We're back! With another episode of Q&A featuring yours truly!
Okay but seriously though, thanks for the glowing reviews. Even the short ones. I actually have some responses for you if you're interested. Maybe I should take off the part about leaving suggestions though. I am quite stubborn in this regard, and I'm gonna write this story how I want.
Sistamara: To be completely honest, I had no clue I was going to write her like that. It really just came to me as I was trying to figure out how he'd end up leaving the Dream again, so I decided I would give her some depth and development. From there it took on a life of its own, so now she is momma in the story. Gives me a lot of possibilities to work with.
Guest: I know, right? Like, the anime didn't do the actual story justice and it's just got so many possibilities for adding layers of plot to the world. I was originally going to do a BB and RWBY crossover, but I haven't watched the show since I was a pre-teen so I'd need to catch up to see what to write about. I think the AKG universe is almost perfect for Bloodborne.
SirMaou: Yes, the silver balls shall be the main character of this story. We love Gintama appreciation.
Thaqif: Two things. One, I like stories where a lot of the details are inferenced from the reader's imagination, so I'll let you figure out the voices on your own. And two, I appreciate the suggestion, as that story didn't fill in the void of storytelling I hope this story will, but I will write this as I see fit. Yes, the Minister is a pathetic excuse of a human being. Yes, Esdeath is very willing to kill and maim to reach her goals (even if those goals are just to reach another fight). However, just so we are very much clear I have a plan already for the majority of the story, so if you're interested in sticking around to the end please do (btw the only one of the Jaegers I considered to be a scumbag was Stylish; the others had differing reasons as to why they did what they did, and most of them will get their redemptions).
So like, we ready? I am. Let's go.
Bloodborne is property of FromSoftware and Sony Corporation. Akame ga Kill is property of Square Enix and Takahiro. I only own this computer and other various belongings.
Chapter 2:
"People With Dark Pasts Can't Shut Up"
"No one told me I was going be starting in the fucking Cainhurst Woods," a shivering figure cursed to no one in particular.
Despite having recently ascended to near-godhood, he had no ability to protect himself from the winter chill that was tearing at him from all sides. His half-mask only served to deflect the biting wind directly into his eyes, and he could feel the frost covering his hat regularly slough off onto his shoulders with each step. Still, he kept walking, keeping his coat wrapped tightly around him as he continued along the path to the capital's checkpoint.
His Insight, thankfully, had remained with him even after leaving the dream, as did the little ones who faithfully carried his armory around through the astral plane; the retention of his knowledge seemed to have gained him the ability to see much farther than he had before, almost to the point of a hawk. With his enhanced foresight he was able to discern the fastest trail to the capital, cutting just enough of time out of his journey to stay sane in the freezing weather. "Couldn't have been at least below the snowcap level?"
Grinding his teeth to keep from chattering, he soldiered on.
Despite his complaints however, it seemed that his analysis had been false. Cainhurst had been frigid, but it was a deathly freeze with the scent of the reaper himself permeating through every nook and cranny. This climate, rather, was simply cold and natural, as he could still feel the life surrounding him as he trudged through ankle-high powder. He caught a few glimpses of wildlife chasing down prey here and there, and through gaps in the treetops he saw a sight that he welcomed with open arms.
The sun. 'Oh, praise be to the glorious giver of warmth,' he thought as he stretched his arms out in an attempt to soak up as much of the bright rays as he could. Even after his affinity for the moon had drawn him in, he still had longed throughout his Yharnam journey for a touch of sunlight. Speaking of, he felt the pressure on his back shift slightly, as though it were uncomfortable with his exposure to its rival body of light. At this he raised a quizzical brow.
"I don't know what you're thinking, but let a man have his moment of relief for once would you?" A feeling of haughty reluctance invaded his mind as the blade stilled, drawing a hearty chuckle from his throat as he planted his feet.
"I wonder what the Empire will be like. Didn't really pay attention to the way of life when I saw it in the dream. Just the city walls and streets." The hunter bent over, reaching for his feet as he felt his accumulated soreness slowly but surely disappear. "I mean, anything's better than Yharnam, right?"
He regretted those words the moments they left his mouth. Sure, the city had practically been out for his blood, but he had quite the fond feeling towards the place. The inhabitants—the sane ones at least—had been fairly welcoming and accepting of his foreigner status, and some of them even requested his presence quite often. A grin touched upon his face as he remembered a certain cranky old man asking if he'd care to share a bottle of fine Yharnam whiskey.
"I wonder if they made it out safely…" he trailed off, his face trading the fading smile for a dejected look of contemplation
Who was he kidding? He barely made it out of Yharnam alive, and he had the Dream to thank for that. None of the others would've had a second chance if a beast caught them on the streets. Before he could linger on the thought anymore though, he straightened up and shook his head lightly, clearing his mind of the past.
"Well," the hunter started as his spine popped, "I wonder how the Doll is doing." A thought crossed his mind, prompting him to draw the sword from his back and stare at it.
"Why am I talking to you like you're only here with me? You're part of her, right? Can't she see what's going on through you?" The only response he received was a faint flash of pale light. He snorted. "Don't tell me you're actually cross with me about me asking for a moment earlier?" No reply was given. Sighing, he sheathed the blade and moved to make his way down the mountain.
He had likely walked at least a good half mile before the snow began to clear and greenery surged around him. As he crossed into more mild temperatures however, a scent assaulted his nose: blood, and quite a bit of it. If the taste of iron was anything to go off, it was still fresh. Very fresh, in fact, as he could tell it had been drawn within the last quarter hour.
