Chocolate Revolution (part 2)
Fandom: Gintama Characters: Mutsu/Kijima Matako Rating: General Audiences Warnings: n/a Notes: you know i had to do it to ‘em
Summary: Matako does something for Valentine’s Day for the first time in her life and Mutsu begins to understand this Earth’s tradition.
Part 1 | Read on AO3
Ever since the end of the war, Matako found days to be tedious and way too long. Back in the day, during the time the Kiheitai spent on Earth she would mostly be occupied by watching Shinsuke-sama’s back and keeping the rest of the crew in check. On empty days, especially those spent traveling through space, she would kill time following Takechi-senpai around as he came up with and overlooked the Kiheitai’s strategies, or relax listening to Bansai-senpai’s music. But now she had almost nothing to do. There was no big ship to command, no men to guide. Just the four of them in a small house on the outskirts of Edo, having moved on from trying to destroy and burn it to the ground, to trying to help create a better future where past mistakes wouldn’t be repeated.
While helping manage the reconstruction required a lot of work and meetings with so and so, it somehow left Matako with more free time than she was accustomed to, especially once the other members of the Kiheitai started having their own affairs to tend without her, and she was running out of things to do. It hadn’t been until recently that she’d began to explore new interests, after Shiroyasha’s little brat had somehow managed to drag her and Imai Nobume around the city, telling them about all her friends in Edo and the adventures she’d had with the Yorozuya. Since then she had taken a liking to walking around the city and looking at all the different stores. And in a way she also considered the brat and Nobume as her friends, which had also opened the door to her getting to know others outside the Kiheitai.
It was while walking through the shopping district that a sign caught her attention. On it, the store announced its upcoming promotions for Valentine’s Day customized sweets. Maybe it was because just earlier she had been informed about the next meeting, but what crossed her mind after seeing the heart-shaped boxes with assortments of different kinds of chocolate was the face of the Kaientai’s vice-captain — or at least that’s what she told herself. Sure, that was not the first time Mutsu had appeared in her thoughts that day, but it was not the only thing she had been thinking about, and this was just a coincidence. There was no correlation between this and Valentine’s Day, she didn’t even care about the festivity.
From what she could remember, Valentine’s Day wasn’t a thing back when she was a child. It didn’t even exist in the country before the Amanto first invaded, and it took many years for it to really catch on with the locals. By the time it became a popular celebration, Matako was already part of the Kiheitai, too invested in them to pay attention to silly foreign traditions. Maybe if she had been into it, her younger self would’ve made chocolates for Shinsuke-sama at some point, but that never happened, and those feelings seemed so far away now. She no longer saw him under that light, these days her heart sped up at the sight of… She stopped that train of thought before it moved any further, but then she noticed, she had already bought a confectionery book.
Well, nowadays it was common to give friendship chocolates as well, right? Not everyone giving things for Valentine’s Day had romantic interests in mind. A small treat for the rest of the Kiheitai would be understandable. Maybe she could also give something to Nobume and to the little brat, as a thank you for having been so surprisingly welcoming to her.
After finding a recipe that seemed appealing and buying all the utensils and way more ingredients than she probably needed (just in case things went wrong and she had to start all over again), she chose a free day where everyone else would be out of the house and focused entirely on her task.
On Valentine’s Day, the Kiheitai woke up to three small bags waiting for them on the kitchen counter — each with a handful of square-shaped bonbons. While their responses varied, Matako knew that her gesture had been well received.
Nobume’s reaction was harder to read, her stoic demeanor masquerading her surprise almost entirely. Matako suspected that, just like her, the younger woman had never celebrated this day before. On the contrary, Kagura had been loud and teased her as a response. Matako didn’t say it out loud, but the brat’s brightness was almost contagious.
After them, Matako still had a set of sweets to give, the one she had worked on the hardest. But the person they were intended for was now somewhere among the stars, which meant that for now Matako was left to wait. It had been while trying to follow the instructions on how to temper the chocolate that she finally came to terms with her feelings. Out of all the people she was giving a present to, these confectioneries were for the person she spoke with and knew the least. And yet, she had used the heart-shaped specifically for her.
Matako could barely remember the time she had first seen Mutsu. There were other more pressing issues going on at the time, and she didn’t bother giving Sakamoto’s crew a second glance. It wasn’t until the war ended and things settled down that she really became aware of the Kaientai’s vice-captain.
Her first clear impression of her was how she contrasted against Sakamoto. Matako knew that the latter, just like Shiroyasha and Katsura, despite being a very capable fighter had a tendency of acting like a fool. Meanwhile, Mutsu usually appeared calm and collected, and Matako almost felt sorry at how she seemed to be babysitting her captain everywhere they went. She was probably capable of running the Kaientai herself, but the more Matako observed her, the more obvious it became she genuinely cared for Sakamoto, and more than once she was left wondering how the two had ended up working together.
