Apprentice

Chapter 25

Way of the Sword

(AN: This chapter is a definitely angst-ridden, because a steady diet of fluff is bad for you, gentle readers. A bit of language and violence, too. We may be going for a PG-13 rating on this chapter. Can't be all roses, you know. Kenji is steadily growing up the last few chapters, and he's not a little boy anymore. In case you hadn't noticed.)

Kenji tread silently down the alleyway behind the Akabeko. It was midnight, but a full moon, and the lengthening shadows hid his face, except for his pale eyes, which glittered cat-like in the darkness. Dressed in black, he was well concealed. He motioned to Toshiro to keep silent. Toshiro nodded his spiky head, grinning faintly, and gripped his shinai. His dark brown eyes were fastened on his older friend.

Twice in the last 2 months, burglars had broken into the restaurant at night and had taken the day's earnings. Kenji had overheard Tae tearfully giving the details to the policeman as he was eating lunch one day with Toshiro, and they had decided that the police were not exactly being forthcoming in their investigations.

Kenshin had warned his son that such matters were for the police to handle, but Tae had always been kind to Kenji and he couldn't bear to see her tears in front of that ahou of a policeman. He treated her like she was an old nuisance. It was all Kenji could do to hold his tongue.

Kenji pointed to a barely discernible dark figure on the roof. He was right, he thought. He had slipped out unnoticed this night of the full moon, hoping that the burglars could not resist temptation again. He had figured out that the other robberies had both been at the full moon, probably because of the visibility provided.

He nodded at Toshiro and pointed up. Toshiro's eyes widened and he shook his head. Kenji shrugged and cat-like he jumped to the lower edge of the tiled roof. He took off his gi and dangled it down for Toshiro to grab hold of and pull himself up. Soundlessly, he shouldered his gi back on, tying it quickly out of the way.

He crept up behind the crouching figure, still completely unnoticed.

He reached over and tapped the man on the shoulder, then lightly jumped back, his hand on the hilt of his katana.

"Looking for something, ahou?" he snarled. Toshiro smirked, raising his shinai behind him. Kenji had an odd sense of humor, but he was never bored when they were together.

The man sprang to his feet and brandished a katana. He was fierce looking, with an old scar running through the socket were one eye had been. The other was narrowed in rage.

"A wandering ronin who has turned to crime," thought Kenji. His opponent was no mere thief, then.

"So, you think to rob this place yourself, young cur?" he asked silkily.

Kenji laughed, "No, bakayarou, I'm here to keep you from robbing my friend Tae again. I suppose you are too ugly and stupid to earn your money in any honorable endeavor, ne?"

"You talk like a man, but can you use that any better than you wag your pathetic tongue, boy?" asked the man, smiling arrogantly, pointing at Kenji's sword.

"Let's find out!" Kenji sneered at him. "I see someone has taken one of your eyes, if you wish to keep what parts you have left, I advise you to withdraw, now!"

The man, enraged, came at him sword drawn with a cry that split the night's silence.

Kenji adroitly avoided his attack, and spun around before the other man could recover. "Ryu-sho-sen!" screamed Kenji, and drew his katana upward into the man's throat.

The man barely managed to avoid the blade to his throat, and a thin trickle of blood marked the cut to his collarbone.

"So, you know a few tricks!" he snarled at Kenji. "It takes more than tricks to beat a true swordsman!"

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is not a trick!" said Kenji in a low voice. He'd never drawn blood on an opponent before. Adrenaline was surging through his veins like a drug. It felt so sweet, he could barely keep from trembling in reaction.

He felt invincible. The blood pounded in his head and his limbs felt like they were made of steel.

"Only the Battousai was a master of the Hiten Mitsurugi and he's dead, you filthy little liar!" spat the man at him.

"Not dead," said Kenji fiercely. "He lives on in me!"

The man's eyes widened as Kenji stepped into the moonlight. "The Red Dragon!" he whispered, as Kenji's crimson hair shone in the moonlight. He drew back his blade to attack once again, beckoning Kenji to attack in return.