Taking a whiff of the air out of habit, he began to follow the scent, moving as silently as death himself. 'Human, too,' he thought before stumbling upon what seemed to be a trail of death leading down the beaten path. Some corpses were strewn about with various wounds indicative of a sword marking them. The blood he had smelt, however, was much more fresh than the stuff staining the grass around him. He could practically taste the lifeblood, and as he gagged at the scent he realized that said odor matched some of what was on the ground.
Crouching down to inspect the nearest body, he found various bits of jewelry and shinies clasped in the still-rigid hand. Bandits were quite prevalent in this day and age, it would seem. His ears picked up the slightest clash of blades farther down, and in a blur he made his way towards the source. As the scent began to thicken, his hearing started picking up on other various noises. Steel clashing with steel, shouting voices—all serving to confirm his suspicions. He picked up pace, only to reach a clearing moments later.
There, he was met with the sight of a group of armed men surrounding someone. Focusing, he could see it was a young man, fresh out of training if his mechanical movements of his weapon gave anything away. His brown hair was streaked with dirt and blood, and his green eyes were wide with dilated pupils. The hunter could see the boy was favoring his left leg, and another inspection revealed various wounds he had sustained on his torso and limbs.
"Just fork it all over kid. You got no chance left, so give us your stuff so you can go back home." The loud, sneering voice of one of the bandits irritated the Hunter's rather sensitive ears. He was already itching to shut him up, but the kid interrupted his planning process to respond. "You bastards think I'm going to give this to you for free?" he shouted back, shakily leveling his sword at the one who had spoken. "I've got a responsibility to my village, and I'd rather die fighting than give in to you cowards." He steadied himself, seemingly accepting his fate.
'He's brave,' the hunter thought. 'Might be stupid, but definitely has some spine.' He made to circle around the clearing, making sure to hide his presence completely (another trick he had figured out upon his arrival, albeit it was simply an improvement to his ingrained Hunter training) as he closed the distance between himself and the bandits.
"Tough for you, because we kinda don't care about your little village," the previous bandit taunted as the rest of them hefted their weapons. "But we do care about that sweet, sweet sack of coin you've got there." One of them let out a war cry, then they lunged at him.
"Fuck", muttered the hunter.
Tatsumi wasn't really prepared to die, but he wasn't ready to give up yet either. He could see his odds were practically in the dirt (and he was definitely going to be joining them soon), so he stood his ground and tried to keep the bandits back with his blade's berth. As they surrounded them, their ringleader shouted at him from behind the rest of his fellows.
"Just fork it all over kid. You got no chance left, so give us your stuff so you can go back home." His stupid sneer annoyed the young man, giving his rebuttal some much-needed energy.
"You bastards think I'm going to give this to you for free?" Tatsumi lifted his sword for emphatic effect, even as it shook in his grasp. "I've got a responsibility to my village, and I'd rather die fighting than give in to you cowards." At this, his mind drifted to Sayo and Ieyasu, briefly hoping they were safe and sound at capital before the leader's laugh brought him back to the current situation.
"Tough for you, because we kinda don't care about your little village." Tatsumi straightened his stance, bracing for the fight. "But we do care about that sweet, sweet sack of coin you've got there." Before he could say anything else, one of the bandits let out a shrill scream, and they all leapt at him. He grit his teeth, dug his heels—
And before he knew it, his surroundings had changed. He was encircled by the trees he remembered passing in his frantic scramble to escape the assholes who had robbed him, and as he looked around in confusion, his gaze met two wine-red eyes staring back at him.
"Mmph!" Tatsumi realized his mouth was covered by a hand belonging to the figure kneeling in front of him, but before he could make another noise a black gloved hand placed a finger in front of his face. His eyes widened, as his senses returned and he began to pick out the shouts of the nearby bandits, trying to find the young man who had simply vanished. Then, slowly, the hand covering his mouth eased off, allowing Tatsumi to draw a breath.
"Stay here," a rather deep voice whispered to him before the figure seemingly vanished without a sound. Tatsumi—not being one for thinking clearly—sat there stunned, before pushing himself off the ground and making his way back towards the voices.
As he pushed his way through the brambles and underbrush though, he heard the shouts stop for a split second before a rather shrill scream split the air and the shouting resumed—this time, much louder and in a much more frenzied state. He doubled his pace, and soon he could see the clearing through the branches barring his path. When he finally broke through the tree line his eyes shot open at the sight in front of him.
Tatsumi had seen fights and duels before, but this level of carnage was something else. What remained of the bandits had been scattered across the ground, limbs and torsos carved apart, heads severed cleanly from their respective bodies. What was most unnerving however, was the one figure left standing.
If Tatsumi hadn't felt his sword's hilt bounce on his foot as he dropped it, he would have thought he was in a nightmare. In the middle of the clearing surrounded by chopped limbs and covered in blood stood what Tatsumi would've sworn was Death himself. He wore a rather fashionable unbuttoned gray-black coat, with the lower end slightly blowing in the gentle breeze. A leather strap running from his right shoulder to his left underarm held said coat snugly against a vest with multiple buckles joining across his torso.
Then there were the braces adorning his forearms and lower legs, scuffed and covered in what seemed to be scratches—and teeth marks, if Tatsumi's trained eyes didn't betray him—as well as the well-worn hat that seemed to resemble withered feathers with its torn rear. He wore a plain facemask that matched the rest of his attire, as if to prevent any blood from smearing his face.
What really caught Tatsumi's attention was the sword the man held towards the ground, before he realized the man had his foot on the chest of the bandit leader. He hovered the tip of the blade over his throat, forcing the man to stay perfectly still so as to not slice it open. Tatsumi noticed the half of the blade closest to the sheath was wrapped tightly with cloth, and as his eyes drifted further he noticed strange symbols marking the entirety of the weapon.
