AN: Now, the rapid time skipping slows down again for a bit. Two things to note about Kenshin's character and behavior in this chapter. Firstly, he is eleven years old and has finally reached a wonderful stage called puberty. Well, beginnings of it. No real growth spurts to be seen, or voice breaking yet… but there is certain belligerence that I cannot help but laugh at. Secondly, this is the closest he gets to being a normal teenage boy, ever.
After this, it will all start to roll downhill.
Chapter 11. The Burning Village
That autumn, they wandered longer than usual and it was just before the snowfall that they reached 12th Master's house.
Master had been even more silent and serious than normal after leaving Matsue and had started to push Kenshin's training harder. Now he was learning to mix the gymnastic and balancing training with the swordsmanship, and Master had taken to trying to teach him how to channel his ki into the blade.
Kenshin and the spirit didn't understand much of Master's explanations of how ki was supposed to work, because it still didn't make any sense.
However, they experimented in their own way whenever they had time alone. Not with much success, to be truthful. It felt like they had too little coldness to use. So Kenshin kept breaking down the wall. It was now about one third gone, and talking with Kenta and feeling it had become easier.
The sparring was starting to be more fun now, because Master wouldn't restrict them to the flat ground of the field next to the hut. No, they would spar everywhere: in snow, in water, on rocks, in the forest, while running, and now that Kenshin had been allowed to experiment with agility and gymnastics during the sparring?
In one word: awesome.
Of course, he had bruises to prove what didn't work. But the pain didn't matter. The training was new, it was challenging and he could now try to figure out new things with Master's blessing. It was like a dream come true. After all, he had wanted so long to figure out a way to surprise Master with little success.
Well, of course it never works out, Kenshin reasoned. Master was bigger, stronger, faster and knew every strike he knew. It had been hopeless, then.
But now?
Kenshin grinned in excitement.
Like him, Kenta liked the demanding training as well and the two friends had taken to the challenge with enthusiasm. It was just like one of those things one just had to do, no matter how difficult or unnecessary.
Just like figuring out how to use the ki internally, Kenshin sighed. Over two years of trying and not a single breakthrough.
Master had said that the physical training had made him somewhat faster, so there was a chance the speed approach to Kenshin's personal style could work in time. It was why Kenshin hadn't protested much about the constant jumping, or when Master had pushed him to train in deep snow. If he couldn't work out the speed trick with ki, he would make at least the physical training work. It wasn't like he had many options; strength was out, overpowering, reach, all the other traditional ways of gaining an edge in swordsmanship just wouldn't work according to Master.
The sad fact was that Kenshin was just too small, too short and too thin. No matter how much he ate, he just wouldn't get bigger.
It was frustrating, that it was.
The most notable incident during the winter of Ansei 6th was a slight cooking mishap. As was their habit, Master and student saved money on foodstuff by spending some time to gather herbs, berries and mushrooms for storage in the autumns. These would be dried and used during the long winter. So, when Kenshin had cooked some of mushrooms from his self-picked batch, stewed nicely with the complimentary rice and meat for dinner one winter day, well….
It truly was a good thing Master hadn't been there. Kenshin truly didn't want to know what would have happened if Master had eaten it.
As it happened, Kenshin had eaten the food straight away. It tasted the best when just cooked and there was no point in waiting for Master when the older man was in one of his moods. It hadn't taken long for him to start seeing colors and start laugh.
Which hadn't been that bad, at the beginning.
But when he couldn't stop no matter how he tried, Kenshin had panicked.
Master had found him trashing on the floor, giggling, talking incoherently and crying. He had thrown a lot of their belongings around, kicked the cooking pot and broken their precious ceramic dishes. Basically, both Kenshin and the room had been a total mess.
It was only the next day when they had realized what had caused it. The dried mushrooms he had used for the food had been laughing mushrooms. Kenshin never, ever wanted to be reminded of the rant following the aftermath, or how he had been "Idiot student" for weeks.
In the spring, Master had gone straight to Hagi to inquire after the poems from Kawase-san. He had explained that last time the money had been surprisingly good and he didn't want to take escorting or bodyguard jobs if he could avoid it – because this year they would go wandering further and focus on helping people.
