I See Red
Chapter 16: Red Embers
The helicopter ride was gravely silent, the tension within it so high that Hijikata felt that he would die.
Coming into this mission, everybody knew that it was going to be dangerous, but… did he really almost die at the hands of a bunch of gangsters in some abandoned warehouse in the middle of the woods? Did he just really watch the kingpin of a large Triad almost kill that little China brat right in front of his eyes? Did he really just watch Sakata-sensei morph into the Shiroyasha, and still lose?… Did he really just die in that explosion?
And Mitsuba…
Hijikata felt his heart and stomach and lungs and guts crumple inside him. They were stupid. All of them were stupid to think that they were untouchable, that there was no way that they could die from this stupid rescue mission. Instead of just the Prime Minister's little sister being missing, now the Mimawarigumi PD's got more stupid Gintama High kids to worry about.
He wanted to scream, wanted to beat someone up into a bloody pulp, wanted to put a katana in between that damn old geezer's eyes, wanted to make him suffer for a hundred years for even thinking about hurting her. But he was bound at all limbs, a gag shoved pretty deep in his mouth, with muscle-bound thugs flanking him at both sides.
Sougo and Kagura received the same treatment as he did. Both of them looked shell-shocked and sapped of the usual fire inside their eyes. Earlier, Kagura had enough anger to scream bloody murder and was able to kick two bodyguards into Never-Never Land. The remaining guards then gave her a vial of powerful sedative "enough to knock a Yato out" to calm her down into the stupor she was in now.
Somehow, the thugs had also apprehended Takasugi moments before the three of them were taken. His supposed good eye was swollen shut by a good beating. Some blood oozed out of a cut from his cheek, but he was bound and gagged and no-one cared enough to stop the blood from flowing.
'Yato'-Hijikata vaguely remembered Takasugi used that term earlier, but didn't have the time to ask what it meant. Whatever it meant, it looked like Kagura was a bigger deal than they thought. Heck, that powerful old geezer had to prepare for a Yato in advance.
More and more their little plan to rescue Tokugawa Soyo seemed doomed from the start. But now that he thought about it, that old man seemed to pay no importance to the Princess, and more importance to the China brat. Are we missing something? What's this old man's game?
The old man's voice cut through Hijikata's thoughts. "Make sure we get there before sunrise," Housen said to a woman seated at the front, who merely nodded. A merciless silence within the darkness of the hold followed. Somebody, say something. There was nothing to stop Hijikata-or any one of the captured there-from spiralling into despair.
It seemed like an eternity before the woman spoke up again: "We will be landing in five minutes. Where shall we take the prisoners?"
Housen hummed as if bored. Drumming his fingers across the armrest, he glared at the prisoners through the rear-view mirror. "Where, indeed. That little rabbit is more useless than I thought, so it really doesn't matter to me. I was thinking of sending their bodies to Russia or thereabouts."
The woman turned her head, and Hijikata saw her profile: dark hair that shone like lacquer, dark-green eyes, clear skin, a small, pretty face. She was probably a breathtaking beauty at all angles, and even the severe dark suit that she wore did not hinder it in any way. "It's not wise to do that right now. Kagura-sama and her allies are much too important for us to dispose at this time. We're under close scrutiny as it is."
"By the usual?"
"Yes. And the other pirate groups and Interpol as well."
"Do you hear that, Kagura-chan?… You are much too important. How daft." His cold glare shifted over to where Kagura lay motionless and stagnant. The old man clicked his tongue. "How bothersome. I'll leave their fates to you, Hinowa. Don't disappoint me."
"Understood."
The helicopter began its silent descent, and the thugs methodically tied very tight blindfolds over Hijikata's and everyone else's eyes. Almost immediately after landing, he felt a group of strong arms lift him, throw him on the hard concrete of an anonymous roof, and drag him down a set of stairs. He was handled so roughly that he prayed that he didn't break any bones from the number of times he was left to fall on his own, before being dragged forward again.
After what felt like years, Hijikata felt the floor change into something damp and made of cold stone. He caught a whiff of the air, which was stagnant and moldy. He heard the clink of cold metal opening - likely a lattice - and he was roughly shoved inside, his bruised and battered body landing with a cold thud.
He heard more distant metallic sounds, and the sound of what has to be bodies landing on the cold floor.
