Jaa...let's see what I got going here...
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Disclaimer: Make me say it again and I'll find out where you live and run you through with the katana I just bought.
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PS. I'm not kidding. I have a real one.
PPS. This isn't a real threat, just don't sue me for having fun.
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Chapter 4
"M-master, I don't think I can take any more," he gasped, his cheeks flushed a bright red.
Hiko shrugged, downing a few jars. "Sure you can," he said, laughing. "Oh come on, you've only had seven mon worth. Go on."
Sighing, Himura reached for another bottle, making a clatter as he moved or rather knocked the other mon out of the way. The hitokiri was swaying, fighting desperately to stay awake, and he still hadn't had the chance to ask his teacher what he was doing here.
Hiko watched amusedly as his baka deshi swallowed the liquor, making a face. He grinned.
"Eight. Not bad, hunh?" Kenshin said drunkenly. "Oooh..." Hiko pulled him up by the back of his gi as he started to slump forward. "Come on. No giving up yet. Think of this as training," the dark-haired man smirked. He burst out laughing again.
Somewhere in what was left of his consciousness, Himura thought about what his students at the other tables must think, which only served to redden his face another shade. He gulped down another mon.
"Saa, master, how many've you had so far?" he said woozily.
"Dunno, I stopped counting around twenty-two. Here, have another."
Himura almost flopped onto the floor right then and there. "Oh, please Shishou! No more..."
Hiko chuckled. "Fine, fine. We can practice again tomorrow night."
At this he really did fall over.
"M-master, I do need to s-stay somewhat sssober if I'm going to teach these men," he croaked, groggy. "I almost got myself killed last battle 'cause I was drrrunk..." Kenshin attempted to pull himself back into his seat.
"Ha! Who do you think you're kidding? I wasn't sober for a day of your training and you turned out--" He stopped himself. Himura shook his head dazedly.
Had Hiko just said that he'd done well?
He must be more drunk than he thought.
Hiko, you idiot, he fumed at himself. Letting something like that slip, in
front of your baka deshi no less. Hiko no baka!
"Well, I think I'll retire now," he said abruptly, flinging his cloak out of his way and rising. "We'll talk more tomorrow."
"W-wait, master!" The hitokiri tried to rise from his own seat, but ended up with nothing more than a mouthful of floor and a good view of his feet.
"Baka-deshi," Hiko sighed, and dragged his former pupil up by his collar, placing an arm around his waist. He started leading him to his room.
Kenshin looked extremely confused.
He stared at his master. "You never did anything like this for me before..."
Hiko snorted.
"Wwwhy are you here anyway, Shishou?"
"...Spending all that time as a hermit in the mountains...one has far too much time to think..." Too many regrets to come up with... "I just had to make sure you weren't screwing up is all, tarnishing my name as a kenkaku," he huffed.
If his vision weren't so blurred, Himura could have sworn that he saw a reddish tinge appear in Hiko's cheeks, and not from the sake either.
Suddenly a grin lit the man's features. "Say, how would you...for old time's sake...how would you like to have a sparring session of your own tomorrow? Might help your students if they see you in action."
"Hunh?" Kenshin looked at him blankly.
"Saa, I believe this is your room is it not? We'll talk more tomorrow, and I'll see how out of shape you've gotten. Ja ne?"
Leave it to Hiko to discover his secret place.
"Say master--" By the time he turned around, his master was gone. A very drunk Kenshin fell into his bed and didn't awake until late the next morning.
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"Where is he?" Kuroi said impatiently. "It's been two hours and I haven't seen either one of them." He tossed his head.
"Just wait. You have to be patient, remember?" Tarou said teasingly.
"Besides, I'm not eager for another beating from Battousai."
"Ja ne."
Suddenly the crowd parted as the hitokiri appeared in their midst. He was holding his head and looked absolutely awful. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was muttering to himself, swaying a little. "How does he stand it?" he grumbled. "My head's gonna split open."
"Saa, Himura-san, you alright? You look terrible," Kuroi commented.
Himura shook his head. "Mm, too much sake last night with Shishou. Ooh...So this is a hangover..."
"Maa maa--"
"Ja, ohayou, minna. Hm, well now, he lived! Nice to see you up and about."
Who else could it possibly be.
Hiko strode into the arena, taking his time. He was carrying two katana and another large jug of sake. Kenshin looked at the jug as though he'd be sick, his stomach rebelling at the sight of more alcohol.
His Shishou grinned. "So, you ready for that match?"
"Yeah. I'm...ready." Himura took his weapon from Hiko and moved to face him. The dark haired man whistled, shutting the men up for an announcement.