However, when Master came out of Kawase-san's shop, he felt and looked cold, sad, and a bit angry.
Kenshin was perplexed. Hadn't the poems paid as well as they should have?
"No. The poems paid out better than I expected. There was just… a letter for me."
"Oh. What did it say?"
"Osumi-san married a family friend. A Samurai. She just wanted to tell me that."
Kenshin didn't know what to say to that. He knew that Master and Osumi-san had liked each other, but it wasn't like they would have ever married and settled down to make a family together. Master just wasn't that sort of man. He didn't even like kids or staying in one place too long. The winters with him were already hard enough, but for him to stay permanently in one place?
And if Osumi-san had wanted to marry Master, she would have already, Kenshin reasoned. So, what was the problem?
Maybe Master was just jealous?
Some people he had seen were like that. They thought they had something but when they realized it wasn't so, they would get angry. Not to mention, some people didn't know how to share.
Well, in that case, I just need to distract him.
"Should I buy a hat for you?" Kenshin asked with his most mischievous grin.
"What? Why, idiot student?"
"So that I wouldn't have to look at your face."
"Oh, get back here you brat! And getting a hat wouldn't even work. You are so short that even a basket wouldn't help!"
Laughing wildly, Kenshin sprinted ahead, dodging the people in Hagi's busy streets. Master followed at a more sedate pace.
They travelled further away to northeast that summer, heading as far as provinces of Harima, Tango and Settsu. Master had taken to clearing out the bandit camps and hunting the outlaws with more vigor than ever before, saying that he had been neglecting his duties to the sword of Mitsurugi.
Kenshin had wanted to help, but Master had forbidden it, claiming that he wasn't good enough yet.
Which was not true.
He had gotten better. He had almost managed to score a hit few weeks ago while they were sparring!
Besides, Kenshin was now eleven years old and he had grown enough to be a serious contender in a fight, he really had! And how was he supposed to get better at fighting if he couldn't even fight real opponents? It wasn't like his training had included anything new in ages. It was just the same old sparring after sparring, then some boring old kata to cool down or to warm up. And some useless lectures about meditation to help with the ki, something that Kenshin didn't want to consider about.
After all, it wasn't like anything Master said about ki worked for him and Kenta.
Not that he and spirit had managed to figure internal or external ki usage, either. Not even when combining their forces and trying time after time, but well, it wasn't like every swordsman used ki to fight! Master had said so! Most swordsmen didn't even know ki properly – and in comparison to other styles, it was the ki that made Hiten Mitsurugi so powerful and special. And Kenshin and Kenta would learn to use ki, they definitely would. But, for the moment, their swordsmanship was good enough already!
And moreover, maybe if I had a real fight, maybe me and Kenta could finally figure something out?
Besides, how cool would it be to get serious; beat the bad guys and be all heroic and stuff?
And, and…. and if Master was fighting to help people for the honor of Hiten Mitsurugi, and Kenshin was the apprentice to the style, surely it was his duty to help out, too?
Kenta agreed with all these thoughts enthusiastically. The spirit was ridiculously eager for a fight, which was a bit funny considering that it was a spirit without physical means to influence the world at all.
Unfortunately, Master didn't agree with any of these perfectly smart and logical sentiments and strictly forbade them from even seeing the fights.
Kenshin and Kenta were not so easily deterred, thought. After a few close calls with them sneaking too close to the fighting, Master had finally had enough of their disobedience and left them to wait in the nearby villages whenever he intended to clear out bandits. "If you want to help the people, you can start by staying here, idiot student."
Now in the early summer, in the sixth month of Ansei seventh, they were in the province of Settsu and Kenshin was moodily picking weeds in a small rural village house's herb garden. The resident innkeeper, a former farmer called Kouta-san, had agreed to look after him when Master had left him here two days ago.
So, while Master was fighting the bad guys, Kenshin would get to do chores for a meal and a roof over his head. And he had been given a lot of them: washing laundry, doing dishes, carrying water, clearing out weeds from the herb gardens. Some brave warrior he was.
It was so unfair.
Kenshin had been learning to use the sword for nearly four years now! Practically forever. And he was good enough to help out. He was!
