Disclaimer: No.
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Author's notes: Some of you might have already read this drabble that was originally written for Tumblr. I had no intention posting it here. But seeing as I'm a lazy ass idiot who cannot finish one stupid oneshot, then there you have it.
Happy New Year!
Gintoki didn't even know himself what he was thinking. Maybe he thought he wouldn't get in anyone's way if he died in a graveyard. Maybe he was punishing himself. Maybe he was just looking for a quiet place to die slowly. Maybe he just needed a place to rest for a while before moving on, but then he found that he was too weak and too tired to stand up anymore. So he resolved himself to die there just like that. Maybe he deserved it for not being able to protect his comrades. Maybe they'd finally forgive him then.
It was snowing, but he couldn't even move enough to try to quench his thirst with the cold soft snow – so mockingly white – falling on him, slowly drenching his hair and clothes. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he'd lose consciousness before thirst and cold and hunger became too much to bear, but he couldn't bring himself to hope for that too much. It was probably going to be a long time before he could let go of everything, before he could feel no more pain. The night was going to be filled with pain and death, just like on the battlefield. The only difference was that this time it was him that was dying, not his friends. He was dying in solitude on an abandoned battlefield where no one could see or hear the last struggles of his soul.
And that's when Otose showed up with those manju. And Gintoki couldn't remember the last time he had manju to eat. Or anything to eat at all, for that matter. And that nostalgic smell of fresh manju made him long for a home, and… a life. At that moment all he wanted was a quiet, normal life, and a quiet, normal death. So, with nothing to lose, he forced himself to find new strength to stand once more and make a new promise. To protect.