Gen-Fic taken from prompt by Yato Rumi and Fiana Ocrisielt.
If you wanna say something, thank them guys.
Disclaimer: I don't own the genius world that is Gintama. Nor the effing hilarious scenes.
Warning: Probable spoilers in plot, lack of actual comedy and language, of course.
The cold winter air stung his face, making the red dead-fish eyes squint even further downwards as the dry air made them even itchier than usual.
"Dammit." Gintoki muttered, trying very hard to resist the urge to scratch his sore and puffy eyes but failing, evidently.
The silver haired samurai – now a ronin, to be exact, has never settled anywhere ever since the last bloody war that the Joui patriots participated in ended 2 months ago. He is always on the move now, never stopping more than an instant to eat or rest, afraid of what might happen if he lingers, wandering aimlessly ever since the day the four war buddies bid their final farewells to each other. The freezing weather in Edo is not helping his thoughts, most definitely.
"Achoo!" Gintoki sneezed, quickly bringing up the right sleeve of the raggedy old yukata he wore to wipe away the snot before it became a popsicle on his nose. The stolen clothes from the warehouse supplies of the rebels was all he had left to keep himself from shivering, not that it had really helped much.
Heh, it was practically deserted anyway, with most of the ex-samurais in the war effort having been killed since the start of the fighting to cowards who have lost the will to fight any longer with the Amanto that practically forced themselves into Edo's society. The aliens introduced never before seen technology and took over family businesses all over the country on a rapid scale, crippling the inhabitants' ability to be self-sufficient any longer. After all, one cannot continue fighting on an empty stomach, and even that idiot Takuma had a really hard time trying to continue supplying their forces with sufficient food and clothes before winter sets in.
Idiot he may be, but one cannot deny the admittedly blessed skill he has at accounting and handling their finances throughout the war. Tatsuma may be a born and bred idiot, but even Takasugi had to grudgingly admit that his background in a powerful and well-known merchant household in Edo had the Goddess of Luck shining on him in that one area other than sword fighting – a knack for being a merchant.
Even so, the Idiot was terribly hard pressed a few months back trying to keep up with the drastically changing economy of Edo amidst the war efforts, with the capital markets being shifted to and fro all at the whim of the Amanto - as simply as the snap of a finger. How he managed to get the rebel group to scrape by while still saving up money for his dream of venturing into outer space, Tatsuma actually gained a few notches of respect in Gintoki's eyes.
Not that he'll say that to that man's face. Ever.
Still, that brought about a lot of bad feelings in that soft-hearted Zura, who swore to continue on the Jouishishi even in their absence to liberate the citizens of Edo (his words), just as the 4 of them parted. Takasugi, that bastard, still tried to act cool by leaving first, simply waving a hand in farewell as he called for the Kiheitai to him as he left. The Idiot decided to leave for space that day.
Gintoki? He wandered, nowhere in mind, nowhere to go.
The bloody Joui war has definitely taken its toll on them, with hungry nearly being the least of Gintoki's problems.
"Hell." He stared up at the lightly snowing sky, praying that the day get better soon.
"Please! Don't hurt him!" A young man's voice cut through the dead winter air clearly, coming from the shadowed alley nearby.
"Yare yare…" Gintoki muttered, blood boiling in his veins despite the afflicted cold from the early winter season. The Joui War that ended not too long ago was not to their favour, despite their best efforts. In fact, it led to even more oppression by the Amanto that finally gained more control than just the capital. Being bullied by them nowadays is practically an everyday scenario, and definitely one that Gintoki did not stand for, no matter how laidback he may seem per normal.
Never let it be said that Gintoki doesn't stand up for the weak and helpless.
~.~.~
"Please, sir. You don't have to do this!" The teen sobbed while begging, clutching tightly at his leg even as he bowed low to the ground. "My father…"
"Dude… just get up. You're a man, aren't ya?" Gintoki muttered, pushing strength into his arms to drag the broken teen up. The young man blubbered while Gintoki sighed, ruffling his hand through his snow covered silver locks.
"Look, I'm doing this because I want to, not that anybody forced me into anything by the way." He practically sighed again, pushing the other slightly back before brushing the snow off the dirty old yukata he wore.
"I'll get your father back for you, so don't worry too much about it, okay?" Gintoki deadpanned, turning about his heel and proceeding to stroll into the magistrate court fully aware of the consequences.
~.~.~
"You want to arrest the old man, Amanto?" Gintoki drawled, fingering the bokken he also stole from a rundown dojo in the countryside that was safely tied to his belt.
Drawing his trusted road companion, Gintoki threw the wooden sword to the ground as casually as he could, drawling with all the courage he could muster despite the shaking in his knees. (Not that he would admit to anyone even under the pain of death, of course.)
"How 'bout you arrest the Shiroyasha instead?"
The entire court went into an uproar, soldiers practically clambering over each other in excitement even as frightened whispers resounded all around him. The sounds of metal being drawn soon drowned out the furious shouts of 'ARREST HIM!'
~.~.~
"Ha…ha…haaah" Gintoki breathed harshly into the night air, putting a hand on his belly. His injuries and state of starvation have finally taken a huge toll on him, making him too weak in the knees to stand any longer just as the snowstorm finally stopped.
Collapsing against a memorial stone in the graveyard may be his best idea yet, Gintoki mused, how ironically fitting a death for that killer in the Joui War known as the Shiroyasha. He was wondering when his time would come.
He smirked. Who knew that name people in the Kiheitai faction coined for him would spread that far and wide? Doing everything at his own pace was his specialty of course, making sure the old man and that kid managed to get away amidst the all-out brawl he got into right then and there.
Those broken ribs were totally worth it. Though it seriously made breathing a pain. Plus that bottomless hunger….
His vision blurred, stopping him from reminiscing any further.
Just then, footsteps crunched the freshly fallen snow, alerting him to the presence of another.
…
Finally deciding to speak up, even Gintoki surprised himself at how calm he sounded despite the situation. "Oi Gran,"
"Are those manju? Can I have some?"
"I'm starving to death here."
A strong female voice answered, and yet did not at the same time.
"These belong to my husband. Ask him."
He didn't hesitate, stuffing in as much of the sweet delicacy into his mouth as he could, hoping they would starve off that nearly-painful hunger just a little bit longer.
"What did my husband say?"
"Beats me. The dead don't talk."
"You're just asking for it. Don't blame me if you get cursed."
"The dead don't eat and they don't eat dango." Was his ever omniscient logic.
"So I made a one-sided promise."
Otose lifted an eyebrow in silence, waiting for the young man hiding behind her husband's grave to continue.
"I won't forget this debt."
"Your wife doesn't have that much longer to live, but I'll protect her in your stead."
Such was his promise, chained onto the warrior's soul.
And till this day, when the rumours of the Shiroyasha in the Joui War was just that – rumours, he still kept it.
Owari.