Dear Authoress of this Gintama wannabe rip-off fan fiction,
What the hell are you doing?! You're totally ruining Gin-chan's totally cool personality! In the first Lesson, you made him sound like a total wimp! And what's up with your characterization of the other characters? It is so OOC. You're giving Gintama and the God of Comedy Hideaki Sorachi-san a bad name. If you don't wish to be hurt, I suggest you stop this stupid fan fiction at once.
Sincerely,
Gintoki's Number One Fan/Wife
P.S. Gin-chan! I heart you!
--
Ari In~
Dear Gintoki's Number One Fan/Wife,
Please ignore the hellish introduction aka First Lesson to this fan fiction. I was young. I was naïve. I was very foolish like a little kid who'd prefer that expensive remote control kid-sized car displayed in the toy store window over his mother's love—who offered a nice shiny red ball instead because the other toy was too expensive.
In the future, I will try my best to make this story as canon as possible.
Sincerely,
EATnRunBandit
P.S. I think you would get hurt if you strut around claiming yourself to be Sakata Gintoki's wife. You might be blitzed by crazed Gintoki fans such as yourself.
--
{LESSON 2}
Ghosts aren't the only ones you see when you see dead people.
The footsteps creaked on the wooden floor—back and forth, back and forth.
Creak, creak, creak.
Squeak, squeak, squeak.
And one certain couch potato reading Jump, cracked with increasing annoyance. "Shut up, Shinpachi!" Gintoki yelled out. "Are you trying to dig a ditch with your feet, huh?!"
"That's right, aru," said the pink haired girl who squatted herself in front of the television. "The TV's not coming out because of you, so if you keep on walking like that, I'll beat you up."
Shinpachi pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and furrowed his eyebrows. "Stop lying around like old men!" he shouted. "Aren't you the least bit worried that we didn't get customers all day?!"
The Yorozuya boss scratched the scalp of his permed silver hair and yawned. "Don't fret your underwear in a bunch. It's not like we get customers everyday. One's bound to show up sooner or later."
"Gin-chan, I don't think Shinpachi even wears underwear," Kagura snickered.
"I do so!" And more creaking ensued; the squeaking noises decreasing further away from the two.
Gintoki sat up on the couch with a lazy groan. "Pattsan, where are you going?"
"Down to Otose-san's snack bar to borrow some cleaning supplies. Lately this place has been a dump and someone has to clean it you know."
"Ah, that's perfect timing," the man replied. "It seems someone just took a big dump over there," he said with his finger pointing at a corner.
All three stared on as Sadaharu barked in relief.
Red veins welled up the bespectacled teen's eyes. "Sadaharu! Not over there!" He pinched his nose. "It stinks!" He turned towards the Yato girl. "Kagura-chan! He's your responsibility! Didn't you tell him to do his business outside?!"
"It's not Sadaharu's fault," she retorted back, her nose also pinched. "He wouldn't have done the Number Two inside if you took him out for his walk."
"Do you think I'm some kind of maid?!"
The samurai covered his face with his sleeve while waving the other arm in the air. "Alright, just stop fighting already. If someone doesn't clean it up soon, the office is going to stink like the men's public bathroom. It'll take forever to air out."
"Exactly," agreed Kagura. "Clean it up, Useless Shinpachi."
"He's your dog you know!"
She shrugged. "But Sadaharu wants you to clean it up."
The angry teen threw his hands in the air. "How do you know that?! Did Sadaharu tell you that?! Can you even speak dog?!"
The sound of liquid splashing against a surface echoed through Shinpachi's ears.
"No! Sadaharu! Number One and Number Two?!"
"Bark!"
Shinpachi couldn't stand this anymore. He had such lazy slash eccentric co-workers who wouldn't clean up their own mess and a dog who did his business wherever he pleased. Did he always have to do the work himself?
Gintoki stood up. "There's no helping it, I'll come along with you Shinpachi."
The glasses looked up at the tall man. "Gin-san…" he said in awe.
The man quickened his pace towards the front door. "This place stinks like shit. I think I'm going to puke." He created gagging noises from his throat as he swiftly slid open the door. "Ah," he said in relief, "fresh air at last!"
The four eyes kicked the man in the back of his curly head. "Give back my three seconds of respect, you moron!"
With a sudden gasp, Gintoki lost his balance and fell forward to the ground flat on his face. "What's your damn problem?!" he yelled out as he rubbed his bruised forehead. "Is this how you treat your almighty boss? If I were any other boss, you'd be fired by now." He stared at Shinpachi, who had the nerve not to answer him back. "Oi, Shinpachi. Hello? Anyone home in that little noggin of yours? Moshi moshi~"
Shinpachi looked down at the terrace flooring, looking very…dead.
"I was kidding. I would never fire you," Gintoki clarified with an awkward smile slash worried frown. "Don't worry. The Yorozuya wouldn't be the Yorozuya without a four eyes."
"…"
"Oi, Pattsan, what's wrong?" He looked at the boy's eyes. It seemed blank and without life. "You've got to be kidding me. You're playing a joke, right?" he said. "You've looked like you've seen a ghost," he then stuttered. "What? You're going to say…'I see dead people' now? Huh, are you? Haha. Very funny. If you're trying to scare me, it's not working," he said unconvincingly. Feeling uncomfortable, Gintoki shifted his body and sat up.
Hm…that's funny. He never remembered the terrace being this plushy before. Did that old hag renovate the flooring?
He straightened his elbow and laid his hand on the flooring, supporting his stressed body on it.
Hm…he never knew flooring could feel this hairy. Was it some kind of new design? Some people had no taste.
Gintoki tilted down to look at this new bizarre tiling, but felt his blood froze, for the growing suspicions growing like sprouts inside his brain were now unable to be suppressed by his conscious any longer. He knew what it was. Screw the hairy tiling. There was no such thing as that; there never was.
What he was sitting on was not the terrace tiles, but a body—his hand putting pressure into a head. A person's head. An old person's white head?
His brown eyes narrowed into slits as he gazed at the redness splotched all over his palm.
Huh? Red? Red? Red?! What is this?
He awkwardly smiled.
It must be paint. Or maybe cranberry juice. Yeah, yeah…that must be it.
Shinpachi finally stuttered. "C-C-Cranberry juice…right?"
"R-Right. Cranberry juice. Or paint," the other suggested.
"Yup. It could be paint too."
"…" "…"
The samurai slowly got off the body and on his feet, edging away from the curious object. Grimacing, he nudged the body with the edge of his boot. Limp-like, the body turned over and slumped with a hollow sound echoing after.
Shinpachi gulped.
Gintoki gulped.
White eyeballs with a face covered in a strange red substance stared back at them.
D-D-D-Dead person…
Dead person.
"We see a dead person!"
--
To the readers who thought that the first letter in the beginning of the chapter was real,
I shall bonk you on the head with a Justaway.
Bonk.
Thus leading to a request of requests. If there is anyone at all that would like to give me a question, ask away in my PM (Please PM, nothing else. Email is fine too) and I shall answer them one by one per chapter. (The above letter was just an example) Maybe two if it doesn't take up space. Please make them relevant questions to the story. Suggestions are also open.
If you direct it to one of the characters, that is fine also. Breaking the third wall is one of Gintama's many charms.
(By the way, I promise a long chapter next time and a speedier update. By the Third Lesson, the "The Fifth Yorozuya member Arc" will be finished and other DGM characters will be introduced. If it is not 7,000 words or over, I shall commit seppuku.)
SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU. SEPPUKU.
Ari Out~