a/n: Thank you for the very nice reviews from the last chapter! I found it really refreshing to start working on this as I have found that I've been overthinking a lot of my stuff, and I ... don't have to follow so many rules in this AU fic - I can write mildly short chapters and can be a little more indulgent description wise, lol.

9. criminality

After shuffling through what must have been stacks and stacks of paperwork, Tsukuyo was finally able to free Jiraia from his cell, to which he was somewhat unhappy about. He believed that his sentence had not been sufficient, but the Courtesan of Death had shaken her head at the sound of this.

"Shishou," she said, her voice uncommonly compassionate and reserved only for those who were part of her inner circle. "I'd rather not fight about this. Whatever you want is fine. If you want to come back as the leader of Hyakka, I would gladly step down."

"No," he said shortly. "I think I've done enough for you to take full responsibility for now. I'm leaving Yoshiwara."

Her jaw dropped. "But why?"

"I'm old, Tsukuyo." Something softened in his eyes, affection pouring from him as a master would bestow on a loyal student. "I've taken so many lives, and after I was so close to taking yours, I knew I crossed a line too far."

"Shishou... "

"More importantly, I've always believed that a woman all along should have led the Hyakka. Who else, but a woman, would understand best the sufferings of the ones trapped in this city?" His hands trembled slightly as he raised them, inspecting the grooves and scars on his palms. "You've always understood this city for what it was. The arrogance, and the folly of men to underestimate the courtesans... in the end, I was no better than the savages who came here - "

"No, Shishou!" Tsukuyo cried out, unable to stand any more of his self-deprecation. "You raised me, and without you, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't training under you." She clasped her hands to his, which were just as calloused and marred as his were. "I took an oath to protect Yoshiwara, which I'm reminded of every day of my duty when I look in the mirror. So please, Shishou, don't say any more bad things about yourself. You saved me from myself. And I owe it all to you."

It was times like these that Jiraia regretted turning his student into a mostly emotionless shinobi, as the few occasions where Tsukuyo was emotional always reminded him of the warm memories from his sister, who had held him in similar regards. For now, he was determined that the his student would not share the same fate as his sister.

"Thank you, Tsukuyo." He rose to take his leave, never being one for long conversations. She was the same as him, not a type of person to linger, but still gave her master a soft smile. She would not ask where he was going, but knew that Jiraia would continue to protect her behind the shadows, no matter what happened in the future.

-x-

It was barely a week after the completion of the the town's reconstruction that problems began to pop up in Yoshiwara. Many of the gangs and traffickers who had kept a wide berth from the red light district due to Hosen's influence were now swarming into the city, making a rowdy mess of things and causing much trouble for many of the courtesans. Although Tsukuyo had a talent for keeping an eye out for danger, she found that even in the small constraints of Yoshiwara's jurisdiction, she was lacking in manpower, and consequently she found herself regularly working twelve hour shifts to make sure that the inhabitants were as safe as they could be.

It was unfortunate that Jiraia had left although Tsukuyo could hardly blame him for doing so; he was getting on in years. She was starting to train the courtesans basic skills for self-defense, as it was not realistic that each member of the Hyakka could come to their rescue if an unruly customer were to suddenly turn violent. Hinowa, who now lived with Tsukuyo in a small shop-front bought with the leftover gold that Hosen had stolen from her eight years ago, had tried to help the Courtesan of Death as best as she could, and had gone so far even to recruit other members of the Oniwabanshuu to fill in on days where there was not enough paramilitary forces to protect Yoshiwara. One of them was named Hattori Zenzou, who was the head of the Marishiten ninja clan. For a reasonable price, and the lure of a VIP pass to the sole club in Yoshiwara dedicated to ugly women, he was surprisingly lenient and willing to work under Hinowa.

Tsukuyo had gotten to know him over the last few weeks, and after she had told him she was a former student of Jiraia's, he had been shocked.

"You ought to know he's bad news from the ninja village."

"There's a ninja village?"

For one night, Hinowa had invited the ninja for dinner, and he had explained the history of the Iga village to Tsukuyo, including the crimes of her master that were inflicted on the Oniwabanshuu. She had been shocked to find out such a bloody history that had been behind her master, having never questioned whence he came from or how he became so powerful of his own accord.

"If what you say is true - that you defeated him with your own hands - then you must also be a very powerful ninja," Hattori said.