It was silent, save for the soft wheeze of someone a little far from him. He strained to hear the voice behind the wheeze, but before he could, a cold familiar voice broke the silence.
"Remove everything except the zipties around their wrists and ankles."
A woman's voice. Hijikata guessed that it was the woman from the helicopter.
"But Madame Hinowa, we don't have any cameras here. Without the ropes, how are we gonna make sure that they-"
"Did I stutter?" Even when he couldn't see her face, he could only imagine the frightening darkness her eyes must have had when she said it. Within seconds, he felt the thugs remove his blindfold, the sock in his mouth, and the ropes around the rest of his body.
It was so dark in the dungeon-a single incandescent lightbulb struggled to light up the area with its weak, sickening orange glow. He was sure now that they were in a dungeon, and it was difficult to make out details just when he got used to the dark. There were about ten of the Harusame thugs dressed in dark suits, leering at him from within his cage which they now slammed shut.
The woman was staring right at him as he looked at her, and it was only then that he realized that she was in a wheelchair. Even then there was no sign of weakness in her steely gaze. It was obvious that she was the most powerful person there was in that dungeon.
"Hijikata-kun," she began, without a trace of emotion in her voice. "You are easily the oldest and most responsible of the group, aren't you?"
Even if Hijikata had an answer to that strange sentence, he couldn't speak. His mouth was so dry, his entire body was in pain, he was beyond just craving for nicotine or mayonnaise. He coughed uselessly in response.
Stony-faced as ever, the woman continued without missing a beat. "Even if you weren't, there isn't anybody left in this dungeon for me to speak with, so I have no choice but to brief you. All your friends were unfortunately beaten unconscious in transit. Given the things that happened to all of you today, I can only imagine the suffering that you're going through right now. I deemed the gags and blindfolds unnecessary."
It seemed unfortunately true. Without the gags and blindfolds, he saw that across from him, Sougo and Kagura were unconscious. He saw a thug step away from the younger man, who had a worrying new trail of blood oozing from his forehead. The little China girl had bruises over her pale arms-the lack of movement from her body, save for a slow rise and fall of her chest, could only be telling of another dose of that Yato-subduing drug that Housen boasted of earlier.
As he stared at his friends from beyond his own cage, there it was. Hijikata strained his hearing. That familiar wheeze, very soft and very faint, coming from the cell next to him.
"And all this, because you got in the way of Housen's schemes. It's… unfortunate. Now, I would like you to assess the situation very well, Hijikata-kun." The woman commanded all of his attention to him. "I cannot tell you exactly where we are, but it is enough for you to know that this area is within protected land, with forest surrounding us all around. Housen made it quite… impossible for your group to escape this place. If you are caught trying to do something unnecessary, he could easily send all of you to Russia in any shape or form he wishes."
'Any shape or form' had more weight to it than 'dead or alive'. He gave in to the urge to swallow anxiously.
The woman blinked at him. It was very hard to see, but there was a slight difference in her gaze. Something soft, encouraging. It was there and gone the next moment.
But before he could figure out what it meant, the woman called Hinowa closed her eyes and turned away, her wheelchair whirring mechanically. "In the end, my message to you is, don't… don't do anything that will make me or my men to come down here to teach you a lesson. Excuse me, Hijikata-kun."
Moments later, the woman and her army of thugs exited the dungeon, with the whoosh of an automatic door and lock sounding behind them.
Immediately, Hijikata trained his eyes to get used in the darkness. As promised, his arms were bound behind him, his ankles linked together by two or three zipties. The thug earlier muttered something about 'no cameras'-it might be true, but they could be trying to catch him off guard. The cell about five feet across from him where Sougo and Kagura lay unconscious looked about the same size as his, and had the same lattice door securing them in place.
What was that look that the woman gave him? Was she challenging him to escape this place? Hijikata cursed under his breath.
"Hijikata-kun."
He realized then that there wasn't a wall, but iron bars separating him from the cell next to him. The light of the single light bulb barely illuminated that particular area, but he immediately saw the shadow of the person calling out to him.
"Is that you, you bastard?"
Takasugi murmured-or wheezed-in the affirmative.
"I thought they knocked you unconscious too."
