Good evening. I hope everyone is faring well, and safe from the virus.

It's a little late over here. 11 P.M. I'm well and alive, just busy. Sorry about the slow updates.

Enjoy the new chapter^^

Disclaimer: Gintama isn't mine


Takasugi glared down soullessly at the antagonist who had been using someone important as a bait, shield and as a bargain for his life as he stood suspended on his katana, along with her.

He drew his arm back swiftly, pulling the blade from Kuso's chest and noticing that there was no blood coating it and letting the corpse crumple onto the ground in a heap. He lowered his eye to the small graze in his side Kuso had given him with the kunai before he died. Whether it was poisoned or covered with some kind of drug, he didn't know. But it most likely was. He only hoped that he would last out before it took a hold of him.

What had remained of Shuyo had disappeared the moment his sword pierced her torso, disintegrating like dissolving paper into the air.

As he sheathed his katana, Takasugi continued, "At the very least… I don't care for a mere illusion you created of that woman."

He had first registered that something was off when he saw that illusion cry and act rather out of behavior for her. He knew that Shuyo was not such a weak figure as to start shedding tears in such a situation... and more so when he had told her not to cry again. She would have smiled at him, in that familiar, affectionate way of hers, then tried to get out of the Noragami's hold on her own. Then he started realizing that she might not be real at all when Kuso continued to use her as a tool to keep him at bay. If she was such a precious sacrifice for them, then they – that red-figure – wouldn't have ever used her in such a way. Rather, the timing would have called for them to already be preparing her as the sacrifice. She wouldn't be here at all.

The second thing he realized during the fight was that despite Kuso's ability to heal, and be extremely agile and strong, he was depending much too heavily on his own weapons. While Takasugi had continually used all parts of his body in combat, executing a series of kicks, punches and lunges, Kuso had never once used anything but his kunai and his dao blades. In battle, it was a rather foolish thing to depend on only one's weapons, because you could never tell what would happen to that weapon. Being proficient and skilled with all weapons and moves was a mandatory requirement for survival.

He had given that Noragami too much credit in the beginning for his abilities.

But something told him that that other leader of the Noragami used Kuso only as another tool to buy time… or to use Takasugi in turn to get rid of Kuso a second time. But why? Why go to all that trouble?

Before he walked forward to go down the slope of the interior, he took a glance down below him, watching the battle that was going on. Despite the number of the Noragami who were alive and those that made up a majority of them, the Kiheitai and the Yato were on an equal par with them, managing to hold them at bay.

There was Bansai with his shamisen and his sword, furiously sparring with that young teenager who was knocking down all the soldiers around them with loud sounds stemming from his mouth and the wild whipping of his weapons. There was Matako with her guns, shooting madly but exactly at a man dressed entirely in black, with two twin katanas clashing with those bullets at every time. There was Kamui, along with his umbrella and happily knocking down his opponents with his enormous strength and dexterously bringing down a large Amanto with one swing of his kicks.

And then, there were all the bodies. All the corpses piling up high or burning or melting into puddles on the dark slope of the mountain.

"All this for one woman. It's rather a bit much, isn't it, Takasugi Shinsuke?"

Takasugi met eyes with that shinobi woman from before. Shizuko… was she called? She had no weapons on her body (at least, none that were visible), and she didn't give off a killer's bloodlust. Her dark black eyes reflected a light that hadn't been there before as they hovered above the battlefield going down below them.

He only glared at her, and as if sensing his hostility she narrowed her black eyes back at him. "Why are you coming after her? She was the one who betrayed you, didn't she? So why go to all this trouble for her?"

"If she had truly betrayed me, then she would be dead by now."

"Then what is that woman to you?"

He flashed his blade at her, his eye glinting with annoyance. "Are you going to stand there and snap questions, or are you going to move?"

"You don't stand a chance against Master… much less, Yamyra."

He came forward and nudged his katana against her throat, his voice lowering dangerously. "Move."

"I've seen how you fight. I know you would have already killed me, but here you are, only telling me to move. Was that to her influence? If you came all the way here with that woman's help, then that means she was really connected to Yamyra. Doesn't that disturb you? The fact that they might have been… something in the past?"

With a start, Takasugi realized that she was only stubbornly questioning him because she was making sure that he was really coming for Shuyo to save her, not kill her when she was found.

"She is still safer with me than with you."

At his answer, she stared at him for another long moment then shoved his blade at her neck to the side, ignoring the line of blood she drew at the action.