Mutsu was slightly shorter than her, and yet she never failed to notice her presence whenever she was around. She had a big appetite, and from what it looked like, she was a very strong fighter both in hand-to-hand combat and with the use of guns — Matako later learnt she was part of the Yato clan. Other than Sakamoto, she seemed to have a soft spot for Kagura, and her crew all seemed to think highly of her. Matako knew that getting respect and admiration to that level was not an easy task, which told her Mutsu was also very skilled as a leader. At the same time, while Mutsu wasn’t usually a conversation starter, she had no problem engaging with others, and even when she stayed silent, there was something about her that caught Matako’s attention again and again.
While dealing with Sakamoto, Mutu’s expression was usually a neutral or slightly annoyed one, getting more serious when the situation required it. However, she also smiled often — it wasn’t a big toothy grin, but the way her lips curved up and her eyes softened when she did never failed to make Matako lose her breath for a second. Looking at her had become a constantly dumbfounding experience. Sometimes it made her feel like she had taken a sip from a cup of tea on a snowy day, its warmth inviting her to dooze of and enjoy the distinct feeling of being home. Sometimes, it made the temperature of her skin go up, while her heart felt as if it had been replaced by a fireworks show that was setting off and expanding through her whole body. And then there were times when it was a mixture of both. The one thing that was constant every single time she looked at Mutsu was how she suddenly became painfully aware of each and every beat her heart did, and how the distance between them never seemed short enough.
Maybe it was the holiday spirit of the season hitting her by surprise, but despite all her attempts at hiding and ignoring her feelings, Matako could no longer deny them. She didn’t know Mutsu enough yet to be able to say she was in love, but the way her heart and her body reacted whenever she was around was surely not platonic in nature. She would have to get closer to Mutsu to truly find out how deep her feelings ran and how far they could take her, and for that she would have to take action.
Four passed since Valentine’s Day before Matako finally saw Mutsu again, and she had spent most of that time gathering courage and thinking of the best way to deliver her present.
She waited until almost everyone was gone before calling the other woman out, ready to launch her attack. But once Mutsu turned around and focused her brown eyes on her, everything went out of the window and the words she had carefully planned faded before she could say them out loud. Having to focus more on keeping her heart still than on what was coming out of her mouth, she could only manage to comment on the tardiness of her gesture and her inexperience with it. Starting to panic, she soon excused herself and hurried behind her team’s steps with her tail between her legs.
For the rest of the day, Matako found it hard to concentrate, her mind going back to that short interaction over and over. She had been so focused on trying to manage herself that she didn’t even pay attention to Mutsu’s reaction, leaving her with absolutely no idea of how her present had been received.
Matako spent the weeks that followed the meeting checking the calendar every morning and every night, counting down the days until March 11th, when they would reunite again. Every time Shinsuke-sama or Takechi-senpai called her name, she got hopeful that they would tell her the meeting had been pushed forward.
At the same time, part of her didn’t want the day to ever come. She kept wondering if her move had been misinterpreted, if not completely rejected. Either way, she was almost certain she would not be getting the positive response she desperately wanted.
Once the date finally arrived, she could feel her heart pushing hard against her ribcage.
The Kaientai were the last to arrive, something for which Sakamoto excused in between his loud laughs. Mutsu was focused on keeping her captain in check and didn’t seem to take notice of Matako, both to her relief and her despair.
The hour that followed felt like the longest in her life so far. Matako was barely paying any attention to the other people present, with her eyes fixated on the clock as she stood against the wall behind Shinsuke-sama and Takechi-senpai —her role was closer to being their bodyguard than to an active member of the small committee.
“Relax, you have nothing to worry,” Bansai-senpai whispered to her from his spot next to her. Matako almost wondered if she was being too obvious, but knowing him, it was more likely that he had just listened to her and figured out her mood. What she was unsure of is how much could he tell about what troubled her. Did he interpret her getting more impatient with each minute as just a bad mood and was trying to calm her down, or was he fully aware of the dilemma that had been eating at her for a while now? And if he did know, was he telling her not to worry because he already had an idea of what kind of response she would get, if any? There was also a chance he had seen her give Mutsu the box of chocolates and connected the dots.
Having considered all of these options, she was about to ask the man to elaborate when her focus was turned back to the meeting. Those sitting at the table were done for the day, and as usual, it was the Joui’s antics that transformed the mood from a serious strategy meeting into a casual encounter. This time, Sakamoto included his vice-captain and the new shogun into his drinking plans.
Matako watched the scene unfold, pleading in silence for Mutsu to look at her, even if just for a second. She needed to know if she meant anything to her at all or if it was better to move on before she got any more attached. At this point, Matako was almost certain that her feelings weren’t mutual, but maybe, if she could just see Mutsu smile at her, it would be a sign that she could still have a chance.
