Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama
A/N: Please continue to bear with me as I rewrite this story. It is slow going and especially with my lack of time due to school.
The morning sky is colored a pale grey as the sun remains mostly hidden in the horizon. Only the barest hint of scarlet is visible. The air is crisp with the scent of winter as frost covers the ground. White and icy fern like patterns paint the dirt. The small fire they had set up the night before has long since died out. Despite the cold, the morning is peaceful. Suddenly, a threadbare blanket is thrown across the clearing as crimson eyes snap open and a small body startles awake. Ragged breathing echoes loudly. Even with the chill in the air, it is much too warm. The sound of a crow's cry echoes.
It is not the first time he finds himself startled from sleep.
Dark purple bruises hang from his eyes, a testament to his sleepless nights.
He can still feel the heat of the scorching flames and the cold metal against his throat. The sweet cloying scent of burning wood and the acrid smell of burning flesh will haunt him for as long as he lives (Years from now, when the war has long since ended, he will still close his eyes to steady his mind when looking at the burning flames. He will flinch when the embers fly and struggle not to cry out in fear). Despite the quiet morning he can still hear the screams of the children begging for help. Their young voices held so much fear and pain in them. As his body curls in on itself, and as his hands cover his ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise, he hears another voice. This one cuts him far deeper and much colder than any steel sword ever could.
"Protect everyone for me"
As he glances at the sleeping bodies next to him, Gintoki clenches his hands. They are at once too large and too small; a testament of a young body on the border between adolescence and childhood. They are both clean and covered in filth, but he knows that soon, when he glances at his hands, he will only see dripping crimson (And when the years have passed, and his body has grown to match his hands…he will weep as his hands, painted in crimson, holds a weeping sword).
Gintoki shivers as a cold breeze blows through the camp.
Winter has begun to settle, and it wouldn't be long before the ground is covered in snow.
As he blows a tired sigh, Gintoki rises from the ground and heads towards the firepit where a small pile of wood lies next to the dead embers. With just a few quick motions, Gintoki has a small fire crackling. When the smell of burning wood hits his nose, Gintoki suppresses a shudder and muffles his gags as he desperately swallows the bile that threatens to rise. In his mind's eye, he sees a roaring fire and hears screams of pain.
"Protect everyone for me"
"Protect everyone for me"
"Protect everyone for-"
A hand on his shoulder startles him from his thoughts, "Gintoki…"
A glance to his right reveals Katsura staring at him with a worried expression. A glance to his left reveals Takasugi staring at him with an impassive one, but underneath the cold expression was a hint of concern. Behind them were the surviving members of Shouka Sonjuku.(Later, when the war is behind him, but also still so very close, he will close his eyes and see grave markers in place of the faces he sees now)
Katsura opened his mouth, but closed it once again. He did this a few more times before taking a deep breath and voicing his thoughts, "What should we do? We aren't going to last much longer like this. We- "
A scoff and angry growl cuts Kastura off as Takasugi speaks up, "We can last however long we need to, we are Shoyou's students and if you can't make it then you are weak."
Some of the others shiver and flinch at the cold tone, but nonetheless nod in agreement.
They would survive. (They were so naïve back then, weren't they? When survival merely meant getting enough wood to keep warm and enough food to keep from starving.)
Gintoki kicks dirt onto the flames, killing the fire. He kicks and stomps on the ground a few more times to hide any traces of a fire and bundles up the remaining wood before slinging the bundle onto his shoulders. "Pack up, we're heading out."
They travel for a while, gathering any scraps of wood and food they can get their hands on. Sometimes they find it in the wild, sometimes some villagers take pity on them, and sometimes they resort to looting abandoned villages. When the supplies run too low or dry for several days, Gintoki wanders off by himself at night and comes back with some supplies. No one asks him where he gets them. They can't bring themselves to ask, not when they see him pale and shivering in the river as he desperately tries to wash his hand and mouth face. (Corpses have supplies on them. They have rations and weapons, maybe even a map…but sometimes it isn't enough…so sometimes he-)
A month passes before they find themselves taking shelter from a winter storm at a small village. The villagers are poor, but they take pity on the children and allow them to spend a couple nights at the abandoned shrine. A small amount of cloth and wood is given to them; nothing special, but enough to make the colder winter chill a bit more bearable. They are even given some rice, but the meagre amount is hardly enough.
