"Everyone's so intimately rearranged

Everyone's so focused clearly with such shine

Locked and loaded

Still the same ol' decent lazy eye straight through your gaze"

He should have known better than to ever listen to Sougou. Even though he didn't lie about what they were walking into, Gin should have been wise enough to know that nothing good comes from listening to a snot-nosed brat. He had told Gintoki, with a straight blanked face that Kondou had bought too much steak for some god-awful reason (maybe to feed his gorilla relatives and Gintoki did not give enough of a fuck to ask why), that he'd fed the entire Shinsengumi and still had enough to spare. This had led him to giving it to Otose as it was the only way to get Otae to come without breaking his bones, and that she would be cooking it up for everybody. Everybody only included the Yorozuya, the staff of the Snack House, Otae with her walking eyepatch bodyguard, Sougo, Hijikata and his mayonnaise, and his gorilla boss. Between the two old ladies and Kagura, there would only be gristle left if they were lucky. But there was one other thing that kept nagging at him as he walked with Sougo towards the snack house.

"You sure it was beef?" he glared out the corner of his eye, digging out a ball of wax in his ear. Or maybe he pushed it in farther because he saw Sougo's lips move but didn't hear a damn thing. "Huh? I ain't stupid, y'know!"

Sougo looked at him out of the corner of his eye back, face as impassive as ever, but Gintoki could read the little shit's mind. Something among the lines of yes, you are stupid. He wanted to punch him. "Probably not." he finished, and the feeling increased tenfold. He would face the charges for child abuse, he was gonna wail on this kid if something was fucked up. That honestly should have been his clue.

They pushed back the screen door to the Snack Shop, the lights a lowly dim and softening color. It wasn't hard on his eyes from the evening life of Kabukicho, but nor was it any darker. Tama was at the bar talking to Shinpachi, while Kagura and Catherine hovered over Otose at the hot pot. Hijikata was also sitting at the bar with his two best friends, Kondo and mayonnaise, and seemed to be the mediator between his Chief and Otae, though Kyuubei seemed to be doing a good job as well. Their arm never left her elbow, the light brush of fingers enough to keep Otae's temper under control. Gintoki sighed; seemed like Kondo was that stupid.

When Kagura noticed him, her hands didn't stop gripping the edge of the table where the hot pot was, she only screamed at him from across the room. "Look Gin-chan! Questionable space beef!"

Gintoki couldn't help the grin that stretched over his face, despite wanting to remain impassive so he could retort appropriately, but he was struck with the familiarity of it all. When did this stupid shack along with these idiots become his home and family? The comfort filled him to the brim, the calmest he'd felt in years without having a drink first, and all at once it evaporated. Otose casually placed a few strips of "beef" into the hot pot, instantly spitting and hissing from the heat. It wasn't the sound that stopped him dead and wiped the smile off his face; it was the immediate, putrid scent of the meat. The smell wasn't like it had turned, but as if everything was too hot and it just burnt to a crisp the second it hit the pan. The smell instantly filled his nose, clogged his ears, clouded his eyes, filled his head. There was nothing but that smell and he knew that smell, that smell, that smell-

Gintoki blinked and blinked until the grime finally fell from his eyes. He only made the mistake once of using the back of his hand to try and loosen it before his stained knuckle-guards made it worse, spreading everything onto his face like a preschoolers camouflage. This time he didn't know if it was mud from the trampled, blood-soaked earth, blood from others slain, or from the warm rain that didn't seem to make him feel any cleaner. They had barely been enlisted for half a year, just met a weirdo named Sakamoto who had the most annoying laugh, but brought a humor they all needed as well as more soldiers to die, and up until this day Gintoki had thought the worst thing that could happen on this battleground was die. But fuck, had he been naive or just hopeful?

The dark plumes of smoke drifted skyward, ensuring that all those that stood underneath it were stuck in a permanent night until the fight was over. The only light to see by was the flames that ravaged the X-shaped pyres that were everywhere he turned. When they had gotten here, they hadn't been lit and Gintoki didn't know their purpose, was just content with maneuvering around them until he found himself far enough away. Now, he had worked his way back, but the fight had turned him all around. The heat of the flames dried all the moisture from his skin, he felt so hot he might just sweat to death, if the smoke didn't choke him first. As he took in the sight, he thought maybe he had fought himself into another battle entirely, but no. These were his comrades, the soldiers he slept beside and ate with, fastened and left to hang from the pyres. Gintoki had wondered where that sulphurous smell that burned his nose along with the recognizable smell of charred meat was coming from; now he wished he didn't.

The men's bodies were falling apart at the seams, like they'd been clumsily stitched puppets from the start. The flesh and fat of their bodies had been seared until all that was left were the bones to break away at the joints. Gintoki couldn't tear his eyes away from the samurai closest to him, his heart tight and stomach full of bile. It could've once been Zura, or Takasugi, or Sakamoto, but now it was just the frame of a person falling apart. The skin that remained was blistered red before charring, holding on for dear life like tissue paper. The hair was all burnt up, leaving behind wispy strands that were eaten up too and he couldn't help but stare into the blackened eye sockets, wondering if he really did recognize the face staring back.