"Hiten Mitsurugi ryu-son-sen!" Kenji screamed. His sword flashed faster than the eye could see in wide arcs landing repeated slashes on the vital areas of his opponent.

The man fell at Kenji's feet and slackly rolled from the rooftop with a sickening thud to bleed out his life onto the dust of the street. Kenji looked at his sword, dripping with the man's blood and unthinkingly flicked the red viscous liquid off before he replaced it in the saya.

Kenji suddenly felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. He knelt in the moonlight and retched. Toshiro looked down in horror at the man lying in the street and then at Kenji.

"Come on, Kenji, we have to go!" whispered Toshiro. At 13, he was by 2 years younger than his friend.

"Nani?" whispered Kenji, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his gi. "So, this is what it was like to kill," he thought dazedly, tasting the sourness of vomit in his mouth.

"Come ON!" Toshiro urged, grabbing Kenji by his gi and pulling. "The police will be called as soon as someone notices that man's body!"

"'That man,'" thought Kenji, echoing Toshiro's voice in his head. "I didn't even know who he was, what his name was," he thought frantically.

He rose shakily to his feet. "I'm coming," he said hoarsely.

Silently they descended from the roof and ran down the alley, making their way through the silent streets of Tokyo.

"I can't go home," thought Kenji. His mind was a panic now. "Toshiro, I can't go home." He indicated his clothes. Although dark, they were spattered with blood and the smell of it was on him everywhere. He wanted to gag at the rusty scent that seemed to cling to him.

"Let's go down to the river," whispered Toshiro. Kenji nodded.

They ran silently towards the river and as they approached the bridge, Kenji began to strip of his now-loathsome gi, and knelt down at the water's edge. He plunged his bloody hands into the night-cooled waters and threw water into his hot face. He dropped the bloody cloth into the water and rinsed it over and over again. Toshiro watched his friend with concern. He'd never seen Kenji act like this. He seemed... frightened.

Kenji was never afraid of anything.

Kenji finally stood and wrung the water out of his soaking gi.

"Come on, Toshiro." He looked up. Seeing the look on Toshiro's face, he tried a reassuring smile but it died on his lips.

"I'll be all right, Toshiro, don't look at me like that," whispered Kenji.

"You don't look all right," said Toshiro doubtfully.

"You were sick," he said.

"I didn't know there'd be so much blood," Kenji whispered back, looking at his hands.

"Me neither," said Toshiro, his voice cracking with anxiety.

"I didn't know..." repeated Kenji, still looking at his hands.

Kenji walked over and sat down heavily under the bridge.

"You all right?" asked Toshiro, not being able to think of anything else.

"I don't know," said Kenji honestly.

"I can't believe you killed him," said Toshiro, sitting down beside Kenji. "We were just going to scare him off," he said, his voice raising.

"It just happened," said Kenji. "It was so fast..."

He put his head down on his raised knees and Toshiro awkwardly put his hand on Kenji's shoulder, and couldn't think of anything more to say.

Kenshin realized as soon as he awoke that something was wrong. It was the middle of the night. Something in the rhythm of the usual noises of the dojo was gone.

"Kenji!" he thought suddenly.

He rose silently and drew on his clothes. Kaoru mumbled and rolled over but kept sleeping.

He went to Kenji's room. Empty. Kenshin looked around to make sure. His katana was gone. Kenshin's heart lurched.

He ran to Ainoko's room. The six year old was sound asleep, clutching her doll.

Kenshin went silently out the door and the front gate of the dojo. "Yahiko," he thought suddenly.

He ran down the road the short distance to their small house.

"Yahiko!" he yelled, pounding on the front door.

A few moments later, Yahiko came to the door, still in his yukata.

"I want you to check, Yahiko," said Kenshin, panting a little, "Is Toshiro in bed?"

