#zura writes

[ran-orimoto]

[ For all the Chiaki fans in my inbox who have requested for this MTTCI (May the thunderstom come in) chapter to be cross-published here, there you go. I appreciate your support like always and I hope I can continue MTTCI as soon as possible to share more Chiaki💕💕💕. But I also want to write more about her in both AUs and my main timeline. And draw her, DRAW HER AS MANY TIMES AS I CAN💙. And why not…More Chiapei…💛💙 Too. ]

Of course, there’s Junzumi in this (they are 18 and 19 here), and there’s also a fatphobia trigger warning just like I said in the past! ]

XXX

In front of the glass of an aquarium

{ Those aquariums we refuse to turn to, unconsciously afraid of discovering they have transformed into an eloquent mirror. }

The boat he had been imprisoned in ceased to swing thanks to no one else but the person always reminding him of peculiar scenarios: of tree crowns being ruffled by invisible yet passionate cuddles; of the placid stream of a river being exhorted to hurry up by the voice of some caring specter; of the dozy sea being harshly woken up by frosty howls, messengers of a tacit sky against which it will start throwing annoyed waves, higher and higher columns of water trying hitting that ceiling of ice.

A beautiful paradox, the most beautiful one that could ever be created.

“ Hey, how is it going ? Is it as bad u thought it’d be?”

His back suddenly straightening its crouched position, his hands risking to drop his phone before he found the courage to look at it again, Junpei struggled not cracking an amused grin. After years, he had got used to receiving SMS from Izumi-Chan, but not so frequently, almost everyday and ,most of all, not to just chat about their lives, the most disparate topics they could come up with. Actually, whenever her name showed up on his desktop after such long intervals of time, it would along with a cheerful << How are u?>> followed by a very predictable invitation to some kind of gathering. Better than nothing, of course, especially if that nothing was equivalent to his inability to initiate a simple conversation with her. He could actually remember so clearly the day they had come back from Digiworld; the intense, almost immediate need to use the phone number she had given him, -and the others, obviously-; the resigned thud his weighted head had eventually produced on his desk.

“ Yeah, definitely.”

He managed to type in those words after a minute of hesitation, only those two words. For a fleeting second, in front of them, he felt proud of his accomplishment, smiling with repetitive nods of approval. Well done, Junpei , His satisfaction went up and down once, twice…Until he felt like a lightning had been hurled from the ceiling right into his disconnected brain to make him realize.

It’s drier than a desert! Are you stupid?!

Prey of mischievous electric jolts making his whole sitting frame shiver, his fingers landed on the keyboard again and started pressing random letters with haste, as they let their panicking owner brainstorm about a possible continuation to that cold beginning. Theirs was a chaotic dance, without direction, harmony, grace, one that was rebelling to the meticulous perfection of a sequence of muffled notes slipping through the pulsing walls.

“ FYI I’ve got no time to read one of ur papyri , thx.”

The rampant steps abruptly halted their undaunted stomping, as if it had been part of an obscure ritual summoning fearsome natural entities, legendary winds.

“ U can tell me about ur adventure later, tho. Or should I call it ur misadventure? SNS ahahah”

“Later ?”

He passed a caress through his mahogany strands due to a bunch of impalpable gusts of air messing with its tidy, or, at least, decent appearance. They found some special way to gain access to his soul too, because he felt a snap in his bosom, some force shaking it with a violent tugging and making it impossible for him to react in the way he would have in other circumstances: with utter shock, layers of incredulity suffocating an imminent explosion of enthusiasm. At the moment, on the contrary, he was just…Perplexed, confused before the sight of white bubbles coloured with vivacious smiles. That was Izumi’s own charming style, transpiring even from the mute screen of a phone.

“ Yes, later. U’re in Shibuya, right ?”

“ I am. I’m at the NNTT. At the

New National Theatre Tokyo .”

If only he turned to the glass behind him, he would be able to get an approximate glimpse of his extremely accentuated wince, of that stronger and stronger squeezing his puffy features were attempting to resist to. But he wasn’t going to…He wasn’t…

“ I don’t think I know where this NNTT is,

but I’ll search for it on Google Maps. NP.”

He was glad she wasn’t quite done with her turn yet because moving, shifting to the side and even making his index twitch were progressively becoming tremendous feats to him. Pearls of sweat would have started making that scorching sensation on his cheeks feel even more unpleasant, if the naughty yet benevolent breeze hadn’t returned to speak again, hadn’t blown on their path to convince them to go back.

“So, let’s meet out there in an hour or so.

I’ve got another photoshoot in my schedule and I’ll be done for today.”

“Grazie al cielo!”

“I’m tired and I want to eat something sweet.”

“We could try that cafe everyone has been talking about.”

“How about it?”

He blinked and reread the chain of messages with a hallucinated stare. The explanations were two: either he was still sleeping and he still had a whole excruciating day ahead, or she was teasing him like usual. He could foresee she would make him trip, making him crash his chin and teeth against hard bricks, after having lured him so skillfully with that spell she would cast on him without being minimally afraid of failing. She was Izumi, after all. And he was Junpei…The easily fooled Junpei, -only when it came to her, though!-. Yet, at the same time he couldn’t deny lately he had been feeling like something had changed in her, something he couldn’t identify, something he wasn’t sure what it might be. He was just aware she felt different , tremendously different, and he…Couldn’t help sighing relieved about it, no matter if she had thrown another enigma in the pile of the wonderful mysteries of her existence.

”Junpei? Are u still there ?”

“ Don’t tell me u’ve fainted.”

He furiously blushed at her remark, rough reaction that pushed him to be rapid in his reaction, agile. However, again, he didn’t take too long to gasp at a frigid, even rude << No>>, devoid of any sign of intonation, emotion and punctuation.

A girl, -and not an ordinary girl, no!-, was asking him if he wanted to drink hot chocolate together and he was acting in such a detached way! Well, Izumi hadn’t really specified she would order hot chocolate, but he couldn’t imagine himself wanting anything else at the moment. Only that delicious beverage could soothe his exhausted senses after that mess of a day; that and, of course, Izumi’s soft, gentle, cradling voice molding any story in pure poetry. Taking in account he liked considering chocolate as sacred food, its divine taste and the ethereal melody Izumi’s lips could weave would be enough for him to feel like he was having a snack in Heavens.

It was necessary to right that terrible wrong because he couldn’t allow that chance to fly away. If he screwed it up, he swore to himself he would never be able to forgive himself or avoid groaning at his reflection. Therefore, pulling his tongue out to give himself a boost of focus, -which, needless to clarify, was an exaggerated decision in that context-, he created a companion for that lonely <<no>>… Which happened to be a more lively, slightly more talkative, yet still very timid and solitary << yes>>.

No, yes, you sound like a preschooler, for Heavens’ sake!, At the nth silly mistake, he couldn’t keep himself from throwing his phone to his right with utter irritation. As outraged as he was feeling in the regards of the innocent technological device without a logically acceptable reason, he wouldn’t have minded if it had ended up on the floor, -with the screen facing the tiles, certainly, because his bad luck had no end-. Nevertheless, against all odds, it miraculously bounced on soft cushions and halted its soft hopping one or two millimeters distant from the edge of the bench. Disgruntled, he instinctively reached out before some new vibration could scare that giant fluke away.

