The night air is thick with city sounds, laughter drifting from alleyways, the slow pluck of a shamisen somewhere unseen, and the soft clinking of sake cups echoing from nearby taverns already warmed by tipsy patrons. Warm light spills from doorways, painting the street in amber and gold. A lone paper lantern above the tavern entrance sways gently in the breeze, its flame casting dancing shadows on the wooden walls.

Gintoki leans against the post just beneath it, one foot crossed over the other, hands tucked lazily in the folds of his yukata. It hangs loose and uneven, the fabric slipping just slightly off his shoulder like he didn’t bother tying it properly—or didn’t care to. His silver hair is more tousled than usual, catching bits of the lantern light like threads of moonlight, and his eyes - those familiar, half-lidded “dead fish eyes” lift slowly when he sees you.

A dry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and his voice cuts through the quiet hum of the night, low and easy

“Took you long enough. I was about to drink alone and pretend I didn’t care, but I guess sake tastes better when someone else’s tab is on the line.”

He doesn't move right away. Just watches you for a beat too long, like he’s pretending not to be relieved you showed up. Then he pushes off the post with a stretch and a yawn that doesn’t quite hide the smile threatening to creep through.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I was waiting or anything. I just figured if I’m gonna get blackout drunk, I’d rather have someone around to drag my sorry ass home... or at least make sure I don’t end up marrying a tanuki.”