But it wasn't all bad. The farmer had a young daughter, Miya-chan, who would come to talk to Kenshin every now and then. She was really pretty and nice. But most importantly, she liked talking with him. Never mind that she, too, found his hair odd, but according to her it didn't make him completely ugly. Or so she had said, and then giggled.
Kenshin didn't really understand why she would say something and giggle like that, but it didn't sound like an insult, so he tried to ignore his flare of temper. After all, Miya was the first person around his age he could talk to in ages.
"Why do you have a sword?" she asked him when they had talked the first time.
"I am a swordsman," he had answered. And it was the truth. But maybe, he also wanted to impress her a little bit. She was really pretty.
"Oh, do you know how to use it?"
"Of course!"
"Can you show me some time? I have never seen a boy swordsman."
"Yes!"
And it had been so simple.
From then on, Kenshin had an audience in Miya when he did his evening practice, and she had thought him really good, too. It was like, with her, he had someone other than Kenta who was on his side. Perhaps that was why Kenshin dared to tell Miya about Master and how he had been really unfair to him lately. How he only wanted to help, but how Master seemed to scorn the very thought.
Kenshin was angry about it, truly.
According to Miya, Master was unfair. How else could he learn if not by doing? Apparently, she had learned all she knew by practicing and helping out. Shouldn't it be so with swordsmanship, too? Then, she concluded these thoughts by adding that she wouldn't dare fight, because it would be scary. But if Kenshin did, he must be really brave, like a hero in the stories.
Of course Kenshin agreed. All he wanted was to be a hero, just like Master. Fight the bad guys, help the innocent and protect the people. It would be really cool to protect Miya.
Kenta agreed with him – it would be just perfect to join in Master's fights.
"Are you okay?" a nice shy voice asked all of sudden, startling him.
Miya!
Kenshin spun around, and grinned. "What? Why wouldn't I be okay?"
"You just stopped and stared ahead like forever. I have never seen anyone look like that."
"Ehhh…" Kenshin smiled awkwardly. What to say… "I just think about things like that."
And it was a truth, just one that wasn't anything embarrassing or mention Kenta in any way. As a rule, Kenshin didn't tell people about Kenta – it would make him seem even weirder than he already was.
"Oh… what did you think about?" she asked with a smile.
It was a nice smile and it didn't matter that she was missing a front tooth. For some reason, it made Kenshin feel really good when she smiled at him. "About fighting and how unfair Master is being."
"Again?" she sounded surprised.
Kenshin looked away, reddening a bit. Well, it might be true that I have been a bit too vocal about it. But it's a big deal and really unfair!
"Did you get your chores done already?" he attempted to distract her. It wouldn't do to talk about things that she didn't like. Otherwise, she would get bored and wouldn't like him anymore!
"Yes, almost. I still have to sweep the front yard."
He smiled at her. "And that can wait until the evening."
She nodded at him, pleased that he noted things like that. The day he had come here, she had explained that it didn't make any sense to sweep the yard in the middle of the day – it would only get the dust everywhere and she would have to do it again later when the farmers came back from the fields.
"So, you don't have anything to do now?" Kenshin didn't want to seem too eager but he was hopeful.
"Yes. I can keep you company. Have you a lot left?"
Yes! Yes! Yes!
"Ah, some. But we can talk while I do them!"
So no, staying in the village wasn't really all that bad.
They had talked all afternoon. After Kenshin finished his chores, Miya had taken him to tour the village. It was a really small one and almost empty, with most residents working on the fields.
They had been talking about training and fighting. Miya had admitted that she, too, would like to be brave and learn to fight. Kenshin had told her that of course she could. It wasn't like being brave was something only boys were allowed to be!
She had been doubtful about that.
They were just heading back to Miya's house when they saw movement and some dust rising on the road in the distance.
"Do you think it's your Master?"
"I don't know, but he was supposed to be back today."
"If it is, does that mean you will be leaving?"
"Well, if it is, I have to leave. Where he goes, I follow."
"I guess so…" she said unhappily.
"I don't think it's Master. There is too much dust."
"But who else would it be? No one comes here."
"Another traveler?"
"No. There are two… We should head back home."
"Aren't you curious?"
"No. Those are horses."