"Your listening skills could use some work, kid," came that deep voice from earlier only this time it was speaking at a normal volume. Tatsumi froze, unsure how the man knew he was there. He swallowed, before managing a question.
"You killed them?" A slight nod was the only response, before the man knelt down beside the bandit he had pinned.
"I think you owe this young man a rather sincere, and heartfelt apology." The man spluttered back at him, before the sword dug slightly into his neck. His eyes widened and he froze, until the other man lessened the pressure on his neck. The bandit leader turned and screamed frantically at Tatsumi.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please let me go!" His eyes flicked between the young man and the figure holding him down. "Don't leave me to him! I beg of you!" Tatsumi froze, unsure of what to say until the man in black's voice seemed to float to him from across the clearing.
"Well, kid?" His eyes flicked to Tatsumi, that same blank wine-red gaze fixing the boy with an expecting look. "He's asking for your forgiveness." Tatsumi shook his head to clear his thoughts, looking back up to see the man in black still staring at him. "What's the verdict?" he asked in a disinterested tone.
Tatsumi was speechless. A moment ago this man was taunting and trying to kill him for some money, and now he held his life in his hands. His mouth hung slightly open as he thought about it, until the man in black sighed annoyedly. "Fucking hell," he cursed before cleaving the man's head from his shoulders in an instant. Tatsumi jumped back at the sudden movement before watching the man flick the blood free from the blade, the red liquid sliding cleanly off revealing no nicks or scratches. As he sheathed the blade on his back, the man began to walk towards Tatsumi, causing him to scuttle backwards in fear.
The man paused, staring at him with blank eyes before lowering his head and letting a short bark of laughter out.
"Easy there. I'm not all slice-and-dice, kid. Here." He reached into his coat and pulled out what appeared to be a small box with a caduceus emblazoned on it. "You shouldn't be walking with those injuries. I'll help patch you up." Tatsumi felt something slightly sticky drip down his leg before remembering he did indeed hurt quite a bit all over, as he looked down to see blood flowing evenly from various wounds. Before he could stumble and fall as the adrenaline wore off, the man had quickly stepped forwards and hoisted Tatsumi's arm around his neck before walking him slowly over to a fallen tree.
With the rush of battle slowly draining away, Tatsumi barely kept from toppling over as the man gently sat him down. "Well, well, you certainly are a fighter," he complimented the young man before following up with, "Even if you don't have a good sense of self-preservation." Tatsumi fixated the man with an offended look, earning a snort in return.
"Hold still," was all he got as a warning before something wet burned his right knee.
Tatsumi grit his teeth and held back a cry of pain. It hurt like hell, but he had felt worse—not more than a couple minutes ago, in fact—and he wasn't about to let this stranger have a bad first impression of him. He had already insulted him by calling him stupid, right? Or maybe he had a poi—
"You did good with what you had, kid." The man's voice startled him out of his thoughts, almost missing what he said. Had he read his mind? "I saw the bodies you left behind on my way over." He whistled before continuing, "How long was the chase?" Tatsumi hesitated, unsure of what the man meant.
"You couldn't have been going too fast with these injuries," the stranger continued, never looking up from bandaging Tatsumi's leg. "You remember how long you were running?" At this he reached into his box and grabbed a rather thin—but scarily sharp-looking—knife. Tatsumi started to panic, his exhausted mind thinking the man meant to stab him until he cut the end of the bandaging material and tucked it into the rest of the wrapping. Turning back towards the box he snapped it shut and slid it back into his coat.
"Come on now, I can't be that frightening. Take away the blood and armaments and I'm just some guy in a coat." His eyes were on Tatsumi now (how did he seem to move so quickly without him noticing?) and had a look in his eyes that indicated he was somewhat annoyed waiting for the answer, especially if that quirked eyebrow of his had anything to say.
"I don't know," came Tatsumi's response. "I was running for a while is all I know." He nervously glanced around at the massacre they were sitting next to.
"I was traveling with my friends to the capital and these guys ambushed us, so we split up thinking they'd be too confused to follow any of us." He shook his head in regret, before leveling his worried gaze with his savior. "I think they all saw I had a bunch of supplies and took off after me." Still the eyebrow remained raised causing Tatsumi to feel as though he was being judged somehow.
"What?" he asked defensively. The constant gaze was really starting to get to him, as the mans eyes seemed to have the liveliness of a dead fish. The stranger held the silence between them for another moment before sighing, his shoulders lowering slightly.
"You should've just dropped it and ran." At this Tatsumi felt his ears and face heat up in annoyance. How was he supposed to leave all his supplies behind and make it to the capital without dying of starvation? "Not only would you be faster, but you wouldn't have had them on your tail, and I wouldn't have had to intervene." Tatsumi's mouth fell open, shocked that he was being berated for trying to think rationally in his situation.
"You—what?!" Words did not come so easily to his mouth as did emotions to his mind, as his mouth opened and closed in a manner uncannily like a fish (ironic considering who was still staring at him). Stopping himself from spluttering anymore, he managed to ask, "You think I should've just dropped all my food and money and ran off into the forest? What the hell kind of logic is that?!" The man just stood up and sauntered over to one of the corpses he had left on the floor.
"No shit," came his reply, slightly muted as his back was to Tatsumi, obscuring the boy's view of whatever the man was inspecting on the body. "Aren't you from these mountains anyways? You should be able to survive off the land here. It's not that far from your village, right?"
Tatsumi had a retort ready to fire back, but another thought took its place. "How do you know that?" This made the man freeze for a moment before fixing the teen with a bored stare. "Just a guess," he replied. "Your supplies seem relatively untouched, so you're either really good at rationing or you left earlier today." This made sense to Tatsumi, as he reached for his bag to check if everything was still inside. He rummaged around inside and found all his foodstuffs accounted for, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief before realizing something was missing—something not in the bag.
