Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters

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What Child is This?

Written by lolo popoki

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Chapter 2

The boy was watching him again.

Hiko sat cross-legged next to the fire, surreptitiously studying the little red-head out of the corner of his eye, while brushing out the tangles in his long dark hair, still wet from the bath.

Kenshin was quietly sitting in the corner spinning his little wooden top as he did every night before bedtime, warily peering at his master from underneath the shaggy fall of his bangs.

The master turned his head to look directly at his student, and saw him quickly avert his eyes, a faint blush adding a touch of color to the boy's normally pale face as he realized he was caught staring again.

Turning back to his toy, Kenshin continued with his repetitive activity. Playing... yet, not playing. Every night, Hiko observed the boy's quiet hobby, hoping he'd see some sign of amusement. And every night, it was always the same. There was never any obvious enjoyment in Kenshin's actions. It seemed almost mechanical, more that of a familiar routine really than for any actual sense of fun.

Comforting, perhaps, Hiko mused, remembering that Kenshin had once told him the little top had been a gift from his parents... the last gift they had given him before their deaths. It was the only personal item he had kept from that time, and he kept it close, often tucked in his gi during training.

He'll have to stop doing that once we begin sparring sessions...

Still feeling depressed from earlier, Hiko watched a few moments more before laying his brush down with a small, tired sigh.

"Oi," he said gruffly, then sighed again as Kenshin jumped, startled by the unexpected break in the silence. "It's time for bed. Although, as your futon is still damp from earlier..." Seeing the boy's face flush in embarrassment, Hiko quickly held up a hand to forestall the stammering apology. He continued, "Since it's still wet, you'll have to use mine for tonight."

"Use... your futon?"

Hiko was not prepared for the expression of wide-eyed horror that crossed his deshi's face. "What's the matter?" he demanded, completely baffled by the reaction.

Kenshin anxiously stared up at his master, eyes still wide and slightly panicked. "You... you want me to go to bed with you?"

"N..Nani?!" the swords-master choked out, his own eyes suddenly wide with shock. He sat, gaping at the young frightened child for a long moment. "Of course not! What the hell–?"

Sudden comprehension struck him like a fist to the stomach, momentarily robbing him of speech.

From his first good look at the boy, Hiko had known without a doubt what kind of life the slavers had probably intended for him. The exotic red hair and sweet violet eyes would have fetched a hefty profit from those brothels catering to a specific clientele.

But I hadn't considered... that the slavers... they didn't... did they?

Just the thought of it sickened him, twisting his stomach into knots. Rage and unbridled hatred towards men already dead and buried swept over him, a nauseating fury burning cruelly into his gut. He was on his feet, sweeping aside the drape hanging over the doorway before he even realized he had moved. Ignoring the startled "Shishou!" from his young apprentice, he stepped out into the yard. He needed some air.

Outside, he found himself staring blindly up at the night sky, unmindful of the stars twinkling cheerfully high above. Shaken, body trembling with the effort to control his rage, the swordsman breathed in the cold, clear autumn air – slow, deliberate breaths as he sought to calm himself.

Logically, he was aware he was jumping to conclusions; it was foolish to rely on rash speculation and unsubstantiated guesswork, after all.

But, it is possible, his heart whispered restlessly. The way he reacted... and it's not really that uncommon among slavers and slaves. It would also certainly explain some things...

Feeling quite ill, Hiko resolutely shoved these thoughts aside for the moment. He would deal with this troubling situation later. At the present, he was more concerned with his own loss of control. Angry or not, he should not have reacted the way he did.

Retrieving one of the bottles of sake he kept stashed outside to chill during these rapidly cooling nights, he sat down heavily on the grass outside the cabin, picking a spot reasonably sheltered from the icy breeze. He poured himself a drink, his expression grim.

I've had enough.

Two months of dealing with someone who constantly reacted to you as if you were a dangerous animal left him frustrated, unsettled and off-balance. He was sick and tired of it. He had tried so hard, and what was there to show for it? Headaches, nausea, and a psychologically scarred little kid who didn't trust him, and obviously never would.

The swordsman lowered his head, damp hair falling forward to hide the bleak misery in his eyes.

He had seen so much potential in that small child. For the first time in years, the jaded cynic had let himself hope for the future. And just like always, any hope he'd once held had been crushed.

Expression hardening as he finally came to a decision, he impatiently brushed away the raven strands clinging wetly to his face.

Fine. If that's the way it's going to be...

Kenshin poked his head out of the doorway, interrupting his master's thoughts. "Shishou?" he questioned anxiously. "Forgive me if I've upset you..."

"I'm not upset," Hiko said stiffly. "Just go to bed. Use my futon or sleep on the floor; I don't give a damn."

"But..."

"Bed." Hiko gave him a sideways glance. "Now." With a touch of bitterness, he added, "And you needn't worry, I most certainly will not be joining you."

Kenshin ducked his head. "I wasn't worried..."

Hiko simply shook his head tiredly. "Liar..." he muttered, turning away, an odd little catch in his throat. "Try to get some rest. We're going into town tomorrow."

"Into town?" The boy hesitated uncertainly, his head cocked to one side. "For supplies?"

The swords-master kept his eyes averted, responding with only a noncommittal grunt.

Kenshin stared for a moment, then his gaze suddenly shuttered. "I see," he whispered, his voice resigned. He turned to head back into the cabin. "You should come back in soon," he murmured over his shoulder. "It's getting cold out." After this, he slipped back inside.

Regretful, Hiko stared at the empty doorway and sighed. "I'm sorry, Kenshin, but this is for the best."

He leaned back against the cabin wall and closed his eyes, shivering as the cold wind picked up and whispered mockingly through the trees.

Liar...

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(timid wave) Hi there... I know it's been so long since I've first posted this story, or even updated "Only the Beginning." You've all probably lost interest by now ;; I still haven't given up, I swear it. Ah well... I hope this short little depressing chapter is acceptable for now. Could use a little more tweaking, I think, but I'm tired of messing with it. Mood should get rather more humorous in the next chapter. I hope to update before another year is up... but I can promise nothing. :(

Big thanks goes to sueb262 and Warg, for looking this chapter over for me, and SiriusFan 13 for all her encouragement and support. Also, thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed thus far, and for all you wonderful people who voted for "Only the Beginning" in the RKRC awards! (group hug) Runner-up in two categories was seriously more than I'd ever even dreamed of...