A/N: Holy crap. The italics parts are getting longer and longer. It's suprisingly easy to write about preparing for war. And a lot of fun.
"So stupid," Tomoe sighed as she bandaged Gintoki's wounds.
"Owowowowow!" Gintoki said, recoiling from her. "Be gentle with your darling older brother."
She paused, shooting him a dull stare, before yanking the bandage even tighter. Gintoki flinched, hissing with pain, but he didn't say anything for fear of provoking her into causing him more pain. Yet… He frowned, studying her for a moment. In spite of her rough treatment of his wounds, she looked almost happy. At peace. He wondered what happened.
"There," she tied the last of the bandages and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, thankfully an uninjured area.
Gintoki's frown deepened.
"What?" She asked, annoyed with his blatant staring.
"Er… No, nothing. You just didn't ask how I got these wounds," Gintoki commented, rubbing the back of his head.
"You were fighting," Tomoe deadpanned.
"Well, duh!" Gintoki rolled his eyes, then glanced sheepishly at her. "You're not gonna ask who?"
Tomoe raised an eyebrow at him, then sighed. It was so obvious that he wanted her to ask. Strange, considering that he usually didn't want her to know and refused to tell her why he got hurt so badly once in a while, but if he wanted her to ask… Tomoe sighed.
Damn it, did he have to give her that puppy dog look?
"Alright, who were you fighting?" Tomoe asked, humoring him.
"Oboro."
The girl froze, hand darting out to grasp is bandaged arm in a vice grip. "What?"
"Owowowowow!" Gintoki howled, peeling away from her. "What's with that reaction? I'm injured here!"
Her face, usually so calm, contorted in rage, her eyes beginning to glow red. Gintoki felt cold sweat form on his forehead, felt his legs begin to tremor with fear. He hated seeing Tomoe in Tsukikage mode, and not just because it reminded him of the Joui War. Her eyes usually turned red only when facing enemies, especially those she hated with her whole heart, and they usually died within moments of seeing those crimson orbs glaring at them.
Needless to say, it was terrifying for Gintoki to see those eyes directed at him.
"You… Still hate them," Gintoki said softly, his expression unusually serious. "I thought…"
"Forgive and forget, right?" Tomoe said, grabbing the first aid kit and turning abruptly.
She walked to the bathroom and replaced the kit under the sink where it belonged, keeping her head lowered so Gintoki wouldn't see her reflection in the mirror. But he didn't need to see it to know her eyes were once again filled with sorrow and rage, and hatred as deep as the galaxies.
If he was honest, he would say he was surprised that his little half sister hadn't turned out like Takasugi. Sure, Gintoki and Katsura loathed the Amanto and the bakufu who killed their sensei, but Gintoki would rather go with the flow so he wouldn't lose any more comrades, and Katsura was…
Well, Katsura was an idiot, but then Gintoki could well imagine that all of the Last Generation were idiots. Zura also wanted to destroy the bakufu as a joui, so for the man to turn to passive resistance was strange. Perhaps Gintoki could say that Katsura, like himself, didn't have the capacity to hate that Takasugi did, the long haired man turning more towards grief and moving on with life than despair, hatred, and destruction.
But Tomoe had Amanto blood, and a race of warriors to boot. Hatred and killing was in her blood, a large part of her instincts. For her to turn out like this, ladylike and innocent… Well, it was a surprise, but a pleasant one. As long as nobody dragged her back into the darkness, she could probably live out the rest of her life in peace, with a normal, painless death.
Gintoki knew that for a samurai to die in bed at an old age was considered by many to be a dishonor, a disgrace. Especially in the age of the Amanto, when samurai had to live a life of poverty and suffering, hara-kiri at the end of the war had been preferable to many. Even so, he wanted those he cared about to live a long life and die painlessly, even if he had to sacrifice his own life for that end. It sounded hypocritical, but that was Gintoki's bushido.
Perhaps it was fortunate that he didn't know that, mere hours ago, Takasugi and Tomoe had assassinated the former shogun. Tomoe shot a glance over her shoulder at the silver haired samurai. As she told Takasugi, she had spent the last few months convincing everyone of an illusion. She closed her eyes. She needed to calm down so she didn't break Gintoki's current view of her.
Tomoe inhaled deeply before exhaling, and turned back to Gintoki with a smile. "If you are alive, then I suppose you defeated Oboro. I am glad you did not get yourself killed."
