Chapter 13: Gintama (Era of the Anti-Foreign Movement)

After officially joining the ranks of the Expulsionists, Take Okakura felt much more at ease. At the very least, she no longer had to wake up early every morning to wash vegetables, fetch water, or peel potatoes. Though she still had to rise before dawn, her mornings were now spent in training—carrying bricks while running, fencing, frog jumps, and the like. Take was delighted; practicing these was far easier than cooking or reading.

Thinking of this, she glanced at Gintoki Sakata, who lay idly to one side. He was their captain, but every time there was training, he would push all the responsibility onto the vice-captain, Hachiro Kumamoto. Kumamoto was a burly man, solidly built with a square-jawed, masculine face and sword-like brows. He was also remarkably direct when it came to discipline—if he took a dislike to you, he’d kick you on the spot!

On her first day, Take’s slim and slight frame had clearly displeased Vice-Captain Kumamoto. In truth, among her peers, she was considered tall, but having reported her age as fifteen and standing amidst a group of adult men, she seemed especially small.

Kumamoto was a straightforward man, and his displeasure showed plainly.

“Okakura, let me see what you’re made of!” He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular torso, and challenged her to a match.

Why was she being picked on by a superior on her very first day?! Take wanted to ask.

The reason? Ando, that big-mouthed braggart. On his first day back, he’d spread tales of Take’s heroics far and wide. Kumamoto had arrived later in a second wave of reinforcements, missing Take’s ferocious display. After hearing the rumors from Ando, he’d imagined Take to be a hulking brute, only to find a scrawny, unimpressive youth. Kumamoto simply refused to believe that such a small figure could have repelled the Amanto, so he had to see for himself.

“Let’s keep it to a touch. We’ll sumo wrestle—the first to step out of the ring loses.” Kumamoto drew a large circle in the dirt with a stick. Squatting down, he glared fiercely at Take. “Come on!”

Come on? Why was this guy so eager to start a duel on his own terms?! Take’s head throbbed. She looked around and found the surrounding soldiers watching with a theatrical air—some even called out encouragement.

“Hey, little guy, get in there!”

“Don’t chicken out—don’t be a coward!”

“Get in there!”

Meanwhile, Gintoki Sakata still lounged lazily.

Gritting her teeth, Take resolved to go for it. Sumo was about presence and strength, and she had the utmost confidence in her own strength. She could even move a truck, let alone a burly man!

She positioned herself opposite Kumamoto, squatting to gather her energy.

“Ahhh!” roared Kumamoto.

“Ahhh!” echoed Take.

The contest began! The watching expulsionist soldiers cheered, their interest piqued as they watched the two face off.

Kumamoto, true to his size, bellowed and tensed every muscle in his body, lunging at Take with outstretched palms. Take dodged aside. She figured that since she would have to spend more time with the expulsionists, it wouldn’t do to embarrass her superior on the first day, but she also couldn’t let others look down on her.

She needed to win, and to win with style!

Take twisted her body and pushed at Kumamoto with both palms, restraining her strength. Kumamoto met her push, and their hands locked as they grappled within the ring.

Sumo was not just a contest of brute force but also of technique—no dirty tricks allowed. It was all about how one used their own strength. Take could have thrown Kumamoto out of the ring with one hand, but if she won too easily, it would humiliate him. She decided to put in a bit more effort.

She pressed against Kumamoto’s hands, leaning into him and slowly forcing him toward the edge of the ring.

Kumamoto tried to twist away, but Take pinned his other foot down. He stared at her in shock—her foot, blocking his, was as immovable as an iron pillar embedded in concrete.

The edge drew closer and closer…

Now! Take released her restraint and slammed into Kumamoto, sending him flying out of the ring.

The soldiers erupted in cheers—the stark contrast in their physiques made the victory all the more thrilling. The little guy had beaten the giant, and excitement swept the crowd.

“Kid, not bad! You actually beat Black Bear!” Black Bear was Kumamoto’s nickname among the soldiers. He was dark-skinned, burly, and his surname was Kuma—Bear.

“Ha ha! Amazing!”

Kumamoto, still sprawled in the dirt from Take’s blow, watched as she extended a hand to help him up. With a hearty laugh, he grasped her hand and hauled himself to his feet, brushing the mud from his trousers.

“I lost! Never thought someone so small could pack such a punch. That last hit was something else,” he said with a grin.

“Dueling with Captain Kumamoto was exhilarating. Your strength surpasses any of the Amanto I faced,” Take replied truthfully. Kumamoto’s strength truly exceeded that of some of the Amanto she’d hunted down days before.

Kumamoto beamed at her words, laughing out loud.

Thanks to this match, Take Okakura had successfully blended into the expulsionist ranks. No one underestimated her again.

