a/n: Unfortunately the smutty one-shot I talked about prior hasn't been getting any proper work done on it due to me devoting all my spare time to this fic, so apologies to those who are looking forward to it. LOL! But after this fic is done I'm sure I'll be able to post it...
16. broken
That night, Tsukuyo came back to Yoshiwara in a daze, as if nothing mattered. On her shifts at work, she found herself listlessly wanting to be somewhere else. Where that place might happen to be, she wasn't sure. Her mind was constantly distracted.
The Shiroyasha's arrest was the talk of the town. Everyone had speculated what had happened, and had wondered what had become of the Kiheitai, which had widely been considered one of the strongest forces against the Amanto due to their unconventional style of fighting that didn't rely on old battle tactics like the first generation of the Jouishishi. If the Bakufu had gotten their grubby hands on Gintoki, then this was most definitely a bad sign for things to come, especially for those who sided against the government.
Hinowa kept looking at her, but Tsukuyo would ignore her pointed glances, still lost at what to do. She knew what Jiraia would have said; these events of misfortune were simply consequences to being involved in hopeless causes. Gintoki was a soldier on the wrong side of the war, and probably had taken more lives than anybody else still left to tell the tale. Why shouldn't he be punished for his sins? It wasn't as if the samurai's hands were clean either, even if they pretended otherwise. Tsukuyo had lived in Yoshiwara for too long not to see the grittier parts of them that nobody wanted to talk about - including but not limited to the abuse they heaped onto their children and wives, the strain of resources that they'd inflicted on the civilians, not to mention the level of corruption that had put even the former Shogun to shame.
Still, she herself had no such qualms about morality; the duty of a shinobi meant that she was responsible for severing the ties between life and death if she deemed it necessary. It was true, that had Tsukuyo not been sold to Yoshiwara, she wouldn't have chosen this life for herself. Despite that, she had made the best of out of her circumstances as possible, and she wasn't ashamed of it. If Gintoki was considered a murderer, than she knew was one too, having once viciously defended her home against those who chose to abuse women in cold blood.
But as the leader of the Hyakka, she was no longer an individual who could act of her own will. She had responsibilities to fulfill, had a city to protect, and had pledged her life to this corner of Earth no matter what happened.
And yet, her heart was torn.
-x-
"What do you think you'll do?" Hinowa finally asked her one night, her eyebrows furrowing into a worried expression. Naturally, she was concerned for her sister.
And Tsukuyo had looked straight in her eye, and answered, "Nothing."
Which had been a complete lie, of course. Hinowa wasn't convinced, but at Tsukuyo's intense look, she didn't press as hard as she should have.
"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to do something about it," her sister had said, pouring her a cup of tea as was their custom before Tsukuyo's night shift.
"This is a no-man's land," she replied, taking a puff from her kiseru. "And how on earth would I be able to bypass the most guarded prison in the country?"
Hinowa looked thoughtful. "Well, you did manage to enter the Shogun's castle, yes?"
"Under the pretense of another courtesan."
Her sister smiled sweetly. "That's the point. Men tend to underestimate women, do they not?"
Tsukuyo scowled. "To their detriment."
"Exactly." Hinowa drank her own cup of tea. "I trust you will do the right thing." She had smiled benevolently at Tsukuyo then, as if she'd known exactly what she going to do.
The day after, Tsukuyo carefully dressed herself in a kimono that was decidedly less ostentatious than the ones donned in Yoshiwara. It was an elegant, yet understated pale blue piece of clothing that had golden leaves embroidered near the bottom of it. Her golden hair had been twisted into a tight bun with the help of a lacquered hair pin, and a very light layer of white powder had been buffed onto her skin. She then slipped into her tabi, choosing to wear wooden clogs for today.
Underneath her sleeves, her kunai was hidden, and she'd strapped a tantou sword around her left thigh. A silk pouch carrying a rag soaked in chloroform was tucked away in her sash. Her master had often told her to take advantage of the disguises afforded by the contemporary dress of Edo-ites, and she had taken extra time to do as such.
She didn't need directions to know where he'd be kept. As the elevators took her all the way to the surface, she looked down on Yoshiwara, hoping that it wouldn't be the last time she saw the floating city.
