What's this? I've updated two fics in less than a fortnight? I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT EITHER.
I'm not going to lie: this is rushed and sloppy and not even half as decent as Lesson 1.
I pray that your eyes do not bleed out from my failed attempts at humor.
The sun emits a gentle glow, caressing whatever its light touches with a warmth that parallels the tender feeling of being in your mother's womb. Waves roll towards the shore, encasing the sun's radiance in its waters. Birds soar in the cloudless sky, taking full advantage of the lack of precipitated obstacles. Ladies of voluptuous figures dress in bikinis, giggling with glee as they splash each other with sea water and offer their skin to ultraviolet rays and the leering gazes of men. No demon-like shrieks from children can be heard as the little menaces are too preoccupied with building the biggest sandcastles.
In essence, the beach has everything a hotblooded male yearns for.
As luck would have it, a group of the most hotblooded men Edo has to offer have gathered. Primarily, the Shinsengumi are here undercover to investigate rumours of Joui rebels conducting meetings within the area. And like the civilians they pose as, the policemen happily indulge in typical beach behaviour (playing volleyball and leering at attractive women). In fact, it appears that there is little difference between work and play today since their mission entitles them to just have fun in general. No wonder why officers are all too willing to to accept the mission.
Unfortunately Yamazaki cannot say the same for his superiors.
Kondo, having stripped down to his underwear in a horrible attempt to "blend in" did not anticipate a swarm of sandflies feasting on his flesh. He currently finds himself doing a sassy and fast-paced version of the Macarena as he tries to crush the insects before they get him first.
Meanwhile, Hijikata lurks mysteriously in a corner scanning the beach for Joui patriots like the dedicated policeman he is. However, given the absence of his uniform, the smoker looks less like a heroic officer on duty and more like a desperate sexual predator with every passing second.
("Mommy, who is that man and why is he standing there alone?")
An angry tick appears on his head. His eyes darken.
("Sweetheart don't go near him ok?")
Yamazaki backs away from the man slowly, sensing his rapidly blackening aura and wanting to have no part in it.
Possibly the only high ranked officer enjoying himself is their first division captain. Despite having been on the beach for no more than 10 minutes, the flaxen-haired man has already assembled a crew of submissive women at his feet. Literally. As Okita whips his collared fangirls he visibly relishes in the crisp sound of leather smacking against skin. Yamazaki shivers at the glimmer of amusement in his captain's blood-red irises as he commands them to bark and crawl on all fours "like the bitches they are".
'He really is the prince of sadists.'
However, they aren't the only familiar faces in the vicinity.
"Oi Kagura! Fetch my camera. Gin-chan wants to capture this moment so he can look at it on his deathbed and die a happy man."
Like a curry stain on a white shirt, the distinguishable mop of silver hair taints the perfect setting. As if on cue, the bloodthirsty aura emanating from Hijikata's direction strengthens tenfold, instantly becoming malicious enough to strike fear into the hearts of all grown men within a hundred-mile radius. The hairs on the back of Yamazaki's neck stand and intuition warns him of the immediate danger his life is in as the smoker's punching bag. Instinctively he moves to ensure he is out of the Vice Commander's range of sight.
"What camera Gin-chan? We're too poor to afford a camera yes?"
In his peripheral vision Yamazaki notices Okita's back straighten at the chipper voice. Spotting a frisbee lying around in the sand, the young samurai picks it up and throws it across half the stretch of the beach yelling "Fetch!" while he does so. His pack of human bitches dutifully chase after the flying object. But instead of watching them obey his command the young man completely ignores their presence, staring heatedly in the opposite direction.
'Don't tell me he's looking at-'
"Yamazaki-san!" The nasal voice brings him out of his musics as he spots Shinpachi jogging lightly towards him, a good guy smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"
All too eager to socialise with regular people, the two plain characters catch up over a game of badminton, empathising with each other's woes as the ordinary men of their gangs. When the spy finally tires of smashing the shuttle at the siscon, he reveals the pile of anpans that follows him for every mediocre mission, suggesting a few rounds of anpan sparking into the sky.
"We could aim for the birds?"
Although Shinpachi is slightly weirded out by the man's hobbies, he accepts the offer.
A few minutes and dead birds later, Gintoki approaches them albeit hesitantly.
Shinpachi pauses mid-throw, turning to his shifty-eyed boss. "Gin-san are you alright?"
"I'm just peachy!" Cue nervous laughter. "Have you seen our sunscreen bottle? I need it."
"Haven't you already put some on?" Yamazaki gestures to the traces of white liquid on Gin's arms.
"Oh have I?" His tone turns defensive. "Well a second coating never hurts anybody!"
It only takes a second for Shinpachi to realise the man is hiding something. "Cut the crap!" He yells, "Who is the sunscreen for?!"
