I don't own either Gakuen Alice or Gintama, yes?
The boy seems to glare at her from behind his mask.
"That's a stupid question, Sarutobi." Ayame's not sure if it's Zenzou or his hemorrhoids speaking. It's probably the latter. "Can't you see the mask? Are you wearing your glasses? Of course he's Black Cat."
She ignores the ninja and looks at the boy again. "But you're just a kid!"
If she didn't feel the killer aura exuding from the boy, Ayame would have been ashamed of herself. The ominous aura is so obvious it's almost opaque. It's something that can only come from a sadist and her masochistic senses are tingling—
"And the Oniwabanshu is an elderly couple who try to kill each other everyday," Zenzou's hemorrhoids retort. "I don't see your point."
"And I don't see why the kid can't speak for himself," Ayame glares at the ninja, attempting to make her glasses glint evilly like in anime, but failing terribly.
"He can't-"
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Black Cat finally speaks, and Ayame is surprised because his voice is deeper and more mature than she expected.
"I'm the one you call Black Cat, and I'd love to be anywhere but here right now."