Winter always brought the memories. From the first light snowfall he was beset with an unescapable series of them, clear and jaggedly sharp. He never knew when they would strike. It could be when he walked outside, passing a tree scarred from hours of diligent sword practice; or maybe when the wind howled at the door, and his eyes unconsciously drifted towards a rectangle where a certain futon used to lie; even something as innocuous as drawing water sent his mind traveling back to that winter four years ago. Practicing his own forms unfailingly sent waves of anger surging through him, and maybe something else that he refused to acknowledge, so he'd fallen into the habit of practicing on firewood. At least something beneficial came from that.

He told himself that something as effervescent as a memory couldn't possibly have anything to do with him purchasing twice his usual amount of sake; it was damn cold, and a fire could only do so much. Still, he found himself slugging back a saucer-full any time he sensed those unwanted ghosts from the past creeping into his head. The ironic thing was, he thought with a tight smile that came across as a pained grimace, the sake only seemed to bring the memories more frequently.

So many memories.

Caring for blistered hands that never elicited a cry; encouraging those small arms that shook with fatigue to perform just ten more swings; studying a tired face solemn with concentration as a kata was performed at the end of a long day; all ensconced within endless hours of training, heart and soul poured out. Gone now, as far away as the warmth of spring.

Maybe he was punishing himself. After all, it wasn't as if anyone else would be able to, even if they tried. Maybe he wanted the memories, in spite of their accompanying bitterness and the sting of something that felt very much like failure. Whatever the reason, he found he couldn't bring himself to stop.

So that was why this mid-winter night saw the greatest swordsman of the era slouched against a corner of his cabin, a jar of sake at his side and a slim saucer in one hand, staring darkly at the far wall. Waiting for the sake to do its work once again.

It wasn't long in coming, and he let the alcohol induced slumber steal over him gradually, the invisible line separating sleep and wakefulness temporarily blended. As the realities merged, one last memory slipped through his lowered defenses—a boy whose hair shared the color of the setting sun turning to smile at him for the first time, eyes trusting, unafraid, and despite all the misery they'd seen in his short life, amazingly full of hope. The words he'd wanted to say, should have said, several years earlier shoved to the forefront of his half-conscious mind and he spoke to the boy, the blunt honesty giving the words unexpected strength.

"All I ever wanted was for you to know happiness. Be happy. Ikiyo!"

Somewhere in Kyoto's darkness, the Bakumatsu's most feared assassin pressed himself against a wall. Shuttered eyes opened wide as a voice sharp and swift as a sword strike pierced his mind.

Ikiyo!

Crimson hair whipped through the air as he searched for the source of the voice. Seeing nothing, the assassin resumed his guarded post, but a distant expression consumed him for a heartbeat, and a rare smile slid across his face, softening the hardened features of one who'd seen too much too young. A murmur issued from barely parted lips, drifting on the night breeze towards the distant mountains.

"Shishou."

In the ether between dreaming and reality, the swordsman on the mountain was unaware of the uninhibited smile that slipped across his own features. Let it never be known that the boy with a heart of sword had a master whose own heart was no less great.

A/N: I know what y'all are thinking . . . why isn't this a chapter update?! Well, this idea struck me a couple of nights ago, and I kept thinking about it, so I decided to just write it out. I actually got up to outline a portion on my phone at approximately 3 am. Never dismiss inspiration, regardless of the hour! It's kind of a study for me to get into the mindset for my next fic. Yep, I started work on another, and it will be on the longer side. Let me know what you think of this piece, though. I'm curious how it will hit people.

I am currently in the process of editing the next installment of Pottery and Pride. Hopefully will be out Monday! Night, that is. Really late. Because that's when my creative juices really flow well. Until then!