Apprentice
Chapter Four
The rules according to Hiko
(AN: Although this chapter starts out humorous, I hope, it ends up very WAFFy, so be warned. Grab a box of Kleenex, or you're going to sniffle on your sleeve and get it all icky.)
Kenshin and Kenji trudged up the mountain behind Hiko, who was breathing easily as he followed the narrow path up to his mountain cabin.
"Tired, Kenshin?" Hiko asked with a slight sneer on his ruggedly handsome tanned face. A few strands of pure silver amongst the black of his long shaggy hair around his face only added something elegant to the man's appearance, thought Kenshin, wondering if Hiko would ever begin to show his true age.
"No, Shishou, I'm fine, but this is quite a hike for Kenji-chan, that it is," replied Kenshin, looking behind him at his son.
"I'm fine, too, 'to-san," said Kenji stubbornly, not about to admit it even if he was.
"Are you sure, Kenji-chan? We can stop for a few minutes if you need to catch your breath."
"Quit babying the boy, Kenshin," growled Hiko over his shoulder. "He'd better get used to the idea that the next three months won't be a holiday."
"Don't worry about me, Otosan, I'm not a baby," said Kenji indignantly.
"I know you're not a baby, Kenji-chan, that I do," said Kenshin in a conciliatory tone. "Now, lets see if we can convince your dear mother of that fact. I almost had to knock her out to let us leave for the train."
"We're almost there anyway, so you can quit whining, idiots," said Hiko, pointing ahead to the clearing next to a magnificent waterfall where his rustic abode lay.
Kenshin looked at the simple cabin where he'd spent nearly eight years of his young life and sighed. He'd forgotten how beautiful it was here on the mountain.
"Well, Kenji-chan, what do you think?" Kenshin asked his son, who was looking around him with much the same look as his father on his small face.
"It's just like you told me, to-san, very beautiful," Kenji said quietly.
"Well, now that you two are done with your gawking, perhaps you can help me put all these things away." He pointed to the bundles they had all helped carry up the rather steep mountainside, not only Kenji's things, and a few of Kenshins, but several large wrapped ones that Hiko himself had aquired in Kyoto.
"This stuff weighs a ton, Shishou, what is it?" asked Kenji, prodding it with his sandaled foot.
"Quit kicking my jugs of sake, brat!" shouted Hiko and bent down and touched the sides to reassure himself that nothing had been broken.
"Rule one of the domicile of Seijuro Hiko the 13th, No touching my sake!" Hiko said, grinning down at Kenji, who had jumped back with astounding alacrity. "And rule two is no touching my sake. In fact, that's the most important rule around here, so we really don't have any other rules."
"Oh, I forgot, no wetting the bed, either," he added as an afterthought, glancing at Kenshin, who was suddenly fascinated with a bird in a large tree at the edge of the river.
"I don't wet the bed," replied Kenji with a puzzled expression on his face. "I'm nine years old, and I quit doing that when I was a baby."
"Good, then it's not an inherited trait, apparently," smirked Hiko, glancing at Kenshin again, who was still pointedly ignoring the whole conversation between his son and Hiko.
Kenji looked at his father and back at Hiko, and then back at his father, and snickering.
"See, I knew you were a bright kid," laughed Hiko, slinging the heavy bundles over his shoulder and pushing the door to the cabin open with his foot.
The inside of the cabin was simple, spare even, but well-built, light and clean. Kenshin stepped inside behind Hiko and Kenji and suddenly, 30 years melted away for a few seconds and he was 10 years old again, and sitting on the floor mats eating with his Master as he listened to his rumbling and genial observations on everything and nothing, rolling out the futons at night and getting ready for sleep in his small room, cooking meals, washing clothes, hauling water from the river for the small bathhouse behind the cabin.
It occurred to Kenshin, not for the first time, that his life could have been very different if not for the oddly-expressed compassion of this reclusive man, if he had not come back for him and left him sitting alone in a field of graves.
He shook his head, and roughly pulled his hand across his face, wondering if his thoughts were as discernable as he suspected they were at this moment; glad that Hiko had taken a load of things to put away in the cabins small kitchen.
