Aaand we're back from commercial break! Let's get back to: WHICH ARC DID I COVER?!
Yes, it was the Yoshiwara one: the Red Spider Arc. My dear guest who always reviews, I, too, confuse this with Yoshiwara in Flames.
BECAUSE WHAT PART OF YOSHIWARA WAS IN FLAMES DURING THAT ARC?! TELL ME?! *cue Ginpachi-sensei throwing question in trash* when I think IN FLAMES I think of JIRAIA and his literal SETTING AFIRE OF YOSHIWARAAAA.
But yes. That was it.
FUN FACTS:
Ch. 28: real quotes from Gintama useeeed! and of course... this leads toooo...
DISCLAIMER: "When you love a person, you love all the dirty things about her too!" -Sakata Gintoki
(c) the GREAT SORACHI
Eyes of Wolves
- 29 -
.: MAY, FIVE WEEKS AGO :.
The petrichor of new rain emanated from all about, soaking them in the damp yet crisp enrapture of clean air. The sun hadn't quite emerged, but the streams of light permeated the clouds in miniscule tunnels.
Zenshi touched Tsukuyo's shoulder. She broke from her thoughts, pushing herself to her feet.
"What time is it?"
"About time," he replied, shaking the water from his umbrella. With the subtle overcast, he promptly decided that there would be no need for the shade.
They started to walk home.
.: Mid-JULY, PRESENT :.
"Well done," said Umibouzu, nodding in approval. "What does the key say?"
"Here are the coordinates," answered Zenshi, flipping the paper open. "That's back down to the southwestern embassy."
They had been following a chain of letters for weeks, now. Umibouzu's main purpose on earth was, besides running from Kada's henchmen, to collect a series of letters and redistribute them so as to jumble the mail's chain of passage. He would, upon collecting the envelopes that passed through Edo, redress the packages and change the envelopes, essentially erasing tracks. All were dealing with this "operation" he had so mysteriously spoken of, and more than a few were to big names in big places.
"This is the royal Xanxian seal," observed Zenshi, flipping through a few pages.
"Yes. They're on one side of the war, remember?" At times like this, Umibouzu settled down in the shade of a dank alley, his sonorous voice lowered to a rigid mumble.
"We haven't found it though," Zenshi said.
"No, we haven't."
It referred to the it letter that Umibouzu was supposedly supposed to find and give to Zenshi. Apparently it held orders from the "higher-up" that would initiate the official plan. Zenshi's primary concern was: why him?
"Because you'reβ" Umibouzu's voice staggered, and then he pretended to be overly interested in another letter, rather uncomfortably breaking mid-sentence.
"I appreciate your consideration," Zenshi began complaisantly. "But you mustn't worry about offending me."
"Well." Umibouzu cleared his throat. "You are, primarily, the most mobile link to Linter at the moment. And I don't have to explain much else, do I?"
Unbeknownst to Zenshi, there was much else to explain. But for the moment, it made logical sense that the son of one of the universe's most powerful political figures would be a key within this remarkable operation.
"Sometimes I wonder," Umibouzu implored suddenly, "if you and Kagura are similar."
Zenshi's expression was blank.
"Since, after all, you were both left behind by fathers."
The younger Yato offered the old fighter a wan sigh.
"Are you?" asked Umibouzu.
"What do you think?"
.: Beginning of JULY, TWO WEEKS AGO :.
Umibouzu exchanged a strapped package for another. Zenshi, on the other hand, was occupied with his own letter. He had long since pulled out the Sciuttlan letter, and despite Mei's warning to burn the message, he reluctantly kept it a few more days to confirm what his eyes read.
To whom it may concern,
I have reason to believe that a friend of mine is in danger. There is a specific person I wish to seek, and I am aware that he currently resides on Earth. I would prefer if he keeps quiet about the origin of this letter. The process will most likely take a few months, seeing as my own situation is one of urgency and incognito travel.
Soldier three seven three, do not forget this:
I will never forget your act of kindness. We are well, as well as one can be when there are military raids and civilian shootings. The children and families you entrusted to me have fared decently, despite the government recruitments. There have been few "disappearances" from this suburb, for it's out of the way and rather quiet. Soldiers have inevitably claimed all young men thirteen and older. The rest quake in fear for the day their thirteenth birthday arrives; I have seen many cry as they are carted away.
But enough story.
And then it went blank. Earlier, Umibouzu had rather intrusively leaned over his shoulder and suggested he shine an ultraviolet light over the letter. It revealed:
The requests should have gone through. Earth is our main exchange area, and though some do not have access to invisible ink, they will still open with the same format. This is, I'm told, for security purposes.
A military raid is coming our way soon. There are plans to bomb all rebel cities, even the big ones. We are living in a medium-sized metropolis, but nowhere is safe. The outward alliances are uneasy because the government here gives no word.