"I know how to play dead," Takasugi slurred to him. The one-eyed delinquent turned his head to the side, and Hijikata saw the shine of blood, sweat, and spit flowing from one corner of his mouth. "Listen. They beat me up badly, and I can't see anything, but I know there's someone else here with me. I think it might be someone you know."
Hijikata shimmied from his place at the center of his cell to the bars, struggling to sit up. The familiar wheeze reached his ears, and he recognized too late the struggle to form words with each laboured breath.
"Hhh… Tou… Tou… Shi…"
Even in the dark, it was unmistakable. She lay on the other side of the cell, too weak to move or to sit upright, weaker than he'd ever remembered her. Blood from her mouth stained the sides of her mouth and the front of her shirt. Unlike them, she had no bindings about her, but she was obviously incapable of escaping anyway. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and each gasp was tighter than the last.
"Mitsuba!" he cried, his voice strangled and broken. Out of impulse he tried to stand up to reach her, but he fell with a useless thud on the ground.
"Mitsuba…" mumbled Takasugi. "So they weren't bluffing about her, after all."
Hearing her name spoken by Takasugi, of all people, snapped him into a fit of rage. "You-you shut the fuck up! Why would they put her there with you?!"
He wanted to say a million other things-a million apologies to her, promises that she would be okay, just wait a minute, Toshirou is right there, right next to her but he really wasn't, and he didn't know what to do, and he couldn't do anything-
Back then, wasn't this just the same fucking thing?! Takasugi and Mitsuba in the same place, him sneering, her choking to death, Hijikata fucking helpless and useless and sorry-
"Hijikata-kun, calm down," came the weak slur of Takasugi. If Hijikata could reach him, he would have strangled the blind man to death… that is, until he realized that the other was gesturing vaguely to him.
Takasugi breathed deeply. "In my pants pocket… I have an inhaler."
Hijikata's eyes widened. "Y… you're kidding."
It's impossible, right? Surely these thugs would be so thorough not to leave anything in their damned pockets that could help them. This fucker must be messing with him-shit, they shouldn't have been quick to trust this turd, he had fucking links to the Harusame, for crying out loud, and look where they are now…
The delinquent breathed loudly again, a soft wheeze escaping his lips. "Hijikata-kun, you have no choice but to trust me. Okita-san needs you."
He glared at him. Shifting so that he could see him more clearly, he saw an irregular shape bulging from Takasugi's thigh. With his hands bound behind his back, it was obvious that the blinded man could not reach it in his present state.
"Why do you have an inhaler?"
"I have asthma too." Despite Hijikata's look of disbelief, the other renowned teenage chainsmoker didn't falter. "It's not much, but anything's better than leaving her alone. The air here will only make her attack worse."
"F-fuck-"
"We don't have time to argue, Hijikata-kun," he cut off. It was then that he noted that Takasugi was controlling his breaths-he might be having his own attack as well. "Listen-did they break your arms too? Can you break your ties?"
Good question. Looking at Takasugi's figure, he saw the unnatural sloping of one shoulder-the right one was most likely dislocated. As for Hijikata, all of his body was screaming in pain. But when he moved his bound wrists against his arms, none of them felt broken.
It was only then that he remembered. When they were captured, he had the presence of mind to clench his fists side-by-side when he was being tied down earlier. It was useless to try to escape earlier since they were bound with rope, but now that the ropes were out…
Grunting, he pulled his wrists together. The zip tie cut through his flesh painfully. He grit his teeth, biting down hard until he swore the inside of his cheeks were bleeding. But inch by agonizing inch, he was able to slip one thumb, then the other out of the zip tie.
His hands free, he immediately shifted over to where Takasugi leaned. He cursed under his breath as he fumbled with the other guy's zip tie with shaky, tingling fingers. By some miracle, moments later, he was able to break it with his fingers.
Takasugi sighed with some relief after being freed from the ties. Grunting with pain, he reached into his pocket for the inhaler. Hijikata had half-expected him to use the inhaler on himself first, but surprisingly, he didn't. His legs still bound, he launched himself forward, shimmying like a snake towards where Mitsuba lay wheezing.
"Mitsuba! Hold on!" cried Hijikata, as he watched the other fumble in the dark. He barely heard Takasugi mumbling very soft instructions to her as he struggled to remain upright to hold the puffer to her mouth.
