Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hoooooot. Too hooooot. 

Why is it. So fucking. Hot.

Who gave the sun permission to work overtime. Who told the sun it could shine as much as it wanted. And why do honest, hard-working folks like him have to go through this every year. That should be illegal. It should be illegal to have a designated part of year dedicated to roasting people alive for no reason. That counts as a war crime somewhere. God, it’s hot. And bright. The streets are practically glowing. Gintoki is pretty sure, if he squints more than he’s already squinting, that he can see heat waves coming off the ground. 

Is that normal? Is it normal for the streets to be sizzling away like some kind of barbecue? No wait, don't think about barbecue. Think about water, nice cold water; think about the ocean, the calming blue and the cool salty breeze. Must be nice to feel constantly cool like that. Must be real frickin' nice.  Can't get any of that here, Kabukichou's an oven in the summer and his moped broke down again, and old man Gengai still hasn't gotten it fixed, so he can't even go to begin with. 

Great. Real frickin' peachy. 

Ugh. Ughhhhhh. He wants to be an ice cube. Peel off his own damn skin. A bead of sweat trickles down his neck into his shirt, soaking around the mosquito bite in the middle of his back that he still can't properly reach, followed by another bead and another and another on the same damn bug bite—

"AaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! What’s with this heat?! Oi sun, take a day off! Get a clue! Have a care for people with heat-absorbent perms!” Fuck’s sake! It's pissing him off! He can feel electricity crackling through it already! “Oi, mister!” The fruit vendor conveniently to his left jumps. “This heat is ridiculous! This counts as a war crime, right? This counts as a war crime against natural perms, right?”

“Huh? Um, yeah, I guess so.” 

“Shut up! You’re perm-less! What do you know about my pain!” The vendor starts sobbing as he stomps away. Why? He should be the one sobbing, damnit! This infernal heat’s declared war on all natural permheads and there’s nothing he can do but take it!

Ugggghhhh so annoying, really, all of it is so annoying. First, the old hag sent Tama to explode his house as a rude awakening and then came up the steps herself to nag him for the rent he's already told her he doesn't have! Doesn't she know what his job is? Doesn't she know that expecting him to pay rent consistently is unreasonable because odd jobs are, by definition, odd? Quality over quantity, he always says, but she doesn't see it that way because she's shallow. 

Then Kagura spent over two hours—two hours!—in the bathroom while he held in the call of biology for so long he pulled some muscles just to avoid pulling a Sadaharu on his living room floorboards, and Shinpachi kicked him out of his own house for the day so he can "touch grass" like he's the resident virgin otaku out of the two of them; if that weren’t enough, Lady Luck abandoned him halfway through a slightly more successful round of pachinko and the strawberry milk that would have compensated for his losses decided to empty itself all over him after he tripped over a Hasegawa-shaped lump in the middle of the street. To top it off, this infernal heat is making his hair frizzy, his clothes stick to him, and rivers of sweat pouring out of orifices he didn't even know he had. How many holes does the human body have anyway? What is he now? A popsicle? A template for a sweaty JUMP hero? A sewer rat drenched in fluids of its own making?!

He was supposed to win today, damnit. Today was supposed to be his lucky day, damnit! Hadn’t Ketsuno Ana said, as he was brushing his teeth with the noonday sun streaming through his window, “Libras should be proud because they will be one step closer to accomplishing their hopes and dreams?” She’s never lied to him before! 

No no no no it can’t be. There’s something messing up her forecast again, isn’t there? Yeah, that’s it. He bets it’s the same guy too; that dude What’s-his-name with the face and the hair. The one who’s always having yelling matches with Gintoki’s would-have-been-brother-in-law like some wannabe Naruto and Sasuke, right? Her ex-husband? Well, whatever. Gintoki was too busy dying from Crushed-k*ntama-itis to properly deal with him back then, but he’ll tie up that loose end today—and he’ll rip out the guy’s analog stick too. 

He turns around at the sound of a car pulling up behind him—and then turns back around, just as quickly. Because it’s not just any random civilian car, oh no. No, it just has to be a sleek, black car, with tinted windows because the hoodlum tax thieves stuffed inside are weird like that. Who do they think they are, huh? Celebrities? As if! Only a select few of them place Top Ten in the character polls every year; Gin-san places first every year and yet somehow it's always him cleaning up their messes, even when he's not being dragged kicking and screaming into them.

The car honks at him. 

The car honks at him. 

The car honks at HIM. 

A drop of sweat slides down his back to join the River Musk already soaking his shirt. His nose itches. His hands and feet also itch, but with the sudden, overwhelming, completely reasonable urge to destroy government property. 

Don’t do it, Gin-san. So he could have customized the voice of his inner narration this entire time, huh? But why is it on the Glasses setting and not the Ketsuno Ana one? Wait—it auto-customized?? Don’t get distracted, Gin-san! You’re clearly in their way! Just move out of the way and let them pass you, the street’s not big enough for both of you!

And that’s exactly why Gin-san will not move out of the way. What’s he supposed to let them think? That they can actually boss him around? There are other streets to drive down if they wanna pass him so bad. 

They can’t just reverse into incoming traffic!

Where is the traffic? And who told them to drive a car anyway? It’s after noon on a Sunday; anyone who doesn’t sleep in on Sundays needs to reevaluate their life choices. 

Why are you making this harder than it has to be, Gin-san? 

Well, why not! These cuff-happy gangsters have been terrorizing the streets with their money-mongering ways for far too long. Someone’s gotta nip it in the bud early on; cut it off at the root, so to speak. No one would have had to deal with COV*D-XX if people had just listened to that simple piece of adv—

Another honk?! That's some nerve! That's some serious thick skin for some recyclable character designs!

That’s it. Gin-san’s in a fighting mood now. He’ll knock these closet gangsters off their mountain of yen so hard he’ll start an avalanche and he’ll be rich for life—and all while blowing off some steam. 

Something good is coming his way, finally. Gintoki feels a truly terrible smile crawling onto his face as he cracks his knuckles and beelines for the driver’s side, fully intending to throw hands with the first NPC that steps out of the car. 

The door opens.

It’s not an NPC. Of course not. 

“Heh, look who it is. Skipping out on work again, Soichirou-kun?” 

“Takes one to know one, danna. That says more about you than it does about me.” Always so quick, this one. It’d be impressive if the little shit wasn’t so annoying. “Anyway, should you really be walking around so leisurely? There’s a cat that needs rescuing somewhere, you know.” 

“Oi, cut me some slack here. I just saved the world again, y’know? Twice. For free.” He sticks a pinky in his ear, probes around until he finds the little itchy piece of earwax that’s been driving him insane all day, and flicks it towards the car. “I did you tax robbers’ jobs for you. You should be compensating me for my service to the community.” 

“You also caused trillions of dollars’ worth in property damage. I don’t know if you know, but that’s a maximum fine of three million yen. I wouldn’t be too quick to credit myself if I were you.”

