6. redemption
-x-
Had Tsukuyo's eyesight been in better shape, she would have held more awe for the man who was no longer Sakata Gintoki, but a beast of rage and bitterness. For he was beautiful and terrible at the same time. His fury was ignited when he was struck by something that violated the inner darkness of his soul. And his greatest weakness was that he could not bear witnessing the mistreatment of a teacher towards his students. To him, it was beyond sacrilegious. His eyes snapped red, his muscles tensed with the instinct of a born warrior raised from the depths of hell.
And for the first time, as Jiraia rose from the ground, he was afraid. For he was used to hunting prey whom held fear and weakness in their eyes. The soldier who approached him was far from prey.
Tsukuyo's voice was weak when she lifted her head. "Sakata-san, don't... Don't hurt him."
He ignored her.
"Teachers don't lay their hands on students when they're wrongly accused," Gintoki said, his voice tempered by animosity. "How dare you attack her."
"I have no quarrel with you, Shiroyasha-dono," Jiraia said smoothly. "But - "
"But what?" Gintoki interrupted vengefully. "That this is a business only reserved between you and your precious student? That she's not allowed to make up her mind when something is wrong in this city?"
Now Jiraia was becoming amused, and Tsukuyo's skin prickled at the foreboding sensation of dread crawling all over her back.
"Don't tell me you really believe that you can attempt to steal the most beautiful woman in all of Japan from under Hosen's nose."
"It would make for quite a legend, wouldn't it," Gintoki conceded, baring his fangs.
"As amusing as that would be, I can't waste any time on you."
Throwing powder at his feet, the entire hall turned pitch black in seconds, and though Gintoki could sense the direction of Jiraia's movements, he was still too late when the smoke cleared up from his watering eyes.
And all too suddenly, he knew that what he had feared had come to pass.
Tsukuyo was missing.
-x-
Jiraia had set the tower on fire. Before Gintoki knew it, more sparks flew near his feet, and he scrambled to the staircase before the flames could swallow him whole. His survivor instincts kicked in, pushing away the rage that had so consumed him minutes before. Running quickly down the stairs he shielded his head with his arm, taking care that his eyes would be safe from the falling debris.
Where could Tsukuyo be? he wondered briefly, before focusing his attentions on getting down safely. It was no use to look for her now. He only hoped that she had managed to escape from the inferno.
Not too long after, he had reached the lowest floor of the tower, ducking away from a nearby collapsing rail. A big grizzled man with a black umbrella was standing outside, looking up at the tower.
-x-
I came, I saw, and I conquered. Or so I thought I did.
A bit of Hosen's heart had crumbled away as he gazed at the balcony that had once held a beautiful woman whom had sat with her back straight, her eyes clear and virtuous. He would later mistake it as anger, as he had never fully comprehended the notion of love. Instead he had chosen to mask it in displays of abuse and dominance, for he could never forgive himself for being attached to a human. Now she had burned to ashes in that tower.
And it was then, that he realized he had never truly broken her spirit.
He turned slowly to Gintoki, who simply stood, observing him from a distance away.
"Did you do this?" Hosen asked calmly. His Japanese was flawless, having lived in Yoshiwara for more than over a decade now.
"No."
The Yato snorted. "You are a liar and an insurgent. But I say, you are remarkably stupid for choosing to come here to your own death."
"I don't intend on dying."
"Spare your words, for I care not of a lying man's gravestone script." Jiraia laughed bitterly, lifting up his umbrella. It was enormous, spanning more than six feet in length. A split second later, a giant hole in the wall was blasted away, Gintoki deftly moving away from the weapon.
"Dead men ought to be quiet," Hosen said indifferently. He looked up at the balcony once more. "I had this feeling. Just a funny feeling, that everything was going to crash and burn before my eyes."
"I suppose you've never feel sorry for the women here?" Gintoki asked, walking a slow circle around Jiraia, his eyes alert and dangerous. "Have you ever thought a bit of sunlight might be good for them, once in a while?"
Jiraia chuckled with the small amusement that came so easily for him after years of fighting.
"What delusions are you speaking of? I came here. I conquered you puny humans. And I have taken your women and your city as my reward."
-x-
Jiraia dropped Tsukuyo down in the dungeon below the Sun Tower. Coughing, she crawled on her arms and legs before looking up, her eyes straining in the dark.
