He just didn't understand it. The man in front of him was not his father. The man in front of him hardly looked old enough to be a father, at least physically. When Shinta looked into his eyes, the man in front of him looked years older than his father. However, that didn't excuse the fact that this man was offering him a place to stay. It also didn't help when he woke up that morning that he was left alone in the hut.
Perhaps this was just a trap. He was just keeping him fed and well rested so that when the slave traders cam in, the man would just get more money by giving him a healthier slave. He didn't really understand how a person's worth got translated into money, but he did knew that it had something to do to how a person would survive harsher conditions. There was food left in front of him, but he had refused to touch it. He had a nightmare where the men he buried a week ago came back to bury him alongside them. He could only taste dirt in his mouth.
Once the sun reached the windows of the hut, Shinta decided that he had better get a start on some of the chores the man told him to do everyday. Because he was still weak from the events happening a week prior, the chores were very light and only required a little energy from him. Again, Shinta wasn't sure if this was because the man genuinely cared about him or he didn't want to risk damaging the slave before he got his money's worth.
Vaguely, he wondered how much his village got for him. Perhaps he went for extra because of his unique hair color. He hoped the money they got for him was enough to give the workers a cure for the cholera. At least then it wouldn't be a complete betrayal, as he probably would have sold himself into slavery if it meant saving people. Then again, the man who sold him was a greedy person. He probably just ran off with the money to be honest. Something inside Shinta felt sick. Once he cleaned all the dishes, he no longer felt the energy needed to gather firewood and went back into the hut to make some lunch from the remaining firewood.
There were ingredients placed everywhere in the hut, but it all had a strange order around it. Nothing seemed out of place, and instead, it just seemed like everything just belonged. The garlic, salt, and vinegar hardly seemed like things that would go together, but Shinta didn't think that the three of them were out of placed in their own little corner. The man had also specifically ordered him not to rearrange anything as it was hard enough just to find the kid in the home. Figuring that miso soup was the simplest option, Shinta set to work on reminding himself on how to make it.
His mother never got tired of him watching her. His brother was often working in the field with his father, so she was very lonely on most days. There were days where the two of them would just share secrets they found during the month. Then there were days when Shinta would tell his mother about his dreams, and she would tell him hers. While father and mother did love each other very much, as she often told him, she often had dreams of traveling to a new world: A world where she could have brought up both Shinta and his brother into a better lifestyle. His father often agreed with this statement whenever Shinta brought it up. Even though Shinta often told his parents that he was happy, they replied that it was a parent's duty to do the best they can for their child.
He missed his family. He missed his father's warm eyes and open hugs. He missed his mother's soft voice and bright smile. He missed his brother teasing him for his red hair but also defending him when any of the other boys teased him for it. He also missed his baby sister who hardly had a chance to live before the sickness got to her.
When lunch was made, Shinta watched the fire to make sure the soup stayed warm and didn't burn. The man who rescued him had yet to have returned, but he had a feeling that he would be here soon. Taking a small stick, Shinta began playing with the fire. He always supposed that he could just run away, but he really didn't have anywhere to go to. The thought of wandering around didn't really appeal to him. He couldn't bear to think of never having a home to return to. It felt like he was a lost spirit just waiting to be reincarnated or spirited away. It already felt like his spirit was not anchored to anything. Curling up on himself, Shinta closed his eyes and tried to stop the pain in his heart. Unaware to him, strong footsteps began approaching the hut.
It wasn't until the door opened that Shinta realized that he was no longer alone.
"Kenshin, what are you doing?" a strong voice asked. Shinta almost forgot to react to his new name. He looked up to the man who rescued him a week ago and promptly stood up.
"I-I made lunch," he answered but never made eye contact with the man. The man sighed and walked past the small boy. He placed a small bag on the far north side of the room and put the bag of rice he was carrying over his shoulder next to the fire pit. Shinta, unsure of what to do now, followed the man.
"Put these on," the man said pulling clothes out of the bag. They were traditional training gis made with fine blue and green cloth. It was nicer than anything his mother ever made or bought. The fabric felt wonderful on his skin.
Not wanting to displease the man, Shinta quickly began to undress. He never had clothes of his own. Even the ones who wore now were borrowed from his older brother before he caught the sickness. The new clothes were fresh and clean. Although they did not have that comfort that time gave it, it was nice to be able to wear clean clothes for once.
The man inspected Shinta and nodded as though he was pleased. He then promptly gave him new shoes and socks to put on. They were a bit small, but the man explained that shoemaker would make better ones in a few weeks. Until then, these were just a loan.
"So you better take good care of them, am I clear?" the man asked. Shinta nodded as he admired the shoes. They too were of fine quality even if they were just loaners. Suddenly, Shinta began wondering how much all of this had cost the man.
"Th-thank you very much," Shinta said. The man gave Shinta an odd look and sighed.
"Sit," the man ordered and pointed to a sitting pillow across from him. Shinta swallowed hard and wondered what he had done to gain punishment.
The man never let his gaze falter and said, "Look, I'm no parent. I hardly had parents when I was your age. I don't know how to raise a kid, but I do know how to raise an apprentice. However, I can't raise an apprentice if that apprentice is going to look like I'm going to kill him or something. The people who made your shoes? They were talking about adopting a child since they can't have their own. They'll gladly take you in if you want."
"But you've already spent so much on the clothes…" Shinta began, but the man stopped him there.
"I just giving the best that I can give. Don't worry about costs. Trust me, I know how money works," the man explained.
For the first time in the conversation, Shinta looked up to the man who saved him a week ago. The few times Shinta saw his eyes, they were full of pain and regret, but now they were different. They were of care. They reminded him so much of his father during times of famine in the village. Despite the man's hardened look, he honestly did look like he just wanted the best for the boy.
"Thank you," Shinta-no Kenshin answered, "but I would rather if I could stay here, if that's okay."
The man raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word.
But he didn't say no. Kenshin thought.
"You said you made lunch?" his Shishou asked. He wasn't sure, but Kenshin could have sworn he saw a smile on the man's face.
"Yes Shishou," Kenshin though and poured out a bowl of miso soup.
Although the man who saved him last week was not his father or a father at all, there was something about him that Kenshin felt comforted by. He was a strong man. He was smart as well. Underneath all of those physical layers, however, was something even stronger. His spirit was the strongest part of him. Because of that spirit, Kenshin knew that he was safe. He tossed away all of those thoughts of returning with the slavers. Shishou would protect him as long as Kenshin accepted him. And even then, the man who save him last week would continue watching from the shadows.
Because by the end of it all, they were more than just apprentice and master: they were kin.
A/N: My love for Hiko and Kenshin bonding will never die. I just love the two of them interacting. The two of them are just two very interesting characters and I would love to have seen more of it in the manga.