He dropped the bag and shakily stood up prompting the man to start forward, saying, "Easy, easy. I wouldn't be trying to walk right now." Ignoring his cautioning, Tatsumi limped to the center of the clearing. He felt panic start to set in as his search turned frantic, his legs straining to move without ripping the bandages that held them together. As he knelt down slowly to search the bodies still lying about, he registered the voice of the stranger asking him, "The hell's got you in a hurry?"
"My protection idol is gone," he answered back. After finding nothing on the body in front of him he stood up—albeit with a struggle—and turned to see the man standing there with his eyebrows raised (were they stuck or something?). "Our chief gave it to me as gift before we left. He said—" Tatsumi grunted in pain as he limped over to check the next body.
"He said that the gods would protect me if I kept it on me," he finished before crouching down and inspecting another bandit.
Tatsumi didn't realize just how quietly the man could move until he felt a hand on his shoulder causing him to jump slight, before regretting it when his body ached even more. Before he could say anything, the man said, "You know, I don't know if you noticed but I don't think there were any gods around to keep these bastards off you." He started stroking his chin in an emphatic effort, an action Tatsumi found rather annoying. He shrugged the hand off his shoulder before moving on to the next body. He heard an overly dramatic sigh issue itself from behind him before that voice floated in again, as nonchalantly as the breeze that ruffled Tatsumi's hair in that moment.
"I'm just saying that your little doll can't have been that beneficial." He was wanting more and more to hit this asshole as he kept talking. Another sigh came, followed by, "You're walking around on barely useable legs, with roughly made bandages that aren't meant for movement, and you also haven't exactly kept a lot of your blood on the inside." Turning around, he realized the man was gone before looking back in the direction he was moving and coming face-to-face with said stranger.
He growled and took a step forward with the intent to give this jerk a piece of his mind when his foot landed on something solid. Both of them looked down and saw a carved piece of wood wedged firmly under Tatumi's left foot, causing Tatsumi to let out a triumphant, "Ah-ha!" before leaning down to reach for it. This was a mistake, as his leg gave out and he fell forward—right into the stranger's grasp, somehow (how fast was he?).
"Like I said." Tatsumi felt his ears burn in embarrassment as his arm was once again draped around the man's shoulder for support. "You shouldn't be walking so much just yet."
"I was trying to pick that up."
The man scoffed. "Not at that speed, you weren't." He reached down and grabbed the idol, bringing it up to inspect it. Tatsumi felt the man still under his arm, seemingly enraptured by the chunk of wood in his hands. He heard him mutter something along the lines of, "A badge?" but before Tatsumi could question it the idol was placed into his free hand. "This the piece of junk you were looking for?" Alright, now he really wanted to hit him.
"Excuse you, that's a sacred protective idol from our village," he snapped out before yanking his arm away and stumbling over to the fallen tree-bench. Slowly sitting himself down he noticed the man was staring at him rather pensively, causing Tatsumi to practically yell, "What?" at him. At that the man seemed to break free of his thoughts, giving Tatsumi a casual shrug and walking over to sit down across from him.
"You've got some spunk to you, kid," came the answer. "You always this crabby to people who save your life?" He pointed his signature eyebrow stare at Tatsumi, triggering the young man yet again. Closing his eyes, Tatsumi chose to breathe in deeply and ignore the voice in his mind telling him to slap the man upside his stupid head. The first thing he noticed when he reopened them was that the man had taken his hat off, unveiling a rather unkempt mane of silvery-blue hair.
"Forget it. Not worth it to keep arguing," the man grumbled as he lowered the mask. 'I guess he really is just human,' thought Tatsumi, not seeing anything alarming on his face. The traces left of the reaper he saw earlier were the rampant bloodstains permeating his coat, leaving behind some guy with weird hair and eyes like a dead fish. "What's your name, kid?" Tatsumi shook himself from his inspections and answered, "Tatsumi."
The man let out a short hum before responding, "Glad I could save your ass, kid." Pulling off his right glove, he reached a hand out to Tatsumi prompting him to shake it. This brought a lopsided grin to his face, slightly weirding Tatsumi out.
"The name's Gintoki. Sakata Gintoki."
He never would have thought he'd see a trace of Yharnam in this era, but somehow, he had eaten his own words.
'Just how many of these things were made?' he thought as he twirled Tatsumi's idol around in his hand—or rather, the hunter badge the kid had gotten his hands on. There was no mistaking the runes carved into the back side of the relic, but what struck him was the design. Most of the badges he had seen had been either crudely shaped metal scrap or an official badge from Cainhurst or the Healing Church. This one, however, seemed to be hand-carved in the shape of some sort of minotaur.
"What's got your attention so focused on that?" The kid's voice interrupted Gintoki's thoughts as he turned to look at the source of the noise. He found said source sitting by the fire the kid had started up, not even sparing a glance at him, his attention claimed by the roast meat he was slowly turning.
"No reason in particular," he replied. "Just some weird symbols on here I thought I recognized." He stood and made his way over to the fire, sitting down across from Tatsumi. What an odd name. At least, compared to those he was used to in Yharnam. Really, it was somewhat comforting to hear a name from his homeland, even if it confused the hell out of him in regards to where he actually was. He hadn't even said his own name aloud in quite some time.
According to the kid, the Empire was essentially a mix-match of different cultures and people; clans and bloodlines ranged from the far eastern lands of Gintoki's origin to the kingdoms that he had know to be west of Yharnam.