"What?" said Yahiko, still half asleep. "Go check and see if Toshiro is there," repeated Kenshin. "Kenji is gone and he's taken his katana with him."

"Shit!" muttered Yahiko, running down the hallway. He opened the door. Toshiro's futon in the room that he shared with his younger brother Shinya was empty.

Yahiko went to hurriedly put on his clothes.

"When I find that boy, he's going to be one sorry little bastard!" threatened Yahiko, angrily. "Toshiro's shinai is gone as well."

"Where do they usually go, Yahiko?" asked Kenshin.

"The river, usually, we'll look there first."

Kenji and Toshiro had fallen asleep against the pylon of the bridge, Toshiro unconsciously huddling against Kenji to share the warmth of their bodies. Kenji's now dry gi was hanging from on a nearby bush.

"Is that them?" asked Yahiko, pointing and sounding relieved. He spotted the two boys under the bridge in the beginnings of the morning light.

"Yes!" answered Kenshin, finally able to see the larger figure's red hair.

They walked over to the two sleeping boys.

"Kenji, Toshiro," said Kenshin, reaching down to shake his son's shoulder.

"Wake up!" he said, raising his voice.

"NO!" screamed Kenji, jumping up with lightening speed and fumbling for his absent katana, which he'd taken off of his hip and put on the ground next to him.

Kenshin leapt back, alarmed. "What's wrong, Kenji!?" he said, reaching out to grab Kenji's shoulders. The wild unfocused look in Kenji's pale eyes frightened him.

Toshiro's eyes opened when he heard Kenji scream. He cringed back and covered his eyes.

"What's going on here?" said Yahiko, going over to his son and grabbing him up by the back of his gi.

"T'chan!" yelled Toshiro and tried to wiggle from his father's iron grasp.

Kenshin tried to grab Kenji again, and succeeding this time, shook him gently. "Kenji, wake up, it's your father," he said.

Kenji blinked hard and shook his head to clear it. "To-chan," he whispered.

He looked down and noticed his father's hands on his arms. "I'm all right now," he said, quietly. "I won't hurt you."

"Did you fall in the river?" asked Kenshin, noticing that Kenji was bare from the waist up.

"My gi is over there," Kenji said, ignoring the question. "It should be dry now."

He shook himself free of his father's grasp and retrieved his gi, slipping it on and tying it.

"Kenji, what happened, why did you leave the house in the middle of the night? With your katana," asked Kenshin pointedly.

Kenji was tying his sword around his waist, and said nothing. His eyes had a guarded look and he refused to look at Kenshin.

Yahiko shook Toshiro by the back of his gi, "Talk!" he ordered. "I want to know why in the hell you two were out prowling around Tokyo in the middle of the night with weapons." He indicated Toshiro's shinai.

Toshiro bit his lip. Kenji looked at him fiercely, shaking his head.

"I c-can't," said the younger boy. "I won't tell," he cried. "I don't care what you do to me, I won't tell."

"Your loyalty to Kenji is commendable, Toshiro, but misplaced in this instance, I'm afraid," said Kenshin sternly.

"Kenji, will you let your friend suffer punishment to keep the truth from us?" he asked his son in the same stern tone.

Kenji met his father's eyes for a second and glared down at the shorter man.

"No," he said finally, lowering his gaze.

"I'll tell you what happened."

Kenji proceeded to relate the previous night's events in a detached monotone.

He avoided looking at his father's and Yahiko's faces. If he did, he wouldn't be able to finish.

"Are you sure the man was dead?" asked Kenshin hoarsely. His head was spinning and his hands were shaking.

"Yes, father," said Kenji in that same quiet monotone, "I'm sure."

"We have to go to the police, Kenji," he said. "It was obviously self- defense, but this must be reported."

"I know," said Kenji, still emotionless.

"Come on, then, we're going now," said Kenshin wearily.

Kenji got up and followed his father without a word.

Yahiko nodded at his son and they came along behind.

They left a report at the police station. They were not detained, somewhat to Kenshin's surprise.

