Good evening, everyone. I'm well and alive, no worries.

Hope you're all faring well, too.

Just a little announcement. For now, considering how much I've written, the series will probably end by chapter 23. Whether it'll be longer than that, I'm not sure. Time and reality changes a person, and I've lost a lot of the willpower and enthusiasm I once had to write anymore.

But for now, I hope you still enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: Gintama does not belong to me


Takasugi blinked. Well, at least, he blinked right before something came smashing onto his head. He toppled backwards and hit the smooth wooden – wooden? – ground, his head throbbing.

"Oi, oi, what the hell are you doing, Takasugi? Have you lost your mind already and decided to lose to this Gintoki-sama?" he looked up at the familiar swaggering voice and came face to face with a young silver-haired boy in bogu and holding a shinai against his shoulder.

Frowning, he quickly got up, rubbing his forehead and noticed… that his hands were smaller. His bigger and wider hands with skin hardened from holding a sword for so many years were replaced by smaller ones which looked scratched as if from handling kendo equipment recklessly.

And instead of his kimono and haori… he was wearing black hakama and a light colored hakamashita, and above that, protective bogu. He could feel the solid roughness of the tattered hilt of the shinai in his right hand that he picked up unconsciously instead of the larger hilt of a katana.

The air was filled with the shouting cries of children who were busy sparring amongst themselves and the lousy chirping of crickets outside. Was it summer?

And he could see… from both his eyes.

"Oi, Takasugi, are you alright?" He turned at a rather familiar voice, belonging to… Katsura? "You took that one fairly hard. You hardly let Gintoki hit you nowadays in such a blind manner. Maybe you should take a break about now and have it looked at?"

He was drawing everyone else's attention as he just stood there, staring at his surroundings. By the looks of it, he was… he was back in the dojo at Shoka Sonjuku. From more than fifteen years ago. This all felt too real to be an illusion, but as far as he knew, he knew that no one had the ability to send someone into the past—even if it was someone who had enough power to resurrect the dead.

"Ohya, what is the matter here?" At the voice, Takasugi froze in his tracks.

No. It couldn't… be.

With a trembling hand and a dreading heart, Takasugi slowly turned… and raised his eyes to see him.

Shoyou, who was as alive as he was in his memories, was there in front of him, wearing a grey hakamashita, a black hakama and bigger bogu suited for an adult. "Shinsuke, you have a very impressive mushroom on your head – did Gintoki put it there?"

"S-sen… Sensei…" he murmured, and Shoyou tilted his head, smiling amusedly.

"Yes?" Shoyou leaned forward to inspect the bump closer. "Does it hurt, Shinsuke? Shall we have Shuyo look at it?"

"Shuyo? Is she here? What—where is she?!" at his sudden outburst, the children around them stared at him in curiosity. Even Shoyou looked a little baffled.

Gintoki sauntered up to him. "Why the hell are you so surprised? Shuyo's always been with us with Shoyou, right? Or has the recent fight really hammered your head so you can't remember?"

"To have hit him so he temporarily had his memories rattled… Kotarou, I hope you don't mind bringing Shinsuke to Shuyo so she could take a look, hm?" Shoyou gently put a hand on Takasugi's shoulder, pushing him forward towards Katsura.

"Of course, sensei." Katsura put down his equipment and quickly grabbed onto Takasugi, pulling him towards the door. "Let's go, Takasugi."

He ripped out of Katsura's hold, drawing back and pressing his fists together hard enough to draw blood. "This isn't it. This is… what is this? What the hell is this?! What's going-,"

"Shinsuke." Big, warm hands came behind him and clamped down on Takasugi's shoulders. It was strange. All of this felt too strange. There was no way that a dream could feel so real, and yet…

"Shinsuke." Shoyou's warm voice drew him out again from his thoughts. "Shinsuke, you look like you've been having a bad dream. Are you alright? Was it that scary?"

Such familiar words… and such a nostalgic expression on a face he knew of so well… and such a haunting voice that came around his hearing and wrapped around his mind. It was like a blanket came over his mind and started to smother it, covering up something that was extremely important for him to know.

"Shinsuke. You've been having a bad dream."

