Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and the characters thereof are the sole property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Viz, Shonen Jump, Shueisha, Fuji TV, Studio Deen and other corporations. I am only borrowing for fun, not profiting.
March, 1863
Hiko's mountain
For what seemed like an eternity, Hiko stood at the waterfall, staring at the path back to the hut he had shared with his young, bright and yet painfully idiotic apprentice Kenshin. Shared that is up until just a few hours ago, when said apprentice had declared that he was leaving the safety of the mountains to become a champion of the downtrodden in the world below.
Finally, Hiko couldn't abide standing there any longer. Deeply vexed in his soul, the swordmaster made his way back to the hut from the waterfall, letting out a silent prayer to the heavens as he did that his apprentice might have had a rare flash of good sense, changed his mind and would be at the hut, ready to grovel and beg his master to take him back. Hiko had already determined that he would indeed take Kenshin back if the little idiot did the bow and scrape and groveled sufficiently. Then Hiko would make him haul 2,000 buckets of water from the river, chop 5,000 logs and do 10,000 sword swings as punishment for insolence.
As the hut came into view, Hiko cast out his senses, hoping to contact Kenshin's young, vibrant ki. There was nothing. Hiko slid the door open, revealing an empty interior.
Heart hammering in his chest, Hiko crossed the room to the door to Kenshin's room and slid it open, only to find that the small room had been stripped of everything Kenshin had collected and decorated it with over his four year residence there. All that remained was his folded up futon.
For a moment, Hiko stood rooted to the spot, staring down at the innocent bed. Then the dam broke. Hiko picked up the futon and threw it against the wall. The storm that was Hiko left the small room and rained its wrath down on the rest of the hut.
SMASH!
CLATTER!
BANG!
THUD!
Shelves were torn from the walls, empty sake jugs were smashed against said walls and some tools went skittering across the wooden floor as Hiko vented his pent up frustration on the hut with the aid of his sheathed nihontou. Hiko's whirwind of wrath didn't stop until he reached his sake cabinet.
Hiko tore the door open, yanked out a jug of sake, uncorked it and drank straight from the jug, the hell with the sakazuki! Finished with that jug, Hiko tossed it carelessly aside, uncorked another and gulped it down as quickly as the first. The next two jugs followed those before them in the same manner.
Exhausted from his outburst and feeling the effects of the sake, Hiko looked at the destruction he had wrought throughout the small building. Among the debris, a strip of green cloth caught his eye. Hiko snatched it up and held it before his face: one of Kenshin's first training uwagi.
Still clutching the garment, Hiko slumped down against the wall, allowing his shoulders to sag and his head to droop forward. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh that emanated from his toes to the crown of his head. Hiko could still remember the tiny boy with the big, sad violet eyes, shrinking back from the sword Hiko had proffered him.
That tiny, quiet boy had grown into an arrogant idiot who had now thrown himself to the wolves! Well, the little twit would just have to find things out the hard way, as he always had. Kenshin had never been able to learn things by having them explained or demonstrated to him. Only by feeling the pain in his body and soul had the boy ever been able to learn, whether it was a new sword move, or the consequence of a bad decision. Well, if he did indeed end up in the war, learn he would.
Would he survive? Probably. Kenshin was highly competent in the moves he did know and would more than likely win as long as he kept his sword in his hands and his wits about him.
But what of Kenshin's heart and soul? Superb with the blade the boy might have been, but he was still incomplete as a swordsman and a human being. Would Kenshin be able to retain his kind heart and love for humanity, or would he degenerate into little more than a bloodthirsty killer? At the thought of his bright-eyed, kind-hearted apprentice as a soulless killer, Hiko couldn't repress a small shiver. The contrast was simply too much for him to think of.
Hiko would never train another apprentice! It was too much to sink four years into training and worrying over a little ingrate only to have them throw his hard work back in his face and take the skills he had been taught to profane in whatever way they thought best.
Hiko wondered if perhaps he wouldn't see his apprentice again in the distant future. As he thought of this, he gripped his sword and vowed then and there that if he were ever to cross paths with Kenshin in the future and find that Kenshin had succumbed to bloodlust, it would be his final duty as Kenshin's master to put everything to an end with a single clean stroke of his blade.
With another sigh, Hiko dragged himself to his feet. He had made a horrific mess of the place and would need to clean it up. Too bad Kenshin wasn't there, or Hiko would have set him to work, since Kenshin had caused Hiko to lose his temper in the first place. Looking down at the small green uwagi, Hiko carefully deposited it in a box, then set to work picking up what wasn't broken.
~Owari~