"What have you become, Tsukuyo?"
She rolled out of the way before his leg made contact with her stomach, quickly scrambling to stand on her two feet. "Shishou - "
"You little bitch," he said with disgust. "Did you think I'd never find out?"
"Find out what, Shishou?"
"Don't play games with me!" he shouted. Like a flash of lightning, the next blow came quickly but powerfully. Tsukuyo could feel her back slamming into the wall, her jaw aching from the pressure.
"You think that you can come in here, rescue women who were meant to be killed?" he asked. "They're killed for a goddamn reason!"
She wiped her mouth. "But they're people too!" she protested. She was bewildered why her master had suddenly become so angry. Rarely did Jiraia ever lose his temper with her; it was usually Tsukuyo - naturally impatient and haughty - who would retaliate at the merest provocation.
Jiraia hit her again, this time square in the chest. Tsukuyo's lungs stopped for a moment before her body crashed into a pillar, leaving cracks into the wooden surface.
"You can't get attached to people, goddamn you!" he roared. "What the hell do you think this place is, huh?"
Unconsciously she cowered under his gaze, her bruised arms lifting feebly to defend helplessly against his next action.
"Shishou, please - "
"Don't beg!" he shouted at her, shaking her so hard that her head became dizzy, her vision blurred from disorientation. "I taught you better than that!"
She pushed his arms away from her, trying to focus and throw out desperate words - words that she hoped would placate him. "Shishou, if you would just calm down! For God's sake - "
"How can I calm down when my student is filthy and corrupted!" he screamed. "In just a week you're infatuated with a man!"
"I am NOT in love with that samurai!" she yelled back, hurt. She rolled away from Jiraia as he finally stilled, his eyes fixated on her. "And I am not filthy and corrupted!"
"Tsukuyo... you were such a beautiful moon," he said mournfully. "You were my beautiful creation - my soldier, my perfect warrior... "
A kunai slipped from his wrist, and he gripped it expertly. "I always forget that people are, alas, human... "
"Shishou, NO!" she yelled, her eyes widening. "NO, NO, NO - "
He charged straight at her, and she leapt, jumping up to the side beams near the ceiling. Inwardly she was shaking. She had never expected her master to want to hurt her, much less kill her.
"You can't hide from me," Jiraia snarled.
"Shishou, please," Tsukuyo begged again, only to be rewarded with a kunai, stuck firmly into the wooden pillar. A wisp of blonde hair floated down, severed from her own head.
"You have failed me," her master observed dispassionately. He lifted his hand again, this time with four kunais between his fingers. Tsukuyo quickly recognized this as a killing movement, designed to be lethal. She had seen this executed on criminals and the worst of rapists before, leaving their limbs torn apart.
A lump lodged in her throat, and already she could feel the formation of tears in her eyes.
Was this what years of oppression had come to?
Was this to be the end?
Was she to die, nameless, before the man whom had once saved her?
As she suddenly became aware of her death, a fire had lit up in her spirit, slowing down time and causing her body to move based on instinct rather than any form of conscious thought. Years of living in a cage had never dampened her hope that one day, she would have escaped. Though she could have never articulated it herself, she had been blessed with the gifts of self-preservation.
I want answers before I die, goddamn it. Curling her fist, she jumped down from the pillar with a vengeful roar, and tackled Jiraia with all over her strength.
-x-
"Why are you samurai so intent on hating us?" Hosen asked, his eyes narrowed.
"... We don't," Gintoki said. His voice was quiet. Behind him, the building's fire had started to work its way down. He was aware of the fact that there were more female soldiers lurking in the shadows. He hoped that one of them would rescue the other unconscious soldiers whom were still lying on the first floor of the building.
"It's a disgrace," Hosen replied, eyes hard and fist clenched. "You ought to turn tail, retreat. After all... you will lose. Or is it that you prefer dying a beautiful death?"
"If I had time to fantasize about a beautiful death, I wouldn't be here." Gintoki replied, unsheathing his sword.
"Ah, are you sure about that?" Hosen grinned, sure that this human was insane. Who else on earth would even dare challenge him, the King of Yatos? It was ridiculous to even assume that a mere human could even lay their hands on their weakest warriors.
He didn't give Gintoki time to think about what a foolish choice he was making. Whirling his enormous umbrella, he aimed for the samurai's chest.