'To think that this land could be home to so many cultures…' He wondered what had become of the east—if the bloodshed and infighting had finally been put to rest. The hunter couldn't remember much before the wars began, but he knew the nation had been a prosperous one, at least until the various coups and revolutions had brought the proud land and its inhabitants to their knees.
A bitter smirk crossed his face as memories of his time fighting in said wars rose to the surface, some of deadly battles, others of his idiot companions. "I wonder how those fools ended up…" he mused.
"Someone you're looking for?" The kid's voice startled Gintoki out of his thoughts enough for him to drop the wooden idol, something he mentally kicked himself for. He really was off his game if he was letting some kid disturb his awareness of his surroundings.
Gintoki raised his blank gaze to meet Tatsumi's inquisitive one and sighed, realizing the kid was unlikely to take a dismissal for an answer. "Reminiscing on the past," he answered. Tatsumi tilted his head, prompting him to continue, "I used to be a soldier for my homeland." That apparently got the kid's attention as he propped the meat skewer between two rocks across the fire from each other and asked, "Where are you from, actually? You can't be from the Empire with that accent. I've never even heard someone talk like you before, now that I think abou—"
"You know," Gintoki cut him off, effectively shutting Tatsumi's rambling mouth, "When you ask someone a question, it's polite to let them answer." He snorted at the embarrassed look the kid sported before staring into the fire. "To be honest, I'm not sure what you call it. It's a land far to the east, and we prided ourselves on being a strong nation built by the hands of its people." He paused, thinking of how to word the rest of his land's history before continuing, "We were invaded, though, when I was just a young boy. Some army of foreigners from various nations wanted our land for trade routes, so they walked in and tried to take it." A particularly nasty memory crossed his mind, revealing itself on his face in the form of a rather contemptuous grimace.
"We could have won, but our government gave in to their demands and tried to disband it's military force. I was among those who refused to lay down their arms, but our rebellion was crushed by the combined force of the foreigners and our former commanders." Tatsumi was ever at attention, following Gintoki's story on the edge of his seat, something that brought a ghost of a smile to the hunter's face.
"Eventually, I struck out on my own to solve my own personal issue I had from the war." Not untrue, even if some details were left out regarding his true reasoning for leaving. "When I left, various coups in the ranks of the bakufu had decimated our once-great nation, and in the place of our home was a wasteland of poverty, sickness and corruption," he finished, leaving his thoughts to wander to his travels between his days as a samurai and his time in Yharnam.
"Bakufu?" asked Tatsumi. "Our term for our government." He made an 'oh' sound and went back to tending the meat skewer, letting out a curse at the slightly burnt sides. Gintoki leaned back, staring up at the stars, thinking back on what he came to this world to do before turning back to Tatsumi and asking, "Why are you going to the capital, kid?" Tatsumi didn't answer at first, choosing instead to set down the meat skewer on a makeshift wooden plate, wincing as he turned a little too fast for his recovering body.
Gintoki saw this, but before he could ask, Tatsumi spoke, "My village has been struggling with supplies and money, so my friends and I decided to go off to the capital to make a name for ourselves in the army." Gintoki raised an eyebrow at this, something that apparently made the kid stammer out, "W-we had to do something! We lost a lot of people to that blizzard that came through last week, so…" The hunter felt his expression soften at hearing of the kid's troubles back home, and he couldn't really fault him for being so idealistic. He was—by Gintoki's standards—still a kid as evidenced by his lack of real-world training, although his survivability in their initial meet showed promise.
Tatsumi yawned before grabbing a knife from his pack and using it to carve the meat in two. He moved to hand half to the hunter, saying, "My friends tell me I'm a decent cook, so I hope it's alright." Gintoki accepted the offer, taking the plate and staring at roast in front of him with mixed thoughts. Did he even need to eat? He couldn't even taste the old—albeit faint—hunger for blood that had persisted even towards the end of his Yharnam journey, not even when he had slain those bandits earlier.
"What's wrong with it?" Tatsumi was staring at him now, regarding him with a sort of mock suspicion, possibly hurt that he didn't want to try his food. Gintoki smirked, deciding it would be fun to mess with the kid.
"It smells like you poisoned it." He had to keep from laughing at the offended expression Tatsumi adopted.
"You watched me cook it, you hack! How the hell could I have poisoned it?"
"I didn't say you did, just that you probably cooked it too long and now it's poisonous." Now he was barely holding it in. Tatsumi practically had steam coming out of his ears. "Look." Gintoki started poking the meat for emphasis. "It's practically solid here."
Tatsumi started spluttering, but before he could retort anything Gintoki caved and took a bite. It wasn't bad at all if he was being honest, and Gintoki had a brief thought that the kid could be a chef if he really wanted before another thought hit him: the taste was there, but he could barely sense it. The flavor and texture felt removed, as if he were experiencing it from a memory, and he almost spit it out before noticing Tatsumi's bewildered expression watching him. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "Fine, it's alright," before taking another bite. The kid's eyes narrowed at him before turning to his own dish. "Stingy bastard," he muttered before digging into his serving.
Setting his dish down, Gintoki leaned back against the tree he had sat in front of. The night sky looked so peaceful and beautiful, something he never really appreciated during the Hunt, although he supposed that was due to the near-constant shine of the blood moon on the fallen city. Speaking of, the crescent above the trees illuminated the hunter's face just enough to for Tatsumi to look up and catch the wistful look he was sending the pale celestial body.
"You gonna eat?"
Gintoki's eyes flicked to the kid, then to his plate before sighing and leaning forward to place the dish back by the fire. "Not that hungry, kid." Tatsumi made to say something but Gintoki raised a hand, saying, "It tastes fine, I promise."
