This chapter shall contain a touching, little father-son moment/reunion in ze end.

Ookami: You made me look gay there!

Oh? Ya still alive? I thought my bazooka blasted ya to bits...

Ookami: Oi! Don't ignore me!

Oi! Don't disrespect me! I am your Creator! Your Kami-sama!

Ookami: Yeah, right...

Ya know, I can add a part in ze later chapters where ya'll either get killed or tortured painfully and slowly, then killed. I am a sadistic Kami-sama, so I might consider ze latter...

Ookami: So sorry, Kami-sama! I shalt never disrespecteth thou ever again! I promiseth!

Just messin' with ya, kid. Don't take it seriously. But get rid of that Old English style of speaking. In the Land of Silver Balls where Edo is in its futuristic state, there is no need of that style.

Now oneth with ze story!

GAH! NOW I'M ZE ONE SPEAKING LIKE THIS! MEDIC! WHERE'S A MEDIC WHEN YA NEED ONE?

Me no own Gintama. Sorachi-sama does.

Me own ze plot, Gintamashiino Ookami, Aosora Haruhana and other OCs, including every main characters' children. Sorachi-sama doesn't.

This fanfic is dedicated to ze late TheBlueWolf888 who passed away last March 25 because of leukemia. I salute cha, Bluewolf!


Silver And Blue

By DemonIncarnate - Ahahaha

Lesson Two

Sometimes Reality Can Be Too Good To Be True And That's When People Turn To Idealism

Ookami entered the apartment. It was dusty inside and there were cobwebs almost anywhere. The hole in the roof left a large spotlight of afternoon sun by the interior's right. There were no furniture pieces, save for the desk and the office chair behind it further into the apartment and above the desk hung an old signboard with something written on it.

"'Yoruzuya Gin-Chan'?" the teen read.

"Gintoki used to be a freelancer, along with two other brats," Otose explained as she came to his side. "What has that bastard gotten himself into? How old are you, kid?"

"Seventeen."

"Then that must mean…let me see…eighteen? The Permhead was just eighteen when he became a father? Kami-sama help us!"

Ookami approached the office chair, dusted it a bit then sat down with his bundle on the floor beside the chair. He found it quite comfortable and after a few playful spins, he placed his feet on top of the desk and folded his arms behind his head.

"You resemble your ne'er-do-well father in that position," Otose griped, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"Can you tell me more about him? My father?" Ookami asked and the old lady nodded.

"As I had told you just now, twelve years ago, before becoming the Kabuki no Tennou, Sakata Gintoki used to do all kinds of odd jobs for a living. His two assistants were Shimura Shinpachi and Kagura and together they formed the Yoruzuya, which is known today as the Edo no Sanhashira with the brats being the Shinsengumi no Hontaichou and the Yatojinshu no Hime respectively.

"Gintoki is a lazy slob with the brain of a child and hair like a mop's head. His hobbies are eating sweets, drinking strawberry milk, picking his nose even in public and reading Shounen Jump, a brand of kids' comics. He also likes to gamble and spends his money on pachinko, all though he knows he has bad luck with gambling. He doesn't pay the rent on the designated dates and I almost had him killed several times because of that."

"Is everything about him really that negative? It won't give me a positive view on him, you know."

"I'm not finished yet, you wench! Of course he also has some good personalities. But I see his bad ones most of the time.

"He knows his swordfighting well and because of that, he was able to bring down enemies more powerful than him. And it didn't matter if he was injured or not. As long he had something to live for, something to protect, he would keep on fighting, even if it meant losing his own life. No one has the power to extinguish the flame in his soul."

"Wow. So deep."

"If you're just going to make fun of it then shut up!"

"No, that's not what I meant. You remind me of my Mom. She could be a real grouch and a nagger sometimes, but all in all, she cared about the people in her life. She made me feel so damn special to her and I'd go wherever she'd go."

"Mothers and their children are always like that. You are a good child, I could sense it. Your mother would be very proud and love you so much."

"I know and I love her more than she loves me. Sadly, she died a year ago because of a disease."

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry for that."

There was a pause. Otose took this opportunity to study the young man. Ookami did resemble Gintoki a lot, now that she noticed it, except for his blue hair and eyes and his visible fang. And he does seem nicer and more good-natured than the silver-permed. He must've inherited it from his late, half-Inusei mother.

"Your mother, what is she like?" Otose inquired.

Ookami smiled but before he had the chance to reply, the door slid open.

"Oi, old hag! Fix me a few bottles of booze! I feel like relaxing today," a masculine voice said in a languid tone.

"Don't order me around just like that," Otose hissed, "and you should be ashamed. You call yourself the Kabuki no Tennou and you act like that?"

Ookami felt a jolt run throughout his body. The Kabuki no Tennou is already here? His father?

… … …

I entered the apartment to find the old hag standing by my desk and there was this kid sitting on my chair with his feet on my desk. How dare he sit on my seat!

