The Kuroneko-Chan & the Shiroyasha Arc
Author: HijiPine (Samsarapine on LJ and AO3)
Pairing: Sakata Gintoki/Hijikata Toshiro
Rating: M
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Major cliché romping: 1) Hijikata Turned Into a Cat-Boy With Girl Bits (With Occasional Het-Sounding Sex, Though It Really Isn't, Since This is M/M); 2) Enforced Captivity Leading to Sex; 3) Main Characters Becoming Sex Workers To Survive; 4) Astronomically Improbable Coincidental Meeting That Leads to Rescue; 5) Shinsengumi Stalking Behavior; and 6) Other Various and Sundry Overused Plot Devices. Replete with Very Bad Language, violence (and some bloody/gory bits); raunchy humor; (edited) sex, genderbending and a smidgeon of character development to pull it all together and give it a tiny bit of credibility. Adult readers can find the unedited version at my LJ or AO3 accounts.
Story Summary: Gintoki and Hijikata are kidnapped by an alien, have a lot of sex, fight a lot, and talk about contracts. Hijikata gets cat ears and a tail as well as girl-bits. Cliches run rampant, and there are pirates. Raunchy fun and adventure for all!
Disclaimer: Sakata Gintoki, Hijikata Toshiro and all associated characters from the Gintama universe are the property of Sorachi Hideaki and those to whom he has licensed his creations. No copyright infringement is intended. The author is making no profit from this story.
Author's notes: Much love and deep thanks go to Kansouame, my amazing beta. Without her, this story would have been utter chaos. I've done some work on it since she last saw it, though, so any remaining mistakes are mine.
Chapter Summary: Lesson 1: In which Gintoki and Hijikata argue about food, atomize their meals, stop a terrorist attack and have the opportunity to name their asking price.
The Kuroneko-Chan & the Shiroyasha Arc
Lesson 1: Black and White is Like Day and Night Except When You're in Space or Unconscious, When It's Pretty Much Just Black.
A parfait wasn't a substitute for sex, but something about sinking a spoon deep into the melting spirals of rich cream and firm, rounded globes of vanilla and pulling it out, swirls of sweet chocolate syrup clinging to the cold metal surface before surrendering to a searching tongue, was pretty close to it, as far as Sakata Gintoki was concerned.
And it was permissible in public. He could be in the middle of a crowded restaurant (which he was) – surrounded by innocent women and children (well, probably not, innocence being rare these days) – in the presence of aliens (especially the noisy and lewd Amanto group two booths away) – and still indulge himself in the oral equivalent of jerking off.
Life didn't get much damned better. He pushed his spoon in and out a few times, enjoying his growing arousal. Damn. Sugar was just so sexy dressed as ice cream.
The stink of cigarettes gave him an instant's warning, but the sweet siren voice of the parfait had ruined his reaction time, and Hijikata Toshiro slid into the other side of the booth before Gintoki could do anything to discourage him from sitting there, like maim him or kick him in the balls.
"Oi, put that boner away before you poke someone's eye out, Yorozuya."
Gintoki scowled. "Like you know a boner when you see one, Shinsengumi. And sit somewhere else. I don't want people to think I know you."
"Every teenage boy knows what a boner is, for cripes sake. I'll have the usual," Hijikata added to the waitress. She bowed and fluttered her eyelashes as she left to place his order.
She didn't do that for me, Gintoki thought, though without the energy to be truly resentful. He figured it was the uniform, especially the tight trousers. Gintoki was a Bad Boy, but Hijikata was a Bad Boy in Tight Uniform Trousers. "If I wore tight uniform trousers, I'd get more girls than him," he muttered to himself.
"You say something?"
"No."
The parfait beckoned Gintoki with its sweet scents of cream and sugar and chocolate, and he felt his spirits rise again. At least parfaits weren't fickle. He could become one with a parfait and not have to worry about waking up next to some empty dessert glass with smeared lipstick and a peevish expression.
"Oi. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? I thought your boss was the only stalker in the Shinsengumi." Gintoki deliberately dipped his spoon into his parfait again and moved it up and down as blatantly as he could. He didn't bother to hide the evidence tenting the front of his black trousers. Fuck Hijikata anyway.
"Die, bastard." Hijikata accepted a bowl of something covered with a thick layer of mayonnaise from the waitress. He eyed the mound before pulling another bottle from his pocket.
Gintoki shuddered as Hijikata poured more mayonnaise over the bowl. "I hear that eating too much mayonnaise leads to impotence."
"Curly white hair means terminal stupidity." Tossing aside the empty bottle, Hijikata picked up the bowl. "Shut up and let me eat in peace."
"The only true peace is One Piece. You've got to be a monkey to find it."
