three raps to the door. A breath of relief escapes the assassin. Thank heavens! Now that Gintoki's here she can go back to ogling the samurai and pretend this freak show never happened. She fidgets anxiously in her hiding spot, heart racing wildly as Kagura passes out of vision to the front door.
Here comes the star of her dirty fantasies!
"Took you long enough China."
Or not.
"Sadist, what a surprise!" The redhead exclaims, the eagerness in her tone clearly suggesting otherwise.
Kagura brings a flaxen-haired man to the living room, moving the furniture she previously trampled on back into their original positions as she makes her way to the couches. That's odd. Sarutobi wasn't aware that the Yorozuya workers could take on clients individually. Pointedly looking away from the amanto, she rests her gaze on the client.
Where has she seen this man before?
"I told you I was coming this afternoon," he observes the lady across him, scrutinising the disaster on her face. "And if I didn't know any better, I'd think you prepared for my visit."
"Ahahahahaha!" Kagura laughs in as posh a voice as she can muster. "Prepare for you? Don't think so highly of yourself." She sniffs, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye as she flirtatiously flutters her eyelashes at her guest.
When the redhead's lashes clump together rather comically, Sacchan snorts to herself. This is what happens when girls try to act like women and — despite her developed figure — Kagura is lightyears away from being a lady. After all, it takes more than a set of breasts and buttocks to be a woman.
Seconds tick by and her eyelids are still sewn shut by mascara.
"GAH! I can't see!"
The mystery man chuckles, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. "You look almost as ugly as Kondo-san."
The name rings a bell.
Isn't Kondo the name of that flat-chested woman's pet gorilla? The stalker-cop who foolishly thought his obsession with that female brute could compare to her devotion for Gintoki? She watches distractedly as the man guides Kagura into the kitchen. He must be part of the Shinsengumi; nobody would address the gorilla respectfully unless they work for him.
Her reverie is broken by the sound of someone gasping for breath.
"Stop drowning me in the sink you Sadist! I can wash my face by myself!"
Sadist…
Just a god damn minute. Is this the police boy who wanted to do S&M role-play with her years ago?
As if on cue they reenter the room, a sour-faced Kagura and blondie looking positively pleased with himself. While the former drags her feet back to the couch her client follows, not bothering to hide the spring in his step.
It's definitely him. Sure the brat's grown out his hair and got himself some muscles, but that sleazy look in his eyes is unmistakable.
What's an officer doing here of all places?
"Quit your bitching," Sougo chides, albeit lightly. "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't being such a retard in the first place."
An angry tick appears on her forehead, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
"I guess you're right."
This time Kagura sits beside him, mewling as she stretches out her limbs. A pale arm settles on the back of the couch, fingers lying dangerously close to the back of his head. She shoots him tightlipped smile, eyes squinted as she surveys her guest. Her body hunches inwards at an awkward angle as though ridden with an extreme case of a indigestion.
Sougo tenses, something very similar to concern brewing in the pit of his belly. Kagura's behaviour has been nothing short of strange: the makeup, the lack of derogatory remarks directed his way, and now she's even agreeing with him! There's only one explanation for this: she must be under the weather.
Also noticing the redhead's unusual behaviour Sarutobi tenses, coming to a different conclusion. Years of experience in this particular field has taught her many things. Unlike the male, she knows exactly what is up with the amanto. She also knows that this can only end badly.
Very badly.
"Is something wrong with you?" Okita asks, unknowingly encouraging his doom like a lamb to the slaughter.
Kagura shifts closer to the officer until their sides press up against each other. "Are you worried about me?"
Sarutobi doesn't know which is stronger: the urge to break out into laughter or repeatedly bash her head into a wall. Yatos are only known for their prowess on the battlefield; now she knows why. As beautiful and talented a fighter as Gintoki's foster-daughter is, she doesn't possess a single seductive bone in her body. Normally this acts in the ninja's favour — Sacchan doesn't need to worry about her stealing away Gintoki — yet now she can't help cringing at the firsthand display of Kagura's charm, or lack of.
