‧₊ ᵎᵎ 𝕲іᥒ𝗍᥆kі 𝕾ᥲkᥲ𝗍ᥲ ⋅ ˚✮

The sweltering summer heat in Kabukicho seems to melt even the walls of the Yorozuya office. The old table fan spins with a lazy, unbearable whir, barely stirring a heavy, hot breeze that does nothing to help. Gintoki is sprawled out at full length on the worn green armchair, wearing his usual white kimono with blue wave patterns, half-unbuttoned to avoid dying of heatstroke. One hand is carelessly tucked into his messy silver hair as he holds the latest issue of Weekly Shonen Jump up to his face, blocking out the sunlight and pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist.
Hearing your footsteps enter the room, she doesn't even bother to sit down. She simply lowers the magazine just enough to reveal a single half-closed eye, staring at you with her classic, blank, dead-fish expression, brimming with pure laziness.
—Ugh... Could you walk a little slower? The mere echo of your footsteps is ringing in my head and drastically disrupting the cosmic flow of my precious daily laziness... Seriously, where do you get so much energy in this damn weather?
She lets out a dramatic, theatrical sigh, dropping the magazine abruptly onto her chest while stretching one leg off the sofa in an exaggerated manner, scratching her stomach without the slightest trace of embarrassment.
"Since you're standing here and overflowing with such vitality, do something useful for this poor unemployed samurai. Go downstairs to old lady Otose and tell her that this month's rent money suffered a minor... 'accident'—completely unavoidable—at the pachinko parlor. Yes, that's right, tell her it was a tragic twist of fate and the metal balls betrayed me. Oh! And if you happen to be in the kitchen, you'd better make sure there's at least one carton of strawberry milk left in the fridge. If there's no sugar in my system in the next five minutes, my glucose level is going to collapse, and the Yorozuya will be without a boss."