Disclaimer: All the usual yada yada about Gintama doesn't belong to me

Credit: This fic wouldn't be as it is today without the awesome furiosity's unparalleled devotion in beta reading; also thanking Findegil for the first draft's grammatical checking

Warnings: Crack; non-romance; comedic nudity

Meet Takabeth, the Infiltrator Extraordinaire

"This isn't funny, old man." A ferocious snarl contorted Takasugi's face.

The director of the Gintama series took his time exhaling a puff of smoke from his cigarette before replying, "Does it look like I'm joking?"

Takasugi's eyes narrowed, and his menacing gaze met with a pair of glinting spectacles.

"The number of fans who vote for you has declined to less than half in the latest JUMP Character Popularity Poll. Because of this, Sorachi-sensei is considering alternate endings in which Sakamoto, Kamui, or maybe even a new character would play a major role. At this rate, you'll be forever gone from the center stage," Takamatsu explained.

Takasugi's fists clenched tight. Death, treachery, famine, natural disaster—he could laugh at them all; there were not many things in the Gintama world that could inspire fear in the Kiheitai leader's heart. Yet, popularity loss was one of these.

"Give me more airtime!" he demanded, grabbing the director's shirt just below the collar.

Takamatsu took his time patting the Elizabeth costume on the bench next to him and exhaled another puff of smoke before answering, "That's what I've called you here for."

The sight of the prepared costume twisted Takasugi's already sullen face into an even deeper scowl. "Even for the sake of gag, why am I condemned to that obscenely overweight getup? And do you seriously expect me to stay at Katsura's side even though that pansy bastard is on my top five most wanted murdered enemies list?"

"There's no other character to spare; Elizabeth is the only one who can be replaced without anyone else noticing—once, we even made the whole arc out of that, so don't complain!"

###

Takasugi Shinsuke's jaws worked furiously on a piece of mint gum. His fingers kept twitching towards the smoking pipe in the pocket of his kimono sleeve. It was a rule of thumb that when you did something enjoyable, time flew faster than wind through a butthole, but when you held back from your favorite thing, time dragged on.

The undercover work was about as far from giving Takasugi convenience as a snake was from having legs; nicotine abstinence was merely one of m-a-n-y examples, for it would be strange if smoke suddenly started to come out of Elizabeth's beak. At times like this, Takasugi opted for his favorite saying: "Soon Sakata Gintoki will be forgotten." His mumble assured him, droning in the style of what was supposed to be a revered prophet's manner of speaking, "You, on the contrary, will be promoted as the main character."

"Ready, Elizabeth?" Katsura asked as he came out from the bathroom.

Takasugi moved the bulky costume to reach for the remote control and press its off button. The TV screen died down midsentence at Ketsuno Ana's announcement about the long-anticipated release of a film about little people with hairy feet. He stood up and followed Katsura to the exit of the Joui headquarters, the thuds of his duck web against the tatami grating in his ears.

As soon as they stepped out of the doorframe, a wintry breeze blew past them, flapping Katsura's clothes and giving Takasugi a reprieve from Elizabeth's stifling suit. For the first time, Takasugi leaned how laborious Takamatsu Shinji's duties were, putting up with such a weighty costume six days a week. Still, that didn't mean the director couldn't piss him off.

"'Since the charismatic, serious way didn't work, we aim for gag this time', my ass!" Takasugi muttered under his breath; the costume—the ugly crossbreed between an oversized duck and an equally large penguin—felt heavier by the second. He snarled a few more swearwords as he strode.

Katsura halted and turned sideways. "Did you say something, Elizabeth?"

Hastily, Takasugi prepared one of Elizabeth's signboards. "No."

"Strange … I could have sworn I heard something. Oh, well." Katsura resumed walking.

Several road turns later, Katsura asked, "Did you know why I chose today as our day out?"

Takasugi shook Elizabeth's head with sweat-drenching strife; the doubt that this masquerade mess would be worth the effort was corroding him.

"Why, to execute my ultimate plan for the Shinsengumi's apocalypse, of course!"

