30 chapter milestone!
FUN FACTS:
Ch. 29: The royal "Xanxian" seal is based off of Xanxus' name (Katekyo Hitman Reborn)
Ch. 29: East Tomokaz - the name is a lil play on words on Gintoki's seiyuu's name (voice actor), Sugita Tomokazu. Lol.
Ch. 29: Mei's warning, "Burn this letter" is a result of me studying history. The U.S. Presidential Election of 1884, Grover Cleveland vs. James Blaine, in which Cleveland was accused of having an amorous affair. To the rhythm of "left, left, left, right, left!" the Democrats sang "Burn, burn, burn this letter!" because there was a letter incriminating Cleveland. Republicans jauntily replied, "Ma, Ma, where's my Pa?!". The Democrats retorted, lastly, with "Gone to the White House, ha, ha, ha!" ...I thought that was fun.
DISCLAIMER: neo armstrong cyclone jet armstrong cannon is Sorachi's.
NOTE: I know I covered a big time skip, and the fact that the anime even has a huge "two year break" among other great events shows that this timeline is extremely scrunched. HOWEVER, this is GINTAMA after all, sooooo...DONDAKEEE!
Eyes of Wolves
- 30 -
.: End of JULY, PRESENT :.
Umibouzu whirled around so quickly that he nearly took out Zenshi's nose with his head.
"This is it, Blue!" He stuffed a thick letter up his sleeve. "Now let's move, we're in shady territory."
Traipsing through the heart of the Peacock Princess's expansive reach, the two ducked out of the casino's backdoor trade center and made haste for the bustle of the city, where the traffic and population would provide cover.
"The guard has been up, lately," Zenshi muttered. He found himself rather muddled by his recent propensity for stating the obvious. It was as if he had grown too fond of speaking, and now, without anything truly meaningful to contribute, he simply described his methodic observations.
"The Bakufu is on the lookout for terrorists," Umibouzu replied. "See that?"
A gesture to the Shinsengumi patrolling at all odd hours of the night was enough incentive to keep on the down low, terrorist or not. Even so, Umibouzu was inexplicably excited. Zenshi, on a misanthropic tangent, was vaguely inclined to believe the man was excited because he would soon be done with this horrible job.
.: MAY, ONE MONTH AGO :.
"Are ya any good with hist'ry?" Tsukuyo inquired, when Zenshi emerged from the guest room (which he kept painstakingly clean and untouched, as he always did). He cast her a nebulous glance, not quite awake but not quite off in dreamland either. The way she had so conveniently slipped in front of his doorway as he walked out created the suggestion that she had been waiting for him.
"Hist'ry," he echoed owlishly, rolling her accent off his own tongue just to tease.
"History," she reiterated.
"What about it?"
"Seita needs help with homework, and I'm no good."
"I'm sure you are excellent."
She threw him an exasperated sidelong glance before leading the way down the hall. Again, he was disposed to believe she had recruited him from his room, waiting for the precise moment he stepped outside to snatch him in this conversation.
"Seita doesn't want me as a teacher," she explained. Zenshi, with his noble silence, was wise enough not to comment. "Just a little hist'ry. And math." Tsukuyo glanced over at Zenshi, discovered his smug amusement to be the greatest nuisance in the world, and rather snappily added "history" as clearly as possible.
"My Earth history is dusty, but I'll see what I can do." He felt the start of a grin, but withheld his delight to save himself the inevitable attack. Tsukuyo simply glared, however, and they progressed in silence until they reached a harried Seita curled over a textbook.
"Please, can we just do math? I don't want to study history," he was pouting, begging his mother. Hinowa, looking prim and regal in her wheelchair, slightly relented. She allowed him a short break from history to change gears. To their dismay, he began to whine about his arithmetic instead.
"Whaddaya mean it doesn't make sense? Of course it does! Fifteen times fourteen is…" Tsukuyo trailed off with an expression that illustrated her mental math skills.
"Tsukuyo-nee, you can't do it either."
"Of course I can! I'm good on paper."
Seita shot her an accusing glare.
"Two hundred ten."
Seita turned and beamed at Zenshi.
"See, now we're talking!"
.: End of JULY, PRESENT :.
"I am not suspicious at all."
To the Mimawarigumi, who overlapped the Shinsengumi's patrol somewhere in the middle of Kada's territory, these were hardly the words they wanted to hear. In fact, the baldy had such a terrible, inscrutable expression on his face that it made him all the more suspicious.
They cuffed him.
"Hold on," called Zenshi, hoping to mitigate the situation. Almost comically, he was about to add something along the lines of "He's really not a suspicious person" before he realized how much Earthlings were rubbing off on him, but resorted to the gravitational silence he'd known so well before.
"He's not under arrest," a white-uniformed officer explained. "We're just investigating anybody who snoops about at odd hours of the night."
"He's my uncle," Zenshi offered patiently. "His daughter is sick, and he has bad eyesight, so we were just heading home from the pharmacy."
A mental thumbs up from Umibouzu. Zenshi gestured innocently to the pharmacy a few blocks back, and the men exchanged glances. There were quite a few of them in the area, despite the fact that no one was around.
A few snapped to attention; someone had arrived.
"What's this?" said a pompous, somewhat nasally voice. "Bring all suspicious figures in for questioning. No excuses. We're on tight patrol here."
He turned sharply to Zenshi. The Yato found himself staring at a heavy-lidded, tight-lipped man with pale hair swept back from a defined face. The most intriguing feature was his nose, a hooked obstruction in the middle of excessively gaunt cheeks.
"The nephew can come with, if he'd like." The frankly unconvinced boredom in his eyes, however, conveyed nothing but sardonic pity.
