Dreamland

The night was a peaceful one, as they often were. A soft breeze tousled his hair, rushing water filled the air, moon light glinted off the river with a glare, and Gintoki sat and stared. Stared into the depths from the grassy river bank and saw nothing at all of his elegant surrounds, caught up in the plagues of his thoughts as they swirled and swirled into a whirlpool with no end. Ruminating on each and every one, asking himself how he could have done better, changed that outcome, saved that person, kept that friend.

Every thought that hadn't left him alone for nigh on three weeks now. Every dream that had kept him from sleep. All of it churned inside him tonight, leaving unable to think of anything else. Unable to do anything else but sit and think and stew in the tortures of his own past. Heavens know his friends had made every effort to pull him out of this funk before it got so bad. For the life of him though, he just couldn't do it. Couldn't let it go. Couldn't forget or push it away. Whatever this was, he feared it was here to stay. Here to fester inside him until he'd finally had enough.

He had brought himself out to the riverside that night, unbeknownst to any of his friends. They had all long since laid down to sleep. Each one exhausted from their efforts to cheer him up that day. He loved them all for trying. He had gone along to try and forget, even for a moment he had hoped he would forget. Try as they all might though, nothing had worked. So to avoid lying awake in bed all night, or falling into the horrors that awaited him in slumber, he had walked away.

He had no idea how far he was from the Kabuki district, only that he'd walked for what could have been hours. The was barely at its zenith when he left. Now it sat half way to the horizon, and the world was dark. In this area, the street lights were few and far between. He found it peaceful, to be so far from this new world he lived in. Utterly different from those days, the divide was sometimes jarring.

"Gintoki?"

Moments passed before he reacted. Unaware as he'd been of anyone approaching him, he was surprised that anyone he knew would disturb him like this. A stirring of warmth flickered to life within him. He took his time turning to look, the physical act tearing up his train of thought and stopping it in its tracks when he laid eyes on him. He smiled, a sad little thing mixed with bitterness and mirth, and turned back to the river, head bowed.

"It's Takasugi."

None moved to acknowledge the other with words. He didn't leave, but he did stand behind Gintoki, fiddling with his pipe. Emptying it, filling it, lighting it, smoking it. All in silence broken only by the flow of the river and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Everything in silence between them, everything that wasn't violence. That flicker of warmth was viciously smothered. The last thing Gintoki wanted right now was to fight. He couldn't bare it. Not tonight. So it was with trepidation that he listened as Takasugi stepped closer, closer, until he was right by his side, and relief as he sat beside Gintoki and relaxed. Legs out before him, arms propping him up, pipe hanging from his lips.

Still in silence. They remained like that for some time. Time enough for Gintoki's thoughts to lift off and twist and turn in on themselves again until he could think of nothing else. Not even the silent companionship of friend turned enemy. Not until he spoke.

"I've been hearing about you Gintoki. Katsura been so worried. Enough to talk to Sakamoto who somehow got this gossip into Kiheitai."

Gintoki didn't reply. Unable to find the words he wanted to say. So they fell into silence until Takasugi tried again.

"They must have been desperate, to get word to me. Thinking I could help or would help rather than kill you."

Kill him. The words felt like a sword through his heart. He didn't want to fight anymore!

"What was that? Don't mumble Gintoki, it's a bad habit." He said.

"I don't want to fight you!"

Takasugi was taken aback by the words, so desperate and emotional. He gave Gintoki a close twice over, sure to take him all in. From lightless wet eyes, to slightly sunken cheeks. Pale complexion to the tired slump that was his posture. Clenched hands shaking, teeth grinding his lower lip. He looked like shit. He looked worn down by life. Torn up inside. He was definitely about to cry, of that Takasugi was sure. There was nothing between this life and the next that could stop those tears from falling. There was only one other time in their lives he'd ever seen Gintoki this upset. Obviously, it had everything to do with why he was now suffering.

"Then we won't fight tonight." He said. The words came easily, but they only seemed to make Gintoki more upset. Takasugi didn't know what to do.

"No. I don't want to fight anymore."

"At all?"

"Ever!" Gintoki snapped, "I promised." He said, smaller, softer, as though Takasugi wasn't meant to hear it.

If Gintoki wasn't already, which would very much surprise Takasugi, he would be crying soon. The wobble in his voice becoming uncontrollable. He sniffed a few times but made no move to wipe at his eyes. It seemed as though he wouldn't elaborate without prompting.

"Promised who? Katsura? Sakamoto? They're not going to stop me now?"

"It ain't all about you." With those words, Gintoki slumped over into his lap and hid his face away in Takasugi's kimono and said nothing for a long while. Silence, Takasugi thought, was a change from shouted death threats. One he was unsure he was comfortable with. The longer he stayed the more he felt like this was an important moment, one that could not only make or break Gintoki, but their relationship as well.

