As they climbed the mountain to Hiko's shack, young Kenshin began to lag behind the large man. Hiko, with his back to the boy, didn't even notice this until he heard a moan and a soft thud. Turning to look, he saw Kenshin lying prone, sprawled out on the ground. Rolling his eyes, he knelt down and shook the boy's shoulder.

"Kenshin! Wake up!" he said, a bit gruffer than he'd meant to.

No response.

"Kenshin!" he said again.

Still no response.

Hiko rolled the boy over to check if he was still breathing, which he was. With an inward sigh, Hiko picked the tiny redhead up in his arms and carried him the rest of the way to the shack. When they got in, Hiko got out a spare futon and set the boy down on it. He opened Kenshin's kimono a bit, revealing a frame that was far too thin and bony.

'No wonder he collapsed. This kid is skin and bones,' Hiko thought. 'I can't begin training him like this. I have to feed him and put some flesh on him first.'

Hiko went to the irori and got a fire going. The boy wasn't to the point of emaciation, so he could probably handle a bowl of miso soup alright. Soon Hiko had a pot of miso cooking. The room filled with the delicious scent.

Hiko heard the rustling of cloth behind him, turned and saw Kenshin sitting up on the futon, looking around with confusion in his violet eyes.

"So all it took was the scent of cooking soup to rouse you from your nap, I see. This is my hut. You'll be living here from now on. I have a spare room in the back that I just use for storage. When you're a bit stronger, I'll have you clean it out and you can stay there," he said.

Hiko glanced at the boy and decided the first thing he needed was a good bath.

"Kenshin, how old are you?" asked Hiko.

"I think ten new years," answered Kenshin quietly.

"Old enough to wash yourself. You positively reek and I don't want my house smelling like blood and corpses," said Hiko, heading over to a shelf.

Hiko handed Kenshin some rice bran soap, a scrub brush and the smallest shirt he could find. With Kenshin following mutely behind him, Hiko pointed to the river flowing a few yards away from his house.

"Leave your clothes on the shore and wash yourself from head to toe. That's the smallest shirt I could find. It'll swim on you, but I expect just about anything will. I'll wash your clothes for you this one time and tomorrow we'll see about getting you some new clothes. The soup should be ready by the time you're finished," the swordmaster instructed.

Kenshin nodded, went down to the river bank, undid his ponytail, stripped and then headed out into the icy water, shivering from head to toe. Hiko knelt down and picked up the filthy, ragged slave clothes and took them to his house. First thing tomorrow, that kid was getting some decent clothes made!

Kenshin waded out to his chest, dunked himself under the water, then lathered up the scrub brush with the rice bran soap. He worked quickly, his breath coming out in vapor streams in the cold evening air. Goose bumps rose on his skin, but he had to admit, it felt great to scour the crusted dirt, blood and filth off his skin.

Finished soaping and scrubbing, Kenshin dunked himself again and came up soap free. Without the dirt and blood on him, naturally pale skin and a beautiful, almost angelic face were revealed. Lathering his loose hair with the rice bran, Kenshin scrubbed it vigorously several times before dunking his ruddy head.

When he came up, hair as scarlet as a sunset was revealed, having been freed from its long entrapment in dust and offal. With the pale skin, violet eyes and incarnadine hair, young Kenshin was truly a sight to behold. Shivering in the light of the dying sun, Kenshin emerged from the river, water dripping from his thin frame and long hair.

Using the towel, he quickly dried himself off and slipped into the shirt, the bottom of which came down past his ankles. He would have to be careful not to trip in it. The sleeves were so long, his hands didn't even stick out. Kenshin rolled the sleeves back and pulled his wet hair back into its low ponytail. Picking up the soap bar and scrub brush, he made his way back to the hut before he caught a chill.

When Kenshin got back in, he saw his dripping wet clothes hanging on a line in front of the irori. Hiko looked up at the clean but bedraggled looking child and had to choke down a laugh. With his hair dripping and the long shirt trailing past his feet, Kenshin was a funny sight to behold.

"You look like something the cat dragged in," said Hiko with a smirk.

Just for a moment, Hiko thought he saw a glint of anger in Kenshin's eyes. It was so brief, he thought he could have imagined it, but it was definitely there.

"Well, enough chit-chat; soup's on," announced the magnificent swordmaster, gesturing for Kenshin to sit on the floor beside the irori to dry his hair off.