If this is how Kagura treats their clients it's no wonder why the Yorozuya's always broke.
Looking at the amanto's victim with pity, Sarutobi regrets turning down his S&M offer years ago. Yes he's too young for her and no she isn't interested in him, but at least she could have rocked his world once before this alien scars him for life.
She mentally applauds him for still standing strong. Most men would have hightailed it out of there by now. Then again Kagura might kill the policeman if he leaves, God knows she's violent enough to resort to such measures.
"…Gin-chan won't be home until four and Shinpachi's taken the day off to spend time with Anego." Kagura springs onto his lap with the vivacity of a tigress pouncing on her prey.
"Oh?" Initially meant to be a question, it comes out as a groan of pain when the bones from his rival's rear stab into his thighs. Placing his hands on her hips to steady her bouncing form, Sougo briefly wonders if he could kill Hijikata via death-by-butt-bones.
"Dammit China where does all the food you eat go? It sure doesn't go to your ass."
A small growl leaves her lips. Instead of going apeshit on him, however, Kagura swallows her rage and plasters on what she hopes is a sexy pout. Running her hands through his flaxen locks, an embarrassed flush graces her cheeks when her fingers get tangled in his hair.
He watches with a deadpan expression on his face as she pries her fingers out of his knots, unconsciously tightening his grip on her hips whenever she yanks out blonde strands in her quest to free her hands.
Their involuntary spectator screams internally. A wave of regret washes over Sacchan; she should have followed Gintoki into the pachinko parlour! If only she did, then she would've never had to witness this… this parody of a foreplay. Kagura failed attempts at seduction haven't just brought shame to Yato women: she's disgraced every female organism in existence. Sarutobi may be a hardcore masochist, but the pain garnered from witnessing the Yato's failure is almost too much to bear.
This is a horror movie in action with every woman's worst fears coming to life in one room.
The worst part of it all is that her victim isn't even resisting her! He's had his hair pulled out, his groin impaled by her bones, his eyes tortured by the ungodly sight of her in makeup, yet he has the audacity to casually lounge around with a monster on his lap and look amused about the whole ordeal.
Sarutobi isn't particularly surprised to find Kagura playing hide the sausage with the police boy; one doesn't need to be a pervert to notice the sexual tension lingering around those two in their younger years. Rather, her bemusement stems from their foreplay or whatever the hell one would call this.
Isn't he supposed to be a sadist?
Whatever guilt Sarutobi felt for rejecting Sougo in the past is retracted, replaced with relief. This guy's a phoney. No genuine sadist would let a woman violate them like that regardless of how attractive she is. This pretty boy isn't even half the sadist Gintoki is: if the white-haired samurai was in that position he would have roughly shoved her off of him by now and thrown in a few insults for good measure.
Her cheeks warm. She could imagine him right now…
"Gin-sannnn!" Sacchan crawls onto his lap, tussling his hair as she rubs her curvaceous body against his muscular frame. Leaning towards him with her lips puckered, she gets a mouthful of his palm.
"Get off, pervert." He grabs the incoming face — muffling his assailant's protests — and pushes it away, the force of his shove sending her careening off of the sofa and onto the ground in a crumpled heap.
"Yes! Bully me more!"
A thrill of pleasure shoots up Sarutobi's spine at the thought of being on the receiving end of Gintoki's rough handling. She fans her face, hoping it would somehow cool of the flames of passion ignited by her scandalous thoughts. It wouldn't do for her to be flustered before the very cause of her ardour appears.
Heaving a dejected sigh she resumes her observation on the unsuspecting couple. As sickening as this is to watch, it should be over soon. Sacchan smiles. She only has to bear with it for a little longer. Besides, the situation can't possibly get any worse.
At least, not until Kagura — in her attempt to kiss Okita on the column of his throat — headbutts him square in the nose.
"That's enough!" He grabs her wrists, holding them tightly as he reprimands her like a child. "What's gotten into you China?"
