Gintama; Takasugi x reader {Ephemeral Moments}

Chapter 14 {Y/N}

I dream about my parents last night. It wasn't one of the usual brutal nightmares I've had lately, but there's a different kind of brutality in it that makes your chest sore. In the dream I saw them searching for me, worry deepening in the lines of their faces as the day goes by. I figure it's about time I give them some sort of reassurance that would cover up my sudden disappearance and ease their worries. Now that the ship is docked at some land maybe it would be easier to send them a letter.

Resolved upon a letter, I leave my room and head to where that man is. Though I'm not obliged to, I feel like I should inform him about it. Since there's no way to know any possible way to send a letter from this remote place all the way to Edo, I'll be needing some help from his men. And having his permission grants it better chance to reach my parents.

After my attempt to help their commander in the infirmary, some of the members who were present there seem to acknowledge my existent better while most aren't certain how to behave. I feel a bit less pressured by all the intensive glares I mostly receive. It's a good start, I think to myself.

I turn left to the last corridor down the way, lost in thoughts. And almost bump head on with someone at the corner.

     "I'm sorry," I apologize, startled, and stagger back. A man is holding a tray packed with dishes. The food appears untouched. At the side of the tray sits a little bottle of...yakult?

     "Um, is something wrong?" I ask the man, indicating to the food. There's no need to question who the food is for since only one room occupies this section.

     "The commander told me to take it away," he answers. "But he's barely eaten since he woke up."

I look down at the food, thinking instead of the chef. "I'll give it to him," I say, and take the tray. He gives me a faithless look before leaving me to the task. The meal is still warm.

Honestly that man doesn't understand the effort and time it takes to make supper. And how is his injury going to heal if he's not willing to eat?

I sigh and walk to his door. Perhaps now I have a better excuse to come here again. Especially after how he coldly left me yesterday I don't know how to start the topic of my request. I wonder if he finds me annoying rather than suspicious now.

I knock on the wood of the doorframe. A short pause follows. Then a "Come in."

I slide the door aside. He's perched at a corner of the room, and looks up at me with barely any change in his expression. Bandages are still wrapped around his chest. I notice in surprise as he sets a shamisen down beside him.

I set the tray on the low table. "I heard that you've been denying your meals," I say, fixing him what I think is a stern look. Of course, it's no match for the master of stern expression himself.

     "I don't need it."

     "Then how can you recover?" I pick up the chopsticks and set them on the rice bowl before rotating the tray to his side. "I thought you cannot wait to run wild again."

     "I'm not a brat, needing your lecture," he bites, glaring down at the food.

I'm not going to falter now. "You're not a brat, that is why you have to get enough of what your body needs." When his gaze linger on the food a little too long, I add, "I just brought the food from your man around the corner and cannot have put something in there that fast."

We hold a glare contest for whole minute before he breaks away. His stubbornness runs deeper than I first thought. Maybe he really isn't having an appetite at the moment. I take the small bottled drink and hand it to him. "Then drink this at least." He stares at it, not moving. "Drink it, or otherwise I will feed you." I give him a dark smile.

When he persists, as I predicted, I move to where he is and crouch right in front of him. I can feel him tense, because my body does too. My chest hurts from fast heartbeat and I cannot take my eyes away from his bare face. Our closeness makes my breath stop. Swallowing, I reach for one of his hand and put the drink between his fingers. He surprisingly lets me do it. His gaze stays on my face, and I have to crush the overwhelming desire to touch him. I stand and move away.

Putting more distance between us seems to clear my head by a little. I take the chopsticks and pick up a piece of sliced meat, thanking the process that it hides the flush on my cheeks. Not long after I've taken a bite of his food, he proceeds to uncover the foil lid and empties the drink. I chew on the chopsticks in an attempt to hide a smile.

     "Would it be all right if I write a letter to my parents?" I ask later. His food sits half eaten up between us. "I...kind of came here without telling anyone."

His gaze observes me, and I let him. It's a confession about the pure origin of my existent in his ship. If anything, that could be the answer to his question that night. Perhaps now he will perceive the person before him as nothing more than a foolish girl sneaking into a lion's den because she's curious about its king. Anyhow, I can't prevent him from drawing into any conclusions that he wants to.

     "Where do they live?" he asks instead, catching me off guard.

     "In Ikebukuro District," I answer, then wonder a minute later if it's a stupid thing to be so honest with a criminal.

He leans against the wall, one knee up, and looks out the window. I guess his silence means he doesn't mind. A smile rises to my lips again. I direct it to my laps.

The shamisen catches my eyes next. "I never knew you could play that," I say. But then a depressing thought comes that I in fact do not know much about him at all. It's quite irrational to feel so much for a person who you know so little of.

Speaking of which, I've also seen Bansai-san carrying that instrument every time behind his back as well. Its good to see another side of them besides what's mostly known.

Shinsuke looks down at the shamisen.

     "Would you play it?" I ask him.

To my elevated joy, he really picks the instrument up and places it on his lap. His other hand takes the plectrum, points it to the strings, and begins to play.

Sharp, beautiful notes glide one after another. I'm mesmerized by the exquisite music as well as the way his fingers move gracefully over the strings. His tranquil expression tightens my chest as the piece reaches a sorrowful turn. He plucks the plectrum, producing notes that hide more pain than the last. Emotion floods the piece as if they are the things that he never speaks of, never lets go of. All of the things he never knows how to cope with. Suddenly my throat stings and I'm not certain why he chose this particular piece.

I look at him through the blur of my eyes. The look on his face is the prison of my heart that I wish to understand. That place is now clear, bare. Past the coldness, it truly exists. I want to put my arms around him. If only I knew his pain and could take it away. When the music ascends into the sorrowful part once again it's like our aches reaching out to touch each other.

     "Shinsuke," says a sudden voice outside.

The piece abruptly stops, leaving my ears bare and my feelings raw. I mourn the lost of his true face to its stoic facade. Shinsuke sets the instrument aside just as the door slides open.

Bansai-san stands outside. He seems bewildered to find me in here as well, but doesn't speak anything as he enters.

Sensing my intrusion, I quickly dabbed my face with my sleeve and stand up, taking the tray with me. I offer a slight smile to the tall man by the door and earn an incline of his head in return. Without another word, I step out of his room, and silently close the door.