<<I would be happy…So happy…>>, No, this would sound so…So…Stupid. <<I accept with great pleasure, Izumi. I would be <<honoured>>, This sounds embarrassingly despaired, instead, and, what a surprise, stupid. Again. He frowned, diverting his gaze from the dull yet eloquent surface and gluing his upset irises onto the plain white of a wall, the spot their rotation had to petrify on because they were unauthorized to push themselves further, onto a long barrier dividing two rooms, two areas, two worlds that were separated from each other. << Sure, Izumi, sure! Why not! I’m looking forward to it>>, This sounds better. Maybe she would hate how loud it would get in a real situation, she would put her hand on my mouth to hiss at me and tell me to shut up, but…But…Yes, I’ll go with this. Let’s settle things once and for all.

It seemed a crumb of his confidence had finally responded to his distress call, after having enjoyed itself making him wait, boil in his dense awkwardness.

” Sure, Izumi, sure!”

Raising his eyebrows, he stopped: did that initial exclamation look, feel like this in his mental draft? Really…? Then, why was it making his nose wrinkle? The truth was that it was a terrible reply! His thumb remained suspended on that arrow which might give his life an interesting turn, or so he wanted to believe at least, despite a little voice inside him suggesting he should keep his feet on the ground. That one was a lesson he should have learnt thanks to the amount of experience gained in almost ten years of friendship, -and in almost ten years of something else-.

What if I removed that second <<sure>>? Why didn’t I think of it first!?

After the nth time he had got himself trapped in his tangled, nonsense concerns, like a big marine turtle having been caught in a net while chasing a plastic bag, he tired someone checking his buffoonery from up there.

Actually, a door whose existence he had forgot about opened with a scary slap, startling not only him, but also that incessant hum that had been singing in his ears for almost an hour. When the two dimensions collided, one carried an alienating silence into the other, the impression a violent descent of some meters had happened in less than an instant. Despite the utter mess he was making while chatting with Izumi, he couldn’t deny she was still making him feel like he had been taken up to the sky she adored so much, had been walking on dreamy clouds for who knew how long. Now, though, some aggressive noise had accidentally made him let go of Izumi’s grip making sure he wouldn’t fall from such a height.

But he had. He had down into a place as immense as the expanse where he came from yet colder, much colder than that one.

“Nakamura-San!”

She marched out of the frozen room without looking back, decelerating only to bring her fingers behind her head. With a single gesture, an undulating motion of her wrist, she unraveled her low chignon in a cascade of dark chocolate, her long pail neck leaning forward in a liberating reflex.

She totally ignored his presence, just like the one of a skinny young man trotting after her.

“Nakamura-San, wait! You have been fantastic! Today I told myself we could really be the best duo out there. You, a top soprano. Me, an etoile. Imagine…Us starring in the most famous theatres in Europe, at New York’s Metropolitan too.”

Oh no, dude, you’re so pathetic, please, In the background of that mushy romantic film he didn’t absolutely want to be an extra of, Junpei found it impossible to grimace. And it’s not only because of those ridiculous tights I thank Heavens I could never wear in my life. She’s not interested, indeed, she detests you. She is repulsed by you. She isn’t even looking at you in the face, man!

Not even impulsively grabbing the girl’s hand to force her to turn helped him in his intent, until…

“Chiaki, listen…!”

At his touch her shoulders had already tensed, but that physical response affected her whole body once she heard what Junpei soon discovered it was her first name.

Dumb move. How can you be so stupid?, Junpei asked himself, slowly opening his bag to find a book into which plunging his disinterest . That was such an ashaming spectacle: he wasn’t going to give his eyes that unfair treatment. They didn’t deserve it. Still, surely, it would be so nice if they acknowledged he was there and they were showing a stranger their mutual lack of respect and tact. If he had worn one of his coveralls, they would have undoubtedly seen him. It would have been flashier than the lame blue salopettes he was wearing on a simple orange sweatshirt.

“It’s Nakamura. Nakamura-San for you, to be precise,” She stared into her interlocutor’s restless orbs, her face stuck in a stern arrangement, a detail Junpei casually grasped while searching for a specific page of his music sheet.

“Su-Sur-“

“And, sorry to tell you,” She insisted, cutting him short, impassive. Junpei’s focus would usually take a while to get used to reading and studying, so it was normal he was keeping on getting distracted, wondering how her eyebrows weren’t minimally curving because of her distress. “We haven’t been fantastic. You were too tense and distracted. You…Were out of step, your arms looked like noodles on your partner’s hips and you would have also stepped on her foot, if I hadn’t coughed on purpose so you could stop looking at me.”

“T-Then…You have been fantastic, Nakamura-San?”’

Junpei’s thinned irises travelled through the lines of the same stave back and forth, hopping on the scribbles occasionally warping the notes’ circular shapes, dwelling on those more than on what he was supposed to be working on. The environment had grown too taciturn for him to animate that mute paper in his mind, so he got unavoidably led to diverting his intellectual efforts on some other topic, on the trembling muscles of the black-haired lad and the statue in front of him.

A statue ready to flee from her despised pedestal.

“I’m sorry, Kobayashi-San,” She sighed, closing her spheres whose shade was still unknown to Junpei. Incredibly, he perceived a minimal turmoil in those features, maybe just a fruit of his fervid imagination.

He also sensed a pang in his stomach at the sight of the young woman, of that Chiaki, leaving her dance partner there , without adding a clarification to that apologize holding so much else in itself. Junpei couldn’t understand why he had got that hunch, -and he wasn’t interested in finding out the reason behind it, no!-, but he could confess to himself it was hurting, somehow. Cautiously observing the profile of the dejected ballet dancer, the tremors of his lips, the abandoned dangling of his limbs next to his hips was having a certain effect on him.

But ,again, he didn’t know why.

He didn’t…

The young man stood in that same spot for a whole minute, losing his dismay in the undefined shadows projected in the near corridor. Then, he found the strength to forge steel fists of frustration and viciously send a glare to the uninvited spectator. That was a decision Junpei should have expected at some point, but he had foolishly grown convinced he had become invisible. Thus, he had lowered his guard and consequently had- he had to admit it, regrettably-, minded about someone else’s business, someone else’s disgrace.

“What are you looking at, eh? Tell me. Don’t you have anything else to do, fatso?”

“Hey,” So, they were starting like that, weren’t they? It was typical. “Since I’m a fatso, you should have noticed I was here. Don’t I occupy this entire bench?” In spite of the heat the young man’s comment had generated in his throat, he wasn’t going to yell in a refined ballet academy, but that didn’t mean he would allow him to disrespect him. “Joke’s on you, man, if you have decided to talk about private matters here.”