Acting out Elizabeth's interest, Takasugi presented a signboard that said: "So, what's the plan?"

Katsura laughed. "I'll tell you that later."

They had just passed a guy in a Santa Claus costume distributing leaflets when an annoyingly familiar voice called Katsura's nickname.

As always, Katsura's trademark phrase came out: "Not 'Zura'; it's 'Katsura'!"

"Yeah, whatever. Take this with you and come inside," the Santa Claus, who turned out to be Sakata Gintoki, shoved a leaflet at the long-haired man.

Inside the Elizabeth costume, Takasugi reached for his side and prepared to slice Gintoki—the man who had not only made his plans go under during the Benizakura Arc, but had also made Bansai come a cropper during the Shinsengumi Crisis Arc—right then and there. Alas, Takasugi's fingers found empty air, for the katana lay in his room, back in the Kiheitai airship. Gritting his teeth, he looked around for an alternative murder tool. A nearby decorative fairy held a fifteen-inch wand made out of wire; one might use it as a garrote or at least poke that good-for-nothing silver-haired perm bastard in the eye.

Takasugi had almost reached the wire when the universe's logic, which unashamedly sided with Gintoki, bade him to stop: if the main character got injured or even died, the show would be cancelled and that would mean sayonara to Takasugi's career, wouldn't it? Hence, pulling a grimace inside the duck suit, Takasugi subdued his murder scheme.

Katsura eyed the leaflet in his hands. Printed in a large, bold font at the top was: ALL CAKES 50% OFF, TODAY ONLY. He didn't need to read the address below it, since the shop's entrance was obviously right behind Gintoki. The building was painted in bright colors and decorated with candy cane pillars, chocolate bar double doors, and cookie-like windows. On its walls were huge Styrofoam pieces of gingerbread men, toy soldiers, Christmas fairies, ribbon-festooned teddy bears, and white angels.

"It seems that the shop owner really goes all out for Christmas without calculating the possibilities of a sales deficit after spending so lavishly on decorations," Katsura commented. (Inside, the obese owner, who was on the till, sneezed twice.) "Still, I see no reason why I have to go inside," the Joui leader continued, "I have other things to do today and carrying cakes around will just get in the way."

"Don't be such a cheapskate, Zura," Gintoki insisted, pushing him inside. Then the part-time Santa whispered, "The owner promised me a free slice of strawberry shortcake for each ten customers I bring in. You don't actually have to buy anything; just take a look inside and make a fuss about them not having the flavor you want, then go away."

"Fine, but remember this: my name is Katsura."

"Sure thing, Zura." As he spoke, Gintoki dashed outside again to fish for the next customer.

Katsura spotted Kagura and Shinpachi near the cash register, both clad in Santa hats and red-and-green tartan aprons embroidered with the shop's name. He turned toward their direction, mouth opening to pronounce "Leader," but was forestalled by her intimidation on a prospective buyer.

Hands on the hips, Kagura confronted the lardy man waspishly, "The Triple Chocolate or Mocha Caramel one—make up your mind, wishy-washy!"

Shinpachi's face turned pale and he apologized to the customer straightaway, while the shop owner beckoned Kagura to follow her to the back of the shop—undoubtedly for a scolding.

Katsura threw his hair behind his shoulder, imitating the stereotypical pose in shampoo advertisements, even though his hair was nowhere near as lustrous. "Oh well, with the shop owner gone, we don't have any reason to stay. Let's go, Elizabeth."

Takasugi followed him quietly, casting one last murderous glare at Gintoki.

"Can you guess my strategy for the Shinsengumi's annihilation?" Katsura asked after the two of them were out of Gintoki's earshot.

To avoid shaking Elizabeth's cumbersome head, Takasugi used the "no" signboard this time.

Katsura told him, "According to Joui members A and B, whom I sent to spy on the Shinsengumi HQ yesterday, those useless Mibu wolves are holding a bazaar today. Surely they will be too busy to notice infiltrators among the crowding visitors. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Katsura's plans could range from slightly inconvenient to downright catastrophic, but since the Joui had turned the Shinsengumi's toilet paper rolls backwards last time, Katsura's whim could be just as trifling this time. And so, Takasugi lifted the signboard with the word "poop."

