Disclaimer: I own no Ruroken… that I most certainly do not!

Before You Go

It was late when Yahiko stepped out of the dojo into the golden light of the setting sun. He was surprised to find Kenshin sitting out on the porch, also enjoying the cool air and tranquil atmosphere. Yahiko sat beside the older man, and they silently shared the peaceful setting.

After several long moments, Yahiko noticed that something didn't seem quite right with his friend. Although the mood was free from tension, the was something strained on the older man's face.

Yahiko sent a sidelong glance in the redhead's direction, startled to notice for the first time how time was beginning to wear on Kenshin. The lengthening shadows deepened fine lines that now graced his face. The amber rays of the sun, accentuated some silver glinting in his shaggy hair. And was it just an illusion of light and shadows, or did Kenshin seem a bit thinner… more tired?

WhyamInoticing such things now? Yahiko shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to accept the fact that Kenshin was now in his early fifties. That even for someone like Kenshin, time still marched on.

"Is something wrong, Yahiko?"

Yahiko was startled from his thoughts by Kenshin's soft voice. His dark eyes widened, as he focused on his friend's gentle smile. "No. Not really. I was just thinking…"

"Thinking?"

Yahiko smiled a little. "Yeah," he teased gently. "I do that sometimes, you know." But his eyes remained serious, and he didn't deceive himself into thinking that Kenshin didn't notice. Trying to at least change the subject, he asked casually, "I was just wondering… do you miss it? The sword I mean…"

Kenshin arched one red eybrow, his smile twitching a bit. "The sword? Do you mean my sakabatou… or do you mean the battles themselves? Because at my age, I would think swordplay is probably best forgotten…"

Inwardly, Yahiko cringed. It was as though Kenshin could read his mind… knew what was really bothering him. Again, he tried to shift the focus. "You aren't old," he muttered. "I was just thinking how Megumi said you can't use Hiten Mitsurugi anymore… and I wondered… you know… if you missed it. If you missed being able to fight, even if you didn't really want to…" He trailed off, frustrated in the knowledge that he was really making very little sense.

But Kenshin seemed to understand, and laughed softly, standing and stretching. "I miss it a little. My kata was almost my religion for so long. And my blade was a part of who I was. But that's past. A long time ago…"

"Not so long," Yahiko muttered defiantly. "You're still the best fighter I've ever known… I'm never going to be able to get that strong…"

Kenshin studied Yahiko for a long time before finally saying in a quiet voice. "Yahiko, get the sakabou. Meet me in the dojo." He turned and walked away, leaving the younger man sitting in stunned silence.

When Yahiko entered the dojo a few minutes later, Kenshin was already waiting for him, bokken in hand. The younger man's eyes widened as he suddenly realized what this was about. "Kenshin… are you… you want to…? Megumi said you shouldn't…" It was a struggle to get the words out. He badly wanted to fight Kenshin again. To see if he'd improved any. And to prove to both himself, and Kenshin that the redhead was as strong as ever. But still… Megumi had been firm about Kenshin straining himself…

The redhead's expression was serious. "I'm sure," he replied shortly. "I think we both need it." His lips twitched into a wry smile. "Anyway, I don't think this one fight will do any more damage to me than my first thirty years of life… It seems a little late to be worrying about such things."

Yahiko nodded, put at ease by Kenshin's sure voice. He stepped forward and turned to face his friend, who had already moved into stance. They remained that way for a long while, each assessing the other's expression, form, and ki.

Then they were in motion. It was awkward at first. Kenshin was moving slowly, not nearly as sure as he'd been twenty years ago, when he'd first presented the sakabatou to Yahiko as a coming of age gift. The wear and tear of countless battles was evident in his stiff movements. And for once, Yahiko was afraid that he was going to hurt Kenshin.

Then, gradually, the stiffness seemed to subside, as Kenshin began remembering the feel of a sword in his hand. As his body began responding as though by instinct. Even if his age were slowing him down, causing him pain… he was not letting it get in the way of his heart, which was guiding each swing of the bokken.

And with that realization, Yahiko began fighting in earnest. Each blow growing stronger, each defense more elaborate. Yahiko found himself forced to move in ways he'd never imagined. Forced to invent attacks at the last minute, using his own movements, and his opponents' (for that was what Kenshin had become by then) to his advantage. Using the dojo itself to aide him.

Finally… after what seemed like both an eternity and an instant, the battle was over. The sakabatou met the bokken, snapping the wooden blade. In response, Kenshin had ducked aside, sliding his hand back, so that the handle worked as a short dagger, then lunged, allowing the sakabatou's blade to strike him,driving into his shoulder. But at the same time, catching the tsuba of the sakabatou, and twisting it from Yahiko's grasp. Weapons went flying, leaving both unarmed.

Yahiko stopped for his breath, realizing that the fight was over.

Kenshin had dropped to one knee, holding his shoulder and breathing hard. The fight had taken more out of him than it once would have, but one thing had been proven… he could still fight. Could still protect. Which to Kenshin meant that his heart and soul were still intact. To Yahiko it meant that his friend was still the man he respected and admired. Time would never change that.

"Are you alright, Kenshin?" Yahiko asked, concerned.

And the redhead smiled gently. "I am fine, now, I think. Ready for a break, though."

Yahiko grinned. "I think we both are. Want some sake?"

Kenshin stood, taking a deep breath, and stretching his stiff shoulder before making eye contact. "I would like to share some sake before I rest…"

Author's Note: Not sure exactly where this idea came from, but it amuses me if nothing else. This is set the day before my deathfic, "Those Left Behind." Yahiko and Kenshin's last battle. Obviously with this piece I'm choosing to ignore Seisouhen (Reflection) after all… I never can make up my mind with that one… (shrugs) I think if you've read, "Those Left Behind," the title of this one may make more sense… but I'm not sure…

Anyway, thanks for reading. Please review!

Dewa mata!