“Whatever you say,” The young man replied, displaying his interior weakness once more. Judging from that little he had managed to analyze in the previous confrontation with the girl, he could state he was a spineless and submissive kind of dude. The only thing he could do was to look down on others, as if he had the right to do so. Probably, in his life he had met people giving him the freedom to act in such a superb way, but in that case he could do that just because Junpei was sitting and he was standing. “Looking at you, I wonder how much you have eaten to become so fat.“

“Excuse me…?” Even if he had muttered that question while concealing his shame under his bangs, those words stained with poison had still been spat on Junpei’s appalled face.

“Yes, in the photos on Facebook you look so different. And thinner. What has happened to you?”

It happened that I’m not the same person, easy, He reminded himself, painfully clenching his jaw as a photo of a slightly older opera student materialized in his memories: sliced back hair just like his yet much darker, cocky grin challenging the camera and flash, a stately poise, a handsome, an exceptionally handsome raising star of the lyrical singing panorama.

“Uhm…It’s a bit hard to explain,” The commotion in his tone had faded, his fiery spirit had been tamed by an imposing energy. And he hated that.

“I don’t care ,don’t worry. I’m just laughing at the fact the girls were so excited about this beautiful tenor who was supposed to come. Not sure if Chiaki was too…Oh well, better for me. Now that Chiaki is mad at me, I still can try with Kikuchi-San. She is the third girl in the second row, can you see her? She is not as curvy as Chiaki and can’t sing at all, of course, but-“

“Kobayashi dude, whatever you’re called, now I’m the one telling you I don’t care, man,” He snapped at him, but still turned. He did not because he was curious about who this girl was, what he looked like: when he said he didn’t care, he was serious about it since there only was a girl on Earth mattering to him. He did because Fate had decided that morning would be troublesome to him and had to keep on being such until the end, until he would escape from that chicken coop.

If he had to be honest with himself, however, that definition didn’t really feel that fitting once he found himself surrounded by minuscule shimmers directly pointed at him, on his lumbering silhouette. He was feeling more like if he had become the visitor of an aquarium being contemplated by a shoal of fish that had gathered and attached their mouths to the glass, their thoughts incomprehensible to the human on the opposite side.

Yet, Junpei had experienced the same emotion even without a glass in the middle of his life, even a second after he had put foot in there, had bowed before a displeased audience, had continued smiling despite anything.

Despite being aware he wasn’t the one everyone had been waiting for.

I’m so sick of this place, Izumi-Chan. For real.

[bossladytae]

Looking for Gintama gen fic?

Writers are often their own PR team, and the same goes for fanfic writers. I like writing gen fic, and so I thought I’d share a selection of Gintama gen fic written by yours truly. Click on each description for a link to the fic. Hope you find something you like!

Mitsuba cuts her own hair and resolves to begin anew.

Itou reflects on the dawn while journeying to Edo.

Hijikata grows obsessed with hunting down a criminal, who may or may not exist, and soon spirals deeper into darkness while haunted by his past.

Takasugi contemplates vengeance and other dark thoughts with a longtime companion.

Tsukuyo and Tae exchange information, assist one another in battle, and enjoy tea and cake and each other’s company.

In the forest, long before the group of young men are ever known as the Shinsengumi, Shimaru teaches a pouting Sougo how to skip a rock on the water.

In a timeline where almost everyone has perished in a great calamity, Kamui journeys through the world alone, trying to ignore the void within his soul while hunting down the enemies who killed his sister and father.

Moments in the life of Sasaki Tetsunosuke, as he finds his place in the Shinsengumi and at the side of Hijikata Toushirou.

Hijikata is unsettled by what he perceives to be a false peace. Tae is exhausted from picking up the pieces again and again. One night, they share in a drink and contemplate war and the future. (Mostly gen, as I explore both of their characters within the Two-Year Timeskip.)

The Shinsengumi navigate the effects of rapid aging during the Ryugujo arc.

Last, but certainly not least, Katsura stars in a series of misadventures: - publishing books and dealing with “mixed reviews" - orchestrating an elaborate plan to capture Matsudaira and Kondou (this story is told from the perspectives of 20 main Gintama characters) - getting stuck in a broom closet with Sacchan and Madao - tracking down a lost video game cartridge

[suchine-toki]

(One more) Top 10 Gintaka moments

Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.

1. First victory

After going day after day to the Shouka Sonjuku for an undetermined amount of time, Takasugi achieves his first victory against Gintoki. Understanding that he was weak, he defined him and Shouyou as his goal to reach. Thus, chasing Gintoki's back became an objective that he maintained throughout his life. But at this moment, Gintoki was really upset because Takasugi popped his cherry… his defeat cherry, that is (ch. 517).

2. The courtesan incident

After a fight between Gintoki and Takasugi, Sakamoto appears to say that the better friends they are, the more they fight. He also reveals that the reason for their latest conflict was that they both chose the same girl when they went to the red-light district, and she preferred Takasugi. This provoked an attack from Gintoki, but then Tatsuma added that the girl said he only drank and turned out to be very boring, which also provoked an attack from Takasugi, who was in the vicinity despite their previous fight (ch. 453).

3. We like petty wars

Back in the Joui War, when Sakamoto is injured, Takasugi is the first to speak to him, albeit harshly. Nevertheless, Takasugi seems relieved that Sakamoto survived and won’t keep risking his life. However, Gintoki intervenes, challenging the notion of quitting and affirming that Sakamoto can continue fighting, but in his own way. In an instant, both Gintoki and Takasugi agree to hunt down Sakamoto's attacker, declaring that they enjoy petty wars, i.e. not for grand ideals but to protect their loved ones. Naturally, this agreement turns into another competition to see who finds the guy first (ch. 568).

4. Give my regards

In spite of being estranged, they both say the phrase "give my regards to sensei for me" as a tribute to their master and a reminder of the legacy he left in their lives to those responsible for his death, showing them that Shouyou still lives. This also demonstrates how they are still united by the same emotional root while reflecting the duality of the paths they chose (chs. 397/398).

5. Pride

Being in Rakuyo and facing an imminent threat, Bansai believes that Gintoki is going to fight for the pride of the samurai, to which he responds that he is not interested in that, but his source of pride lies in both winning and losing against Takasugi many times, and that is the pride he is not willing to lose. In this way, Gintoki acknowledges that he still holds onto the respect and camaraderie they once shared (ch. 569).

6. Friggin' awful

When the Joui 4 were fighting, Gintoki is isolated from the rest and is ambushed by a huge machine that threatens him with a cannon. Before he can react, Takasugi comes to his aid, sabotaging the weapon in front of Gintoki's perplexed gaze. Then, both attack the mecha together as they tease each other, Takasugi asking how it feels to be saved by him who has just woken up from a coma, while Gintoki flips the question around, asking how it feels to have to be protected by him in the first place. To this, both respond that it's the worst, as an explosion occurs behind them. But they play it cool, because cool guys don't look at explosions (chs. 574-575).

7. Shouldn't interfere

Matako and Takechi have been tracking Takasugi and, after two years, finally found him. However, Matako hesitates about whether they should continue following him after seeing him fighting alongside Gintoki, feeling unsure of what to do, also recognizing that it was the first time she saw him acting silly and carefree. Similarly, the ship's captain comments that they both looked like ordinary no-good brats, which not only shows the camaraderie between them but also that they are happy being together (ch. 683).