"Precisely!" Katsura exclaimed. "As expected from the perceptive Elizabeth!" Katsura turned his head, expression melding into a melodramatic beam—like a father proud of his son for winning a baseball game. He took out a plastic bag from the sleeve of his kimono and held it high. Despite its tight wrapping, the bag gave out a faint but unmistakably foul odor.

Katsura proclaimed, "Dog poop! This is what I went out to several parks this morning for." In the background, the filming crew inserted a "TA-DA!" sound effect.

Katsura spent thirty full seconds cackling in gloating triumph before explaining, "I'll put chunks of it on pieces of cardboard and rig every door in the place to drop poop on the head of everyone who enters! Ha ha ha!"

Taking a slow and deep breath, Takasugi repressed the urge to groan at his involvement in such an ass-splitting scenario.

The flame of enthusiasm burned in Katsura's eyes as he announced, "I call this ultimate technique Super Duper Whooper Alley-Ooper Fantastically Awesome Sparkly Formidable Heaven-Descending Rainbow Dragon Brilliantly Cunning Topsy-Turvy God-Knows-How Extraordinary Tupac Amaru Shakur Easy-Peasy Gorgeous Only One Eighth Accurate Speedy I'm Gonna F*ck Me a Fish Before I Die Yodel-Ay-Eee-Oooo Poopoopoopoopoopoop Gimme a Pay Raise and Kryptonite Booby Trap for Lazy Scatterbrains Who Love Hard-Boiled Rotten Eggs Topped with Ill-Smelling Blue Cheese and Withering Supposedly Organic Pest-Invested Cilantro. Admirable name, isn't it? I spent the whole night thinking about it."

Takasugi blinked, and then held up a "repeat that title" sign.

Five seconds of a pregnant pause preceded Katsura's stuttering answer, which turned out differently from the fourth word onwards, but at least he got the yodeling part right.

As they arrived at the next street, the two of them noticed an extremely long queue for the cinema.

Katsura said, "I heard about the long-awaited fantabulous movie that was finally screening yesterday. Maybe these people are desperate for a ticket to The Hobby."

"I'm sure it's called The Hobbies instead," Takasugi signed.

Katsura insisted, "No, no, no. The Hubby."

"It's The Boobies," Takasugi replied with Elizabeth's signboard.

"Elizabeth, I'm positive that it's called The Bubbly."

"The Cookies," the signboard stated.

"Look, Elizabeth, I'm absolutely certain that it is The Buccaneers of the Garibbean."

So engrossed in the debate were they that they paid no mind as they walked past the huge theatrical poster of a ring-bearing man in the midst of a wizard, a hideous CG creature, and a horde of dwarfs and elves.

It took no man or woman to end their pointless banter; the aroma of a freshly brewed noodle soup invaded both arguers' nostrils, beckoning them to enter the Hokuto Shinken ramen shop. "Well, warriors can't fight on empty stomachs," Katsura remarked with drool dribbling from the corners of his mouth. He then parted the crimson noren and entered with ease, but Takasugi bumped the side of Elizabeth's head with one of the flanking lanterns.

Katsura greeted, "Long time no see, Ikumatsu-dono."

"Only if you consider eleven days to be a long time," the shop proprietor replied. In spite of her sarcastic tone, her eyes bade them a welcome smile.

When the tonkotsu ramen was served, there was a pronounced meaty flavor to the creamy, decadent slow-cooked broth, which was emphasized by the richly marinated egg. The noodles, burnished with gold tint, had an elastic snap to them. The braised pork was so succulently tender that it felt almost dissipating on the tongue. The naruto had a silky texture. The seaweed was springy in consistency. The bamboo shoots had a pleasing chewiness. It was a harmony of ingredients in one bowl…

… until Takasugi spotted his archenemy.

