According to the radio, yesterday was "Global Hug-Your-Kid Day." So…in honor of Hug-Your-Kid Day, here's my first Rurouni Kenshin story. Which I actually wrote months ago and then forgot about, but hey, better late than never, right?

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin and am not making any profit from this writing.

Takes place after Episode 18, the one where Yahiko steals Kenshin's sword.

The famed Battousai sat on the porch of the Kamiya dojo, staring out into the dark night. His prized reverse-blade sword lay behind him, and one hand loosely grasped the hilt. To many, he would seem disinterested, even bored. But to those that knew him well, and Yahiko did, he was pensive, his quick mind preoccupied.

Still, the Battousai was never caught off-guard. The child had no illusions that Himura Kenshin was unaware of his presence, even as he warily tip-toed toward the former hitokiri (1). He hated to disturb him, he really did.

What if Kenshin was thinking about what he had done? What if he was furious? What if he was thinking of something else, having already forgotten about it? What if Yahiko reminded him when he might have let it go?

Kenshin hadn't seemed angry before, but he must be angry now, the child reasoned. He had stolen his sword! That wasn't a forgivable offense. The Yakuza might have killed him for the crime. What would a former hitokiri do?

He trusted Kenshin, he really did. He knew the man would never kill a child, no matter what happened. But surely even he didn't have endless patience. Yahiko had really done it this time. He wouldn't blame Kenshin if he beat him black and blue. He deserved it.

But he was so sorry. He had never meant for anything to happen. Kenshin was never supposed to know, he had only meant to borrow it. He would never have touched the sword if he had known what would happen. He would never do anything to disadvantage Kenshin in a fight. He adored the swordsman, he was the closest thing Yahiko had to a father.

"Kenshin?" he finally asked, trying to swallow back his anxiety as he approached him, "Are you angry that I took your sword?"

Yahiko was standing next to him now, just barely out of arm's reach. The red-haired man looked up serenely, as the moon shone her soft light on his face to reveal his expression to Yahiko.

"No. You know not to do it again, correct?" He smiled kindly, his violet eyes warm. Yahiko nodded vigorously, then hesitated. He wanted to take those words of reassurance and run, but he couldn't push back the fear. It was too good to believe.

"So you're not going to beat me?" he asked faintly, suddenly staring at the ground. As such, he missed the way Kenshin's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"No. That I will not."

When Yahiko looked up again, Kenshin met his eyes calmly.

"Come here, Yahiko," he whispered, releasing the reverse-blade sword and opening his arms. The child practically flew into them, shaking like a leaf as he curled in the swordsman's lap. Strong arms wrapped around him, hugging him close.

He didn't try to hush him, he just held him quietly. His shirt grew damp, but he didn't mind. Yahiko cried silently, trying to hide his tears.

"Yahiko," Kenshin finally murmured, "I will never beat you, I promise."

The child sniffled.

"Even if I steal your sword again?" he whimpered.

"Even then," Kenshin paused, "I will be angry then, but I will not beat you."

"A-and Sano?" Yahiko asked. It was Kenshin he had really been afraid of, but he had to be sure. After all, Sanosuke was much more prone towards violence than Kenshin was, and Yahiko always taunted Sano. Which he probably shouldn't, because the former mercenary could easily kill him if he wanted to.

"Sano will not beat you, you can be sure of that," Kenshin replied, "As long as I am here, you will not be beaten in this school. Do you understand?"

Yahiko did, and he cried for real. Sobs wracked his little body as he wept against his idol. Kenshin tightened his arms around him.

"It is alright, Yahiko. I am sorry if I frightened you, that I am."

That was all he said. It was all he needed to say. Yahiko continued to cry, as he had not since his mother died. Kenshin's embrace reminded him of hers, vaguely. The arms that held him now were stronger; the chest he rested on was flat. But it felt the same. He was warm and safe. Nothing could harm him, and no one would scold him for his tears. Hidden behind the wide sleeves of Kenshin's shirt, no one would even know for sure that he was crying.

Kenshin held the child gently and silently until his sobs subsided. When they did, and Yahiko's shudders nearly disappeared, he pulled away slightly to look at the child. Yahiko stared up at him with sad brown eyes. Kenshin wiped his tears away with his sleeve, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"Yahiko," he said softly, "My parents also died while I was young. I understand, that I do. Sano and Miss Kaoru have lost their parents as well."

"You're an orphan too, Kenshin?" the child stared up at him wonderingly.

"Eh?" the man blinked in surprise. He had never heard the child refer to himself as an orphan, and it had been many years since Kenshin considered himself to be one. He hesitated, but Yahiko's eyes were so wide and almost...hopeful. He wanted Kenshin to understand, and he wanted to be like him. So Kenshin smiled kindly, and nodded.

"That I am."

Yahiko smiled, just slightly. It warmed Kenshin's heart, and his own smile almost resembled real happiness, a rarity for the former hitokiri. Then the child hopped off, blushing furiously and rubbing the back of his neck as he stood next to him once again.

"Um, you won't tell, right?" he asked quickly.

"That I will not," Kenshin answered, still smiling.

"Thanks," Yahiko mumbled.

"Anytime, Yahiko," he answered serenely, turning his attention back to the dojo gate. The child suddenly realized that he was keeping watch, much to his excitement. He could help! How cool would it be to help Kenshin guard the dojo?

He was about to run off to retrieve his wooden sword when the swordsman spoke again.

"Go to bed."

"Yes, Kenshin," he pouted. Much as he adored the former hitokiri, he was no fun at all.

(1) Hitokiri = manslayer

Hope you enjoyed it. Please review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.