She shook her head at this. "That's not true. I just wasn't ready to die, and so I focused all my power on making him surrender. And... I had some help. I took a drug that momentarily enhanced my power at the time. Not to mention, he's getting on with years. He's no longer the ninja that he was known as from your father's time."

Most warriors who put their life on their line were familiar with the momentary increase of power when they were close to death's door, especially those with a strong will to live. Tsukuyo was lucky that she had a strong fortitude herself to continue living, even if she was not the strongest of them all. Even so, she had wished that Jiraia had confided her about his past, as she believed that he had more than redeemed himself despite his sins, which were inevitable in the life of a shinobi.

However she had little time to dwell on such thoughts; as the latest criminal gangs infiltrated Yoshiwara, she had her hands full, even with extra help. She was so busy that even as a guest of Yoshiwara had come to visit, it had taken her over an hour to sit down to listen what he had to say.

As soon as she met the strange guest in a private room, her hairs lifted on her neck. Not one to ignore instincts, she immediately shifted into a defensive position.

After all, the first thing she noticed was his umbrella.

-x-

Yoshiwara was no stranger to eccentric guests. Tsukuyo had seen her fair share of strange kinks and fetishes through her years of growing up in such a place, and they had only increased with the permission of Amanto to come and go as they pleased in the red light districts. As far as Hosen was concerned, so long as they paid, it was no issue. The only rules were that samurais were not allowed to fight Amanto as the city had instilled a no-man's land policy, and in a twisted way, it had been a refuge for many trying to escape the tyranny of the Joui war. That said, if there were assassinations happening between the two parties, Hyakka were instructed to simply clean the mess and do no further investigation. As the Shogun had refused to exercise jurisdiction over the district, it remained a hotbed for political espionage.

However, as this particular guest seemed neither interested in the courtesans beckoning him for a good time, nor the pleasure of drink, Tsukuyo had poured him some tea as they made small chat. He was an Amanto, though he closely resembled human beings, and his Japanese was surprisingly fluent for someone who came from a planet far away.

"I've heard you've taken down Hosen," he said, as he crunched through a rice cracker, reminding her of Hosen's massive appetite for Earthling food. "How did you do that?"

"It wasn't just me," Tsukuyo shrugged, although she was pleased of the reminder. One benefit of overtaking a despot was the respect that she garnered as the head of Hyakka. "We exploited his weakness, and it took a combined effort of my forces and a samurai." A samurai that she was probably irrevocably in love with, and probably wasn't going to return to her - but whatever. Now was not the time to think about him.

"Hm. I'm familiar with many warriors, but he must have been exceptional to have fought toe to toe with the King of Yatos. After all, even I, Umibouzu, never managed to defeat him, and they call me the strongest fighter in the universe."

She narrowed her eyes, although she was fairly certain there was no killing intent coming from the strange guest. "Are you here to seek vengeance?"

"No. Truthfully, I just wanted to know what happened. He made a lot of enemies." He crunched on another rice cracker. "I'm here because Hosen was - or used to be - the old teacher of my son back when he lived in Rakuyo. My son... well, he ran away from home a few months ago, but I thought he might have stopped here."

"Oh."

He sighed. "I haven't been the best of fathers, to be honest with you. It breaks my wife's heart every time I come home and she finds out that I haven't been able to bring him back to her. But I heard that this was a popular place for the Amanto to stop by on Earth, so I figured I might give it a chance."

"How old is he, and what does he look like?"

Umibouzu took out a photo of his family, pointing out a small scowling brat with vermilion hair, tied up in a braid. His striking blue eyes seemed to pierce through the photo, and Tsukuyo could see there was a strong resemblance between the child and the mother.

"He's only nine years old, but he's already developing a strong fighting spirit." Umibouzu seemed strangely proud of his son, although Tsukuyo could hear notes of sadness behind his words. "I just wish I could have explained things better to him, but... well, it's just tough all around. Us Yatos communicate through our fists, you see, but as a consequence, it means we don't understand what's important to us until it's gone."

"I haven't seen your son," Tsukuyo said. "But I'll keep an eye out for him," she promised him. "Boys his age don't come around here, so he'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"Thank you, Tsukuyo-dono," he said, giving her a bow in sincere gratitude. He gave her his business card with an address from his planet. "Please write to me if you see anything."

"I will," she said, giving him a smile.

He stood up to leave, and she slid open the shoji for her guest, glad for the short reprieve from her duties. "By the way, what was the name of the samurai who fought Hosen?"