Later on, a much louder cough escaped her mouth. As her airways opened, she gulped for air hungrily. The rise and fall of her chest assured him that she was able to breathe in more freely than earlier.
"Toshirou… I'm here," she said, her weakened voice just above a whisper. The worrisome wheezing noise from her breath disappeared.
She's alive. Mitsuba is alive. Exhaling loudly in relief, Hijikata felt himself collapse briefly to the floor. He was now aware of the sobs escaping from his throat. Fuck, wasn't it embarrassing to just break down in tears like this in front of his mortal enemy?
He struggled to remain upright. Takasugi was exhausted too, likely from being beaten up more thoroughly than the rest of them, and had collapsed on the floor next to Mitsuba.
Taking deep breaths, the sandy-haired woman took two frail arms and supported herself to look at Hijikata in the eye.
"I can't believe you're here too… Oh my god, Toshirou, I'm so sorry that I let them capture me…" Her tears fell down her face and onto her hands. "They… they just stormed in the office and took me… our boss Kuraba-san just gave me to them, as if he knew what was going to happen… it was so fast and I was too weak to do anything…"
No, Mitsuba, it's our fault… if we weren't so careless and stupid… Hijikata thought, but he was unable to make a sound.
"... they told me that I should work hard, starting tomorrow, so I could 'help my friends', they said… well, that was before… they found out I was sick…"
Hijikata remembered Housen's words. They might have decided that she was damaged goods, not worth selling to the old men like that old lecher who had her kidnapped. Rage began to well up within him.
She crawled to where Hijikata gripped the bars of the cell. Her cold hands touched his, affirming her existence, her survival. The rage screeched to a halt within him, only leaving him with shame and despair, flooding his senses over and over.
"It's… it's our fault-"
"It's not your fault," she cut in sharply. Her tears fell as she looked at the other side of the dungeon, where Sougo breathed quietly next to an equally unconscious Kagura, his eyes shut. She bit her lip, struggling not to cry out. Even then, she repeated under her breath, "it's not our fault…"
"Mitsuba…"
She shook her head. Her voice was weak, but she lowered her voice even more, so that she was practically mumbling to him through the bars. "Listen, Toshirou. I don't know the whole story, but from what I heard, they had planned it from the start. It didn't matter what we did or didn't do. Something's going to happen soon. I don't know when or how, but the two of us need to protect Sou-chan and Kagura-chan, whatever happens, okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"... I heard them talking among themselves. They… they gave her something… something to 'bring her back to the way she used to be,'" She was frightened-her trembling hands over his revealed as much- but her red eyes practically glowed in the dark with fierce determination. He waited for her patiently as she controlled her breaths in measured, even paces.
He ground his teeth once more in frustration. "Back to being a 'Yato', you mean?"
Mitsuba nodded grimly. "I don't know what it is, but they were talking about her as if she were a monster." She sighed, shaking her head once more. "Whatever a Yato is, Kagura-chan couldn't be-"
"She could."
They both glanced at Takasugi, who was breathing more evenly than he was earlier. Somehow the bastard managed to get himself upright. Hijikata clicked his tongue in irritation at his interruption. "What the hell do you know, you bastard?"
In spite of the gruesome situation, the delinquent on the floor had the nerve to chuckle. "You haven't seen a Yato clansman fight for real yet, have you, Hijikata-kun? It's not a pretty sight."
"A clan?" Mitsuba tilted her head in curiosity. "So is it Kagura-chan's original family?"
"You got it, Okita-san." It was annoying how he could grin about it, as if it were exciting to him. "I had the pleasure of seeing her older brother wreak havoc before. He and the little Red Girl are the offspring of the strongest Yato of them all. Do you remember the way she fought during our little raid, Hijikata-kun?"
Hijikata swallowed hard. Of course he remembered. It made him sick to remember it.
The moment they entered the warehouse, Kagura was flying up in the air, her little parasol blooming and shielding her from a rain of bullets. While the rest of 3-Z freaked out from all the guns, she faced about fifty goons head-on, as if this was something she dealt with on a normal working day.