But I then noticed his appearance. He had blue hair and eyes and a snaggletooth that reminded me of her…Haruhana…

"Oi, kid! Get off my seat!" I ordered him.

"You are so rude, Gintoki," Otose sighed and shook her head, "you may be a father, but you are no commander of your child."

Wait, what did the hag say?

"What are you talking about?" I questioned with a yawn.

Otose frowned.

"Isn't it obvious? That brat hogging your seat is your brat!"

I looked at her then at the boy then back at her and to the boy again. It just can't be! Unless…the thing I did with Haruhana…oh shit.

THUD!

… … …

"Are you feeling better, Gintoki?" someone asked.

It was a girl of seventeen in a sky blue, white wisp-patterned kimono. She had long, electric blue hair and eyes of the same color. Both of her canines stuck out of her mouth slightly and on either side of her head was a blue dog ear.

"Mmm…yeah, a whole lot," eighteen-year-old Sakata Gintoki replied with a smile and handed her his empty bowl. "Thanks for the soup. It really helped. I think I can lift a cow."

The girl giggled and wagged her furry, blue tail happily.

"Well, I should get going," she informed and turned to leave.

"Haruhana, wait!" Gintoki cried as he grabbed her wrist.

Electric blue orbs met deep crimson ones as Haruhana turned back to him.

"I have something to confess," the young man said, his head bent down to hide his reddening face. "I…I…"

"No need to say it, Gin," Haruhana stated softly, "I…know you love me…and that…I love you, too."

Gintoki looked up in time to receive a quick peck on his lips. The girl turned away as her whole face flushed a bright scarlet. Gintoki smiled again, cupped her face with his hands gently yet quickly and pressed his lips into hers. Haruhana dropped the bowl, surprised by his sudden action but then relaxed and closed her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands found their place on her hips. After a few more seconds, they broke away and looked into each other's eyes, forehead against forehead.

"I love you, Sakata Gintoki."

"And I love you, too, Aosora Haruhana."

… … …

Gintoki woke up with a jolt, panting and sweating heavily. He then sighed and ran his fingers through his now longer silver hair.

Dammit. I've got no time for flashbacks, he thought as he heaved another sigh.

He got off his futon, stood up and stretched out his arms. After securing an obi around his waist and fixing his light grey hakama pants, he put on the white haori lying folded next to his futon and slipped his hands into black fingerless gauntlets. He was then looking for his bokutou when the door slid open.

"Oh, you're awake," Ookami stated as he came in with his bundle on his back. "You fainted a while ago so Otose-san had you set on the futon until you would come back around."

Gintoki noticed that the boy was wearing his former attire. The black, red-lined shirt and pants complemented his somewhat pale skin and the white of the blue-swirled yukata harmonized with the electric blue of his hair and eyes. What's more, he wore the yukata the same way the silver-permed did before.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?" Gintoki asked, slightly irritated by the fact that the brat looked much better in the outfit than he did.

"I didn't bring my extra clothes since I had no room for them to put in so Otose-san suggested that I should wear your old clothes since you had a change in your wardrobe," Ookami replied as he scratched the back of his head.

"Did you get my permission on that?"

"No, but I had Otose-san's and she said that was enough."

Ookami put down his bundle and began to untie the rope holding it together. When he was done, he uncovered its leather covering to reveal two swords in their sheaths. He handed Gintoki the one with the silver-colored sheath.

"Go on. Take a look at it," Ookami coaxed.

The silver-permed hesitated at first but curiosity got the best of him. He unsheathed the sword slowly, the light it reflected glinting brightly. The sword was saber-like, its blade white in color and slightly curving upward, yet its pointy end was forked into two prongs. But what surprised Gintoki the most was that the blade was fashioned like a frame instead of being a flat, solid stick of metal. It had no inner space – as in a long, metal rod was bent into its shape and flattened at one edge to make it sharp and able to cut. There were four diagonal beams intersecting the width of the frame, two near the top and slanting to the right while the other two were slanted to the left and located close to the base. Each beam was placed closely beside its partner, forming a slit between them that was narrow enough for a katana's blade to be inserted into. The base of the blade was entwined by a pair of little silver vines. The handle was wrapped in a long strip of white cloth with its ends free and dangling down. The cloth was marked with an unfamiliar, silver-inked writing.

"What kind of a sword is this?" Gintoki questioned as he sliced the air with the sword. "It's light, seems fragile and will probably break when too much force is exerted."

"It only seems fragile," Ookami corrected then threw the older man his missing bokutou, "try to cut your wooden sword with the one I gave you."

Gintoki sniggered a bit but opted to give it a try. Despite its frail appearance, the sword was sharp and sturdy for it neatly sliced the bokutou in half. As in there were no splinters, no cracks, and no inequalities. His old bokutou was absolutely, and astonishingly, cut perfectly into two parts.