-x-
There was a huge crowd of people in the prison block, but none of them were going inside the building. Another wagon of prisoners had been shipped in, and she saw that they'd been bound in rope and guarded carefully by the Amanto who held firearms, ready to shoot if they saw there were any signs of escaping.
"Poor them," she heard somebody say. "They won't last in there for a week."
"They deserved it," was the response of another. "They should've committed seppuku before letting themselves get caught by the enemy."
Tsukuyo walked towards the guard's entrance, where other people were standing patiently in a straight line. On edge, she glanced at an older woman, who was holding a box wrapped in cloth.
The woman had met her questioning gaze with kind eyes. "You're new here."
Hesitantly, she nodded.
"I'm visiting my son. What about you?"
For some reason, Tsukuyo couldn't immediately think of an answer. "I... " Her eyes were lowered. "Someone important to me," she said finally, after a few seconds had passed.
"I see." With a knowing smile, the woman turned her head away from her. "The guards allow ten people to visit each day; I've been waiting here for a while. But I think they'll let a pretty little thing like you in... they tend to like the younger women."
Although her disguise was worn for exactly this reason, it didn't stop Tsukuyo from turning pink.
Coughing, she decided to change the subject. "Was your son a samurai?"
"No. He was a political opponent. He never liked what the Bakufu stood for, and he started to protest against the atrocities. Unfortunately, they caught him and rigged him on false charges."
"Oh."
"Don't worry," the woman reassured her. "I don't think they'll execute him anytime soon. He was a very popular figure. They wouldn't want to incite a riot. Compared to the Kiheitai, he hasn't done anything wrong, in my opinion."
Tsukuyo was smart enough to keep silent at that. There was a tense mood in the air; with the looming, unspoken threat of execution all around them, she could sense the anxiety from the others who were also waiting in the same line as she was. Some of them were mothers, like the one standing next to her. Some of them were young children. All of them seemed terrified of the guards, who kept an eye on them.
"They'll start selecting who'll go in at noon," the woman said. Tsukuyo glanced at the sky; there was another hour to go before the sun reached its peak.
-x-
"And who do you want to see today?" A garish looking Amanto with the head of a leopard had asked her the question.
She looked at him straight in the eye. "I'm here to see Sakata Gintoki."
He chuckled. "I don't think so, miss."
"Please. He's my... brother." Tsukuyo looked slightly abashed, putting a hand on her chin in concern, every bit the perfect picture of a delicate maiden. "I want to see him before he's executed. I know we haven't been the closest of siblings... we argued over him joining the war years and years, but he insisted on joining those rebels anyway."
The Amanto's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "... Huh. How do I know you're telling me the truth? You don't look anything like him."
"My father adopted him." Tsukuyo placed her hand on top of the guard's, smiling as gently as she could. "If you don't believe me, he's got a scar on his back running from his shoulder blade to his side. You could check him, if you'd like..."
Unbeknownst to the rest of the people who had waited in line, she had slipped him a small bar of gold in his palm, taking care to fold his fingers over it before letting go of his hand. With a look of dawning comprehension, the Amanto finally stepped back, and smirked. "Hmmph, no need. Well, even if you saw him, he's in no condition to speak, really." He waved her over to the line next to the gate, though.
Miraculously, they hadn't frisked her for any weapons. Their loss, really. Someone had led her to a corridor, separating her from the rest of the prisoners, and she mentally took notes of the corners they walked through.
The guard had led her to a private cell down in the dungeons, and had unlocked the double barricaded entrance, pressing a whistle in her palm.
"Please let us know if he attacks you, miss. This is a very dangerous man - a demon who has killed thousands of people. We'll come to rescue you as soon as possible."
She nodded. The doors closed behind her.
And then she turned around, only to be confronted with a silent and immovable man.
-x-
When she saw Gintoki behind bars, she wanted to weep.
She knew that the government was cruel. But to see her beloved bruised and bloody... it shattered her. He looked tired and dirty, a far cry from the shining Shiroyasha she had first met months ago. One of his eyes was mottled purple and black. With a customary glance, it'd been clear that he'd been beaten up a few times.
To her relief, she couldn't detect any sign of broken bones... yet.
"What happened to you?" she whispered, her voice small and fearful.
"You shouldn't be here," he said instead, refusing to answer her question. His eyes were cold like ice.
