Apprentice
Chapter Seven
Forgiven, but not Forgotten
Kenji slept huddled into the corner of the small room, his face still grimy with smoke. He hadn't moved for hours, not since he'd ordered to sit and contemplate the error of his ways by his father after he and Master Shishou had made sure that the fire was completely put out.
In the morning light, the damage to the corner of the building was a grim reminder of the foolish actions of one single minded little boy.
Kenji woke and briefly wondered why he was asleep in the corner of a strange room, and then memory returned. He swallowed hard and looked at his father, still asleep after having his rest rudely interrupted by Kenji's escapade of the night before.
Kenshin had tried to coax the boy into bed, but Kenji had resolutely refused to move from the corner where he'd been sat. Kenshin had finally resigned himself to Kenji's stubbornness and had fallen into a restless sleep after making sure the boy had a blanket tucked around him.
Kenji had never seen his father look so angry, not even when he'd dared Myojin Toshiro to jump off the roof of the dojo several months ago. Not even when he'd taken his mother's scissors and cut the whiskers off of the cat and had given himself a rather interesting new haircut. Not even when he'd torn up a good sheet(freshly laundered) to make bandages so he could look more like Uncle Sano. Not even when he'd put a large spoonful of wasabi on Yahiko's rice porridge one morning....
He wondered if his father would come back for him in three months. He wondered if his father would ever smile at him again. He wondered if his father could forgive him and might love him again. He was completely and utterly more miserable than he'd ever thought possible. He wondered if he'd ever seen anyone look as scary as Otosan and Shishou had looked last night.
Kenshin stirred in the dim light of dawn, waking to that slightly eerie feeling one has on the back of their neck when they are being stared at. Kenji was looking at him warily out from under his hair, waiting for his reaction. The boy looked as though he was poised to bolt out of the room the second he got a hint that his father was in anything less than a charitable mood.
He looked scared out of his wits.
"Kenji-chan," began Kenshin quietly, sitting up and stretching a bit. "Come here, I need to speak with you."
Kenji acquiesced, noticing the "chan". It seemed Oto-chan was his normal self again, and his eyes didn't have that scary look they'd had last night.
He scooted over on his rear to the edge of the futon. "Gomen naisai, Otosan," he pleaded, putting his face on the floor and squeezing his eyes shut as if he expected to be struck.
"Apologies are expected, Kenji, but they will not undo what is done. That requires more than mere words." His fathers' tone spoke volumes, Kenji had never heard his father sound more regretful.
"You and I must help Shishou repair his shed. And you must do whatever he demands of you to his satisfaction until honor is satisfied. Do you understand, Kenji?"
"Hai, Otosan, I understand." Kenji hadn't moved from his prone position.
"Come here to me, Kenji-chan," Kenshin said. He pulled the boy next to him, but Kenji rigidly held himself apart and refused to yield to his father's embrace or look at him.
"Are you going to come back for me, Otosan?" Kenji asked meekly.
"Oro! Nani!" murmured Kenshin in shock, "Of course I'm coming back for you Himura Kenji! Where in your head do such questions come from?"
"You looked so angry last night, Otosan, I thought maybe you hate me now and would just leave me here." Kenji's lip had begun to tremble, but he bit it to make it stop. He wasn't a baby anymore and had decided he would abide by whatever his father wanted, even if he gave him to Shishou forever.
"I don't hate you Kenji-chan, I was just very upset, that I was," replied Kenshin wearily. "You could have been seriously hurt or even killed last night, don't you realize that playing with fire is dangerous?'
"I never thought of that, Otosan," Kenji said seriously, "I just wanted to make Shishou Hiko mad enough to send me home with you."
"I see," said Kenshin thoughtfully. "Your plan was poorly thought out, and has now gotten you in quite a bit of trouble."
"Yes, Otosan," said Kenji, "I understand that now."
Kenshin sighed again. "Lay down, Kenji-chan, you must be very tired. You should have come to bed and gotten a proper night's rest."
"I was scared," Kenji whispered.
"Scared?"
"Of you, Otosan," Kenji said almost inaudibly.
"I would never hurt you, Kenji-chan," swallowed Kenshin, "Do you believe that?"
"Hai, to-san," Kenji was nearly asleep. Between the trauma of last nights events and his self-imposed discomfort in the corner, the boy was exhausted, both emotionally and physically.
Kenshin looked at his son, smoke-grimed face streaky with traces of tears, and lay down next to him, covering him and pulling him against him as he fell back asleep.