She tilted her head, and her eyes softened briefly at the mention of her beloved. "Sakata Gintoki. He also goes by Shiroyasha."

-x-

About a thousand kilometers away, Gintoki sneezed.

Takasugi looked up, mildly annoyed at the interruption. "Oi, Gintoki, zip the tent, will you? You've let in a draft already." Gintoki rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

The four of them were gathered around a war meeting, and it had been fairly boring in Gintoki's opinion. Takasugi was the type of commander who was obsessed with details, including the minutiae of what formations and strategies would be useful for their next offense. Next to him, Katsura was faithfully taking down notes, debating with him the best way to proceed further. Sakamoto was no better, already beginning to map out future contacts and potential villages where he would be able to procure supplies for the troops.

The latest information from recon had been fairly discouraging. The Bakufu had decided the next course of action, as ridiculous as it had seemed, was to build a new terminal in the nation's capital of Edo.

"It's because we happen to have the largest amount of Altana on this planet," Takasugi had said, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "But undoubtedly this opens us up for even more foreign invasion." He tapped his fingers impatiently. "Surely we'll have to stop them before it's too late."

Gintoki had to bite his tongue, for he wanted to say, "You and what army?" Already he knew he was fighting a losing war, in which the only reason he stuck around was because he wanted to protect his men who had been needlessly roped into fighting for a cause of which the enemy was clearly superior in every way. He kept his thoughts to himself because it was no use to lower morale within the Kiheitai troops.

The problem was that Gintoki would have been fine if the war was over. It would take ten skilled men to take him down on a good day, and come hell or high water, he didn't care who won as sacrilegious as it sounded. He knew he would end up fine either way. But as for everyone else, who had their pride and honor and whatever else they had staked on the outcome of the war would not fare equally as well, for Shoyou-sensei had already told them that history would always be written by the winners. He knew what had happened to the few who still openly supported the Jouishishi, and many more who had their heads decapitated in front of a captive audience.

He had seen blood spilled and he had seen in equal measure families torn apart. And for what? National pride? A feudal system that had benefited only those at the top? Gintoki was not sure how the previous way of things would be able to co-exist with the Amanto coming in, but he thought for a while that a change was in order. Whether Katsura or Takasugi could adapt was none of his business.

And yet here I am, he thought grimly. Unable to move, because I am the Shiroyasha, and without me, this whole thing would have been over by now.

His train of thought was interrupted by Katsura saying, "That's why I think we should go to Kyou. We know that there will be a giant stockpile of Altana-based weapons there, and if we took over their embassy, we could turn the tide against the Amanto."

Takasugi considered it, his hand stretched to move the tokens on the strategy map from one area to another. "Hmm... Sakamoto, what do you think?"

"It's a fairly strategic move, in my opinion," Tatsuma said, referencing his notes. "The Amanto won't want to risk the wrath of the Emperor, because then that means the trading ports will be closed if they make it a battleground against humans, and that's probably their worst-case scenario. They'd rather have the option to access an open Altana source with the least amount of bloodshed."

It was assumed automatically that the next operation was to be a guerrilla based mission. The previous Joui generation had gone in with only samurai swords and had been massacred to the point of folly. The four of them, no stranger to Amanto weapons or military warfare, had adapted to the times, and had no qualms about incorporating new weaponry if it meant they would win.

"If we took a route through Joui friendly territory, we could get there in three days," Takasugi said, more to himself than anything. Frowning, he said, "I'll have to think about it. Meeting dismissed," to which Katsura and Sakamoto stood up, leaving Gintoki behind with the commander.

He waited until the two other men were well out of earshot.

"So, Gintoki," the commander said, a frown on his face as usual. "You didn't talk that much today. Was there something you wanted to say in private to me?"

Although to most bystanders it seemed as if their relationship was simply antagonistic, it concealed a childhood friendship that stemmed much deeper than one would initially assume. It was a fact that Sakata Gintoki was indispensable to the Joui movement, a symbol of resistance against the Amanto who seemed, at any point in time despite their enemy's advantages, completely infallible. But in equal measure Takasugi Shinsuke was just as important to the Kiheitai, who kept the army on the run, with a thousand fates resting on his shoulders. It was he who was ready to take responsibility for the failures if they happened, and indeed, they happened more often than not.

