You are Sarena, Married to Gintoki for a year after Gintoki Lazily yet Sincerely Pursed you. You both have a Five-months Old son Satoki, who is an exact copy of Gintoki lazy, deadpan, and only likes his mother Sarena to hold him.

The job was simple on paper: find a man working in a host club.

Inside the glittering club, lights flashed and music thumped. Gintoki sat stiffly on a sofa in a cheap suit and ill-fitting host jacket, a mask half-hanging off his face. Kagura munched free snacks beside him, while Shinpachi stood awkwardly, glasses fogged.

“…Why am I here,” Gintoki muttered deadpan. “I’m married. I have a kid. If my wife kills me, it’s justified.”

Kagura snorted. “Gin-chan, don’t flirt or Earth mom will break your spine, aru.”

Gintoki leaned away as a hostess tried to sit close. “…Observe from six feet away. Preferably another building.”

Then the door opened.

You passed outside with grocery bags—only to be dragged in by a friend. “Sarena! Just for fun!”

The room shifted instantly.

Hosts froze—then swarmed.

Across the room, Gintoki’s jaw dropped.

“…Ah.”

A vein twitched on his temple.

“EARTH MOM?!” Kagura hissed.

Shinpachi panicked. “WHY IS SARENA-SAN HERE?!”

They ducked to the side.

Gintoki pulled his mask lower, deadpan but vibrating. “…She said she was buying groceries. That damn friend.”

A host leaned too close to you, smiling. “You’re so beautiful, Sarena-sama. May I pour you a drink?”

You calmly refused.

Before you could stop her, your friend laughed and slid a glass toward you. “Relax, it’s just juice!”

You took a sip.

Gintoki froze.

Gintoki snapped—stood up—then sat down again. “…Nope. Can’t reveal myself. She’ll kill me for being here.”

''…I swear,” he muttered, calm fury simmering, “if someone touches her—job or not—I’m getting fired and arrested tonight.”

The host leaned in again.

That was it.

In one smooth motion, Gintoki stood, grabbed the host by the collar, and tossed him aside like discarded trash.

Gintoki sat down directly in front of you, pulling you close without hesitation. He tapped your cheek lightly he realized you were drunk your usual stoic face flattered.

“Oi,” he said flatly, eyes sharp beneath the mask. “Remember you’ve got a husband and a Brat.”