"You don't like horses?" Kenshin asked dubiously. He loved the big animals, and liked watching them whenever he saw them. And it was usually the Samurai who rode them when keeping the peace.
"I like horses just fine," Miya said testily, but led the way, almost running back to the house.
Kenshin followed. What's going on with her?
"Father! There are horses coming!" Miya yelled when they got in.
Miya's father, Kouta-san, had been a farmer until he had lost his hand. He used to be a real good at it too, or so Miya had told him, but after the accident he had to sell his land, and now he just looked after the property.
"Are you sure, Miya-chan?" he asked frantically.
"Yes. I saw them; there were two riders."
"This is bad. Your brothers haven't gotten back from Osaka yet." The older man frowned. "Let's see if we can reason with them."
"Who do you think is coming, Kouta-san?" Kenshin hesitantly asked. It didn't sound like the innkeeper and Miya were happy at all.
"Oh, I am quite sure that they are Samurai from the Kuto clan. You had better stay inside, boy," the older man said bit more harshly. Then he frowned, and looked worried. "This doesn't concern you. The same goes for you too, Miya-chan."
With those words, the farmer stepped outside.
Kenshin glanced at Miya, who looked worried, too. He smiled, and tilted his head in a silent question, and sneaked next to the wall to listen in. He wanted to know what was going on.
Miya shook her head in denial.
He waved his hand in silent invitation.
She looked at him, frowned again but then smiled a bit.
He smiled and held out his hand.
She took a step…
He raised a finger to his lips, shushed and then smiled. Then turned to look and listen in.
Miya tiptoed nearly silently next to him. Kenshin smiled, happy to have someone with him. Kouta-san was outside. The farmer felt cold, worried and angry.
Why is he angry?
There were two new ki presences, just like Miya had said and sounds of horses' hooves beating on the road.
And then there they were, samurai riding on horses. They had their paired swords, hair done in top-knot and they were dressed in fine kimono and hakama. But they didn't look very friendly, their sword spirit felt cold. Reserved. Prepared.
For what?
Whatever it was, Kouta-san seemed to have a reason to worry. Kenshin frowned. 'What do you think?' he asked Kenta, allowing it to look through his eyes.
'They look like Master when he has decided to do something,' the spirit whispered.
It was the same impression Kenshin had gotten, but compared to Master these men didn't seem like warriors. Oh, they were Samurai, definitely. At least, judging from manner and their dress, but though they had swords, they weren't very fit. One was tall and thin, and reminded Kenshin quite a bit of Master's poetry publisher Kawase-san. The other looked like an older fighter, scarred and mean, but at the same time it was clear that while he had once been in shape, nowadays he was too fond of food and sake to keep practicing.
"Are you Kouta of Arino?" the thin one asked on his perch on his horse. He sounded strict and commanding and looked at Miya's father like he was a bug or something nasty.
The older, meaner looking one dismounted. Miya shivered next to Kenshin, looking scared. Kenshin glanced at her and whispered, "Don't be afraid. Girls can be brave, too." He smiled encouragingly.
She smiled back. Her front teeth showed and the lack of one didn't make the smile any less pretty.
'Focus,' Kenta whispered and nudged him.
"I am Kouta."
"Good. By the order of our Lord Kuto, in the name of Shogun's decree and taxes, I will confiscate your property and evict you from the grounds."
What? Kenshin's eyes widened in shock. That… that would mean that Miya would lose her home!
There was a frightened gasp behind him.
"What? No! My sons are in Osaka selling our valuables. I will have the money for taxes when they come back!"
"My lord doesn't wait for empty promises."
"Please, have some mercy! If you could wait just a few days! My sons are coming soon!" Kouta-san bowed deeply, tried to touch the thin one's trouser leg.
"Don't touch your betters, you boor," the older fighter spat out and kicked Kouta-san.
Miya had begun to cry in terror. Kenshin couldn't believe his eyes. He, too, was shaking in disbelief and fright.
"Please," the farmer begged.
"These maggots don't understand proper speech these days. Just torch the building. The land is worth more without the hovel," the thin one said to the older fighter.
"Yes, that will work. Insures that the tenants leave, too," the older one agreed, absently kicking Kouta-san to the side. They heard a crack and Miya's father cried out in pain.
