The Author Admits This Has Become Just An Intense Sleepover Party

"Would you rather be trapped in a room with Sougo or Kagura?" Gintoki asked. It was the first sentence that had passed between them in about an hour. Gintoki had been scratching pictures into the wall using the metal edge of his belt. He wiped down the corner with his thumb and rolled onto his back, masterpiece complete. Hijikata stopped exercising, resting his knees on the floor from the push ups he had been doing.
"Sougo."
"Hmm?" Gintoki murmured. "Interesting." Hijikata wasn't one for small talk or verbal games, but anything was better than the silence they had suffered. Boredom wasn't even the word. He was a heartbeat away from chewing his nails to shreds and banging his head on the concrete floor.
"Would you rather eat dog poo flavoured mayonnaise or mayonnaise flavoured dog poo?"
"Dog poo flavoured mayonnaise, obviously. Mayo all the way."
"But it wouldn't taste of mayonnaise?"
"As long as it hasn't passed through a dog's anus, I don't really care." He had a point. "Would you rather eat only parfaits for the rest of your life, or never eat a parfait again?"
"You know my answer. Would you rather date Kondou or a Gorilla?"
"What's the difference?"
"Ooh," Gintoki wiggled his eyebrows. "Vice commander has a sense of humour."
"Would you date the Shimura girl or that blonde woman?"
"Tsukki? … Hmmm. Either way, my lifespan would be considerably shortened. Tsukki, so that I wouldn't have to deal with your gorilla or Pattsuan. Would you rather do it with a man or a woman?" Hijikata nearly choked on air.
"What?!"
"Come on, we were heading that way anyway. Let's skip the tame, boring questions and get straight to the interesting bit."
"W-w-w... well you answer first."
"Fine, then. I like either. Gin-san doesn't discriminate."
"I, uh, I've … never done it with a man. So I ... don't know."
"Hmm. Would you rather be kissed on the mouth or the neck?" Hijikata flushed bright red. He wasn't used to any sort of intimacy with anyone. These were not answers he shared with even himself because he didn't allow himself the time to think about it. He worked – work was his passion. Looking into Gintoki's expecting eyes made him nervous. His lips were cocked into a slight smirk. He rested on his left side and cradled his face with the palm of his left hand. His bangs fell into his eyes which glinted with mischief. He licked his lips and suddenly there was a rush of blood in Hijikata to a zone other than his face. Instantly, he leapt to his feet and paced around.

"S-stop it. We're not discussing this."
"Why not? There's nothing else to do?" Gintoki shrugged and Hijikata made the mistake of looking over to him again. He could feel himself being persuaded by the tug of curiosity within him that wanted to know the answers to these questions for Gintoki. He wanted to know what made him tick … and why he was looking at him that way.
"What about you then?"
"Hmmm … it's a secret."
"What?!" Hijikata spluttered.
"Sit down. Stop pacing, you're making me dizzy." Hijikata obeyed because the odd sensation had faded. He sat just short of Gintoki, legs folded. "You're sweating."
"I was exercising whilst you were doodling."
"I was watching."
"Creep."
"Who do you think would win out of the two of us in an arm wrestle?" Gintoki asked curiously but Hijikata scoffed at him.
"I wouldn't lose to a lazy shit like you."
"Try me."

They had to call it a draw in the end. Neither had a hold over the other and it had been two whole minutes of lactic acid building in the struggle. Gintoki had to count them down so that they both let go at once and neither cheated. They still didn't trust the other to let go, so in the end there had been three countdowns.

"I can't believe how strong you are when you do fuck all."
"Ooh," Gintoki cooed. "Was that a compliment from the vice-commander?"
"Obviously not, don't fool yourself." Hijikata remembered something, and since they had nothing better to talk about, he brought it up. "What did you and Kagura argue about that day?"
"What day?"
"You know which day."
"We argue all the time. Over sweets, the TV, sweets, food, sweets-"
"I get the idea, now stop changing the subject."

It seemed like Gintoki was going to continue his incredible skill of getting away with hiding things and diverting conversation stems, but instead he went quiet. His lips fell shut. A pensive expression edged into his features. It was beginning to creep Hijikata out.

"I just really..." He sighed. His head dropped forwards a little. "I really wanted to see Ketsuno Ana live."