He had miscalculated, however. Instantaneously, Gintoki leapt over his weapon, swinging his sword at Hosen's head, cackling with glee.
"You'll have to do better than that, sir!" he crowed.
What a thrill, Hosen thought, right before he flipped backwards, missing the metal by a few centimeters. His feet dug into the floor, gaining traction as he straightened his body upright again. How long had it been since he last fought? Twenty years?
Unbeknownst to him, Gintoki took steps back, making sure that he was clearly visible from the top of Yoshiwara's ceiling. The Sun Tower was in the middle of the red light city. If the window was to open at the precise moment, it would guarantee his death. But there were no certainties. At the very least, Hosen would need to be incapacitated.
He lightly sidestepped Hosen, dodging the monster's every move. Though the Yato was old, his speed was no slower than the swordsmanship of Katsura nor Takasugi's - a fact that made this very battle dangerous. Gintoki was experienced enough to not underestimate any of his enemies, especially not for a Yato of such reputation.
Still, Hosen was treating him as if he was an irksome fly. Gintoki was dodging his blows, too many for Hosen to keep his patience. Impudent human, he thought furiously to himself.
"What's wrong, old man?" the samurai taunted, his eyes sharp and alert. "Cat got your own tongue?"
"I notice you're not attacking," Hosen retorted.
"You only wish I wasn't," Gintoki said, and twisted the cap of a grenade off with his teeth.
-x-
"My parents sold me as a slave. I've fought in this cage before with only tooth and nail. You're not taking me out that easily," Tsukuyo snarled, her tanto sword pressed against Jiraia's jugular. His wrists and ankles had been pierced by knives.
"So kill me," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing against the cool metal of her kunai.
"But I want to know WHY!" she screamed, her grip tightening on his neck. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Her eyes stung from the tears that were threatening to spill out.
"You're my shishou," Tsukuyo choked out, not knowing if she was angry or sad or both. "You're not supposed to be like this."
"You have betrayed me," Jiraia said simply, closing his eyes.
"I would have died for you," she whispered. The flicker of fury came back, overwhelming the pain in her heart. She raised her hand to sever the chord between life and death.
And then something held her back. The kunai fell out of her hand with an empty clang.
"Shishou, why are you lying to me?" Tsukuyo asked. "This is not like you. Why are you doing this?"
-x-
The explosion was spectacular, Gintoki running backwards as swiftly as he could so he could keep an eye on Hosen. His fingers were plugged into his ears, and he winced as the debris fell near his head. He should have brought a helmet, which was the thing that Sakamoto would wear, but he figured it was too uncool for him here. Now he was regretting that decision as the tower threatened to collapse.
Hosen emerged from the smoke, coughing. He regarded the loss of an arm as proof that he was facing a worthy adversary. Calmly wrapping a rag around what was left of his limb, he addressed Gintoki in the middle of rubble.
"You've made a mistake coming here," he said, his voice low and pleasant. "I could have forgiven you and let you escape alive. But now, no way."
"Well, lucky for the both of us, that makes two of us." Gintoki wiped the soot off his forehead with a dirty sleeve. "I also intend on killing you."
"At what cost, samurai-san? I could crush your bones, so that you become a pathetic hollow of a human. I could twist off your neck."
"We'll see," Gintoki said, and met Hosen's blow, finally, with the strength of two swords. It nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs as he was confronted with the sheer brunt of the Yato's power.
And he's doing this with one hand? This is crazy! his mind shouted at him. Gintoki gritted his teeth, narrowing his focus on gathering all his strength for the moment.
Keep hanging on, goddamn it, he thought.
"Give up, human," Hosen said, smug. "My strength has killed Yato with twice your abilities."
"I'm worth more than any Yato!" Gintoki snarled. "I took off your arm, didn't I?"
That quip cost the samurai a blow into a nearby building, Hosen slamming him into a bamboo floor. The pain battered him like a bag of bricks, and he suppressed a groan as he struggled to stand up again.
The Amanto stood above Gintoki, grinning maniacally before slamming his fist a centimeter away from Gintoki's head. The dent made was considerable. With no time to lose, the samurai aimed his knuckles at Hosen's nose, breaking the cartilage with a nasty crack.
Roaring in pain, Hosen backed away, while Gintoki stood up, panting. He limped over to fetch his sword, never taking his eyes off his enemy.