A dream…? The question roamed his head again and again as he was led by a stern Katsura to the room where Shuyo supposedly was. He was feeling numb, as if he'd had all the energy sucked out of him after falling into a long, deep hole that he couldn't get out from.

"Shuyo-sensei, Shinsuke got hurt, so Shoyou-sensei told me to bring him to you."

Had everything which happened… was happening… had it all truly been a dream?

He lifted his head and saw Shuyo. Shuyo… as she was, as the way he remembered. Shuyo, who looked exactly like Shoyou, with the scars ravaging her throat, and smiling kindly, but wearing a woman's white kimono and a grey haori, and had her hair tied into a low ponytail that was slung over her left shoulder. The new womanly look fit her so well that he just stopped and stared.

She got up from her kneeling spot, putting down her large painting brush and picked up her smaller writing brush and notebook. Opening it, she wrote, Where are you hurt, Takasugi?

As he was only able to open his mouth and stared, Katsura sighed, answering for him. "Gintoki hit him on the head, hard."

I can see that Gintoki was as ruthless as ever, hm? Does it hurt, Takasugi?

He could only nod, but kept silent. He could see, smell, touch and hear everything around him – including Shuyo. She felt real…

So was this side… truly reality?

He flinched as Shuyo patted the cotton on the bump formed on his forehead and started disinfecting it.

She smiled just like the one he knew, wrote and acted just like the one he knew, certainly.

No… this was Shuyo. And it is. A foreign voice whispered to his mind.

But there was something about this entire place that egged him in a way. It felt so real to the exact detail of everyone's features, personality and way of speaking, like his memories had become reality so that he was being sucked in, but it felt… wrong.

He was so confused… and then he felt the trickling of something slippery from his fingers.

"Takasugi, you're bleeding-,"

He looked down at the crimson rivulets stemming from the crescent-shaped scrapes in the middle of his palm and stared. He had been digging into his palms way too hard and had eventually drawn blood.

As he watched the blood trickle down and drop in drops to the ground, splashing the clean wood, a sudden pain ran through his head and he dropped the shinai, clutching his head.

He started to shake and tremble as thousands of memories, waves of emotions and everything that happened before ran through his mind freshly like a katana cutting through flesh.

The first time he had actually sparred with Gintoki; his first conversation with Shoyou; the first time he'd been hit by Shoyou …all the times in their childhood, adolescence, early teenage years – the good and the bad, the fun times and the bitter times; the Kansei Purge, Joi War and the Kiheitai; Shoyou's death and the hatred that rose; imprisonment; elusion; the revival of the Kiheitai; his deals with the Harusame; death; blood; all the long evenings he spent alone…

And everything about his time with Shuyo.

He brought his bloody palm to his mouth and licked it, savoring the salty, coppery taste. At that first lick, the background shuddered and started cracking. Even the Shuyo in front of him trembled violently and cracked like a doll.

As he said the words out loud, a sudden melancholy overtook him and he shivered. "So this really is an illusion…"

But that wasn't important. Now that he knew what was going on, he had to go back. And the only reason he could think of as to why the Noragami had dropped him into an illusion like this… was to distract him until the Noragami could go in for the kill.

And to avoid that, well… "This is going to be interesting." He murmured, and closed his eye.

Even if his mind was stuck in this dream-like state, if his body was properly connected to his mind in the real world, it must be still holding onto his real katana. So if he used it –

Immediately, blood red filled his sight, answering his self-inquiry.

He grinned to himself as his surroundings shattered into thousands of pieces and his vision blurred into a red hot, hazy rocky background of a cave and with blood slipping down his arm from the blade that was drenched with it.

This was the world that he belonged to. He didn't belong to the place from his memories, surrounded by laughing children nor with the sensei and those he cared for the most in the world. He was no longer the Takasugi Shinsuke Shoyou might have known him as anymore.

He had chosen to coat his hands with blood and continue along the path that he'd chosen with Shoyou's death, and no matter how many illusions or dreams the world around him presented him with, that fact would never change.

"You should have known already that your weaving of illusions is nothing compared to the real memories I hold. How pathetic. Even though you put all that effort into it and were about to kill me since I would be of no use while I was preoccupied, you failed miserably." Takasugi firmly gripped his katana and watched the blood drip along the blade, watching the reflection of his enemy struggle to get up with the wound in his chest slowly healing.