"None of your business!"
"It is my business when you're using my sunscreen!"
"OK OK. IT'S FOR THE BEAUTIFUL SHE-CREATURE WHO FORGOT HERS." Gesturing to his left Gin alerts them to a particularly curvaceous woman who smiles and waves back. Gin raises a shaky hand in acknowledgement, laughing nervously once more before turning back to the cherry boys, "Don't ruin this for me pachi-boy, she says I can rub it on her if I get her some. Let an old man live out his dirtiest beach fantasy before he kicks the bucket!"
Yamazaki sighs at the perverted exchange between the Yorozuya members and searches for their female coworker: if these two are so starved of attention from attractive women he can only imagine how grotesque Kagura's physical appearance is under that Chinese dress.
Black eyes survey the beach, looking for a figure clad in red or an oversized dog (since the latter always leads to the former). He finds the canine first and mentally face-palms at the sight of the dog cuddling with a lady wearing a two piece. Of coursethe only male member of the Yorozuya that can attract a beautiful woman is the overgrown hellhound!
But as he further inspects the female, realisation punches him in the gut and his jaw plummets to the sand.
Those vermillion tresses and light skin-tone can only belong to one psychopath.
Yet that is the only feature Yamazaki recognises. Surely that toned body, sculpted with swelling breasts, a narrow waist and round hips, do not belong to the Yorozuya's China girl?! Not the uncouth teenager who runs her mouth off, using words even sailors would blush at, right?
No no no. This must just be another woman with the same colour hair and skin.
Just when Yamazaki is in the midst of convincing himself that the Yorozuya replaced the alien-girl with a Victoria Secret model, said model detaches herself from the white ball of fur and proceeds to jam her pinkie finger into her left nostril so deep that she might as well be digging for gold.
'That's the China girl for sure.'
Turning back to the men arguing beside him Yamazaki muses out loud, "Now that you have a grown woman living with you, shouldn't you both be past all this woman-hunting?"
His question is met with blank stares. At their confused expressions Yamazaki elaborates, "Kagura?"
A brief pause ensues before the two burst into full-blown laughter.
"All than anpan is messing with your brain Yamazaki-san!" Shinpachi chides between his guffaws.
"But-"
"Baaaaaaaaka. Kagura doesn't have curves!" Gintoki points at his foster-daughter, "Look closely. Those aren't breasts, they're oranges!"
Try as hard as he might Yamazaki could not see the oranges tucked in her bikini. But when he looks back at the two men, observing how they're laughing too loudly and looking anywhere but at each other or the girl, he realises that denial is only self-curable.
Shrugging nonchalantly he decides that it doesn't really matter. Tama is still the only woman for him.
When he spots his captain approaching the amanto, he braces himself for the fight that is bound to break out. The spy may not know much about their rivalry but even strangers know that violence is a key factor in the pair's interactions.
And so he waits in anticipation as the samurai saunters towards the yato at an achingly slow pace before coming to a halt at a meter's distance.
Much to his surprise they appear to be having a normal conversation. Yamazaki's skin feels clammy. Something is definitely wrong here. Since when do the two most insane beings on the planet engage in anything but battle, let alone in normal conversation?
He rubs his eyes.
Evaluating their body language, he notes how something about the way Okita's hands are buried in the pockets of his board shorts resembles that of a cherry boy talking to a pretty girl for the first time.
The inspector scoffs at the notion.
'That's impossible. This is just an act. There must be some bazookas in taichou's pockets. He's probably waiting for the right time to attack.'
But, to his confusion, the young swordsman's hands remain in his pockets throughout their exchange.
The yato's head tilts at something his captain says, and when he sees her scratch the back of her head with a winning smile on her face as she replies Okita in a rather adorable fashion, Yamazaki resorts to punching himself in the face to improve his clearly failing sight.
Maybe it's time for him to wear glasses.
The idea leaves his mind just as quickly as it enters. He's plain enough without the accessories. Wearing glasses would confirm his role as the "Shinpachi" of the Shinsengumi; it would be damn near impossible to tell them apart then!
'Author-san will always try to find a way to make me even less important! This isn't even the fucking Gorilla's story and I'm still nothing more than Shinpachi's double!'
The spy breaks out of his inner rant just in time to see Okita hesitantly nod at something the girl requests. She rummages through her leather pouch and Yamazaki braces himself once again.
'This is the part where she takes out her weapon and attacks him.'
Yet once again, nothing violent happens.
Instead the amanto produces a bottle of sunscreen, passing it to her rival before tying her vermillion tresses into a top bun. Yamazaki unconsciously pops open a packet of anpan and munches on it, his eyes never leaving the couple as he does so.