8. Holding hands

While infiltrating the Terminal, Gintoki and Takasugi held hands twice. The first time was when the stairs they were climbing with Zura were destroyed, so Gintoki extended his hand, and Takasugi managed to grab it. The second time was when they were attacked while climbing the steel cables of an elevator. Here, Gintoki grabs Takasugi's hand to prevent him from falling and throws him towards a door. There was almost a third occasion where Takasugi was going to help Gintoki, but to no one's surprise, he was stabbed before he could do so (ch. 699).

9. Use me

Takasugi urges Gintoki to use his body as a shield, to which Gintoki seemingly agrees. They fight together, protecting each other and deceiving their enemies with strategies they can devise in an instant without speaking, demonstrating how well they know each other. Takasugi uses himself as bait to help Gintoki attack the terminal, but when he decides to sacrifice himself, Gintoki comes running to push him out of danger, a decision for which the enemy mocks him, saying he wasted his chance just because he couldn't bear to lose Takasugi (ch. 700).

10. Mutual support

Takasugi smiles while watching Gintoki reunite with the Yorozuya, something he urged him to do on multiple occasions since they reunited because if there is one thing he wants, it is for Gintoki to be happy. With the little strength he has left, he takes Gintoki's bokuto again and uses it to support himself, symbolizing how Gintoki helps him move forward. Similarly, in his final fight against Utsuro, Gintoki declares that Takasugi is in his soul while seeing his spirit protecting him. Thus, Gintoki holds his sword and defeats the enemy with Takasugi's aid. This is the second time they exchange swords in the series but, unlike the first, here it is more explicit that the other's soul is what helps them do what they have to do (chs. 701/703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4) (Bonus)

[whosname]

[Id. Digital drawing of Zura and Gintoki. Zura is holding a covered in blood Gin by his hip while he looks away shy~ish. End Id.]

Are we still plagued by green screen ginzura?

[short-circuit-the-great]

Throwing canon out the window for this fic because these days I care less and less about canon compliance and more and more about testing really cool alternate scenarios

[symbieote]

Gintama has had a huge impact on my taste in media, my sense of humour, and just about every aspect of my life, including the fact that i admitted to myself that i was genderweird and the fact that i use tumblr at all is because of gintama. But like. The one way that its ruined my life and made the biggest impact on my day to day is how i will let out a reflexive ironically unironic tehepero in many contexts where i cannot possibly expect anyone to understand what i mean. Tehepero 😜. It is absolutely inscrutable to people who dont watch anime or who dont know japanese but even if they know what a conceptual tehepero is its impossible that anyone would parse the fact that im specifically referring to the stupid gintama tehepero. And not just the term in general or the K-On! meme.

[wodimewoahtime]

I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT THAT KATSURAS HAIR WAS CUT DURING THE BENIZAKURA ARC????

they really just said "does katsura have a wig on right now? maybe? hmmm"

AND NEVER BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN????

[windfighter]

My cat from hell

There was a tiny, black cat in Junpei’s hands. Grip firm, holding the cat with outstretched arms as to get it as far away as possible. Takuya blinked. Junpei did as well.

”Is… is Kouji here?”

”He was yesterday”, Takuya answered and stepped back inside.

Junpei followed him, cat still held at arm’s lenght. Didn’t even kick off his shoes.

”What’s with the cat?” Takuya asked.

Grabbed his wallet from a table and put it in his back pocket. Junpei huffed behind him.

”It’s a hellspawn is what it is.”

Takuya laughed. Junpei didn’t and the laughter died out just as quickly. Takuya opened the door to the study.

”Kouji?”

”In here.”

Ah. Takuya closed the door with a smile and went to the bathroom instead. Opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. Kouji was in the bathtub, arms resting on the side and his head on his arms.

”Want to join?” Kouji asked and smiled.

”Would love to”, Takuya stepped inside, leaned down and gave Kouji a kiss, ”but you have a visitor and I have errands to run.”

He dipped his fingers into the water. It was warm and Takuya frowned. Kouji would usually take a cold shower and not soak in the tub.

”You’ll still be here when I get back?” Takuya asked.

”Probably”, Kouji closed his eyes. ”I’ll hide in the study if you’re bringing someone.”

Junpei peeked inside and Kouji opened his eyes again, frowned when he noticed the cat. Takuya buried his fingers in Kouji’s hair, felt his head move as his eyes traced over Junpei.

”Gia is gonna be mad”, he laughed. ”Shoes off, Junpei.”

”Yeah, yeah”, Junpei didn’t move to take them off. ”I need your help.”

”Is it urgent?”

Kouji closed his eyes again and leaned back, let his arms sink down into the water. Takuya sat down on the edge of the tub, kept his eyes on Kouji. He could still see Junpei move in the corner of his eyes.

”Is it urgent?” Junpei repeated. ”Is it…”

He lifted the cat a bit higher, as to make a point. Takuya snorted.

”Take this hellspawn before I drown it in the tub with you.”

”You wouldn’t”, Kouji said.

Didn’t move. His eyes were a little too closed to be relaxed, but he wasn’t hunched over or holding his hand against one of his sore spots. He was in pain, Takuya realized, but not more than a five. He grabbed Kouji’s hand and squeezed it. He wouldn’t want Takuya’s help for anything less than an seven.

”I need to leave now”, Takuya said. ”I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He stood up, dried his arm and gestured for Junpei to go back out. Junpei didn’t move until Takuya grabbed his arm and turned him around, dragged him out of the bathroom and closed the door.

”Give him ten or so minutes”, Takuya said as he let go. ”Then he’ll be ready to help you with… whatever this is.”

He gestured at the cat, who chose that exact moment to let out a stream of pee right on Junpei’s shoes. Junpei’s face got red, lips thin, and Takuya put a hand infront of his mouth to hold back a laugh. He patted Junpei’s arm.

”I’m sure the two of you can figure it out.”

With that he hurried to the door, grabbed his coat and left before Junpei could do anything. He shook his head as the door closed. He just hoped the cat wouldn’t be there when he returned.

[justpendule]

It seems that even when I'm writing Gintama fics, Code Geass is calling to me.

[desultory-novice]

There wasn't enough room to include Gryll in the poll but you may write-in votes for our favorite Onion Witch if you would like!

Also, "Why Taranza?" you may ask?

...Because Kirby Clash put forth the theory that what we consider to be Taranza's "hair" may in fact be an elaborate hat.

(It's Japanese name was Taranzura, a pun with "zura" meaning wig. Later posts backed up the fact that Magolor indeed thinks/jokes that Taranza's wearing a wig. This would also be strangely in-line with his "haughty nobility" personality as white powdered wigs were massively in fashion in the 17th-18th centuries.)

[doki-doki-imagines]

omg,,,, active blog that writes for gintama???? I thank you for your service.

I saw that ur asks are open!! I wanted to request gintoki, sougo and katsura headcanons with them pining after a crush that is extremely oblivious to their feelings and every time they try to confess, some mishap happens. ty!