Seriously?! Are they really holding that against him?! Why are they holding that against him? Why can’t this be like other shonen anime where the property damage just gets dealt with in the background and everything is fixed with one scene change? This is the new era! This is the part where the police are supposed to let meaningless details like property damage slide! Don’t they know how hard it is to animate a final battle without some destruction?! 

“Anyway,” the sadist prince continues, like he didn’t just casually threaten a law-abiding citizen with financial ruin, “if you’re not busy, then I have a job for you. Call it a request, if you want.”

Hmm. Hmmmmmm. 

A request, eh? From Soichirou-kun? Or the Shinsengumi? He might have just lost in pachinko, but that doesn’t mean he’ll take the first job that comes his way. He has standards, and pride. “Uh huh. And it’s totally legal, right? You’re not using Gin-san to exploit any loopholes, are you? That’s against rule 472 in your code.” 

“Danna, we don’t have 472 rules in the Code.” 

Who cares! 47, 472, it's all the same give or take a decimal space. He'd have thought the people robbing civilians of their tax money would know how to do basic arithmetic, but apparently he was wrong. "Whatever. So what's it this time, huh? Lost your gorilla again? Just so you know, we charge extra for lost animals. Feel free to send a c—"

Click. 

No, ‘check.’ That’s supposed to say ‘check.’ Why is there even a click anyway? Nothing should be clicking here, unless…?? Unless— 

Gintoki looks down—at the cuffs on his wrists, and then at Okita, watching him with a perfectly cherubic face. Huh? He shakes his wrists; the cuffs shake with him, gleaming in the sun. What? Wait a minute. “Hey, Okita-kun. This is just a joke, right? This is just your idea of a funny joke, right?”

“Nope. This is exactly what it looks like.” ...Eh? “Danna—or should I say, Sakata Gintoki—you’re under arrest.” Eh?! “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, you have the right to an attorney, and all that stuff. With all that in mind,” Okita’s expression is positively gleeful, “you can’t escape us. So please step into the car and come quietly.”

Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?!

Arrrgggghhhhh. Arrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhh. Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!

How did things end up this way?!

What about the forecast? Sunny skies and shit! Did Ketsuno Ana lie to him after all? No no no, there's no way. Impossible. Ketsuno Ana is an angel sent from the heavens to guide lost souls home through the power of her smile broadcasted through a second-hand television! There's no way she would ever do this to him!

"Okita-kunnnnnnn! Oi, Okita-kunnnnnnnnnnn! What's the meaning of this?!" That brat really thinks he's stupid, huh. He knows that's a one-way mirror and he knows for a fact that the little sadist is most definitely on the other side! Gin-san wasn't born last night, damnit! "This is foul play! Unfair advantage! Why do you get to see and hear me but I don't get to see or hear you? You better come out, you know! I'm gonna start singing the Doraem*n song if you don't, you know?! Nobody wants thatーnot even this voice actor's mother!"

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. He’s screaming at his own reflection. 

This little punk is trying to make him beg. 

"Fine then! Be that way! But you started this, got it? Whatever happens next is on you, got it? I'm gonna do it, Soichirou-kun! I'm gonna start singing now! De-de-de de-de-de de-de-de dー"

The door opens and in walks the source of all his problems today. “You’re breaking the law right now, you know,” it says. “No off-key singing anywhere on the premises. That’s rule 20 in the Code.”  

“Who cares!” And oi, that rule seems super targeted! “What’s with this, huh? You bored or something? Go play video games instead of randomly arresting innocent law-abiding citizens for no reason!”

“I would never do such a thing.” Like hell you wouldn’t! You literally did it just one section break ago! “I said it was a job, didn’t I? Think of those Amanto movies where they arrest someone to hire him without drawing attention.”

“Why are you letting yourself be inspired by such pathetic movies?! Just ask me normally! Geez,” Gintoki grouses. Okita motions toward his cuffs and he shoves his wrists forward hard enough to rattle the table. Hopefully it hits this little brat in the gut the way he deserves. “Cops sure do have a lot of free time these days. Does that moronic superior of yours know about this little stunt you’re pulling?”

“Who knows? At any rate, I’m sure he wouldn’t blame me for taking in such a suspicious guy.” Hey. Hey now. Who’s actually the suspicious one here? “Actually, funny that you mention him; that moronic superior is the whole reason you’re here. The universe sure does move in interesting ways, don’t you think?” 

….Sure. Yeah. Interesting is definitely the word Gintoki would use to describe it. 

His day’s about to get a whole lot worse, isn’t it.

“That guy’s picked up some interesting habits recently,” Okita continues. “For as long as I’ve known him, he barely rests and does nothing but work even after the workday’s over. But lately, he’s taken to going out in casual clothes and coming back in the morning smelling of alcohol. And apparently, according to Kondou-san, last week he went ahead and requested a day off next month.”

Well, Gintoki knows about all that, minus the last part. But Soichirou-kun doesn’t need to know that. “So Mr Demon Vice Chief’s finally gone out and gotten a life, huh? The times really have changed.”

"That's what I thought too. Now it looks like he'll have to die from alcohol poisoning rather than overwork like I originally planned." That's premeditated murder. A cop just confessed to premeditated murder. Someone arrest this danger to society. "But for an open book like him, Hijikata-san's been pretty difficult to read lately. It's rare for that guy to request days off, even if he's sick or injured. When he goes out, he doesn't tell anyone where he's going or who he's meeting. When he comes back, he doesn't say anything about it. It's almost like he's hiding something." 

Okita turns towards him. For a guy with such an apathetic face, he has a real intense stare. “You two get along well, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it. Would you happen to know anything, danna?”

Gintoki shoves a finger up his nostril and considers. 

Does he know anything? Well, officially—no. He knows nothing. What goes on in the hovels these closet gangsters call the barracks is none of his business and besides Gin-san’s been too busy doing his job to hang around and inhale some chain-smoking idiot’s secondhand smoke.  

Unofficially, though—if he’s figured this out, and if he’s figured it out right, then yeah. Gintoki knows exactly what that chain-smoking idiot’s been up to these recent, recent weeks. 

What he and Hijikata have got going is pretty simple, all things considered; they meet up for drinks at some predetermined time and place, bicker till they're kicked out, rinse repeat, and keep rinse-repeating until a) they sober up and go their separate ways, or b) they sober up enough to start a completely different kind of bickering altogether, either at his placeーprovided the kids aren't thereーor a room in some seedy hotel. They never really talked about it, but at some point they just kinda silently agreed to keep their Thing to themselves and that's the way it's been ever since. 

But that's off the record, and completely irrelevant at this point in time. 

"Why would I? What that moron does in his free time has nothing to do with me." Which is true! Gintoki's got no clue whether Hijikata is actively hiding their Thing or not, but if he is, he can't blame the dude; Jimmy, the gorilla, and this punk sitting across from him are all pains in the ass to deal with for him and he's not even the one who has to see their mugs everyday. He doesn't really wanna think about how much more annoying they'll be if they ever find out. "If he's out having a good time, all the more hope for removing that stick up his ass." 

Okita hums, noncommittal. He keeps staring. Something itches in the far back of Gintoki's nostril; he shoves his finger in deeper, scratches it, and wipes his finger on his pants. Today's laundry day anyway. "So what I'm hearing is that you want me to spy on him."