There was a slice of scallion among the strands of noodle—one flyspeck green belly-shriveling monster. He lifted the large spoon from his soup and set it next to his bowl on the wooden table. Then he picked the piece of scallion out with his chopsticks and placed it on the spoon. Rather than continuing to eat, he stirred the noodle soup until he found more scallion shavings. Slowly, painstakingly, he discarded each bit one by one onto the spoon.

Noticing this odd behavior, Ikumatsu asked Elizabeth, "Hmm … scallions never bothered you before; why do you hate them now?"

Takasugi's breath hitched. He grabbed Elizabeth's signboard and quickly wrote: "It's essential that a warrior masters his patience, so I'm testing mine for now. Of course, I'll eat these scallions later."

Takasugi tried to eat more sluggishly, biting the pork slices in small pieces and slurping the soup longer than necessary. However, when the bowl of ramen had been emptied at last, any hope for redemption became tantamount to that of miracle. Takasugi closed his eyes, held his breath, and gulped the spoonful of scallions.

Then he excused himself to the toilet and threw up.

Katsura and Takasugi reached the Shinsengumi headquarters fifteen minutes after leaving the eatery, only to find their expectations betrayed: instead of a crowd of visitors, they saw only a teenage girl who was browsing the keychain stall accompanied by her bored-looking boyfriend, a group of youngsters who was about to nick the candies when the sellers weren't looking, a middle-aged housewife who was haggling over some secondhand crockery, a bunch of elderlies who requested the vendors to repeat every single word more loudly, an otaku who left as soon as he confirmed there were no Moe Moe Magical Girl figurines on sale, and a handful more around the stalls at the back.

As Katsura and Elizabeth hid by the walled gate of the headquarters, two passing pedestrians cast them suspicious looks and tried to keep their distance as far as possible. The little girl asked, "Mama, are those weirdoes what people call 'stalkers'?"

Her mother hushed her up and told her not to stare as she dragged her away with an Olympic sprinter's speed.

"Since there's no crowd to mingle with, it seems that today's infiltration won't be peaches and cream; we'll need even more extreme disguises than these." Katsura took out two items from his kimono sleeve: a bowler hat and a Groucho glasses. He handed the hat to Elizabeth. "This was originally for you."

Upon receiving the hat, which indisputably would look like an overgrown zit on Elizabeth's head, Takasugi's disbelieved look was beyond the count of skepticism. The humongous duck's suit concealed his expression, but it was there, in the drooping slant of his head and the sagging bent of his arms…

Next, Katsura procured a pizza delivery kit from the corner of the street, where the prop crew had prepared it in advance. Seeing that Katsura got the uniform and the pizza box was taller than Elizabeth, it was not hard to conclude what would happen to Takasugi. Soon enough, Katsura heaved the boxed Elizabeth onto a cart and pushed it into the HQ gate.

On the way to the main building, they heard one of the Shinsengumi vendors grumbling, "Damn that H*beep* movie! Everyone's too excited by it to come to our bazaar, even though we also have a play in addition to all these sales."

"Play? Did these moronic officers mistake a charity event for a school festival or something?" Katsura wondered as he directed his gaze at the stage in the center of the yard. Takasugi had to puncture two holes in the pizza box before he could peep.

No matter how many times Takasugi rubbed his eye, the view on the stage refused to modify itself into something less disturbing. A supposedly Amanto girl wearing a crown made of golden foil was standing face-to-face with a human-sized mayonnaise bottle. There were three bumps on the bust portion of the princess' gown instead of two.

Katsura let out a breathless murmur, "Why, in Justaway's name, does that stage performer possess three breasts? Does more mean better? Should I wear four fake ones while posing as Zurako?"

Takasugi ignored him; apparently, in the present circumstances, ignorance would be less disturbing than the truth.

On the stage, the Mayonnaise Man declared, "I won't let you invade the Mayonnaise Planet-mayo!"

There was a "Tch!" before the Princess of Badminton ripped off her gown to reveal Yamazaki in a blue-and-white Seigaku uniform. The fake princess took out a folded cap from the pocket of his shorts and took his time to wear it front-to-back. Only after he had heard a female spectator squealing did he resume his speech, "Now that it comes to this, I have no choice but to challenge you to a duel!"

