Chapter Text
At 6, Shinsuke counts stars. It's something he enjoyed doing with his mother. After dinner, the two of them would sneak out of the Takasugi household when Shinsuke's supposed to be getting ready for bed. His father remained heedless of the fact. His mother would place a picnic mat on the grass, sit down, and pat the space beside her, where Shinsuke would gleefully lie down. They would look up to the night skies and watch as the stars brilliantly shone through the darkness.
Shinsuke counts the number of times his mother smiles and laughs as he tells her about his day—about how the lectures in the Military Academy was very boring, about the matches he fought and won, about the new classmate who joined their class today and kept nagging him after seeing the piles of tired bodies that he had beaten up.
His mother laughs heartily amidst a fit of dry coughs. Shinsuke counts the days since she first started getting sick, too. Not that he would ever tell her. She pats his head affectionately and he listens when she speaks, “You've really become a strong boy, Shinsuke.”
Shinsuke huffs arrogantly under her praise. “Don't worry, Kaa-san. I'll only get stronger and stronger! I'll become an admirable samurai, and protect you!”
“Is that a promise?”
“Of course!” Shinsuke declares in a tone that makes it hard to argue.
His mother's gaze softens and she pats his head again. “Right. Soon, you'll be strong enough to protect all of your loved ones. Not just me, Shinsuke.”
When he goes to bed, he counts sheeps in order to sleep. His mother softly counts alongside him as she combs through his hair with her fingers.
A month later, she is diagnosed with a terrible disease. Apparently, she's had it for a long time now, but she always shrugged off Shinsuke's suggestions to visit the hospital so they were left unaware till now. Once he learns of it, Shinsuke's father enrages, hurriedly calling various doctors to cure his mom. But his grandfather, the head of the family at the time, was against their marriage in the first place. No doctor comes to their aid.
Shinsuke counts the stars at night through the window, his sick mother lying on the bed behind him. He counts the times his father visits his mother: thrice. Each time with a different apology, which his mother so readily accepts.
“Why...” Shinsuke himself almost winces when he hears his own voice slightly crack over a single word. He heaves a deep breath, thinking to himself for a moment if he should continue speaking. However, he's unable to hold himself back from asking anymore, so he shakily asks, “H-How can you forgive him so easily every single time?”
His mother peered at him and forced her weak self to smile. She can't even raise herself up to sit without any assistance, can't swallow food down without feeling the urge to puke it all out in the next moment.
Shinsuke can't understand.
“He's already engaged to another woman,” he frowned, “You aren't even gone, yet! Aren't you hurting? How can you take all this pain and not get mad at him?”
“Shinsuke,” his mother called, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. Her previously bright and pristine voice has softened much more. “That's just how it is.”
Shinsuke furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“That's just how love is.” She lightly pinches his cheek as if it would help prove her point, but Shinsuke could barely even feel it. “It's painful, perhaps even much more than my own disease.”
“So, why—”
“But it can't be helped because I love that man.” She finished with a solemn smile.
Something about that leaves Shinsuke feeling even more confused.
If that's how love is, then he'd rather not know how it feels. His train of thought comes to a stop when he feels his mother's gentle caress on his face. He glanced at her and met her fond expression with a conflicted one.
“And I love you, too, Shinsuke.”
At her funeral a few months later, Shinsuke wears his cleanest, blackest clothes. He doesn't cry. Instead, he counts the few that do. And counts the tears shed by the sky.
When he gets back home, his mother's room is already getting tidied up. If he had gotten back earlier, he probably could've stopped them. He counts the maids and servants that carried his mother's belongings out.
Shinsuke will fulfill his promise, no matter what. He attends school even though it's boring. He keeps to himself at home even though the new presence there was annoying.
He counts the onigiris or any other food that Katsura shares with him. He counts the number of consecutive victories he collects over his snot-nosed classmates. He counts the times his father and teachers scold him, as if them doing so would get him to obey. He counts the rare days that he gets to stay away.
At 10, Shinsuke meets Gintoki for the first time.