Gintoki Sakata:

-Gintoki is so used to his luck that falling in love with an oblivious person doesn't sound that bad, theoretically.

-In practice Gintoki bumped his head so many times on the walls of his office he decided to tell you straight his feelings (he doesn't have the money to repair the walls, he can't be pathetic and more broke than usual)

-But being straightforward with his intention may not be enough when a car ran over a puddle and wetted you from the roots of your hair to the point of your toes "I have to run home to dry myself. We'll talk another day, Gin!"

-He waved back at you with the same happiness of a man walking towards death.

-Or when Zura decided his presence was needed to fight against Amanto. Or when Hijikata decided he committed actions that deserved immediate seppuku.

-Something he'll do soon anyway if luck keeps turning her back to him.

-Shinpachi saves him, in front of a cup of tea during a normal afternoon.

-"You should ask him out, I'm sure he'd accept." Shinpachi says to you. Meanwhile, Gintoki, hidden behind a wall, feels his knees giving up.

"Are you sure he is interested in me? It seems like he always tries to avoid me..." You reply, voice dripping in sadness

"It's not my fault!! I swear!!!" Gintoki thinks meanwhile.

"Yeah you should go for it. Ask him now. He is hiding behind the wall right now." The younger boy says before taking a sip of his tea

-The temperature drops, like two out of three heartbeats in the room

-Seems like your first date will be in the hospital. Maybe if Lady Luck is generous, she'll put you in the same room...

Sougo Okita:

-The main problem is that Sougo says, "I'll make you go for a walk every day" thinking it's peak romance when it's the most alarming phrase ever. You can't even call the police since he IS the police!

-You know he has no bad intentions towards you. At this point, you perfectly know how he talks and acts.

-But Sougo has patience, that's why he wanna be sure first that you are desperately in love with him before making his move.

-It has to appear like he is doing you a favour by getting together with you.

-What he doesn't consider is that not everybody falls automatically in love with his cute face.

-Seems like he'll be the one that has to work hard this time...

Koutaro Katsura:

-It's...difficult.

-He loves to pine and watch from a distance without interfering. At maximum, he enjoys helping you out. You are oblivious, thinking he is doing it just because he is a really kind friend.

-It's a mess, and Elisabeth won't help you out.

-His crush for you will come to light thanks to Gintoki, he is blabbering about stuff you don't care, and then, like a bolt out of the blue "That idiot, Zura. Can't barely ask you out, let alone-"

-Your mind couldn't hear anything less, any sound muffled."Gintoki, where is Koutaro?"

"Mh? I don't know, but I wouldn't search for him. Let the guy appear like he always does at the worst times-"

-You nod, biting your lower lip. Yeah, it's a good occasion to think some more. You have to make sure your confession will be clear even to the man with the thickest skull you know.

[ran-orimoto]

• { Iniziando da capo una tempesta nella testa } Restarting again from a brainstorm •

[ LMAO I said I would put my effort in writing and I did it. I put my butt on gear and kept the promise, -because I had already broken one, so I didn’t want to risk to make the same mistake twice in a row-. Now, if I could adopt the same attitude to write my bachelor thesis, I would be the happiest in the world, so once I cross publish this here, off I’ll go⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️. I believe in me! ]

[ Context: Junpei and Izumi met again in Parma four months ago and have started hearing from each other more often. The calls Izumi shares with him and Takuya instill in her a sense of nostalgia that takes her back to Italy sooner than the boys had expected. She couldn’t miss a snowy trip to Val di Fassa organized by a Kouji who could have never imagined he would spend holidays with the whole group.

The story is set during San Silvestro, on the 31st of January, or better, some minutes after it because anything can happen in the first beats of a new year, even to Junpei. ]

XXX

“I like this song, y’know? It would be nice to go dancing it together, eh eh.”

“Va bene! What a great idea, it will be fun!”

…

Every spell was meant to wear off at the stroke of midnight and his, whatever it had consisted in, hadn’t been an exception. However, he hadn’t been warned by the usual, sumptuous bells of a clocktower, but by the screech typical of a CD that has been abruptly interrupted, so by one of those awful noises that could really spoil even the best weather.

And yet, the music had kept on going, indifferent to the lancinating stridor never ending in his ears, to the stasis it had frozen his mind in despite thick pillows and big stoves, to the wince of slight fear he welcomed, once he gulped at what had sounded like the first heart pulse he had ever heard in his life.

Confused and disoriented in his own world and skin now that the enchantment had taken off, without even giving him the chance to ask for a little, if not minuscule, concession. After all, it wasn’t like he would have praid for the miracle of a reverting night, of stars spinning backwards to disappear behind Val di Fassa’s mountaintops, of the Moon diving in some dark lake like a biscuit dipped in a mug of chocolate. He would have simply settled for just a crumb of what it had stolen away from him too soon. All that boldness, recklessness, that hint of arrogance too which would often often fog the meaning of life in the mind of some during the first hours of the new year.

It was a special kind of nonsense inebriety coming after having gobbled down one or two drops of Teroldego or having left a glass of spumante full to the brim on the table. It would allow people to do what they would never do in other occasions, because it would bring along an accentuated sensitivity to the flow of time, the dash of the years, the succession of the songs.

It was the common sight of the shadow mounds of grey swabs project on Earth.

So, yeah, he guessed things might have gone a bit differently. Endowed with those special gifts, guided by such a magic and urged by the awareness it wouldn’t last forever, he would have grabbed that hand at once. And , maybe, he would have also managed to look into the eyes of a beautiful cyclone without pushing his gaze downwards, not certainly at the level of those fingers and their flashes of violet, but even more downwards, on his thighs which his palms had attached themselves to with a refound stickiness.

“ Su !” Izumi exclaimed and he could only reply through an awkward chuckle, reaching out to try dragging her along with him, down into a dive in his universe of perplexity and bubbles transforming certainties into ambiguities.

Thus, he soon felt her arm hesitantly pulling away, then her parting from him with some steps backwards taken on her ticking boots. By doing so that rapidly, she gave him the impression of a gradual suck of air draining him of the freshness of the still distant spring, with the consequence that he got left inert in the asphyxiating embrace of his body’s heat.

Fortunately, she spoke again as soon as she returned onto her seat, in front of her coca cola and its munched straw, at the opposite end of the table…Or so he believed she had, at least, not expecting he would find himself stranded below a marine sky having just opened above the Alps like an unexpected aurora borealis.

“Oh, I see,” After having occupied the chair Kouichi had been on, until he, - the quiet, sober Kouichi in the flesh!-, had been incredibly persuaded by Takuya and Kouji, and Tomoki too, to join them for another toast, she seeked for satisfying comfort in the sinuosity of a contorted pose. With her head resting on her knuckles and bending to a side to follow the slope of her lips, she giggled through an echo of embarassment which he was so used to seeing on the reflection of his face, in the opaque mirror of a bottle, but he wasn’t when it came to hers at all. “I think I got carried away by the general excitement. You weren’t serious, were you?”

There might be a pinch of irony in the fact that for the whole duration of that dinner, that one had been the only instant he had spotted clarity in both words and thoughts, and the mere reason what that she was right…Like always, needless to specify that.