"Impossible!" Gintoki cried in bewilderment as he looked at the sliced wooden stick then at the frame-like sword (or sword-like frame?). "My bokutou was made from the – "

"Wood of a ten thousand year old tree," Ookami completed, smirking and arms folded across his chest, "I found out from its smell, despite the weird scent of curry mixed with it. The sword you have just received was forged purely from Ultranium White, a near-indestructible metal alloy and the rarest in the universe."

Gintoki looked on in shock as Ookami reached for the other sword.

"Ultranium White is so invulnerable," the boy continued, "that it can cut through diamonds neater than any laser of any world can. My sword, Aokiba – "

He unsheathed the sword he was holding, exposing it to be built just like Gintoki's, except that it was blue and the handle was engraved with a figure of a howling wolf.

" – is made from Ultranium Blue, a lighter, more flexible alloy than Ultranium White but is just as strong. Ultranium Blue can be only found inside the asteroids revolving around the Inusei planet so it is also quite uncommon since only the Inusei government has jurisdiction to land and mine on the asteroids."

"Well, what about this?" Gintoki inquired, pointing at the writings on his sword's handle cloth. "What does this mean?"

"That is an ancient Inusei writing long forgotten by the Inusei themselves," Ookami explained, "it says 'Shiroyasha no Shirotsuno'."

"'White Horn of the White Demon'. Who named it?"

Ookami looked away. Gintoki noted the solemn expression on his face and frowned.

"Why? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," the boy denied, "it's just that…my Mom was the one who came up with the name. She studied extinct Inusei languages and considered it her passion. She…died a year ago."

Gintoki felt like he'd just been stabbed in the heart. Fear took hold of him and he began to tremble.

"What is your mother's name?" he asked.

Ookami turned back to him.

"Aosora Haruhana."

The silver-permed's eyes widened. His face then twisted in sorrow and he fell to his knees. His shoulders shuddered as tears streamed down like waterfalls.

"No, that can't be true," he muttered through his gasps as he placed his hands in front of him to support his faltering body. "Haruhana…I loved her so much. It's been seventeen years since I last saw her and I didn't even know that we had a child! I shouldn't have walked away and went on my own path. I wish I had pushed on a little more to go with her back to her home and helped her raised our child instead of letting her leave and rearing the child alone. Dammit! She could've spent her last her last seventeen years with her family complete! I'm such an asshole!"

… … …

I watched as my father wept and cursed himself several times over.

Though she never described him fully, my Mom told me stories of him. She told me he was a warrior who cared more about his comrades than his land of birth and that when he participated in the Joui war, he kept on fighting, not minding whether the blood splattered on his white cloak was his or of his slain enemies. He slashed his way through a mob of opponents and no matter what damage they laid on him, he didn't stop. When the battle ended, there were corpses everywhere and the man known as Shiroyasha cried noiselessly in the rain, the droplets of water hiding his tears and washing away the blood that stained him, but never the sins he carried.

Then Mom would say that when he loved something, he would adore it with all his heart and protect it no matter what, not wanting to ever part with it. So when the time came that she had to leave and return to our planet for she was of royal blood and she had to attend to her duties, the man who loved her more than her father did turned into a demon again and fought countless Inusei soldiers just to be with her longer. Mom would smile at me when she recalled that time, but I knew that was to hide her tears from me. And I knew what the ending of that story was and that it devastated both of them.

I was raised to be a good-natured boy, though my temper would get the best of me most of the time, especially when local residents of our planet would tease me for being an Ainoko. I grew to love swords and learned the arts of swordfighting from my grandfather, my Mom's father and a samurai. He taught me well and on my sixteenth birthday, I got my own sword as a gift and I named it Aokiba.

Mom made sure I would never grow up with anger for my father by telling me tales of his feats, especially those I had mentioned before. So now, as I watched him cry, I felt pity for him. I could tell that he had loved Mom more than anyone could, including me. I felt the remorse in his voice as he yelled at himself for letting her go and his anger as he punched at the floor. I sat beside him and did my best to condole him, telling him that it was not his fault in the first place and that Mom had loved him as much as he did.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I'm sorry for leaving your mother alone to do her responsibilities and for making you grow up fatherless. I-I didn't know. I'm so, so sorry…"

I smiled softly and hugged him. I could tell that he was surprised because he had stopped his sobbing.

"Apology accepted, Dad," I said as I began to cry as well. "Mom told me to find you and now that I have, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, your flesh is my flesh and your blood is my blood. When you'll grow old, I'll take care of you because Mom made me love you, even when you weren't there with us."

I looked up at him as he looked down at me. He then smiled and hugged me back.

"I promise to make sure that your time here with me won't be wasted and that I'll always be by your side," he whispered as he stroked my hair. "But one thing's for sure and that's you're one hell of a poet, just like your mother. You could easily charm ladies with a few lines of romantic poetry. And I'm glad that you weren't curse with a perm like mine."


Notes:

Aokiba - Blue Fang. Swordnaming kinda reminds ya of Bleach, no?

Shiroyasha no Shirotsuno - White Horn of the White Demon. I know, very practical.

Aosora Haruhana - Spring Flower, Blue Sky