Chapter 16: Passed Down Through Bloodlines Is Not Only Traits, But The Will
Kenji sat on the porch of the Kamiya Dojo. His face was healing nicely, but a scar would always remain on his left cheek, a painful memory of the slaughter. Just as Kenshin had the scar that reminded him of his own past.
Over the coarse of the week, Kenshin had explained his history to Kenji. He had survived, and so had Kazumi, but just barley. Kenji had also become a lot quieter and causious. He would jump into a defensive stance when he spooked, his hand automatically going to his hip as if he was to pull out a sword. But when he was in the presence of Kazumi, he was open and carefree with her, just like the thirteen year old he was.
Although in appearance, Kenji was no longer thirteen. He looked about more seventeen or eighteen.
But on the flip side of things, Kenji's habit of, erm, *cough* 'touching' girls was now nonexistent.
But now, Kenji relaxed on the porch, watching the cherry blossoms float lazily in the air. His head was propped on his elbow, which rested on the floor of the dojo.
(AN: he's lying on his side, looking out into the courtyard.)
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Tsumbame walked down the hall, Yahiko standing on her left side, as they cooed over the small infant that they held in their arms. The little girl had been born on the night Kenji had gotten his first taste of blood. They had named her Kaoishi. Actually, they had given Kenji the honor of naming their first newborn.
The happy family continued walking and rounded a corner.
"You know, when you were little, about 2 or 3, your mother adored you like that."
Kenji didn't bother looking at his father. He was too ashamed as to the act of killing to even look at him.
"What's wrong Kenji, you've been moping around all week." Kenshin sat beside his son, trying to look into his eyes.
Kenji held up his calloused hand. Although it was clean, he could still see the blood that had soaked his fingers.
Kenshin looked away. "Your ashamed that you killed a person arnt you?"
Kenji looked back up to the blooming trees. "I cant believe that I killed someone. And this scar I have, will always be a looming reminder." He gently touched his cheek with his hands.
"I felt as if I had no control. Like I was watching everything from the inside. Not able to do anything, just watching."
Kenshin nodded. "I too feel like that too, Kenji. De gozaru ne. The scar on my own face is a reminder to me always of the many men I have slain. But what you felt was the Battousai. I feel similar when the Battousai part of me takes over, but this trait is somewhat diminished, seeing as you also have your mother's sweet and innocent side." He glanced at Kenji quickly before gazing back out to the trees. "And as the generations go on, the Battousai blood is diluted slowly, but surly. With every child that is born, the percentage of him becoming the Battousai becomes less and less, until one day the Battousai trait will either have been diluted until it is no more, or, be wiped out all together."
Kenji looked at his father. How it must have been, to see the very man before him, fighting in a war. Being one of the most feared men in Japan, slaying anyone who dared cross his path. Kenji could almost see it in his eyes, yet it was very hard to imagine. And Tomoe, his former wife. What was she like? Kenji Himura couldn't even imagine.
Suddenly Kenshin began to laugh.
Kenji frowned. "What's so funny? I though we were having a serious man-to- man, or, manslayer-to-manslayer talk?"
Kenshin looked towards the gate of the Dojo.
"When I came back from being a wanderer, I remember coming through those gates. You ran right over to me, yelling 'daddy! Daddy!' although your mother never had given you a real physical discription of me. I picked you up and said, 'Who is this?' Your mother looked at me and said, 'that, Kenshin Himura, would be your son.'
'And what is his name?' I had asked her.
And do you know what she said?"
Kenji shook his head, slightly uninterested by the new topic.
Kenshin smiled.
"She looked me right in the eye and said, 'Battousai Himura.'"
Kenji sat straight up. "She said my name was Battousai?!"
Kenshin nodded. "I nearly had a heart attack right there. She also took a good ten years from my life."
Kenji laughed, and soon resumed his position on the wooden floor. Kenshin saw the spark of life that Kaoru had in her eyes come to life once again in Kenji's.
"Kenji, I told this to your mother once before, and now I shall tell it to you. A sword is a weapon. The art of swordsmanship is learning how to kill. What you mother says about protecting others with a sword is only sweet and innocent talk that only those who's hands have never been stained with the blood of men can believe."
Kenji looked into his fathers eyes.
"You have felt the feeling of another's blood on your own hands. And therefore, you understand what I say. Now don't believe everything your mother tells you."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "And I should trust you?"
Kenshin chuckled. "Kenji, you didn't kill that man, Yusuke, for a worthless meaning. Building a new regime for instance. You killed that man because he threatened to kill you and those you loved. It was the Battousai that saw the problem and solved it the only way he knows how; killing. So, don't beat yourself up over this."
Kenshin stood and watched his son before sitting back down. Carefully he undid the Sakabatou and sheath before laying it before Kenji.