His reaction during that meeting had been... Well, he was baffled, so to say. He didn't expect another kid ‘playing hooky’ coincidentally at the exact moment he was getting surrounded by the older brothers of his cocky classmates, all of which he had beaten up.
At that instance, Gintoki's appearance struck him as odd. Such messy silver hair which looked way too fluffy to touch, and deep red eyes that looked dull yet riveting. Shinsuke felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest as he stared up at the boy that he hadn't even noticed had been napping up a nearby tree. Then, the boy hopped down and started picking his nose. And at that moment, Shinsuke felt something he was more familiar with: disgust.
The encounter leads him to Yoshida Shouyou. Initially, he comes to Shoka Sonjuku to challenge the mysterious older man. But Gintoki's interference wouldn't let Shinsuke get even a step closer to Shouyou.
With his pride on the line, he challenges Gintoki instead. And well... It doesn't really end very well for him.
After that, he counts his losses. He comes to the temple school again and again and again, and keeps losing again and again and again.
“Did you find anything?” Katsura asks, one afternoon.
A certain silver-haired boy sparring with him instantly comes to mind. Lately, his mind seems to be drifting off towards thoughts about that guy. Most of the time, it's due to annoyance at losing. Sometimes, it's his reluctant acknowledgement of the other boy's strength. And during some really, really, really rare moments, it's about fluffy silver hair and pretty red eyes—a fact he might just have to eventually take with him to his grave.
Then, he thinks about his conversation with Yoshida Shouyou about samurai and bushido. It intrigues Shinsuke how the older man could speak so certain yet at the same time uncertain. It was as if he knew everything yet also nothing. Yoshida Shouyou—just like his young, permheaded tag-along—was an oddity. Strangely enough, Shinsuke finds that he doesn't mind. In fact, it astounds him how it seems as if he doesn't even feel slightly repulsed by the pair of master and disciple, because he still ends up coming to that tiny temple school even if it's only to keep on losing.
Finally, he recalls his own promise to his mother—to become a samurai strong enough to protect his loved ones. A promise that he'll fulfill, no matter what it takes. Even at the risk of his own life if need be.
“Not a thing,” Shinsuke mutters in response after a while, his eyes darting upwards to the shrine's ceiling. These past few days, he wouldn't say that he actually found anything. He just came to realize one thing. “...I just realized I'm weak.”
When he finally wins for once, Gintoki doesn't let him get the last word so easily. Shinsuke ends up coming to the temple school again. He starts counting his wins.
Shinsuke also counts his wounds. Some are from his spars with Gintoki, some are from his father's punishments. In his own school, he wordlessly counts the classmates that make fun of his bandaged-up appearance. And yet, he neither fights nor challenges anyone. He has already found a better opponent for that.
Eventually, Shinsuke—after disregarding his father's threats—was disowned, and he and Katsura became the newest additions to Shoka Sonjuku. It somehow happens naturally, like saying “Itadakimasu.” before every meal, or like having the urge to drink yakulk—it's a feeling that's natural for him, similar to how Gintoki has his own urges with sweets and how Katsura has his own urges with onigiri and soba, and Neuruto has his urges with ramen, and Zuffy from One Park with meat. (Shouyou-sensei bonking them on the head whenever he deems it's necessary also happens naturally.)
Ultimately, he starts counting the days of laughter that come as they move about their humble temple school; his newfound home.
“Ah.”
Shinsuke looks up from where he's sitting on the ground with his back on the wall, his green eyes meeting Gintoki's own red ones. “Ah.”
Gintoki scrunches his nose up as if he had smelled some horrible stench—which, if true, is very likely to be coming from himself and very unlikely to be coming from Shinsuke since he had just recently taken a bath—and turns around to walk back to the direction he had come from.
“Nevermind. I don't wanna get caught playing hooky with you.”
“Who's playing hooky?!”
Gintoki faces him again and blankly stares as if Shinsuke was being an idiot. As if he was pointlessly asking the obvious. As if he was asking whether the sky was blue, or if the grass was green, or if the porridge cooked by Sensei yesterday tasted good—it didn't but they all ate it, anyway.