She avoids his gaze, staring at his clothed chest as she fidgets on his lap. As tempted as she is to defend herself, Kagura would rather burn to death from overexposure to sunlight than admit out loud that she was trying, and failing, to seduce the officer. The bastard is too smooth for his own good: always making the moves, always initiating their sexual activities. Not that she doesn't mind — how could you complain when the sex is as mind-blowing as it is? — but the competitive side of her, the part that will always regard Okita Sougo as her rival, cannot help seeing this as a challenge. If he can seduce her into bed, couldn't she do the same? Apparently not.
Nevertheless, nothing could be more crippling to her ego than letting Sougo know that.
"I know you're an idiot but this is ridiculous." Irritation creeps into his tone. Why won't she look at him?
"You've been acting out of character since I got here. I can look past the paint on your face but the way you attacked me…" Sougo trails off.
For the longest time no words are exchanged. The pindrop silence is more awkward than all of the Yato's attempts at seduction. Sarutobi holds her breath, watching helplessly as the young couple engage in a heated staring contest, neither of them moving in the slightest. She hastily fixes her glasses on her nose, relieved to find them in the same position when she regains her sight.
Kagura eyes him cautiously, overcome with a sense of foreboding as Sougo gazes back at her with an unsettlingly blank expression.
And then his lips quirk upwards.
Fuck.
"Shut up."
His shoulders start to shake.
He knows.
"Shut. Up."
Sougo buries his face in the crook of her neck, halfheartedly trying to cover up his laughter.
"I swear to god I will kill you…" Ripping her wrists out of his grip Kagura reaches for his neck — hands itching to strangle the life out of him — when her stomach growls uncontrollably.
After allowing himself a few more chuckles the officer pulls back, absorbing the flustered appearance of his woman while she stares holes into the wall behind him. There she goes trying to be a tsundere again. As she yells profanities at him — wildly gesturing at disembowelment with her complexion an angry shade of red — Sougo wonders how she'd react if he told her that she doesn't need to doll herself up and play temptress to get his attention.
The policeman opens his mouth and then thinks better of it. He's reached his quota of kindness for the day. Fishing through his clothes Sougo locates his emergency stash of rope, interrupting her tirade to tie it around Kagura's wrists with the impressive dexterity of a professional.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Wrapping his arms around her waist Okita throws the struggling body onto his shoulder, paying close attention to her flailing knees.
"I booked a table for two at the new dango restaurant. We're late." Securing her in place with an arm around her thighs, he rises from the couch.
Kagura pauses her thrashing. "You mean… you didn't want to have sex with me when you came here?"
"Idiot." He smacks of her buttcheek as he heads for the exit, carrying her like a sack of potatoes. "I'm not in it for the sex."
The redhead smiles, a pleasant warmth flooding her chest at his unexpected response. True to his assholish reputation, Sougo's endearing moments are few and far between. And lthough his affection is voiced under the guise of an insult, Kagura has always been able read between the lines. Who knew the sadist could be so sw—
Wait a minute.
"Are you saying I'm bad at sex?"
Sougo hastens to the door, tightening his grip on the amanto.
"Answer me bastard!"
The door slams shut.
Finally.
Sacchan emerges from the ceiling, glasses slipping off the bridge of her nose as she lands gracefully on the carpeted floor. Dropping into a crawl she blindly feels for her spectacles when heavy breathing reaches her ears and a mass of white curls catches the corner of her eye.
"Gin-san?"
Next thing she knows everything goes black.
Sorry for the lack of quality for this lesson and chapter 7 of Tough Love. I'll be really busy in the next few weeks so I might not reply reviews and pms as quickly as usual.
Thanks for reading!
Stay golden.
To read the Vietnamese translation for this lesson, copy and paste the link below (add the "https" part at the start and the ".-c-o-m-/" (without the dashes in between) after "wordpress") into your search bar:
ngoaikhoibobiencuathienchua. wordpress 2016/07/08/fic-dich-to%CC%89ng-ho%CC%A3p-thirteenchrysanthemums-gintama-lesson-1234567/
All credit for the translation goes to the lovely Ginoki!