That night, Takasugi, Katsura, Gintoki, and two other captains gathered by candlelight for a meeting.

“Gintoki, what do you think of that kid?” Takasugi asked.

He knew at once who Takasugi meant. “A good one,” he replied.

Takasugi pondered for a moment. “Next time, let’s put him on the vanguard. He’s got remarkable strength—a force none can stand against. Did you see the crater he created with that blow? I’d have a hard time blocking it myself.”

“I’ve checked his background too,” Katsura added. “His town and village really were burned and slaughtered by the Amanto. I looked into the expulsionist rolls not long ago—there really was an Okakura Takehiko, but… he’s already fallen in battle…” Katsura trailed off.

A somber mood settled over the group. Since the start of the Expulsionist War, they had lost countless brothers. So many had lost fathers and sons.

“Should we tell him?” Katsura asked.

“Gintoki, you’re his captain. You should be the one,” Takasugi said.

“Quit dumping these things on me all the time,” Gin grumbled, his eyes dead-fish as ever, but his non-refusal was as good as agreement.

Truth was, Gintoki was best suited for such things. Takasugi was too cold and blunt, his words likely to wound; Katsura’s mind wandered in odd directions—he might start crying before finishing his point. So it was settled. Gintoki, with all the gravitas of a shounen manga protagonist, would handle it. (Is that even how you use “Tom Sue”? Hey!!)

If you’re going to have this kind of conversation, you need a little sake, right?! Gin scratched his head. The meeting was over, so he planned to find Take Okakura and have a man-to-man talk—the kind that called for a drink.

Getting sake was easy for the White Demon—after all, Officer Ueda, who ran logistics, was a rabid fan. When Gin told him he urgently needed two bottles, Ueda obsequiously produced four, “Buy two, get two free.” His adoration for the White Demon was beyond help.

Eyes shining, Gin grabbed the bottles and a couple of cups, then went in search of Take Okakura, finally dragging her up to the rooftop.

“Gin-san, is something up?” Normally, Gintoki Sakata never sought her out, so his initiative tonight made Take suspicious. Could it be that the White Demon’s keen eyes had seen through her disguise as a girl?

Take eyed Gintoki nervously.

“Don’t be so tense,” Gin said, grinning as he poured the sake. “Here, have a drink.”

“I’m only fifteen. I’m not old enough to drink,” Take muttered, mouth twitching.

Gin froze. Damn, he’d forgotten—this kid really was young! But never mind, a real man lives to challenge the rules.

“No worries, drinking is a manly right of passage—age is no obstacle,” Gin insisted, sliding the cup into Take’s hands.

No, age is very much an obstacle! Take stared speechlessly at the cup, then looked up to find the White Demon’s eyes gleaming at her. Just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? Her mother had always been strict, so she’d never tasted alcohol.

Just a sip, she told herself.

“Come, let’s toast.” Gin raised his cup.

Take raised hers; their cups clinked with a clear ring.

The sake was strong, burning her throat as it went down. Take choked, but after a moment, tasted a lingering sweetness and fragrance in her mouth.

Gin took a deep draught, sighing contentedly.

“Take, I have something to tell you.” Gintoki set his cup down and looked at her.

His serious expression unsettled her. “What is it?” she asked.

“We found your father, Okakura Takehiko. He died in battle.”

Her cup nearly slipped from her grasp; she caught it, head bowed as she stared at the transparent glass, whispering softly, “I see… He’s gone…” Tears slipped down, one by one, falling onto the glass, sparkling and clear.

Gintoki turned away, gazing into the night sky, giving her space to weep.

Take had thought that, after preparing herself, she could withstand any bad news. But now, confronted with death’s finality, she found she could not bear the grief of losing a parent.

A samurai—her father had been one. He always said, “Once a samurai, always devoted to the way of the warrior.”

He was an ordinary man with lofty ideals—her father, who always smiled foolishly and told her to live honestly. Time and again, her wild anger had been soothed by his simple, sincere words.

“Take, walk the righteous path.”

That was what he’d told her most.

It didn’t matter how many times you strayed, so long as you found your way back. The worst thing was to know you’d gone wrong and keep going. As Mencius said: “Righteousness is the true path of man.”

There is righteousness to nation and family, to brotherhood, to friendship. To help others is righteous, to love your parents is righteous, to cherish life is righteous… Yet everyone has a darker side—no one can be upright forever. But when your back is bent, you must have the courage to stand up straight again!

Rise up, hold your head high, and return to your true path in life.

Tears streaming down her face, Take grabbed the bottle next to Gintoki and drank deeply. The burning sake seared her throat, warming her through until she flushed and slumped down.

Looking up at the black winter sky, she felt how small human existence truly was.

In the blink of an eye, one could find oneself utterly alone…