Chapter Text
At the age of 9, Kazuha decided to run away from their orphanage on a cold, snowy winter day.
"Why should we waste our resources on someone like her?"
Kazuha left the orphanage at the crack of dawn, bringing nothing but themself. Donning only a thin jacket and a pair of slippers, he ran away from the small house. They didn’t even have a direction in mind, much less any sort of plan.
But he continued running and running without stopping, never once looking back. He ran and ran, and the sky gradually brightened with every step he took.
After what seemed like hours, they finally came to a stop.
The previous scenery of the now-busy cityscape had transformed into what seemed like a quiet residential neighbourhood. The buildings looked uncannily similar to those of the Edo period that Kazuha had seen in some of the books they secretly read in the orphanage’s library while hunched over in the shadows, away from the hateful eyes of the caretakers. It wasn’t somewhere he was allowed to be, after all.
He shook his head and began to take in the sight around him instead of dwelling on unwanted memories.
Where am I?
Panting and trembling from the exhaustion and the piercing cold, Kazuha navigated through the empty street. Each step he took drained whatever little energy was left in him after running for hours through the city. Nevertheless, he took one step—and another, yet eventually, he found himself collapsed on the ground out of exhaustion.
Their body shook like a lone leaf on a windy day as it tried to warm itself. With their vision darkening and their consciousness fading, it took the last drops of energy they could muster to drag themself to a nearby alley.
It's so cold.
I hate it.
I hate the snow.
I hate winter.
The bone-chilling cold of winter was slowly taking over him. His eyes slowly drooped down when a figure suddenly appeared in front of him.
With one hand holding a wagasa and the other holding a bag of groceries, the figure spoke.
"Young lady, it's not good to stay outside like this while it's snowing."
Kazuha’s hollow eyes looked up at the blurry figure of the owner of the gruff-sounding voice.
“I’m not… a young lady. Just… Kazuha…” he muttered before blacking out, all the energy sapped from his small body.
At the age of 9, Kazuha met an old man named Shinohara Kenji for the first time.
Shinohara Kenji had taught them the way of the sword.
The sound of shinais clashing against each other filled the otherwise silent and empty dojo. With each strike Kazuha made, Kenji responded with an even harder blow.
"Ack!" A thud could be heard as Kazuha fell on their back. They winced in pain and looked up at the man who had defeated him yet again.
"Not good. This is the 45th time you lost to me, Kazuha-kun," sighed the old man in disappointment while shaking his head.
"HEY! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO FORCED ME TO LEARN THIS!" snapped Kazuha. Finally getting back on his feet, they continued, Why do I have to learn this? Sword fighting is such an ancient thing anyway. This is why no one wants to come here, old man-"
But Kazuha couldn't finish their words as Kenji smacked them on the back of their head.
"O-oi… T-that wasn't necessary. And are you sure you're 64 years old? That slap just now almost made me pay a visit to heaven," muttered Kazuha meekly, face-planted on the floor.
"Don't ever badmouth your own culture and tradition. The world might have advanced a lot but these teachings should never be forgotten by you useless brats. Now get up and get into position."
"AGAIN?!"
The kids at their school never liked Kazuha. But they're fine with that. Even after getting bullied and name-called throughout their entire school life, never once did Kazuha retaliate back knowing that it would only backfire on them.
But their patience could only last for so long.
"Say, did yer know that Kazuha was adopted?! Her grandfather isn’t actually her grandfather. And turns out, those two are of the same type of people," snickered a female student in an empty classroom.
"No way! I guess it’s really true that those types tend to stick with each other, don't they," another girl replied.
Ah. Not again.
Kazuha was used to being the subject of gossip, but it was the first time that someone had ever included their grandfather in their jeering.
If he were to stay here any longer, he might actually do something that would definitely disappoint their grandfather.
Kazuha was about to leave when the first girl spoke up once again.
"Honestly, people like them should just kill themselves. The world would be a better place without defects like them."
"And unfortunately, we will have to suspend your granddaughter for a period of two weeks for inflicting harm upon two of our students. She is prohibited from entering the school compound during this period until the suspension is lifted. This decision is final."
The old man sighed, but decided not to argue against the principal's decision, knowing that it'd be a futile effort on his end.
"Understood, Mr. Principal. I shall make sure that he learns his lessons," responded Kenji. He stood up and dusted his kimono before leaving the office.
"So, did they finally decide to expel me?" asked Kazuha the moment Kenji stepped out of the office.
It seemed as if they had no remorse for what they had done, as they ate some yakisoba bread despite the no eating and drinking sign plastered on the wall.
Sighing for the nth time that day, Kenji dragged the 15-year-old teen out of the office by their ears, ignoring the screams of pain filling the hallway.
"AH AH AHHHHH THAT HURTS! THAT HURTS! LET ME GO YOU DAMN OLD MAN!"
"You should be lucky they only suspended you for two weeks, brat."
"My my only for two weeks? I wished it was longer— ACKKKKKK I'M SORRY I'M REALLY SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME! PLEASE FORGIVE THIS STUPID GRANDSON OF YOURS!"