"If you don't shut up, I'll kill you."
Gintoki didn't bother to reply because his parfait had reached the perfect hard/soft consistency and he didn't have time for assholes. He savored another spoonful and bliss flooded his soul. Parfaits. No, women didn't have a thing on them—
Something shattered the window beside him and landed in his parfait glass. He blinked at it in outraged incredulity. "Someone just threw something into my parfait! My perfect parfait!"
Funny. It looked like a bomb.
00:06…00:05…00:04…00:03…
He swallowed hard and tossed it to Hijikata. "It's for you."
The bomb landed in Hijikata's meal. Gintoki dove to the floor.
Hijikata's eyes widened and he ducked just before the blast rocked the little restaurant. Wood splinters and shards of glass flew through the air amidst screams and droplets of mayonnaise.
"You blew up my ramen, you son of a bitch!" Coughing, Hijikata whipped out his sword. "I'll kill you!"
"They were after you, you bastard! You owe me a parfait!" Gintoki pulled out his wooden sword and crouched in readiness. He'd give the asshole mayonnaise—
His revenge fantasy was interrupted as a wave of armed men stormed through the ruined door of the restaurant.
"We're the Freedom Unit Committed to Killing Every Damned Useless Pan-galactic!" the first man shouted, waving a bazooka in the air. "Amanto Ambassador, prepare to die!"
A well-dressed three-eyed Amanto, seated at what remained of the lewd party's table, blinked. "I say, that's a bit harsh, isn't it? I mean, I don't believe we've even been properly introduced."
"Wait. You're FUCKEDUP?" Gintoki couldn't believe the stupidity of the name. Zura must have had something to do with it. "You named yourselves FUCKEDUP?"
"Shut up or I'll kill you, too!" The leader said, brandishing his bazooka with a flourish. He turned back to the Amanto. "Die, you Amanto son of a bitch!"
The Amanto looked hurt. "At least get to know me before you make death threats against my life—"
"I said, shut up!"
"I told you we needed a better name—" one of the terrorists stage-whispered.
"Shut UP! We voted!"
"Of course, once people get to know me, death threats are fairly standard fare—"
"JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" The man turned the bazooka on the Amanto table. "Die, you crazy-ass invading alien bastard!"
A bazooka might be all well and good for killing Amanto under most circumstances, but there were the aforementioned innocent women and children in the remains of the shattered restaurant to think about, even if their innocence only existed in theory.
Gintoki leapt forward.
Hijikata was right beside him. "You're all fucking under arrest, you crazy fanatic bastards!"
Gintoki swung his sword like a baseball bat. The bazooka shattered under the impact, and the lead terrorist flew through the air and crashed through the remains of the door that had once led to the kitchen. Hijikata sent the remainder of the terrorists scurrying as he charged into them, his sword flying and darting like a snake.
Within moments, all of them had been subdued or had surrendered, the leader cursing furiously as Hijikata put the cuffs on him and dragged him back to where the others groaned in pain or sat dejectedly, cuffed to the bar rail.
"…Fucking shit-nosed…"
"Shut up, loser," Hijikata said.
"…ass-kissing, traitorous…"
"You're getting on my nerves, asshole."
"…Shinsengumi bastards—"
There was a thunk, then silence.
Hijikata kicked the terrorist to make sure that the butt of his sword had done its job. "Damned right you're FUCKEDUP."
"My restaurant! You blew up my restaurant!" The man was fat and bald and his face was covered with sweat, snot, and tears. Gintoki really, really hoped he wasn't the cook.
"It wasn't my fault this time." Hijikata wiped his blade and returned it to its sheath. "Call Shinsengumi headquarters and have them send someone down to pick these idiots up."
The restaurant owner stared at him. "Don't you have a police radio or something?"
Hijikata grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Just call the fucking Shinsengumi, will you? Tell 'em it's for Vice-Commander Hijikata." He released the trembling man.
"Y-yes, sir. R-right, sir." The owner backed away through the rubble towards the kitchen, where Gintoki presumed there was a phone, or maybe a convenient escape route, since everyone knew that Vice-Commander Hijikata was a psycho killer in a Shinsengumi uniform.
"Oi," Gintoki said, poking the unconscious leader's side and putting his sword away. "Pan-galactics? Isn't that copyright infringement?"
Hijikata made a disgusted sound. "It's become a common-use noun, you idiot."
"Really? Like kleenex?"
"More like hoover."
"But hoover's used as a verb."
"Die already."
A nasal voice cut their argument short. "I say! You two!"
Gintoki and Hijikata turned to the small crowd of customers who remained, mainly Amanto who were too stupid and arrogant to run away. The smarter customers had long since disappeared; nobody liked getting mixed up with the Shinsengumi.
