Chapter 22: Gintama (The Era of Expelling the Foreigners)

After cradling Kumamoto’s lifeless body and weeping for a while, Okakura wiped her eyes. She couldn’t allow herself to cry anymore; this wasn’t the place for tears—she was headed to the battlefield. Gently pushing Kumamoto’s corpse aside, she rose from the grass and turned to walk forward.

Farewell, Kumamoto.

She picked up her weapon and cut a bloody path through the enemy ranks, felling many from both the Amanto and shogunate forces. What puzzled her, though, was the look of stunned admiration that flashed across their faces whenever they caught sight of her.

Slicing her way through, she reached Gintoki’s side. She saw a horde of Amanto surrounding Sakata Gintoki, like a pack of hungry wolves eyeing their prey. Okakura Take raised her spiked club and swung it toward Sakata’s direction, knocking down a number of Amanto with a single blow.

“Gin-san!!” Okakura Take finally reached Sakata Gintoki’s side. She looked at him worriedly and asked, “Gin-san, are you all right?”

But to her surprise, Sakata Gintoki gazed at her with unfamiliar eyes and asked, “Who are you?”

Okakura Take was stunned for a second, then realized what was happening and grew angry. Was this guy really joking with her at a time like this?!

“I’m Okakura Take! Gin-san!” she said, fuming.

“What?!” Gintoki was so shocked he nearly got slashed by an Amanto. After dispatching his attacker, he turned to stare at Okakura Take in disbelief. “You—you’re Okakura Take?!” His voice trembled with shock. It was beyond belief: this morning, the person sleeping beside him was the frightening girl with a ghostly face, and now, by afternoon, she had returned as a stunning beauty. It was incredible! Gintoki couldn’t quite process it. Hesitantly, he asked, “Are you really Okakura Take?”

“Gin-san, stop joking! Don’t you remember I once gave you strawberry milk? You idiot, we just saw each other this morning—how could you forget me by afternoon?! We even slept together, huddled up, for over a month!” Okakura Take snapped.

The surrounding Amanto all froze, watching the two idiots bicker.

“So it really is you! You can’t blame me—what’s up with you? Did you eat a celestial peach or something? How did you change so much?” Gintoki said, raising the blade in his hand toward Okakura Take. “Look at yourself—there’s no way I could recognize you!”

“Oh, come on,” Okakura Take muttered, leaning in to look—then she too was startled. “Who’s that?!”

“You, of course!”

“No way!” Okakura Take gasped, covering her face in disbelief.

At that moment, the Amanto around them, having had enough of the spectacle, raised their weapons and charged again. Gintoki quickly grabbed Okakura Take and pulled her out of harm’s way.

“Snap out of it—no matter what you look like now, you have to keep your wits about you. The most important thing is to stay alive!” Sakata Gintoki’s expression had turned grave and serious. Hearing his words, Okakura Take came back to herself. She realized the reason for her newfound beauty: for once in her life, she had found true love—only to lose it in the same breath.

So, true love wasn’t about mutual affection; it was having someone who truly loved you. And she—she had met such a person.

Thinking of the one who had betrayed everyone else, yet died to protect her, Okakura Take’s heart ached.

“Okakura, Kumamoto was a traitor, wasn’t he?” Suddenly, Sakata Gintoki voiced the question.

Okakura nodded. It was the truth.

Sakata said no more, returning to the fray, but the number of Amanto and shogunate soldiers kept swelling, while the ranks of the rebels thinned…

This can’t go on! Okakura Take looked up at the battleship floating in the sky and suddenly had an idea.

“Where are you going?” Gintoki managed to look back during a brief lull, only to see that the girl who had just been at his side was running into the distance. Then, he saw her turn and smile at him—a bright, carefree smile, as if she were out picnicking with him instead of standing on a battlefield.

Suddenly, Gintoki thought, Okakura Take really is beautiful!

Hearing Sakata’s shout, Okakura turned and smiled, signaling him not to worry. Then she ran to the largest tent in the camp, climbed atop it, and made her way to the center. Standing on the central pole, she watched as a plane approached overhead, drawing closer and closer…

At that instant, Okakura Take leaped out, grabbing hold of the plane’s landing gear. The Amanto pilot noticed her and began to swerve and climb erratically, tossing her about until she was almost sick. But she held on, because she saw the plane was carrying her ever nearer to her target.