Maybe saying that activates some kind of sadist factory reset, because that's what gets Okita back to normal, of all things. His stare loses its edge, the indifference settles back into his expression, and he sits back in his chair, stretching till his spine pops.

“Pretty much.” Sheesh. No shame whatsoever, this kid. “Well, it’s basically reconnaissance—and my personal insurance. There’s a bet going around the squad captains that the bastard is seeing someone and I don’t intend to lose.” This guy really does have way too much free time, damnit! What the hell!

"Geez. And just when I thought I was free of you tax robbers. But you lot can’t go a month without dragging me into another one of your messes, can you?”

“I said it earlier, didn’t I? You can’t escape us.” Oi, would you mind not looking so happy when you say something creepy like that? “Don’t worry, though; I’ll reimburse you handsomely for this. It’s only fair, considering the favor you’re doing me.”

Why does that last part sound so ominous? Why does Gintoki get the feeling that he’s in for a bad time soon?

…Ugh, whatever. He’s not in the mood to think about that now. He’ll do it later when he’s not sticky, prickly, and covered in his own grime. What did Soichirou-kun say just now? Oh yeah. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Soichirou-kun. Surveillance services don’t come cheap, you know.” He definitely left a sweaty imprint of his ass on the seat when he stood up just now, didn't he? Well, it should be fine. Ass prints don’t show on metal chairs and neither do sweaty ass prints, probably. Gintoki leaves behind the scene of his crime and sidesteps Okita on the way to the door. He’s turning the handle and one step closer to freedom when he remembers something crucial. 

“Hey, Soichirou-kun. Do you think he’s seeing someone?”

It’s a valid question. A valid, reasonable, and perfectly innocent question that’s well within his rights to ask. So what if he’s curious, huh? He needs to know as much as possible for work purposes, obviously!

Okita doesn’t indulge him. He just smiles, and raises alllll the hairs on the back of Gintoki’s neck. “Good luck, danna. You’ll need it.”

…Yeah. That’s not terrifying at all. Of course not. 

Gin-san’s just gonna stick to where the lights are on his way out, just to be safe. 

“Danna, the exit’s the other way.”

“Shut up! I definitely knew that! Gin-san was just testing you!”

He’s sitting in his foyer taking off his boots when he realizes. 

Soichirou-kun arresting him. Soichirou-kun hiring him to, what—spy on the idiot he sees like three or five times a week? The one he’ll probably run into again sometime in the future? For a bet?! He yanks off his boot so hard he knees himself in the face and knocks himself backwards into the living room; instead of seeing stars, it’s that sadist punk’s smile, leering down at him. Good luck, danna. You’ll need it.

Instant Regret smashes him in the gut, right before mortification smashes him over the head with a cinderblock. 

Fuck. 

Fuck!

Why did he take this job?!

What was he thinking? How far has he fallen since the anime ended?? That brat, going to him for a job instead of the thousands of NPCs he's surrounded with on the daily? He's never done that before! He has no reason to do that! And all that talk about a favor? Shady as hell! Good ol' Soichirou-kun is clearly up to something and Gintoki fell for it hook, line, and sinker! 

And then the job. Never mind that it's been years since he's engaged in anything remotely related to covert ops, never mind that he's voluntarily put himself on the same level as that gorilla stalkerーhow exactly is he supposed to spy on a guy if he's literally going to be right next to the guy during the time period in which the guy is supposed to be spied on? He's the only one Hijikata has been seeing! He's literally going to be spying on himself! And when Soichirou-kun sends Jimmy-kun to secretly spy on him like Gintoki already knows he will, then it's doubly incriminating! This whole thing is ridiculous from start to finish!

This sucks. Goddamnit, this sucks! Why is this stupid request literally the hardest job he's ever taken? There's a way out of this, right? There's still a light at the end of this tunnel, right? Maybeーno wait, backing out of a job he already accepted especially from that little shit will give that little shit ideasーand it's not like he can go hunt Hijikata down and tell exactly what kind of shenanigans his sadist brat is up to became Jimmy-kun is probably on the loose alreadyーbut then what else can he doーhow did he screw himself over so thoroughly that he has no way out of it!

He needs a time machine. Or another Frozen Time arc. Actually, why stop there? Hit him with another amnesia arc. No really, hit him—the amnesia will do the rest, reusable plot-lines be damned, and then he won’t have to think about stupid things about stupid life decisions made in the stupid, literal heat of the moment. It’s a good plan. In fact, it’s a solid plan—or it would be if there was anyone around to carry it out! Seriously, where the hell is everyone?? Where’s Kagura? Or that old hag? Hell, where the fuck is Zura, even? Isn’t that guy always on standby, with a bomb? What’s the point in having so many violent people in his life if none of them show up to enact bodily harm on him the moment it counts?! 

And where are all the conveniently timed arcs when he needs them, huh? How dare they just up and abandon him in his time of need! Gintama might be over and the Class 3Z Ginpachi-sensei series might be getting an anime adaptation, but Gintoki’s still the main character of this anime, damnit!

What a pain. For fuck’s sake, what a seriously annoying pain.

Just had to be him, didn’t it—like he’s not the one constantly saddled with the most outrageous plot lines, like he’s not the one always dragged into the stupid shenanigans everyone else decides to make his problem. Doesn’t he have enough bullshit in his life to deal with already? Apparently not. Apparently he’s been the designated dumpsite for universal bullshit all this time and he doesn’t qualify for the free No-Bullshit passes they hand out once a month to other unlucky bastards. 

Ohhhh nooo. Great. And now he’s being haunted by a mascot no one remembers. Makoto may have shot that little girl on accident, but maybe he still felt his sins crawling on his back after all that time. Maybe Makoto is haunted by the ghosts of his own terrible life decisions. Maybe he is Makoto. Ohhhhh nooooooo. Now I’ve done it. Now I’ve gone and done it. 

He groans. 

The sudden weight on the back of his head promptly smashes him face-first into the floor. 

“Why are you on the floor, Gin-chan? Don’t you know bacteria will multiply if there’s trash lying around?”

Don’t call me trash, goddamnit! Wait—Kagura? Sadaharu too? Oh good. 

“Kagura—“ He sounds like a dying whale, a dying whale with splinters in his face that he’d definitely pick out if not for the weight of one giant dog squeezing all the air out of his lungs, but she can still understand him, right? There can’t be that many other words with ka-gu-ra all strung together in that order. Now for the most important part: “Hit me.”

“Huh? Spit me?” Ow ow OW that’s his head HIS HEAD gah this brat is doing this on purpose “Speak up, Gin-chan, I can’t hear you.”

And whose fault is that, huh?! Running people over the second you get home, am I a pancake to you or what? is what he wants to say to that, but with today’s luck, she might be feeling petty enough to really turn him into a pancake. Actually, scratch that, she might be feeling petty enough to turn him into human mochi by way of pile-driving him into the floor on repeat, which will hurt and also isn't the amnesia-inducing bodily harm he's looking for. So instead of saying any of that out loud, he half-claws, half-scrabbles at the floor until he pulls himself an inch out from under Sadaharu, lifts his head from the crater in the floor, and looks up. 