Gintoki decides to hungry.
It is nothing new. He has done it before and he could do it again. Gintoki repeats the thought as he tries to ignore the pain of hunger in his stomach.
When night falls, and the winter storm has slowed into a heavy snowfall, Gintoki stares at the glowing moon and wonders if Shoyou can see the same moon from his cell or if the bakufu has him in a place where no light can reach. It is a disheartening thought, but much better than the alternative.
Sensei…are we staring at the same moon right now? Can my feelings reach you? If so, I want you to know that I lo-
The muffled sound of footsteps breaks him from his thoughts as his crimson eye sharpen. They are narrowed in suspicion as his thoughts begin to race. The shrine is supposed to be abandoned and everyone is already inside and asleep. His fingers linger on his sheath, ready to draw his bade at a moment's notice. The snow begins to pick up once again.
A male voice speaks up and questions the other figures, "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, now hurry before they hear us. The Amanto will pay a great sum for these children, like they did with the others. I told you, killing all the villagers and selling the children would make us rich. The Amanto's camp is near here, we just need to give them the children and then we will never have to see another brat again."
Rage burns in Gintoki's heart as hears the men whisper amongst themselves. He will not allow these men to leave tonight. At least not alive. From his position, he can see that there is a total of seven men. They are all armed, but the men are clearly just men with swords. They do not know how to wield one correctly. It would be easy to kill them (So, so easy…one, two…as easy as breathing. He has killed far more experienced men). His heart begins to pound as his eyes glow with an intense fury and protectiveness (It is this look that makes his eyes glow a deadly crimson, this look that stares his enemies down, and this look that earns him the moniker-).
Shoyou entrusted the safety of their comrades to him. He will not fail a second time.
Then men's eyes are alight with greed. Greed for money and survival.
Gintoki does not care.
These men are not his precious comrades, he does not love these men. Their lives do not matter to him. Only the lives that are sleeping in the temple behind him matter. Everyone else can go to hell. He does not care much for people, but the people he does care for, he will protect with his life. (This testament will hold true, even years later. Even as he smiles and laughs, even as he jokes with those around him…there will also be a deadness to his eyes and a hollowness to laughs when he is not smiling and laughing with those he has claimed as his.)
A soft clink sounds as he gets ready to fully unsheathe his blade.
The men have stopped moving; they have noticed that something is wrong. Their faces begin to show nervousness as they begin to draw their swords.
It is too late.
A flash of silver is the first thing the man in front sees before his head is detached from his body. Eyes blink in confusion before focusing on the blood covered silver child standing above a headless body. The head realizes it is his body and eyes widen in shock before growing dull. The other men don't have time to scream before their throats are slashed. A few more heads tumble to the ground.
The wind picks up speed as the snow begins to fall heavily.
It was surprisingly easy to kill again…
Gintoki painstakingly drags the bodies and heads into the deeper parts of the forest. The scavengers would feast tonight. He doesn't worry about the blood; the snow has already covered most of it by the time he has finished dragging the last body. As he goes to join his friends once again the words of the now dead men echo…
"…killing all the villagers and selling the children"
He debates for a moment before making an annoyed sound. Even if these children do not hold a place in his heart (When he is staring down at yet another grave, Gintoki turns away to hide the devastation in his eyes), he decides to help them…because Shoyou would help them and Gintoki wants to be like Shoyou.
It is ridiculously easy to find the Amanto's hideaway. There are only five Amanto, but they are large and foreign to him. (It won't be long before this strangeness and hesitance will seem like a distant memory). The Amanto speak in hushed whispers as they converse with one another. Gintoki could barely make out the words but the words he did catch seem important.
Rebel faction
Joui
Overthrow bakufu
Prisoners held by bakufu
Possible rescue attempt
Gintoki waits; he bides his time. It isn't long before the Amanto fall asleep. He waits a few more moments before their breathing evens out. Now is the time to strike.