She turned on her heel and motioned for him to follow. Whether she was betraying her so called master, or whether she was acting of her own will, he didn't know. But it was a risk he was willing to take.

His hand rested on the hilt of his katana, which would be quick to draw if anything happened.


Shuyo blinked. Blinking in the light sunlight which was everywhere, warm and comforting on her skin and breathing in the fresh air from that of an unpolluted, mountain-side town. There was a mountain covered with sakura trees, and simple paths seen beyond the wall of what looked like a school wall… By the look of the sun's position in the sky, it looked as if it was nearing the afternoon. Was it spring?

No… more like, where was she?

"Shuyo? Is something wrong?" that voice. She turned to see her brother, whole and alive, smiling at her, his hands in his grey haori sleeves.

"Onii-sam-," she mouthed, and startled at the audible words coming from her mouth. She… she could speak? She quickly touched her hands to her throat, fingering it, trying to trace for the scars that had been with her for centuries… and paused, her eyes widening at the smooth, unblemished skin under her fingers. She traced her neck repeatedly, almost frantically. There was no mistake – they were gone.

Her scars were gone, and she still had her voice. What did that mean? What was going on?

Her grey eyes wide, she looked around her quickly, taking in her surroundings. The neat, solid walls surrounding the wooden dojo and temple house used like a school, and the laughter of children in another room filled the air.

"This place… this is… Shoka Sonjuku…? Why am I here? I thought I was just with Yamyra on Mt. Fuji…" she murmured, puzzled.

"Mt. Fuji? What are you talking about, Shuyo?" Shoyou touched a hand to her arm, and she jumped at the contact. His hand was solid and warm on her arm. She could feel his warmth permeating through her own grey haori, and touch his skin, as if he was real. In the back of her mind, she knew that he couldn't be real. Her brother was already dead. Had been for several years.

So why and how…?

"Oi Shoyou! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to find Shuyo-," Shuyo turned at the lazy voice of a young boy behind her, and looked down in shock at a young Gintoki, who stared up at her in his blank, dead-fish-like stare. "Geez, what are you doing here? The brats are looking for you, you know."

She stared down at him, then at her brother, emotion welling up in her throat as she collapsed onto the wooden floor, tears streaming from her eyes. Confusion was swallowing her mind, but more than anything, she felt… relieved, comforted to see them once more. She thought that she was never going to see them again… but here they were, in front of her eyes, whether they were real or not.

"O-oi… Shuyo, you okay? Shoyou, what happened?" Gintoki stammered, crouching down next to her kneeling form and peering at Shoyou, who was cradling her arms carefully, looking worried.

"Gintoki, would you please go and tell the others to wait for Shuyo-sensei? She'll be there soon."

"U-uhn." He answered, and walked off.

Shuyo continued to cry against her brother's chest, covering her face and almost refusing to believe that this was real. But it felt just like her brother. Sounded just like her brother. Smelled and looked just like her brother.

"Shh…" he patted her head and waited until she stopped, smiling down at her. He didn't ask what happened, and didn't pry. He only said, "You were such a crybaby when you were a child, too… crying because of a bad dream during the night. Did you have a bad dream, Shuyo?"

She wanted to say that it was a dream. That everything that happened was a bad dream and that this was reality. That she was alright now. But it wasn't– because what was happening right now was –

"Shuyo… you've been dreaming a very bad dream. But now you're awake." His reassuring voice cut through her convoluted thoughts, suddenly severing all the worries she held onto. His voice rang aloud in her mind, clearing away everything she was confused about, and leaving her with only one clear thought. It was like a calming tune she could listen to all day. Both soothing and alleviating her pain, grief and burdens…

And…

And…

She blinked, and looked confusedly at the water trailing down her face. Oh… what was she thinking about?

"You're right, Onii-sama… I must have been having a nightmare."

He smiled at her. "Yes. A nightmare."


Yamyra gazed down at the sleeping woman, whose face had lapsed into that of a tranquil one as time passed. It was rather satisfying to know that she would continue to look peaceful, and would always stay that way.

He observed her, from the nestled crook in an igneous rock, solid from cooled lava, dressed in black from top to bottom. A black kimono, a black cloak, gloves and sandals. A black Tengu mask adorned his face instead of the pale white mask that he usually had on.

The heat around them was suffocating, but not unbearable. It wasn't an understatement. After all, they were at the heart of the mountain, and right above the solid, heated lava… which was also the place where the Noragami's 'master' was at – deep within the heart of the wooden temple wall Shuyo was leaning against.