“Hit me. You’re still pissed at me about something I did, right? That one thing I did that time all those years ago? Well, Gin-san’s owning up to it now. Just aim for my head and don’t m—“

“Welcome back.” Shinpachi!!! Enough already, damnit! Let Kagura send me to the hospital in peace! “Geez, Gin-san, drunk again? At least get off the floor, you’ll collect dust if you stay down there.”

“It’s too late for him, Shinpachi. He’s been collecting dust for years.” Hey, Kagura-chan? What exactly do you mean by that? “No one ever noticed because everyone thought it was his official character design, but Papi always said dust attracts more dust, so maybe Gin-chan has a dusty personality.” Why would you listen to anything that baldy says about anything? That damn cue ball knows nothing! And what the hell is a ‘dusty personality’ supposed to be?

“Well, Gin-san does leave his stuff everywhere, so I guess that’s true enough.” Pattsuan? Et tu, Pattsuan? “And aneue once said that his hair looked like a clump of dust gathering in the corner. Or was it lint? Anyway, something easy to sweep up and dump in the garbage.” So in the end, this is about my hair?!

Oiii!!! What is this? What happened while he was gone? How did these brats get even more condescending than they already were? Gin-san's asking for physical damage, but all he's getting is emotional damage instead! 

To hell with this. He'll do it himself. 

He smashes his face back into the floor. Repeatedly. Shinpachi starts screeching something about major brain trauma, as if Gintoki hasn't been Sadaharu's chew toy ever since that mutt first appeared, but it's not like he didn't see that coming. That's the problem with all virgin otakus these days: the lack of an outside perspective. Really, Shinpachi should be thanking him for his live demonstration on the durability of a human skull, and thanking him even more for the head-banging beat Gin-san's providing for him; maybe one day he'll consider upgrading from president of Otsu's official fan club to Otsu's music producer, and maybe then all of his fanboying will amount to something. 

That's a big maybe, though. Way too big and also too far into the future for him to even begin thinking about right now. Will he even remember this once the amnesia gets him? Probably not. His vision’s going kinda red. Oh well. Producer Pattsuan, it was nice knowing you while you lasted. I'll remember you in the afterlife. 

"Gin-san! What's gotten into you?!" Shinpachi grabs one of his arms and pulls him off the floor. "Are you trying to give yourself brain damage? We don't have money for hospital bills right now!"

Kagura grabs his other arm and, with Shinpachi, helps himーshoves himーagainst the couch. "Gin-chan, actions have consequences, yes? Don't think the hospital is going to save you from whatever you did."

"I didn't do anything!" he bellows. He didn't! Not in the way they're thinking, at least, so why are they looking at him like that? Why are they giving him the side-eye like he's the shadiest troublemaker on the block? "Really! I just got a job!"

"Well, why didn't you say that to begin with?" 

"I don't know, Pattsuan. Why are you so hell-bent on keeping up the straight man schtick? Who are you even narrating for anyway? The anime's over already. I know it's hard, but there's a whole world outside your glasses if you learn to just take a look."

"Well, why didn't you say that to begin with?" That really got to him, didn't it. He's acting like the last paragraph didn't happen. He's ignoring it when all he's actually doing is ignoring his own inability to ignore anything anyone says about him, ever. Oh, Pattsuan, you've still got so much to learn. "What kind of a job is it?"

"The kind that glasses and gluttons would be useless in." Sadaharu bites his head. Gintoki will get him back for that one day; no one bites his iconic perm repeatedly and gets away with it. Just you wait, Sadaharu; the day I bite back, it's all over for you. "For me, myself, and I. My job, got it?"

"Got it. Then you can pay for what you did to my floor. I'll take it out of your rent." 

Oh, hell.

"Rent, rent, rent. Is that the only word you can say, old hag!" 

"I'll say it as many times as I have to if that’s the only way to get it through your stupid curly head!" Otose snaps. "Pay up this and last month's rent even if you have to sell your kidneys!"

The nerve of her! Asking not once but twice in a single day when she's standing there polluting the air in here with her disgusting tobacco vapors! "I already told you I don't have it! Old ladies shouldn't care so much about money! Think about your blood pressureーand more importantly, think about that thing you're smoking! Rent should be free if you're gonna give us both lung cancer!" 

"Now, now, let's all settle down, okay?" Shinpachi holds up his hands, placating, like they haven't all seen what he'll do to a person if they say anything vaguely insulting about Otsu's music. "If it's a job just for Gin-san, then whoever gave him the job must be paying enough to cover the rent, right?"

Exactly! Wait, noーhousehold expenses. Enough to cover household expenses. Kagura steamrolls over him right when he's about to make this correction. "If it's a job just for Gin-chan, the money's as good as gone," she says, little finger wedged deep in her nostril. "But Gin-chan, why is it just for you?"

Oh no.

"Good question." Otose turns her beady eyes on him with a very smug smirk. "I'd like to know that too."

Old hag!!!! Stop having so much fun, damnit! You're supposed to be on my side!

"Well, it's, uh, I, well, you knowー"

"Is it a job only you can do? It'd be easier with me and Shinpachi there, yes? Then how come we can't come? Is it illegal? Are you hiding something? You've never been weird about work before. Who gave you this job anyway? Are you going around talking to suspicious people? Why? And why are you taking jobs from them? Didn't Mami always tell you not to talk to random strangers? This is why you got demoted, Gin-chan. No self-respecting main character would go out and—"

"How stupid do you think I am?! It wasn't some random stranger!" That's incriminating enough on its own, but his ears are burning, his dignity is stinging, his mouth is running faster than his brain, and oh no oh shit the words aren't stopping "—it was Oki—"

Shut the fuck up! his mind screeches, but it's too late. Sadaharu yaps. Otose lifts one unimpressed eyebrow. Shinpachi wrinkles his brow and is in the middle of saying, "Why would you take any kind of job from Okita-san?" when the pair of feet hurtling towards Gintoki's face smashes him back into the floorboards. 

"You permy bastard!" Kagura roars, close and loud enough to burst his eardrums. "Talking to that good-for-nothing hellspawn! You deserve everything you get!"

Her fist flies towards his face. The pair of glasses in the background sprouts arms to wave at them frantically, yelling for them to stop. That amnesia better be worth it. 

He doesn’t wake up in the hospital because of course he doesn’t. 

He wakes up on the floor still, covered with a blanket, and any ounce of gratitude for being covered immediately dies when the melon-sized lump on his head starts throbbing with the painfully humiliating memory of everything up till the point Kagura slugged him into the void—specifically, his latest Terrible, Not Good, Very Fucking Stupid decision. This is all on him, damnit, he's known that Soichirou prick for too long that even being sticky, prickly, and covered in his own grime is no excuse for letting himself be pulled into that brat's shenanigans. 

"I need a time machine," he says out loud to the ceiling. Nothing happens. 

He's gonna finish off Ketsuno Ana's ex-husband for sure. 