"I want you to have the Sakabatou, Kenji. I am growing old, and it is getting harder to lug that thing around. And plus, you'll need it more."
Kenji sat up and took the sword in his hands. "Thanks dad," he said looking up. Kenshin nodded.
"Now, up and go take care of you soon-to-be wife." Kenshin mocked.
"Daa~~~ad, I have no intentions of asking her to marry me. Yet." Kenji rolled his eyes and heaved himself up.
"Plus, I'm, er, we're only 14. How old was mom when you asked her to marry you?"
Kenshin smiled. "Your mother was twenty-one, granted I met her when she was 18 and that she was 19 when she had you. And after I returned, we got married. But its not uncommon for 16 year olds to get married."
Kenji raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of getting lost in his dark red bangs.
(AN: Kenji's hair color is like a maroon/blood red color. Guess I should have mentioned that earlier, lol. My bad.)
"Trust me dad, when I propose, you'll be the first to know."
Quickly he tucked his arms into his gi (like Kenshin does) and walked down the hallway and into a room, the Sakabatou bumping his leg rhythmically. Coming to a door, he slid the paper door open, exposing a small futon with a body underneath the covers. A lone pink cherry pedal floated in on a stray breeze and landed on the covers.
Kazumi's injury had been by far the worst. Megumi had little hope on Kazumi. Her wound had been deep, and she had lost a lot of blood. Later on, she had gotten an infection, putting her in a critical stage. But Kenji had stayed by her side, 24/7.
Slowly Kenji crept to the side of the bed. "Hey Kazu-chan, wake up. It's the second day of spring, and all the cherry trees are blooming."
Kazumi arose from the blankets, her hair braided neatly behind her. A large bandage was wrapped from her shoulder to her abdomen.
"Huh? Their blooming already?" Slowly she got out of bed, her stiffness apparent.
"Common, slowpoke, by the time you get out there, winter will be here again." quickly Kenji swung the girl up and into his arms, carrying her out to the courtyard.
Yes, he was only fourteen, but Kenji had already bought an engagement ring. He loved Kazumi so much, it was unbelievable. And over the last few weeks, his love had only grown for her.
Kazumi snuggled into Kenji's strong arms. She loved him just as much as he loved her. She glanced up at the man that carried her. His face was relaxed, but his scar was still in the process of healing. It was halfway scabbed over, halfway healed. Carefully Kazumi ran her hand up and along his face. Kenji looked down and smiled. Kazumi's own wound would leave a nasty scar, but hers could be hidden, Kenji's would always be there.
Finally the two entered the courtyard. Kenji stopped, letting Kazumi take in the site.
Trees lined the courtyard, all decorated in soft pink blossoms. When the breeze rattled the branches, the soft pedals floated in the air.
Kazumi pressed her ear against Kenji's chest, listening to his heartbeat and watching the pedals at the same time.
Slowly Kenji made his way towards the larges tree, setting Kazumi down carefully. He then sat next to her and placed her in his lap.
Kaoru watched from a secluded corner of the dojo as her son wrapped his arms around Kazumi. But she didn't exactly see her son. What she really saw was her and Kenshin, before Kenji was born. Before Kenshin had left her. She felt some one approach her. Slowly Kenshin draped his arms over Kaoru's shoulder and kissed her neck affectionately. Kaoru leaned back into Kenshin, feeling his strength as he held her up. They both watched as Kenji reached inside his sleeve and brought out a small something. Slowly he placed it on her ring finger. Kaoru's and Kenshin's eyes widened substantially.
Kazumi looked down at her finger and gasped. A small ring glittered brilliantly in the fading sunlight. She looked up and into the eyes of Kenji. The question obvious in his eyes. Slowly she reached up and pressed her lips firmly against his, tasting him for the first time. Moments of his hentai-ness flashing threw her mind. And now, she was doing what she had never imagined. Kissing the very man who had grown up in under a month. The man who assaulted every girl he could. The man who's father was the Hitokiri Battousai. The man who had slain another. The man she loved...
Kenshin leaned into Kaoru. "Looks like we have an addition to the family," He whispered into her ear. Kaoru giggled. Slowly she drug a hand down Kenshin's scar, feeling the rough skin. He leaned over and kissed her deeply, savoring every bit of her.
The years behind them had been rough, with roads that had been blocked. But the love of one samurai had pushed everyone further than they thought possible. Pushed everyone to the limit. Even in times of peril, the samurai was never doughted. Everyone tried as hard as they could to please the samurai, for he was also a wanderer. And the fear of him wandering away kept them close to the man. Especially for a young woman, who's love for the man was greater than anyone's. She followed the man everywhere, loving him constantly. When the man reverted to his samurai ways, she always pulled him back to reality, even if it costed her great pain and suffering. And in the end, it paid off. All of this love and closeness. All of this devotion and courage. All because of the fear...