Kenji was peering at him carefully, accurately reading his father's feelings of sadness, and Kenshin put on his trademark rurouni smile, hoping to erase the faint look of worry on his son's face.
"We should help Shishou unpack, that we should," Kenshin said with mock cheerfulness and bent down towards the various bundles at their feet.
Suddenly, he was embraced by a small pair of arms from behind so fiercely he was nearly unbalanced. Kenji's head was buried in his father's back and he was holding him so tight that Kenshin could hardly breathe.
"It's okay, chichi, I'll be all right, don't worry," gasped Kenji, still holding on for dear life to his father's slight form.
Kenshin reached behind him and patted his son's now shaking back. "I know you will, Kenji-chan," he said quietly, his voice hoarse with a similar desire for tears.
He sat down abruptly on the floor and pulled the boy around onto his lap, kissing the top of his head and murmuring comforting nonsense into his ear until Kenji's silent sobs subsided.
"I forgot rule number three," said Hiko's voice from the small kitchen in the back. "No crying in my house by anyone over the age of ten."
"That's odd, Shishou, you used to tell me no crying by anyone over the age of seven," replied Kenshin, swallowing and blinking hard as he rubbed his tear-filled eyes.
"It's my house, I can change the rules whenever I wish," yelled Hiko from the other room.
Kenshin laughed in earnest, rose and pulled a still teary-eyed Kenji to his feet. "I'm going to be here for a week, Kenji-chan, so there's no need for good- byes just yet. Go wash your face, my sweet boy." He gave Kenji a small push towards the door and watched as he walked slowly towards the river to cool his reddened face.
"You mean I'm going to have to listen to all this mush again in a week!?" yelled Hiko, still banging around in the back rooms, apparently putting things away(although Kenshin was beginning to wonder).
"Yes, Shishou, I'm afraid you will," Kenshin replied, still chuckling and went to put his and Kenji's things away in the small spare room. "And just for that remark, I intend to bawl like a baby when I say good-bye to Kenji- chan next week."
"As long as you don't wet the damn bed, I could care less, Baka."
Chapter Four
The rules according to Hiko
(AN: Although this chapter starts out humorous, I hope, it ends up very WAFFy, so be warned. Grab a box of Kleenex, or you're going to sniffle on your sleeve and get it all icky.)
Kenshin and Kenji trudged up the mountain behind Hiko, who was breathing easily as he followed the narrow path up to his mountain cabin.
"Tired, Kenshin?" Hiko asked with a slight sneer on his ruggedly handsome tanned face. A few strands of pure silver amongst the black of his long shaggy hair around his face only added something elegant to the man's appearance, thought Kenshin, wondering if Hiko would ever begin to show his true age.
"No, Shishou, I'm fine, but this is quite a hike for Kenji-chan, that it is," replied Kenshin, looking behind him at his son.
"I'm fine, too, 'to-san," said Kenji stubbornly, not about to admit it even if he was.
"Are you sure, Kenji-chan? We can stop for a few minutes if you need to catch your breath."
"Quit babying the boy, Kenshin," growled Hiko over his shoulder. "He'd better get used to the idea that the next three months won't be a holiday."
"Don't worry about me, Otosan, I'm not a baby," said Kenji indignantly.
"I know you're not a baby, Kenji-chan, that I do," said Kenshin in a conciliatory tone. "Now, lets see if we can convince your dear mother of that fact. I almost had to knock her out to let us leave for the train."
"We're almost there anyway, so you can quit whining, idiots," said Hiko, pointing ahead to the clearing next to a magnificent waterfall where his rustic abode lay.
Kenshin looked at the simple cabin where he'd spent nearly eight years of his young life and sighed. He'd forgotten how beautiful it was here on the mountain.
"Well, Kenji-chan, what do you think?" Kenshin asked his son, who was looking around him with much the same look as his father on his small face.
"It's just like you told me, to-san, very beautiful," Kenji said quietly.
"Well, now that you two are done with your gawking, perhaps you can help me put all these things away." He pointed to the bundles they had all helped carry up the rather steep mountainside, not only Kenji's things, and a few of Kenshins, but several large wrapped ones that Hiko himself had aquired in Kyoto.
