Disclaimer: All characters belong to Sorachi Hideaki
Warnings: None
Notes: Post-Shinsengumi Discord Arc. Credit and appreciation goes to ringo ame for inspiring the Yamazaki Convenience Store scene.
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:: OUT OF TUNE 1 ::
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Two weeks ago, I caught a Shinsengumi spy who appeared to be the runt of the litter among the Bakufu dogs. But as I prepared to cull him, I became aware of the song of his soul, and it sounded like the opening intro of the best punk rock song I've ever heard. The guitars were bright and fast like the spinning wheels of kids racing down the neighbourhood on their BMX bikes. The cymbals were crisp like the hiss of a shuttlecock smashed at 90m/s. His vocals sounded more sandpapery than a scratchy box of sand when he said his Vice-Commander's name.
An ice-cold tingle ran down my spine as I withdrew my katana. The kid tumbled to the ground like the death gurgle of a microphone, but incredibly enough, his music surged onwards untainted by fear or hate. He simply didn't care about himself. He was tenaciously determined to warn his comrades of Itou's deadly betrayal. He shouldn't have been able to move at all, but he managed to get back on his feet, not discouraged in the least by the crimson torrent burbling and splattering from his side. Goosebumps prickled across my skin. The guy was either incredibly stupid or incredibly naive, but his music was… epic. Something about his music made the battlefield fade far, far away. Compared to how fresh his song was, all my revolutionary ideals seemed fake and plastic.
Only his soul sounds were real.
I realized that I had to save him. Before rejoining the fray I quickly slapped plasters over his back and ribs to stop the bleeding. "Don't die on me, buddy," I said, "I want to listen to your music one more time."
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That was two weeks ago. Our strike against the Shinsengumi ended with my humiliating defeat at Gintoki's hands. Even now, I still don't understand how he did it. How on earth was he able to summon the superhuman strength to drag my helicopter down from the sky? Is that even humanly possible?! No, that feat is simply beyond the bounds of human strength! But he really did it! How…?
The song of his soul told me the answer.
You know what? I've heard that song before…within my own soul. Its not there anymore, though.
Does that mean that I'm dead inside?
Being a human is such a pain. I don't want to be a human being.
I want to be a… MICROPHONE!!
Since my mission ended and Shinsuke returned to Kyoto, I've been obsessed with capturing the soul sounds I heard that day. I cancelled all social appointments and holed up in the studio with my shamisen, recording riffs, melodies, mood synths…anything, anything that gushed from my memory related to the events of that day. I wore out two 40 page notebooks and arranged 8 complete songs in 2 weeks. Don't get me wrong, I was proud of my songs. They were well-crafted and worthy of shifting 300,000+ copies on the first day if performed by one of my delightfully kawaii audioslaves, sorry, I meant ingénues. But I felt so infuriated my hair spiked up on its own without the need for Gatsby number 7. None of the pieces even came close to the sounds I heard that day. I started to doubt my sanity as melody blended with memory…I grabbed my head, asking my muse to let me relive those moments exactly, oh what would I give to hear that incredible vision again?! From time to time I felt the temptation to seek out their original creators, Gintoki or Yamazaki – it didn't matter which one – but something always held me back. I think I might really betray Shinsuke if I heard those sounds again. Unthinkable as it was, I might really defect from the Kiheitai over a piece of punk rock. This would be terribly out of sync with the rules of Bushido, even if my soul sounds were already out of tune with my leader.
A promise made is a promise kept.
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6pm. I decided I had been working too hard so I stepped outside and took a walk in Kabuki-cho to clear my head. The sky was pleasantly peach-colored and a warm breeze was blowing. Other than feeling a little disoriented by the kaleidoscopic change of musical genres every few steps I took, I felt refreshed.
A familiar piece of indie punk made my ears perk up. Now if that wasn't Yamazaki, the Shinsengumi guy, walking briskly in front of me. I quickly positioned myself behind his left shoulder and followed closely.
He had a note in his hand and could hear his boyish tenor reading out its contents. "…Cigarettes for Hijikata Vice-Commander, S. Magazine for Okita, plasters with dinosaur prints, milk, eggs and flour, a can of spam, a bunch of bananas, a bottle of mayonnaise, one Justaway and one Tonkatsu takeaway. Yossshhh!" Yamazaki arrived at a convenience store and entered. He went straight to the magazine stand, picked out a glossy and started reading. I hid behind a revolving greeting card rack and pretended to be examining the cards, but in fact I was straining my ears to catch his soul song.
Yamazaki's song wasn't the same one I remembered, which made me feel a wee bit disappointed. It's like meeting someone who smells really good but the next time you meet him or her, something's changed. Maybe it's the perfume, or shampoo, or simply the B.O. Anyways, that illusive something that so attracted you is gone forever. It's just a wee bit disappointing, you know. No…scratch that. It's very disappointing. The more I thought about it, the more emo I felt. Now that he had miraculously reappeared in front of me, I desperately wanted to hear that song, the song I heard that day. But no sane man would be digging deep into the darkest depths of his soul while filling out a laundry list!
What should I do to make him play that song again?
Yamazaki had been browsing through that magazine for quite some time now. To be precise, it's been more than 15 minutes. I squinted through the wire rack at him. He had a big smile on his face and looked as happy as a badminton-lover with front row seats for the Yonex Cup. I fidgeted. What's taking him so long? Just what the heck was he reading? Don't tell me he was enjoying Okita's S. Magazine?! I squinted through the wires stand. It was TennisWeek. TennisWeek?! Why was he reading TennisWeek? Wasn't he a badminton-lover? And wasn't he supposed to be running an errand, not wasting his time reading?
At that moment, the Shinsengumi spy seemed to remember his mission. He took TennisWeek to the cashier, paid for it and left the store.
Hey! What about Hijikata's smokes? And Okita's S. magazine? And dinosaur plasters? Hey! I felt like shouting at him. I waited until he had left and the sliding door slid shut before stepping out. I saw Yamazaki's back walking in front of me. Just as the automatic door closed behind me, he suddenly stood stock still, hit his fist into his palm and ran straight towards me.
To be continued...
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