Shinsuke rolls his eyes. “I'm not playing hooky, okay? Don't lump me in with the likes of you.”
At that, Gintoki only starts picking his ear. “What are you doing here, then? Hiding from Zura?” When Shinsuke neither confirms nor denies his statement, the perm-headed boy continued with a teasing grin, “Why don't you play along with him once in a while? It's just a kimono.”
“That idiot wants me to pretend to be a geisha, along with him,” he grumbles, “I don't understand why he's so willing to do it just because everyone else said it might look good on him.”
A snort escapes Gintoki and he's about to say something when Shinsuke continued speaking, “Why don't you and that stupid head of yours do it with him, instead?”
At the next moment, he hears the sound of approaching footsteps closeby, so he yanks Gintoki to the ground beside him and warily looks around. He then unwittingly adds, still grumbling, “...Who knows, maybe it'd suit you and your pretty face more.”
Gintoki doesn't speak for a few seconds.
Baffled, since it's usually too difficult to get Gintoki to shut his stupidly loud mouth, Shinsuke turns to look at him and blinks in confusion. Shinsuke counts the seconds that tick by as they remain quietly staring at each other. Until it finally dawns on him.
“Wait, no! That's not what I—”
The sheer brilliance of Gintoki's mischievous grin threatens to turn Shinsuke to ash. It is as if a pair of rubies are shimmering as he giggles cheekily behind his hand.
“Ohoho, so little Takasugi-kun thinks I'm pretty? Do you have a crush on me or something? Is that why you keep challenging me to spar, everyday?” He playfully bumps Shinsuke on his shoulder. “Gosh, Takasugi-kun, that's such a childish tactic to get my attention.”
“I'm telling you, that's not it!” Shinsuke grabs Gintoki by his hem in a challenging manner and pulls him close to get him to stop teasing. Gintoki blinks, blankly looking at Shinsuke's hands then his face, and Shinsuke can't help the way his cheeks instantly flushed. “W-What is i—”
“Aha! I found you, Takasugi!” The loud sound of Katsura's voice next to them startles the pair. “Oh, Gintoki. You were here, too?” Emerald eyes quickly glowered at Gintoki, who merely raised his hands like he was claiming to be innocent. Shinsuke felt mocked, instead.
In the end, all three of them dressed up as geishas. Shouyou gladly took many pictures, which Shinsuke refuses to count, whilst their classmates shared a good laugh.
At 14, he gets his first kiss.
It was an unprecedented accident. And with Gintoki of all people. Katsura was there when it took place and promised to not make fun of them. But of course, the blabbermouth had told Shouyou-sensei and their classmates—who then teased them for days. And sure, he didn't tease them personally just like he promised, but they ultimately still got teased. So maybe, just maybe, Shinsuke is kinda holding a grudge.
Zura's an idiot though, and Shinsuke already knew that well enough. So maybe, Shinsuke might have already gotten an inkling that things would turn out this way. That's why he isn't overly mad at Zura. Not like he can say it's the same case for Gintoki, though.
Shinsuke tries not to count the few stolen kisses that secretly occurred behind walls after that. They just happen to be with Gintoki, as well.
A mere coincidence. Something by chance.
Perhaps if he keeps telling himself that, it'd come true. But maybe, just maybe, Shinsuke is already aware that it won't. And maybe, just another maybe, a teeny tiny part deep inside of him likes that.
Things start going downhill when Shouyou gets captured. At the time, only Gintoki had been around to witness as their home was brought to ruins. Only Gintoki had been around to watch hopelessly as Shouyou was taken away from himself, away from their school, away from them.
Katsura quickly gets between them before Shinsuke can start berating Gintoki.
Was he even about to blame the other boy? Shinsuke could barely even think properly the minute he and Katsura came home from the next town over to the sight of their burntdown temple school. He could barely even take the few steps needed to reach the lone and tied-up Gintoki whom Katsura hurriedly released. He could barely even process the instant despair that he felt as soon as Gintoki had mumblingly informed them that their precious master was taken away.