.: MAY, ONE MONTH AGO :.
"Look here." Zenshi pointed out a problem. "It's the same as this one."
Seita lit up with a smile, his mathematic epiphany triumphing his earlier disgruntlement.
"I get it!" he exclaimed brightly. He beamed.
.: AUGUST, PRESENT :.
"So, Earth fighter, how are your travels?"
"Decent. And yours?"
"Great. Where are we headed?"
The trail of smoke off the kiseru glided serpentines towards above the map, where red ink crossed the names of dead Bakufu officials, and a large circle entrapped the capital palace.
.: THIRTEEN YEARS AGO :.
"This is my son, Zenshi." The well-dressed diplomat claps a hand on his child's shoulder, a boy of fourteen years and quiet, unobtrusive greetings.
"A pleasure." The foreign prince extends a hand to both father and son. Behind him is a delegate of so many intergalactic royals that Zenshi's memory is boggled with the names he'd tried to memorize in one shot earlier. Matching faces to titles is more difficult than remembers — is that green Amanto a duke or simply another envoy? — and the shier he becomes, the farther he shrinks away.
"Push your hair back," Linter tells his son strictly. "Look straight. No, not like that."
Zenshi stiffens, then attempts to undo his unnatural posture. Almost as if he is a princess trained in etiquette, the young Yato performs the very polite and proper greetings almost robotically. His rigid hello to the Hata Prince — who is a young, round Amanto boy with almond eyes, light purple skin, and a bizarre antenna sprouting from his head — displeases his father, who sourly guides him to the refreshment table for a lecture.
"Perhaps you ought to smile," suggests the man, somewhat tired but somewhat sympathetic.
Zenshi swallows too much fruit punch at once and chokes on it before hacking it out of his lungs.
"I guess not, then." Linter sighs, looking irate.
His son, at that moment, is thoroughly convinced that he should've just continued choking until he passed out, subsequently liberated from his daunting duties.
.: AUGUST, PRESENT :.
"I told them I was no one suspicious!"
Umibouzu rubbed his wrists, where slight marks from his handcuffs had left an imprint.
"Yet they keep me for three days!"
"Their processing is slow," deadpanned Zenshi, with little interest and little tolerance left in his system. He eyed the older Yato — a man who, if he desired, could snap those flimsy metal handcuffs between his fingers with ease — and sighed, warily reminded of his father and those glares of disapproval he'd apparently inherited.
"They didn't search me, so I'd say we're all good." The man was too optimistic for his own good. Was the great Umibouzu always this far on the bright side?
"And the letter?"
A flash of white from his pocket, and Zenshi was reassured.
Even though he didn't know who it was from, at least their month-long efforts had landed them in some form of progress.
.: -YOSHIWARA- AUGUST, PRESENT :.
Good men always keep their promises.
.: MAY, ONE MONTH AGO :.
When Seita returned early from school, he immediately demanded that they go out to buy space-jellyfish's tongue. Incredulously, Zenshi and Tsukuyo shared amused glances and waited for explanation.
"I sort of bragged to my friends about how I make awesome space food, so I'm bringing it for class show and tell," came the long-winded, bashful response.
"Show 'n tell?" parroted Tsukuyo, her eyes wide.
"Well, I guess it's like a class snack." Seita turned his eyes pleadingly to Zenshi, who mustered as still of an expression as possible. Seemingly coolly unconcerned, he began to stir Seita into a massive fret. "Please, just this once! I also want to see the space market, too!"
His solicitous begging and the puppy-like wiggle sold the deal.
"Fine," Tsukuyo agreed hastily, before Zenshi could even bother to give consent. "We'll go after dinner."
"No," interrupted Hinowa firmly, "after you do your homework, young man."
She glared at the ecstatic child, who paused mid-dance to flash a reticent expression of horror.
"C'mon, get your math out," prompted his mother.
"But I don't wanna," Seita moped, unceremoniously plopping himself down opposite Zenshi at the table.
"If you read yer hist'ry with an accent, it might be fun," suggested the Yato, venturing a cautionary glance in Tsukuyo's direction. The blonde restrained her fuming and laid out a petulant glare that he exaggeratedly avoided.
"Another word that's not hist'ry, and you two'll get it." She brandished a kunai with astonishing speed.
Seita flipped his textbook open before Tsukuyo could even say another word.
.: AUGUST, PRESENT :.
To whom it may concern,
I have reason to believe that a friend of mine is in danger. There is a specific person I wish to seek, and I am aware that he currently resides on Earth. I would prefer if he keeps quiet about the origin of this letter. The process will most likely take a few months, seeing as my own situation is one of urgency and incognito travel.
You idiot lieutenant, do not forget this:
Umibouzu grabbed a UV-light and illuminated the paper in faint, violet glow. Even without the rest of the letter, Zenshi was rather sure of the sender's identity.
Harusame's on the move. If you need cover, I suggest you use the Earth commotion now. Technically, we're not on the move — we're just traveling our usual rounds at this time of the year. It's our new allies that are making the moves, and our stupid Danchou has decided to tag along.
Watch out for the police because your name is probably on record for the Harusame.
Toodle-loo.
Signed:
The New Lieutenant (who is so much better than the old one), Mei — 7th Div.
See what I mean by timeline? Okay, so I know this is kind of getting rushed, but I'm pushing, and I'm sorry...I hope it works out all right.
Please tell me what you think!
Anyway,
who's up for another round of
WHICH ARC AM I COVERING?!
and there are foreshadowing hints to that one time Seita was embarrassed by his mom's bento, and also the time Gin and Tsukki tried teaching him history lolollolololllllllll