"This stuff weighs a ton, Shishou, what is it?" asked Kenji, prodding it with his sandaled foot.
"Quit kicking my jugs of sake, brat!" shouted Hiko and bent down and touched the sides to reassure himself that nothing had been broken.
"Rule one of the domicile of Seijuro Hiko the 13th, No touching my sake!" Hiko said, grinning down at Kenji, who had jumped back with astounding alacrity. "And rule two is no touching my sake. In fact, that's the most important rule around here, so we really don't have any other rules."
"Oh, I forgot, no wetting the bed, either," he added as an afterthought, glancing at Kenshin, who was suddenly fascinated with a bird in a large tree at the edge of the river.
"I don't wet the bed," replied Kenji with a puzzled expression on his face. "I'm nine years old, and I quit doing that when I was a baby."
"Good, then it's not an inherited trait, apparently," smirked Hiko, glancing at Kenshin again, who was still pointedly ignoring the whole conversation between his son and Hiko.
Kenji looked at his father and back at Hiko, and then back at his father, and snickering.
"See, I knew you were a bright kid," laughed Hiko, slinging the heavy bundles over his shoulder and pushing the door to the cabin open with his foot.
The inside of the cabin was simple, spare even, but well-built, light and clean. Kenshin stepped inside behind Hiko and Kenji and suddenly, 30 years melted away for a few seconds and he was 10 years old again, and sitting on the floor mats eating with his Master as he listened to his rumbling and genial observations on everything and nothing, rolling out the futons at night and getting ready for sleep in his small room, cooking meals, washing clothes, hauling water from the river for the small bathhouse behind the cabin.
It occurred to Kenshin, not for the first time, that his life could have been very different if not for the oddly-expressed compassion of this reclusive man, if he had not come back for him and left him sitting alone in a field of graves.
He shook his head, and roughly pulled his hand across his face, wondering if his thoughts were as discernable as he suspected they were at this moment; glad that Hiko had taken a load of things to put away in the cabins small kitchen.
Kenji was peering at him carefully, accurately reading his father's feelings of sadness, and Kenshin put on his trademark rurouni smile, hoping to erase the faint look of worry on his son's face.
"We should help Shishou unpack, that we should," Kenshin said with mock cheerfulness and bent down towards the various bundles at their feet.
Suddenly, he was embraced by a small pair of arms from behind so fiercely he was nearly unbalanced. Kenji's head was buried in his father's back and he was holding him so tight that Kenshin could hardly breathe.
"It's okay, chichi, I'll be all right, don't worry," gasped Kenji, still holding on for dear life to his father's slight form.
Kenshin reached behind him and patted his son's now shaking back. "I know you will, Kenji-chan," he said quietly, his voice hoarse with a similar desire for tears.
He sat down abruptly on the floor and pulled the boy around onto his lap, kissing the top of his head and murmuring comforting nonsense into his ear until Kenji's silent sobs subsided.
"I forgot rule number three," said Hiko's voice from the small kitchen in the back. "No crying in my house by anyone over the age of ten."
"That's odd, Shishou, you used to tell me no crying by anyone over the age of seven," replied Kenshin, swallowing and blinking hard as he rubbed his tear-filled eyes.
"It's my house, I can change the rules whenever I wish," yelled Hiko from the other room.
Kenshin laughed in earnest, rose and pulled a still teary-eyed Kenji to his feet. "I'm going to be here for a week, Kenji-chan, so there's no need for good- byes just yet. Go wash your face, my sweet boy." He gave Kenji a small push towards the door and watched as he walked slowly towards the river to cool his reddened face.
"You mean I'm going to have to listen to all this mush again in a week!?" yelled Hiko, still banging around in the back rooms, apparently putting things away(although Kenshin was beginning to wonder).
"Yes, Shishou, I'm afraid you will," Kenshin replied, still chuckling and went to put his and Kenji's things away in the small spare room. "And just for that remark, I intend to bawl like a baby when I say good-bye to Kenji- chan next week."
"As long as you don't wet the damn bed, I could care less, Baka."