So, how could he possibly berate Gintoki, who witnessed the capture of his master—someone he definitely considered as his own father figure—all alone and helpless? How could Shinsuke possibly blame Gintoki, whose usually expressionless face, for once, contained the most despair of them all?
At 15, Shinsuke counts the few of their fellows from Shoka Sonjuku that were brave enough to follow their lead to save Shouyou, and with it, take him back to their home.
Alongside the three of them, they all joined the war.
At 16, Shinsuke counts his scars. Large or small. From swords or guns. Some healed easily, while others did not.
Shinsuke counts dead bodies. The war had already began many years before they went and joined. It has been at a stubborn standstill, but it was obvious enough that the amantos had the advantage. The bakufu had long since abandoned the samurai and chose to compromise under the amantos. However, the samurai remained relentless and persistent.
It's a battle for their country's future. A fight with lots to gain but at the same time lose.
For Shinsuke, Gintoki, and Katsura—now highly regarded as the ‘heavenly kings’ of the jouishishi, along with Sakamoto who joined their little group amidst the war—it's a fight to get back what they lost.
Allies slowly fell apart one after another. Thus, Shinsuke meets new allies and can only leave behind the fallen ones. He tries to count both, but it gets harder and harder to keep count.
Their environment has changed from the calm and peaceful Shoka Sonjuku to the battlefield. And yet, he and Gintoki remains the same. Or so Katsura says.
“Mn, he's the same, alright. His height hasn't changed one bit. And yet, he still wonders why I always look down on him,” Gintoki surmised, a hand under his chin. Afterwards, he nonchalantly placed his arm atop Shinsuke's head, before acting all surprised and distancing himself. “Oh, sorry, Takasugi-kun! You're so short that I didn't see you there. See, if you hear ‘Takasugi’, wouldn't you think of something too high? How about we start calling you Hikusugi-kun from now on!”
Sakamoto laughed aloud like he has never heard of anything funnier, while Katsura merely sighed.
Annoyed, Shinsuke elbowed Gintoki on his stomach, making him groan. “Who're you calling Hikusugi-kun, you asshole?”
This wasn't the time nor place to play or joke around. This was a battlefield.
But for some reason, even Shinsuke can't help the slight quirk that forms around the corners of his own lips as Katsura reprimands Gintoki, who doesn't even bother pretending to listen. He thinks to himself, Well, maybe just once in a while.
However, as the war continues on, the lack of support from the bakufu becomes more evident. Sakamoto tries as much as he can to search for sponsors and resources. However, their supplies and resources still become less and less, resulting in the lack of motivation for some to continue with their bout. Soon enough, a minority among their allies decided to exit the battlefield, fearing that they'd only be dying for a lost cause.
Shinsuke tries to count those that chose to leave them behind and those that chose to stay. Truly, too difficult a task for a single man.
“Will you leave, too?” Even Shinsuke himself knows it's a stupid question to ask, but one day, he just finds himself asking Gintoki.
The two of them were standing around the edges of a tall cliff, quietly watching as, a distance away from them, former allies scrambled and departed away. Those backs that used to stand in front, beside, and behind him would no longer be there the next time they engage in battle.
“Do you want me to?” Gintoki replies with a question of his own. With his deadfish eyes and blank face, it's hard to discern if he was seriously asking or being sarcastic.
There are times when he acts this way. So different from his usual annoying self. Such that even Katsura, ever the mother-figure of their little group and self-proclaimed ‘Gintoki-expression expert’, can't tell what he's thinking.
It's frustrating, and sometimes makes Shinsuke want to beat him up to a pulp so he'd just willingly tell them already. Although years of being with the man tell Shinsuke that even doing that wouldn't get Gintoki to talk. Perhaps not even a bribe of sweets. Shinsuke had learned with time that, despite his usual playful and annoying personality, Gintoki was stubbornly tight-lipped when it came to his own feelings and thoughts. Seriously, what a difficult bastard.