She bit her lip, not knowing what to say. I'm sorry seemed woefully inadequate for the situation he was in, and yet everything about this seemed impossible to believe.
He should have been able to escape. Having seen his strength at full throttle once, she knew he had the ability to do feats that were unhindered by normal constraints. If he was here, that meant something had fundamentally changed him since the last time they'd met. Sakata Gintoki wasn't someone who would give up. He'd been the one urging her to take a chance on overthrowing Hosen from Yoshiwara's cage. He believed in the impossible, and had made her see things that she couldn't beforehand. To see him broken inside frightened her beyond anything she'd known before.
What happened to him?
"I saw the posters," she finally said, and resisted the urge to take out her kiseru. "Don't tell me that you're... really planning on dying this way?"
He laughed bitterly, and it sounded like icy shards of glass pressed against her skin. "What choice do I have?"
"What of your men?"
"Dead."
"And your friends?"
"They're not my friends," he said, and this time his voice was the color of pitch black. Something twisted and snapped in her heart, and she'd felt a horrible sensation of understanding that he would never tell her, might never be able to know what it was that caused him to talk like this.
She swallowed.
"Gintoki... I'll help you escape."
"Now why would you do that?" he asked, and his voice was blithe, as if he didn't care whether she wanted to or not.
"Because... " I love you, she wanted to say, and as soon as the thought came to her mind, she knew it to be truer than true, as solid as the ground that she stood on. But nothing came to her mouth, her words dying before they could spill out like broken promises and unspoken hopes that would never come to pass. "Because you deserve to live," she finally said, finishing her sentence. "Because I could hide you in Yoshiwara until everything blows over."
"No I don't. And you can't. Not from them." Now he gave her a strange look, as if he knew what she'd been thinking.
"Gintoki." She forced herself to ignore the blind panic that had arisen in her chest. "Please don't die. People care about you. So many people look up to you."
I'm one of them, she thought, thinking of all the nights where she had prayed to a nameless deity, hoping for him to come back to her in one piece.
He laughed, tilting his head backwards. He laughed so hard he almost cried. The sound of his laughter bounced around the cell, hollow and empty like the bones that laid to rest on the battlefield, their ghosts hiding in plain sight. When he stopped, the silence became oppressive, suffocating her so deeply from all sides that she felt like she couldn't breathe.
"I've led them to a Hell where I belong," he said pleasantly, as if she had told him a joke all along.
"Stop talking like this!" Tsukuyo nearly shouted at him, her hand trembling. "Please, Gintoki." And now the tears streamed down her eyes. "I don't know what happened to you, or what you did, but I don't care. If you're going to hell, then I am too. Please let me help you."
"With all respects, Shinigami Dayuu, why should I ask you to help me? Maybe you could deliver me to hell earlier than these Bakufu dogs?" he asked slyly.
Her skin turned white, and for half a second she could barely see from the rage that came bubbling up inside of her. "No, for God's sake, Gintoki! I don't want you to die, so why would I kill you?"
Impulsively, she placed her hand on her chest, and took a deep breath. "I'm here because I love you, and I want to save you!"
There. Now the secret was out, no take backs.
The seconds ticked by, and for a while, he just stared at her in disbelief.
And then... he frowned.
He sighed, ruffling his hand through his hair. "This was a mistake. I never meant for us to get this far; I just wanted you for a night. I didn't ask you to rescue me, or - "
Time had stopped. By now, she tuned him out even though she could see him saying crueler, more hurtful things. Like a metronome, his words repeated themselves in her head, slamming her psyche with the force of a sledgehammer.
A mistake.
I never meant for us to get this far.
I just wanted you for a night.
Her throat closed, and for a half a second, she allowed herself that flash of pain to sear across every molecule of her body, right before her eyes had dried and she'd given up any hope of salvaging the situation. She knew she'd been a fool; especially for someone like her who had no right to hope for something more than a beautiful memory. And in that moment, her heart had cracked into two, and she wanted to sink into a hole because of how bad it all felt, right before she let her hand fall to her side and there weren't any words to say to him, the sole keeper of her heart.
Jiraia had been right.