The Samurai grunted and spat, saying to Kouta-san, "Just take your stuff and leave."
Before Kenshin could even realize what was happening, Miya shot out through the door to her father. "Father!" she yelled. "Father, are you alright?" Kouta-san was wheezing, trying to endure the pain.
Miya looked angry. Angrier than Kenshin had ever seen her, and she yelled at the Samurai. "How could you treat Father so… You, you ugly and unfair and, and… evil men!"
"Hoo! The little girl has courage. More than the father," the old one said. "Just let it go, girl. Our lord has spoken and decreed it so."
The thin one dismounted the horse, and looked at the girl, smirking. "You know, little girl. For those words, I could kill you. An insult to your betters is a crime punishable by death."
"No! Don't touch my daughter! She didn't mean it! She is just a little girl! She doesn't know better! Have some mercy!"
"You still don't know your place, peasant. No, you are not even that. You are without land, wealth, possessions, even health. You are no one. Who are you to give me orders?" the thin one sneered. "Just for that, yes. I think I will."
And he pulled out his sword…
No. No. This can't be happening!
Miya's eyes were huge and round. She had knelt next to Kouta-san, who was begging on the ground, shaking, as low as a man could go. His forehead touched the ground.
It looks so wrong.
The older fighter was rummaging around his saddlebags and clearly he didn't see anything wrong going on.
Miya looks so scared.
Kouta-san had told Kenshin to stay inside. But how could he stay inside? Hadn't he boasted earlier to Miya that he was a swordsman? Hadn't he wanted to be a hero?
Those samurai are wrong and evil! And Miya looks so scared. There was no one else stopping them, no one but him. He was a warrior – a hero. Kenshin swallowed. Kenta nudged at him. 'Yes. Let's go. We can take them.'
Kenshin stepped out.
Before he could open his mouth, the thin one noticed him. "Oho, a foreign brat, too. What are you doing here? Where is your family?"
"I am not a foreigner!" Kenshin bristled. "And I have no family." And then, because it was just like what Master would have said, "You don't need to know more, just let them go! I will protect Miya and Kouta-san!"
"You will protect them? With what? With that little knife you have there? Hah! A foreigner brat carrying a Japanese sword. There is something very wrong with that." Before Kenshin could say and do anything more, the other one had lit a torch and then flippantly threw it at the roof of the house.
"You can't do that!"
"Yes, we can and we will. We have orders to do so," the thin one sneered at him. Kenshin had never felt angry like this before. He wanted to hurt the thin one. He wanted to defeat the Samurai and rescue Miya! Glaring at the Samurai, he put his hand on his sword and concentrated utterly on the Samurai standing lazily next to the horse and stepped forward, ready for a sprint…
"Urgh." Kenshin choked.
What?
Someone was holding him by his throat!
I can't breathe!
Kenshin clawed at the hand on his throat, tears swelling in his eyes. A hand slipped around his sword, lifted it and threw it to the thin one. "Here, one more for your collection, Jurou-san."
Miya cried next to her father. Kouta-san was still bowing, but glanced up to murmur appealingly, "The boy is not with us. Just take him and leave my daughter. Please"
No. No… This can't be happening. It's just like before…
Kenshin felt helpless. He had trained hard to use the sword. But how could he protect others when he couldn't even save himself?
Tears welled in his eyes.
No. Giving up is not an option.
Kenshin tried to kick, to claw, twist…
Nothing worked. The grip around his throat was too strong.
No.
He was helpless.
Too small, too weak.
Not again!
'Help.'
Kenta rammed at the wall separating them, and Kenshin could feel it trying.
'Help.'
And then, the spirit leaned through the wall.
It was like his body moved on his own. A kick and the hold on their throat loosened. They drew breath, sprinted, and crouched to take their sword and stabbed.
The blood sprayed all over them.
The two didn't care. It was not the time for that. They turned to look back. The old Samurai was crouching, trying to breathe, hands holding to protect his crotch. He looked up and swore harshly, straightened, and drew out his sword. "Son of a bitch, I will kill you!"
The two dodged the slow overhead blow and struck through the loose stance. The blade sunk deep, sliced through cloth and skin and bowels.