"Three times," he murmured before he dashed across the uneven ground and slashed at the staggering Noragami, who barely had his own weapon appear into his hands to block the first clash. "The first was in your leg."

His arms clenched the katana with both hands and went at his opponent recklessly, not giving him a moment's respite to come back with an attack. "The second, in your shoulder. The third, across your chest."

Every time the Noragami shifted and tried to dodge, Takasugi lunged even harder, parrying and stabbing at him with a renewed frenzy, laughing – almost enjoying the situation to its best. "They say the third time's the charm, Noragami. So I think it's about time that you die already."

If only he could see himself reflected in Yamyra's red eyes – he would have seen an ominous beast enjoying the remnants of a hunt with every inch of his existence, smiling madly.

"So you broke out of my spell in such a short time… I underestimated you. Even Shuyo hasn't been able to break free yet-,"

"Do not dare to compare me with her. Shuyo is different," He snapped, and the katana flashed in his hand. Next, a grunting shout filled the cavern as an arm went flying into the air. "And I don't suppose that even you can grow back an arm once it gets cut off."

Yamyra – with Shoyou's face – frowned, "You can say such a thing, even though you don't know anything about her?"

"Shut up, bastard."

"She'd be sad, if you killed me now, you know," ignoring whatever came out of his mouth, Takasugi came forward, his eyes glinting without any mercy. The Noragami added with a mocking smile which dared him to continue, "Since you killed her first disciple."

He didn't stop in his stride but did slow down, reeling as he took in this new information. The Noragami continued, "Which do you think would be of more value to her – her first disciple, or the man who caused her so much pain just by being next to her? You, who destroyed everything that she held dear, that her brother held dear and still go on a rampage… or me, who knows everything about her from these hundreds of years I've known her?"

"Are all of you just fucking stalkers in this group, rambling about how well you know her just because of the long time you've been acquainted, or are you just all such potent liars?" Takasugi pointed the katana and just lightly stabbed into the place where Yamyra's heart was, earning a wheezing cough. "I know that you lied about how Shuyo was a traitor and was with you all in the Noragami. Another ploy to make it apparently, easier, to get her away from me, though I don't see how it affects you in helping her."

Red eyes glinted up at him with confusion mixed with pure loathing. "What are you— she, she left you behind because she knew that you would never be able to defeat us at your current condition – you, who were only a living shell reflecting that hatred inside of you. She knew that hatred would be your downfall and didn't—,"

Takasugi interjected by punching Yamyra savagely, then stabbed into his chest so that his enemy was pinned to the ground, "The reason that she left me behind, you imbecile, is not because she didn't trust me with this hatred of mine, nor because she thought that she was being the perfect savior by sacrificing herself."

He barked out a mad laugh as he raised his katana over his head, "She left me behind because she knew that I would be able to kill you by using this hatred of mine as another blade and destroy the Noragami for good."


Shuyo couldn't stop laughing quietly as she watched the triad of troublemakers squabble with each other, yelling and pulling punches and arguing madly about who was going to accompany Shoyou—

"You seem to be having fun, Shuyo," Shoyou joined her company, sitting next to her on the edge of the wooden floor that looked out into the small garden. "They get so well along with each other, no?"

She nodded. The sun was already setting, and the children had all (well, mostly all) had gone home, leaving the school to be empty of people except the five of them.

"Onii-sama-,"

"Oi, Shuyo, Shuyo!" the two turned at Gintoki's frantic yelling. He came yelling and stopped in front of Shuyo, his hands clasped with an open space, seeming like there was something inside. "Look at this-,"

He opened his palms, revealing a small purple-black butterfly resting inside, gently flapping its wings.

She smiled widely at the beautiful creature, reaching out to cup Gintoki's hands and peer closer. "Is this for me?"

"Well, you're always looking for things like this to draw, right? I thought you might like it, so…" the silver haired adolescent grinned, handing it to Shuyo, looking proud of himself.

