Warning: Still language.
Flash-fic format, as per normal.
A/N: No, I still don't own Gintama. Honestly, what'd you expect? I'll be rolling around in cash by now if I did own the copyrights to it. And profits. Don't forget the profits.
Chapter 4: Whisper
This isn't being very productive.
I sneezed loudly, rubbing my sore nose even as the onslaught of the hay fever in the region resulted in higher than expected casualties this year round. Well, it is early summer, so it is no surprise that a good number of people are down with sniffles and even mild fever since a couple of days ago.
I held onto my small broomstick, intent on finishing the courtyard sweep before retreating into the sanctuary of the dormitory where countless other warriors have fallen.
Metaphorically speaking, of course. Just because we do get dojo sessions to learn kendo about thrice a week, taught by Shoyou-sensei doesn't make us actual samurai.
I should know. Who knows how many times my ass got handed to me by one of those insufferable, stuck up kids like oh, I don't know, Takasugi ring a bell?
No?
Screw you.
That horrible roommate just HAD to lord it over me at every opportunity he gets, whether or not it's deserved.
So, you can't blame me for replacing his medicine with plain soup right?
Right?
Okay so, vendetta aside, only 6 of us were healthy enough to continue lessons, out of the original 20 or so.
And so, precisely because of what a horrible summer it has been so far, our remaining lessons have all been converted into book lessons.
Yes, you heard me right the first time. Books. Reading materials. On the samurai code of the Bushido and etc.
That I have absolutely no interest in. But sadly, no matter how much we begged and pleaded Shoyou-sensei, his iron clad determination is next to impossible to break through, though we did try.
No means no, that we learnt the hard way.
How? Well...
By the time we were big enough in sensei's eyes to entrust bokken for us to practise our stances out in the courtyard about a couple of months after Gintoki was taken under Shoyou-sensei's wing like the rest of us, the silver haired boy made a name for himself. And a lifetime friend as well in the name of the mother-hen known as Katsura.
Or as we all quite affectionately term him as, Zura-chan. Just to watch him turn red and splutter that he's not a girl.
Either way, Gintoki had quite literally, demolished the chaos and replaced it with unruly order using the might of his teeth to establish a new classroom hierarchy the very moment that Shoyou-sensei took his eyes off us when he left on a herbs gathering trip at the nearby hills for a couple of days.
Yes, teeth.
And no, you wouldn't want to go there.
What's the end result?... Well, we were all reminded of Shoyou-sensei's rule number 1: Comrades are your brothers in arms. We pick fights together, not apart or with each other.
It was beaten into us - kindly, by our adopted father, with lots and lots of love of course, during our kendo drill lessons once he got back and the honest monks told him everything.
My mind drifted off to the good old days with lots of sparring and beating the hell out of one another -supervised- all in the name of training. All the sweat and adrenaline and bruises does quite some good stress relief using the passive-aggressive revenge tactics against horrible schoolmates that you just can't get rid of.
...Hm? Did I hear something?
I quickly scampered across the mostly clean courtyard, to the corner of the temple that was shaded partially by the old sakura tree. Shoyou-sensei and another guy, in rich merchant clothes were conversing in hushed, secretive tones that just begged to be deciphered.
Colour me interested.
Well, curiosity may kill the cat but unless it's dead it is bound to happen one way or another...
So.
Without any remorse, I climbed onto the rooftop for the vantage point of view, my abysmal skills at lip-reading is improving with every try. I think. Eh, it doesn't hurt to be optimistic.
"...situation?"
"Amanto... invasio-...soon, not safe"
Shoyou-sensei looks worried. "...disrupt... peace?"
The unknown male nodded, seemingly worried. "...foreigner...bad."
"Kids...careful."
Shoyou-sensei nodded again, this time round his face took on a darker, more worried look that I recently being acquainted with through the troublemaker antics by the more mischievous pranks played in class.
What's going on? Amanto? Is it some kind of disease or something?
I shifted closer, precariously teetering on the edge. Just then, a broken roof tile fell off.
Crack.
Oops.
TBC.