the optimist

It occurs to him that he hasn't told Mutsu much about his past.

It's not that he finds it hard to talk about –well, as much as one can find not-hard to talk about anything with Mutsu– it's just that it has never come up and Sakamoto is not particularly obsessed with days gone by.

This is about the size of what Mutsu knows:

a) He was involved in the war against the Amanto years ago.
b) He got out before things turned really bad.
c) His friends lost the war.

(the details of it, the actual blood and pain and ash and ruins of the war she knows nothing about it, or the day Sakamoto felt it was too much, felt the latest casualty was a dead comrade too many, that the new scars on a dear friend's body were no longer beautiful or heroic, decided he couldn't stomach any more of that and he called his own cowardice "vision" or "ambition" or "perspective" – he never really regretted his decision but he is aware of the uglier implications of his reasons, and the minutae reality of it all, not the songs of bravery or the campfire stories but the everyday misery of soldiers losing a hopeless fight, all that he hopes Mutsu never has to find out for herself)

And now she knows about Kin-Gintoki– whose name she already knew but now there was a face and a voice to go with that, and a willingness to help out when his old friend found himself in trouble. Sakamoto likes to think that Mutsu is secretly very grateful to Gintoki for having, ultimately, saved his life.

Sakamoto likes to think a lot of things.

`So, what did you think of my old friend?´ He enters Mutsu's cabin with his hands in his pockets, not waiting for permission or anything so pedestrian.

Seeing Mutsu outside her usual chosen uniform wrong-foots him for a moment and he realizes they've had so much work lately –which is a good thing– and their lives have been so frantic –Gintoki incident notwithstanding– and has been missing in action so often lately –he promises he'd have to fix that– that Sakamoto realizes it's been a while since he's seen his second in command like this, at home in her quarters, her hair comfortably tied up with a white piece of string like an afterthought, her face clear and clean and her shoulders relaxed, no tension, no waiting for the upcoming threat or her boss' latest fluke.

`That was dangerous,´ is her reply.

`Aw, were you worried about me? You didn't look worried but I know something-waters run deep or something like that. What were the waters that run deep?´ He scratched the back of his head, suddenly scrapping against fresh scars of dog-teeth, ouch. `I want to get a pet just like Gintoki's, that was so cute.´

`It was very nice of him to save your sorry ass.´

`We'll send him a basket for Christmas. Or a kitty, like the one we sent Zura.´

`That wasn't a kitty.´

`Ha ha ha ha wasn't it?´

Mutsu rolls her eyes.

He grabs the door; his stomach is not bothering him that much today – he must be getting used to this ship.

Mutsu turns her back; he has caught her in the middle of making tea. She puts the kettle on the fire and Sakamoto's his cue to shut up.

People think he can't be quiet but he can. At times like this. Mutsu enjoys a long break of drinking tea with maddening slowness and Sakamoto enjoys watching her. She has warned him that she'll kill him if he perturbs her moment of relax and he believes her, not just kill him but skin him alive, she has explained this to him with extremely graphic detail that made him feel queasy. Only on special occasions is he allowed to pour himself a cup and share the tea with her. There has never been any of those special occasions just yet but Sakamoto is an optimist.

"You always had a big mouth.

Look at me...

I live my life on my own terms."

...

Gintoki...

Watching Mutsu drink her tea it becomes obvious how unreconcilable the two halves of his life were. Seeing Gintoki again and realizing how much he had changed, and also how he hadn't changed at all at the same time, Sakamoto can't help but wonder if the same is true for him. Is he still the same naïve kid that run away from the fight leaving his comrades to endure a doomed war? Unlike Gintoki, Takasugi and Zura he has been left relatively unscathed. Because of their strength Sakamoto was able to live (to leave) without worries. And maybe now it's time for him to worry about his friends. Maybe he feels guilty – though he doesn't know his own heart that well. Trade and money and new, strange planets and new, wonderful spaceships occupy his days now. He looks at the woman in front of him – now without her hat and her guns an entirely different person, not the same woman that usually runs the Kaientai by herself and whose cool-headed strength could strike fear into the hearts of warriors – and he feels like the war was much longer ago than it actually was.

`What is on your mind? Why are you scratching your nuts?´ Mutsu asks, her tone sharply annoyed at having to break her own no-speaking rule.

She didn't have to be rude but oh well, Sakamoto has no idea he'd been fidgeting, shifting in his seat – it's a really uncomfortable position he is trying to copy from Mutsu's – and basically thinking-out-loud. Despite the demure the question shows a genuine interest and that he finds touching. It's not like he is able to hide whenever something is bothering him so it doesn't take a lot of insight on Mutsu's part to guess he is still shaken by the encounter with his old friend but Sakamoto chooses to believe that she knows him well enough that she'd pick up some signal even if he were less transparent. It's those little things he has faith in despite having no proof at all.

`A ha ha ha ha, sorry. It's just that I was thinking... I haven't talked to you much about the war.´

Mutsu shrugs, a gesture somewhere between So what? and Frankly, I don't care. Sakamoto tries not to pout.

`See, once upon a time I wasn't as cool a guy as you see me now.´

`Imagine that,´ she comments flatly.

Sakamoto laughs heartily, definitely messing up the whole Quiet Tea Time mood here. Mutsu looks down and he thinks he sees the shadow of a smile there but he must be imagining it. Surely it can't be.

But see, Sakamoto is an optimist.