[Gintama] Immortal

She hasn't had it for a long time, repeating the days of just waking up and going to sleep again.

After the little girl who gave her name passed away, in the first few decades, she fulfilled the agreement and took care of the small mountain village diligently.

The human beings who have been rooted in this land for generations, the focus of life and even the values ​​and customs revolve around the cultivation of rice.People work at sunrise and rest at sunset, plant seeds in spring, and harvest in autumn. They follow ancient traditions to perform sacrificial ceremonies, and dance around the burning bonfire to celebrate.

The little girl's child had a child, and that child gave birth to a new life after forming its own family.

Her beloved bloodline has continued from generation to generation, and she has watched those humans multiply and thrive on this land day after day, year after year.

The golden ginkgo covered the ground, and returned to the familiar branches in the coming year. The snow covered the world and turned into water and poured into the river.

The ancient cherry blossoms next to the shrine bloomed and fell, and countless seasons passed away. I don’t know when the steps leading to the shrine were covered with moss, and the old black shrine was covered by weeds. nest.

One day, as usual, she walked to the familiar tomb again.

The small dirt bag disappeared, and the grass covered the land that had been turned over and filled in - the last trace of the other party in this world has also been erased by time.

The fluffy wild flowers swayed lightly in the wind. It seemed to be dawn and evening at the time.

She lay down next to the non-existent little dirt bag.

Touching the ground, curled up sideways - the closer to the ground the better - and lay down.

She couldn't smell the fishy smell of the soil, and couldn't feel the slight itching of the grass brushing her cheeks.

It is said that after a person dies, it is the abdomen that begins to rot first.

After that, the hair and nails fell off, the flesh and blood peeled off the skeleton, and the body turned into loess and dry bones—until there was nothing left.

... No one in this world remembers the little girl who laughed and called her "Yae".

She lay there on the ground for a long time.

……not here.

The person she missed, the person she had missed every day for nearly a hundred years, was nowhere to be found.

She returned to the shrine in the deep mountains that was forgotten by the world, and after so many years of diligently inspecting the village, she decided to take a vacation for herself.

Before I closed my eyes, the ancient cherry blossoms beside the shrine were hanging thick and beautiful branches. When I opened my eyes again, the world had been covered in white snow.

The world turns from spring to winter, and after entering golden autumn, it becomes midsummer in the blink of an eye.

She let the seasons turn upside down, and the moss climbed the stone steps where no one came.

The darkness where there is nothing and even time does not exist is so reassuring. She wakes up and sleeps, actively sabotages work with confidence, and skips work every day with peace of mind, until one day the villagers who stole the shrine’s property stumbled and fell. Down the cliff, the only person she cared about moved away with her family and has since disappeared.

——She didn't intend to wake up again.

Being awake every day was such a troublesome thing, she nestled peacefully in the darkness where there was nothing, and planned to sleep in it for the rest of her life.

Until one day she suddenly woke up from the darkness of nothingness, and under the guidance of the crows, she met a young man called a "ghost" by humans.

The dusk was slanting in the sky, the boy with scarlet eyes looked at her, his voice was as dry as if it hadn't been wet for decades.

—You are not human.

It had been a long, long time since she had spoken to anyone.

……

A figure shrouded in candlelight is writing a lesson plan.

With long light-colored hair hanging over his shoulders, Matsuyo sat in front of the desk in a haori drape, writing for a while and stopping for a while, with a slender and fair hand holding the pen, his eyelashes drooping slightly when he was thinking seriously, and his focused expression looked extraordinarily gentle in the candlelight .

Yae nestled in the quilt, and has been looking at him silently since waking up.

In the Japanese room, there are only the soft rustle of Shoyang writing, and the crackling sound of candles burning quietly in the moonless night.

The teacher with gentle eyebrows and the leader of Amaterasu Institute Naraku are like day and night, light and shadow, no matter how you look at it, it is difficult to directly connect the two.

After a while, the writing action paused slightly, and Songyang turned his head, with a smile in his voice:

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

Obviously had noticed her for a long time.

Yae didn't make a sound for a while, just looked at him quietly.

The candlelight flickered quietly, reflecting softly and hazyly in her eyes.

Slightly suppressing the smile on his lips, Songyang put down his pen, got up and came to her side.

"Where is it uncomfortable?" His eyes were full of concern.

Yae stretched out his hand and touched his face lightly, as if to confirm something, after a pause, he raised his hand to caress his eyebrows.

"... Yae?"

Her fingertips touched the warm body temperature and soft skin. She carefully followed the eyebrows to the bridge of the nose, and from the bridge of the nose to the lips, touching his face very gently.

She has seen this face stained with blood, seen this face hidden behind a pitch-black mask, and seen this face where the bone-deep knife wound healed in an instant, and was scorched until it was scorched black, exposing the fleshy skin underneath. Instantly recovered.

There will be a gentle expression and a smiling face. This is a miraculous transformation that has only happened in the past ten years.

Songyang lowered his eyes, and when she was about to withdraw, he suddenly held her hand.

The light-colored hair fell on the back of his hand, and it was slightly itchy. The look in Songyang's eyes was so gentle that it seemed to melt. He held her hand that was still attached to his face, and put his head in her palm. Slightly kissed.

