Fanfic by blueroseulan
June 25, 2004
Standard Disclaimers Apply!
Summary: A short oneshot inspired by the picture of the little Kenshin sharing a meal with his shishou.
AN: PLEASE REVIEW!
Flashbacks will be in italics
Present would be in regularized font.
The child was a queer little thing. This came as a conclusion as wise hazel eyes traveled the short expanse of the skinny form that sat quietly on the old log. Hmm… queer is not a bad description… he thought inwardly. The tot's physique was well… to put it blankly, quite exotic. His flaming red hair made his head stand out in the crowd no matter how much of a midget he seemed to be and the quiet almost haunted look of the amethyst eyes that peered out to the whole world made him think.
It was nonetheless, what drew the Hiten master towards the young boy in the first place.
He was innocent. Seijurou Hiko could say that. For the orbs that gazed at him still carried the look of a confused and terrified child and yet somehow, there was this tiny ignited flame he saw that the 12th master could not pin point. The young boy was not the sulking type and yet he balked off the older man's nerves by being so unintentionally silent.
"What's your name kid?"
Cocking a bush of red hair towards the super sized man complete with the super sized muscle and the super sized cape, he could only mutter feebly.
"Shinta. Watashi was Shinta desu."
He frowned. It was obvious the boy was still lost in his own world. Probably traumatized… oh well…
"Do you want to come with me?" he asked voice still hard and yet eyes, somehow soft in its stead.
The boy regarded him with a curious look and silence reigned for the next few moments. The older man would have huffed and walked away, egoistic pride fully blown had he not seen the slight up and down bobbing of the red head.
"Good. I will teach you the art of sword fighting. In that way you would learn how to protect yourself. But we have to change your name first. You will no longer be called Shinta. That name is too soft for a swordsman whom I am to teach. From this day on, you will be called Kenshin. Kenshin Himura."
He spoke with such finality even as amethyst eyes widened.
"Ken. Shin." The young child tested his new name. Nodding, he adjusted his cape and grasped the other's small wrist in a tight and yet protective manner.
"Yes. You are Kenshin. Now come with me. We are going home."
"Kenshin…"
Her voice was soft and whisper-like. Gentle and unprovocative, a slender hand came up to tug slightly his left arm, wanting his thoughts to return back to her.
Amethyst eyes blinking twice, it took him a few more moments before he could shake himself off from his sudden reverie. Noticing the slight pout that was forming on her lips, he merely shrugged, dropped an unsuspecting kiss on her lips and linked his hand tightly with hers. Balancing the tofu bucket and the other things they had just bought from the market, gently he lead her away from the path of the Kamiya dojo, surprising the petite woman.
"Kenshin?" she asked, sapphire orbs showing confusion.
"Sumanei." He apologized, gazing at her. "Onaka ga Sukimashita ne?" he asked.
Shaking her head slightly, she inquired why, only to receive an answer she did not expect.
"I was hoping dinner could wait de gozaru yo. Could you accompany me to the riverside?"
His question was unexpected, yet nevertheless welcomed. Flashing him a bright smile that made to flutter his heart, she nodded and allowed him to lead her further deeper the forest glade.
Seijuro Hiko, 12th master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, was not, as the young Kenshin would like to put it, a sweet man. Cringing at the thought, he watched the man with the big stature chug down one bottle of sake in a single drink. Sighing inwardly when he felt his muscles groan, the boy could only think of nothing but 'bed' and 'sleep' after a whole day of rigorous training and needless to say… chores.
From out of his alcoholized stupor, he watched with a keen eye the flame haired child drench himself with a bucket of cold water. True, he might have been a little bit too harsh with the child's first take at Hiten Mitsurugi, but it was the only way he could think of. He chose strength and hard work over cutesy loving stuff.
He could be quite a termagant you know.
"Oi kid, are you trying to kill yourself? You should know, above everybody else, that it's stupid to wet yourself with icy cold water after rigorous trainings. You wouldn't want your muscles to freeze don't you boy?" he asked callously. Though he had no intentions of scaring the boy in the first place, he wanted the child to command him with an air of respect and slightly a bit of a fear. Watching with amusement as the young boy of six scurried to find a towel inside, he frowned inwardly, knowing that it would be probable that there might be someone catching flu in the house.
