The Truth in the Skies

They're trying to get a rise out of you, Hijikata told himself, begging his eyes not to show the sickening terror now stirring his stomach into tight knots. Don't let them win.

"What have you done to him?" Hijikata demanded loudly, speaking with confidence which belied the way his hands quivered in his pockets. "How am I meant to interrogate him like this?" But as he turned back to the door, General Kristen was already gone and the amanto that had been hovering outside was pulling the door to a close.

A drawn-out moan came from behind him and Hijikata forced himself to ignore it, his eyes burning holes into the floor to steady him from turning. His teeth were clenched so hard that his jaw ached. He snapped his gaze up, freezing the amanto mid-motion. "Oi, you," how he wished he had a cigarette in his hand right now to calm his nerves, "tell me what you've done to him. This isn't legal – I'll have you charged." The amanto paused, a sly grin showing off rows of teeth in a mouth too small to fit them all in. Some of the yellowed, jagged fangs protruded out even when his lips were closed. He said nothing, just smiled with silent glee, and then pulled the door to. Hijikata was left alone with Gintoki.

Now that silence fell heavy with the sealing of the door, the sound of Gintoki's hitched breathing was far too thunderous in his ears, just like the roaring of his blood. He swallowed hard and the motion hurt his dried throat. He squeezed his eyes tight shut so as not to let in a sliver of light and turned towards Gintoki … and waited. He braced himself. Inside his mind, he summoned the worst thing he could imagine to settle his stomach, prepare himself for what he knew would be hard viewing. Behind closed lids, he absorbed the look of pain on Gintoki's face, the bruises on his features, the crust of dried blood on his lips … breathed … opened his eyes. He couldn't stop his heart from dropping right down into his feet once more. Of course, reality was always worse. He could handle the bruises, the cuts, the friction burns on his palms where he had been dragged by his feet. He could look upon any broken bones or swollen lips without flinching. All this physical damage was fine, because he had seen Gintoki survive worse. But the way he hung from that chair, eyes open but rolling in his skull, almost knocked Hijikata off his feet. It certainly choked the air from his throat. The way his lips were gasping for air, his fingertips curling and uncurling as he fought pain and consciousness … He staggered closer.

"Gintoki!" He said, laying his hand on Gintoki's neck – it took every bit of resolve he had not to caress his face and cradle his head in his hands. He could feel a steady pulse and Gintoki stirred painfully in a space somewhere between awareness and unconscious. His head kept jolting like he was falling.

"-jkata." Gintoki murmured. He didn't know if it was sleep-talking or if Gintoki knew he was here with him. His eyes were fluttering but not focussing "H-jkata." He said again and Hijikata realised he was searching for reassurance.
"I'm here," he said, knowing he was getting too close. He was playing right into their hands. They would be watching. "Gintoki, I'm here."

The man fell quiet and Hijikata wondered if he had lost the battle to stay alert. He fretted silently over what to do. Surely, Kristen knew that Hijikata could not extract a truthful and reliable confession from Gintoki when he was in this state. Therefore, he must have an ulterior motive. What was he trying to prove? If Hijikata gave them a location of Katsura now, what would it be proving? His head was beginning to hurt, the pain behind his eyes like a screw drilling slowly into his skull.

"Kagura … Sh…pachi?" It took Hijikata a second to realise that this was a question, not just the mumbles of a sleep-talker.

"They're well. Or, as good as you can expect in the circumstances."

"Mm," came the response. He soothed his thumb across Gintoki's jawline. Surely, this man had suffered enough. Why was this happening to him? His brow creased, darkening his eyes. "What," he panted, and Hijikata had to wait an age for the rest of the sentence to choke from his mouth. "have they … done … to me?" And Hijikata nearly cracked there and then. He was losing his self-control. It was a constant battle to remain apathetic and distant when there was so much devastation tearing him to pieces on the inside. He had to touch him again. This time, he soothed the dark lines under Gintoki's eyes. Gintoki's head rolled into the touch. For Gintoki to be in this sort of state … had they given him something? Was there some sort of toxin or drug moving through his system? He analysed the symptoms once more: groggy, confused, paralysed. It seemed likely.