However, Mutsu seemed more focused on keeping her captain’s idiocy in check, and paid no attention to the pair of eyes that were fixated on her every move. With each tick of the clock Matako could feel her hope fade away, the indifference hurting her more than any direct rejection would. As everyone else exited the room, Matako found herself wishing she could fade into the wall behind her. The last one to leave was Bansai-senpai, once again telling her not to worry. But Matako didn’t hear him, as the growing pit in her stomach took all of her focus. If anyone were to walk in, they would probably find the sight of her looking at the floor in defeat to be quite pathetic.
Despite feeling almost depleted of energy, she couldn’t stay there swimming in her misery forever. On one hand, this was very far from being the worst thing that had happened to her, but on the other, she hadn’t been this hopeful or looked forward to something good happening in such a long time that it felt from another life, yet this had ended even before it even began. But maybe it was better for things to end this way, before she got her hopes higher. And as impossible as it seemed at that very moment, she had to keep moving forward. If she had learned anything during the past few months, was that the future was uncertain, and she would find the happiness her heart longed for, and if not, she would build it herself one brick at a time. Her past self from a year ago would have never imagined where her life was at now, just like her current self didn’t know where she would be standing a year from now.
Back on the streets of Edo, she stretched her arms up and looked to the sky. It was a beautiful day, and it would be a waste if she spent the rest of it sulking alone. The air was chilly as winter had yet to end, but she could already feel the first signs of spring. She could hear the birds sing, and the cherry blossoms would be blooming soon. There were many things to say about the fleeting beauty of it all, but Matako wasn’t much of a poet. Walking without any hurry, she focused on feeling the rays of sunlight kissing her skin each step she took. Edo was changing so fast, she had to make the most of the views it had to offer before they were gone.
Something caught Matako’s attention, making her stop dead on her tracks — she could see Mutsu standing under the shadow of a naked tree trunk, from what it looked like, waiting for her. As soon as she saw her, the shorter woman began walking towards her, not caring about the sun hitting her directly. Matako could feel her heartbeat getting faster the closer Mutsu got. Growing impatient and forgetting about her negative feelings from just moments ago, she also started moving forward. They both stopped once they were face to face and there was less than a meter separating them — though in Matako’s eyes it was still an unbearably long distance.
She opened her mouth, still trying to think of what to say, but Mutsu was the first to speak.
“I was waiting for you,” she said and extended her arms in front of her, offering Matako a gift box. Looking at it in surprise, she noticed it was almost the same as the one she had used the month before; the same size and shape, but in a different color. “I know it’s a little early,” Mutsu said, mirroring the words Matako had used the last time they had talked, “but I wanted to give you this as soon as possible.”
Matako accepted the box by taking it while giving a small bow. She could feel Mutsu’s eyes on her as she carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box. The contents were also similar to what she had made, but the bonbons had been made using white chocolate instead of dark. Matako wondered if all the care put into almost recreating her own gift were due to Mutsu taking the description of White Day very literally, of if it meant their feelings for each other were mutual. Mutsu gestured for her to try one of the bonbons so she did. The sweetness of the shell matched perfectly with the tartness of the strawberry filling, and Matako was delighted by the taste. She looked up and bit her lip to hide the gasp that tried to escape her when her eyes met with Mutsu’s.
“Last month you left before I could say thank you,” the shorter woman began speaking again. Matako blushed and uttered an apology, but Mutsu rejected it. “I’m glad you did, it gave me the time to really think about what you were trying to say. I got your message, and I hope you also accept my response.”
“And your response is…?” Matako asked. Despite everything, she couldn’t help to feel nervous and think of different ways things could go that weren’t the one she was hoping for. As she waited for an answer, the world around her seemed to stand still in anticipation.
Mutsu’s reply was to place her hands on the sides of Matako’s face and pull her down a little. Matako closed her eyes by reflex, jumping up a little when she felt Mutsu’s lips on hers. The touch caused an electric shock to travel around her body. Tired of wasting time, Matako put her free hand on the back of Mutsu’s head and pushed her even closer, deepening the kiss.
Matako had no idea how much time had passed by the time they parted, as the world around them seemed to had stayed still while they kissed. The warm rays of sun were still hitting her skin, the same birds were singing their songs, and the cherry blossoms were still covered in buds ready to bloom. But now she saw it with different eyes. Just like spring was about to begin, she could feel something growing inside of her.
Mutsu offered her hand, and Matako’s face lit up with a smile and a blush. She took the other woman’s hand and intertwined their fingers, and the two began exploring the streets of Edo together. She wanted these moments to last an eternity, but before she noticed, the sky was getting dyed red as the sun started to set down. Mutsu took her to a looking point from where they could see the city change colors, but for Matako the most beautiful view yet was that of the light making Mutsu’s eyes sparkle as she smiled back at her.
Every time she saw them, she couldn’t hold herself back and had to kiss her again. More than chocolate, Mutsu’s lips were a treat Matako was getting addicted to.