"Well no shit, I'm eating it too." Tatsumi grabbed the hunter's plate without hesitation and scooped the leftovers onto his own. "I know I can cook."
Gintoki hummed distantly, but Tatsumi was too engrossed in his food to care. He returned his gaze to the sky, wondering if a certain celestial being was looking back at him. 'I didn't give you much time to mend our bond, did I?' He chastised himself for leaving the Dream so quickly; even though he had his rightful reasons it still felt unfair to leave her alone, after all her actions had only been with the intent to produce a family, to craft him into the perfect child of a Great One. Gintoki abruptly realized he had been clenching his fist and loosened it as well as the breath he had been holding back. Maybe he was on edge still from the events that had transpired in the Dream.
What would it even mean to be her son? Could he see her as his mother anyways? At this Gintoki snorted. 'Not that I ever knew my real family anyways. Shoka Sonjuku was all the family I needed,' he thought to himself. Even as he said that to himself, he felt some kind of longing bubble up within. She hadn't ever actually tried to corrupt him, had she? Even when she first descended and attempted to embrace him, she had never meant to harm him. It was only once he drew arms and declared her his enemy that she fought back, and still she didn't attempt a grievous wound during their battle despite him not holding back.
Was he really the prodigal son of some celestial being? His face scrunched up in an expression of slight discomfort, but before he could ponder further Tatsumi threw a roll of something at him. He caught it instantly before realizing it was a bundle of cloths meant for bedding.
"I packed an extra just in case mine got torn up or something," the kid explained while yawning. "If you're gonna stay here and go with me to the capital then I'll take first watch." Gintoki's eyes narrowed at him. "No you're not, not with those injuries."
"I can stand fine now." He stood up to prove it, walking back over to the fire.
Gintoki huffed at him. "Listen, you're still not ready to fight just yet, so just let me keep watch." Tatsumi turned and looked at him in confusion. "You're just gonna stay up all night?" the young man asked him pointedly, causing Gintoki to click his tongue in annoyance. "Yes, I've been watching my own back for years, it's more important you get your rest so you can heal properly." Still the kid kept staring at him, but eventually he sighed and relented.
"Fine, old man." The hunter felt his eye twitch but ignored it, instead moving to set up a small space for him to keep watch from. He heard Tatsumi mutter something about "More stubborn than a rock," but he refrained from saying anything, choosing to turn around and watch their little campsite. Once Tatsumi laid down, the stillness began to set in, allowing Gintoki more free time with his own thoughts. Or, more accurately, more time for an idea to cross his mind.
"Do I still have it?" he asked himself, reaching out to the messengers. When no response came, however he growled impatiently, "I will sick mother on you if you don't hurry this instant." Not one moment later he saw the void slowly tear itself open above his waiting hand and drop something. He hissed.
"Not this one, you imbeciles. The Choir one." The first item vaporized, immediately being replaced by a similar one with a ring-like handle. Letting out a slow exhale, he stalked over to Tatsumi's side and raised the bell over the boy's lower body before gently ringing it. Thankfully he was the only one that would hear the bell, as those without Insight would be left wondering why the hunter was shaking an empty hand over the sleeping adventurer.
As the swirls of the cosmos began to wrap themselves around Tatsumi, he saw the bandages begin to tighten slightly as the flesh underneath was mended to its fullest. A peek underneath one of the wrappings confirmed that his wounds were indeed gone, leaving not even a scar in their wake. Finished, he made his way back to his earlier spot and began focusing on his surroundings, trying to detect any anomalies in the nighttime sounds.
Not too long after he left Tatsumi's side though, he heard a slight rustle of leaves that anyone else would have attributed to the usual forest sound; however the Hunter could hear a muffled series of thuds following the noise, signifying a new presence slowly making their way towards the campsite. 'Downwind, too. They must think they're hunting a beast.' A more startling thought came to him. 'Or a hunter.' He narrowed his eyes before silently making his way up the tree nearest to his vantage point.
Now perched above the clearing, he could see exactly what was coming in his direction: a hooded figure wearing black leather armor with one metal shoulder pauldron, slowly but surely making its way through the woods. However, when Gintoki attempted to use his foresight to discern their identity he was met with a cloudy visage, almost like they were hiding from him. He smirked.
'Too late for them,' he thought to himself as he dropped from the tree without a sound before vanishing into the woods. Gintoki knew he was the best at silent travel. Hell, even Gehrman had remarked to him about his tranquil movements, and how his skill at espionage and lurking was something he had seen in no hunter before. Thus, when he had finally snuck up to the figure from behind he knew for certain he had the element of surprise completely by his side.
"Oi." He saw the figure freeze in place. "Whaddya think you're doing sneaking around at this ungodly hour?" They didn't move. Gintoki felt something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Gintoki heard a soft laugh emanate from the front of the figure, forcing one of his eyebrows up in a signature puzzled look, before their voice caused his other eyebrow to join the previous one.
"Shame on you, you greedy guts. Catching people by surprise is my trade, after all." At this, the figure turned to face the hunter. "Still can't get your fill of thievery?" Patches said with a mischievous grin.
"So you're saying that you, the slayer of the Great Ones, are now one of their kin?" Patches was bent over laughing, only pausing to look up at Gintoki's unimpressed face which lead to him laugh even harder. "Oh how the fates have smiled upon you, my friend." The hunter was one step from knocking some sense into the bald man when he finally stood up and righted himself, although that damned smirk was still ever present on his stupid face.
"Now," Patches began, "What the hell are you doing here then? Tying up some loose ends or something?"
"I'm trying to find out what actually started the scourge," Gintoki answered, his tone tinged with frustration directed at the insufferable backstabber. "The Moon Presence told me that she and the other Great Ones had nothing to do with the plague." Patches quirked an eyebrow at that statement.