The hemorrhoids ninja stealing the last copy of JUMP from right under his nose at the convenience store the next day is the last fucking straw. 

"Whoa." Zenzou dodges his punch, like an asshole. His fist hits the shelf instead and Zenzou catches the magazines that fall without looking, like an even bigger asshole. "Moody today, huh? Sorry, but looks like I was faster this time. Maybe one day you'll beat me."

"Sure. Into a pulp, that is." Gintoki kicks at him again, but his foot connects with air. Why can't this damn ninja just stay still, damnit. Does he even actually have hemorrhoids? They sure do disappear for him when it's convenient! Gintoki hopes he enjoys that JUMP. He hopes he enjoys it so much someone comes and spoils it for him at the best part so he can't enjoy it anymore. 

"I haven't seen you this worked up since your five-way drinking intervention. Heh." Zenzou snorts. "Good times." 

Really bold move for someone within kicking range. Sticking range. Whatever. He won't be laughing once Gintoki shoves a pointy object up his ass. The broom in the corner? But he has Lake Touya right here. Maybe he'll do it old-school: nice and personal with a boot up his ass and the tip wedged into the crack. As the shoe fits, don't they say? But then Zenzou stops snickering and straightens, eyeing him through his stupid hair. "Unless....? Don't tell meー"

"No, dumbass!" Who does this guy think he is, friggin' Zura?! "Fuck's sake! Let it die! The Scandal arc was ages ago!" 

"No way, you should have seen your face back then. If it were me in that situation, you'd never let me forget." Freaking rude! Gin-san doesn't need to be told off by a guy who injects cream up his ass four times a day! "Anyway, you've just given yourself away. So which lady is it this time, eh? Not one of my fuglies, I hope."

"I said I didn't wake up with anybody! Listen when people talk!" And it's not even a lady that's involved this time, damnit! "Why the hell are you making me out to be a sleazebag, huh? You guys put me in that situation! That's no different from giving a suspicious package to an innocent civilian in the train station and then pointing fingers at him for having a suspicious package! Maybe the civilian didn't know what was inside the package, or maybe he didn't care! Maybe he just wanted to get home and watch reruns of his favorite show! Maybe people should start blaming the guy who carried that suspicious package into the train station instead of the guy that got mixed into a mess that had nothing to do with him in the first place!"

“Then what’s the problem?” The asshole takes Gintoki’s rightful JUMP to the counter, and Gintoki has no choice but to follow. “You’re not coming to me for help on your hands and knees, and it doesn’t look like you’ve drunk-married Sarutobi, so whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

“Don’t put such a horrifying scenario in my head, damnit!” That woman’s antics make Soichirou’s little stunt look tame! There’s nothing tame about it! Or him! “And ‘help’? All you did was make things worse!”

“Hey, I don’t ever recall saying I was an expert. Taking my advice was all on you.” The humidity presses down on him the second they walk out, like a sweaty, too-tight piggy-back ride on his back—the kind Kagura almost broke his back with multiple times when she decided she didn't want to walk in the heat and jumped on him without warning. “Whelp,” Zenzou’s saying, “the least I can do is listen,” but Gintoki barely pays attention over the fresh sweat prickling in all his orifices. It’s not fair that this stupid ninja gets to stay cucumber-cool while Gin-san becomes a human popsicle! It’s not! “So? What’s the matter this time?” 

None of your business! It's not! His fuck-ups are no one's business but his own and they don't have to be aired out like dirty laundry every frickin' time they happen just because people find the shit he gets into entertー

Something changes in the air, so small anyone else would miss it, like being in a crowded room and hearing a mosquito. He wipes irritably at the sweat dripping into his eyes without permission and just barely catches someone ducking behind the trash can in the next alley over. Just Jimmy then. Okay. 

Wait. Jimmy?!

That friggin' sadist! Exactly how much time does that little prick have on his hands? Seriously! Siccing Jimmy on him in his convenience store haven! Is nothing sacred anymore? Is nowhere safe?

Ahh fuck, ahh shit, now that it's come to this, what choice does he have? If the alternative is Jimmy blabbing to Okita and Okita blabbing to Hijikata while twisting the facts because he's a little shit, and Hijikata coming to all the wrong conclusions about all of thisーnot that Gintoki finds him intimidating at all, but if him backing down now means that V-banged bastard is gonna come after him threatening seppuku or laughing at him because he made the mistake of giving Soichirou-kun the time of dayー

"Right, I'll be going then." Gintoki jerks, and gets back enough presence of mind to grab Zenzou's scarf before he jumps anywhere. "Oi, where the hell are you going? What happened to listening to me?!"

"Well, you were taking forever and I didn't wanna spend the next ten minutes staring at your ugly mug, so." 

Hey, that's rude as hell! "You should see me in 3D!" Wait, he should have said the first part. Damnit, whatever! "If you're not gonna do that, at least give me the JUMP for wasting my time! Do you know how early Gin-san had to get up for that thing? That's the last copy!"

"You're the one wasting time here. And I'll applaud you for being prepared, but you're not as prepared as me: I camped out on the roof until the store opened. So this is my JUMP." Zenzou's scarf comes loose in his hand, and then a cloud of dust replaces him. "Go buy some Akamaru JUMP or something, and maybe I'll let you borrow this one eventually."

He hops onto the roof and disappears over the edge. Sweat drips into Gintoki's eyes. 

His last nerve snaps. 

"Don't give me that craaaaaaaaaaap!!!!" What was with that condescending tone? And why's Gintoki still holding his dumb scarf? He throws it on the ground and shoves a finger in the direction of the roof. "Let me borrow?? That was mine! My fingers were already on it! Pull your head out of your ass and get a clue, asshole! You can't lend something that you stole from other people! Didn't your mother ever teach you that?!"

He stomps on the scarf, repeatedly. That's for JUMP. That's for pissing him off. That's for everything he had to go through in the Scandal arc! Why are people staring, huh? They should be staring at something else! Like the asshole who took his JUMP! Are they really just gonna stand around and condone public thievery in broad daylight?! 

Forget the boot, he's going for all three. The next time he sees that damn ninja, he's going to skewer him with a broom. And then Lake Touya. And then his boot. He's gonna make sure Zenzou's ancestors can feel it. And then he's going to find a copy of Akamaru JUMP and shove that up his ass too.

But he's gonna take care of that peeping tom lurking in the background first.

He stomps over to the trash can in the next alley and kicks it over. Jimmy shrieks louder than the sound of the can rattling down the alley. "AHHHHHHHHーah? Oh, d-danna, hello, I didn't, er. I didn't see you there. Haha. Ha."

"Mhm. Sure, Jimmy-kun." It's Yamazaki, Jimmy says, which is just weird. Who the hell's Yamazaki? All Gintoki sees here is Jimmy. "And those are definitely not binoculars you're hiding behind your back, right? You definitely haven't been sitting here this whole time watching me, right?"

Jimmy laughs. He sounds nervous. There's the telltale scraping of something hard and metallic against the wall and he's sweating even though he was a cyborg last time Gintoki checked.