The hues of pink and orange were painted over the sky. The pair of grandfather and grandson sit together side by side in the garden next to the dojo in silence, gazing at the open sky.
“Never use your strength to hurt others”
Kazuha flinched, recognising the reprimanding tone of their grandfather that would only be used when Kazuha did something really, really bad (such as beating up their classmates to the point they had to be sent to the ER).
Kazuha replied with silence, but the old man didn’t seem to mind and continued.
“That was the very first thing I told you that day many years ago in this very same dojo. Tell me Kazuha, why do you think I decided to teach you the way of the sword?”
“... So that I could grow stronger?”
An awkward silence filled the air.
“And so that I could beat up some kids—” The statement earned the brown-haired teenager a smack on the head.
“That’s not it! Plus you yourself know that you don’t care about getting stronger and all that.”
“CAN YOU SERIOUSLY STOP WITH THE VIOLENCE YOU OLD GEEZER?!”
Not reacting to the angry outburst, Kenji finally turned to look at the teenager next to him.
“Kazuha, all of these things I have taught you are only meant to be used to protect yourself from any dangers when necessary, not to beat up your classmates.” He sighed.
“But more than anything, they are meant to protect your soul,” he explained as he placed his wrinkled hand on top of his chest.
“Soul?”
"Yes. your soul."
Kazuha didn’t understand what their grandpa was trying to say. After all, old people tend to have a very peculiar way of speaking about certain things.
Mimicking his grandfather’s sigh, Kazuha replied, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, gramps. What does my soul have to do with this?”
The sun was slowly setting, marking the end of the day. Kenji simply stood up and entered the dojo, leaving Kazuha dumbfounded.
“When your soul is strong enough to withstand any hurdles, that is when you'll truly be at peace, Kazuha.”
But Kazuha is a weak, weak human with nothing but a delicate soul that never stops wavering.
One cold, winter day, Kazuha’s heart and soul were shattered into thousands of fragments with just four words.
“I’m so sorry, Shinohara-san…”
Worthless.
So worthless.
Teaching me all that just to go off and die at the hands of someone else.
I hate you so much.
At the age of 18, Kazuha received news about their grandfather’s death.
At the age of 18, Kazuha held a real sword for the first time.
At the age of 18, Kazuha killed a human person for the first time.
“So you’re the infamous Manslayer Kazuha, hmm?”
Blood dripped from Kazuha's sword onto the snow, dying it red with the blood of the slayer’s previous victim.
Looking back, he comes face to face with a black-haired man cladded in a white suit.
They pointed their sword at the man, and in a voice void of emotion, Kazuha said, "Speak. Unless you want your head to fall off."
Chuckling, the man walked a few steps closer until his neck reached the tip of the blade. Blood trickled down his neck from the small cut, staining the pristine white collar of his suit red.
Kazuha had a full view of the man’s face. He has unsettling pitch-black eyes void of emotions and a fake smile plastered on his face.
"Shinohara Kazuha, I have a proposal for you."
On a cold, winter night, a lone crow decided to make a contract with a devil worse than Satan himself.
At the age of 20, Kazuha met a man named Kobayashi Shuuji.
Kobayashi Shuuji is not a good man. He uses other people for his own gain. He has taken away a slew of lives, both innocent and not.
But Kobayashi Shuuji would also buy ice cream for a crying child, give said child a pat on the head and ask them to stop crying.
Even though he was the one who murdered the parents of the said child.
Because that’s just the kind of person he is.
Kobayashi Shuuji is a very complicated man. Kazuha could never comprehend what goes on inside his mastermind brain.
But Kazuha is fine with that. Kobayashi Shuuji is not a man who is meant to be understood.
Because no matter what, Kazuha could never stop themself from following after him, every step of the way.
Because despite all his faults, Kazuha sees as the light in the darkness. Serving him, like a devoted follower of God.
For he is the only one capable of changing this rotten world.
Kazuha and Shuuji sat together in comfortable silence, with Kazuha propped up against the shoji window and the latter leaning against the wall, smoking his cigarette.
It was another one of those days when Shuuji would spend the night at Kazuha's place, accompanying each other with no words exchanged.
The only noise that would fill the empty room during these silent nights were the tugs of the shamisen strings played by Kazuha, accompanied by the smoky scent of expensive tobacco.
This night was no different. That was, until Shuuji decided to break the silence.
"Say, Kazuha." Shuuji puffs on his cigarette, and watches as the smoke swirls and fills each and every corner of the room. The lack of a nickname usually used by the man immediately alerts Kazuha.
"Are you willing to die for me, if I told you to do so?"
The music produced by the shamisen stops abruptly. Shuuji didn't wait for them to answer as he took one last drag on his cigarette, leaving the remnants of the cig on the now-filled ashtray.
"For what reason are you asking me this question, Shuuji-sama?" questioned Kazuha as he carefully set down the shamisen on the floor.
Shuuji chuckles, before closing his eyes with a thoughtful hum.
