FEEL DESPAIR AS TEN NEW CHAPTER UPDATES FROM EYES OF WOLVES POPS UP IN YOUR EMAILLLL!
fun facts, yo.
Ch. 31: Shibuya Regret Hall is REAL, it's where Otsuu sang once!
Ch. 31: friggin' asteroid belt
Ch. 31: Loophole fixed, lol.
Ch. 31: Cue author crying over Maizou and Suzuran.
DISCLAIMER: Gintama is not mine, as I have SHORTENED TWO + ENTIRE SEASONS INTO LIKE, ONE MONTH.
Shooguunnnn kayoooooo?!
Eyes of Wolves
- 32 -
.: AUGUST, PRESENT :.
"I can introduce you to some prosthetic arm engineers," Umibouzu commented flatly as they followed Abuto through the incoming 9:00AM crowd. If Zenshi had not known his former vice-captain so well, he would have assumed that Abuto's deprecating smirk was insulting. The mood exuded, however, from the older man was anything but.
"I'll think about it."
.: ELEVEN YEARS AGO :.
Mei leans into his injured thigh with deliberate sadism, probing for the point where he'll curl his lips back in a lupine snarl and chase her away. For a while, Zenshi remains stoic and stiff against the raised back of the hospital bed, eyes fixated so glaringly on her luscious orange hair that he could probably set it ablaze with sheer willpower.
She digs her elbow into his broken femur, nonchalantly.
He snaps and his hand shoots out to shove her away.
"Wow, geez," she spits. "I was comfy."
Mei is naturally comfortable with almost everyone, and has, over the course of the last two years, decided that her third year would be spent with the taciturn dark-haired Yato from three rooms down. On the receiving end, Zenshi is not so sure he appreciates her brutish administrations.
"How's the knee?" She goes to tweak his sprained joint, but at that very moment, their professor walks in. It is their advanced government and intergalactic relations teacher, the one who received a heavy stride by the back of Rokudo's hand in the amphitheatre during the assembly.
"How's the knee?" he asks, reiterating Mei's sardonic inquiry, but with sincere concern.
"Fine," answers Zenshi tersely.
"What a crazy class I have, don't I?" The Amanto smiles. The crinkles around his eyes are proof that he smiles often; he is a kind man who wears comical ties to work and never fails to evoke laughter from his classes. Zenshi's favorite teacher by far. "I guess it can't be helped. I'm just glad everyone's safe now."
Zenshi carefully tucks away the fact that the teacher doesn't issue the regular, "I'm glad no one got hurt," for it would do him no good here.
"Make sure he eats up," the teacher advises Mei. "I've seen him in the study hall for hours on end without eating a single thing."
"Sure thing," Mei chirps. She unceremoniously rocks back onto Zenshi's mattress and cheekily pulls a small apple from her bag. "Unless I eat it all, first."
The rest of their day is spent like that — Mei munching on something from her bottomless pit of a shoulder bag, and Zenshi browsing slowly through a library book he'd requested.
When he actually tells her he's hungry, she laughs.
"I've been waiting all day for you to say that!"
.: AUGUST, PRESENT :.
"Knock, knock," Abuto called, promptly kicking down the door. Half a dozen Harusame aliens lurched to their feet and proposed their weapons at hand. Abuto snorted, the scorn definite in his haughty laughter.
"At ease, men," sailed a nasally voice. Daraku.
As per usual, the blue-skinned Amanto with the elfin ears was contemptuously obsessed with the cleanliness of his clothes, rubbing the fabric of his sleeve furiously between his fingers as if to rid all particles of dust from those fibers. Upon their arrival, he regarded them with a brief glance up and down.
"The 7th Division," he addressed curtly, assuming that all three men in customary Yato dress were of the Harusame. Umibouzu wisely kept to himself, as he was apt to do in serious situations. Zenshi readjusted his cloak collar, recoiling into his introverted self; he had, in his pirate years, despised working with Daraku. The man was incessantly driven to loose ends, never once able to complete his work as he should have.
Of course, Daraku was convinced otherwise. "What brings you here?" he invited with derision.
"7th Division?" Abuto countered caustically. "Our commander is your admiral."
Daraku, very apparently, appeared to have forgotten. His eyes widened briefly before he coughed to clear an already clear throat.
"Of course. The admiral's crew," he tried again with a slight quiver to his nasal voice. "What brings you here?"
"Kada's money." Abuto was a no-nonsense, typical cordiality to business type of man. Most of the Harusame found it relatively easy to guess which mode he was in. Either he was in the mood to talk, or he wasn't. Daraku was one of the few who lacked the social skills and brainpower to deduce any such interpretation. A few of his men quaked in their boots; their captain, on the other hand, complaisantly swished his cape back and forth before leading them to a concealed back room.
"You know," Daraku mentioned casually, "that Kiheitai couldn't have been any ruder in their negotiations."
They passed into a corridor lined with creaky doors and halls.
"Humans," Abuto answered shortly.