Dozens upon dozens of pyres all crackled, hissed and spat the same; a constant, layered symphony of men burning alive, screaming as Amanto strung them up and lit them and-

His sword wasn't drawn. Why wasn't Shouyou's sword in his hand, the familiar weight of it a comfort and reminder to fight and keep fighting. He was going for the sword at his hip, drawing with his left hand, before he felt fingers brush his other sleeve, a hand almost gripping his arm. He tore it out of the assailant's grip, before pressing the blade to their throat and pushing back, but something stopped the body from moving any further. There were a few things that stopped him cold from pulling upwards and letting the blade do the work.

The man was faceless, the sword was the wrong weight in his hand, and he could hear someone talking, almost calling his name, his real name and not just Shiroyasha. It took longer than he would have liked to realise that it wasn't raining, that it was sweat running down his neck and that he was snarling in Sougo's face like a savage dog. His bokuto was pressed into his neck hard enough that if it had an edge it would have cut deep, and he had him pushed into the bar as far as he could go. As soon as he realised where he was his mouth snapped shut, he took a step back and lowered his bokuto, unsure. The battle had seemed so real, the sweat all over his body and racing heart a testament to that; he had gone into full battle mode without commanding himself to, and even now, even though he wasn't there, hadn't been there for ten fucking years his body felt dirty, like he had been just scrimmaging through the muck. Gintoki looked at Sougo, who for the first time showed surprise and was rubbing at his throat. He didn't look accusatory like a normal human being should, but he could feel the gaze of everyone else on the room on him. He couldn't look at them, didn't want to see the look of their faces. If Sougo had expression, what would Shinpachi and Kagura look like? He just had a fucking meltdown, had drifted completely out of reality for the first time in so long, and for the first time he had done it in front of people. The room was shaking, or maybe it was just him: the air still felt smoke-thick, and that damn smell…

The clenching of his stomach was the only warning he had, which was enough for him to turn away from Sougo. The least he could do after trying to kill him was not puke on him. He puked up his afternoon parfait before dry heaving the rest. When he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, he realised it wasn't the room. It was him shaking. That was the last straw; he sucked up his remaining courage to look Otose in the eye, who out of all of them had seen him at his worst, and spit out a weak 'sorry' before running away.

Gin couldn't drink enough to sate the nightmares; that night, he was strung up to burn like the others and he didn't give those bastards the satisfaction of his screams.

Shinpachi knew that Kagura didn't understand, which was the most bizarre of all considering her dysfunctional childhood and family. Considering that berserk was normal for Yato, he wasn't all that surprised. When Gin-san didn't come back by midnight she asked him to stay (he would have anyways), but he didn't think it was because she was scared. Even if she was, she'd never admit it, but that's besides the point. He knew what she was feeling, because he felt it too. The shame at orchestrating the whole thing, and the anger he had at himself for not acting sooner when he saw what was going on. He just sat there, watching the whole thing unfold like some kind of horror film. The only real regret that he had was that they even agreed to the whole thing; his penny-pinching ways had caught up to him! Trusting that Gorilla-stalker was against his better judgement, but a free meal is hard to pass up, especially when they had to feed the bottomless pits that were Kagura and Sadaharu. Kagura had squealed at the mention of meat and even Sadaharu perked up. That was how he knew that if he left to find Gin-san that there would be nothing left for them without supervision. Sougo volunteered because he didn't want to eat anymore ("of that shit" was what he muttered under his breath). That should have been his hint that it wouldn't go well. Now he just felt sick at the idea that he was so excited about the steak to begin with. Worse, Shinpachi didn't know if the head officers of the Shinsengumi seeing Gin-san's event was the reason it was midnight and he still wasn't home, or if it was because Shinpachi and Kagura had seen it. He wished it never happened at all.

He didn't realise what had caused it until afterwards. It happened so fast, with Kagura excitedly calling out to him one second and Gintoki responding with a crooked smile that was so genuine and rare, then the next second Otose had placed the meat in the pan, and his aura changed with it. Shinpachi was sitting close enough to him that he could feel the atmosphere alter; the safe, comforting feeling of being in a place so familiar with friends they all trusted so much they could be family had been broken like a glass shattering. Instantly, the air tensed around him causing the hair on his arm and neck stand up while also subconsciously quieting the room. When he turned around, he saw the looks on Kondou, Hijikata, Kyubei and his sister's faces; he knew that they felt it too. The instant sense of danger Gintoki gave off was infectious. It wasn't that they were feeling he was dangerous, but the sense of impending doom he gave off had Shinpachi's skin crawling and gave the urge to check over his shoulder, or watch the door. Shinpachi watched as Gin-san's grin fell off his face and was replaced with a blank, surreal look, as if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open again, but upright this time. His skin and face looked sweaty and clammy, there was gooseflesh along his arm, and for a moment he remembered that Gintoki was close to thirty because he looked visibly older. It was a strange mix; his expression looked as innocent as a child's, seeing something for the very first time, but his crows feet and laugh lines came out of hiding to give it away. Everybody was really just looking at him, not really understanding, but it was Otose that knew what to do.

