Post Jinchuu. Yahiko and Tsubame are spending a night at Kamiya dojo, meaning that the sakabatou will, too. Kenji's first attempt at getting the sword, however, ends in failure. Rated T for some mature implications.
A/N: Hey guys! I'm back from vacation, but I'm also taking some classes right now, that require a ton of writing. I apologize for the delays... this one, I had on my computer for a while. And since I need some space... This is a response to a friend's challenge.
Btw, I've been reading The Catcher in the Rye a lot. This is a third person, stream of consciousness thingamajig.
Kenji's first attempt at taking the sakabatou was initiated as soon as all of the adults had fallen asleep. When the wooden clock next to his futon struck midnight, the youth crept to the side of his room. Carefully, he slid the shoji screen door open. It made no sound, as he had worked out the kinks earlier, before dinner.
With uncanny skill, Kenji cautiously made his way down the hall without a sound. Fourteen years of living in the dojo had taught him specifically where the wooden boards creaked; with more ease, the teenager continued his silent trek.
The first obstacle: Yahiko and Tsubame's room.
Without knowing it, Kenji held his breath. As he glided around a particularly hard patch of loose boards, he heard a distinct snore. He froze for a moment, but then sighed in relief. Through a sliver of opening, he caught sight of Yahiko, who had incidentally rolled over against the opposite wall. Tsubame, on the other hand, lay eagle-spread over their shared futon. There was no need to fear- Yahiko was in his customary deep sleep. Kenji could only hope that the same was for Tsubame as he moved on.
A small shock of exhilaration ran through him as the door of the main hall came into view. He was this close to the sakabatou... yet, a wave of dread swept over him as his gaze turned towards his parents' room, which was conveniently adjacent to the hall's screen door. With bated breath, Kenji treaded slowly across no man's land.
The sounds of low murmuring and movement brought him to an abrupt halt. 'Oh shit!' thought Kenji quickly, 'They're still awake...'
He expected his father to slide the shoji door any moment now. Kenji mentally cursed himself for being so presumptuous. Why had he so suddenly decided to risk the already unstable relationship between his father, let alone mother? Kenshin's look as he left to sleep should have been enough to ward him off... but for Kenji, it had made him even more determined to take the sakabatou. Still, dread paralyzed him to the spot.
But as the minutes passed, Kenji grew more and more surprised. In fact, he could hear snippets of conversation between his parents.
"It is alright, Kaoru-dono," Kenji heard Kenshin say in a consoling voice, "he will learn someday. If not from Yahiko or you, this one will see to it personally..."
Kenji swallowed. What the hell? His father was never one to discipline. Usually, his mother did, albeit verbally. Although he couldn't really blame either of them.
It had all began with him learning kenjutsu from the day he could walk. As soon as he learned all the basics, his mother had eagerly instructed him in his grandfather's unique style, Kamiya Kasshin- ryu. At that time, Kenji had thought that it was the best style in the world- until he heard about Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. A boy in school had stopped him in the school yard one day, asking whether or not he was a Himura. With dark auburn hair, Kenji had been unable to lie. He was a child, after all.
'You don't even know who your own father is? How stupid!'
Although they appeared to be insignificant words, they had burned themselves into Kenji's mind. The boy had stopped short, however, when he mentioned 'Hitokiri Battousai'. He had immediately apologized, apparently scared out of his wits at suddenly seeing Kenji as the son of Japan's most terrifying assassin...
Kaoru's voice shook him from his thoughts. Although her words were muffled, the teenager had thought he heard her say, "Thank you, dear."
He remained rooted to the spot. It felt kind of odd, just standing there outside of his parents' room. For an indescribable reason, Kenji felt a sudden pang of loneliness. He hadn't spoken to his parents openly for about two years now, aside from the strained, polite conversations. He spent most of his time outside of the dojo, or holed up inside his own room. Him standing there, and listening to his parents' soft words to one another made him think of the times when they were a real family. But given under the strange conditions that surrounded his parents, Kenji was surprised that they had met, even more so by the fact that they ended up marrying.