"Oi, why the hell are you acting like you're the one who did all the work? You only caught it and brought it over when I spotted it!" Takasugi snapped, and Gintoki growled at him.

"They say finders, keepers, Takasugi. Besides, all you wanted to do was to see Shuyo-sensei smile like this, right?" Katsura pointed out, and the other boy blushed red. She smiled at him, and he couldn't meet her eyes, probably too embarrassed. And she found that fact extremely endearing.

"I see you can't keep your crush to yourself, Takasugi. Shuyo's much older than you, you know. There's no way that she's going to be interested in a little brat like you-,"

Shuyo startled as she watched the butterfly suddenly take off, the wind lifting its wings far into the air. Watching it fly away, it reminded her of… a familiar butterfly pattern of a purple kimono…

She blinked at the sudden image and frowned. What was that about?

"Shuyo?" the voice drew her out of her reverie, and she turned to her brother, who pointed to Gintoki, who had apparently spoken something.

"Yes? I'm sorry, Gintoki, I wasn't listening…"

"Actually, Takasugi asked whether you were willing to consider a child as a proper love interest.~" Gintoki drawled out, which was met by a mad punch to the back of his head. "But heck, you're way too short to even be called a man-,"

"I didn't say anything of the sort! Don't go off like that on your own, idiot!"

Shuyo laughed out loud at the adorable innocence of the children before her, joined by her brother and then, the three boys.

Reaching out, she patted the young Takasugi's head, smiling as she said, "The age or height of my love interest does not matter to me, Takasugi. As long as you can grow into a man who Onii-sama can be proud to call his disciple, then I-,"

She stopped again, frowning. Feeling as though the words were… repetitive. As if she'd said them before, but to another person… who had the same purple-black hair…?

"Shuyo? Is something the wrong?"

"No, it's nothing, Onii-sama."

But the strange feeling stuck with her throughout the entire week. Even as she got into teaching the children about the various arts existing in Japan and enjoyed talking with them, laughing with them, taking care of them…

Something continued to nag at the back of her mind, calling her, reminding her of something…

But what was it?

All she could gather from her thoughts was… bandages… a long red kiseru stuck between a pair of beautiful lips… and an intense orb of green that stared at her directly.

But… what was that all about? Was it someone, instead of something?

She shifted around on the futon to look over at Ginoki, who was sleeping with his clothes askew and opening his mouth in a loud snore. She got up and righted his blue yukata, then pulled the covers over him. Glancing over, she saw the other two troublemakers, Katsura and Takasugi sleeping soundly next to their friend, but she didn't see her twin anywhere else in the room. It was a normal afternoon in Autumn when Shoyou invited them, including her to take a nap when the afternoon lessons were done and after a bit of sword practice in the dojo. The five of them set to sleeping in their thin kimonos/yukatas in the largest room within the school and were all soon dozing off. Perhaps it had been about a few hours?

The sky had reddened to a crimson hue when she woke up and noticed her brother's absence.

Pulling her haori around her shoulders, Shuyo got up and opened the paper screen to look for her brother. He was standing up outside in the garden, staring into the sunset. He was so still that she might have mistaken him for a statue when she called out.

He slowly turned around, and the sight of the sun's red light spilling across his face, neck and clothes was so startling that she closed her mouth and stared.

It was just like… blood was splattering his entire body, covering him from head to toe. And that look in his eyes… it was not the look of the brother she loved.

"Oni—Onii-sama…?" she whispered, cautiously drawing back. When she blinked, her mirror was gone, and appeared again before her eyes, making her gasp.

The mirror smiled in front of her, holding up a bloodied, tattered and old green notebook with the words, I am you.

She frowned. "What are you-,"

It's a very pretty sunset, isn't it? It looks as if blood has been covering me. Blood-red; crimson, dark and unceasing. The stranger cupped the light in their palm, which made it look as if their hand was indeed cupping a bowlful of blood, shimmering in the red hue. Why are you so startled? You've seen it before. You've drenched yourself with it before. You've seen as I got covered with it before. And you continued to see it paint everything in front of your eyes with the same color.

"No… no, I – I haven't done – anything – like… of the sort…" her heart started thumping. Thumping hard and fast, whether it was with fear or the realization of something horrible… but true.