It was… merciless, how she fought. She struck hard blows to their heads with murderous intent glowing in her blue eyes. She took their knives and stabbed the thugs without a hint of hesitation. She forged on ahead with the sprays of blood and gore not fazing her. Her little parasol shot goddamn bullets out of one end. When they interrogated that guy back then, she looked ready to kill the guy on the spot. Hijikata tried to pull her off the guy before she could commit actual murder, and in response she kicked him in the damn gut.
"So you remember. That isn't even half of what she could do," Takasugi said, in a morbidly fascinated way. "When she told you guys that the Harusame used her as a killing machine, she meant that literally."
Mitsuba was staring now at Hijikata, taking in the fear and uneasiness painting his face. "No… no way…" she whispered. As if her pale face couldn't be any paler. "Kagura-chan… Kagura-chan wouldn't…"
Her hand gripped Hijikata's a little tighter. Something sounded from the cell across from theirs, and they both sat up in attention.
In the darkness, Kagura began to stir.
Shinpachi couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the smoke rise from what was formerly the site of the Harusame's Eight Division hideout.
"Was that-" he heard somebody stammer beside him. His eardrums were probably destroyed in the explosion, even though he barely remembered it happening. It was merely a surge of heat and energy, and then a blast of light, and then the warehouse just… disappeared…
"Kagura-chan?…" Wait… Kagura-chan was there… she was shooting people and-
"Gin-san… did you guys see Gin-san…? Did he… I could have sworn-" The one who spoke was probably Sacchan-san. Her dark brown eyes behind her red-framed glasses were wide and glassy as they stared in the direction of smoke.
"No… it couldn't be him…"
Of course it couldn't be Ginpachi-sensei. Kagura-chan told them that he had a meeting in the school the entire day. He wouldn't have known that they went into this vigilante mission to save Soyo-chan. He wouldn't have known where to find them. He wouldn't have had the time to chase them down in the middle of the woods to fight those Harusame thugs. He wouldn't-
He wouldn't have been there in the… explosion…
With Kagura-chan… with Nobume-san… with-
"Sougo-Toshi-"
Somebody fell beside him. "Kondo-san…"
With a muted thud, the naked Kondo-san fell to his knees. Dumbly he stared at the smoke and fires rising from the ruins of the warehouse. Beside him, Yamazaki-san and Saitou-san had the same glassy, shell-shocked stares, even as they covered their commander's body with their track suit jackets.
What was happening?! Why was this happening? It was supposed to be a smooth operation-nobody was hurt at all-Hijikata-san already said it was safe for them to run away and that they would follow, but…
"Shinsuke-sama is still there!" Without an ounce of hesitation, a hot pink blur with blonde pigtails rushed in front of them to the direction of the destroyed warehouse.
"Arf!" agreed Sadaharu, bolting ahead of everybody else. His little doggy eyebrows were scrunched together in worry as he ran like a bull to the disaster area. It was all it took before Shinpachi snapped out of his trance and ran after the two of them.
It's always a bad idea to run where there's fire, but Shinpachi couldn't stop his feet from moving. It didn't matter that all his muscles were aching, and his lungs felt like exploding, and his glasses felt like melting over his face. Kagura-chan and Nobume-san and Okita-san and Hijikata-san and even Takasugi-san's faces flashed before his eyes.
Someone has to help.. Gin-san would have ran there to help everyone. Gin-san would have saved everyone.
And wasn't it just the night before that Gin-san asked him to look after Kagura-chan? Because among all the guys at school, he was the only one that he could entrust her to? He swallowed down all his guilt. It was enough to keep Shinpachi moving.
The heat became more unbearable as he moved closer and closer to the warehouse. Bright red embers and ash rose into the late afternoon sky. He heard the crashing noises of rock and steel and bundles of ash as the foundations became more unstable. Panic rose from within his heart as the prospect of his classmates being crushed to oblivion became realer and realer.
"Kagura-chan! Nobume-san! Okita-san! Hiji-" he screamed as he was ready to jump across two fallen beams, but was cut off when something yanked him on the collar roughly.
"Oi, kid, the hell are ya doin' out here?" somebody drawled behind him.
Shit… was this a Harusame thug? Did they come back for revenge? The arm holding onto his collar was strong and sturdy and easily lifted him about a foot off the ground. He squirmed under the iron-clad grip, kicking and swinging his arms uselessly as he did. "Let me go-my friends are-" Belatedly, he noticed how damp and choked his voice was, and how tears and snot were already dribbling down his face.