"What's wrong, Yae?"

She was dazed.

In the past, she studied those boring and obscure Buddhist scriptures with humility, and went far on the road where all beings are reincarnated and everything is empty. After reading it for a long time, even when it was still late at night, she would often press her hand on the scriptures in front of him.

When he pretended not to see, she would deliberately sway in front of his eyes, and she almost put her hand in front of his crow mask.

—Anyway, he couldn't cut her down.

But now she suddenly realized that those boring and childish actions...may just be because she has always, always hoped that someone could hold her hand like this.

Although it was impossible in the past, but now that this wish is fulfilled, she doesn't want to move at all, she just wants to stay quietly next to this warmth.

"……nothing."

Yae came back to his senses.

She smiled and withdrew her hand: "Don't worry about me, you can go back and write."

Becoming a teacher is a process of gradual adaptation. When Songxia Village School was first established, Songyang stayed at his desk until late at night every day in order to compile textbooks, picking, deleting, deleting, and modifying. There were all kinds of books piled up around him. When the tea came in, he would drag him to ask for his opinion.

Several times she fell asleep during this process, and when she woke up, she found that the candle had burned to the tail wick. Songyang was still sitting at the desk, and when she was deep in thought, the brush that poked her cheek was reversed and she didn't notice it. It's all funny ink.

When she laughed out loud, Songyang would laugh along with her, and then asked her innocently after laughing:

"what happened?"

Thinking of these memories, soft emotions flooded my heart uncontrollably.

Lying on the bed, Yae looked at Songyang, with a smile in her eyes, she suddenly said: "I like to see you working hard as a teacher."

Just as he was about to pick up the pen again, Songyang sat in front of the desk, the tip of the pen hanging above the washi paper remained motionless, the ink-colored water droplets slowly condensed into granules, and with a click, they fell on the white paper and melted into soft a bunch of.

After a while, he put down his pen and extinguished the only candle in the Japanese room.

The night fell like a veil, and Yae raised her face slightly:

"You don't write anymore?"

"Well, I won't write, because I don't have the mind to write." In the darkness, Songyang's voice was full of laughter.

Yae moved to the pillow on the other side with a helpless look, and she lifted a corner of the quilt: "There is no way, then I will give you half of my fortress."

Her vision hadn't adapted to the darkness yet, and the soft rustling of cloth came from her ears. She felt that there was another person beside her, so she naturally leaned over and pressed herself into Songyang's arms to keep warm.

The function of this body is getting worse and worse. Although the weather is not cold yet, my hands and feet always feel cold.

Songyang stretched out his hand to hold her closer in his arms, lowered his head slightly and said with a smile:

"Your fortress?"

"...Like this." Yae pulled up the quilt to cover the heads of the two, "At times like this, you should secretly use the flashlight under the quilt."

The quilt for the two of them was very small, and she could feel Songyang's chest shaking with his laughter. "Then what?"

"Then when I heard footsteps outside the room, I quickly turned off the flashlight and pretended to be asleep. This is the fun of staying up late to read comics."

"...Well, what if there is no surprise inspection?"

"Then pretend someone made a surprise inspection."

The two of them hid under the quilt together, and the night outside was quiet, as thick as ink that could not be melted.

"Did Yinshi fall asleep again in class today?"

"Well, fell asleep again."

"Did you get into a fight with Jinsuke?"

"Fortunately, I was held back by Kotaro."

"What's the current score?"

"It seems to be 110 three wins versus 110 four losses."

Songyang told her what happened today one by one, Yae suddenly paused, narrowed his eyes slightly: "Why do you feel like you are treating me like a child."

Songyang: "Aren't you only seven years old?"

Yae: "...Then what are you? Old man?"

Songyang's chuckle came from the darkness, he thought for a moment: "I am indeed an old man."

"...Old man Songyang?"

"Yes, old man Songyang."

Yae didn't dare to laugh too loudly, these days she always felt like there was a sweet blood clot in her throat, she spoke softer than before, and it would be no fun to spit out a mouthful of blood with a smile.

This body is currently maintaining a very fragile balance, and the slightest factor may cause an avalanche of chaos.

Enough of the low-pitched laughter, Yae rested her head on Shoyang's neck.

She found that human females are fine when they are relatively petite, and they can huddle in each other's arms when warming up.

As if tiredness welled up from his bones, Yazhong breathed lightly, and just rested in Songyang's arms.

After a moment of silence, she whispered:

"Songyang?"

The voice that fell on her ear was very gentle: "I am here."

Yae found that she seemed to be thanking people non-stop recently.

"Thank you."

Closing her eyes with peace of mind, her voice was soft and soft, like a whisper:

"Thank you for being Songyang."

These seven years are her happiest seven years.

The longest and shortest seven years.

There was no sound in the darkness for a long time.

When she fell asleep leaning against Songyang's arms, she vaguely seemed to hear someone talking.

...you must be back soon.

His voice was always gentle and smiling, as if he was desperately suppressing something.

--do not leave me.

……do not leave me".

The author has something to say:

The next chapter ends the private school period

The next period of anti-barbarians is quite short, about a few chapters, so please rest assured _(:з」∠)_