No? Then what is this? The stranger pulled down their kimono collar, showing her the livid scars surrounding them. As if someone had tried to lop their head off… then when she blinked, they disappeared. Or have you already forgotten this as well from playing in this pitifully made-up world?

She kept reeling backwards, until she hit the screen and slid down it, ending up on the ground. "But I…I've been here the entire time. And you—who are you? No… who am… who am I?"

I am you. And you are me. The stranger stepped closer and gazed into her eyes. It really was like staring into a mirror and looking at her own reflection. Remember. Mother told you to never forget who you were with the last of her breath, so remember. Remember who you are – who you were, who you will be and go forward. You swore that you would never forget. Even though I forgave you for everything… I told you never to forget.

Shuyo.

"Shoyou… Onii-sama…?" Tears rose in her eyes, and water covered her vision. Shame and grief at her own foolishness, and at seeing him again. For real, this time. This was her real brother. Her brother, who was speaking to her as a part of her soul and mind.

She smiled sadly at him and said, "This… so this is all a dream. It had all been a dream. Yamyra put me into a dream of illusions... but why would he act to that extent…?"

"—uyo-," She snapped her head up at the call which interrupting her thoughts. It wasn't a voice she'd heard of, ever before. But she knew without a fact that she had known it. The voice crackled, as if coming from far away, but it was undoubtedly calling for her.

"Shuy-," it was that voice again – though cut off in the midst of the call, but stronger.

"Who… are you?" she called out, and the voice only answered, "Shuyo-,"

Shoyou smiled at her, in his usual manner, in the way she always remembered. You already know who that is, don't you?

"Shuyo… Shuyo… Shuyo – Shuyo-!" it was like a magnet, a frantic voice filled with emotion, wrapping around her entire body and pulling onto her insistently, strongly.

It felt like everything in front of her eyes was slowly dissipating like mist. She reached for Shoyou with an agitated expression. If this was her last time with truly meeting her brother, then… but… he was calling for her. "Onii-sama, I…"

He smiled at her, returning her hold with fingers squeezing her hand, one last time. It was like she was grasping a real, but dream-like, wispy sprite. You already know what to do, Shuyo.

Shuyo nodded as her brother, the bleeding sunset and Shoka Sonjuku – everything shattered and dispersed in an instant.


Takasugi staggered, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering the black rocks below him. He righted himself, leaning on his katana for support and clutched his stomach, where a large, gaping wound decorated his skin. His body was racked with sudden coughs that brought more blood to his mouth and spilled forth. It was obvious that he had been hit in the lung, though breathing wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be.

After Takasugi had cut off Yamyra's arm, it was like something had seized the Noragami to fight even harder than ever as if in retaliation to Takasugi's declaration of killing him and the rest of the Noragami, and Takasugi had found himself being pushed back… to the point where he had fallen on his knees. Of course, it wasn't as if he hadn't given one hell of a fight.

He hacked blood from his mouth and wiped it with his broken arm. He could barely feel anything besides the pain and hatred pulsing throughout his body.

"There's no way that she would have asked you to kill me for her. To kill me… to kill her first disciple…? Even when I told her that she was everything to me…? Even when I…" Yamyra swayed from side to the side, a strange look in his eyes. It was as if his conscious – no, his sanity had snapped.

"Even when I saved her life…?"

Damn it, these bunch get so unstable. Takasugi rolled over and evaded Yamyra bringing his scythe down to the ground, ripping it up and widening the cracks he'd made just a minute ago. The mountain shook, and started to rumble from deep within as the cracks grew larger… and larger. Smoke and heat arose from those cracks, and bright yellow, molten lava started to rise.

The samurai leaned back from the range of the black scythe and tried his best to evade each succeeding blow. But the fight had gone on for too long, and it was taking its toll on his body, no matter how hard his will fought to remain standing.

The dark figure stomped closer, but slowly put down his scythe, where it disappeared from his palm. He smiled down at Takasugi, "She never told you, did she, about how she knew me, little samurai... I've known her… for hundreds of years… I knew her when she was a little child, too… when I first saw her…ha, ha. It must have been when we first came to Earth, searching for souls serviceable for Master."