"You idiot. You'll die if you go there. What the hell has your homeroom teacher been teachin' ya, huh? Has he been reading JUMP to you guys all this time? Is that why you're doing stupid shonen shit like running into a burning building? The hell."
Now only recognizing the eerily familiar voice speaking to him, Shinpachi felt himself stunned into silence. He allowed himself to be tossed away from the explosion site. The feel of the hard ground and the crunch of his glasses snapped him back to his senses and forced him to look at his assailant.
It took a while for Shinpachi's brain to register the presence of their usually taciturn Japanese literature teacher near the explosion site. Yet, his glasses weren't damaged enough that he couldn't see the shaggy brown hair, the ugly goatee, the crumpled white lab coat, and the air of laziness that can only be rivaled by their own homeroom teacher.
"... Hattori… sensei…?"
Sacchan-san, breathless from running, was the one who said this. Otae was jogging behind her, but ran forward when she saw Shinpachi sprawled out on the floor.
"Shin-chan! What were you going to do?!" A new lump formed in his throat as his beloved aneue slapped him in the face before embracing him close to her. He felt her thin frame shake as she cried, "Don't just-don't just run off and leave me like that!"
He couldn't say anything to that. Couldn't even mumble an apology. The gravity of their helplessness dawned on him anew as he listened to his sister control her sobs. In front of them, Hattori-sensei had his arms crossed, a glare apparent under his messy hair as he looked at Sacchan-san.
"I don't even know what to say to you brats. Especially you, Sarutobi," he said sharply, to which Sacchan only looked at the floor fiercely. "I didn't give you personal lessons in Rhythmic Gymnastics so you could pull stupid dangerous stunts like this."
"But sensei-"
"You were supposed to be more responsible than that," interrupted Hattori, making his lavender-haired student bite her lower lip. He grumbled in frustration before continuing, "I should really expel you guys on the spot, right now. But I need to send you home to your families first-"
"But sensei, we have to save Kagura-chan and-"
"But what about Gin-sensei-"
"Stop talking!" In the blink of an eye, the grumpy teacher threw something sharp and shiny that landed in between Shinpachi's legs, making him shut up immediately. It seemed that he had attempted something similar to Sacchan-san, but she was quick enough to retaliate so that her foot somehow made its way up his rectum.
Shinpachi shrieked as a spray of ass blood littered his field of vision. Hattori-sensei fell to his knees, ass to the sky, his face contorted in a familiarly painful expression as if this was an unfortunate common daily occurrence.
Without an ounce of remorse in her eyes, Sacchan-san yelled back, "How could you talk about sending us home as if nothing happened! We… we came here with everybody, and now that Kagura-chan and those sadists and that mayo freak and that one-eyed yankee are missing, you're just asking us to abandon them?!" She wiped her eyes furiously against the back of one hand, ignoring the groans of pain of her mentor. "And… I saw him, I saw Gin-san enter the warehouse, right before it exploded!"
"Sacchan," Otae called out softly from next to Shinpachi.
"You can't just… can't just ask me to go home…" she finished weakly, falling to her knees. "N-not without Gin-san…"
Hattori-sensei, in spite of all his obvious rectal pain, appeared to be listening to his student's cries. He sighed a long-suffering sigh before willing himself to stand up, blood and all. "Sarutobi-san, stand up," he said, offering one hand to her. "You too, Shimura-san and Shimura Glasses."
"Oi, who's Shimura Glasses," mumbled Shinpachi, but he complied anyway. The teacher scratched the back of his head and mumbled something incoherent under his breath. After a brief moment of making up his mind, he gestured for the three of them to follow him back to the woods.
"You damn kids are making me form brand new hemorrhoids up my ass. And I ain't even your damn homeroom teacher," he grumbled as he led them to a clearing. "Makes me wonder how that damn perm hasn't spontaneously combusted from taking care of you guys and bequeathed all his JUMP comics to me. Anyway, Sarutobi-san, if that guy could survive facing a class of hooligans like you five days a week, you think a small thing like an explosion might kill him?"