Hiko poured the miso into two equal bowls and set one before Kenshin.

"Thanks for the food," said Hiko softly before tucking into his bowl.

When he didn't hear Kenshin follow suit, he looked up and saw that Kenshin hadn't even touched his bowl or chopsticks and instead sat staring at it.

"What? You don't like miso soup?" asked Hiko, pausing his own meal.

Silence.

"It's impolite to answer a question with silence, Kenshin," reprimanded Hiko. "Do you like miso soup?"

The boy nodded, looking down at the soup.

"Then eat it! That bowl is for you," said Hiko.

Only after Hiko had given this command did Kenshin pick up his chopsticks and begin going after the vegetables and meat that floated in the broth.

'Ah, I see. He thinks he needs to wait till I give him permission to eat. Typical of a slave, I suppose,' Hiko thought sorrowfully.

"Kenshin," said Hiko.

The boy looked up wide-eyed from his soup with a bit of fish dangling from his mouth. Concealing his amusement, Hiko spoke.

"When I give you food, you're to eat it right away and not wait for me to tell you to, or I'll take it for myself. Understood?" said Hiko.

Kenshin nodded and quickly went back to eating. The last thing he wanted was to lose food.

'This is going to take a while. His soul is in far worse shape than his body,' Hiko thought as he returned to his own meal.

After they were finished, Hiko had Kenshin put his bowl in a wash basin to be washed the next day.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to turn in. I'd suggest you do the same so you can start putting some flesh on that scrawny body of yours," said Hiko with a smirk.

The brief flash of anger again. There was definitely a fighting spirit in the boy. It just had to be drawn forth. Hiko pointed to the futon he'd set Kenshin in earlier.

"That will be your futon from now on. Tomorrow, I'll show you around my land and what I'll expect of you," said Hiko before disappearing into his bed room.

After Hiko had gone, Kenshin lay down on the futon, snuggling into the warm blankets. The sun had set, leaving a starry sky outside. The fire in the irori and the clothes hanging from the line cast eerie shadows on the walls. Other than the sound of crackling wood and Hiko's prodigious snoring from behind the closed door, the shack was as silent as a grave yard. Kenshin was afraid to sleep. When he had last slept, he had dreamed of the massacre and the three girls dying before his eyes. Tonight didn't promise to be any different, even if he was clean, full and in a warm bed.

Despite his misgivings, sleep overtook the exhausted boy easily enough. It wasn't long however, till the nightmares started.


Shinta looked on in silent horror at the still corpses of his parents, lying in the futon. Suddenly, his mother's violet eyes opened wide and looked at him sadly.

"Shinta, you're all alone in the world. Come sleep with Mommy and Daddy," she pleaded, reaching out toward him.

Shinta scrambled back against the wall, his tiny body quaking as his parents' bodies came to life, stood up and started advancing toward him.

"We miss you, Shinta," moaned his father.

Shinta's eyes filled with tears as he shrank from his parents' advancing forms. He felt hands on him.

His eyes opened and saw the scene shift. Now Ushio, Kazuma and Neishi loomed over him. Shinta struggled but was helpless as hands touched him where they had no business to.

The scene changed again to the battlefield. Kasumi, Akane and Sakura died before Shinta as each girl was slashed or skewered with a sword. Their eyes flew open and like his parents, they called to him.

"Come with us, Shinta. We miss you," they called out mournfully.

The bandits advanced, lust in their eyes. Suddenly, there was the swing of a huge nihontou and the large man, Hiko, appeared behind the bandits, cutting them down.

"Come with me if you want to live," said Hiko, holding out a hand.

Shinta took the swordsman's hand and left the battlefield and mournful voices behind him.


Kenshin's body jerked as he came awake. Breathing heavily, he looked about the room. Where was he?! Then he remembered; he was in the hut of the big swordsman, the man who would be his master starting today. The fire had died down to just a few embers and his clothes looked like they were nearly dry.

Kenshin looked out the window and saw that the sky was still dark, but gradually lightening in the east. There would be no getting back to sleep now. Might as well get up and look around a bit.

Kenshin began to move and realized something was terribly wrong; his sheet was wet. Closing his eyes, he berated himself for being so childish. What would his new master think of him when he found out about this?