His master would not have approved of this tactic. Shoyou-sensei was man of proper etiquette, especially during a fight. But Gintoki had deserted the ideals of bushido long before stepping into the battlefield. Here, he couldn't afford the courtesies that a feudal warlord would usually employ, especially when dealing with savages. And anything who deemed it morally acceptable to enslave women for sexual pleasure in such conditions was past beyond any redemption, in his opinion.
Still, he couldn't take this moment for granted. Yatos healed quickly, and although he was told that they could not regenerate limbs, one could never underestimate them too lightly.
He flexed his arms, and charged directly at Hosen.
-x-
"Kill me," Jiraia said.
"I said no. I refuse. I won't have this on my conscience!" Tsukuyo finally rose from the ground, her feet shaking as her eyes finally took in the damage that she had inflicted on her master. It made her feel sick. Defiled. She could smell his blood on her hands. Had she truly been prepared to murder the man who had raised her from childhood?
"What if I offered you the helm of the Hyakka? Would you do it then?"
"Don't tempt me!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the darkness. "I won't defend this cage anymore! I can't!"
"You can, and you will," he said disdainfully. "How on earth do you think you can take down Hosen?"
"Shut up!" she retorted. But inwardly, she was beginning to panic. Maybe I was an idiot to trust Gintoki, she thought, distraught.
"I can see your doubt, your shame," Jiraia murmured. "You will never escape Yoshiwara. It will be the fate of every woman who steps through these gates to remain enslaved."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Tsukuyo yelled. For a moment she closed her eyes, wishing that everything would go away. If only there was something to believe in, something she could put her faith in! Hinowa, help me!
Hinowa. My sister, my beloved. I should go to her.
The image of the calm, benevolent woman calmed her down. Breathe in, Tsukuyo. You've got this.
Slowly, she made her way to her master, still pinned helplessly beneath his wires. Kneeling down next to his side, she made a vow.
"I won't be like you, Shishou. I never wanted to be a killer. I never wanted to be like this. To hurt you like the way you are," she whispered.
"But you did. You are," he insisted. And then he coughed out blood. "... an excellent killer... Tsukuyo."
"No I'm not," she said, her eyes downcast. "I haven't got the heart for it. I can't kill innocent people in good conscience. And I won't do it anymore."
The courtesan stood up, and closed the dungeon doors behind her.
-x-
There was a group of women armed to the teeth waiting for her down below. Tsukuyo surveyed them coolly, wondering if Jiraia had instructed them to wait for her. She decided to play it safe.
"Evening, ladies," she greeted them. "What's the problem?"
"Traitor!" someone yelled out.
Well then. Tsukuyo tilted her head, frowning. They could prove to be a very big obstacle if she did not immediately obliterate them.
"Who told you?"
"Jiraia-sama, of course! You've been collaborating with Sakata Gintoki to endanger our lives!"
"And how would two people endanger your lives, may I ask?" Her voice was growing sharp. I don't have time for this, she thought angrily to herself. I need to go to Hinowa. Her life might be in peril as we speak.
"Don't lie, Shinigami Dayuu! I won't let you attack Hosen-sama. Not when my life is in danger from being accused of treachery!"
Tsukuyo was furious. "Treachery?" she asked, hissing out the word as if it was a curse. "How dare you accuse me of treachery, when I'm risking my life for the freedom of every one of you in this very room."
"It is true. I'm taking a risk by committing a betrayal to Hosen," she said, her voice clear and proud. "But take a look at this city! For over twenty years, we've been enslaved by a monster who cares little for us. He's raped and pillaged our Yoshiwara. He's taken us away from our villages. Is this your idea of living, to be in a cage forever?" Tsukuyo took a step towards them. "Fear of pregnancy, fear of love. This ain't a way for women to live."
"But do we have any other choice?" a soldier asked. She pushed her mask down, revealing a scar just like Tsukuyo's.
"If we don't work together right now, we won't stand a bloody chance." Tsukuyo said. The courtesan looked at everyone straight in the eye, her gaze skipping no one.
"I won't hold grudges if you choose not ta follow me," she began, her eyes sweeping across the room. "But many of you owe a debt to me. The only favor I want to ask of you is to let me go."
The room was silent. Then the soldier whom had already spoken walked forth to take her place next to Tsukuyo. "You saved my life, once," she said humbly. "It would be an honor to lay mine down for yours."
-x-
to be continued
-x-