Actually, when he put a certain amount of effort in picturing a dimension in which he had brought himself to accept her invitation, - as if he hadn’t been the one who had invited her in a first place!-, he gasped at the realization he had no idea how that story would have unfolded next.

From experience, some sixth sense whispering from inside his chest reassured him he would have made a fool of himself. Therefore, he immediately grimaced at the fantasy of a nightmare dotted with stutters, forced coughs and sneezes, hands rubbed against the checkered feast of yellow on his waistcoat as, of course, they would have grown so sweaty at invisible touches grazing the rosy fabric of a pretty winter dress. Oh, and a final, sonorous face-plant that couldn’t miss to coronate the performance, one drawing the attention of everyone present the hotel hall after having spoiled their jubilation.

In truth, he couldn’t remember a single party during which he had ever messed up that terribly. Indeed, he couldn’t really remember a party during which he had messed up in a first place and hadn’t attracted each single spotlight over him. He had also danced with his fellow sopranos during the celebrations of their successes and he hadn’t only managed to carry out the delightful task brilliantly, but he had also taken their squeals away by putting on display his surprising skills, -and for the record, those were the words of the ladies in question!-.

Still, when it came to Izumi, he was aware it would be totally different. Everything was in her company…Especially the reliable, confident, eloquent, gallant young man he had grown into, that person she hadn’t regrettably got to meet yet in those four months of frequent videocalls. He had hoped she would in those days of holiday in the cold Trentino, but she hadn’t had that luck over there, either. On the contrary, she had stayed by the clumsy Junpei’s side for the whole time, included on those occasions he had slipped on ice and had created impromptu snow angels by frantically agitating his limbs out of frustration.

Honestly. What the hell was I even thinking!?

A little overwhelmed, he sighed and gave up on controlling his shoulders’ resigned sagging: his brain seemed to want to work only to sabotage his plans, or better, him himself. Staring at the glass in front of him, he decided to finally pick it up, but he did just to fiddle with its content, make the precious liquid rotate, generate little waves that failed to make the foam on its surface fade at each lap.

“ Now that you’ve asked me, I’m not sure whether I was or not.”

Nevertheless, he still attempted to clean the one floating on his conscience, though he made sure to occasionally send strained laughters in Izumi’s direction, certainly not as fleeting as only hers could be. Actually, the very first of them, already heavy and lumbering, ended up dwelling on her flickering petals for more seconds than he had planned, waiting for them to completely open and uncover the majestic scenario from before. When he forced it to hastily return on that thin, transparent edge off which it was easy to fall in the thick mist stretching below, he felt like something had changed but his absent focus couldn’t seem to want to sharpen that perception.

“I had figured as much, but I didn’t want to make assumptions. It…Would have been rude to let your words hang like that. So, I came and tried.”

“Had you because you believe I can’t dance?” However, since those lilac buds could open the door to the only place in which he was convinced he could retrieve the transparency he had been longing for, that’s where that smirk went back, plunging the tip of its curve in alcohol just to be carried away by the tide, in a journey through libeccios, lightnings and, inevitably, thunders.

As soon as he woke up on a dreamy shore, the sensation that something was so different from what it had been lately came before the one of pinkies twitching, dim colours reigniting, gusts of a strong breeze whistling. “Eh eh, that wouldn’t have been rude at all. Many think I can’t dance and, I mean, I can’t blame them: I’m aware I hardly look like someone who can.”

“I have no reason to have got doubts. Many, me included, also believed you weren’t able to sing, and yet…?”

Then, he sat up, no matter where he exactly did, whether on humid sand or his chair, because in both dream and reality he eventually smiled at the crystallinity of a clean sky, though in the latter he didn’t with with the immense relief of a castway, but with the goofy grin only Junpei could crack.

Especially at Izumi.

“And yet what ah ah…?”

“Don’t act as if it’s hard to predict what I was implying,” She retorted in a steady tone while hugging her torso, her natural frankness making him lose teasing duels before they even began. Yet, probably unluckily to her, it was right because her orbs were soaked in so much honesty that they themselves betrayed her, by showing him new unusual signs of that shyness his ears had previously been tickled by. “And whatever, who cares if you’re also decent at dancing, right? The song you said you like finished ages ago.”

Never stopping staring at each other like if they had been condemned to live as statues together, they blinked in unison as they listened to the slow duet that was currently advancing in the heart of the room.

“ Oh mio Dio ,” Izumi trusted her giggles with her comment. She didn’t add anything else, except a millimeter of tongue she promptly hid behind her hand.

“Yeah, you can absolutely say that,” His amused reply followed immediately afterwards, babbling about opinions that hadn’t been phrased, -and to him, they had never needed to be for their gist to be grasped-. “It’s from a cult movie I watched as a teen. It’s mushy, but I remember it gets very catchy as it progresses.”

While diverting his pupils from her after what had felt like so long, no desire for more determination, courage, impulsiveness, stupidity and whatever else you could add as ingredient for an illusion ever crossed his mind. There was only he and the dear struggle of imagining her hand in his, of trying again and, like that, a spell that had never existed, one which, most all, he had never needed, definitely broke. If he had asked her once, he could do it for a second time, glueing his nose on the same wood, taking the same deep breath, inhaling in the same warmth, pronouncing the same stammering question.

More or less.

“I-I like this song. Just a bit, though, I promise I’m not sentimental! It would be nice if, y’know, we could-“

“Go dancing it together?”Actually, she cut him short, and happy as he was, he allowed himself to get persuaded she had completed his sentence not because she had already heard it, she had been invited to dance twice, but because she had got the glimpse of pure honesty in his ponds of honey as well. And…Maybe, why not, of something else too, which poured red wine she had never tasted in her cheeks.

“Uh, y-yes! Exactly!”

He stood up as soon as he felt smooth velvet caressing his palm, tenderly mocking her intention of lifting his big size. Still, he allowed himself to be led to the dance floor by her as if he was as light as a feather, free from all his trivial worries, futile complexes.

Marching, clapping, spinning and rumbling next to that tornado she was, he wondered if someday he might come to find limpidity in the tempest they could assemble together, in the clouds of a storm.

But for now he, indeed, they would go on dancing, not wanting to waste further time, other seconds of that night, another single song from that party.

XXX

Buon anno, Junpei. Buon anno, Izumi. Buon anno a tutti noi!

Because, of course, I wish you all spent a good beginning of this promising 2025, -we always have to hope in good things!-.

Italian notes (not many this time, another present!)

• I want to start from a note about the title, as here come they, the beautiful language gaps. Brainstorm, which I ‘ve found an ideal term for what is happening in Junpei’s mind for well-known reasons, is not a term I can translate in italian with the same “pun”. We have got nothing similar here, so I had to be lamer in my own language merely replacing it with a simple “Tempest in the head”. However, I love how the whole thing sound in my head tbh. I love the random rhyme (I hadn’t planned it lmaoooo).

• Va bene!: The longer, italian “ OK! “ In my head it sounds like the same Izumi pronounced at him in Train of Hope, when he tells her he has got a present… *puts thousand of heart emoticons *.