And maybe, good riddance to it all. Maybe now, she could say that she learned her lesson, even if she had to do it the hard way. Maybe now she could renounce the death of her womanhood, and live unencumbered without the shackles of hope and dreams that every other courtesan brought with them once they were forever trapped in the red light district. Because if this was what entailed of love, having to go through the crushing lows and the peaking highs like a goddamn junkie waiting for their next fix, then she didn't want any part of it. Not like this, anyway.
If he wanted to die, so be it. She turned on her heel without another word, walking stridently back to the front of the prison, pushing the people foolish enough to stand in her way as she started to go back home. And once she was there, she had found herself sitting on the roof of Hinowa's shop, staring at the window that opened in Yoshiwara and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.
-x-
Gintoki had forced himself to look at her when he delivered that line. He'd seen exactly everything he deserved. The shock, transformed into sadness, and then the final blow: hatred. It had been a look of complete, all-encompassing, and yet, justified hatred from someone he'd held dear. He'd seen it on Takasugi; had memorized his exact expression of pain, had seared the image of horror on his mind ever since that day he'd been forced to choose between one over another.
He'd already betrayed the three most important people in his life. What was it, really, for someone like him to add one more to the list?
He was tired, already full of regrets even before he'd ever met her. It seemed like the grim reaper would never leave him alone, taking away the people he cared about. And before he'd realized it, he put them in harms' way, simply because he had the cursed gift of taking lives away as efficiently as a bullet. As long as he lived, he would simply continue to spread bad luck and despair wherever he went. This was a better outcome for her than to lose her eye, or even worse, her head.
It wasn't as painful as what had transpired a week ago on those cliffs. But it still cut him inside, nonetheless.
Maybe she didn't love him anymore. But that would have been fine, as long as she stayed alive.
-x-
The sandbag in Jiraia's old dojo wasn't enough to let out her frustration as she punched it to oblivion with her bare fists. Still, she persisted, alternating punches in between kicks. The sweat rolled down her forehead, and she tasted the salt on her skin before she took a short break, wiping her face with her arm.
"Boss," one of her subordinates said, appearing in the doorway. "Hinowa-sama wants to know if you'll be taking a shift today."
"I am," Tsukuyo said, shifting into a defensive position with her fists raised, ready for her next melee.
"Okay. She also says it's fine if you want to take a shift off. You haven't taken one off since last month."
"Nah. I'll be ready when it's time."
When she heard her subordinate leaving the dojo, sliding the paper door shut, Tsukuyo took a deep breath, and punched the sandbag so hard that she could see small fissures in the fabric, bloodying her knuckles in the process.
She bandaged them as quickly as she could, and started the whole routine over again.
Right punch, left hook, side kick.
Right punch, left hook, side kick.
Right punch, left hook, side kick.
Rinse and repeat until there was an hour before her shift. With every kick and punch, she'd feel her anger slowly dissipating, only to reveal behind hurt and pain. She knew that if she stopped, she would have broken into a million pieces like the way her heart did only a few hours ago.
-x-
Tsukuyo went to a bath house afterwards. Dipped in and out from a heated pool, quickly scrubbed herself clean, and when she was dressed, had ordered a tray of onigiri to eat before her next patrol. She took a bite, only to find it tasting like ash.
(this was a mistake)
She chewed on the onigiri mechanically, biting into the pickled plum that she knew were now scarcely found in small villages outside of the city. It still tasted like sawdust.
(I didn't ask you to rescue me)
She swallowed. There was a lump in her throat. She could have choked on the grains of rice, if she wasn't careful.
(I just wanted you for one night)
The thought of letting someone that close inside her heart, only to throw it away like it didn't matter, like she was just another scorned prostitute, made her sick to her stomach.
She thought of the time where he told her, I missed you. Thought of the way he looked at her, once upon a time.
There's a whole new world out there, Tsukuyo. Come with me.
Had it all been a lie?
Had she just simply dreamed what had transpired between the two of them?
No I didn't, she thought. Pretty words, spun like cotton and silk, were as common to Yoshiwara as a courtesan pouring sake out of a bottle. But Gintoki had always preferred to speak plainly, to take action over empty promises. The window in the ceiling was proof of that alone.
What he'd said to her made no sense at all. His words didn't match up to what she knew of him.
Finally, she put the onigiri down on her tray, unable to pretend that she had an appetite any longer. Objectively, this didn't matter. None of what he'd said to her would matter in the long run.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind.