As much as I will try to protect others and stay safe, please stay safe as well.
Signed:
Petty Officer Jenhao β East Tomokaz, Sciuttla.
.: THREE YEARS AGO :.
She has procured a pillow and is throwing it down the hall, picking it up, and throwing it again. They fly down the corridor with astonishing speed, and Mei hits the turn so fast that she nearly squashes a poor crewman against the wall. Zenshi, though of a tall build, sweeps the deck like a phantom, taking long, swift strides whilst watching Mei scramble after him.
"Pillow fight?" sings Kamui, coming out of one area and very naturally flattening himself against the nearest bulwark before Mei can slam the pillow in his face.
She instead smacks right into Abuto, who is less than amused.
"We are pirates," he says, muffled through the pillowcase. Mei withdraws, looking half abashed and half on the verge of hilarity. Her mirth is a droll contrast to Abuto's drab disregard for all humor (though he himself is quite the comedian, at times). "We don't," he emphasizes, "have pillow fights."
Mei turns indignantly to Kamui. Both she and Zenshi have not so much as moved an inch, awaiting their redheaded commander's predictable next words.
"The captain orders it." He grins; Abuto grimaces.
The youngest crewmembers are streaking down the halls with cushions in hand, and though one of them manages to fall into a vat of soup and upset everyone in the galley, the entire thing is ridiculously entertaining. Zenshi spends a majority of his time evading, while the newest recruits and those his own age and doubling over with laughter, pillows smashed between limbs and faces.
Tabs emerges as king until Mei bursts from a storage closet and nails him in the face. They dissolve into cacophonous laughter, with Mei who snorts when she laughs and Tabs who sounds like a prim Thoroughbred turned donkey.
Kamui reaches up and smacks Tabs with a pillow, despite the fact that the older seaman had already pinned their captain with a cleverly planned cushion ambush.
"Today, I assume the role of captain," Tabs declares.
"Hey, I just got you." Mei rolls her eyes, sitting atop her mountain of pillows. Someone's muffled voice comes from below, and she ignores it. The older members of the crew pick around the mess like it's a quotidian scene, eyes amusedly glazing over the gigantic Harusame crest that has been painted in tomato soup across the galley floor.
It will, inevitably, be mopped up by one of the perpetrators.
And Zenshi laughs when Tabs and Mei stand there, buckets and pails and scrubs at ready, looking somewhat forlorn but and somewhat teary-eyed β from laughter, that is.
.: Beginning of JULY, TWO WEEKS AGO :.
Not only did the letter start the same way, but it also addressed him as 373. Umibouzu, rather flatly, informed him that this was the code for sending all letters. Almost everyone involved had been assigned a number, revolving around his central Harusame initiation code.
"I didn't use the black-light ink," Umibouzu explained, "because I felt there was no need. You wouldn't have known to use the light, anyway."
A younger Zenshi might have bristled at this, but the present him dropped the subject to brood in silence. He knew, Zenshi thought. Jenhao had known precisely what he was doing.
Or had he?
"Hey, Blue," called the bald Yato. He had taken to calling Zenshi "Blue," a nickname from so long ago that the person in question had nearly forgotten it. It originated from his hair, which, though black for the most part, glinted a metallic navy in the discerning light. His younger years had seen a lighter shade, a dark cobalt that earned him his "Blue" title in elementary school. Besides that obscure fact, Zenshi readily admitted that he tended to wear an abundance of blue apparel.
Zenshi turned to face Umibouzu when called.
"Burn that letter."
.: -YOSHIWARA- JULY, PRESENT :.
"Don't forget your bento," Hinowa called absently. There was no need to remind the boy, for he was sitting lugubrious gloom, the bento in question set in front of him before his departure for summer school.
"Mom," Seita said, almost blankly. "I didn't do my math homework."
Hinowa frowned. "Nothing you can do now, Seita. Make sure you come home and do it tonight, then."
"Okay." The boy had barely pushed his oatmeal around, and now presented it to her completely untouched.
"Eat yer breakfast," Tsukuyo glowered.
"I did."
"Oh?"
Seita stood, then. "I'm going to go early and see if I can get some homework done."
Tsukuyo began to rise, but Hinowa caught her sleeve.
"It's been a tough week. Let him go." The top courtesan's eyes drifted to the buildings across the street, rooftops still singed by long-extinguished flames. Metallic wires remained cautious remnants here and there, despite Yorozuya's frantic cutting and tearing.
Tsukuyo slowly leaned back into her seat.
"He's bad at history, y'know," she mentioned, out of the blue. "Not math. Hist'ry."
"I know."
kind of short, but I hope to get another one out for 30!
There are a few references in this one. CAN YOU SPOT'EM?!