The two of them circled each other and began exchanging a series of punches and kicks with blurring speed. The fake Princess of Badminton mocked his opponent as he swung his racket to deliver his famous Twist Serve.

The Prince of Mayonnaise, Mayora 13, negated the attack by cupping his hands behind his back, then bringing them to the front with arms outstretched, clamping the shuttlecock between his palms. In accordance with Shounen Jump's Ultimate Technique Rules of Revelation, he shouted the technique's name, "Mayo … mayo … RA!"

As much as both fighters would certainly claim to have all the proper visual effects accompanying their strikes, what actually happened required the roles of third parties: a backstage staff member maneuvered an electric fan so that its wind aided Yamazaki's badminton serve, while his colleague bathed Hijikata with blue light.

"Those copycats will be in trouble as soon as a Toriyama-sensei or Konomi-sensei's fan steps in and sues them," Katsura reckoned as he pushed the cart onto the wooden verandah. Through the holes, Takasugi glimpsed at the architectural features of Shinsengumi's HQ during their final moment of glory before the imminent doom of getting tarnished by dog poop. The building itself was almost empty, as most Shinsengumi members were holding the bazaar in the yard.

The two fighters on stage went on with their respective bankai; in other words, they employed more meaningless movements in a failed attempt to impress the tiny audience. A couple of minutes later, however, the steadily lessening number of spectators verified that these performers were the only ones who thought they were cool.

Arriving at a deserted hallway, Katsura remarked, "The coast is clear, Elizabeth. Now, you take half of the poop and scatter it on the west wing and I'll take the east. Here's a mask and a pair of protective gloves for Operation Super Duper Whooper … whatchamacallit."

But Elizabeth made no rustle to accept the items. In fact, the oversized box didn't budge at all.

"Elizabeth?" Katsura wedged the lid open, but the inside was empty. "Elizabeth, where are you?"

Meanwhile, Takasugi hid himself in the first empty room he had come across; no way in hell would he so much as touch the dog poop. He browsed the room and found a miscellany of reading materials under the kotatsu. His outstretched arm was hovering right above a gravure magazine when the thought of his new responsibility as a gag performer coerced him to pick the latest JUMP edition instead. After dragging a zabuton to one corner, he made himself comfortable with the pillow and began to read.

Takasugi was on the sixteenth page of a ninja battle manga when footsteps sounded outside the room. "Are you sure about this, ue-sama? The wintry weather can bring you sickness."

At the familiarity of the speaker's voice, Takasugi quickly scanned the room for a makeshift weapon—when that person mentioned "ue-sama," it could only refer to a certain individual whose demise would bring victory to the Kiheitai. After breaking the nearest vase and taking one of the shards, he parted the shoji a little to peep at who walked outside. The approaching figures of Matsudaira Katakuriko and Kondou Isao were flanking Shogun Tokugawa Shigeshige.

Or what remained of the ruler of Edo anyway.

The appearance of Tokugawa Shigeshige evaporated Takasugi's lust for blood. For a start, the shogun didn't wear his usual chonmage; his hair was braided on both sides, right underneath each ear, and this, together with his shaved peat, left him with the appearance of a female-wannabe kappa minus the turtle shell. The bad news was that the said kappa wore an apron.

The worse news: the kappa wore only an apron.

Shogun's taut-muscled chest and burly thighs were pushing against the skimpy apron … though these were nowhere near as nightmarish as the vision revealed after Tokugawa turned left toward the stage: the dark crack between the twin buns underneath the tied apron's strings.

Was some hallucinatory virus in cahoots with tricks of the light to contaminate his mind? Takasugi thanked heaven that he hadn't eaten anything after the ramen; otherwise, he might have ended up puking again.

Kondou implored, "Really, ue-sama, there's no need to trouble yourself with this … uh, unbecoming appearance."

With majestic dignity, the shogun replied, "I could not simply turn a blind eye when I heard the officer who was supposed to play the princess' elder sister was bedridden with a grave ailment. What sort of ruler am I if I refuse to help you, good citizens of Edo, in times of need? Please, put all the formalities aside and call me 'Shou-chan,' for I have only come here thus to see the so-called 'Christmas bazaar.'"

