I Stand Atop the Heavens, a Gintama fan fiction
I own neither Hideaki Sorachi's Gintama or the idea that this story is based on, which belongs to Tite Kubo, the author of Bleach. These two are combined for parody purpose only.
A boy with smooth black hair cut so his ears showed was giggling maniacally. His glasses reflected the scene in front of him: a pink-haired girl with pale white skin impaled on his sword. She looked up at him, eyes slowly closing, the eyelids flickering as if trying to hold up an unbearable weight. There was blood on her red Chinese gown.
"Shinpachi, why…?" she moaned, a hiss of hair barely vibrating her vocal chords. The boy smirked.
"I'm sorry, Kagura, but you just couldn't see me for what I really was. You and Gin looked down on me all the time, the straight man who can't do anything for himself, the punching bag who gets hit when you two get frustrated. Oh, I'm so sick of it. Finally, I get to reveal who I really am and watch you two regret everything you ever did to make me suffer." Shinpachi flicked his sword in a bored way, sending Kagura's corpse onto the floor. He looked up pensively, head at an insane sort of angle. Now all he had to do was take care of Gin.
Presently, the object of Shinpachi's hatred entered the room. He was scratching his white, wavy hair absently with a hand that had just come out of his nose and was still crusted with snot. He was carrying a bag of food, in which was most likely his strawberry milk, which he was constantly forcing down Shinpachi's throat. Gin looked astonished, his dead fish eyes widening and taking on life, when he saw the blood covering the table and the walls, and finally Kagura. Shinpachi fixed a malevolent glare on Gin.
"What the hell is going on?" Gin yelped, his arm instinctively going to the wooden sword in his belt. He drew it with a quick motion, charging simultaneously and sweeping the blade down at Shinpachi's shoulder. The blow would no doubt have crushed his collarbone if it had landed. With a speed Gin had never witnessed from his bumbling apprentice, Shinpachi had dodged the cut and dragged his blade up, cutting the wooden sword at an angle. Gin held the hilt in shock, the shock of losing his beloved, invincible blade.
"You're not Shinpachi," Gin declared as he moved aside, causing Shinpachi's killing blow to his neck to miss completely. Shinpachi smirked.
"Thank you, captain obvious. I was never who you thought I was. Shinpachi the fool was just an act. Today," cutting through Gin with a motion that Gin, despite his years of combat experience and battle reflexes born of a thousand fights, could not avoid in time. He was cut from collarbone to abdomen, a wound two inches deep and certainly fatal.
Shinpachi flicked his sword so that the blood flew off, and sheathed it casually. He strode out of the odd jobs office, his home for two years, and walked the streets of Edo bound for his own home. He passed women in kimonos, sellers of random bits of meat they hoped to market as edible, and above all many, many aliens, green slimy, multiheaded, almost any variation possible. How he loathed them all, the otherworlders that contaminated his glorious nation of Japan.
He entered his home through the sliding door. His sister looked up. "Shin, why are you covered in blood?" A moment later, her head, with its ponytailed brown hair and two locks up in front, was sailing to the other side of the room. Shinpachi left, having taken his revenge upon the person who had abused him countless times, beaten him up for the fun of it and forced him to work like a slave for days on end. Outside in the street, people wondered at this boy, covered in blood, but he merely ignored them and continued on his way.
He was joined by a monster, a man with a hideous, ghoulish face, wild hair, and two horns. A flower grew incongruously out of his head, and he wore a florist's apron. In his hand he held a meat cleaver. "Shinpachi-sama, is it time to rid the world of those who would harm others?" he growled, a voice like gravel being pulled along asphalt in the wind. Shinpachi nodded, smiling.
"Good to see you, Hedoro." Now another person joined them, a man with flyaway black hair and sunglasses.
"Hiya, Shinpachi. I've got the ship all ready for you," he intoned in a whiny, nasal voice.
"Good, Sakamoto, very good." Shinpachi seemed pleased with the two of them. The group approached a spaceport, made of fiberglass and concrete, from which ships of all sizes took to the heavens. They made for one, a sleek black vessel with gun turrets poking out. As they boarded, the crew bowed reverentially.
As the gangplank rose, a group of people wielding swords and wearing European style black coats ran towards it, intent on stopping its takeoff. They were the Shinsengumi, the armed police of Edo, ready to destroy all threats to the peace. They were also friends, perhaps more grudging acquaintances, of Gin's. Having found him dead, they were infuriated and ready to kill the perpetrator.
Hijikata, vice-chief of the Shinsengumi, pulled out his cigarette, his normally cold and indifferent eyes wide and raging, and ordered his men to shoot. Okita, a young brown-haired man, glared up helplessly as he mourned the loss of Kagura, on whom he had something of crush and most certainly an intense rivalry.
Shinpachi nodded to Sakamoto, who flicked a switch. Shinpachi's face was now on every computer and television screen in Edo. Simultaneously, Hedoro pulled a lever, shooting missiles randomly down into Edo. Shinpachi spoke.
"Attention, people of Edo. I am Shimura Shinpachi. Who was responsible for the carnage of today, you may ask? Well, that was I. But don't think yourselves to be so high and mighty. Heaven was never filled by anyone, not the aliens, not you, not even God. But now, the unbearable vacancy of heaven's throne is at an end. From now on, I will stand atop the heavens."
And so, the main villain was revealed, and the plot severely compromised.