Standing up, Kenshin stripped the covering off the futon, then folded the bed and put it away. Going over to the clothes line, he touched his kimono and hakama and was relieved to see that they'd dried overnight. Stripping out of the way-too-large shirt, Kenshin quickly dressed in his own clothes, which although threadbare, were familiar.

Grabbing the stained sheet and a handful of the ricebran soap, Kenshin headed out to the river where he dipped the bed sheet into the water and began scrubbing it in the icy cold water with copious vigor.


A feeling of fullness brought Hiko to wakefulness. He turned over in his futon, trying to get comfortable so he could ignore the feeling, but it would not subside.

'That's it. No more sake right before bed,' the swordmaster thought to himself as he threw back his blanket and got to his feet.

Hiko slid the door open. Instinctively, his eyes fell on the futon in the main room, which was supposed to have a small redhaired waif sound asleep in it, but was instead empty and stripped of its sheet.

"Hm?"

Hiko stepped down into his sandals and out the sliding door. As he walked toward the river, he cast out his ki and was answered by the subdued and wavering ki of his charge, down at the river bank. Hiko stole a glance through the bushes and found the small form huddled over the river, scrubbing away furiously at something.

After quickly pausing to relieve the fullness, Hiko approached said small figure to find out what was going on.

"Kenshin, what are you doing?" barked Hiko, startling the little boy and causing him to turn around quickly and look up at him with fear-stricken eyes before quickly averting them to the sheet in his hands.

"I wet the bed," said the little boy softly to the giant towering ominously over him.

A trembling Kenshin kept his head bowed, expecting the blow to come any time. Silence fell between the large man and small boy, broken only by the flowing of the river water and chirping of the birds' morning song.

'Oh great...' thought Hiko at length.

Of all the pupils he could pick, he would have to pick an emotionally traumatized slave with bed-wetting issues. This was going to take a lot of patience and a lot of sake.

"Kenshin, stop trembling like that! I'm not going to beat you for an accident," said Hiko.

Kenshin looked up at Hiko with moist violet eyes. The boy's slavishness would definitely have to be overcome if he were ever to become a swordsman.

"When you're finished washing the sheet, hang it up to dry from one of the tree branches by the hut and we'll have breakfast, then I'll show you around," said Hiko.


After a breakfast of rice and fish, behold master and student walking away from Hiko's hut out to the training grounds. Kenshin's eyes took in everything. There were thick wooden posts and trees to be practiced on and a huge waterfall that fell into the river that he had bathed in last night. What a beautiful sight to someone who had looked on so many unlovely things in his life.

"This is where you'll start training next week," said the haughty swordmaster. "Right now, we're going to the village and getting some suitable training clothes for you."

Kenshin walked up to the training posts and looked them over. They were sturdy and looked like they had taken a lot of punishment from Hiko's nihontou. Kenshin looked up at Hiko with a question in his eyes, but stopped short of asking.

"If you have a question, ask," said Hiko.

"What happens if I break one of these posts?" asked Kenshin.

Hiko snorted.

"Then you'll go into the forest, cut down a tree and make a new one," said Hiko.

Kenshin opened his mouth to say he didn't know how.

"I'll teach you when the time comes," said Hiko. "Alright, come on. Time to get some clothes made for you."

Kenshin fell in behind his master and they headed out. Hiko led the way down the mountain, going at half his usual pace so Kenshin could keep up. Even with the slower pace, Kenshin was completely winded by the time they reached the village.

Hiko took Kenshin to a tailor's shop where he was greeted by a matronly-looking old woman with her hair pulled back in a bun that was held in place by long hair pins.

"Good morning. How may this humble woman serve the great samurai?" asked the seamstress, noting Hiko's nihontou and bowing low.

"This boy needs to be fitted for kenjutsu training clothes, three juban, three gi, three monpei and three sets of tabi," said Hiko.

"Ah. Right this way," said the seamstress.

Hiko and Kenshin followed her inside, stepping out of their sandals as they went.

She led Kenshin and Hiko to the back and gestured for Kenshin to stand on a small pedestal. At her instructions, Kenshin held his arms out to his sides while she measured him circumferentially, vertically and horizontally.

"Alright. I'll have the clothes ready by week's end," said the seamstress.

"Very good. Kenshin!" called Hiko, turning to leave.

Kenshin turned from admiring the pretty rolls of fabric and followed his master outside, stepping into his sandals and following Hiko back home.