Autonomously, he took a step forward. When the talking stopped, he stopped. After a few more moments of pondering and waiting, Kenji steeled himself and continued anyway.
At last, his hand touched the screen's handle. With only minimal sound, Kenji snuck into the main room and approached the sakabatou.
It lay quite freely at the small table.
Suddenly weak-kneed, Kenji walked up. Gingerly, he reached out a hand and grasped the sword in his right hand.
It was heavy. He could feel the potent power stored inside it. Although it had never taken a life, the sakabatou seemed imposing in the darkness.
He stood there, mind racing. The sakabatou was in his hands right now... if he was able to somehow leave the dojo undetected, he could go to Kyoto, and pull off a visit to the Aoi-ya. From there, he would search for Hiko Seijurou, the last master of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. If his father wouldn't, his master would, right?
But just as Kenji's hand tightened around the sheath, a voice not unlike Kenshin's stole through his mind.
'Will you unjustly take what is not yours? The master of this sword is Myojin Yahiko. It was not bestowed unto you early for good reason.'
But he, Himura Kenji, was the rightful owner of the sword... he was the son of Himura Kenshin, the original wielder of the sakabatou. Yes, he recognized Yahiko's superiority in fighting spirit. But Kenji knew that he succeeded where the older man faltered: shrewd intelligence in the art of kenjutsu. Heart and spirit were important in battle- but wasn't knowledge the deciding factor? It was impossible to put your heart into something you didn't know, or weren't sure of.
And then, without knowing why, Kenji's hand moved to set the sakabatou back into its original position. He sighed heavily as he realized the truth- he just wasn't ready. Stealing a sword (even if it was rightfully yours) was dishonorable for a swordsman. He would earn it honestly by surpassing both his father and Yahiko in skill.
'No matter what it takes-'
"...Kenshin!"
Kenji froze in horror. There was no doubt that that voice belonged to his mother- he had been found out... and just when he had finally resolved himself to obtain the sakabatou through his own right.
Heart thumping wildly, the teenager shot out of the room- not even caring that he made a racket. His chances at putting off the whole thing as going to the bathroom would rise greatly if he made it back in time-
Unfortunately, just as Kenji was running, the screen door to his parents' room slid open. Autonomously, his legs seemed to turn into lead as he saw his father in the doorway.
Kenshin looked harried as he hurriedly finished tying the knot for his sleeping yukata. Kenji could only stand there, apprehensively awaiting his words.
To Kenji's surprise, his father was going scarlet. Even in the dark, the teenager could see his father stare at him, at a loss for words.
"Kenji, you... you were out here..."
The teenager, resigned to his fate, nodded. "I'm sorry."
"All this time?"
Another nod.
His father gaped at him. "...Why?"
"I-I was just curious." Of course Kenshin probably knew the answer: Kenji's obsession with the reverse-blade sword. Like all parents, however, he probably made Kenji repeat it to make him feel even more lousy.
For a moment, Kenshin stared at his son, disbelief etched clearly on his face. Finally, however, the older man cleared his throat and said warily, "It is late. We shall discuss this tomorrow. If it is your wish to know, then your mother and this one will tell you. Go to sleep." And with that, Kenshin abruptly slid the door shut.
Kenji stood a minute longer in the hall before turning towards the direction of his room, infinitely stunned at his own luck. He wasn't in trouble! And even better, his father was finally going to let up on the sakabatou. They were going to have a talk tomorrow... but what else would they discuss? New Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu techniques?
Looking forward to the next day, Kenji fell fast asleep in his futon.
From down the hall, Kenshin and Kaoru were preparing to sleep. Dressed in their sleeping yukata, both moved to lay down on the futon. Kenshin pulled up the cover before wrapping his arms around Kaoru's stomach.
"This day was going to inevitably come," Kenshin sighed lightly, as he rested his head against hers.
"I'm surprised," Kaoru whispered bemusedly, as she lay a hand over Kenshin's. "I was starting to think that he wasn't...er, into women."
Her husband laughed softly. "True. He has busied himself with kenjutsu for quite a while..."
"But I guess we've held off the sex talk for far too long."