"She was a wee thing, along with her brother… they couldn't have been more than 10 years old, but they looked and were of the exact same appearance and height. Back then, we didn't have Shizuko… but another woman, a human clairvoyant named Shirabuki… who led us to the Yoshida family… a family of a long line of samurai… heh. Even so, they lived as if they were of a lower class, with only a few servants, and in a regular merchant's house instead of that of a warrior's mansion… did you know? Our orders were to kill those twins, who already possessed souls superior to any samurai that existed. But watching that child… I, the leader of the Noragami at the time, refused to… because I was selfish, desiring to devour her soul for my own. There was something about her… that… was… almost captivating."

Despite the situation and of how inappropriate it was, a vein popped in Takasugi's forehead, and he glared, irritated. 'Lolicon' was the first word that appeared in Takasugi's mind. This was turning to be absolutely fucking ridiculous. How the hell had they suddenly jumped into this kind of situation?! He wanted to finish him off and shut him up already, but it was going to be difficult with this body of his at the current stage.

"So I killed her parents instead, taking on their abilities by eating their corpses and sacrificed their souls… in front of her and her brother's eyes. Then she killed the ones who killed her parents… with that katana."

Takasugi's eye widened in shock, and his body froze as Yamyra laughed out loud, "A funny thing, don't you agree? She was already sullied the moment she touched that katana and killed in cold blood. I watched as she slaughtered everyone in front of her… until her brother was able to stop her from killing any further. Only ten years, but what potential! Her killer's instinct awoke the moment she lost them… and she's scared for that instinct to arise again, which is why she forego to herself unconsciously never to kill again, lest it break her completely-,"

He shouted a battle cry and jumped at the creature, regardless of his own wounds. It was for both Shuyo – and Shoyou, who were the only beings in the entire world who could stain their hands with blood and be covered in darkness, but never, ever be called corrupt or tainted.

Yamyra cackled, and only lifted a foot to kick back Takasugi back to the place where he was lying down. "I see that you're similar to me. I once thought that, too. That she was a being that was impossible to ever taint… I revered her, loved her… hated her… all were the same to me. She was everything to me. She was my salvation, saving me from perpetual darkness and from losing my way… but she is also my downfall. And how can you taint that which is already tainted, hm?"

Yamyra stomped off, leaping over the cracks and stepped towards a sleeping Shuyo, who still showed no sign of waking up at all.

"Shuyo." It was a whisper that slipped from his mouth, barely heard out loud, even to his own ears. He couldn't move anymore. All the energy had been drained from his limbs, and a burning agony ransacked every one of his limbs and muscles. It would be impossible to fight already, much less get up to stop the Noragami. But he knew that she would be able to… if only, she could wake up.

And at his present state, all he could do was call for her… and hope that he would be able to reach her, "Shuyo… Shuyo… Shuyo… damn it, wake up, Shuyo-!"

"It's useless, little samurai. She's already far too gone. No one has been this long in my illusions and awakened before. No one has ever tried to awake because the illusion is better than the reality they live in. Now all we have to do is wait for-,"

This time, there were no comrades here to do anything with him or on behalf of him; his sensei was gone; and he was all alone to call out. He could only call this time for her himself. "Shuyo – Shuyo – Shuyo—Shuyo-!"

"Perhaps you were better off dead, little samurai. Sunk into utter despair, with your hate not even useful in helping you as you would have hoped…" Yamyra scoffed, laughing at him. "If she was here, Shuyo would have greatly lamented to see you like this, reduced to a-," he wasn't able to finish that sentence, and flicked up two fingers that caught the small dagger that flew in his direction.

"If it's that, then she's already done all the crying and the rest of the teary shit with me previously. And as for her not being here… you'd do well not to underestimate us samurai, bastard." With that, Takasugi fell backwards… his eye closing.

"Shuyo said the same thing – that I would get hurt if I did underestimate you all-," Yamyra paused in the middle of his sentence, his red eyes enlarging as he turned to see… "That's impossible…! How-,"

He was then slammed into the ground at the impact of a fist touching upon his head.

I warned you already, Yamyra... that you would get hurt if you underestimate them.


See you in the next chapter, and keep safe, everyone!