He knew it. He knew it.

Goddamn that frickin' Okita kid.

"Sadists, stalkers, and shitheads. Is that what you hoodlum cops are now? You lot really are way too carefree." Man, look at him sweat; Gin-san's only crouched in front of him. He's starting to understand exactly why that sadist and that chain-smoking idiot like messing with him so much, and it'd be funny any other time, rather than this time. He's hot, and sweaty, and pissed as hell, damnit. He feels like a rice cooker about to pop off, damnit! "I'm only gonna say this once, Jimmy-kun: I'm onto you. I know exactly what you're doing. I know exactly who's got you camped out in sketchy alleys following an innocent civilian like some kinda pervert. Gin-san's not an idiot, you know? So just to be extra clear: if Okita-kun hears anything about what you've seen todayーif I hear from him that he's heard anything about you've seen todayーnot even your jet-engine boosters will save you, got it? I know a guy. He's gonna power you down and take them out, and he's gonna make you into a soy sauce machine. Your life is going to be dark, and salty, just like soy sauce. All you’re gonna be good for is eggs. And that’s before Iー”

"What the hell are you doing, Yorozuya?"

...Why isn't he surprised. No really, why isn't he surprised. When did it get to this point, huh? When did he get so in-sync with that V-banged bastard that they're just guaranteed to run into each other now even when neither of them plan it? It's stupid. All of this is stupid. "Oh," he says, flat. He makes sure Hijikata's watching when he sticks a pinky up one nostril. "It's you." 

The vein in Hijikata's temple ticks. "Yeah, it's me. Got a problem with that, asshole?" 

Well geez, look who else is in a mood! What's his excuse, mayo deficiency? Tobacco withdrawal? Bad hair day? Anyway, the way he's making it everyone else's problem is annoying. It's pissing Gintoki off. The uniform is also pissing him off. How's he wearing long sleeves in this heat? Why is he doing that? At least take off the jacket, damnit, you'll get heat stroke at this rate and then you're gonna get even more annoying! "Actually yeah. Yeah, I got a problem. Can't you read the mood, tax thief? I've got business with Jimmy-kun here and I don't need some guy with a bad attitude butting in and interrupting me." 

"Well, you're going to have to wait, because this guy ran off when he was supposed to be patrolling, which makes this my business, which makes you the one interrupting. Scram and go play pachinko or something." 

Gintoki flicks the booger off his pinky. It lands on Hijikata's jacket like it was always meant to go there.

Hijikata's hands lunge for his collar like the guy's been waiting for an excuse. "You shithead!" he bellows.  “What the hell was that for?!" 

Definitely not tobacco withdrawal then, man his breath stinks. Gintoki would love to get away from it, he really would, but then that means he has to let go of the death-grip he has on Hijikata's stupid sweaty bangs, and there's no way he's just gonna let this money-mongering cop win. "You think I was aiming for you? You think I did that on purpose? That booger flew towards you all on its own! I just helped it go home!"

"Boogers don't have homes outside the nose, stupid! You were totally aiming for me from the start!"

"How do you know that, huh? Were you the booger? Were you friends with it? Did you ever stop to think that maybe it was trying to tell you something like 'Gin-san had business with Jimmy first'? Huhhhhhhh?"

"As if a booger would say that! You're making that up! Commit seppuku to atone!"

Gintoki lets go of Hijikata's dumb hair, grabs his ear, opens his mouth to holler something about being a certified booger expert, and then a wave of cold water smacks him straight in the face. 

"Er, excuse me, you two." Gintoki wipes his eyes and squints. An old guy with a bucket. That was definitely week-old dish water he just threw at them, wasn't it. "Could the two of you keep it down? It's too hot for this kind of quarreling. Any more of that and you'll both collapse, wouldn't that be a shame?"

Hijikata wipes his face. Other than being soaked, he looks kinda cranky, which is normal for a guy that gets up on the wrong side of the bed everyday, and his eyebrows are doing that thing they always do when he's really, really annoyed, but mostly he just looks tired. Not more than Gintoki is of all the bullshit everyone's putting him through, but pretty damn close. 

Maybe the old guy has a point. 

"Geez," Hijikata grouses. "Why did I have to run into you today? It's too damn hot to be dealing with you."

"Did you forget, Mr Vice Chief? You're the one that came over and started making a scene." At least the idiot's taking off his jacket. The shitty cravat's still on, and Hijikata hasn't rolled up his sleeves like any other sane person, but Gintoki doesn't feel like scratching off his own skin when he's just looking at Hijikata anymore. "And now neither of us can finish business with Jimmy. What do you have to say to that, huh?"

"If you hadn't launched a fucking boogerー"

"Let that go already! I said I was helping it go home!"

"What the hell does that even mean?!"

"Figure that out yourself, dumbass!"

Ahh geez, it really is way too hot for this. Gin-san feels lightheaded already, and even the tree they're under doesn't do a thing for this humidity. He doesn't feel like moving, though. Maybe if he just sits here and ignores the sun, it'll take the hint and go bother someone else who cares enough to complain. He shuts his eyes and leans back against the park bench; after a while, he feels Hijikata sit down too. 

...How long has it been since they've just sat down like this, during the day? Hijikata's busy as always, and for a while Yorozuya Gin-chan was too; thirteen months is long, but not long enough to get over something like the terminal fight that ripped apart the city for the second time, and if they weren't rebuilding roofs and houses, they were helping everyone else rebuild their lives. They haven't even bumped into each other during the day that much, recently.

Come to think of it, it's been a while since they've gone out in the evening too. What, eight days? Little more than a week. 

Okay fine, so what if he's gotten used to having this shitty cop around all the time? They've shit in the same stall and in each other's bodies, they've drunk together, they've eaten each other's food, and they fight all the time, with and beside each other. Anyone would get used to it after that! It's not that weird to feel a kind of way after eight days of not seeing him!

"So," Hijikata starts. Gintoki almost jumps, because what the hell, warn a guy before he assumes you're reading his mind. "What did you want with Yamazaki?"

Well, shit. 

“Uhh, you know, because of that. He was Jimmy-ing all over the place when I wasn’t in the mood to be Jimmy-ed at, y’know? So I just gave him a friendly reminder that people don’t appreciate a Jimmy Jimmy-ing at them when they’re just trying to make it through the day bullshit-free for once.” 

“Uh huh. And saying you were gonna turn him into soy sauce is a totally friendly thing to say, right?” 

“No no no, I said a soy sauce machine. And that’s only if he decides to keep being a Jimmy.” Which is probably gonna happen. All the more reason for Gintoki to get this idea patented; he’ll call it the Anti-Jimmy Flavor Enhancer. He’s gonna find investors on Sh*rk T*nk and it’s gonna sell out everywhere it’s sold in five minutes, tops. The old hag will never nag him for rent again and he’ll be able to afford wagyu steak for the rest of his life. Clearly this is a great business plan and there’s no possible way it can fail. 