He should have known. He really should have known. And god knows he should be this pissed off. If ever Hijikata strayed near something that required a serious answer, he passed it off effortlessly and turned the situation on its head. If he hadn't have become wise to his ways, Hijikata would have let him. He would have raged about how much of an idiot the perm was. He would have believed him. Not this time. He was learning. He was understanding the way this man thought, and it was nowhere near as simple as he had first believed. The guy was constantly avoiding things, but he was chatty enough for people not to notice. He was so natural. A natural liar.

"Did you upset her?" Hijikata pressed, indulging in the slight surprise on Gintoki's face as his comment was brushed off.
Gintoki shrugged passively, "Kinda."
"And why-" Hijikata was about to ask why Gintoki had smoked that time, and about what he had said, but there was a vibrating noise coming from Gintoki's crotch that posed too great a distraction to ignore. A hug grin erupted over Gintoki's face and he exclaimed, "A-ha!", reaching into his undergarments whilst Hijikata watched on, slack jawed.

The tiny device he removed displayed a message too small for Hijikata to read in the split second he saw it, but whatever it said, Gintoki was beaming.

"Time to fuck shit up." He said.

Sakamoto had two out of three of the yorozuya sat before him, a few shinsengumi and the odd civilian. There was simply one connection between these seemingly random people, and that connection had just received a message detailing one word only – safe.

Which, hopefully, they were, but they weren't out of the waters yet. Aside from that, the greatest threat right now was the combined death glare being beamed his way. A grumpy kid, a scary woman and a scornful grandma made a terrible combination in such a small room on his giant spaceship. It was making him feel qu-

Once he finished throwing his guts up, Sakamoto began the long awaited explanation.

"So, ahh," he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "yer all safe now, ahahaha." A pair of hands grasped at his collar.
"You bastard, who do you think you are, ahh~? And why are we on this ship? You better spit it out quick or I'll feed those sunglasses through your nostrils."
"Calm down, Otae-chan," the shinsengumi captain said in vain, smiling broadly. She shifted her demon eyes onto him and he backed down quickly. "But she's right; who are you?"
"Kintoki asked me teh keep you safe (for a price). Yer've all been under threat since Kintoki was taken – hostages, in a way. But thanks to the King of Covert Op's pre-conceived plan, yer all safe on my sh-blleeehh-"
"Where is Gin-chan?" Kagura demanded.
Mutsu appeared from the shadows. "He was captured by those who staged the terrorist attack on the shopping centre, the same people behind the scenes of the government scandal not too long ago. The shinsengumi vice-commander is there too."
"Hang on," Kondo frowned, "What does Tosshi have to do with any of this?"
"This seems to be somethin' that the shiroyasha has figured out fer himself. We're not certain, but I'm sure many people would be afteh' the shiroyasha's head, and even more for the vice-commander's. Teh question is, who'd be after both? Who would have a grudge against the government and the rebels?"
"How do we save them?" Shinpachi asked.
"Yer don't. Sit tight and be saved fer now. Kintoki has a plan and yer lot could step in and ruin it."
"A plan?"
"Of course there'd be a plan! It's Kintoki we're talking about." Sakamoto laughed heartily. "That's why yer on my ship. Now Kintoki can move freely. Who do you think would be the first in line to buy those two idiots, hm?"
"I can think of a few hundred," Sougo piped up but was shunned by Kondo's worried admonishment.
"Who?" He asked.
"Well, there's a certain jouishishi extremist group that aren't fond of you shinsengumi folk." Sakamoto then lowered his head so that he peered over his glasses. "And a particular commander that has a connection to the shiroyasha."
"Kiheitai!" Shinpachi exclaimed, piecing the parts together quicker than the rest of them. Kondo shot him a surprised glance.
"Really? So Kintoki- I mean, Sakata-san and Tosshi are being sold to the Kiheitai? Isn't that bad?"
Sougo hummed, "He'll be betting on that transference." All eyes turned on him. "The most dangerous part of a transaction is when you take them from one cell to another. And if it's the Kiheitai, they likely won't kill them first, right?"
"Probably," Sakamoto nodded. "Kintoki is betting on the Kiheitai being the highest bidder. Then they'll escape during the transference."
Otae wasn't convinced and offered a consoling hand to Kagura's shoulder. "What if the Kiheitai don't buy them?"
"Well," Sakamoto paced the floor, the click of his shoes resonating through the concentrated silence between them. "Then there's two scenarios." His footsteps added to the tension held within that pause. "There's a transferral and all goes ahead as normal. Or …"
"They're killed on the spot without leaving their cell." Sougo finished. Otae gasped aloud, covering her mouth with her hands.
"'sactly. But likely those two have practical use. More people'll want em' alive."
Sougo snorted, "you hope."
"And now that we're all caught up an' happy, we wait for part two." Sakamoto smiled, showing his teeth. "I wish those two would get over their petty fight and just make up." He sighed almost to himself.