"This man who was found dead in front of the Akabeko has long been wanted for many crimes," said the assistant inspector, looking at Kenji through his spectacles. "One could almost say you have performed a civic duty ridding the streets of such a man," he said, "although officially, I cannot condone such actions."

"Carrying swords is a minor offense, Himura Kenji," the man warned, "but since your father has done many favors for this department in the past, we will give you a warning this time," he said importantly.

Kenshin sighed with relief. "I thank you, Assistant Inspector," he said, bowing. Kenji did likewise.

"Keep the boy out of future trouble, Himura-san," said the policeman, "athough he doesn't appear to be a boy anymore," the man added.

Kenji was half a head taller than his father and still growing.

"No, definitely not a boy," agreed Kenshin, in a sagging voice.

They went home. "Your mother will be frantic," said Kenshin to his son. "I left without telling her anything."

"I'm sorry," said Kenji, tonelessly. His voice and eyes were still flat and emotionless.

Kenshin looked at him.

They walked along in silence until they reached the gates of the dojo.

Kaoru ran out to meet them.

"Where were you!?" she cried. Ainoko was crying and hugging her doll, clinging to her mother's kimono.

"Everything is fine," soothed Kenshin, embracing his wife. Ainoko clung to his leg. "It's all right," he said, bending down to hold the crying girl.

Kenji stood rigidly to one side, not looking up.

"Kenji, what is it?" asked his mother, trying to peer up into his wooden face.

"I can't," he began, his voice breaking.

"I can't say," he mumbled.

"You have to tell her," said Kenshin, looking up.

"NO!" said Kenji, and he ran to the bathhouse.

"What happened, what's wrong?" gasped Kaoru.

"Kenji was in a fight last night," Kenshin said tersely.

He looked down at Ainoko, who's large blue-green eyes were swimming with tears.

"I'll tell you the rest after breakfast, have you eaten?" he asked.

"No, I was too worried," Kaoru confessed.

"Come on, then, everything will be all right. I'll see to Kenji later. He just needs to... clean himself up."

Kaoru nodded, but cast a worried glance over at the bathhouse where Kenji was.

Kenji stripped himself of his clothes and scrubbed himself. For some reason, the scent of blood was still there. He kept scrubbing. He skin felt raw and bruised when he finally felt clean enough. He rinsed off the last traces of soap.

Finally, sighing he plunged himself into the cool water of the bath. It soothed his aching reddened skin. He suddenly doubled over and grabbed his hair, pulling it until it hurt to distract him from the molten pain in his chest.

He gasped, and his eyes filled with hot tears. An agonized groan escaped his lips and began to sob uncontrollably.

Minutes later, he sat in the cool water and rinsed his hot face. His hands were shaking but he had no more tears left in him.

He rose, dried himself, put his clothes back on and walked towards the dojo.

His father was waiting for him on the engawa.

"Come and have tea with me, Kenji," he said, indicating a tray on a small table.

Kenji sat down and nodded. Kenshin poured tea out for himself and Kenji.

"This will help you gather your thoughts," Kenshin told him. They raised their cups in unison. Kenji felt the hot liquid relax his clenched insides and sighed.

"I'll get you something to eat later," said his father, looking at him. "When you're feeling better."

Kenji's eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles and his pale skin was slightly greenish. His wet hair was plastered to his neck. He looked like someone recovering from a long illness.

"You look horrible," said Kenshin, quietly.

"I feel horrible," answered Kenji. "I feel as dead as that man." He groaned and passed his hand across his face, feeling faint.

"I remember," said Kenshin, putting down his tea cup and waiting.

"Does it go away?" asked Kenji hoarsely.

"Eventually it gets better," said Kenshin, "but it never leaves you, not really."

"I thought," began Kenji, "I thought I'd feel...stronger."

"No, killing doesn't make one stronger. Weaker, perhaps, but not stronger."

"No," said Kenji, "it doesn't."

They finished their tea quietly as the sun came through the clouds.

The End