"E-even so, the apron is supposed to be worn over normal clo—"

Before the Shinsengumi commander managed to finish his explanation, Matsudaira pinched Kondou's face between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to shut up, and whispered urgently, "Ssh! No more words. Nothing we say would make an impact at this rate. Worse, you could even embarrass the shogun."

"What were you saying, Kondou-san?" Tokugawa asked.

"N-nothing," Kondou replied with a strained grin.

Matsudaira pulled Kondou close to him and whispered, "The shogun will not be humiliated alone. Each member of the Shinsengumi must wear the same thing. Go, tell your men!"

A flash of surprise flickered in Kondou's eyes and he made a whimper-like sound, but he complied and scurried on his way.

Matsudaira made sure Kondou had disappeared from sight before he started undressing himself, leaving his military uniform scattered on the verandah.

Takasugi was drenched with cold sweat; the sight before him made him wish that he had lost both eyes in the war all those years ago. At least, the agony would have bothered him just back then, rather than having the current horror—too unspeakable to describe—haunt him for the remainder of his life.

But the excruciated man filed his trouble away to be complained about to the anime director at a later date.

Kondou's relay of Matsudaira's precept resounded from afar. The troops whined upon hearing the order to strip in such wintry weather, but their attitude changed once the shogun and the police superintendent made their appearance on stage.

Terror reigned. Within ten seconds, everyone was naked. They knew what punishment the God of Destruction Matsudaira would inflict upon their sorry asses—and if, by some miracle, he didn't do it to them, he'd do it to their families, and as well to anyone those families had ever shared a park bench with.

At the sight of the men shivering with both shame and cold, Matsudaira's lips curved upwards. This was more like it. They feared him; just look at those terror-stricken gazes and chattering teeth. None of them could keep their composure.

Bar one exception: Sougo Okita.

Apathy was how Okita handled bad news, so-so news, good news, and not-really-new news. All news, really. So, after stripping with an unperturbed expression, he turned around and declared in a monotone, "Cameramen over there, make sure to shoot from various angles. This will make excellent material for the rare-edition DVD and poster collections that are guaranteed to make several fujoshi swoon in delight." Then he added, more casually still, "I suppose being led by a perverted commander also has its merits."

Kondou folded his arms—not that he was actually offended; but the pose was helpful to keep him a bit warmer in this frigging cold. "Hey, that's uncalled for." He tried, albeit unconvincingly, to sound as angry as possible, "I'm as much a victim as all of you here. Besides, those in charge of the production may end up pixelating our thingies."

"You speak with the wisdom of true experience, Kondou-san."

Without knowing that he was the reason for the jury-rigged Nudists' Day, Tokugawa asked the Shinsengumi members, "Gentlemen, why are you disrobing?"

Matsudaira, who had come down from the stage, approached a random officer and whispered just behind the man's nape, "Let's make a deal, miscreant: If you don't voice a whiny comment that will put your squad to shame, I'll secure you an all-you-can-eat BBQ voucher. How's that?"

The officer nodded weakly and answered the shogun's question, "We, the Shinsengumi, have sworn to follow your step, sir, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

"Ugh, spare us your wedding vow!" a member of the second squad yelled.

Snot began to dribble from the shogun's nostrils.

"Ooh, ue-sama is touched by our devotion," a member of the fourth squad commented.

"No, he's sad!" a third squad member insisted.

Tokugawa sniffed. "I'm actually cold. A-a-achoo!"

"Hey, I have an idea!" another voice shouted, "Why don't we wrap up the play, don our clothes, and roast some chestnuts on an open fire?"

The Shinsengumi members exchanged looks, but then they all shouted back, "AGREED!"