"Your mummy, eh?" He raised his hand to his chin in mock contemplation. "Well, I think you've put yourself in quite the pickle my friend." Just one slap. One. Gintoki put his head in his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd have to wait to air his grievances against the bastard later; there were more pressing matters at hand. "Do you know anything or not?" he asked him.
Patches gave him a look that implied he was deep in thought before answering, "I may know some things. Unfortunately, the full answer doesn't happen to be one of them. Plus," He grinned. "Why would I just tell you when I could charge you for it?"
"And why would I just let you walk away when I could rip out your gutless spine and be done with you?" Gintoki growled in return.
Patches smirked at him again. "Oh come now, chap. You of all people should understand how valuable information is." 'Keep it going, give me a reason to plant that stupid face of yours in the dirt,' Gintoki thought. He was so going to enjoy smacking the former spider around.
He paused his thoughts.
"Wait." Patches looked at him with furrowed brows. "How are you human? Where the hell are your spindly little legs?" The former nightmare resident just grinned at him before snapping his fingers, instantly replacing the human figure with the more familiar eight-legged one. "This? Just an illusion. I've always been human, more or less," he explained to the stunned hunter before snapping his image back.
"Now, as for your search for whatever answers you want," Patches continued as he made to sit by the log Tatsumi had been propped against earlier. "I don't think you'll learn much from me that you haven't already gleaned, my friend." At that he fixed Gintoki with a knowing look, making the hunter feel as though he knew what he had been up to since coming back here. "Have you been watching me since I came back to the waking world? You know, I never pegged you for a stalker," Gintoki said with a mock smirk, attempting to unsettle the man. Alas, his efforts were for naught as Patches shrugged and replied, "I just happened to be passing through, and I saw smoke earlier in the distance. You know me." He elbowed the hunter slightly. "Always looking out for others."
"The kid needs to sleep. Stop trying to make me laugh," Gintoki deadpanned.
"About that," Patches jerked his head in Tatsumi's direction causing the hunter to cock an eyebrow at him. "If he's actually looking for an honest living in the capital, he's damned by fate already."
"What do you mean?"
The bald man glanced around uneasily, confusing the hunter, before leaning in and speaking at a lower volume, "The Empire isn't all too far from what the Church was, if you really want to know." Gintoki stared at him for a good moment before sighing, saying, "What exactly do you mean?"
"You remember what you saw in the Nightmare?" At the hunter's clenched fist reaction Patches continued, "It's a top-down level of corruption. The leadership is content to sit back and watch the people suffer while the army and guard take out whatever frustrations or sick desires they have on those they're supposed to protect. The king is essentially a figurehead for his uncle, the Minister, and the soldiers themselves are pretty much hit or miss in the morality camp." A breeze whirled through the clearing, involuntarily causing him to shudder.
"Supposedly there's this group of militants that are trying to resist the Empire, but they've been deemed bloodthirsty assassins and the people aren't able to see otherwise." That piqued Gintoki's interest. "Assassins?" Patches threw a glance his way.
"Some rebels calling themselves 'Night Raid'," he answered. Gintoki scoffed.
"Sounds tacky."
"To a degree I'd agree with you, but they've succeeded in pissing off the Minister personally, so they had to have warranted some level of aggression." The bald man paused, giving the hunter some time with his thoughts.
It seemed that no matter what era, the greed of man managed to cause disparity without pause. He supposed that was why Patches was still around, stepping in to punish that greed wherever he could, but really it was sad to think that such things were allowed to happen everywhere. His homeland, Yharnam, and now in the Empire—mankind truly was its own worst enemy.
'Maybe divine punishment wasn't too far off…' Gintoki thought, his mind flitting back to the various shouts and screeches he heard roaming the Yharnam streets and alleyways. The people in their houses had been rather vocal about their distaste for the Church and its hunters, screaming a near-endless amount of expletives and insults at him whenever he tried asking them about the Church.
Still, perhaps this 'Night Raid' could help him obtain a better understanding of what was going on, maybe even get him some information on any beast-related happenings. "Have you run into these people before?" "The Empire?" Gintoki sighed.
"No, you idiot. Night Raid, the assassins." Patches looked contemplative for a moment.
"I've seen the aftermath of one of their hits." He paused in remembrance. "Reminded me of one of your 'episodes'." Gintoki grimaced at this—he was glad his beast-temper rarely got out of hand. His ascension to pseudo-godhood had to have had something to do with its lack of presence. Noticing this, Patches put his hand on the man's shoulder, causing him to look up at the bald man.
"Fret not, my friend. Yharnam's behind us, and all that nasty business gone with it." He smiled, a strangely genuine one in Gintoki's opinion. "Just imagine all the fools waiting to be thrown into their own greedy pits." Ah, there was the conniving hyena he knew so well. "Patches," he began, catching his friend's attention.
"I'm going to find this Night Raid and see if they've heard anything beast-related. I have to make sure that the scourge was eradicated."
Patches looked at him for a moment before turning to face the woods he had passed through. "You know, there are quite a few dangerous animals you may find yourself happening upon later," he spoke, catching Gintoki's ear and making the hunter's eyebrows raise quizzically. "They call them danger beasts." Patches let out a snort. "Really though, they couldn't be more dangerous than some of the hounds that used to patrol the alleys. Most of them, at least."
"And the others…?"
