Chapter 46: Silver Soul (Earth Chapter)

Okakura Take was much shorter than Gintoki, yet the way she encircled him now made Gintoki feel inexplicably small.

“Gin-san, you must have a lot of expenses at your place. Kagura is a Yato, her appetite must be enormous, and that big dog must eat a lot too. All in all, I suppose Shinpachi is probably the most frugal among you,” Okakura Take said.

Gintoki was silent—she wasn’t wrong, and Shinpachi did have the qualities of a good housewife.

“Just consider this as me helping an old friend, Gin-san,” Okakura Take said as she patted the unruly curls on Gintoki’s head; the sensation was quite pleasant.

“Kid, since when did you grow up?” Gintoki suddenly lowered his head and murmured.

Gazing into those crimson eyes and seeing her own reflection, Okakura Take’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes are quite beautiful, she thought…

Flustered, Okakura Take quickly released his arm and turned away. “Don’t think everyone’s as hopeless as you are.”

A large, warm hand landed on her head—Gintoki’s fingers, gently ruffling her hair.

“Gin-san, I just saw you picking your nose,” Okakura Take remarked.

Gintoki nonchalantly brushed off his hands. “Don’t worry, I just picked at it, didn’t really get anything out. Somehow it’s become a habit, and if I don’t, I feel uneasy. Must be the magnetic pull of my nostrils.”

Okakura Take was speechless.

She must have been hallucinating when she thought his eyes were nice just now!

“I’m off then, Gin-san. Tomorrow at nine in the morning, bring Kagura and Shinpachi. Don’t be late,” Okakura Take instructed.

“I’ve got it. Honestly, I haven’t even started working for you and you’re already acting like my boss. You really are used to being in charge,” Gintoki replied, scratching his unruly hair.

“Don’t forget, back when you were my superior, I used to remind you every day not to oversleep, not to be late. Gin-san, I have no faith in your sense of responsibility.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be late tomorrow morning.”

Hearing this promise, Okakura Take felt reassured. Even Gin-san must have made some progress by now—he’d keep his word, surely.

…Or so she thought.

The next morning at eleven thirty, Okakura Take sat in her office, exasperated. Which idiot swore yesterday that he wouldn’t be late? It’s been over two hours!

Knock, knock, knock—her office door was rapped.

“Come in,” Okakura Take called.

Fishhead Osei entered, leading in the three latecomers.

“Yo, sorry, we accidentally lost our way on the road of life…” Gintoki said sheepishly.

“Even if your hair is the same color, don’t copy my excuses!” Okakura Take said, veins popping on her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Miss Okakura, please don’t be angry,” Shinpachi hurried to apologize.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done. Since you’re here, we’ll start work in the afternoon. It’s just about lunchtime now, so let’s eat together,” Okakura Take said, resting her head on her hand.

“Yahoo! Wonderful, we can eat!” Kagura cheered.

Clearly, that curly-haired fool never feeds this child enough!

“Come on, I’ll take you to the cafeteria,” Okakura Take said, leading the trio out of her office.

As they walked, many members of the Allied Auxiliary Police greeted Okakura Take and curiously eyed the three following her.

“There really are all kinds of aliens here, Miss Okakura,” Shinpachi remarked.

“About twenty different alien races, I suppose,” Okakura Take replied.

“Miss Okakura, if you’re an Earthling, why are you working here?” Shinpachi asked, curious, with Kagura leaning in as well.

“Well, I once smuggled myself to another planet, was saved by someone important there, and then kept getting promoted until I became a director. Eventually, I returned here,” Okakura Take said with a smile.

“How nice. I also smuggled myself to Earth, but all I met were afro-heads and useless curly-haired layabouts. My luck is terrible,” Kagura sighed.

“Hey, you’re talking about me, aren’t you, Gin-san? Ungrateful brat, have you forgotten who’s been feeding and housing you?” Gintoki squinted his dull, dead-fish eyes.

“That must have been tough,” Okakura Take said, her words carrying a double meaning, though it wasn’t clear for whom.

They arrived at the cafeteria, and at the sight of the grand dining hall, the three from the Odd Jobs House had stars in their eyes.

So fancy!

“Welcome,” intoned two rows of maids at the entrance.

“Come on, it’s just a cafeteria meal. Isn’t this a bit much?” Gintoki complained, surveying the luxurious décor with envy and resentment.

“I agree it should be simpler, but some of the aliens here are nobles from other planets, so they insist the cafeteria be first-rate,” Okakura Take explained.

“Director Okakura, your usual table?” a maid asked.

“Yes,” Okakura Take nodded.

Led by the maid, the Odd Jobs trio and Okakura Take ascended to the second floor. Only about a dozen people were dining; it was exceptionally quiet, not a whisper to be heard.

Seated by the window, they received menus. Okakura Take told them to order whatever they liked.

“I’ll have everything on the menu!” Kagura declared with a sweep of her small hand.

“I’ll take everything from pages one to three, and six to eight,” Gintoki told the maid.

Just “these”? That’s a mountain of food! Shinpachi felt awkward as even some aliens at nearby tables turned to stare.

“Miss Okakura, are we causing you trouble?” Shinpachi asked nervously.

“It’s fine. At worst, I’ll just get fired,” Okakura Take replied.

Shinpachi’s anxiety only grew.

“Don’t worry, order what you like, Shinpachi.”

“Thank you,” Shinpachi said, ordering a few dishes himself.