• Val Di Fassa: A valley of Dolomiti, mountain groups dominating the Eastern Alps. Val di Fassa is precisely in Trentino, in its north-east.

• Teroldego: red wine typical of Trentino. The end. Ah listen, I don’t drink just like the Izumi of my stories, so I know nothing about this stuff, even if my father is a wine sommelier lol. Now that I think about it, I could ask him about more details tomorrow.

• Su!: Common exhortation to push someone to do something. A bit like c’mon…?

• “Oh mio Dio”: Oh my God. It’s always that, but I don’t want to skip any clarification despite repetitions among chapters.

[sadahugsblahaj]

The climax of the Katsura Enrichment Month has arrived, that is Katsura's birthday. I wanted to talk about him anyway, since I'm more than halfway through a rewatch of Gintama and despite all the great characters and writing, I feel like Zura stands out to me the most. I would say he is a freak among freaks.

When I watched the first episode some time ago, I thought he was gonna be the serious fancypants character who always shows up to berate the mc for their behaviour.

Never would I have expected this guy to be possibly the most unhinged from them all. Guy sleeps with his eyes open, uses glasses with mustage to hide his identity, brings a kotatsu to a queue for a videogame console release, but the console he wants came out years ago, goes fishing in a public pool, shits on graves, gets hit by a car and gains the car's guardian spirit, goes on an interview as an anon but keeps revealing his name, has a baby gorilla with the police's chief, has a written exam for his terrorist group, feels left out out of said terrorist group despite being the leader because he isn't caught up to the latest shows so he goes to obtain a driver's license because he can't rent dvd without an id, fails and uses his wanted poster as an id, recruits the singular guy the terrorist group wants to overthrow, the leader of the country itself into the group and other members like the guy more than him and he can't prove in any way that he is indeed better than the guy.

One could really go on and on with him, this really just scraped the surface, whenever I hear his theme I grin immediately.

Happy birthday Zura!!

[suchine-toki]

Thoughts about Katsura

Katsura is an amazing character that could’ve been even more amazing. He was always a chaotic presence in the daily life of the series, not for nothing his blood type is AB (according to him). But he has other facets. One aspect to highlight is the dichotomy of his character. He’s serious in nature but is so eccentric that he ends up being one of the funniest characters in Gintama. He’s very smart and a complete idiot at the same time. He can be extreme and measured. He’s a revolutionary.

I remember thinking that it was selfish of him to want to force Gintoki back into the Jouishishi. And he in a way he is. But then I realized that he’s probably just lonely. He lost his parental figures several times. His biological parents, his adoptive parents, his grandmother, his sensei…

That’s another matter. The relationship between Zura and Shouyou is usually not considered, other than Zura (apparently) imitating his appearance. I think this is one of the two most important aspects of his character that should’ve been explored more. At the end of the series, they’d a brief encounter, although it wasn't even in person, in which Shouyou called him his prodigy student. While it's an important acknowledgment, it's striking that this type of bond hasn't been shown before and that Shouyou never calls him by his name.

The series puts much more emphasis on Gintoki and Takasugi's feelings towards his sensei. In fact, the main reason they were fighting the war was to save Shouyou. However, while it's acknowledged that Zura was there for that reason as well, it wasn't the only one. He was more idealistic, and his goal was beyond rescue. He seeks political change in his country. Although the historical component of the series was never very developed, it presented enough elements to create a comprehensible story for the characters.

It’s here that I must mention another important aspect of his character that should’ve been explored further: his political career. In the time skip Zura is shown as prime minister. However, this gets involved with Utsuro's plot, missing the character’s initial goal. Certainly, one could argue that he wasn’t seeking a political career and that it’s okay to step aside once the changes have been set in motion. But there’re a couple of things to consider.

Although Zura starts out as an extremist, part of his development is that he realizes that taking a violent path can hurt people he cares about, like Ikumatsu. This opens the way for moderation, and pursuing change through institutionalized political avenues makes sense for his character. The other point has to do with the fact that it’s absurd to step aside when social changes have not yet taken hold because because they’ll most likely be reversed.

This is why I feel that Katsura's character is great, but it could’ve been better if his bond with Shouyou had been explored more and if at the end of the series he had been allowed to grow. To become a masked vigilante on the run is to end pretty much the same way he started, without much sense.

[lotus-tower]

Why do we talk like that about Gintama?

So this is something I've already talked about a lot here and there, but I thought I would condense my thoughts on the topic in its own post.

We've joked a lot about math zeitgeist, but why in the world are we furiously mathposting about Gintama? Why did I write 28 pages of actual essay for it? Where does kraniumet get all those images from? (I've always wondered this.) Essentially, what's driving us to analyze these themes and motifs over and over again... and why can they be analyzed over and over again?

When I first wrote My Orochi Stood Up, I made it clear that this was an original framework made for the same purpose as all analytical frameworks and models: to enable me to gain certain key insights about the series, to account for all of its innumerable bits and pieces, and to arrange their relationships to one another in a cohesive, legible way. In short, as I wrote in my essay, it provides me with symbolic technology.

In the same vein, when I wrote my spontaneous math post, I said that so much of math is about things that don’t exist and yet become real, not just because they help you articulate something but because they help you arrive at a solution. This is the purpose of things like imaginary numbers--or negative numbers for that matter.

I know that we should never live life in accordance with the fake hater in our heads that we imagine saying stupid things to us so that we can respond to them in smart, cool ways. I'm sure Zura lives like that though, and we all think he's charming, so maybe we should reconsider this idea. What I mean to get at is that I've never once tried to claim that Sorachi literally intended any of what I describe in my ouroboros framework. I don't think he sat down one day and planned to make his motifs compatible with western alchemy, I don't think he had the creation myth of the island of Japan in mind, and I don't actually think he read Barthes.

But what's undeniable is that there is something so bizarrely consistent, coherent, and plentiful about Gintama's thematic flourishes--even though in many, many ways, Gintama is filled with bad, and worse, mediocre, writing. What sets Gintama apart from other series isn't the inherent quality of its writing (which has stark ups and downs). If you'll forgive the confusing and somewhat contradictory wording, what makes Gintama distinct isn't a quantitative difference (as in, more goodness), but a qualitative difference. What does this qualitative difference boil down to?

First is structure. This part we've gone over a lot, so I'll try to keep it brief (or novel?). Gintama is a series with basically just one favoured literary technique, and it uses it again. and again. and again. and again. and again. Parallels upon parallels upon parallels--and there are only a few key thematic ideas that Sorachi is interested in exploring. You can describe it as consistency, or, if you want to be uncharitable, repetitiveness. But it is, frankly, absurd the amount of parallels--or rather, the degree of parallelism--this series contains. What's interesting about it is its effects on how we engage with the story.