That being said, if he heard that much, then what else did he hear? How long was he just lurking like a weirdo before saying something? Shit, maybe he heard Gintoki namedrop. Maybe he’s onto him. Maybe Jimmy’s already hightailed it back to the barracks and Soichirou already knows, shit! “See? Friendly. I was being totally friendly.”

Hijikata scoffs, bastard that he is. “That’s funny,” he says, lighting a new cigarette, “because from where I was standing, it looks like you were terrorizing an officer. What do you have to say about that, huh?”

Spoken like a true type * man. Gin-san doesn’t need to hear this slander from the guy who wanted to invest 300 million in mayonnaise, of all things. “Hijikata-kun, you’ll never get anywhere in life if you keep up that kind of mindset, you know? Having a negative attitude is the same as having a dirty house; everything you see is garbage. At that point, you might as well become a madao and live in a cardboard box.” Hijikata’s elbow rams into his ribs, very un-softly. Is everything just violence to this guy? That was totally uncalled for! “Bastard, appreciate the wisdom I’m giving you! Do you want to wear sunglasses for the rest of your life? Don’t be such an Oogushi-kun, Oogushi-kun!”

“Why do you keep spouting shit that makes no sense?!” Immediately Hijikata pinches the bridge of his nose, and the furrow in his brow is so deep Gintoki actually wonders which unlucky bum at the Shitstaingumi pissed him off for the rest of the day. Then he stands up and swings his coat over his shoulder. “To hell with this. I’m going home.” 

“Oi, oi, don’t be so hasty, Mr Vice Chief.” Gintoki stands up too and puts an arm around his shoulders. If Hijikata has anything to say about that, he doesn’t say it. He’s sure as hell showing it, though. “I just gave you some good life advice for free, you know? Now’s the part where we go to a bar and you buy me drinks to thank me for all my kindness.”

And for the, uh, for that other thing. But that’s neither here nor there, and what this walking incarnation of high blood pressure doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Fine, Okita-kun, have it your way. I’ll beat you at your own game so hard, your descendants are gonna be born with an innate sense of crippling humiliation seven generations from now.

“What you say and what you mean are two completely different things,” Hijikata snaps, but he doesn’t bother trying to shake off Gintoki’s arm. “And who said I was buying you anything? Quit saying whatever you want and expecting people to just follow up, bastard.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you already thinking about it?” Ha, got’em. God, his face is priceless. This guy is way too easy to read. Gintoki grins and leans closer. “So? How about it, tax thief?"

“I’m busy.”

“‘I’m busy.’” Hijikata tries to stomp on his foot. “Ah, come on! Take a deep breath and let loose the stick up your ass! How long’s it been since the last time?”

The thing Hijikata mutters under his breath sounds like not long enough, but for a guy who keeps complaining, he’s going along with this without putting up a fight, so Gintoki just ignores it. The disgusting smoke from that cancer stick he’s smoking is a little harder to ignore, though. “You just want me to pay!” 

He bats the smoke away. "No, I just want you to do your job as a civil servant! If my taxes are funding you, the least you could do is fund me back, right?"

"What kinda deluded logic is that?! You don't even pay taxes! Your body must be jealous over how flexible your mental gymnastics are." 

"Oh, you'd know all about how flexible I am, wouldn't you?" Gintoki waggles his eyebrows, right before the asshole jabs his fingers in his eyes. "Ow I can't see!" 

“That’s the point, idiot.” The nerve of him! Shaking Gin-san off like he’s a bug after dealing a critical hit and loading up on more lung cancer right after like it makes him look cool or something, who does he think he is? “Stop talking shit or I’ll arrest you for public indecency.”

“Arrest yourself for domestic violence first, asshat! Is it that hard to admit you’re happy to see me?!”

That’s really embarrassing to say, yeesh. It sounded way less embarrassing in his head, and he’s got half a mind to take it back, but it’s making this asshole reflect, so it doesn’t really matter. Is he reflecting? Gintoki has no idea. All he can see when he opens his eyes are blurs so he just stands there awkwardly, rubbing the water out of his eyes; he’s starting to think Hijikata just up and left him in the middle of the street when that moron snorts and takes him by the elbow. “Don’t kid around. As if anyone would be happy to see a leech like you.”

What a seriously rude guy. Gintoki’s definitely not happy about it or anything. He snorts, himself, and leans on him a little heavier. “Apologize again after buying second-rate alcohol and maybe I’ll consider accepting.”

“Don’t push your damn luck, Yorozuya.”

The sun's starting to go down by the time they get to that one izakaya they always go to. It hasn't been that long since they've started doing this like some kind of weird alcoholic foreplayーor has it? Does a month and a half of consistent weekly meetups count as long?ーbut it's been long enough that the barman recognizes them on sight and waves them over to two empty stools at the end of the counter. 

"A bottle of shochu, mizuwari-style," Gintoki tells him as they sit down. "And also a bottle of umeshu for the grumpy bastard here."

Figures the guy who inhales mayo like it's keeping him alive would like sour stuff. And yeah, he said sour; anyone who calls that stuff 'sweet' probably also thinks passion fruits are sweet, and those people are the same ones who go on to commit culinary crimes. Case in point: the grumpy bastard he ordered it for.

Said grumpy bastard's definitely in some kind of mood, though. Instead of being grateful, what he says instead is, "You're awfully comfortable ordering on someone else's dime, huh?"

"Fair's fair, Hijikata-kun."   

"Nothing about this is fair! So not only am I paying for your drinks, but I'm also paying for the one I didn't even order?"

"Think about it this way, tax thief. You like sour stuff, right? So since only idiots with V-bangs and sour personalities drink that stuff, you're helping it not go to waste. The more you drink of it, the more it’ll be put to use instead of staying back there to stink everything up." 

That’s a joke, but also not. He has no idea how Hijikata keeps the stuff down, but he's not that big of an asshole that he'd just not get something for the guy buying his drinks. That's only because he's buying his drinks though. Gin-san's not so dumb that he’s just gonna pass that up. "Practice being grateful sometimes, idiot. In fact, you can start right now. Say 'thank you for ordering me something, Gin-san.'"

"Like hell I will! You're obviously gonna use that to make me buy something else for you!"

Rats. Busted. "Uh, no I won't. You can't prove that."

"You're proving it yourself! Commitー"

"Yeah, yeah, seppuku to atone. Maybe later, okay? Geez." The barman comes back with the drinks, and Gintoki pours in Hijikata's cup first. "What's with you today, huh? I know having high blood pressure is one of your character's defining traits, but this is too much even for you."  

"See if you act any different after having the day I had," Hijikata mutters, to the guy who's had two godawful days in a row. Gintoki gets the petty urge to start something over it, but it looks like Hijikata's calming down, a little. At the very least, he doesn't seem like he's itching for a fight, when he picks up his cup. "Don't ask me why, but everyone keeps coming up and asking me who I'm going out with."

Oh. Oh, that's, that'sーvery relevant, sheesh. 

Talk about an unexpected opening.

"Poor Oogushi-kun. It must be so hard being popular." Hijikata shoots him a glare that's absolutely withering. Anyone else would be scared shitless. "So? What's the problem? Sounds to me like they're just happy their vice chief's finally getting a life." 

