It's lunch time. He's got his lunchbox open, and Gintoki sitting across the table, helping himself to his food as per usual. He wonders, not for the first time, when this has become his everyday life. As far as he can remember, he has been in pretty good control of his daily activities. Never would he have allowed a thing like some strange kid with white hair poking his chopsticks around in his lunch. He doesn't share too well, his brother says. Personally, he thinks he doesn't share at all.
But then this.
This everyday, and he doesn't even know how, or when, or why.
He literally has to fight off Gintoki's chopsticks to defend his last piece of eggroll. "How are we even friends?"
Gintoki shrugs, dividing his attention between his own lunchbox and the strawberry milk he nagged off of the lunch lady. "You were the new kid. Transfers tend to be popular; don't know how you got stuck with me."
Thinking back, how did he end up with Gintoki? He does remember being surround by kids the first couple of days, as annoying as it was. "I think you stole my pudding at lunch."
Gintoki snorts. "I think you said I had weird hair."
"You do."
He gets a kick to his shin. "Why am I even friends with you?"
"'Cause you don't have any other friends."
"Not like you have any, either."
He returns the kick. "I don't because your No-Friends-Curse passed onto me."
"Well now you're stuck as my No-Friends-Curse buddy, suck it up."