Gintoki grinned, inwardly sighing with relief. "Yeah. I won."
From where they hid behind the closet door, eavesdropping, Kagura and Shinpachi sighed with relief. For a moment there they thought the siblings would get into a fight, and Shinpachi knew better than anyone what happened when a seemingly nice person snapped. After all, he lived with a woman who put on a façade of being a kind and gentle yamato nadeshiko, yet was a completely horrifying gorilla underneath. Tomoe seemed genuine, though, and that just made the prospect of her snapping even worse.
"Come on, idiot. I will treat you to food, since you defeated that man," Tomoe said. "You too, Shinpachi-kun, Kagura-chan."
The two crawled sheepishly out of the closet, Shinpachi rubbing the back of his head. "You knew we were there? I'm sorry. We didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"It is all right," Tomoe said with a smile.
Shinpachi thanked the heavens that she was so much nicer than his sister. Otae would probably have smacked him seven ways to next week.
It was long after noon, and the group ate a light meal before stretching, preparing themselves for the ambush. Tomoe sighed and completed her stretches, enjoying the last few hours of being clean and well fed and well rested.
After caring for their horses—the first rule of Amatsukaze was that the samurai had to care for the Entei before themselves—washing and eating, she and the rest of Amatsukaze had gone to sleep. The others didn't bother the group, having seen and heard the explosion from miles away, and knew the group had once again done their work well.
"You ready?" Fourteen year old Takasugi asked, coming up quietly behind the girl.
If he was disappointed by the lack of reaction, he didn't show it. She merely turned and smiled at him, and for a moment, he could see the eight year old girl instead of the war hardened samurai.
"Of course."
He sat down beside her, armor clinking together. "I hope your explosions and poison killed enough of them."
Tomoe smirked, raising an eyebrow, silently challenging him. "You scared?"
Takasugi scoffed. "You wish."
Tomoe laughed.
"We've got the Kiheitai, Amatsukaze, and those two idiots," she gestured to where Katsura and Gintoki stood arguing about something completely pointless. "We're not going to lose to anyone."
Takasugi glanced over at the two armored men, and raised his eyebrow at Tomoe as if to ask, 'you really trust them with your back?' and earned another bout of laughter from the girl. He smiled. It was nice that they could laugh normally in between battles like this.
"Shin-chan…"
The teenager reached over and ruffled her hair, ignoring the protests that he was messing it up. She would put it into a braid later anyways. Takasugi frowned, and tugged a lock of light purple hair.
"Can I braid it?" He asked before he realized what he was saying. "Never mind."
"Yeah. Go ahead," she said, finding nothing wrong with the request.
Takasugi hesitated for a moment. It wasn't manly to sit down braiding a girl's hair. But then again, it wasn't manly to drink a little kid's beverage like yakult either. So he shrugged, sat down beside her, and began to comb through her hair with his fingers.
It was soft, but he expected that much anyways. Her hair was always soft, and curled gently, unlike that idiot perm head. And it was a nice color. Made it that much easier to find her in the middle of the battlefield, even though she was so much shorter than everyone else.
He worked out all the knots and began to weave her hair into a single braid, making sure there were no stray hairs to get into her eyes in the middle of the fight. It was strangely relaxing. He could see why she sometimes braided and re-braided her hair before a major fight.
"Done," he finally said, and tied up the end.
"Thanks."
They shared a small smile before Takasugi stiffened, the smile fading as a scout ran back, panting and sweating. Tomoe glanced over her shoulder, and her smile vanished as well, the girl rising to her feet.
"Tomoe-hime, Takasugi-dono," the scout greeted.
Tomoe would have pouted at the honorific she had told the men hundreds of times not to use, but this wasn't the time. She simply waited for the man to regain his breath before asking for his report. By then Gintoki and Katsura had realized something was happening, and had joined the two.
"The Amanto are half an hour away. They moved faster than expected, and they're only speeding up," the scout reported.
"Damn it," Takasugi cursed. "Why didn't anybody report earlier?"
The scout's eyes only shifted nervously.
"Doesn't matter now," Tomoe said curtly, before turning to shout to the army. "We move out. NOW!"
"Momo," Takasugi said, using his nickname for the girl. She glanced over at him. He hesitated. "Be careful."
She gave him a tight smile and nodded. "You too."