The next three weeks passed quickly. The weather wasn't very cold, just cold enough to remind people it's still winter. There was still snow on the ground, piling up from time to time, but almost immediately being swept away by the residents. The area, although at first looking grim and dangerous, turned out to be a simple place full of poor families. Kids were constantly reenacting gang wars and starting snowball fights, which lasted until their parents would call them for meal time, or to stop yelling. All in all, it was a peaceful neighborhood, most of the time. They did get occasional visits from one particular gang – Hiroto's gang.
As Gintoki assumed upon their second encounter, Hiroto's gang controlled this part of the town. Everybody had to pay a fee in exchange for "protection". They never bothered Gintoki and he was still uncertain of what their plan is. Did they think he was a big enough threat and decided to leave him alone, or were they planning some big retaliation? This question left an uneasy feeling that followed him around for some time. Although he was constantly on edge at first and kept his eyes open, as weeks passed, Gintoki relaxed more and more. The peace slowly cast a false sense of security over him.
Although he has been worrying about the gang, Gintoki had to admit, with a little pride, that he was quite productive. The holes in the walls were fixed, though not exactly when he planned; he developed some procrastinating habits. Telling himself he had to recuperate before doing any hard work, he suddenly realized he didn't do anything for a week. So he fixed the holes. He also managed to make a table and a chair out of things he found in the backyard. As time passed and he tinkered around the house, he suddenly realized that this place felt like home. It wasn't much, that was for sure, but it made him feel like he belonged there.
He also acquired a futon. He was happy that he had anything he could sleep on. It was placed next to the hibachi, which constantly had fire and was radiating heat. It was still enough cold that he knew the luxury of it burning off could be devastating.
As his strength returned, his spirit lifted. He didn't have a mirror, so he did occasional check-ups of his body by hand. Gintoki was very happy to notice that he couldn't feel his ribs anymore upon touching his sides, and one quick look at the glass on one of the shops confirmed that the color returned to his face.
What he couldn't get rid off were the black circles under his eyes. His sleeping pattern was messed up and he spent plenty of nights just laying there, being unable to fall asleep. He was also constantly tired. On those occasions when he could sleep, he did it for so long, he would actually wake up in the dark, realizing he missed a whole day of being productive. Being an optimist by heart, Gintoki hoped it will pass if he gave it some time. It's been a long time since he had this problem.
They were in the war and things were looking bad. With Tatsuma leaving, the mood among the troops dropped heavily. Sakamoto Tatsuma, master swordsman and the loud person of the famous Joui 4, was the one who kept them all in check. Cracking jokes, constantly laughing and overall keeping the mood up, he was the person who actually kept the rest of the gang together. The change in personalities of the Joui leaders spread the miserable mood amongst the rest of the troops.
This continued for two months. Constant bickering between Gintoki and his best friend, Takasugi Shinsuke, happened more and more often. Katsura, the fourth member of the Joui 4, tried his best to settle the matters between these two peacefully, but in the end they would always find themselves with their swords drawn and soldiers holding them back so they won't hurt each other.
After two months they finally found him. The Amanto who belonged with the Tendoshu and who was responsible for the execution of their sensei, the only father figure Gintoki had in his life. The roof of that building where the Amanto ambushed them during their rest, was where everything started to go downhill.
They suffered their worst defeat ever by the hands of that Amanto. In all the chaos that ensued, Gintoki noticed Takasugi being injured a little too late. He managed to drag him away from the battle, but not without a cost. Gintoki himself suffered a wound that rendered his right arm immobile.
It was a great shock for the soldiers. Carried by the belief that their leaders were invincible, the little courage they had has. Gintoki spent days beside Takasugi's bed. He couldn't sleep, nor eat. All he could do was think about how sorry he was. If they just weren't fighting so much and cooperated that one time, his friend wouldn't have been in this state now. His friend wouldn't have been on the brink of death. Another soul, another weight Gintoki could have carried.