At last, when the plane flew over the battleship, Okakura Take let go and fell.

“Okakura Take!” Gintoki below witnessed it all. He stared wide-eyed at the battleship, desperate and helpless; all he could do was slay the Amanto on the ground, powerless to save his old comrade.

Okakura did not hear Gintoki’s call. She crashed heavily onto the battleship’s deck, the hard steel nearly knocking the breath from her body. But she was, after all, the chief of the Ghost Shari clan. She stood up, straightening her back to face the countless Amanto closing in on her.

What she could not see was how her eyes now shone with the same firm, indomitable light as her father’s—so brilliant that not even the blood covering her face could dim it.

“Earth monkey, you’ve got guts, coming up here all by yourself.” A bizarre-looking Amanto jeered, while the others closed in, step by step.

Those familiar stares—malicious, savage, hateful, contemptuous, and most of all, murderous—had once made Okakura Take’s heart tremble. But now, after having killed so many, she felt nothing at all. She had seen these looks too many times before.

She had no words for them; she simply drew her blade to show her resolve.

Such a gesture only enraged the Amanto further. They all charged, a rain of blades, spears, and clubs descending upon her—yet when they struck, they found their target gone. Okakura Take had vanished.

Suddenly, the whole deck erupted in chaos, the Amanto scurrying like a hive of disturbed bees, scouring the ship for Okakura Take’s whereabouts.

Okakura Take hid in a quiet corner inside the ship, catching her breath. Her goal in coming here had never been to fight all the Amanto to the death, but to sabotage the cockpit. Yet once inside the battleship, she got lost; the place was enormous, and after only a few turns she had no idea where to go. The noise around her grew as more Amanto searched for her, so she hurriedly concealed herself deeper in the shadows.

Just as she was racking her brain for how to find the cockpit, a tentacled Amanto stumbled upon her, swinging a spiked club. Okakura Take promptly kicked him flying.

A wicked smile curled at her lips as she gazed at the fallen octopus-headed Amanto.

--- The Octopus-Catching Interlude ---

“Hurry up, or I’ll smash your little buddy down there!”

“No, please, I’ll take you! Just keep that club away from my—”

Having caught the octopus-headed Amanto, Okakura Take grabbed him by the collar, shook him awake, and pressed her club to his Armstrong cannon as a warning: if he tried to mislead her, his lower half would be the first to suffer.

The octopus-headed Amanto instantly caved, begging for mercy and promising to lead her to the cockpit. Though his upper half was different, his Armstrong cannon below was much like a human’s.

Thus, with the octopus-headed Amanto guiding her, Okakura Take made her way toward the cockpit. Along the way, the creature tried to trick her numerous times, but each time Okakura Take would brandish her club and smash things nearby. Witnessing her destructive power, the Amanto fell in line.

The cockpit was protected by a password and a door of super-titanium alloy, but to Okakura Take, this was a trivial obstacle—she had already smashed through countless alloy floors on her way here.

With a mighty swing, she smashed the door open. The Amanto piloting the ship turned in shock to see her.

Okakura Take flung the octopus-headed Amanto aside—he was now more of a hindrance than a help. The cockpit was semicircular and vast, lined with massive screens flickering with data she couldn’t understand, and below lay a dense array of buttons.

She had no interest in studying them; her only thought was to destroy.

She dashed in and smashed the keyboards to pieces. The Amanto pilots tried to stop her, but she sent them flying as well. Screens and panels shattered, exposed wires fizzled with tiny sparks, and the battleship began to shake violently.

“We’re in trouble! The ship’s going down!” a wolf-headed Amanto shrieked.

But there was nothing to be done; all the keyboards lay in ruins. The massive battleship was crippled, now nothing more than a heap of airborne scrap.

In that moment, Okakura Take felt immense satisfaction. Her purpose had been fulfilled—this would make things a little less grueling for her comrades below.