"Come sit with me in the fire." His tone was commanding and yet, underlined with gentle concern the child was too innocent to notice. Nodding with gratefulness, chubby fists reached out to warm each nimble finger that had turned into something akin to frozen sticks stuck in a small hand.
Blinking in surprise when his vision turned to nothing but black, the young Kenshin was about to yelp loudly when he felt rough calloused fingers above his head.
"Oi, Oi, hold still kid. How am I supposed to dry you off when you're worse than a trodden worm? Hold still!"
It was hilarious to say, to find a man with such giant a stature, rubbing an old towel atop a bush of red hair that belonged to a wriggling, squirming warm body.
No one caught flu after that incident.
The river was gentle and calm, so unlike the few times he had seen it rushing and crashing wave upon wave. The silence of the still waters somewhat gave him a sense of serenity… a kind of peace that took him long to find. Wistful amethyst eyes traveled the wide expanse of the stream only to focus on the woman that stood beside him.
She is beautiful.
For the course of four years, he had never gotten tired of repeating that thought over and over inside that silly head of his. The way her raven locks glistened in the gentle colors of dawn only to contrast on the paleness of her skin… Her sapphire eyes, so bright, so vivid and so filled with contentment, brightness and a spark he could never forget… She was beautiful and needless to say, she always took his breath away.
"Kenshin." She whispered.
An in response, he pulled her form tighter next to his, sword hand impulsively reaching out to touch the large bulge that rested in the middle of her abdomen. A sharp breath escaped her lips as she closed her eyes to relish his touch. There was an undeniable connection between the father and the unborn child so that when they touched, she couldn't help but feel tingles racing down her spine. Twelve months. She had been married to this man for twelve long months and in the course of that time, they had been able to create a child that has been formed by their own flesh and blood.
She was exhilarated and petrified at the same time.
"I'm sorry for dragging you here in the riverside. It's just that…" he trailed off… unable to find the words that might serve to explain the sudden rush of memories in his mind.
"Iie… Daijabou da yo." She reassured him gently, a small smile blossoming in her lips. "I enjoy watching the river too."
Nodding, he assisted her to sit on the old wooden log, careful not to harm his child in any possible way and settled beside her himself, hands entwined together while both sat in companionable silence.
The waters were wild and crashing, wave upon wave reaching a high torrent that seemed to be magnified by the rushing sounds of waterfalls. Trembling hands feebly clutched the heavy weight of the metal weapon that rested on his hands. After learning to do katas by using bamboo swords, his master had finally decided to teach him how to handle the weight of a true katana this time.
"Kenshin, tighten your grip. Your fingers are slacking." Master commanded student as observant eyes noticed every flaw the younger one did.
"No, no. You're doing it the wrong way. No, that's not it…" Slightly irritated by his student's lack of concentration, he was forced to stand up and place the nimble digits on the proper position himself.
"There. That's the right way to hold a sword. Remember it. Or do I have to teach you again and again? Hold it tightly. It won't bite you."
Purple eyes slowly steeling with determination, he tightened his hold on the weapon, eliciting a secret smile from his master.
The hours seemed to wage on, but neither master nor student stopped from learning the basic techniques of the Hiten swordsmanship. It was a test on who could stay out in the dark, in the cold and in the water longer. Finally, and practically, after the sun had long since claimed its rest, master won and student collapsed on the cold damp ground.
Shaking his student slightly, Hiko frowned. It was stupidity that brought this result. The boy was far too stubborn to stop, and he, far too stubborn to command the lad to rest. It was both their faults anyway. Clicking his tongue he almost felt apologetic. Almost.
Lifting the sleeping boy easily with his sturdy arms, he started to head back towards the cabin, mind immersed within his thoughts.
With the steely determination he had shown, the young child had certainly earned a level of respect from his master.
"He is a kind man. That he is."
His wife regarded him with a confused gaze. The silence had given him the chance to share his thoughts with her –a fact that she was utterly grateful for—and had told him about the sudden bouts of his flashbacks with his master. Hiko Seijurou the twelfth.
"But how can you say that? All I can see is that he was a man who had no heart and had terrified and commanded an innocent child's heart." She frowned, crossing her arms in a stubborn gesture.
Had it been any other, he might have been offended. But not with his Kaoru. Knowing her, she was just sympathetic with the young boy who was taught to kill in such an early age. She wasn't angry with his master. It was only that there had been no one to place the blame on why he had to lead such a harsh life. She was compassionate. Not cruel.