"Just curious. After all, you've been by my side for what, 5 years?"
"Each and every single time I give you an order, you always manage to go above and beyond to obey my commands."
"Who's to say that I won't end up discarding you in the future, once you're no longer useful to me," Shuuji looks over to Kazuha with sharp, scrutinizing eyes.
Kazuha stood up from the windowsill and walked over to Shuuji, with silent steps like the assassin he is, before kneeling in front of Shuuji.
"Shuuji-sama, I would do anything you ask me to. If you ask me to commit seppuku and slit my belly, I would do it. It is my greatest honour to serve you and I will continue doing so until the day I die."
Beats of silence passed by before Shuuji finally spoke up, seemingly satisfied with Kazuha’s answer.
"I see."
Walking away from his spot, Shuuji kneeled down in front of the bowing Kazuha. "Then let me give you an order that should be obeyed at all costs."
Shuuji placed his calloused hand on Kazuha’s chin, making the samurai look up at him. Shuuji's pitch-black orbs met Kazuha's crimson-red ones.
"Don’t ever die."
Kazuha just wants the best for their master, the man whom he looks up to. And they would do anything for Shuuji if it means he would be able to achieve his goal.
Even if that means breaking their promise and sacrificing himself in exchange.
I’m so sorry, Shuuji-sama. But it looks like I’ll have to break my promise to you.
Ah.
How happy I am to have been by your side all this time.
So please,
Don't look at me with that kind of eyes.
Kazuha smiled one last time at Kobayashi Shuuji. The man who had changed their life. The man who they would do anything for.
"I told you to drop the honorifics, didn't I? Call me Shuuji."
For some reason, the words told by Shuuji to Kazuha all those years ago that they deliberately disobeyed appeared in their mind.
Kazuha thought that perhaps this was one of those visions one would have right before their death. The thought of Shuuji and their comrades during their last moments brought a comforting feeling to Kazuha.
This is how Kazuha’s life is meant to end, and they gladly accepted the hand of the Shinigami looming above them.
"Shuuji,"
"Thank you."
Dying was one painful experience and he never, ever wanted to go through it again. But their purpose in this life had been fulfilled. Now all he had to do was go to hell, bear the punishments for all the sins he had committed, and let his grandfather scold him for all the stupid things he had done.
Or at least that was what he thought. So why did he open his eyes to the prettiest night sky he had ever seen in his 27 years of living?
"I didn't know Hell could be so beautiful."
…
This is not Hell.
Kazuha might not be a religious person, or a Christian at that, but they did know enough to know that they were currently not engulfed in the eternal flame that was described in the Bible.
Thousands of questions appeared in their mind about how they ended up in their current predicament, but they could process none of them as the feeling of sharp pain started flaring all over their body.
"Oh fuc—I take it back. Hell sucks," cursed Kazuha. With heavy breathing and the taste of copper filling his throat, he concluded that this was, by far, the worst pain he had ever felt in his entire life. Was it from the suicide bomb move they made before dying? Wouldn't one's injury heal up once they enter the afterlife or is that just in fiction?
Right. This isn't the afterlife. Get it together, Kazuha.
Kazuha attempted to stand up and immediately regretted their decision. Despite the pounding headache and throbbing pain all over their body, Kazuha tried to look around for any sort of clue to their location. Unfortunately, the only source of light they had was the moonlight, and their current condition didn’t allow them to move around as much as they would have liked.
After a while, their vision started adjusting to the darkness of their surroundings and sure enough, Kazuha found that they were in the middle of the woods, surrounded endlessly by trees. In the middle of the night. With only the Moon and the stars to guide them. How perfect.
The sound of crickets and broken branches they were stepping on were the only things accompanying them as they tried to make their way out of the forest.
Keyword: tried.
As their injuries completely sapped all of their remaining energy, Kazuha’s sight turned blurry and they collapsed on the ground, unmoving.
Kazuha was having a really, really bad time. He cursed God once again for making him go through such a terrible experience right after his death. Closing his eyes, he wished that he had at least ended up being reincarnated in one of those isekai novels that are part of Naoki’s collection. At the very least, they would end up marrying the Cold Duke of the North and have something like a happy ending.
The next time Kazuha wakes up, he identifies himself as an atheist.
On the very next morning, the body of an unconscious child was found in the woods by a young silver-haired boy.
A dead body? In the middle of the woods?
But Sakata Gintoki had seen enough corpses to differentiate one from a living person. Carefully inspecting their body, Gintoki realized that despite having multiple life-threatening injuries all over their body, this kid was still breathing and clinging to life.
Though that might change if they didn’t get any kind of medical care as soon as possible.
"Oi oi, I came here to escape from sensei yet I got myself into even bigger trouble," grumbled Gintoki.
Carrying the injured kid against his chest, Gintoki rushed back to Shoka Sonjuku as cautiously as he could so as to not jostle their injuries and further worsen their condition. The last thing he needed was to be charged with attempted murder.
I don't know who you are, but I’ll need you to stay alive.