After that event, they just suffered loss after loss. Gintoki was just numb. He couldn't feel anything; he was operating on autopilot. While Takasugi was slowly descending into madness and Katsura desperately trying to keep the troops together, Gintoki spent his days between battles just walking around, or taking care of his swords. He sought to be alone; refusing to talk to anyone.
Then one day he suddenly woke up from that madness. Standing on the battlefield, his white clothes now completely red from the blood, he was utterly alone. Only thing that could be heard was the rain falling on the corpses around him. That's when the revelation hit him – he couldn't stand this anymore, all this death and destruction. He has lost his cause. He decided to leave. Just like that, he disappeared, nowhere to be found. The stories of legendary Shiroyasha slowly died and now only people who participated in the war remembered him.
That's how he ended up in a place like this. Always hiding and running away. It was much easier than fighting for a lost cause. It brought fewer casualties. Honor can be restored, life couldn't.
Gintoki stood up and stretched his arms. He still felt exhausted even though he hadn't done anything important today. During the time he settled in this place, he managed to earn some money by helping people with house repairs. Sometimes he did it in exchange for a warm meal or clothing. Maybe it seemed like a rough life to a bystander, but for Gintoki, it was a good, honest, and peaceful life.
He scratched his cat behind its ears. Rei, a big smart cat which he welcomed when he moved in, decided the man was good enough to take care of him so their bond became a little tighter. It was strictly professional: a scratch behind the ears and a meal in exchange for a dead mouse.
"What a lovely relationship", thought Gintoki while chuckling.
He yawned. Maybe it was time to sleep for now and work can wait until tomorrow. He went to his futon and covered himself preparing to sleep. Tomorrow he'll ask that old man who was complaining about his windows not being sealed very good if he could fix them in exchange for a warm meal. Ramen would be nice to have. He hadn't had ramen in ages. A smile appeared on his face. The only thing that could ruin his mood right now is rain, and he could hear the soft sound of it while hitting the roof. That is a huge letdown. He is going to be soaking wet tomorrow. He could already feel the cold water on his shoulder. Standing in the middle of the street he felt the drops falling on him. Annoyed, he put a hand on his shoulder to check how much wet it is and if he should just go back and change his clothes.
But when he removed his hand he noticed that something was wrong. There was something red on his palm. Casting a glance on his robes, a look of horror appeared on his face as he realized that it wasn't the rain that was falling. It was blood. He took a step backwards, but his feet hit something heavy and he fell. As he looked at his right, his eyes met the cold gaze of a dead body, sneering at him.
"Was my death satisfying to you, Shiroyasha?" The corpse whispered, while gripping his hand tightly.
Gintoki jumped from his bed, trembling and breathing heavily. Trying to calm down he looked at his surroundings. It was just a dream. He was back in his room, on his bed. His shoulder was wet, though. Still not having regained the sense of reality, he prayed to heavens to not let it be blood. Closing his eyes he touched his shoulder. When he opened his eyes, a loud sigh of relief escaped him when he saw only water. It was then that he finally heard the water dropping in a slow rhythm from the ceiling on the spot he used to sleep. Cursing loudly, he moved his futon away from that spot to somewhere dry. He tried to go back to sleep, but soon found out he couldn't stop shaking. The memory of the dream was still vivid and every time he closed his eyes he saw that image of blood over and over again. He put his palms on his eyes and pressed hard against them, willing the images to go away. After the failed attempt he realized that sleep was not an option.
He stood up and grabbed a hammer. At least fixing the roof will preoccupy his mind.
He greeted the sun at the roof, soaking wet from rain, no work done.
A/N: I am so sorry for the delay. I kinda lost all my notes for this fic so had to start from the scratch. That is no excuse. I am a terrible person.
I would also take this opportunity to thank NientedeNada for giving me a very good tip for editing and writing that made me actually love this chapter for a change.
I'd also like to thank SNK anime for providing me with great nightmare fuel which was an inspiration for the dream.
That is all. Yell out.
A/N: And I was done with this chapter, too. ^^ The style in which the dream was written bugged me a bit, but I finally decided to let it stay as it is. Once again, there wasn't much to edit. I think I should slowly start thinking about chapter 6…
