"It's making my ass itchy."
"You're just imagining things," came the reply from down near the floor. "The silk barely even touches there, anyways."
"The thought of it makes my ass itchy."
The young samurai-to-be sighed, and let the comments slide, not bothering to try and argue back. Arguing with Gin was almost always impossible, nothing insulted him - unless you comment that his hair is the reason he doesn't attract very many girls. Nothing hurt him - except the fact that he's a borderline diabetic and can only have sugar once a week. Nothing could sour his mood - unless he hasn't had his sugar fix... he did get grumpy if he hadn't had that. And he was too stubborn to admit that he was wrong. So maybe some things did affect him.
"Shinpachi," Shin braced himself for another complaint from the silver haired samurai, "did Zura himself invite us, or did he ask one of his floogies to do it for him?" Gin's tone was light, as if he didn't care much. Shin knew that was a lie, though, Gin had fairly intense feelings about his old friends. He just wasn't sure what kind of feelings yet.
He thought back to the phone call he had recieved the week before. "Don't worry, it was definitely Katsura-san," he remembered how Kagura had answered the phone with a triumphant "ZURA-SAN!" and how loud he heard Katsura's reply of, "IT'S NOT ZURA, I'M KATSURA!"
Gin scrunched up his face and sniffed, "Well. I guess that's alright then. Because if it was one of those pathetic wanna-be-terrorists I swear I would not go through all this trouble-"
"Trouble putting on a kimono?"
Gin glared down at Shin who was straightening out the bottom folds of Gin's robe, "Yes, the trouble of putting on a kimono, what else would be so...troubling?"