Gintoki was left with a few bruises once he finished explaining their next steps to Hijikata.
"Your whole plan bets on us kicking the asses of the guards that hold us when that extremist bastard takes us aboard his ship?" Hijikata pounded the wall with his fist, exasperated. "You've been beaten to a sopping mess and I'm not in top form. The Kiheitai have Yato on their side – Yato. And worse. Surely you know that this is a suicide mission?"
"Now, now. Calm down. Of course I'm not that stupid. And we both wouldn't be injured if it wasn't for one hot-headed policeman."
"Don't you dare blame this on me-"
"I'm not. Look, I've a few things handy to help us out."
"If it isn't a nuclear bomb, I'm not convinced." Hijikata snorted, folding his arms. Gintoki reached his hand into his boxers and rummaged around.
"Da-daa!" He cried, presenting tiny snot-like balls of some blue substance. "Space dynamite!" Hijikata eyed them suspiciously. "We blow stuff up."
"You're an imbecile, don't you know?" He sighed. "And if you blow your own balls up, it's entirely your own fault."

Gintoki stuffed them back into their hiding place. He was smiling to himself making content mutters under his breath. Hijikata noticed his strong jawline and high cheek bones. He let his eyes wander down the triangular expanse of his back from broad shoulders to narrow hips. He saw the lines of his tight black top and imagined the muscle beneath, looked at where the sleeve hem dug slightly into his biceps … there was no doubt about it. Gintoki was strong, bursting with testosterone. Even the slight twitch of his hand each time there was a creak in the room showed Hijikata just how in tune he was with the world; he believed that to be a mental scar from the war he fought at such a young age. Hijikata knew him to be a reckless but powerful swordsman, more of a slayer than a killer because of just how rampant and aggressive his fighting style had developed to be. But despite the strong mould for a samurai that stood before him, Gintoki was sweating. He was cold, evident from the tremors he couldn't remove from his hands and the goosebumps erupting over his skin. He couldn't sit still, but his movements were jarred.

As well as he tried to hide it, he was in no position for fighting. The reason he didn't seem aware of this himself? He'd probably fought in worse states. It was something that Hijikata had rarely known himself. If there was a fight to be done, it was planned and conducted with purpose. Each member of the team was selected and positioned, every move a pre-conceived map they had devised. Never would a wounded soldier be taken out on a dangerous mission – it was unheard of. There were no such rules to war. You fought or you died, and Hijikata had been fortunate enough to avoid such an environment. He knew fighting through pain, he understood that adrenaline rush to power on … this was another matter entirely. Who knew what was fuelling Gintoki to ignore his injuries? Whatever it was had to be a strong psychological drug to help him forget about the bullet wound to his chest, the crisping blood on his battered wrist and god knows what other wounds he had picked up.

When Hijikata realised he was worried, he started. This was different. This was new. Why was he so concerned with Gintoki's state? Of course, he had never wanted the idiot to die or anything but … why was something burning inside of him to stand in front of Gintoki? He felt compelled to stand between Gintoki and the door, to plan an attack with the man safely behind his back … He wanted to protect him from harm.

It was a hard notion to understand. The closest he could relate it to was his feelings for Kondou and he had no need to say aloud that he would take any amount of bullets for his commander. What about Gintoki? What did that make him? He was special, that was for sure. He couldn't call him a friend, nor a comrade. Not any more. Something between them had changed - at least on his side of the equation. He glanced back over to Gintoki once more who was picking stones out of the soles of his boots with fervent concentration.