He prepared everything, including the stage, the main character and the perfect plot to go with the game.

All that I need now are the proper supporting actors…

His sensitive ears heard footsteps in the distance.

…who should be here…

Footsteps that approached, coming closer.

…at any moment.

"You've kept me waiting… my little samurai."

He didn't turn around to know that he was there, with his weapon already drawn and then coming to a standstill, about a few feet from Yamyra. He smelled of blood and gore, but Yamyra realized that he had had some help in coming here to have evaded most of the guards and traps.

"Your little servant was what delayed me. If you were waiting for me in the first place, then maybe you should have kept him dead when I killed him in the beginning." Was Takasugi's reply.

"You don't seem to be surprised by how he was resurrected, then. Did you know? He had been powerful enough to retain leadership in the Noragami for a century, and you killed him. Twice. What does that make you?"

"All you did was throw a measly bone in the direction of a beast who needed to bite into the head of his prey, not a pathetic limb."

Yamyra let out a short bark of laughter, finding it amusing to continue conversing with this man. "Even still, he was an important figure within our circle. Kuso, the wielder of death, and named after a lesser known, minor god of the underworld. The others are the same. Shizuko, Matsuiro, Jorugumo. They're all strays from their past life from which the Noragami picked up and brought in – comprising of stray gods who would serve the same master – the heavens. And once that time comes, we will join him within those very same heavens and rule over the mortal world, as it once was when the world began."

Yamyra heard the sharp intake of his breath and the crumbling of sandals scratching onto the rocks under them when he slipped into a fighting stance at the sight of an unconscious Shuyo leaning against the wall.

"Don't worry. She hasn't been sacrificed… or touched. Yet, that is." Yamyra spoke in a low voice and slowly stood, his clothes rustling in a swish as he swiveled around to face Takasugi.

He stared at him. Takasugi Shinsuke, a young man who had dared to rebel against the superiors of the world and tried to rise above his own standing. A young man who lived by the sword and would die by it. A pathetic, meek and weak man whom he harbored deep… resentment for.

"I don't understand why she cares for you so much. Enough to die for. Why was it you, Takasugi Shinsuke?" his voice was questioning, but full of loathing for this man. Yamyra opened his right palm and a dark smoke started to rise from it, spreading out into a thin line and started to take shape and solidify into that of a large black scythe.

"Why was it you?" with that last echoing question making his voice crack, he raised his weapon high over his head, screaming.

The first time their weapons clashed, a loud vibrating echo resounded through the interior of the mountain, shaking the dark walls and making the rocks shelve and crack.

"What did you do to her?" Takasugi snarled, using his left hand against the flat side of hid blade to push against the giant scythe.

Pressing his scythe against the katana in response, and pushing him back, Yamyra said, "She's somewhere already far beyond your reach. You won't be able to save her this time. No… was it that you will lose her… and Shoyou once again? Since they're both almost the same to you – and of the same soul?"

"You bastard-," Fury crossed Takasugi's face in a flash and he lunged, trying to go in for the kill. Uneasiness tinged the anger that he felt – an uneasy curiosity filling his mind as to how well his adversary knew of his emotional state.

Yamyra laughed, mocking him openly as he easily blocked the swings or dodged each and every one. "You're feeling lost without her. Lost, angry, confused and loathing. Just like you felt ten years ago, consumed by rage and hatred when you saw Shoyou die in front of your eyes. When you could do nothing but see his head lop to the ground and his body burned to return to the Earth. You felt helpless, vulnerable, weak, unable to anything and felt that you killed him with that powerlessness of yours – in the same way your friend swung his sword. At the very least, she was gone before you could even try to save her. Saves you all the trouble of that superfluous grief, no?"

Takasugi pulled back and engaged in a wild, enraged meeting of blades with the Noragami, clenching his teeth. Shoyou was the one card that anyone could play and ruffle him with. Adding Shuyo to that was enough for him to almost lose his proper sanity during the battle.

Yamyra tsked, waving a finger as he swirled his scythe in his other hand and making Takasugi edge away in order to evade the large crescent blade. "So touchy, touchy… you humans are so erratic when it comes to your obsessions with people around you. Why, you're already consumed with your obsession and hatred, trying to wipe out an entire country and bring it to the ground… along with your former comrade just for your… sensei. Why not use that hatred for a better cause instead…?"

Takasugi's new opponent was more annoying than the first. He was pushing all of his buttons, and not in a way that he would ever allow another being to do in front of him. And he wasn't able to cut him down… yet.

