Team Seven icon seemed most appropriate.
footnotes: sorry for the sort of repetition I’ve been writing – these were all conjured up on the same day, after all ;p. When I get to rewatching more episodes – more will come!
There are nightmares that he has.
All around him is the stench of dried blood and corpses – comrade or foe, they’re all dead.
The silence is suffocating – guilt is in the air.
He is alone.
He wakes up gasping, the bed sheets crumpled and already tossed to the side.
His feet lead him automatically to the closets, hands trembling a little as he frantically searches for the handles.
It is then when he calms down, and slides the door open silently – almost expecting an empty space. He sees a mop of pink hair and he looks upon the girl fatherly – and is careful not to wake up the sleeping girl.
He turns about, careful to avoid the large furry dog on the floor, and turn towards the refrigerator to reach for a carton of strawberry milk.
Almost casually, he looks at the worn-out digital clock by his table and the doorbell rings. A boy invites himself in, and the two exchange greetings – and we see that this action is routine.
He then settles himself down in front of the television and watches the latest commercial while the boy has already made himself at home and is nit-picking around.
The boy holds up the empty carton of strawberry milk with his fingers gingerly, a scowl already on his face – getting ready to nag when the man says, “Ah, Shinpachi -”
He stifles a yawn, “remember to cut the coupons off. There’s a discount.”
The dream resurfaces in his darkest hour, where faces of comrades resurface – and – and they are blaming him.
He awakes, his subconscious pricking him – realizes that Kagura and Shinpachi have been caught – and jerks up, shoulder wound agitated. There is an anxiety within him.
The door slides open, revealing a face familiar face.
“So it was you.” He is already getting up.
The long-haired man merely leans against the doorframe – his voice is tired.
“Your wounds are severe.”
The expression on Katsura’s face is solemn and Gin replies with a wry smile.
“Who else will save them?”
Katsura sighs and looks towards another direction, and there is a slight pause as he walks past your old comrade.
Katsura doesn’t comment.
It is at the end when Gin thanks him again, with the pink haired girl and boy-wearing-glasses on his back, making a din but clinging on fondly.
The two ex-comrades exchange a fleeting glance, memories of the past ablaze.