It suddenly hit him – why Kristen had put Gintoki into this state prior to their meeting. Not only was Kristen berating Hijikata, punishing him for challenging his authority, but he was proving that Hijikata was involved with the Joui. The deal was for Hijikata to extract a confession out of Gintoki that would indicate where Katsura could be found, in return for an extension. Gintoki could not give a statement in this state. Therefore, if Hijikata came to Kristen with the location of Katsura, it would prove that Hijikata had gotten the information from elsewhere. Either Hijikata gave himself and Katsura away, or Gintoki did not receive his extension and would be executed in less than a month. On both occasions, Kristen would have something to gain from this.

"Fuck this," Hijikata moaned, so desperately fighting the urge to drop down beside Gintoki and hold him. He couldn't find a way out. He needed to speak with Kondo, ask him what to do. "Shall I just bust you out? Here and now?" He was seriously debating it. He could hoist the man over his shoulder and run at full sprint. God help anyone who tried to stop him. Neither of them could ever return to Kabuki. He would never be able to return to the Shinsengumi. However, they would both be alive. Gintoki would not have to put up with this torture any longer. As the thunder of his heart beat loud in his ears, a hand searched through the air to rest on his forearm. Gintoki's hand grasped him, lightly. He was trying to say something, but the words were too hoarse, the sound like gravel.

He allowed his fingers to wander over the bruises on Gintoki's cheekbones. Gintoki was still leaning into his other hand, panting softly. His eyes were open but hazy, like he was squinting through frosted glass. "What do I do?" Hijikata wondered aloud. He probably didn't have much time left, and he certainly didn't have many options open to him. There was one thing certain in his mind. He was not going to mope around any longer. He was not going to let Gintoki rot in a cell whilst he cried alone, praying that someone else would come along and solve all his problems with the wave of a magic wand. In his mind, he set a deadline. If in the next three weeks, he could not make certain that Gintoki would be released, he would break in and free Gintoki himself. Regardless of the consequences.

Gintoki's grip on his arm tightened as he regained his energy, moving his clouded eyes through the space between them to search for Hijikata's face. And then appeared a look of grit. Gintoki found Hijikata's eyes and latched on, his gaze showing a moment of clarity despite his ragged breathing. His face tightened and it was quiet fury in his expression. His lips pulled taut and eyes narrowed, brows lowering to shadow the crimson orbs focussed on Hijikata. It took a few seconds for the words to come out of Gintoki's failing breaths and all the while, his body jittered like he was lagging in a video game. Finally, he moved his lips succinctly around the words,

"You need to go," he said, one eye beginning to twitch as he fought the drugs in his system. "You know they're … playing with you. You need to … go."

"I'm here to extract a confession from a criminal; I'm not here to be played with." Hijikata replied. He tried to keep his tone stern, yet he was whispering like a raised voice would crack Gintoki in two.

"You need to think from the enemy's view. You're too focussed on me. Think of the bigger picture." Each sentence was laboured, but Gintoki managed to hold on, though his face sometimes crumpled in pain. He always took a breath and regained himself. Hijikata considered his words.

Think of the bigger picture? Did that mean, he should be thinking of how to defeat SparrowHawk and not how to free Gintoki?

How could he do that when there was an hourglass running out of flowing sand?

The hand on his arm let go, and for a second Hijikata's heart dropped into his feet. When he saw that Gintoki was still holding his gaze ferociously, he calmed. There was a fire in Gintoki's eyes that spelled disaster, chaos and a whole empire burning under their feet. Eyes that would call for revolution. Eyes that reminded him … of himself.