He had tried to ignore the tiny glimmer of worry once word had reached him of Gintoki's decline. But he'd given up when he'd found himself redirecting the Kiheitai towards earth and decided to check in. Gintoki had seemed detached but otherwise fine a week ago. It was pure coincidence he'd found him tonight. He wondered what would become of Gintoki if he left now. Or if he hadn't shown up at all.

Gintoki uttered the name of their sensei and Takasugi's heart dropped through his stomach like a high velocity stone.

"What?" He sounded vicious, unkind even to his own ears. The way Gintoki clung to his kimono told him he'd heard the same thing, but between perhaps imminent death and being alone, he had chosen the former.

"I promised Shouyou." He was definitely crying. "When he was taken, he asked me to protect you… and Katsura and everyone. I promised him I would." He wasn't even trying to hide it, curling up against his side and spilling everything through tears. "So I couldn't protect him then."

Takasugi stared at the moons reflection on the river.

Then.

A moment in time that was burned into all of them, and Gintoki had bared the burden all these years. Their sensei's head on his shoulders. One promise broken, another fulfilled. Neither alleviating the weight dragging him down to this day. The reason Gintoki had betrayed his trust. A promise to their sensei. A promise to protect them above all else, even himself.

Takasugi's hand landed in Gintoki's hair. Gintoki flinched, no doubt expecting a denial and violent retribution if Takasugi considered his words a lie. But their sensei's word was law, and the very last thing Gintoki would ever do is lie about that. His fingers began to work through the mess of curls, gently unknotting where they were snagged by the unkept disaster. Slowly, with every gentle touch, Gintoki began to relax, though his tears still ran. Throwing away suspicion of violence and letting Takasugi do as pleased in an attempt to sooth him. He still clung desperately to Takasugi's kimono, curled up by his side, head in his lap. But the longer he stayed there, the more peaceful he felt. A feeling he hadn't felt since this had started.

Deep inside, however, was a cold feeling. A feeling that this wasn't going to last. That this was a one-time situation and despite his stated need to not fight him anymore, the next time they met, maybe even tomorrow, they would be back to square one. There was something he desperately wanted to know. Something that had weighed on his mind the second he'd been given that cursed choice between peer and professor. Something he was terrified to ask of either Takasugi or Katsura. Unsure of the answer. Unsure if he truly wanted to hear it. Unsure if he could truly handle the truth.

But he also felt like it was now or never. Like this was the one chance he would get to say it clearly and survive the outcome, no matter the response. Like this moment could change everything, if only he could ask.

"T-Takasugi?"

"Mm?" His fingers worked out a knot and swept through Gintoki's hair once more.

"Will," He faltered. He couldn't say it. Couldn't ask it. Did he even have the right? Takasugi waited for him to continue, never stopping carding through his hair. Patiently waited. For many minutes before he tugged on Gintoki's locks, prompting a stifled whine, all Gintoki would allow out least he let slip a sob or cry.

"Will I what?" Takasugi asked, softer than before, calmer. Gintoki gathered himself for a moment, took a deep, shaky breath and swallowed his tears for the time it took to complete his request.

"Could you ever forgive me?"

Shock stopped him dead in his tracks. Fingers frozen, eyes snapping down to the lump in his lap. Forgive him? Nor Will he like it was supposed to be. Nor Would he like it should be. But Could he? Could he ever? As though Gintoki expected Takasugi would never have considered it. Did he think the same of Katsura, despite their good rapport? Would he ask forgiveness from Katsura? Had he asked forgiveness from Katsura?

Gintoki shifted in his lap, moved to get up. Takasugi let him. He was shaking head to toe, breath fast and hitched. Takasugi was sure Gintoki's tears flowed as fast and as string as the river they sat before. Before Gintoki could stand Takasugi had slid in next to him and held him down. Held him close. Held him in his arms and buried his face in Gintoki's nest of fluffy hair. He tried to struggle away at first. Still prepared and expecting an attack. The longer Takasugi held on, the more he just gave up fighting. The faster he dropped into the hug, accepted it and let himself be comforted by it.

Takasugi didn't speak again until Gintoki had stopped shaking. Stopped sobbing. Almost stopped crying altogether bar the slow dregs of tears that fell every now and then. By now the sky was a deep purple, the moon sitting just above the horizon, the sun only just below it. Gintoki was calm. Gintoki was still and warm and so drowsy he could hardly keep his eyes open. It was then that Takasugi spoke, quietly, right into his ear before he slipped off to sleep.

"I already forgave you."