Chapter Seven
Forgiven, but not Forgotten
Kenji slept huddled into the corner of the small room, his face still grimy with smoke. He hadn't moved for hours, not since he'd ordered to sit and contemplate the error of his ways by his father after he and Master Shishou had made sure that the fire was completely put out.
In the morning light, the damage to the corner of the building was a grim reminder of the foolish actions of one single minded little boy.
Kenji woke and briefly wondered why he was asleep in the corner of a strange room, and then memory returned. He swallowed hard and looked at his father, still asleep after having his rest rudely interrupted by Kenji's escapade of the night before.
Kenshin had tried to coax the boy into bed, but Kenji had resolutely refused to move from the corner where he'd been sat. Kenshin had finally resigned himself to Kenji's stubbornness and had fallen into a restless sleep after making sure the boy had a blanket tucked around him.
Kenji had never seen his father look so angry, not even when he'd dared Myojin Toshiro to jump off the roof of the dojo several months ago. Not even when he'd taken his mother's scissors and cut the whiskers off of the cat and had given himself a rather interesting new haircut. Not even when he'd torn up a good sheet(freshly laundered) to make bandages so he could look more like Uncle Sano. Not even when he'd put a large spoonful of wasabi on Yahiko's rice porridge one morning....
He wondered if his father would come back for him in three months. He wondered if his father would ever smile at him again. He wondered if his father could forgive him and might love him again. He was completely and utterly more miserable than he'd ever thought possible. He wondered if he'd ever seen anyone look as scary as Otosan and Shishou had looked last night.
Kenshin stirred in the dim light of dawn, waking to that slightly eerie feeling one has on the back of their neck when they are being stared at. Kenji was looking at him warily out from under his hair, waiting for his reaction. The boy looked as though he was poised to bolt out of the room the second he got a hint that his father was in anything less than a charitable mood.
He looked scared out of his wits.
"Kenji-chan," began Kenshin quietly, sitting up and stretching a bit. "Come here, I need to speak with you."
Kenji acquiesced, noticing the "chan". It seemed Oto-chan was his normal self again, and his eyes didn't have that scary look they'd had last night.
He scooted over on his rear to the edge of the futon. "Gomen naisai, Otosan," he pleaded, putting his face on the floor and squeezing his eyes shut as if he expected to be struck.
"Apologies are expected, Kenji, but they will not undo what is done. That requires more than mere words." His fathers' tone spoke volumes, Kenji had never heard his father sound more regretful.
"You and I must help Shishou repair his shed. And you must do whatever he demands of you to his satisfaction until honor is satisfied. Do you understand, Kenji?"
"Hai, Otosan, I understand." Kenji hadn't moved from his prone position.
"Come here to me, Kenji-chan," Kenshin said. He pulled the boy next to him, but Kenji rigidly held himself apart and refused to yield to his father's embrace or look at him.
"Are you going to come back for me, Otosan?" Kenji asked meekly.
"Oro! Nani!" murmured Kenshin in shock, "Of course I'm coming back for you Himura Kenji! Where in your head do such questions come from?"
"You looked so angry last night, Otosan, I thought maybe you hate me now and would just leave me here." Kenji's lip had begun to tremble, but he bit it to make it stop. He wasn't a baby anymore and had decided he would abide by whatever his father wanted, even if he gave him to Shishou forever.
"I don't hate you Kenji-chan, I was just very upset, that I was," replied Kenshin wearily. "You could have been seriously hurt or even killed last night, don't you realize that playing with fire is dangerous?'
"I never thought of that, Otosan," Kenji said seriously, "I just wanted to make Shishou Hiko mad enough to send me home with you."
"I see," said Kenshin thoughtfully. "Your plan was poorly thought out, and has now gotten you in quite a bit of trouble."
"Yes, Otosan," said Kenji, "I understand that now."
Kenshin sighed again. "Lay down, Kenji-chan, you must be very tired. You should have come to bed and gotten a proper night's rest."
"I was scared," Kenji whispered.
"Scared?"
"Of you, Otosan," Kenji said almost inaudibly.
"I would never hurt you, Kenji-chan," swallowed Kenshin, "Do you believe that?"
"Hai, to-san," Kenji was nearly asleep. Between the trauma of last nights events and his self-imposed discomfort in the corner, the boy was exhausted, both emotionally and physically.
Kenshin looked at his son, smoke-grimed face streaky with traces of tears, and lay down next to him, covering him and pulling him against him as he fell back asleep.
