Island of Dreams

(When Gintoki was small, he dreamed of his mother.)

He is an island.

No mother, no father. He dreams, sometimes, of his Ka-chan's smell, of fresh laundry and sunlight, the soft padding of her feet on the tatami as she approaches his futon. The brush of her cool fingers upon his forehead.

And he awakes, and it is Shouyo-sensei beside him, Shouyo-sensei's smell of ink and pine, and those are Shouyo-sensei's rough fingers across his brow, comforting him. Gintoki closes his eyes and lies still, so his teacher will stay. And then there is sleep.

Gintoki dreams, and his dreams are filled with memories. He dreams he can still remember her voice, her scent, and the feel of her fingers. He dreams that he has not forgotten, and so he remembers until there is nothing left to dream.

And in the morning, Shouyo-sensei reminds him that he is not an island, that he has a teacher and classmates and a friend, and that these are some of the best things a person can have.

"Zura's not my friend, he's an idiot," Gintoki protests.

But he smiles, anyway.