When his captain moves to stand behind Kagura he holds his breath, expecting the young lad to pull a fast one on the girl in front of him. Maybe he'll dump the bottle's contents in her hair? Or perhaps even surprise attack her from behind with a bazooka to her head? A german supplex?
Once again, Okita does neither of these things.
Instead, the officer coat his hands in sunscreen lotion and rub it all over the Yorozuya girl's body in slow, disgustingly sensual movements. Yamazaki pushes down the bile rising in his throat as he witnesses the flaxen-haired man's overly saccharine and uncharacteristic actions. His eyes shift to look at Kagura and this time he isn't able to stop himself from vomiting at the sight of the flustered girl just standing there and letting him run his hands over her back.
'This isn't a TV show, it's a god-damn porno!'
While Kagura cheeks are as rosy as her hair from the attention her rival (and possibly other bystanders) shower her with, the shit-eating grin on Okita's face is a clear indication that he couldn't care less if people are watching.
'Speaking of people watching…'
The spy turns back to the male members of the Yorozuya, curious as to why they haven't done anything to stop Kagura from getting manhandled. He doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when he finds that neither Shinpachi nor Gintoki are paying attention to the public display of affection.
At some point within the last few minutes Hijikata left his surveillance corner to trash talk the silver samurai. Of course the latter is only too willing to reciprocate the Vice Commander's insults in kind, inducing Shinpachi's measly attempts to mediate between the two swordsmen. The three of them are so lost in their world of verbal warfare that the curvaceous woman from earlier has given up trying to get the danna's attention ('A once in a lifetime opportunity for Gintoki missed,'Yamazaki believes) and left them to their own devices.
In other words, none of them give a shit about their juniors' activities.
He doesn't know if their ignorance towards the clear sexual tension between their wards is a result of nonchalance or sheer stupidity. Knowing these guys it's probably both.
Yamazaki turns back to the ignored couple despite every instinct warning him against doing so, silently wondering why Gintoki didn't ask his foster-daughter for her sunscreen if he so desperately needed it earlier.
He gets his answer when he finds Kagura's skin completely blue.
'Just how long did I look away for?'
Initially he assumes her blue complexion is a result of Okita successfully pranking the girl. He sighs in relief to learn that the earlier display of affection was all merely a ploy by the flaxen-haired man to make her look like a giant smurf.
'Could've fooled me…'
But when he sees the genuine look of shock on Okita's face he realises how horribly, horribly wrong he is.
None of that intimacy was faked.
None of it.
'Hijikata-san is right. It's about time I commit seppuku.'
"Are you revealing your true form?" Sougo steps away from the blue creature. "Took you long enough."
"No you shit-for-brains. It's the sunscreen."
At the sadist's disbelieving stare Kagura rolls her eyes. "The blue coating protects a Yato's skin from sunlight. This is meant to happen."
He chuckles, "China, even the smurfs are copyrighted. There's no end to your illegal actions is there?"
She replies with a solid punch to his face.
Gintoki and Hijikata's petty argument is interrupted when the sound of weapons clashing reaches their ears. They turn to its source and shake their heads like disappointed parents when they find their younger comrades ruthlessly battling it out on the sand.
"Oi Souchiro-kun you'll never get a girl like that."
Yamazaki has half a mind to tell the curly-haired samurai that this is the man who was carrying out his dirtiest beach fantasy with his daughter just minutes before, but decides against it. They wouldn't believe him even if he tells them.
'Are they always like this when these idiots aren't looking? Do we only pay attention to them when they're fighting?'
Shinpachi, although secretly relieved that he no longer has to play peacemaker for the older men, frowns at the sight.
"Kagura-chan! Okita-san! Stop fighting!" He turns to Yamazaki, "These two are always fighting. They can't even have onepleasant conversation."
While pretending to listen to Shinpachi complain about their immaturity, Yamazaki questions if denial and stupidity come hand in hand.
'But more importantly...HOW LONG HAS THIS RELATIONSHIP BEEN GOING ON FOR?! HOW HAS NOBODY NOTICED?!'
As he watches the fierce sparring match between the two rivals/friends/something-more?, he thinks to himself that Okita must have been really thorough. Not a single inch of Kagura's skin, from head to toe, is free from the blue colour of her sunscreen.
Really thorough...
"GYAAAAAAH. Yamazaki-san! Don't puke on me!"
I've been writing too many feels fics so I figured I should try something funny.
Sorry if it isn't funny. I don't know how to funny.
To read the Vietnamese translation for this lesson, copy and paste the link below (add the "https" part at the start and the ".-c-o-m-/" (without the dashes in between) after "wordpress") into your search bar:
ngoaikhoibobiencuathienchua. wordpress 2016/07/08/fic-dich-to%CC%89ng-ho%CC%A3p-thirteenchrysanthemums-gintama-lesson-1234567/
All credit for the translation goes to the lovely Ginoki!