“Damn you for wrecking our battleship! Die!” At that moment, a crowd of Amanto stormed in, guns blazing.

Okakura Take dove away, rolling to dodge the gunfire. Then she reverted to an old trick: she grabbed a stunned Amanto from the floor and hurled him at the gunmen, knocking several down. Tearing a metal plate from the wall, she used it as a shield and charged out the door.

After escaping the cockpit, Okakura Take intended to find a quiet corner and go down with the ship—she would rather die in the explosion than by the Amanto’s blades.

But then she noticed a crowd of Amanto surging in a single direction. She quickly followed and discovered a hangar where a small escape shuttle was docked. The Amanto were preparing to flee the battleship.

The will to survive flared up in Okakura Take again. She no longer wished to die here—she decided to escape. Among the crowd, she spotted a familiar captive: the very octopus-headed Amanto she had just seized. She rushed over and grabbed him by the back of his neck.

“Hurry, get me out of here—or say goodbye to your lower half!”

“You again?!” The octopus-headed Amanto was nearly in tears; he hadn’t expected to run into this harbinger of disaster so soon after escaping her.

But with the ship about to crash, escape took precedence. The octopus-headed Amanto decided not to resist Okakura Take this time and obediently led her toward a small escape shuttle. To avoid trouble, Okakura Take hid her face behind the Amanto’s body as they wove through the throng, making their way to a tiny two-person escape craft.

It was a minuscule ship, just enough for two people, and now, with so many Amanto desperate to escape, any vessel—no matter how small—was a lifeline. A crowd had gathered, fighting for control of the little ship.

“What do we do?” the octopus-headed Amanto asked, glancing nervously at the melee. He was a logistics worker for the shuttle and had little combat ability. Okakura Take wanted to discard him again, but then thought: if she boarded the shuttle and couldn’t fly it, she’d crash for sure.

“Can you pilot this ship?” Okakura Take asked.

“Yes, yes, I’ve got my small craft license!”

“Good. Listen—when I take you aboard, don’t try any tricks, or else…” Okakura Take pressed her spiked club to his throat. The Amanto begged for mercy, “Don’t worry, I won’t, I swear!”

“Hmph, then come with me.” With that, Okakura Take charged into the fray, cutting through the Amanto like a force of nature, fighting her way to the escape shuttle. The octopus-headed Amanto followed, legs trembling. Watching the small figure in front of him, he felt a chill from the depths of his soul.

In that instant, he had the illusion that the one before him was a monster.

But Okakura Take paid his terror no mind. As she reached the shuttle, she called back, “Quick, open the hatch!”

“J-just press the blue button on the door,” the Amanto stammered.

Okakura Take turned, found the blue button, and pressed it. The hatch opened. She crawled inside, followed by the octopus-headed Amanto. Once both were inside, the hatch shut automatically—the ship’s AI would not allow it to launch with more than two aboard.

No sooner had they gotten in than a violent tremor shook the vessel. The battleship was dipping lower and lower.

“Launch, now!” Okakura Take barked.

“R-right,” the Amanto fumbled desperately with the controls. Soon, Okakura Take heard the shuttle’s engines ignite, and they began to rise, speeding through the launch corridor. At the end of the tunnel, she saw the familiar gray of the overcast sky—just a little farther.

At last, the shuttle reached the tunnel’s mouth, about to break free from the doomed ship. But in that instant, the battleship exploded. The shockwave sent their tiny craft tumbling, and, having forgotten to secure themselves, both Okakura Take and the Amanto were thrown violently against the ceiling.

…

The fierce impact knocked both Okakura Take and the octopus-headed Amanto unconscious, leaving only the shuttle’s indicator lights blinking in the silence.

A few minutes later, a mechanical female voice sounded inside the shuttle: “Manual control disengaged. In thirty seconds, autopilot will engage. Destination will be selected at random. Please provide instructions.”

But both occupants were unconscious, unable to respond. The mechanical voice began to count down.

“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five…”

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”

“Autopilot engaged. Coordinates: xxxxx…”

The shuttle shot away, carrying its two unconscious passengers—a human and an octopus-headed Amanto—into the vast expanse of space, leaving behind the smoke and fire of the blue planet.