All of a sudden, there was a click of the door. Gintoki rapidly looked up and nodded to Hijikata. It was time. A ball of doubt churned in Hijikata's stomach as he closed in on Gintoki's side, drawing close. The door groaned open. A voice floated through the gap as the door remained no more than a fist's width open. One look at the man by his side told him that the voice was familiar.
"I've come to pick you up, Gintoki," the voice said.
"I thought my offer would appeal to you," he shrugged in reply, but there was a niggle of confusion tugging at his frown. Hijikata could feel it because he was thinking the same. The door... why wasn't it opening?
"Indeed, to think I would come to possess the commander of the shinsengumi so easily." He laughed. "Though, you have underestimated me, Gintoki." Hijikata placed himself a pace in front of Gintoki, braced to move. Something was coming. "How long have I known you?"
"Too long." The man laughed once more and he just oozed relaxation and calmness.
"I know your way of doing things." Just then, a metallic clank sounded as a ball rolled into the chamber. Hijikata's hand was on Gintoki's chest, pushing him backwards, distancing him from the unknown object. "Gintoki … I know you too well. Goodnight."

The door sealed shut and the horror on Gintoki's face told Hijikata that he knew what was about to happen and it was not good. His own realisation came seconds later as steam began to pour out of the device in an icy cloud. He backed up and pushed Gintoki with him, but Gintoki was busy doing something else. He scrambled for the devices and threw them at the door. One, two, three of them. They collided with a soft thud and a second later, they exploded. The sound was deafening, despite their small size but Hijikata was already choking on something else. The explosives had been strong, but not strong enough to do more than dent the metal door. They were still trapped with the device still pouring white mist into the room. Hijikata began to cough and it felt like sandpaper was in his mouth, on his tongue, scratching his throat. Hell, even his lungs were on fire. Each breath was coughing up liquid that really shouldn't be there. His eyes stung like there was acid on his retinas. All of a sudden, a white sheet wrapped itself around his face with a flash of blue and it took a moment before he realised what it was. The yukata did not eradicate the pain but he felt less like he was breathing in pure fire. Gintoki though! He fought his arms out of the cloth to find him. He caught onto one hand, the one pressing the sheet to his face, and grasped it. The energy in his legs drained away, lack of oxygen, but there was something behind him helping him to stand. The wheezing was getting worse, the mist was still thick in the air and his consciousness was slipping away from him. He didn't have the capacity to figure out if this was a deadly poison or sleeping gas. Either way, he certainly felt like he was dying.

Was this it? Was this fucking it?

The sturdy weight behind him faltered, then dropped away and there was no longer a force keeping him upright. He was only thankful that he didn't think he'd be conscious when he hit the solid concrete floor.

Gintoki had a throbbing headache. If it weren't for the numbness in his arms, he would have willed himself back into dreamland. Throb, throb. Like someone was hitting the back of his eyes with a stick. A big stick. He had to move, though. If he didn't, he felt like he'd lose his hands from the blood loss that was tingling through his fingers. He stirred with a groan, shifting his wrists but there was a clank and his mobility was halted. He frowned, sleepily, blinking awake. Clank. His hands were stuck.
It was with a jolt that he came back to his senses and realised he was handcuffed. His hands were pulled uncomfortably behind him and round a pole that jutted out from floor to ceiling, essentially locking him to the small circle of space around the bottom. He couldn't do much more than stand and sit, unless he wanted to rip one of his hands off.
His face paled quickly – he felt the blood drain from him – and the only warning he got was a small gip before he was retching all over the floor. He was throwing up no more than water, but most of what he was coughing seemed to come from his lungs. Not good.

"T-Takasugi," he grunted. Whatever had been in that gas was nasty, the bastard had a lot to answer for. "Hijikata!" Gintoki staggered to his feet and took his first good look around. He seemed to be in some kind of storage room. There were boxes, crates and loose objects piled high at every angle around him. The room was large, maybe half a football pitch, and from what he could see strips of box-less corridors had been created for access out of his sight. He was in the centre of the room with a good view of the door. "Hijikata!" He repeated, louder.

He was alone and this was definitely not the outcome he had predicted. He had been read like a book and because of his stupidity, Hijikata could be anywhere on this ship – of course it was a ship. This was Takasugi's ship and he was in the container section right in its belly. God knows where Hijikata was and though Gintoki knew that he himself was safe, the same couldn't be said for his friend. He knew Takasugi well and he wouldn't hurt Gintoki. There was more to their relationship than any simple revenge. In fact, if it were just him being sold, the Kiheitai wouldn't have shown a shred of interest. The reason he was here was because Takasugi wanted to watch the world burn, and Hijikata was his tool to do so.

Gintoki couldn't help but feel nauseated all over again.

What had he done?