Okakura Take ordered as well and handed the menu back to the maid.

Food came quickly, with appetizers served first. Gintoki and Kagura dived in like ravenous wolves.

“Mmm, delicious! Gin-chan, that’s mine! Don’t steal my food!” Kagura shouted, shoving Gintoki’s head into an empty plate.

“When did it all become yours? I ordered plenty too!” Gintoki retorted, scooping several dishes into his mouth with a fork.

“Would you two knock it off? Can’t you eat like civilized people?” Shinpachi shouted in frustration.

“Shut up, four-eyes. Haven’t you heard of ‘the dinner table is a battlefield’?” Kagura sneered.

Shinpachi’s veins bulged in annoyance, and soon he was fighting for food as well.

They really do seem like they haven’t eaten in ages… Okakura Take sighed, but eating with a crowd was lively, at least.

Suddenly, she noticed a piece of fried pork cutlet had vanished from her bowl…

Boom! A deafening bolt of lightning seemed to crash in Okakura Take’s mind. No one can steal her pork cutlet!

She grabbed the curly-haired one’s face with a sinister grin. “Was it you who took my pork cutlet just now?”

“Uh…” Gintoki tried to recall. He might’ve accidentally speared a piece from her bowl.

“S-sorry,” Gintoki mumbled, his face distorted in her grip.

“Next time, stay away from my pork cutlet. The rest is fair game,” Okakura Take said with a smile, though a dangerous glint flashed in her eyes.

“Understood! I’ll never touch your pork cutlet again, Director!” Gintoki earnestly apologized.

“Haha, birds of a feather, aren’t you? Lowly monkeys should stick together. Even your eating is equally hideous,” sneered several aliens with sucker-like mouths.

The lively meal abruptly ceased. Okakura Take’s group knew those aliens were mocking them.

“Honestly, no table manners at all. But that’s to be expected; monkeys have such short mouths, of course eating looks ugly,” one of them said, glancing their way.

One of the aliens even tossed a steak onto the floor.

“Oh dear, dropped my meat. I wonder if the monkeys will pick it up and eat it?”

Okakura Take eyed the speakers coldly. They were Tuka aliens, with three straw-like sucker mouths. They didn’t chew but crushed food with their mouth muscles before sucking it in, a method they took great pride in.

Suddenly, one of the Tuka aliens screamed—Okakura Take saw a silver fork jammed into his mouth.

“Sorry, looks like my fork slipped over there. Can’t be helped, I’ve never had table manners,” Gintoki said, rising and calmly approaching their table.

“You bastard, you did that on purpose!” the alien fumed.

“No, honest mistake. I’m just here to retrieve my fork,” Gintoki replied, pulling the utensil from the alien’s mouth.

The alien howled again, clutching his bleeding sucker mouth.

“Monkey, you dare hurt one of us? Do you want to die?” The other Tuka aliens drew knives on Gintoki.

At that moment, another fork flew and stuck into one of their mouths.

Okakura Take walked over, smiling. “Sorry, the forks seem slick today, must not have been washed properly.”

As she spoke, two more forks sailed across the room.

Three Tuka aliens, now hit, wailed in pain.

“Sorry, the forks are just too slippery,” Kagura said, gnawing on a chicken leg.

“Mine, too,” Shinpachi said, pushing up his glinting glasses.

“Ha, so sorry for the trouble. You see, it’s just a little accident. Let’s not make a fuss,” Okakura Take said to the Tuka aliens.

“Accident? You did this on purpose!” one of them roared.

With a wave, Okakura Take yanked out the three forks.

The three Tuka aliens clutched their mouths and collapsed.

“See? There’s still grease on these forks. I’ll have the kitchen wash them properly later,” she said, holding them up.

“Damn you! You think being a higher rank than me gives you the right to be smug? Go to hell!” A Tuka alien whipped out a pistol and fired at Okakura Take.

Damn! Too close. As Okakura Take prepared to dodge, a fork intercepted the bullet, which lodged itself in the silver prongs, smoke still curling from it.

Gin-san!

Okakura Take saw the curly-haired man toss the fork to the ground, his crimson eyes cold and dangerous—just like the Shiroyasha of old.

“No good. I said, the forks are just too slippery,” his usually lazy voice now deep and chilling.

Okakura Take quickly grabbed his hand, meeting Gintoki’s eyes and shaking her head. Just a little lesson is enough—don’t escalate things, or a diplomatic incident could erupt between Earth and planet Tuka.

“I’m sorry, Gin-san, bear with it,” she whispered gently.

Gintoki lowered his head, sighed, and his fierce expression faded back to apathy.

“All right,” he said, resigned.

Okakura Take turned to the gun-wielding alien. “Barbie-barbie, if I recall, Allied Auxiliary Police Rule 130 forbids shooting at colleagues. Violators are expelled. Haven’t you broken the rules?”

The Tuka alien’s face darkened.

“Sorry, Director Okakura,” he said, stressing the last two words.

“No problem. Next time, keep your gun holstered,” Okakura Take replied coldly.

“Hmph!” Barbie-barbie snorted and left the dining hall with his companions.

As he passed, Okakura Take heard him mutter, “Earth monkeys should just go back to climbing trees.”

She turned to see his chilling glare. Seems she’d made an enemy.

Okakura Take raised her middle finger with a snort. She’d never feared provocation; long ago, she’d accepted she might not live to see tomorrow.