The former Nightmare Apostle took a deep breath. "Well I doubt you or I would struggle with anything that isn't a Super Class. I've slain my fair share of wondrous nightmares, and you've done likewise." Gintoki wondered what Patches had been up to while he had been gone. He made a mental note to ask him later. "Really, it's almost a bore seeing what this world has in store for you, although 'tis really an unfair assessment given what you've become, old friend. Speaking of." Patches gave him an inquisitive look, causing the hunter to sigh before answering, "It's not too different, but I doubt I've understood it well enough. She mentioned something about 'gradual changes' but really unless I'm a late bloomer, it's nothing too drastic a change."
This got a hum of acknowledgement out of his former companion, but he could tell something was on the man's mind. Patches never was anything but a know-it-all, and to see him contemplative went against all knowledge he had of his—begrudged, but still—friend. "Something eating at you?" he asked him, seeming to startle him out of whatever thoughts he was perusing.
"None in particular, but I really should be going before daylight." Looking up Gintoki could see the last of the moon peeking over the horizon, and he knew the sun would soon follow suit opposite of it. "Agreed, I still have to escort the kid to town," he replied, although he still was suspicious of whatever had his attention just now. Making yet another mental note, he stood up and made to resume his earlier position by the tree near his rest until Patches' next words stopped him.
"You know, you're the last one." This made him turn towards Patches in confusion, and upon seeing the hunter's expression he sighed. "The last hunter. Your craft died out when you left." A pregnant pause ensued, followed by Patches gesturing towards Tatsumi with a tilt of his head. "Maybe you don't have to let it stay dead. Although," he lingered on that word, a teasing smirk making its way to his face, "I think it'd do him some good if you didn't pass on those sticky fingers of yours. You'll keep him out of some trouble, at least." Shaking his head, he replied, "Even if I wanted to teach, it's not something that can be learnt through simple training. You know as well as I do that our circumstances were never meant to be lived through."
Patches sighed. "I suppose you're right. Still." He stared up at the dawning sky. "Would be a shame."
Lowering his gaze to the last hunter, he quirked an eyebrow. "It almost seems like wishful thinking, doesn't it? To have it all in the past?" He snickered and started walking back into the woods. "Good thing neither of us can let ghosts stay dead." Raising a hand in farewell without sparing a glance back, the last reminder of Gintoki's past in Yharnam faded into the woods just as rays of sunlight began to reveal the hunter's face to the day.
Turning back to the campsite he saw Tatsumi beginning to stir from the blinding light filtering through the trees directly into his eyes, causing a Gintoki could think back to what Patches had said about the kid. 'I couldn't live with myself if I put someone through what I did, much less someone as young as him,' he thought, 'But if he's right, then the kid needs put on the right track. He and his friends.' Memories of various lessons and mentors, from Gehrman to Valtr brought a soft smile to his face. He certainly did have a good selection of lessons he could instill in the kid.
"Did you even move?" Speaking of, it seemed Tatsumi was wide awake if the taunting voice emanating from the crumpled up pile of blankets told him anything. Gintoki smirked.
"Apparently you did, kid. Some dream, huh?" he teased. The reaction was instant as, for a moment, Tatsumi shot straight up to a standing position and managed out, "You wanna go?" before his various bedding wrappings caught up to him, causing him to faceplant before the words even made it fully out of his mouth. It was quite the hilarious sight, but Gintoki needed the kid ready to get going. If they were going to make it to the capital before sundown, they needed to leave soon.
Sighing, he started helping Tatsumi untangle himself from his bedding and wrappings. Apparently it had just begun to dawn on the kid that he wasn't in pain moving about anymore, as he asked, "What did you do to me?" Gintoki gave him a partly offended look. "What? I've been over by my tree the whole night. The hell do you think I did to you?" Tatsumi rolled up his pants leg and thrust it in the hunter's direction.
"Then how do you explain my legs?! These things don't just heal overnight, you liar!"
"They do when I'm the healer. I told you those bandages had a special salve on them."
"What?! When did you mention this?!"
"When I was putting them on. Not my fault you're deaf."
"You—" Gintoki cut him off with a raised hand. "You're still planning on making it to the capital today, right?" Tatsumi nodded, prompting him to continue, "Well I've come to a decision." At this the young man narrowed his eyes in apprehension. "About what, exactly?" Gintoki gave him a sarcastic grin.
"I'm so glad you asked. You see," He reached down and picked up the young man's sword before tossing it to him causing Tatsumi to let out a startled shriek and barely catch the throw. "Your stuff needs some work." Another suspicious squint. The hunter sighed and moved forward to stand directly in front of Tatsumi. "Your swordsmanship sucks, quite frankly. Maybe not by your people's standards, but if we're going to be traveling together I can't have you embarrassing me with all that flailing around."
An indignant squawk of protest emanated from Tatsumi, but it was quickly quelled when Gintoki followed up with, "You've got some promise, kid. Trust me. It's just that whoever trained you previously didn't." The young man's cheeks flushed at the insult to his teachers back home, but before he could retort, Gintoki tossed him the idol he had yet to return since last night.
"Let's get going." Tatsumi started getting into his battle stance, anticipating a quick spar, but Gintoki snorted at him. "We're not starting now, idiot. I meant as in let's get back on the road." He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a soft, "Oh." Gintoki snickered, causing his cheeks to go red again. Steam was a common export of his ears, it seemed.
"We've got a lot of ground to cover, so pack up already." He turned to go sit back down by the tree. "Wha—what are you going to do then?" As he leaned back into the bark, he smirked at the kid's exasperated expression before closing his eyes.
"I'm going to take my nap."
Okay, that was a whole lotta writing, and I need to find the schedule to write more when I'm not dead tired and it's almost 5am. I hope I didn't make anything too OOC here, especially Patches since he's so difficult to pin down for me, but really I think it went a lot better than I thought it would. Please let me know your thoughts, and I'll do my best to respond at the beginning of the next chapter. Peace!