..of losing Kenshin.
Kenji sat on the porch of the Kamiya Dojo. His face was healing nicely, but a scar would always remain on his left cheek, a painful memory of the slaughter. Just as Kenshin had the scar that reminded him of his own past.
Over the coarse of the week, Kenshin had explained his history to Kenji. He had survived, and so had Kazumi, but just barley. Kenji had also become a lot quieter and causious. He would jump into a defensive stance when he spooked, his hand automatically going to his hip as if he was to pull out a sword. But when he was in the presence of Kazumi, he was open and carefree with her, just like the thirteen year old he was.
Although in appearance, Kenji was no longer thirteen. He looked about more seventeen or eighteen.
But on the flip side of things, Kenji's habit of, erm, *cough* 'touching' girls was now nonexistent.
But now, Kenji relaxed on the porch, watching the cherry blossoms float lazily in the air. His head was propped on his elbow, which rested on the floor of the dojo.
(AN: he's lying on his side, looking out into the courtyard.)
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Tsumbame walked down the hall, Yahiko standing on her left side, as they cooed over the small infant that they held in their arms. The little girl had been born on the night Kenji had gotten his first taste of blood. They had named her Kaoishi. Actually, they had given Kenji the honor of naming their first newborn.
The happy family continued walking and rounded a corner.
"You know, when you were little, about 2 or 3, your mother adored you like that."
Kenji didn't bother looking at his father. He was too ashamed as to the act of killing to even look at him.
"What's wrong Kenji, you've been moping around all week." Kenshin sat beside his son, trying to look into his eyes.
Kenji held up his calloused hand. Although it was clean, he could still see the blood that had soaked his fingers.
Kenshin looked away. "Your ashamed that you killed a person arnt you?"
Kenji looked back up to the blooming trees. "I cant believe that I killed someone. And this scar I have, will always be a looming reminder." He gently touched his cheek with his hands.
"I felt as if I had no control. Like I was watching everything from the inside. Not able to do anything, just watching."
Kenshin nodded. "I too feel like that too, Kenji. De gozaru ne. The scar on my own face is a reminder to me always of the many men I have slain. But what you felt was the Battousai. I feel similar when the Battousai part of me takes over, but this trait is somewhat diminished, seeing as you also have your mother's sweet and innocent side." He glanced at Kenji quickly before gazing back out to the trees. "And as the generations go on, the Battousai blood is diluted slowly, but surly. With every child that is born, the percentage of him becoming the Battousai becomes less and less, until one day the Battousai trait will either have been diluted until it is no more, or, be wiped out all together."
Kenji looked at his father. How it must have been, to see the very man before him, fighting in a war. Being one of the most feared men in Japan, slaying anyone who dared cross his path. Kenji could almost see it in his eyes, yet it was very hard to imagine. And Tomoe, his former wife. What was she like? Kenji Himura couldn't even imagine.
Suddenly Kenshin began to laugh.
Kenji frowned. "What's so funny? I though we were having a serious man-to- man, or, manslayer-to-manslayer talk?"
Kenshin looked towards the gate of the Dojo.
"When I came back from being a wanderer, I remember coming through those gates. You ran right over to me, yelling 'daddy! Daddy!' although your mother never had given you a real physical discription of me. I picked you up and said, 'Who is this?' Your mother looked at me and said, 'that, Kenshin Himura, would be your son.'
'And what is his name?' I had asked her.
And do you know what she said?"
Kenji shook his head, slightly uninterested by the new topic.
Kenshin smiled.
"She looked me right in the eye and said, 'Battousai Himura.'"
Kenji sat straight up. "She said my name was Battousai?!"
Kenshin nodded. "I nearly had a heart attack right there. She also took a good ten years from my life."
Kenji laughed, and soon resumed his position on the wooden floor. Kenshin saw the spark of life that Kaoru had in her eyes come to life once again in Kenji's.
"Kenji, I told this to your mother once before, and now I shall tell it to you. A sword is a weapon. The art of swordsmanship is learning how to kill. What you mother says about protecting others with a sword is only sweet and innocent talk that only those who's hands have never been stained with the blood of men can believe."
Kenji looked into his fathers eyes.
"You have felt the feeling of another's blood on your own hands. And therefore, you understand what I say. Now don't believe everything your mother tells you."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "And I should trust you?"
Kenshin chuckled. "Kenji, you didn't kill that man, Yusuke, for a worthless meaning. Building a new regime for instance. You killed that man because he threatened to kill you and those you loved. It was the Battousai that saw the problem and solved it the only way he knows how; killing. So, don't beat yourself up over this."
Kenshin stood and watched his son before sitting back down. Carefully he undid the Sakabatou and sheath before laying it before Kenji.
"I want you to have the Sakabatou, Kenji. I am growing old, and it is getting harder to lug that thing around. And plus, you'll need it more."
