Disclaimer: Characters were used for my amusement.
Five things Shinpachi wanted (Part 1). . .
1. Shinpachi wanted the real reason he followed Gintoki. Really, who gets tired of the same old sweet toothed, silver-haired samurai? No one.
"Oi, Gin-san, listen to me! We're really out of money. We can't even afford a single box of that strawberry milk of yours!"
But Gintoki remained glued to the sofa, silently watching another drama rerun.
"GIN-SAN!" Shinpachi bellowed.
Gintoki turned his head and looked at Shinpachi with his usual half-awake eyes. "What?"
"We should get a job before we start starving!"
"But getting a job is a pain! My wounds aren't even fully healed yet." He tapped his bandaged forehead until it began bleeding again to emphasize his point. "See?"
"OI, OI! Don't do that you idiot!" He shrilled again when he saw the blood soaking through the bandages. Shinpachi panicked and ran for the stock room to look for the first aid kit. When he came back, Gintoki had already removed the stained bandages, letting the blood flow down his face like it always did whenever Sadaharu bit his head.
You idiot.
"Mah mah. It looks like I still can't work with these wounds stinging."
"YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE," Shinpachi said as he ran to Gintoki's side. He wiped the blood away with a piece of clean wet cloth. Gintoki hissed and groaned whenever Shinpachi went near the stinging wound.
"Shut up and stay still." Shinpachi ordered. The older samurai chuckled a bit under his breath and closed his eyes. He studied the mass of silvery hair in front of him. Gin's locks stuck up to differentdirections, which indicated that he never really brushed his said it was his natural perm. Shinpachi mused. Despite its haphazard nature, Gintoki's hair felt soft and smooth under Shipachi's sensitive hands. Plus, his hair always smelled like strawberry shampoo. Always.
"Shinpachi? Hello? Main character slowly dying of blood loss here." Gintoki waved a hand in front of Shinpachi. It was then that Shinpachi noticed he'd been ogling at his older friend for a while. He blushed and hid behind the sofa until the blood from his cheeks decided to take a break.
He was in the middle of wrapping Gin's head with bandages when someone knocked on the door. "Hello? Somebody?"
It sounded like a kid.
"A-ano. Sorry, but we are not available now." Shinpachi said to the door.
"O-okay, sorry for the disturbance."
Gintoki reached up and held Shinpachi's hand. He took the bandages from him and said, "I'll take care of myself. You go see who it is."
Shinpachi nodded and ran for the door.
It really was a kid. A boy about 8 years-old with a teary face stood in front of Shinpachi.
"U-um, what's wrong?"
"My…my.." the boy stuttered.
"Oi, you have a job for us?" Suddenly, Gintoki was beside Shinpachi. He blushed and almost stepped away from the samurai.
"Y-yes.."
"Then what is it?"
"M-my father has gone missing…It's been 4 days since I last saw him. Please find him for me!" he said then held up a picture of his dad for Shinpachi and Gintoki to see.
Gintoki stared at the boy for a long minute before letting out a huge yawn and scratching his sides. "'Guess I have no choice."
"But Gin-san, your wounds-" Shinpachi said.
"I'll be fine. It's good to exercise once in a while." Gintoki turned to the sobbing boy. "You have money to pay us?"
"N-no.."
Gintoki groaned. "Shinpachi, stay here and accompany our costumer for a while. And when Kagura gets home, tell her I'll be bringing steak tonight." Then he turned his back on them.
Shinpachi knew he couldn't sway Gintoki from his sudden decisions. He simply sighed as he watched Gintoki walk away.
That's right. Shinpachi was the silver soul buried within this idiot. I've always wanted to. . .
2. Shinpachi wanted to turn back. He hated it. He hated every second of it. He hated running away. Not from certain bandits whom ("who") they have pissed off while innocently doing their job but running away from the guy whom ("who") he cared for the most.
Shinpachi hated the moment when Gintoki had gently pushed him back and let himself advance in front. He hated how the silver-haired samurai would look at him with lazy eyes filled with a mix of hopelessness and pure determination and resolve.
Gintoki would grin at him sheepishly, sending a clear, emphatic message that said: "If I don't survive this shit, take good care of my Jump Magazines." Or if Shinpachi was mistaken: "You're buying me 100 boxes of strawberry milk if I come home in one piece."
Shinpachi resented Gintoki's back. Whether it'd be wounded, sweaty, or splattered with the blood of the luckiest guy of the day.
"Oi, Shinpachi, There's no need to worry," said Kagura, running along him. Though what she said was somewhat convincing, it still wasn't comforting enough when she said it with eyes overflowing with tears. "I'll kill Gin-chan if he doesn't come home-aru."
Shinpachi had the urge to respond. "There won't be any Gin-chan to kill if Gin-chan doesn't come back."But seeing the way Kagura sobbed while struggling to keep a brave face on, he swallowed the words down bitterly and guiltily. It was hard. Gulping down the resentment and grief and letting it swirl inside him was sickening.
He hated it. He hated the goons that started the mess. He hated Kagura for agreeing to Gintoki's decision to single-handedly fight a horde of Amantos like he was happy to remember the good ol' days. He hated Gintoki for making them run away. He hated himself for being weak.
He never wanted to see Gintoki in his demonic form once again. It hurt Shinpachi because he knew Gintoki didn't want. . .