"That's exactly the problem. Now they're getting nosy and I can’t catch a fucking break.” 

Specifically meaning the pet gorilla and probably Hijikata’s cherry boy assistant, Gintoki’s guessing. Yep, he’s definitely with the tax thief on this one; it is kind of funny imagining them barging into Hijikata’s room dripping snot and tears over the fact that their vice chief is finally getting some, but there’s only so much snot-filled, teary nosiness people can tolerate, and Hijikata’s fuse is way shorter than the average person. It’s not pretty no matter how he looks at it. “Sougo’s involved somehow, I know he is,” Hijikata’s saying. “What I don’t get is why they care all of a sudden. Who cares if I’m going out? Everyone does it.”

“Well, can you blame them? You’ve had that whole ‘married to the Shinsengumi’ thing going on for so long, they don’t know anything else.” Everyone fell for it. Gintoki did too, right up till the moment he saw that chain-smoking bastard outside the gate of Shoka Sonjuku, the last place he should have been. Turns out, Hijikata wasn’t as married to it as much as Gintoki thought he was. 

Something weird and vaguely hollow settles between his ribs. He takes a long breath out until it’s mostly gone, then pours for himself and drinks to finish the job. “So,” he says, “about that unlucky bastard who’s stuck with you now. What’s he like, hm? I heard he’s a catch.” 

“Then you heard wrong. He’s an asshole with stupid hair and an even more stupid face.” Fucking rude! But before he can start defending his honor for the whole bar to hear, Hijikata turns to look at him, and the soft edge to his expression makes Gintoki feel like he should shut up, for this part. “But he grows on you after a while. After that, it’s not so bad.”

Ahh, geez. Spouting such embarrassing lines like that without any warning beforehand, what the hell. 

Gintoki can't even look him in the eye anymore, damnit.

He finishes his drink, in one go. His face feels hot. He's like, 99.99% sure Hijikata's laughing at him right now. Actually, scratch that, he knows he is; he can feel it, physically, sitting as close as they are now. "Heh. If I knew a bit of honesty would get you to shut up, I'd have done it years go."

"Shut the hell up, asshole."

He walks Hijikata to the barracks, after. It's one of those nights where nothing else is gonna happen, but it doesn't matter because the alcohol buzz hasn't worn off yet and it's no longer been eight days since he's seen this moron. “Well,” he says, after they stand outside awkwardly for way too long, “I’ll be going first.”

He plans to do just that. To go back to his house, get in bed, and sleep for the next twelve hours because he’s an old man now and he’s tired. But the words aren’t even out all the way before Hijikata grabs his collar, again, and presses his lips to the corner of Gintoki’s mouth for a long moment.

“Yeah,” he mutters, after pulling away. Even in the dark, his face is red, and Gintoki would absolutely, 100% laugh at him if only his face didn’t also feel like it was steaming a little bit. “Good night, Yorozuya.”

Okay. Okay, that he can do. “See you around, Mr Policeman.” He waits, and when he can’t see Hijikata anymore, he turns around and heads back. 

All in all, it’s a pretty good night.

It’s not a jail cell. 

Hell, it’s not even an interrogation room. Not that Gintoki thinks they’ll actually, seriously throw him in either of those anytime soon, but anyway what kind of setup is this? Why does it feel oddly familiar? Why are the gorilla, the sadist, and Hijikata all sitting on one side of the chabudai—and why is Jimmy going over there to join them?! Now it’s four against one! The odds are stacked against him even before they’ve begun whatever it is that they’re about to begin! 

And what’s with Hijikata’s expression? He looks like he can’t decide whether he wants to kill someone or die himself. The wanting to kill someone part is normal enough that Gintoki is pretty sure(?) that he’s not being arrested for now, but still, the vibes in the room, as the kids say, are kinda…off?

“Oi, seriously? Arresting me for no reason and then bringing me here. Is this gonna be a new thing with you hoodlum cops from now on or something? It’s the second time in a week!” 

“Thanks for coming, danna,” Okita says, ignoring him as per usual. Who does he think he is, lacing his fingers together like that? A yakuza boss? Doesn't matter. His expression’s blank, but Gintoki sure as hell doesn’t trust him or that shiteating glint in his eyes. “You must be confused.” Damn right I am! “We’ll get to that in a bit. For right now, we have a very important question to ask you.” 

A question? All this for a singular question? Do these gangsters even work anymore?! 

“Also, just so you know,” Okita continues, steamrolling past the indignant bluster building up on Gintoki’s tongue, “this conversation’s being recorded.” It is?? “There’s a hidden camera somewhere in this room.” There is?! “You’re going on record for everything you say here just so we have it for future reference. Bureaucracy and all that. Don’t worry, it’s nothing personal.” Liar! This is totally personal! “As soon as we’re done here, we’ll turn off the camera, you’ll be free to go, and then you can get back to whatever you normally do on a Tuesday. Sound good to you, danna?”

Hijikata drops his head into his hands. Why though? Nothing fazes him! Not his commander jumping out of his clothes at every given opportunity or being shot at on the daily by that little sadist punk or their collective trigger-happy grandpa, not even his own disgusting dog food! What could be so terrible that he’s just given up like this?? Gintoki tries to make eye contact with him, but that stubborn bastard’s apparently gone and decided now is a good time to start ignoring him, so he resorts to one last desperate measure. 

Oi! Oiiiiiii! Bastard, respond to my psychic messages, damnit! Give me a sign! I need to know what’s happening here!

Hijikata still doesn’t look at him. In fact, nothing about him outwardly changes, but Gintoki feels a response drift back to him down the psychic river, empty of its usual heat but still clear as day: You’re too damn loud. 

What the—?!

And you’re unhelpful! You’re reaching Yamcha-levels of unhelpful! Are you in on this? Are you the mastermind of this plot?

Hijikata’s head jerks up and the asshole locks eyes with him, finally. Huh?! Hell no! Ah, there’s the bitchiness Gintoki knows. Why would you think that?!

Why do you keep blue-balling me then?! Don’t you know only guilty people play hard to get? Just tell me what’s going on already, Yamchakata-kun!

Hell no!

Why not?! 

It’s humiliating! 

Huh?! That’s a really specific adjective to use! Why?! And what does it have to do with me?!

It just is! And it just does! Just shut up already, idiot! 

Hey, what kinda explanation is that?! 

“Danna, we all know how distracting Hijikata-san’s bedhead can be, but we really do need your verbal assent before we begin.” 

Ohhhh boy. 

He has a bad feeling about this. Something’s up and good ol’ Soichirou-kun is behind it; why else would he be smiling so creepily? That kind of smile belongs in Death N*te! The gorilla’s probably in on it too; dude’s done nothing but sit there and look official this whole time. Hijikata looks miserable enough that he probably has nothing to do with any of this, but he’s on real thin ice; Gintoki’s seen how fast he switches up when he gets to see the universe shit on Gintoki for the day. It’ll happen again soon, he already knows—if not in this chapter, then the next. Probably at Gintoki’s expense too. Frickin’ two-faced bastard.