#imsorryifitsbad

Chapter 1 - Don't let rivals steal your park bench

A man clad in a thick hooded overcoat wandered around the dense streets of Kabuki-cho, followed by confounded stares from strangers he passed by – because who in their right mind would wear a coat under all this heat? He sighed at his failed attempt to be inconspicuous and pulled his hood down to hide his face. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a street vendor dialing his phone while staring suspiciously at him. Great, not only did he have to deal with the stroke-inducing sun, he’s going to get reported to the police for looking shady.

He hastened his walking speed to get away as soon as possible. With impeccable luck, he spotted an empty park full of shade with a comfortable-looking bench – a sight akin to an oasis for someone in his shoes. He wasted no time to practically dive in the said bench.

Ahh… it’s still so fucking hot…

He scans the area one more time confirming he’s alone before he unbuttoned and took off his coat with the speed and haste of a cherry boy getting laid for the first time. The stuffy cloth no longer obstructing his face and stature, revealed a striking bishounen with sandy hair wearing the unmistakable Shinsengumi uniform. Still feeling too hot, he discarded the uniform’s heat-absorbing jacket and suffocating cravat, then unbuttoned his white undershirt for good measure. When he gets back, he’s definitely signing a petition for summer uniforms goddammit.

It’s been two arduous days since he lost sight of the damn fucker he’s trailing. And now the damned rat completely concealed himself in a place he shouldn’t be in; his home, but in an unfamiliar state. He knew nothing will come out of this manhunt, but he can’t rest until that bastard pays with his life. But first, he needs some lead to find that man before he can even be granted a taste of spilling a drop of his blood.

He considered seeking out help from one of the few men he trusted and respected. It was a fit job for someone like Danna… A dozen parfaits would be enough to get that old man going. But then he’d either have to hide his identity or reveal the whole truth to him. The latter was a no-go.

He was in the middle of weighing his options when he felt cold metal touching the back of his head. Inwardly, he stiffened and cursed at himself. He didn’t think the man he’s chasing would be competent enough to sneak up to him. A rat only knows how to run away. Maybe he hired an assassin for him? But then again, would it really be easy to find someone who can match up to him?

“Oi, didn’t I tell you I’d bust your ass if I find you here stealing my spot? Did your little Chihuahua brain forget the deal that on Mondays this bench is mine, yes?”

The man stilled at the voice as his blood suddenly turned cold from panic. Shit, shit, shit. He’s not supposed to meet her. Anyone but her.

--

“Gin-chan, can’t we buy my packs first? I’m running out.” Kagura whined as she nipped her last stick of dried seaweed. The Yorozuya was sauntering along the streets with their usual gait, which the town folks already marked as a sign of incoming disaster. It has been an established fact in the residence of Edo that trouble always follows wherever the trio goes.

“Anyone listening to you right now is going to think you smoke, Kagura-chan!” Shinpachi bellowed in his usual tsukkomi fervor.

“Yeah yeah, they’re going to think we’re no better than tax-robbing nicotine freaks. We have an image to maintain, young lady.” Gintoki followed up nonchalantly, trying to smoothly dodge her actual question. However, Kagura was not the same naïve child that she used to be and noticed it. She glared at the middle-aged man who currently has his pinky finger digging one of his nostrils.

“Whatever, just buy me sukonbu, yes!”

“The client is going to buy us lunch later, Kagura. And he said it’s going to be a fairly easy job so we’ll get the pay right away. After that, I can buy you ten or twenty boxes of your stinky snack.”

“Bullshit. You’re just going to waste it all in pachinko, yes?!”

“Oi, you two are being too loud! Everyone’s looking at us!”

“You’re louder!”

And the three-way banter erupted the streets of Kabuki-cho. Per usual.

All of a sudden, Kagura halted when they neared the park. She narrowed her eyes to see the disgustingly familiar poop-haired man lounging on the park bench. Her park bench. “Shinpachi, what day is today?”

“Huh? Monday… Why?” Shinpachi answered, albeit confused.

“That fucking sadist… That bench is exclusively mine on Mondays, yes!”

“Eh, but we’re working today, Kagura-chan. You won’t be needing that bench today.”

“Doesn’t matter! We swore, uh-huh! Go on ahead, Gin-chan, Patsuan. I’m going to beat that Chihuahua and show him who’s boss!” Kagura growled and marching off like a man on a mission, rolling up both of her sleeves for added effect before the two men could say another word. The sight was not fitting for a blossoming teen girl holding a parasol. Defeated, Shinpachi sighed.