Kenji sat up and took the sword in his hands. "Thanks dad," he said looking up. Kenshin nodded.
"Now, up and go take care of you soon-to-be wife." Kenshin mocked.
"Daa~~~ad, I have no intentions of asking her to marry me. Yet." Kenji rolled his eyes and heaved himself up.
"Plus, I'm, er, we're only 14. How old was mom when you asked her to marry you?"
Kenshin smiled. "Your mother was twenty-one, granted I met her when she was 18 and that she was 19 when she had you. And after I returned, we got married. But its not uncommon for 16 year olds to get married."
Kenji raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of getting lost in his dark red bangs.
(AN: Kenji's hair color is like a maroon/blood red color. Guess I should have mentioned that earlier, lol. My bad.)
"Trust me dad, when I propose, you'll be the first to know."
Quickly he tucked his arms into his gi (like Kenshin does) and walked down the hallway and into a room, the Sakabatou bumping his leg rhythmically. Coming to a door, he slid the paper door open, exposing a small futon with a body underneath the covers. A lone pink cherry pedal floated in on a stray breeze and landed on the covers.
Kazumi's injury had been by far the worst. Megumi had little hope on Kazumi. Her wound had been deep, and she had lost a lot of blood. Later on, she had gotten an infection, putting her in a critical stage. But Kenji had stayed by her side, 24/7.
Slowly Kenji crept to the side of the bed. "Hey Kazu-chan, wake up. It's the second day of spring, and all the cherry trees are blooming."
Kazumi arose from the blankets, her hair braided neatly behind her. A large bandage was wrapped from her shoulder to her abdomen.
"Huh? Their blooming already?" Slowly she got out of bed, her stiffness apparent.
"Common, slowpoke, by the time you get out there, winter will be here again." quickly Kenji swung the girl up and into his arms, carrying her out to the courtyard.
Yes, he was only fourteen, but Kenji had already bought an engagement ring. He loved Kazumi so much, it was unbelievable. And over the last few weeks, his love had only grown for her.
Kazumi snuggled into Kenji's strong arms. She loved him just as much as he loved her. She glanced up at the man that carried her. His face was relaxed, but his scar was still in the process of healing. It was halfway scabbed over, halfway healed. Carefully Kazumi ran her hand up and along his face. Kenji looked down and smiled. Kazumi's own wound would leave a nasty scar, but hers could be hidden, Kenji's would always be there.
Finally the two entered the courtyard. Kenji stopped, letting Kazumi take in the site.
Trees lined the courtyard, all decorated in soft pink blossoms. When the breeze rattled the branches, the soft pedals floated in the air.
Kazumi pressed her ear against Kenji's chest, listening to his heartbeat and watching the pedals at the same time.
Slowly Kenji made his way towards the larges tree, setting Kazumi down carefully. He then sat next to her and placed her in his lap.
Kaoru watched from a secluded corner of the dojo as her son wrapped his arms around Kazumi. But she didn't exactly see her son. What she really saw was her and Kenshin, before Kenji was born. Before Kenshin had left her. She felt some one approach her. Slowly Kenshin draped his arms over Kaoru's shoulder and kissed her neck affectionately. Kaoru leaned back into Kenshin, feeling his strength as he held her up. They both watched as Kenji reached inside his sleeve and brought out a small something. Slowly he placed it on her ring finger. Kaoru's and Kenshin's eyes widened substantially.
Kazumi looked down at her finger and gasped. A small ring glittered brilliantly in the fading sunlight. She looked up and into the eyes of Kenji. The question obvious in his eyes. Slowly she reached up and pressed her lips firmly against his, tasting him for the first time. Moments of his hentai-ness flashing threw her mind. And now, she was doing what she had never imagined. Kissing the very man who had grown up in under a month. The man who assaulted every girl he could. The man who's father was the Hitokiri Battousai. The man who had slain another. The man she loved...
Kenshin leaned into Kaoru. "Looks like we have an addition to the family," He whispered into her ear. Kaoru giggled. Slowly she drug a hand down Kenshin's scar, feeling the rough skin. He leaned over and kissed her deeply, savoring every bit of her.
The years behind them had been rough, with roads that had been blocked. But the love of one samurai had pushed everyone further than they thought possible. Pushed everyone to the limit. Even in times of peril, the samurai was never doughted. Everyone tried as hard as they could to please the samurai, for he was also a wanderer. And the fear of him wandering away kept them close to the man. Especially for a young woman, who's love for the man was greater than anyone's. She followed the man everywhere, loving him constantly. When the man reverted to his samurai ways, she always pulled him back to reality, even if it costed her great pain and suffering. And in the end, it paid off. All of this love and closeness. All of this devotion and courage. All because of the fear...
..of losing Kenshin.