Had he really been himself since he had been kidnapped by Skylark? No, clearly not. By the fact that his torturers still breathed, and their genitals were still attached, Hijikata realised that he had never truly recovered. He knew his physical state had suffered, but he had never questioned that he was the same man who had disappeared that day. The truth of the matter was, he had changed. And he would make sure now that this change was remedied, for there were bodies to burn. Hijikata felt stronger than he had in months. His limbs were renewed with pumping hot blood, fuelling his muscles with tension ready to burst. Gintoki's lips lifted up into a smirk.

"That's it, Vice Commander," he smiled, baring his own teeth, "go get 'em tiger."

Hijikata turned his back on Gintoki, because Gintoki didn't matter right now. Staring at his hopeless and bloodied body would not help their situation, and more so, it was spiralling him down a path of morbidity and despair. The vice-commander had never been a person to sit and watch his men be questioned, his organisation be threatened by an alien. He was not someone so weak as to fall apart over another man. This wasn't a situation of despondency; it was one of revenge – and Vengeance kept his name on its tongue. General Kristen would not get his confession today, and Gintoki would not get his extension – the Shinsengumi did not bargain with the enemy. Hijikata flung open the door, startling the amanto awaiting on the other side who was nearly flattened by the flash of metal swinging back on its hinges. He looked down at the creature and eyed it for a second. The amanto quivered, still shaken by the surprise.

"No confession, he wouldn't talk," Hijikata said. "Tell Kristen that the Shiroyasha chose his life over that of his allies."

Hijikata span on his heel and stormed off, leaving in his wake the startled amanto, blinking in confusion. Mid-stride, he pulled his phone from his pocket and waited until he was out of the building before hitting call. For once, Sougo decided to answer on the first try.

"How's danna?" Sougo drawled, showing surprising concern despite his emotionally detached personality. Hijikata ignored the question.

"When I get back, I want everything we know on Skylark briefed to me. Get everyone not on patrol to prepare the information. I'll be half an hour."

"Skylark? Do you mean SparrowHawk?"

"Skylark." Hijikata nodded. Sougo hummed, the sound crackling through the speaker.

"I thought your main effort was busting danna out of there?"

"I've got a hunch. We've been focussing on the wrong direction. Anyhow, there's a gang of men out there with the name of my sword etched onto their vital organs." Hijikata heard a snort that sounded like Sougo was laughing.

"Well I'm glad you've had this epiphany, but I've got plans this afternoon. Yamazaki is free." And Sougo hung up before Hijikata could unleash a string of swear words at him.

"Damn that lazy bastard."

He had a hunch, and it was Gintoki who had woken him up. Surely a year ago he would have noticed this trend straight away. His senses had grown dull. He had let his negativity take over his entire being, clouding his judgement. It was risk – acting on merely gut feeling – but Hijikata was not so successful a commander from avoiding risk. It was high risks paying off that demonstrated just how good his intuition was, and right now, his senses were buzzing. His mind felt clear. All it had taken was for Gintoki to remind him of his priorities. It had never been Gintoki. And Gintoki's priority had never been him. That's why it worked.

God it was a risk. The thought of his being wrong and wasting several weeks following the trail of a fairy tale made his heart pound at his ribcage. But he would not be restrained by negativity any longer. Skylark and SparrowHawk had arisen in quick succession, with Skylark gaining sudden popularity despite years of relative terrorist peace – even Katsura had stopped his more violent campaigns, whilst Takasugi had always turned his eyes outwards to a bigger picture. And then his disappearance had been so perfectly planned that no one had ever figured out entirely what had happened, and because Hijikata could not remember, the truth never came about. Yet these same terrorists often used mediocre and below-the-belt tactics that reeked of just that – tactical thinking and not strategic. When had they spurted so far up the intellectual scale and planned something so remarkable that even today, the perpetrators remained unknown? And how likely was it that there would be an alien organisation ready and prepped to take action against them?

What else was going on here?

Gintoki was right, he had been blind sighted by looking down at his feet all this time, instead of looking up at the skies where the birds take flight.