As they went closer and closer to the clearing, Shinpachi was able to make out a lot of figures moving about from a distance. Somehow, the remaining members of the Shinsengumi were there, still consoling Kondo-san, who was wearing a new pair of (stained…?) tighty-whities. Kyuubei-san, Katsura-san, and Elizabeth seemed to be speaking to Takechi-san and Kawakami-san.
Somebody was consoling Kijima-san, who was weeping loudly and crying out Takasugi-san's name dramatically. As they got closer, Shinpachi heard her cries clearer, "H-he was just th-there, Tsukki-sensei, I asked Shinsuke-sama to go away with us, but he wouldn't listen-"
It figures that someone like Kijima-san would call her own homeroom teacher a nickname, but that wasn't the main issue here. What's Tsukuyo-sensei doing here? thought Shinpachi, casting a questioning glance at Hattori-sensei. As if reading his mind, the sullen teacher quipped, "You're gonna have more questions anyway, so save 'em for later, Glasses."
They finally made it to the clearing, and it was there where Shinpachi saw two things that made him simultaneously feel his jaw drop and glasses crack and knees collapse to the ground.
First, Nobume-san was safe. She had cuts and bruises over all the exposed parts of her skin, and her nose was bleeding, and her eyes looked like she'd been through hell, but she was safe. A white-haired man in a pure-white uniform was next to her, a broken flip-phone on one hand and the other holding her close. Shinpachi barely remembered Nobume-san being cared for by the chief of police, and he surmised that that must be him, but he barely paid him any attention.
Second was the sight of Sadaharu restlessly tromping around, his tail wagging in joy as he alternately pawed and licked the face of an obviously shaken, but already disgruntled old-smelling man with familiar dead fish eyes. His perm was partially singed, but mostly intact. His clothes were also partially burnt, his pure-white coat now polluted with ashes.
"Gin… san…"
He didn't know how he got there, or how his sister and Sacchan-san ended up tumbling next to him, but the next moment they were all holding on to their teacher with tears and snot running down their faces.
"You're alive, Gin-san, you're alive!"
"Oi, you brats are getting your boogers on my coat," Ginpachi-sensei chided gently. Despite that, Shinpachi felt their teacher holding the three of them closer as they shook collectively in relief. He turned slightly to Sacchan, who clung to his shirt until a tearing noise was heard. "Stop that, you miserable M, enough with the tears."
"Uuuh! I thought you d-died, Sensei! Nobody's gonna t-torture me anymore if you d-die!"
"Oi, who's torturing who? You know what, get out of the cuddle pile," grumbled Ginpachi-sensei. He pushed her face away as per usual, making her crash loudly on a convenient pile of rocks close by. "Seriously though, if you tear my clothes, all this guy over here is gonna give me is his suspicious smelling tighty-whities. Can you please spare me the misery…"
"This guy?" asked Shinpachi and Otae simultaneously, because it was a strange sentence and a strange day altogether.
The silver permed teacher sighed in an odd mixture of shyness and cringe and meekness and jerked his thumb backwards.
And that was probably a third thing that made Shinpachi's jaw drop and glasses break, etcetera, etcetera, because the man who gazed back at them was the last person on God's green earth that should be in that forest next to the burning warehouse of a well-known criminal organization.
He stood next to Hattori-sensei calmly, despite the chaos of the background. His trademark chonmage, polished and bright, seemed to be enclosed with a halo of the sun. His sharp, dark eyes, springing forth from a dignified countenance, seemed to look at the group with kindness and empathy.
That profile that Shinpachi saw every morning in the newspaper could only be-
"The… Sho… SHOGUNNNNNN?!"
Shinpachi's trademark shriek echoed through the woods, making a mass of birds flutter out of their nests as the camera panned to the sky.
AN: Damn this chapter is longer than I'd like it to be. Writing as Hijikata is more challenging as I thought, especially in his high school self where he's so weak and smol and doesn't have a sword T_T It's also pretty hard to write so many scenes with so many characters but that's how Gintama is, isn't it T_T
As always, thank you for being so patient with me. The most difficult parts now are arranging the scenes and writing out just what the hell Housen has planned for our poor kids T_T
Please let me know your thoughts about this so far. If you have any complaints or critiques to help me improve my writing. Or if you think that the characterizations are off. Thank you as always for commenting and/or quietly reading the story!