“I thought girls are supposed to mature faster than boys but it doesn’t seem to be the case with Kagura-chan. She’s seventeen now. When will she act her age?”

“Maybe that rule doesn’t apply to Yato. Just let her grow at her own pace, Pachi. It’s us who’s going to end up lonely when that time comes, anyway.”

--

The female Yato trudged her way to the park, her fury emanating from her whole body. Inside her head, she came up with different ways to ambush the sadist and imagined him being blown away by her greatness. The thought conjured a grin on her face. Though Kagura would never ever admit to it in this lifetime, there’s the fact that amidst her raging desire to mop him on the floor for occupying her bench, she was also a teeny-tiny bit elated to find him after not seeing him for two weeks. Don’t get the wrong idea though, she probably just missed having to beat up someone in an intense fight – something only he could provide.

Although Kagura would rather die than admit it to his face, even a piece of shit like him is part of what she calls her home. So it should be natural to want to see his awful mug once in a while, right? Even though that piece of shit with an awful mug forgot about their deal. Yep, he’s definitely going to pay for that. It irritated her to the core thinking about how he had the gall to forget, or worse, ignore the deal they made. Did he think she wouldn’t find out he broke the deal or did he simply forget about it? Whatever, at least she got an excuse to whoop his ass even harder today, not that she ever needed it.

She was only standing a few meters away from him when a memory pops up. His posture was seemingly identical to when he was weeping (not really) over how everyone hated him while she pointed her umbrella on his head. That day was the first time she had seen a different side of him; a selfless man underneath a mask of a killer. A man who willingly taints his own name just to protect someone else’s honor. Seeing the semblance, she considered letting him off the hook just for today. Maybe he was having a bad day at work. The rivalry they have all these years formed at least an ounce of respect for one another, and she knew the right thing to do right now is to exercise that little respect by laying off.

Regardless of the admirable reasoning happening in her head, her body wouldn’t comply. A part of her doesn’t want to leave him alone even more. Just like that time, he looked like a lost Chihuahua and she figured that her compassion for animals (or at least that’s what she calls it) tugged her. Bakufu dogs are still dogs, after all. Plus, who knows what might be going on in his stupid head if she left him alone with his stupid thoughts. Geez, that punk should be worshipping her for being graceful enough to think of his well-being.

The best thing she can do right now is distracting him from his woes. She can’t imagine herself trying to coax him into saying his problems and it probably wouldn’t be easy to make him confide. Most of all, that picture… is just not them at all. So she does what she does best.

Pointing her parasol-machine-gun to his head and pose as a hitman.

--

“Ka- I mean, what are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking that, bastard! How dare you show up here when we clearly agreed that this bench is off-limits on Mondays, yes?! Now prepare to die, you punk!”

He swerved his head before she could barrage some holes on it, consecutively baring his sword and picking up a stance. Guess it’s not his fucking time to die yet. She didn’t give him time to catch a breath as she thrust her umbrella against his sword in a practiced manner. It was no surprise; after all, the guy always managed to dodge her bullets much to her distaste.

After some thrusting and clanging of weapons, she saw something different about the man. He wasn’t sporting his provoking shit-eating grin that she hated with every fiber of her being and was instead looking away from her as much as possible. Now that she thinks about it, he hasn’t thrown any insults for the past minutes which was utterly out of character of him. His attacks, despite being powerful and offensive, lacked the usual sadistic spunk. It even looked like his attacks were intended to keep her at bay instead of beating her. Oh shit, he’s acting worse than I expected.

“Oi, what’s wrong with you? You’re not quite your sadistic self today, yes.”

Her question caught him off-guard. They both halted in silence, standing ten meters away from each other. After a few seconds, the boy turned his head to face her with his trademark smirk plastered on his face.

“What are you on about, China? Did the heat get in your head? But then again, even the heat can’t do anything when your head’s already empty, to begin with.”

A vein bulged out from her face. This shitty brat… Is this what I get for worrying?! Not that I was really worried!

“You piece of shit! Want me to drill a hole in your head, yes?!”

She sprinted towards him in less than a second, putting all of her strength in one blow. Even the punk-ass sadist can’t withstand a full-blown attack from a Yato who mastered qigong, prodigy swordsman or not. Well, he does always manage to get away by smartly dodging instead of blocking… until he did the exact opposite.