He answered, "I am nothing like you are. I seek to destroy this world, and all you want is to take a hold of it. I see much less worth in trying to control a corrupt world like this."

"Then you are as young as you look, little samurai-," Takasugi swung in a straight lunge, and when Yamyra was about to leap back, he deftly twisted his katana in his grip, plunging its edge into Yamyra's left leg. Yamyra swung the black weapon in a straight arc, forcing him to jump back and pull his katana out. "I see that you don't like that particular nickname… or is it just because she's not the one saying it, that you're so irked?"

"Are you Noragami always this loquacious when you're fighting, or is it just you and that piece of shit?"

Yamyra's laughter filled the cavernous place, and then the black figure vanished from Takasugi's eyes. It was impossible to track his movements with his eyes, but relying on his senses as he did with Kuso didn't work – he was only barely able to block the incoming kick to his stomach with his arms. The kick sent him spiraling and crashing into a large boulder, which made a large dent, splitting it like a rain of rivers into pieces.

"Tell me, little samurai… what's to stop me from killing you right now when I could have the moment you stepped into this place?" Yamyra stepped closer, twirling his scythe in his hand merrily. "The reason you're still alive, the reason your Kiheitai and everyone else in this world has been alive yet till now was because I, because Master allowed it to be so."

He ran at Takasugi and kicked out a leg, punting him so that he flew across the cavern, slamming into the wall.

Takasugi clenched his hands tighter around his katana's hilt, despite having all what remained of the oxygen in his lungs rushing out. As he slid down the craggy wall, he glared through his blurry vision at the black figure approaching him. He was being treated like a damn child at the hands of this monstrous Noragami.

After the impact, Takasugi only had a split second to move out of the way when Yamyra brought his scythe down in a swoop, stabbing hard through the wall and into the ground. The mountain rumbled beneath them in a disastrous prequel. It was clear that if the fight kept up for a long time… the mountain would burst first before either of them was able to run through the other.

Sparks and vibrations rang out each time their blades met, and the heat inside escalated with each cracking of the rocks.

Yamyra could already see Takasugi's body wearing out with every move he made against Yamyra's excessive blows… and sighted the gash on his side and smell the faint scent of Kuso's poison on it. It wasn't deadly, but it was enough to numb one's nervous system and prevent the person from sensing their surroundings properly and induce other unwelcome symptoms. By the looks of it, the poison was slowly settling in and taking effect.

He pondered to himself about that dead Noragami. Despite failing to stop Takasugi, Kuso had certainly made it easier for him to deal with Takasugi with his dying breath. At least that worthless thing was useful as a tool, in the end.

But if there was one thing that did not die down even after the physical body was being battered down, it was the hatred swelling up in waves of turmoil within that one eye.

It reflected the hatred of a man who loathed the person in front of him with all his strength and soul, adding to the deeper, older one against the world which had abandoned that which he had cared most for.

And Yamyra would use that to its full extent... very well.

Smiling under his Tengu mask, he lightly stepped out of reach from Takasugi's sword and shook off his glove, dropping it to the ground. He made a quick slash on his wrist and let the blood run into his palm, pooling into a dark red before the wound closed.

This would take only a second to accomplish.

Having Takasugi worn out and wounded made it only easier to do. Disarming him by kicking the hilt of the katana and throwing it away into the cracked rocks, Yamyra did not hesitate and punched Takasugi, three times – once across the cheek, another across his other cheek, then finally an uppercut to the chin. He had punched him so hard that Takasugi stumbled and ended up sprawled on the ground, his lips and nose bleeding badly.

When he finally opened his mouth to breathe, blood running down his battered face, did Yamyra close in. Yanking his head back, he dripped the dark blood which had been in his palm into the man's mouth, whispering as each drop disappeared down Takasugi's throat, "Now… welcome, my new leader, to the Noragami."

Yamyra looked down at the man as his eyes rolled back and he started convulsing, gasping for breath and clawing at his chest. Perhaps, because of the young man's nature, it would take a while for him to become nicely submissive to the call of blood, he thought to himself, so he decided to sit down and wait for it to be over.

He sighed, tiredly and in relief as the scythe in his hand disappeared like smoke into the air. Blood stained his clothes and his kimono was ripped in several places, but it was nothing compared to the damage he'd wrought on Takasugi.