Sakata Gintoki was going to die at this rate. That much was clear.
First, they would kill him. He would turn into a headless corpse after they tortured him for all the information he could offer them. Then, after his execution - which she half suspected would be painful - his head would be put on a pike, and his body would float in the Edo river like the rest of the pour souls who had chosen to take up arms and follow him in the war. She nearly wanted to throw up at the thought.
Who was she to let him do that to himself, especially when he changed everything for her? He wasn't like anybody else; after all, this was Sakata Gintoki, the only man who'd granted her wish of setting every woman in this city free at the risk of his own life. All he ever wanted to do in the first place was to reunite a boy looking for his mother, and in the meantime he'd taken down a despot with nothing more than a sword and his own strength of will. Everything else came second to that. If she turned her back on him now, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself.
She vowed tomorrow that she would come back to him, it didn't matter if it was to hell or high heaven. She'd force him to escape next time she saw him; she wouldn't give him a chance to say no.
Maybe he had never loved her. But that would have been fine, as long as he stayed alive. It was about time she repaid him a favor, anyway.
-x-
As his body gradually adjusted to a jail block that was in all honesty, too small and dark for him, Gintoki had found that he was grateful to sit down for a while, content to dwell and replay all his regrets one after another in excruciating detail. While the jailers had debated what to do with such a criminal of ill-repute, he had taken comfort in the absolutes of his situation. Here was, at least, a place to stay, while knowing that the end was close for him. There would be no jury to judge him, and for that he was grateful. Death was a small price to pay for his sins.
The morning after he'd been put into prison, the warden had visited him for the first time.
"Shiroyasha. You have committed yourself to the war and have killed so many."
Tell me something I don't know, Gintoki thought.
"Do you think your sins ought to be forgiven? I wonder if a demon like you has ever had to lose someone that you loved."
Gintoki could think of a few.
"In the end, monsters like you ought to be punished," the warden said, satisfied with the exchange.
On most days, they had alternated waterboarding him and then, if they were feeling particularly malicious, they would let a steady stream of guards ogle at him like a zoo animal, allowing them to heap abuse in his ears. Shortly afterwards, they'd habitually beat him with a truncheon, only asking one question.
Where is Takasugi Shinsuke?
He'd continue to answer them all with the same questions. I don't know, he'd say. I don't know what he's up to, or what he plans to do next.
But of course, they wouldn't believe him. He didn't expect them to, either.
The only thing he was sure of was that he was going to executed soon, which gave him comfort even through all the agony he was forced to endure. Even if Shoyou-sensei hadn't wanted him to die in vain, he thought his teacher would have forgiven him for giving up, bearing a burden that was entirely too much to hold onto for one person.
He couldn't protect a damn thing, in the end.
If the war ended right now with his death, and the last of the rogue samurai would lose all hope of winning, then he'd be saving more than a few souls in the process. That was why he was ready - prepared, even - to die. At least he'd be able to see Shoyou-sensei again. That was the way it should have been in the first place, ever since his teacher handed him his sword so many years ago.
He entered the torture chamber once more, his hands still bound tightly with rope. They had allowed him to get on his knees right before they raised their arms, warning the Shiroyasha to confess his secrets.
But he had no more secrets to share. He'd given up everything important to him already. He closed his eyes, awaiting his final judgment.
Then there was a loud rapping of the door.
Someone paused.
"Who is it?"
Nobody answered. Annoyed, one of the prison wardens walked to the door.
Then somebody - Gintoki couldn't tell who it was - had opened gunfire. He leapt to his feet, trying to avoid it instinctively - finding two bodies next to him, lying face down in a pool of blood, riddled with bullet holes. There was the smell of gunpowder, a familiar looking umbrella, and then -
A strange man with a grey uniform, black boots, and a dark cape walked towards him. Taking off his goggles, he only smiled at Gintoki.
"This isn't your time to die, Shiroyasha," he said, his voice rumbling inside the cage. "I'm here to break you out."
-x-
- tbc -
-x-
a/n: Deadbeat dad comes to the rescue. Hooray! This chapter was a bit of a slog to write, so I'd appreciate it if you guys could tell me what you thought of it! Much love, and see you next week!