Shinsuke snorts. “Even if I did, you wouldn't listen to me anyway. So will you or won't you?”
He glances at Gintoki and silently admires the man's side profile. Gintoki surely feels his piercing gaze, however he doesn't return it and only keeps looking down the cliff.
A strong gust of wind passes by. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going to take them, only knows that it was passed time for it to happen. Lately, there seemed to be too many things needing to be said between the two of them.
It was uncomfortable for two people who hadn’t ever needed words before. Or well, two people who would rather fight with their fists and wooden swords rather than use words.
“Who knows.” Shinsuke does. He knows that despite Gintoki's complaints and their arguments, Gintoki wouldn't leave.
He wouldn't.
At least this, Shinsuke doesn't need him to say through words to understand. Perhaps all that time spent fighting and arguing with the bastard is what's giving him the confidence to think like this.
In the end, the two of them remained standing there together around the edges of a tall cliff in temporary peace, their eyes only gazing forward. It's an easy silence; one that neither of them felt the need to break. And albeit the circumstances, Shinsuke felt as if there's a solace in Gintoki's unwavering presence.
If their hands somehow end up intertwining together at some point, they don't address it.
It's tough, continuing onwards. They strategize, fight, kill, escape. Eating and sleeping becomes a luxury. Gintoki cuts enemies down from the front, Shinsuke leads their troops, and Katsura takes care of the rearguard to ensure that they can make a proper escape when the need comes.
Tireless days and sleepless nights ensue.
However, one night was unlike any other.
As everyone else slept and rested inside their temporary tents (which are very uncomfortable by the way, but they don't really have much choice since they're heavily lacking in resources right now, so they have to make do), Shinsuke had been standing guard outside on his own; the few others assigned at the same time as him, standing guard elsewhere. The unusual sound of whimpers and shaking from Gintoki's tent suddenly catches his attention. And from then on, Shinsuke counts the nights that he holds Gintoki close.
A very close fight with the amantos gets Sakamoto severely injured, and now, he's left with no choice but to leave the battlefield.
The expression on Shinsuke's face hardened as his grip on his sword's hilt tightened. He listens to Sakamoto bidding Gintoki his farewells on the top of a roof. There's a bitter feeling on the tip of his tongue when it seems to take a few moments of silence before Gintoki rejects Sakamoto's offer to go to space with him.
Maybe, it'd be better for him if he just leaves, too. Shinsuke shakes the thought away from his head. No. Gintoki will stay. He wouldn't leave. He'll stay here with me. And with Zura. Together, we'll all save Sensei.
That night, Shinsuke embraces Gintoki once more. If Shinsuke's grip on Gintoki's waist was slightly tighter than before and Gintoki's low moans of his name sounded a little more desperate, they don't address it.
The next day, Sakamoto takes his leave. He expresses his regrets about leaving them—especially Gintoki, whom he regards as an ‘interesting catch’ within this small, blue planet. Sometimes, Shinsuke finds himself envious of how Sakamoto can be so open and honest. But of course, he'd never admit that.
Shinsuke quietly waves him goodbye and watches from a couple distance behind Gintoki, whilst Katsura proceeds to give Sakamoto one final hug.
There goes one of us.
Day after day, they slowly lose more and more of their comrades. It feels as if a tight rope was tied around Shinsuke's neck, the knot leisurely enclosing on him, getting tighter and tighter by each passing moment.
At that point, only he, Gintoki, Katsura, and then some remained alive among Shoka Sonjuku's students. Shinsuke sometimes wonders how they'll explain this to Shouyou-sensei when they save him, starts wondering if they'll even make it to him.
And then, Katsura starts getting nightmares. Just like them. He doesn't tell Shinsuke nor Gintoki. But it was obvious that he wasn't getting much sleep, simply judging from the evident exhaustion on his face. He looks like he's fighting amantos even in his sleep.
They don't do anything to console him. And Katsura never asks them to comfort him, either.
Instead, they pretend that nothing is wrong when all three of them are together. Trying to laugh just like the old times, arguing over little things like kids, and through subtle brushing of skins when walking past each other, they provide each other with warmth and comfort from each other's presence. A subtle reminder that they're still alive. That they're still together.
