Chapter 21: Gintama (Era of Expulsion)

In the days that followed, the Loyalist Army was forced into hiding everywhere, suffocated by the combined pressure of both the Celestials and the Shogunate. Amidst this tense atmosphere, a major incident occurred: a traitor was discovered within their ranks—someone had released Gowenwana. The internal suspicion grew rampant, and with the traitor still at large, every word was spoken with caution, for fear of being accused.

Kankura Take and Sakata Gintoki pretended as if nothing had happened, speaking as usual, but at night they no longer slept in each other’s arms. Kankura felt indifferent, but Sakata was left with a lingering awkwardness.

One day, Kankura and Kumamoto were assigned to a small reconnaissance team. As they ventured out, a deep rumbling echoed from the distant sky. Dark clouds drifted toward them, and a fierce wind bent the yellowed grass in waves.

“It’s the Celestials’ planes!” a soldier cried out, pointing at the enormous object on the horizon. They all froze—this was their first time witnessing such a monstrous contraption.

The silver, steel hull of the ship-like aircraft blotted out the sky. The roar of its propellers was as deafening as a tornado, a mechanical terror greater than any Kankura had ever seen. It dwarfed humanity, making them feel insignificant.

After exchanging a few desperate glances, they decided to return at once and report to the governor. But before they could move, the Celestial warship had already spotted them. Several smaller fighter planes swooped down from the massive ship.

“We’ve been discovered! Run!” Kumamoto, the squad leader, barked the order to retreat.

The group scattered in all directions, knowing that clustering together would only make them easier targets.

Kankura and Kumamoto happened to flee in the same direction. As they ran, Kumamoto grabbed Kankura’s hand, pulling her along, while behind them, three fighters closed in. Missiles exploded around them, shaking the earth.

Seeing the relentless pursuit, panic seized Kankura. She was about to speak when Kumamoto suddenly let go of her hand. He stopped, turned to her with a smile, and said, “Kankura, you go on ahead.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “What are you saying? We’ll escape together!” she shouted, grabbing his hand and dragging him forward.

The roar of engines and explosions still thundered around them. Kankura gripped Kumamoto’s hand tightly, her only thought to get him out alive.

Suddenly, Kumamoto wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her close. Kankura froze, unable to move. She twisted her head, panic rising. “Kumamoto, what are you doing? We have to keep running!”

“Kankura, I’m sorry. I’m the traitor. I was the one who released Gowenwana.”

The words struck her like a blow. Her mind went blank; she couldn’t even bring herself to turn around. Kumamoto—a man who had taught her swordsmanship, brought her food, and fled with her—was the traitor…

The world spun around her. All that remained was Kumamoto’s heavy breathing against her ear.

“Kumamoto…” she began, but before she could finish, a handkerchief pressed to her nose, and a sharp, stinging scent filled her senses. In moments, she lost consciousness, only faintly hearing the whispered “I’m sorry” from behind her.

Once Kankura collapsed, Kumamoto produced a device from his pocket and signaled to the sky. The three planes ceased their attack immediately. One descended, dropping a soft ladder to the earth.

Kumamoto gazed long at Kankura’s unconscious form, then turned and climbed the ladder into the plane. It took off and vanished, leaving Kankura alone, lying in the grass.

Time passed—how long, she couldn’t say. A chill wind roused her, and she slowly opened her eyes to the sight of a scorched, empty plain. No one was around. Then she remembered Kumamoto’s words: he was the traitor.

With a start, Kankura leapt to her feet, but dizziness overwhelmed her and her vision blurred. Stumbling, she pressed on—she had to return to camp and warn the others.

The wind howled, thick clouds massing on the horizon. Rain was imminent, and soon a torrential downpour battered her, each drop stinging her skin. Yet the cold rain cleared her head. Shaking water from her hair, she swept her bangs from her forehead.

“Damn you! You bastard!” she screamed into the empty wilderness, her voice raw with rage and the agony of betrayal.

Spent, Kankura began to run—toward the camp, faster and faster, as if she might lift off the ground.

When the familiar camp finally came into view, what she saw chilled her to the bone—a vision that would haunt her nightmares forever.

A colossal warship blotted out the sky, casting its shadow over the entire Loyalist encampment. Planes swarmed down from its hull, circling like vultures. Missiles rained without end, and the camp was engulfed in flames.

Beyond the fire, Loyalist soldiers clashed with the Celestials, and among them, men in uniforms distinct from the rest—the Shogunate’s own troops. The Loyalists were being crushed.

Staring at the chaos, Kankura thought only that she might as well die here with everyone else.

“Ahhh!” For the second time that day, she roared her fury, snatching a battered sword from the ground and charging into the fray. Her muscles ached, her strength was spent, but all that remained was the urge to fight.

Fight! Fight! Keep fighting, until death claims her.

She lost count of how many Celestials she cut down, or how many wounds she received. Like a wild bull, she charged ahead, striking down any Celestial or enemy soldier she saw. Each step landed on bodies—so many were Loyalists, some even familiar faces. Among them was Uncle Ueda, the steady, venom-tongued but kind-hearted man; his abdomen bristled with blades, his eyes fixed on the sky.

Kankura wanted so badly to cry, but she feared tears would blur her vision. She forced them back.

Then, amidst the chaos, she spotted a familiar figure in white.

The White Demon, Sakata Gintoki! He leapt high, slashing his blade in a wide arc that sent Celestials flying. In that instant, he seemed not a man but a blade himself.

“Gin-san…” Relief washed over Kankura at the sight of him—he was alive, thank goodness, thank goodness…

“Kankura!” As she hesitated, someone tackled her to the ground. She looked up—it was Kumamoto! Rage surged in her chest. She seized his collar and screamed, “You bastard! You brought them here! You traitor!” But as soon as she finished, she felt warm drops fall onto her face—blood from his chest.

With trembling hands, she reached behind him. There, protruding from his back, was a cold blade.

“Why…?” she whispered, stunned. She could no longer fathom what this man was thinking; he had betrayed them, drugged her, led the Celestials to the camp, yet now he had shielded her with his body.

Kumamoto was simply unfathomable.

“At last, I can finally say it, Kankura. I love you. I love you so much…” His eyes were gentle, brimming with passion. Kankura froze under his gaze. He had looked at her with those eyes many times before, but never as openly as now.

“Love… You love me?” Kankura could hardly believe it. Here, in the midst of battle, the traitor confessed his love.

“I’m sorry, Kankura. I only lied to you this once, and it will be the last. Deceiving the one I love hurts too much…” Kumamoto lowered his head and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to Kankura’s lips.

In that moment, Kankura could not see the transformation in herself: her once pale face became smooth and fair, her short hair glossy and black, her almond eyes sparkling, lashes long and curled, her small nose delicate above lips like a budding rose. She became stunningly beautiful.

What Kankura could not see, Kumamoto did. He smiled at her and said, “Kankura, forgive me…” Then he collapsed, eyes closing forever.

He had brought her betrayal and true love, and in the end, slipped away quietly. Kankura wept over his lifeless body.

She thought she would never forget that once, a man had said to her with his life: “I love you.”