Disclaimer: Gintama not mine.
Blood Tells
Kagura is Yato, and sometimes, Yato is her.
On the good days, she hates this. She hates having to hold herself in with precision and care. She hates feeling like this world is too small for her, and growing smaller by the day. Most of all, she hates being the lame wolf, claws sheathed, huddled and ashamed under a sheep's skin. The only way Kagura knows to stay sane is to swagger down these foreign streets as though she fears nothing and no-one. As though she belongs.
On the bad days, she loves it. Sometimes after she kills, when her control is a little frayed or her conscience a little weary, Kagura wants to kneel down so the red silk of her pants is stained deeper and darker. Her wolf's heart wants to cup the blood of her enemies and savor their defeat all over again. But the weight of the sheep's skin on her shoulders is too heavy, as is the weight of Gin-san's eyes and Shinpachi's smile.
But when it's that four-eyed nuisance's blood that splatters across the floor and he's pinned there like a butterfly, Kagura feels her own blood answer. (No, Kagura!) He is screaming something but there's too much screaming inside her head for her to know which voice is his. In the heartbeat before she plummets down the sheer drop into psychosis, she remembers her brother, who never resurfaced. Kagura falls wondering if she'll ever see the sun or sanity again.