It feels as if things could start turning out for the better soon and they can go back again. Back to being the little bad boys of Shoka Sonjuku, back to simply being students of Yoshida Shouyou.
That is, until the worst nightmare occurs in reality.
With all their remaining allies either captured or dead, Shinsuke and Katsura—both tied up with tight ropes all around their bodies—are forced to witness Gintoki decapitate their master with his own sword.
All of these, due to their own weaknesses.
“No, please.. Stop!"
All of these, in order to save them.
“Gintoki...!”
Eventually, the three of them found themselves dismally standing at the edge of a cliff. Lone and defeated. Their master's head pitifully laid on the ground atop a blanket. Only Katsura pitifully wept for their loss; perhaps not enough tears shed for the grief of all three of them combined.
Shinsuke can no longer look at Gintoki. His left eye is already engraved enough with the face of that man he loves despises the most.
With promises broken, and his failure to save his master, Shinsuke comes to a realization. It's the same as before, just like back when he was merely 10 and had nothing to do but challenge a small temple school, ultimately leading to his disownment.
He's still so weak.
In the end, contrary to his previous belief, Gintoki leaves. Without a single word.
And, at 17, Shinsuke stops counting.
Shinsuke ended up reforming the Kiheitai. With new comrades by his side, he seeks the destruction of this world that only taught him the knowledge of pain, loss, and anguish.
Years passed by. Shinsuke turned 18, then 19, and then 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25... He stayed in contact with Katsura, who had decided to fight to 'rebuild the country’. And he's not sure how exactly Sakamoto—who apparently has been roaming around the universe—figured out his location, but he would often send Shinsuke nonsensical gifts from space, too.
On the contrary, Gintoki's whereabouts remained unknown.
At 26, Shinsuke no longer counts anything.
Even if countless people die under his command, they've died for the great cause. With his knowledge and experience gained from the war, he formed new connections—such that probably would've been a huge help if he had made them during the war itself but at the same time he knows that he couldn't possibly have made back then.
From time to time, Katsura would keep tabs on him. As if Shinsuke needed someone to worry over him. He doesn't. He no longer does.
“Shinsuke.”
Shinsuke turned his head to see Bansai handing him an envelope. His brows furrowed unknowingly as he side-eyed it. He knows that Bansai isn't the type to pass matters that he could presonally deal with to him. But he can't seem to recall any important reason for him to receive a letter today.
Noticing that he had no qualms about taking it, Bansai told him, “It's from Katsura Kotarou.”
Hearing that, Shinsuke sighed. He reluctantly put down his kiseru and accepted the envelope.
“I daresay it seemed important, so I personally brought it to you.” Shinsuke made a hum sound in acknowledgement. Bansai watched as he took a letter out of the envelope, calmly taking his own seat on the corner of the room and beginning to play his shamisen. “Perhaps, it would explain the recent bombing incident in Ikedaya.”
“A bombing incident where? Wasn't Katsura planning to bomb the terminal?” Matako asked as she entered the room with Takechi trailing behind her. They're supposed to discuss their next stratagem as soon as Bansai returned today.
It's Takechi that explains to her: “Apparently, a bomb recently went off at Ikedaya, although no one was harmed in the end. Katsura-san appears to be involved with the matter. According to our informants, the Shinsengumi caught Katsura-san meeting up with another man.”
“Another man?” Matako repeated, carefully placing a cup of tea on the table beside Shinsuke, before she sneaked a curious peek at him and the letter he was reading. A derisive snort abruptly escaped the man before he can help it, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “...Shinsuke-sama?”
Shinsuke covered the top half of his face as he threw his head back and laughed. He kept laughing, paroxysms of hilarity prompting him to unintentionally spill the tea when his arm brushed by the cup.
“Ah!” Matako gasped. She then glanced questioningly towards both Bansai and Takechi. But the two of them could only return her gaze with faces just as confused.