"The people who took away Shoyou-sensei weren't the Oniwabanshu," he said. "They initially carried out the dirty work for the Kansai Purge under the last Shogun, but now Sadasada wants to outsource the crimes to those who can do a cleaner job." Gintoki paused, then for emphasis, finally let out a breath. "I believe they are called Tenshouin Naraku."

"And what do you think their chances are of them being stationed at Kyou?"

Gintoki sighed. "Very, very high."

-x-

After Takasugi dismissed him, he stayed in his tent as it was Katsura's turn again to be on sentry duty. But this time, instead of taking a nap, he was struggling to write a letter.

A stupid letter. To that girl. He dipped his brush in ink, willing for the words to come to him.

Dear Tsukuyo - well shit, wasn't that too sappy? He grimaced, and crossed it out. Tsukuyo - there, now that was better.

Sakamoto unfortunately had chosen an inopportune time to pop his head into the Shiroyasha's tent. "Hey Kintoki! Wanna go out and look for supplies?" he asked, right before meeting Gintoki's death glare.

"Oh boy," he said, grinning. "Don't tell me this is your... um... geisha girl?"

"Fuck you, Tatsuma. She's nothing like Oryou, who just scams you out of our hard earned money."

"Ahahahaha! How dare you sully the name of Oryou! She is beautiful and strong, and I will definitely marry her when the war is over, ahahaha!"

"In your dreams, bastard! Now, get the hell out of my tent before I kick your ass!"

-x-

"Tsukuyo-chan, a letter's arrived!" Hinowa winked at her, as she came home from yet another long shift. Without a second thought, Tsukuyo snatched the paper from her hands, sticking out her tongue at her sister before escaping to the sanctuary of her room.

With trembling hands, she inhaled the scent of the paper, smelling the slight smoke from bonfires burning at night, the clean scent of cold-pressed soap, the incense of the mosquito coils lit at night to keep the bugs at bay.

He kept his promise.

Carefully opening the envelope with a kunai, she unfolded the letter and sat down to read it, drinking the words in slowly to savor each and every one of them.

Tsukuyo -

How have you been doing? Wait, don't reply to this letter; by the time you get this, I'll be somewhere else, and hopefully watching another rerun of Doraemon and how he has to save Nobita's ass again. In fact, it might be even possible that I'll be in two more locations by then. You might notice that there isn't a return address, and for good reason. I'll have to hike to another town to send this to you anonymously, but it's better to hide my tracks anyway. Wouldn't want you to get linked to these crazy samurai (which by the way, you've correctly identified us as the idiots who love throwing away their lives for idiotic causes).

I miss you a lot. It's probably because every time I wake up, I have to see the same old ugly losers that I've known since I was a kid. You might remember Takasugi, but I also have another friend who goes by the name of Katsura. I call him Zura to piss him off. They're both samurai just like me, but they're also very stupid in other ways. Then there's another guy called Tatsuma who can never get my name right, but sometimes I think he's trying to piss me off, too. Other times I think we get along okay. He got me a chocolate bar a few days ago, and jeez. I don't know what he did to get it, but I didn't ask.

I want to see you again, but I probably won't be able to for a good while. Please tell Hinowa and Seita that I hope they're doing well. Have a strawberry chocolate parfait in my honor, because it feels like it's going to be forever until I get one of those.

Hopefully, this gets to you before the full moon. If not, you can kill me later as long as that means I can see you again.

Gintoki

-x-

She read the letter twice, and then once more again before sighing, her emotions too big to be put into words. After she carefully placed the letter into a box for future safekeeping, she headed downstairs to the living room, where the small wooden shrine dedicated to Seita's birth mother had been erected in her honor.

It was a while since she had prayed to the gods above, but for him, she would have made an exception. Lighting the incense, she knelt down in front of the batsudan.

"Kami-sama," she whispered, "Please protect that soldier. I beg of you... "

The full moon was fading underneath the small window of the sky that stretched above Yoshiwara, and for a while, she looked at it, willing for some divine power to answer her prayers. But no one did. She rose up anyways, smiling, and prepared herself to go to bed soon.

After all, tomorrow was a new morning, and she had work to do.

- tbc -

a/n: SO GUESS WHAT! I've basically finished an complete outline for this story (by that I mean I've written down all the plot lines and have a short summary for every chapter), and if everything goes to plan it should be completed within twenty five chapters! This is the ninth chapter so we have sixteen more to go, jeesh!

Please leave me a review - they really motivate me to keep on going. The ones from last chapter were so lovely!

Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like - all feedback is welcomed and taken into consideration!