"Alright you amateurs, if you want to learn something, watch carefully. We're going to spar, so take a good look at both of our techniques and stances, got it?" A few men grunted.
"Okay. Your move," he told Himura. He didn't bother to take up a defensive stance. It was obvious in his present state that the hitokiri wasn't going to be much of a challenge.
"TaaaAAAAO!"
With a battle cry Himura leapt high and aimed for his Shishou's shoulder. He dodged it easily and whacked him across the back with the flat of his blade as he passed. "You idiot. Did you honestly think that was going to work? Try something a little more complicated!"
Kenshin whirled around and performed a Do Ryuu Sen, accompanied by a Ryu Sui and Ryu Kan Sen. Hiko responded with his own, and the last thing the men remembered seeing was the two kenkaku aiming an earth-shattering blow at each other before suddenly being enveloped in a cloud of smoke the size of Osaka.
It looked like a giant thunderhead had abruptly taken residence in the courtyard.
The men coughed and sputtered, trying to see through the thick, dusty curtain. Two black shapes slowly manifested before them, one down, one upright with his katana. The man on the ground gave a soft 'Orooo...'.
Where did that come from? he thought stupidly, holding his poor head in his hands.
The men watched as Hiko walked up to his opponent on the ground.
"Baka-deshi," he sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. "I have got to have to teach you how to hold your liquor. Even if you hit an enemy it's going to be useless if you can't stand up. 'Taku; you only had nine mon!" The dark-haired man shook his head. "Try again."
Immediately Kenshin shot with an upward thrust for Hiko's stomach. With a lean whack! he wapped Himura in the face none too lightly with the side of his katana. He lay sprawled in a pile.
"Itaiiiiiiii..."
"Um. Himura-san? Daijoubu-ka?"
Kuroi leaned over him, accompanied by Tarou. The boy held his head, eyes squeezed shut. "I am never touching another drop of liquor," he croaked.
"Not until tonight," Hiko called.
The men stared.
Himura made a squeaky noise that sounded like 'eep!'
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Kuroi pulled the hitokiri to his feet again. He'd already fallen over four times that night; this was his fifth. Hiko's 'training' was once again taking his toll, for the third time in two days.
Now the boy's feet were in the air.
"Himura-san, how often do you normally drink?" the man asked uncertainly, yanking him up by one arm.
"I-I-I don't. I only used to drrrink some last year, I don't thhhink I've touched it s-since then," he gasped, completely red in the face. "If Shishou keeps this up I don't know what I'm gonna do...oooooh..."
In a certain part of his fuzzy mind he thought maybe the reason Hiko was getting him so drunk was to keep him from asking questions. He'd had to much of a time trying to stay sober to ask about why his master was even here.
Or to really teach the men, for that matter.
"Is he really the master of Hiiten Mitsurugi Ryuu?" Kuroi asked him. "He just seems so...so..."
"Stuck-up? Rude? Self-centered? A complete pain?"
"Uhh...yes."
"He's always been like that," he said woozily. "But he's a good man. He saved me when I was a boy...taught me his technique, took me in as a pupil. He even gave me my name."
Kuroi cocked his head at the inebriated boy. Even after going through all this with his teacher he could still compliment him. "...You care for him, don't you?"
"Yes. He raised me." Himura looked thoughtful as he painfully seated himself on the ground. "He can be really...trying, sometimes. But I've always regretted about how we parted. He was the only man I ever knew, the only friend I had. I never saw anyone else, not really. Anyway, he was the one I was closest to."
The hitokiri held his head as though steadying it, then went on. "I wished
that he could see why I left, but at the same time I realized it had to be
done. I wanted to change things, to protect people, so I left and became a
hitokiri. He didn't want me to do this..."
Why did you? Hiko thought, staring from his tree branch above.
The two had been too absorbed in conversation to notice him, and Kenshin
had been too drunk to sense his ki. He'd been listening to every word.
You could always return, you know, he told him mentally. Finish training...
He had been so promising, though he'd never tell him. It was infuriating,
how could he just...?
Hiko sighed and settled himself on the branch as Kuroi helped his
baka-deshi down the cobblestone path into the night.
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Okay, was this way, WAY too short or just a little??
I realyy don't know where I'm going with this, but I have an evil idea for
an ending that would work with either Rended of this.
Heeeheehee...
Oh well. Look, I think Rended is working out a little better, or at least faster than this. Saa, I'm gonna try! If you want me to finish, please review.
I'm dying here.
There is virtually no motivation except for Hiko's katana in my face.
Okay, and if you need translations for the Japanese, say so and I'll put one
up for this fic. Jeez, I'm an idiot, I didn't even think about that till now.
Duh.
Jaa, on to the next order of business...