"Fuck!" She spat, the most venom he'd heard in her voice. She snapped at Catherine to get her water, the urgency in her tone enough to make Catherine do it without a single complaint. Otose picked out the beef before throwing it at Sadaharu, the dog inhaling it so quickly Kagura didn't have time to protest before it was gone.

"Granny, what'd ya do that for!" She wailed, looking like she wanted to reach down the dog's throat to retrieve it. Otose didn't waste words on a response, just took the glass of water and doused the hotpot after shutting it off. It spluttered and hissed before settling, the sound of the steam stealing everyone's attention.

It was the Shinsengumi captain's voice that drew Shinpachi's attention back to the two sadists. When Okita called out "boss" to him and Gin didn't respond, his red eyes wide and unseeing, he made the easy mistake of going for his wrist to catch his attention. Otose tried to warn him, calling out a quick "don't!", but it was too late. The second Okitas hand made contact with Gin's arm, maybe before even, the man seemed to come back to life possessed. His sword was drawn faster than anyone could blink, his speed unnatural even when drawing with his left hand. Okita tried to step out of the way, but Gintoki was too fast for him. His face was twisted into a snarling look of rage that was shrouded mostly by his yukata sleeve as he pushed Okita back with only the edge of his sword pressed into his throat until his back hit the bar hard enough to knock glasses over. Shinpachi's mouth dropped open at the violent change of events, and everyone else seemed to be too shocked to do or say anything. The only one that kept their composure was Otose who was calmly, but firmly calling out Gintoki's name. At first, Shinpachi didn't think that Gin-san could hear her, but he slowly seemed to come back to himself.

Gintoki was sweating profusely and was close to panting, the hair at the back of his neck was plastered to his skin. Shinpachi watched as recognition dawned in those dead eyes and almost just as quickly as he had come at Okita he stepped away. Gin lowered his sword, but didn't put it away. Shinpachi's gut filled with a terrible, dreaded feeling. Never had he seen Gintoki look so confused and unsure, like he was an actor on the wrong set. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Okita and Shinpachi had a feeling he should get him a glass of water, or make him sit down, or anything. Before he could do any of those things, Gin turned and heaved, bile splattering the floor. He could hear the man gag and gag like his stomach was trying to wring a dry cloth. He stopped eventually, his shoulders shaking. Kagura was getting to her feet, ready to go to him, but when she was halfway across the room, Gin turned. His eyes glossed over her, missing everybody else in the room but Otose. He blurted a quick apology and was gone, leaving them all in stunned silence. Otose was the first one to break it. She grabbed the container of meat Kondo had brought and thrusted it under his nose, the old woman towering over him in every way other than stature. "Take this. Never bring that cheap shit here again." She went to turn away after he took it, but something seemed to come to her mind, and she pointed a long, bony finger with a sharp stiletto nail a centimeter from his eye. "If you tell anybody what happened here, if I hear a damn thing about this leaving the room, I'll sic his kids on you." It wasn't much of a threat, but he, Kagura and Sadaharu all perked up. Kondo laughed nervously, but promised.

When thinking about it now, hours later, he realised it had to be the smell. It didn't smell like any meat in Edo that he'd encountered, but there was nothing else unusual about the situation. Nothing that he could tell anyways. What did he know, he was just a kid and had no idea what soldiers went through. In fact, Gin and Katsura were the only veterans he knew, other than Saigo, who he didn't know very well. Many had been shunned and shamed until they were executed. It didn't help that anyone harbouring a Joui rebel would have their head on display too. This meant that even though he would expect soldiers to display anxiety and other things after the war, he'd never seen it. Shinpachi should have known, in the end. Gin-san was sometimes quick to temper, or sink into a depressive or irritable mood. He should have known that there were underlying reasons he was this way, instead of just chalking him up to being weird. He wasn't always this way, so it was easy to brush off.

He slumped his head and rested it on top of Kagura's, who was pressing next to him. The comfort and heat of the blanket didn't stop the chill that he couldn't get rid of since that dinner. "We have to be more careful, Kagura-chan."

Her voice was carefully blank, but it seemed as if she was ready for him to say something. "If we tiptoe around him, he'll get mad."

"I know. He's not fragile, or broken or- or anything like that, but we need to be there for him. We should talk to Otose about how to help him if he ever gets like that again, or how to prevent it."

"What if he doesn't want help?"

Shinpachi shoved her with his shoulder, annoyed by the deadpan voice. "If we had a problem and we wanted to do it alone, but it was too much for us, do you think he would let us shoulder it by ourselves?"

She didn't respond, didn't need to because she knew the answer already. Plus, he could see the droplets hitting the blanket. His were too, there weren't any words that they needed to say.