Meanwhile, the pedestrians stared at a white penguin-like alien duck who had to lean on the walls outside the Shinsengumi HQ to support its wobbly body as it crept along the street. The lobotomized duck was muttering as it staggered: "Butts … men's butts … the smelliest … the bumpiest … the hairiest … the filthiest…"

Rain tumbled down. Pedestrians scurried their ways to find shelters, but one remained. Balling his fists, Takasugi looked at the murky sky and cursed, "Damn Katsura; that sly son of a bitch cheated bad luck by removing himself from the scene before the macabre began!"

But the said son of the bitch greeted the energy-drained Takasugi with a "mission accomplished" smile as soon as he reached the Joui HQ. "Welcome home, Elizabeth. I was looking for you all over Edo. Where have you been?"

Gritting his teeth, Takasugi left with only one thing on his mind: he would beat the crap out of Takamatsu until that director fucking felt the shit he had put Takasugi through.

###

"Takamatsu-san," one of the filming crew called. "There's been a mistake with the popularity poll. The character whose popularity has decreased isn't Takasugi Shinsuke; it's this one." She pointed at the line right above Takasugi's name on the questionnaire.

The director gulped; of all the crew he hired, Takasugi's actor had the foulest temper and a diploma of eighth dan in kendo.

"TAKAMATSUUUU!"

At the savage bellow of his name, the director turned around. In his pupils was reflected the figure of a man in lilac and yellow kimono storming at him with a brandished katana.

THE END

OMAKE

"Not fair! You got the biggest slice, Gin-chan."

"Kagura, you see things that way because of the perspective illusion. Look, they're of exactly the same size."

"No way! They're clearly different. Right, Sadaharu?"

"Woof."

"Oi, you can't rely on Sadaharu's verdict; dogs' best asset isn't their sight, but smell."

The redhead pouted. "If they're the same, there should be no problem if we swap."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, I'm an adult and adults need more calories than kids do."

"So, you admit that your portion is bigger?"

With a sigh, Shinpachi admonished them, "You two, stop fighting over the lone slice of strawberry shortcake. In the end, the shop owner gave it to us even though we didn't manage to attract ten customers; we should be thankful and—"

In unison, Gintoki and Kagura shouted, "Shut up, glasses boy! You'll get the cut at that edge."

Shinpachi burst into an outcry, "As if! That's definitely the smallest of all!"

"What are you making such a ruckus for? I can even hear your bickering from outside."

The familiar calm voice filled the Yorozuya living room almost simultaneously with the sliding on the shoji rail. The Yorozuya quartet found themselves face-to-face with the intruder: a long-haired man in teal kimono and white haori.

"Zura!" the three cried out in recognition, overlapped with a single bark from Sadaharu.

"Not 'Zura'; it's 'Katsura.'" But Katsura quickly turned to pet Sadaharu's fluffy fur, cooing and grinning idiotically, "Ooh, Sadaharu-dono~"

"Why are you here? Heck, you didn't even knock!"

"I did, but your squabbles were too loud that you couldn't even hear me. Thus, I took the liberty to admit myself."

"Anyway, what brings you here today?" Gintoki asked as he picked his nose.

"Ah yes, that reminds me I'm here for an emergency request."

"Let me guess…" Gintoki blew the booger on his pinky. "You couldn't lay your hand on the latest JUMP edition and came here to borrow mine?"

"Gin-san, stop mixing up your emergency with others'!" Shinpachi interrupted with veins of anger protruding on his face.

Katsura cleared his throat. "Actually, I heard that the entire Shinsengumi squad is currently watching The H*beep*. It wasn't easy to get tickets for such a large number, but Matsudaira Katakuriko used the shogun's authority to take the Shinsengumi to the movies. Many Tolk*beep*'s fans were complaining because they were kicked to the curb after patiently queuing for so long."

Gintoki picked his ear this time. "And your point is?"

"There's no better time to shower them with poop than now!" Katsura beamed. "Ah, but I'm out of stock on dogs' litter, so this time we'll use humans'. Imagine this: those Shinsengumi fools' attentions are all focused to the screen and we can creep to the ceiling to—"

"Request declined," Gintoki said flatly, "Sadaharu, it's time to take out the garbage."

Biting the man's haori like a tabby cat carrying her kitten, Sadaharu lifted Katsura and then left him on the street.

OWARI