The three-eyed ambassador beckoned to them. "You two! Wait! I wish to talk to you!"
"Unless it's about a reward or a job, I'm not interested," Gintoki said.
"I'm not interested, period." Hijikata glared at Gintoki.
"What? He's the one who asked you to wait, not me!" Gintoki protested.
The ambassador stumbled through the debris. "I say!" His three eyes gleamed and the light streaming through the dust cloud made his skin shimmer like gold. "You're quite attractive for monkeys, aren't you? Might you be samurai?"
"What the fuck?" Hijikata demanded. "Get out of my face! I'm a fucking officer of the Shisengumi, you freak!"
"You're the one who made all the crude sex comments, aren't you?" Gintoki looked at the Amanto with a tinge of admiration. "You've got a hell of a mouth on you."
"I quite like your package, too." The Amanto leered. "In fact, that's what I'd like to talk to you about."
Gintoki had a date with a fresh parfait and wasn't inclined to talk. Still… "Is there money in it?"
"Of course. Is there ever a time when money isn't in it?"
Gintoki imagined a really big parfait. "Okay. I'll listen."
"It's your funeral," Hijikata muttered.
The Amanto laid a hand on Gintoki's arm. "Oh, yes. Quite nice and hard, aren't you?"
"Wait a second." Gintoki checked. "Nope. Not any more."
The Amanto beamed. "That can be remedied, I'm sure. Now, the two of you stand together. Come on, that's right," as he shivvied Gintoki next to Hijikata. "Oh, yes. Like a matched set, aren't you? Black and white and butch. And may I say, your swords are truly impressive. Quite breathtaking. May I buy you?"
After blinking stupidly for a moment, Hijikata delivered a neat left cross to the ambassador's jaw and stepped over the Amanto's prone body. "Not for sale, asshole. And you stay the fuck away from me, Sakata," he added, pointing a finger at Gintoki. "You're fucking bad luck."
"I'm not the one who invited you to eat lunch with me. You barged in." Gintoki straightened his kimono and 'accidentally' kicked the ambassador in the balls. How dare he lump him together with Hijikata. Asshole. Gintoki was a million times sexier.
"The Shinsengumi are keeping an eye on you. You're a known associate of rebel groups—"
"Do you think I'm stupid? There's no way in hell I'd be associated with a group that calls itself FUCKEDUP." Hijikata looked like he was about to blow a gasket, which would be kind of fun to see, but Gintoki could hear sirens coming and there was no way he was going to stick around when the rest of the Shinsengumi jerks showed up. Fuck it. He needed to find some sweets to wash away the sorrow of his parfait's too-early-and-much-too-tragic demise. "Later, Stalker."
"Stop, you bastard! You're a witness to a terrorist attack—"
Gintoki ignored Hijikata and headed towards the empty space where the door to the restaurant had once been. The waitress, coughing and waving her hand in front of her face, stopped him. "Excuse me, sir. Your bill."
Gintoki looked at the slip of paper in disbelief. "A bomb went off in my parfait."
"I believe it actually went off in the Shinsengumi gentleman's ramen."
"After landing in my parfait!"
She frowned and grabbed Gintoki's collar. "I suppose that means you won't be leaving a tip," she said in a low, threatening voice.
"Just, just, just – okay, okay, give it here." Gintoki grabbed the paper from her and shoved it in his kimono before prying her hand away. "The tip is on the table." He dashed out the door before she could pound his few scant coins from his sugar-deprived grasp, leaving her staring at the splinters of booth he'd left behind.
The streets were empty – bombs and Hijikata had a tendency to make people scarce – and Gintoki managed to escape down an alley just as the Shinsengumi drove up. He slipped through a few cutbacks and shortcuts, just in case Hijikata sent someone to follow him, but it was just a precaution. Nobody showed up behind him, so he relaxed once he'd put a few streets between him and the remains of the restaurant.
Damned Shinsengumi. People like Hijikata could crap wherever and whenever they wanted to and other people had to clean up the shit they left behind or come out smelling bad. People had a right to lead shit-free lives. Hijikata wasn't bad to have in a fight, and he didn't back down when things got tough, but there was just no sense in the world at all when a guy like that got paid for blowing up restaurants and perfectly innocent ice cream parfaits.
Speaking of which, Gintoki needed a sugar fix. He paused and checked his wallet; it was as empty as he'd figured it would be. Remembering a sweets shop that sometimes was a little careless about collecting payment, he dodged into the next alley without looking.
A split second later, he realized he'd done a really stupid, stupid, thing. "Wait—!"
Something crashed down on his head, effectively silencing his protest.