The Amanto have fallen asleep near the children. There are roughly ten children all stuck in a crude bamboo cage. It is more children then he anticipated. He hesitates for a moment before steeling his nerves. One of the children notice him. A young girl, probably no older than seven. She is on the verge of tears as she huddles near an older female. He makes a small motion with his hand and the child nods before going silent. He then makes another motion with his hands and the child seems to understand. She tugs on the sleeve of the older female and makes a small gesture towards Gintoki's location. Gintoki another motion once more and motions for her to show the others. She nods. Slowly all the children close their eyes and clamp their ears tightly with their hands.
As he lifts his blade up, the silver of the metal gleams in the moonlight for a moment before red decorates the area around him. The Amanto are dead…they never opened nor will ever open their eyes again…
As Gintoki opens the cage doors and helps the children out, the children stoicly ignore the dead bodies.
The sun is starting to rise by the time he and the children make it to the shrine.
The children want to come with them. They do not want to return to a village filled with strangers. The children and his friends turn to Gintoki for the decision (Always…always…there are eyes turned towards him…as if he could save them…as if he could-).
He sees the tired look in his friends' eyes and the haunted look in the children's eyes and-
By the time the sun has fully risen in the morning sky, the now larger group of children are travelling down the road with their meager possessions in small bags.
The members of Shouka Sonjuku never learned about the dead bodies (And years later, when old comrades sit and share stories, this one story will still have never been told).
At the end of the month, they are barely surviving off scraps and wild plants. It will only be a matter of time before they die of hunger and exposure.
"What do we do Gintoki?"
Katsura and Takasugi ask him once again
The words of the Amanto echo in his head. For the first time in a long time hope flutters in his heart. He glances at the moon once again. It cements his decision.
With his crimson eyes glowing Gintoki turns to both Takasugi and Katsura and answers, "I want to go to war"
Katsura explodes, "Are you insane?! You are a child! Children do not belong in a war!"
Before he can stop himself Gintoki also responds with as much rage, "Children also don't belong in hell, but what do you see?! Children die every day because of those Amanto! There is hardly enough food to survive for a day! The crows are too fat to fly because they have gorged themselves on dead bodies! Children don't belong in hell but we are living it right now! I would rather war than hell!"
Katsura's fist hits Gintoki on the cheek. It doesn't hurt.
Katsura's face is red from his outburst but Gintoki can see the genuine fear and concern in his friend's eyes. Katsura is afraid of loving someone else close to him. Takasugi says nothing but Gintoki can see that Takasugi has already made his decision. (Always so ready to fight. Always so ready to prove himself…)
"I want to rescue sensei…I overheard the amanto saying that the Joui were planning to rescue prisoners of the bakufu soon. If we join with them, then maybe we can get sensei back!"
Katsura's eyes change, as if he were waiting to hear those words. They change from fear into determination. Takasugi makes a small sound of agreement but Gintoki can tell that Takasugi has begun to hope.
They nod at him…
He calls for a meeting.
The rest of the group look at him expectantly.
"The Amanto and Bakufu took something from each of us…"
"A brother"
A few of the children tear up as they remember their brothers being dragged off to prison camps or setting off to war. Either way they never came home. Their brothers never came home to protect them. Shouka Sonjuku go silent and pale. They remember seeing the ashes of their beloved building and not finding a body to bury. The smell of burnt flesh still lingered long after the fire finished burning.
"A friend"
Sniffles began to sound throughout the group as they remember their friends lying so still in the coffin in the barren ground. The sickly-sweet smell of flowers never seemed to leave. Shouka Sonjuku remembers the laughter of their friends as they turn into shrieks of pain and fear.
"A sensei"
The members of Shouka Sonjuku straighten. Their eyes go dark as they remember that night.
…a father
Gintoki stands up and grips his sword as he begins to speak once again, "The Amanto came to our planet, our land, and took everything from us! They took our land, our crops, our sword, our identity, our trust in one another! They turned fathers against sons, mothers against daughters, friends against friends…they turned our own government against its people! We can no longer trust the government to protect us, we can only protect each other. We will fight and take back what is ours!"
Gintoki's sword gleams and the cries of his friends echo…
Wait for us sensei…we are coming to rescue you…