"Exactly. And they're always so—"
A sudden hiss from Zenshi caught their attention. Drawing away from an open door, he rounded on Daraku so violently that the blue Amanto turned green in apprehension. Abuto and Umibouzu peered curiously into the door that Zenshi had so vehemently shied from.
It was an autopsy center, complete with glaring lights and metallic tables dulled with the dried lackluster of old blood. Atop the closest was as colorful Amanto child, dead. The stench of rotting flesh was poorly mixed with preservative chemicals, creating a terrible stench that plied through the air maliciously. A few of Daraku's men, poised over the corpse with scalpels and bloodied tools, glanced up.
"That's a Sciuttlan child," Zenshi seethed through his teeth. He didn't need to even ask Daraku what business he had with the child from the rainbow planet. The poor thing was a boy, maybe eight, maybe Seita's age, with once-vibrant yellow skin and grassy hair. His abdomen was methodically sliced open, chain after chain of body-packed drugs extracted from the entire length of his bowels.
"And? All body-packers are willing volunteers. We send a sum of money to his family, and he comes here to die."
"Body-packers don't have to die," Abuto noted calmly. "They—"
Zenshi lunged for Daraku then, but Abuto's right arm blocked his way, curtailing the attempt.
"Not worth it, bud."
"Blue," murmured Umibouzu. "Let it go."
Who was he to tell Zenshi to let it go? Zenshi, snarling inwardly, resentfully withdrew his outward rage. Boiling in his own bubble, he liberally counted the seconds until his anger was enervated.
"Kada's money." Daraku was hardly a squeak, now. "All in here."
Two hefty suitcases filled to the brim with Earth currency. Abuto checked inside and then passed one to Zenshi. He carried the other himself, with his one arm.
"Good," Abuto approved. "Now, carry on. I'll pass on word to the admiral."
As soon as they were outside, Zenshi breathed a sigh of relief, the stench of the hideout freed from his lungs. Abuto, on the other hand, never even paused.
"The transaction will not become known to our stupid Danchou," Abuto clipped briskly. He backtracked. "Our Admiral Nincompoop, excuse me."
"And?" prompted Umibouzu. "What about the war efforts?"
"The woman in Sciuttla — the one you saved, Zen — is the widow of a rebel instigator. He was a major figure, and now she's the one running the show." Abuto was rewinding their way back to the train station. "However, you also know that she runs a massive orphanage for children of the abducted, the killed, and the recruited. This money will serve to either evacuate them liberated cities, resistance-allied planets, or to rebuild and fund their interspersed rebellions.
"And you," Abuto concluded, "are to take it to them, bud."
Zenshi froze, somewhat taken aback.
Abuto, discouragingly, moved on quickly.
"It was an honor to meet you, oh father of ours," Abuto said, nodding at Umibouzu. "Your efforts are greatly appreciated."
"Take care of my stupid son, will ya?" The bald Yato shook his head. "A man with a full head of hair like you, he might listen to. Me?" Umibouzu laughed. "Probably not."
"Don't jinx me now," Abuto chuckled, readjusting the suitcase in his hand. "If only he'll stop giving us messes to clean up."
The two men shared a laugh, leaving Zenshi warily watching the exchange.
"Abuto."
"Don't worry about it, bud." A clap on the shoulder. "Our partners in the trade business will come for you, eventually. At the moment, our new travelling buddies are investing their time in Edo. If you don't hear about the news soon, well… you will. And besides that, we're staying put in our ship, and you — both of you — are free until the time comes."
"Were you the one that set Kada's traps?" Umibouzu suddenly interrupted.
"No, that would be our stupid Danchou," Abuto replied, smirking. "Oh, stupid Teitoku, that is."
"I heard the Earthlings brought her down."
"Yes, that'd be our new partners in crime. They're a fun bunch." Abuto strode over to Zenshi, handing him the second briefcase as they reached the train station by Shibuya Regret Hall. "You've got two arms — carry these."
"Wait—"
"You're not the type of ask questions, so just shut up and wait. We'll take care of ya." Abuto snickered to himself. "Though if you want to ask that girl of yours out on a date, I suggest you open your mouth more."
Zenshi, more momentarily flabbergasted at Abuto's teasing than fretful about his new entrenchment, failed to reply.
.: APRIL, FOUR MONTHS AGO :.
She lifted her eyes from the uneven contour of his wrist.
"Looks like an old break." Her voice was impassive, but not unkind.
"Like old scars," he answered, the blade of grass between his teeth dipping with his words.
"They never really finish healin', do they?"
"No, they don't."
They lapsed into inadequate silence, each to their own thoughts.
cries about ZenTsu
cries about ZenMei
cries about this plot
cries about zooming back in time
cries
crai
cries about hw
which I still haven't done
it's midnight gimme gimme gimme a man after midnightttt...
CLASS 3Z AU: ZENSHI IS A FRIGGIN' MATH TEACHER, PEOPLE. AND TSUKKI THE OTHER STAFF MEMBER HAS A CRUSH OHOHOHOO