By making it obvious that this is a conscious and explicit writing decision (through various means, mainly dialogue), any characters with suitable parallelism to a prototypical character A are all connected to one other--let's call these the A-sided characters. This holds even if they're all a bit different from each other. Imagine all these A-sided characters spread out in line, like hostages tied to each track of a train track or the rungs on a ladder. They lose similarity with each rung, like loss of clarity in a game of telephone--let's call this "reflection lossiness." Even though characters in the top rung and the bottom rung may not have much in common, they may both be within "lossiness range" (<- I just made this up) of a character in a middle rung, and therefore able to communicate indirectly with one another.

Moreover, because the prototypical character A has a foil in prototypical character B, all A-sided characters are also connected not only to any individual foils they may have, but potentially to all other B-sided characters. Since it's easier to identify characters' thematic affiliations through their interactions and dynamics with other characters, the consistency of the A-B foil formula, when combined with the fact that animanga foils are generally made very obvious, helps us perceive these diagonal relationships. Thus, the reader can squint at the interactions of almost the entirety of Gintama's enormous cast with valid suspicion, with less difficulty than in other works with more complex structures. The series' sheer length also ensures that there is an abundance of material to comb through, so much so in fact that this careful inspection, through rereading again and again, becomes necessary.

For instance, the interactions between any given pair of characters may not seem directly relevant to our protagonist at first glance, but once you know the magic A | B schema, you may notice that that pair's interactions resonate with that of a different pair, one involving an A-sided character with less reflection lossiness from the top and who therefore reflects much more of what happens to them onto Gintoki. In this way, the original pair, who are probably just a couple of minor side characters who appear once in a weird arc and then never show up again, can make you go, "hey wait a minute. what if?"

What if?

Let's look at a concrete example. Housen and Utsuro don't seem to have much to do with each other at first glance. However, because we know that he parallels Kamui, and that Kamui | Kagura parallel Takasugi | Gintoki, who in turn can be mapped onto Utsuro | Shouyou, we can arrive at a Housen-Utsuro connection that wasn't previously obvious. What is the utility of this connection? For one, it sharpens our ability to articulate how the hole-sided flee from the things they fear and yearn for by adding Housen's infamous avoidance of the sun into the analysis. It also provides new ground for exploring potential ideas comparing, say, Kamui choosing to leave with the Harusame and walk in Housen's footsteps, with Oboro's resigned embrace of the Naraku and Utsuro. Additionally, since Housen was defeated in Hinowa's lap, this also helps us draw a Hinowa -> Kagura connection, which helps us arrive at a Hinowa-Shouyou connection, which helps to reify that Shouyou is a milf.

By inserting one or two blatant instances of foreshadowing and parallelism early on in the series, instances that are impossible to pass off as coincidence, Gintama primes the reader to suspect that similar nuggets might be hiding anywhere, to check every garbage can we encounter from there on out like in the Pokemon games.

Whoops. In attempting to explain the math zeitgeist I succumbed to using math in my explanation. It's irresistible.

But that's structure. Let's move on now to something arguably even more important: motifs.

It's undeniable that for a shounen series that's half gag-manga, Gintama has a strange amount of analyzable motifs, and a clear loyalty to them. Regardless of how extravagantly people on tumblr dot com may want to overanalyze their favourite Shounen Jump series, their efforts are usually restrained to theme and characterization. Their ravings do not usually resemble the ravings of the Gintama Salon. If you've read this far, I don't think I need to explain this to you, or what Gintama's most prominent motifs are. But why is Gintama so motif-ful? The sword's importance is obvious, expected even, but what differentiates Gintama from, say, Bleach, where the characters' swords also literally represent their souls in a way?

In the end the answer is what I already discussed in My Orochi Stood Up, the foundation of my entire framework, in fact its very title: the dick joke.

Sorachi's immature sense of humour is the glue holding the entire thematic and narrative structure of Gintama together. Why do we search obsessively for meaning in the flotsam of Gintama's less narratively charged moments? Because, quite frankly, many things are phallic. The sword is no longer simply a sword--by being imbued with the spirit of the dick joke, it becomes not only valid but textual to associate it with the head of the nation (shadow juice squirt), the motif of the dragon (thank you Elizabeth), and castration. What I mean is not whether the sword can be read as a dick--obviously, phallic logic has been prominent through all of human history--but the way in which Gintama's sexual humour gives us--and itself--an impetus to equate motifs in the first place.

Comparing very serious things to dicks is funny--the more abrupt, the more shocking, the more mood whiplash, the funnier is. Therefore, for Gintama's toilet humour to be as effective as possible, tone dissonance is ideal, pushing it towards the intermingling of comedy and tragedy that we know it so well for today. This in turn validates and reinforces the meaning-making role that these phallic jokes play in the story as a hole. It is not only that we cannot separate the dick jokes from the serious delivery of the plot, but that in many arcs important information is given to us through ridiculous gag devices (ball gags?).

The logic of basic sex jokes is extremely simple, intuitive, and easy to understand. The prominence of the pole necessarily implies the presence of the hole. I've talked about that enough in my essays, so I won't go into detail here, but the reason that I wrote my essays in the first place is because of how easy it is to map a procreative framework onto a series filled from beginning to end with phallic gags. As much as I may joke about it, the underlying logic of "the pole and the hole" is powerful and compelling, providing connective tissue to seemingly disparate motifs with ease. When combined with the "sorting" power of the A | B structure, the ability to associate any particular character with any particular motif easily gives us the ability to analyze how a given set of characters interacts with a motif; equally, where the motif sits in Gintama's playing ground of phallicism can inform a given character's dynamic with others.

I've already written at length about the role that wordplay plays in this as well. To save on time, I'll just quote from My Orochi Stood Up:

Gintama’s insistence on wordplay enables interesting meaning to be derived from these dirty jokes and their interaction with other motifs in the story. After all, the name of the series itself elevates the spirit of the balls joke, even if unintentionally, to the same level as the other metaphor in the title: “silver."

But perhaps the singularly most important example is the -tama in Gintama, with its plethora of potential meanings, each of them just silly and dirty enough that you have to take it seriously. Beyond the obvious joke on kintama (balls) and the “silver soul” meaning, we’ve seen that tama is also easily conflated with atama (head), and even with tamago (egg). This is clearly demonstrated with the series’ fixation on beheading leading to the salvation of the soul, and the bodyswap arc hinging on the pun between soul and egg.

In short, it is the comedic aspect of Gintama that fuels the series' own willingness to conflate and play with its motifs, and that validates--provokes--our mad efforts as readers to draw unlikely connections and dig through dirt. Though it may seem more ridiculous on the surface to be taking such a magnifying glass to such a profoundly silly series, it is in fact more justified for Gintama than it would likely be for a more serious series, one where the paths between motifs are not pre-paved, let alone lubricated with shadow squirt juice.

I was recently introduced to a theory of comedy where comedy was posited as an interplay between excess and lack. How this maps on to Gintama is obvious; but one thing that comes to mind now is how easy it would be to characterize our scholarly efforts in examining Gintama, a series one could humorously characterize as "lacking", as a kind of excess. Which is to say, I think Gintama has pulled its penultimate trick on us (because it's still coming out with more stuff for the anniversary. I believe it.) by making us part of its comedy.

[short-circuit-the-great]

The birthday party was three books ago of course I forgot which character it was for