He was grateful for that.
"He was strict. Yes I could say that. But in more ways than one, he taught me how to survive love." He punctuated with a kiss, wanting to show her that things couldn't have turned out in a better way.
Thoughts still undecided, she settled on pulling a mock pout, a hidden smile still showing in her lips, managing to elicit rich laughter from him.
"Oh love, how I love you so!" he exclaimed, uncaring if he was showing her his soft side. Pulling her in a tight embrace, he settled his lips softly on hers before tweaking gently her nose.
"It's growing far too dark. Let's go home ne? I'll cook dinner for both of us."
Dinner was long overdue. And since it already was, both master and student had to settle for grilled fish cooked on an open fire. Watching as the gentle colors of dusk filtered the skies; Hiko took a drink form the sake bottle and watched the young boy who was playing silently beside him.
'It's a good thing that he had not lost all of his innocence…'
"Kenshin." He called, catching the child's attention. Holding out a stick of grilled fish, he watched as a look of hunger and childish greed crossed the young one's eyes before slightly calloused fingers grasped the offered fish.
'No doubt, that child has one of the biggest appetites I've ever seen.' He thought inwardly while quietly eating his fill. Wide amethyst eyes regarded him with a nervous gaze, ducking only when the man met his gaze.
"Shishou?" the child asked, surprising the man with his sudden acknowledgement of the other's presence.
"Yes pupil?"
Shyly, purple orbs rose to meet gentle hazel ones. "A-arigatou…" he stuttered, bowing his head suddenly, afraid that his teacher would be as sudden as to berate him.
Arigatou… the child's innocent statement made a mark in his heart. Making him reflect on what might have been the boy's fate had he not found him and raised him. It took him a while before he could regain proper thinking and in an uncharacteristical manner, a hand rose to ruffle gently the thick clamps of red hair, just like what a father would do to his son after a good job done.
"You are welcome Kenshin. I am teaching you the art of Hiten Mitsurugi not for my sake but for yours. It will be able to protect and help you survive when you are finally alone." He concluded, taking a swig from his sake bottle. Amethyst eyes regarded him curiously, not being able to comprehend the older man's words.
"Shishou?" he asked, uncertainty filling his voice.
Said man merely shook his head and as if holding a mysterious secret he had no means of telling, only smiled, hiding the small tug at his lips inside the collar of his thick coat.
"You shall understand these things I am saying when you become old enough. For now, wait and master all the techniques I will teach you. Understand?" he asked, though his tone was somehow soft and gentle, making the child in front of him feel that his presence was not unwanted and that his shishou's gruffness was just his own way of showing his concern. Suddenly smiling, innocent purple eyes traveled to meet wise hazel ones.
"Hai."
The night was cool and silent. Kaoru had long since retired to the land of dreams beside him while he on the other hand laid awake, mind filled with fleeting memories.
Shishou…
A name made its way on his lips as he vividly recalled each training, each meal, his betrayal, his succession technique, his ougi and his master's great help in defeating the gang of Shishio in Aoiya. With these thoughts to accompany him in the dark expanse of the evening, vaguely, the man realized that Hiko Seijuro did not only become his teacher in the course of his training but he had become someone akin to a father for him as well. In more ways than one, his master had tried to protect him from the harsh reality of life, teaching him how to survive, and yet…. He was ungrateful as to betray and to run away to war.
He was sorry and yet he was never regretful.
Probably, he owed his life to the man Kaoru thought of having molded the nightmare for him. For if that same man had not adopted him, only the gods know what might have happened to him. He could have been raised by the wrong master, just like what had happened to Soujirou's case or worst, he might have been dead. Had he not run away to war, he would never have met Tomoe, the woman who had urged him to avow never to kill again. He might not have wandered for ten years only to meet a fiery spirited woman. He might never have been given a chance to start anew, to marry her and bear her a child.
His child.
Their child.
A firm hand came up to grasp his own unborn child sleeping peacefully in its mother's womb. He was fiercely protective and yet his touch was underlined with love and a tenderness only a father's hand might be able to conjure.
"I will protect you… little one… from all the harshness life might bring… I will protect you just like how he had protected me… Sleep and rest now little koneko… you are safe now."
OWARI
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