A thud echoed behind them.
They tried to breathe but couldn't. Their heart was beating so fast, it was like it was bursting out of their rib-cage. Breathe! They needed to breathe! But they couldn't see anything.
Just the smell of blood… blood…. blood….
Screaming.
Someone was screaming… Shouts.
They were so tired… tired…
Shouting.
Smoke was making it hard to breathe. Something crackled loudly.
"…couldn't see him moving. They just dropped dead, dead…"
"What are you going to do?"
"What will I do? What will I do?! They will kill me for this! Hunt me down and kill me."
"Focus! You didn't do this. You couldn't have done this and even they can see it."
"Who knows what they will see and do? Samurai always do as they please. My family! What will I do?"
"Leave. Disappear. If they find you and question you, just tell the truth."
"The truth? And what will I tell them? A demon killed their comrades? A demon that a man's eyes couldn't see? A demon…"
Laughing.
"For whatever it is worth, I am sorry. Here, take this. With that money, change your name and start anew."
"I cannot be thankful to you. You brought this to my family… Just take the demon-child and go. Leave us be."
"Very well."
And strong arms lifted them.
They felt safe, but so tired. What was the smoke and crackling sound? They tried to open their eyes just to see.
Behind them was a village covered in flames.
It was burning.
Oh, so that's what the crackling was...
He woke up slowly, head hurting like someone was pounding a hammer on his temples.
Ow…
There was a crackle of fire next to him.
Burning…?
The village is burning! No!
He opened his eyes.
Ow – hurts!
He swayed.
It was a campfire. There was the sky, a dark evening sky. There was a forest all around him, clothes hanging from a tree; his shirt, pants and a large white cloak.
My clothes!
What am I wearing?
He glanced down… Oh. He had his spare shirt on. My shirt...
"I see you are finally awake, Kenshin."
Master!
The older man was sitting by the campfire, stoking the flames.
But Kenshin… Kenshin was… is… not me..?
'Who am I?''
A memory tingled within his reach. Two men, a thin one and an old one wearing swords. A little girl, Miya, crying. Her father begging on the ground…
He touched his brow. What happened…?
"Kenshin."
Kenshin was his name, but he was not Kenshin.
Another memory, this time of a boy. 'I really like my name. I thought you could have a name too… Kenta.'
But he was not Kenta, either. Kenta, Kenshin… He was neither of the two. He was both.
"Kenshin. Look at me. Take your head out of the clouds and look at me. That's right, boy. Focus."
It was Master; he was holding their head. Master looked really worried. Why was he worried? They looked at him because Master told them to.
"Good boy. Follow my finger with your eyes."
They did because they were a good boy. They had always wanted to be a good boy. They couldn't care less about being a good boy. They slowly moved their gaze around, and the headache was there, but they were still so tired. So, so tired.
"Tired," they told Master, because the swordsman had always wanted to know when they couldn't continue and then they closed their eyes.
"No, you idiot student. You cannot fall asleep! Concentrate!"
'Idiot…'
They really hated being called an idiot. They weren't an idiot. They didn't mind being called an idiot. It just showed that Master cared about them.
Ow, ow, ow. It hurts so badly.
"There is something wrong with your ki."
Ki?
The coldness. The wall. The spirit, it had flowed through the wall. Through the wall. The wall that separated the two...
The wall!
They concentrated, yes. The wall was there, with a hole in it. But the spirit wasn't behind it. It was on the wrong side. They were together on this side.
Their head hurt. They were tired and confused, but they didn't like the hurt. They wanted the pain to stop.
Yes, the wall and the hole.
'Back to the other side…' one thought. The other agreed. 'Must get back to the other side.'
"Focus boy! You need to stay awake! Don't you dare to fall asleep!"
Asleep?
No, they couldn't sleep with this hurt. It's wrong like this. Hurt.
Ki. The coldness. Kenta was coldness. Coldness… There, it was cold. To the other side of the wall. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, they drew the coldness to the hole in the wall. To home, to the other side. It flowed like a trickle of water through the hole.
The pain grew less and then they slept.
AN2: Edited first by Chie in 2014, then again 05.03.2016 by BelovedStranger.