He smiled wryly, loving how easily everything was fitting in… like a puzzle piece lain out for a long time, which had taken him a long time to assemble. Glancing back at the place where Shuyo still sat, her eyes closed and her face calm, Yamyra laughed to himself.

With Shuyo was in his hands, reviving the Master was now a matter of time. Takasugi, who had been a thorn in his side and would also have been a bigger one in the future, was finally subdued when he stepped right into his trap—

The man who had been jerking on the ground, had finally quieted down and now lay still. It was only a little while till he was going to wake up. Breathing out a sigh, he came over to observe the new young Noragami wake up.

When Takasugi slowly opened his right eye, he smiled in his familiar, insane manner, then rolled his face to look up at Yamyra… and smashed a fist into the masked face with enormous force.


"W-wha—how?!" Takasugi enjoyed the taken aback tone the Noragami took as he staggered away, clutching his broken mask and barely covering his face with a kimono sleeve. "You shouldn't be moving of your own accord now! All that hatred should have been enough for my blood to trigger your death and revival – so how are you-,"

"So that's how you were able to 'recruit' your precious slaves. Your troops' uncanny characteristics to just plain corpses and those other leaders' abilities… it's all connected to their state of being dead and yet alive. It's because they thrive on your blood, isn't it? And the only way that you can give your blood to revive them after they're once dead and into Noragami is when they are consumed by a strong emotion, like hatred." Takasugi commented after he stretched out his fingers and watched the blood welling up from his torn skin. He quickly got up and turned to find his katana, picking it up from the rocks.

Blood coated the inside of his mouth, and he spit out a mouthful onto the ground, wiping what trickled from his nose and smirking at his shocked enemy.

"A psychological, emotional, physical process all rolled into one, which makes even a regular creature, whether they are dead or alive into a Noragami... So that's your ability as the true leader, hm?" he raised his katana once more above his head, placing the edge of his blade on his left arm and readying to continue the fight.

"But if there was one thing that you didn't understand… no, if there was one thing that either of you didn't understand till now," his gaze flicked to the still form of Shuyo from far away and softened, but his voice was steely. "It was that misunderstanding about this hatred I hold within me. True, I have never chained this beast of mine and let it howl the way it wants, and let this hatred of mine go wild. I thrived on it and let it fuel me in each action I took, in each breath I breathed. But I have never, ever let it control me to the point where I was consumed by it and forgot who I was… though I would have, had not that cheeky woman reminded me again.

Amidst those burning flames

Sakura flourish their blazing branches

Flowering whilst catching afire

Tainting falling but never fading... lecturing me by saying that my greatest strength was going to become my greatest weakness when it comes to your lot, even though she knew she was going to end up like this… it was so like her." His voice quieted, almost wistful as he recollected her poem out loud.

"Y-you-!"

"So this time, it really was your loss… Noragami." With that, he lunged, more than ready to end this ridiculous fight.

But his blade never reached the Noragami. Takasugi's pace slowed to a steady stop when he saw the face that was revealed when Yamyra lowered his kimono.

It was just like coming face to face with Shuyo again when he first saw her months ago back in the outskirts of the city – when the shock and nostalgia came rushing back and made a knot at the back of his mind and throat, clogging it so that no words came out.

"It can't be…"

Yamyra smiled fully with teeth showing. His eyes crowed with this final card up his sleeve. "That's what Shuyo said too, before she fell into a never ending dream-,"

He was cut off when Takasugi threw his dagger at his head, then ran at him in a flash. Yamyra narrowly ducked and shifted away, hurriedly trying to materialize his scythe but failing when Takasugi stabbed his shoulder and pinned him to the ground.

He smiled down at Yamyra, showing teeth. Blood drizzled from his mouth and plopped onto Yamyra's pale face. "Did you think that I would stop to kill you if you had Shoyou-sensei's face, bastard? I won't fall for the same trick twice. You used that sort of card and gave it away when you made that illusion of Shuyo."

Stepping on top of Yamyra's chest with a knee, he raised his katana high above his head, his eye glinting with glee. "But if you really want to see sensei so badly, you can say hello to him in the otherworld in my stead."

He wasn't able to stop Yamyra from weakly raising his hand, and he didn't see the dark black mist rising from the middle of his palm until it was too late.

A dark smoke instantly surrounded Takasugi, rudely invading his nostrils, mouth and creeping into his ears. All he could see before his vision was clouded entirely, was that triumphant grin his opponent gave him with Shoyou's face.

"Have a nice dream, my little samurai…"

And then… all was black.


There is nothing sweeter than a never-ending dream.