Shinsuke soon calmed down. An amused chuckle still managed to slip from his lips, however. He tore the paper into pieces.
“...What happened, Shinsuke?” Bansai inquired for the sake of the curiosity of all three of them. They watched as Shinsuke stood up, taking his kiseru with him.
“Finish our business here. We're going to Edo.” is all that he says before he makes his exit.
On the contrary, only one name remains in his mind.
Gintoki...
“Zura,” Shinsuke started in a light tone, “Running away from bakufu dogs as usual, I see.”
“Zura ja nai, Katsura da.” automatically came in response, but Shinsuke only shrugged. Having known the Katsura for more than a decade, he has already grown accustomed to the other's peculiarities. “Why are you here? I thought you were hiding yourself in Kyoto.”
“I heard there's a festival coming up,” Shinsuke smiled, “I couldn't help myself, so I came.”
It took the long-haired terrorist a while to respond. Memories of their childhood quickly came to mind—going to festivals together, eating food from different stalls using the little pocket money provided by Shouyou-sensei (to this day, he wonders where the older man had gotten it from since they often barely scraped by), then watching the fireworks display at night. Even Gintoki, who used to only move around by his lonesome or trail behind Shouyou-sensei, slowly began opening up to them during their first festival together.
Katsura squeezed his eyes shut and forced the thoughts out of his mind. Not the time. When he opened his eyes again, he casted a quick glance at Shinsuke, who was looking beyond the bridge while smoking his pipe.
Seeing him so relaxed, Katsura couldn't help but feel tense for his sake. “...Even if you love festivals, you should be aware of your limits. You're hated by the bakufu even more than I am, you know. You'll die if they catch you.”
The small smile on Shinsuke's lips twisted into a smirk. They both know the last part's not true. The bakufu dogs would not be able to catch him that easily, much less be able to kill him.
“Well, there's no way I'd miss the festival where the one and only Shogun-sama will die.” Brown eyes widened.
“You.. No way.”
“I have no plans to do the outrageous things you might be imagining in that empty head of yours. But it'll probably be interesting. If the head of the Shogun happens to fly in the middle of the festival, then the bakufu... No, the whole world will be overturned.” Shinsuke nonchalantly stated, before he began to cackle.
Katsura's eyebrows furrowed. “There's no way he'd let you accomplish your plans.”
Briefly, Shinsuke stilled in place. Katsura hadn't even mentioned his name, but Shinsuke already knows who he's pertaining to. He grasped the front of his bamboo hat and lifted it slightly, gazing up ahead.
“Does he even have the power to stop me anymore, Zura?” He ignored the way Katsura tried to interrupt with his catchphrase, and added, “Unlike us, he's busy playing house with those new brats beside him.” He sneered, mockingly. “What a disappointment.”
“Aren't you two...” Katsura paused.
Once again, Shinsuke already knows what he wants to say. But knowing Zura, he wouldn't dare to ask. He never actually had the guts to do so—not back when they were kids in Shoka Sonjuku nor when they were teens engaged in the war.
“...No, nevermind.”
Thus, Shinsuke wouldn't answer his unsaid question, either.
“Zura—”
“Zura ja nai, Katsura da,” Katsura corrected again, but it fell on deaf ears.
“—It's been years since that day. Years since he chose to disappear on us with no farewells, explanation, whatsoever.” Katsura noticeably flinched at Shinsuke's words. Still, the latter continued speaking, “All three of us have already chosen our own paths to walk on. Whoever's choice is right or wrong, only we can decide. And we'll decide it properly with our own swords and fists one day.”
Green eyes peered at Katsura one last time.
“Words never really suited us, after all.”
Afterwards, he lowered his hat and turned to walk away.
“See you around.”
The following day, he returned to that very same bridge.
With his eyes fixated upon the horizon and the lower half of his face aglow with the last orange hues from the skies before the stars are beckoned, a little smile emerged on his lips.
“There you are, Gintoki.” Shinsuke watched as a blank-faced Gintoki was tugged along by the two kids by his side; the emotions upon his face, indescribable.