The red-headed Yato was dumbstruck by his bold move – but not as much as bewildered at the fact that he was still standing from blocking her attack with his arm. And when she thought there couldn’t be anything more surprising, she locked her gaze on his face and found his eyes were not looking how it usually is. The sight nearly made her eyes pop from its sockets. She drew back, wearing a mug that looked like she was seeing the ghosts of all her dead Sadaharus.

“S-s-sadist! Your eyes! Why are they blue?! The last time I checked, you had menstruation-colored eyes, yes!”

She screamed in aghast. A hundred thoughts passed through her mind in one second. What happened to his eyes? Did he have an eye transplant? Maybe he injected food coloring in his irises? No, sadists don’t do that; they’d be the ones puncturing other people’s eyeballs, not the other way around. Perhaps this bastard is secretly a member of the Kurta clan? Ah no, that still wouldn’t make any sense... Is this even the sadist?

“They’re colored contact lenses, stupid China. Like ‘em?” He smirked smugly. An expression that she hated the most on him.

“Hah? What for? Do you think you’re Kurapika, bastard? For all I know, you’re just copying me, yes! Do you really like me that much?” It was her turn to look smug as she spat in his direction in order to emphasize her disgust.

His smirk widened into a Cheshire cat smile like how Okita Sougo would when he’s up to no good; the last time she’s seen that on him was when he welcomed her back and blew her up with a grenade. She found his reaction weird, as she expected him to curl his lips in revulsion at her last statement. But then again, he was always one unpredictable nasty bastard. In one beat, he closed their distance and abruptly slashed her with his sword, which she instinctively blocked with her parasol.

“In your dreams, China girl.”

--

Meanwhile, another sandy-haired man was having his siesta on the comfort of the cold wooden floors in the Shinsengumi compound. His trademark eye mask was in place, and he was about to count Hijikata’s 1598th rotting carcass when an annoying voice disrupted his reverie.

“Okita-san! How come you’re here?” The plain-looking guy with a plain-sounding voice popped his sleep bubble. Okita didn’t bother taking off his eye mask before replying sharply.

“Shut up, Bakazaki. You know I’m always here on Mondays ever since I lost a bet against that damn China. Are you rubbing it on my face, huh? Wanna die?”

Both knew his whole statement was a farce. A decent and dutiful cop would be out doing his rounds at this time of day – not taking a nap and having dreams of cutting their superior. Petty(?) bets with a Yato girl had nothing to do with it; he’s just too lazy to do his job under this heat. Yet the threat still worked as the poor Mobcop slash badminton player stuttered in fear; it’s exactly because Okita Sougo was not a decent dutiful cop that he wouldn’t hesitate to blow up a subordinate just because he’s pissed.

“N-no! I would never! It’s just that two reports came in from Kabuki district…” His ears perked at the mention of Kabuki – the place where everything exciting takes place. Not to mention, the place where a certain China girl who’s the walking definition of disaster was dwelling; the very China girl who banned him from his glorious nap place. Just the thought of his defeat against that woman made him itch in irritation. This time, he pulled his eye mask over his head to glare at the plain-faced Jimmy. “Spill it.”

“The first one was about a suspicious man wearing a black hooded coat under the summer heat strolling around the streets and the second one… well…” Okita raised a brow at the Jimmy’s hesitation. “I said spill it, No. 9. I don’t have all day.”

“Hey, I’m not No. 9 anymore! That arc was ages ago! Besides, I was 6th in the last poll while you stepped down two places-“

The previously-9th place-now-6th place Jimmy didn’t have time to react when the young captain grabbed his bazooka out of nowhere and launched a rocket at him. His appearance was now reminiscent of when he got his roasted perm in that one tear-jerking, snot-inducing arc.

The look on the captain’s face expressed a menacing threat: Another word and I’ll reduce you to ashes. Yamazaki quickly recovered and tried to organize himself before continuing.

“I- I mean, the second report was strange since you’re here, Okita-taichou. A civilian complained just now that the China girl and the Shinsegumi First Division Captain is currently wreaking another havoc in the park…”

Okita blinked a few times at his sentence.

“That’s stupid even for you, Jimmy. How can I be in two places at the same time?”

“That’s exactly what I was saying, Captain…”

Hope that wasn’t as shitty as I think. Haven’t had the whole plot laid out while writing this so it might be all over the place. My first draft revealed too much while this might be a little too vague (or a little too obvious?). Don't hold back in the criticisms coz I honestly need them. I won't snap back at you :) Sorry if the jokes were lame ;-;

Note: Revised 10/19/21