A/N- I saw a scan of Kenshin, Kaoru, and their little boy Kenji and it
inspired me to do this short story, a one-shot in Kenshin's POV. So read
and enjoy!
KENJI
I have always been a person of many duties. Ever since I picked up my sakabatou and swore never to kill again, my ultimate duty became was a duty to others. I swore to myself that I would travel down the roads of the new Japan and help others in any way I could. It's the only way I know of that I can atone for those I've killed.
On this night, I sit alone beneath a bridge, watching the moonlit waters bubble and churn on by. Memories seem to flood with it, memories that I cherish or am haunted by, sometimes a little of both.
There are people who say you should forget about the past. In fact, I would tell others to do so. That makes me a hypocrite I suppose. My past, with so much death and suffering, is unforgettable. The vision of Tomoe dying in my arms is as plain as if it were yesterday. That death and so many others, countless, countless others.
But some memories aren't so bad. As the creek continues to push onward, I think of more happier times: meals at the Akabeko, watching training sessions at the dojo, running errands, cooking, cleaning. Some may say Kaoru kept me around because I did all the chores, but really I insisted. After letting me stay at her home and putting up with the chaos that followed me, I owed her. In addition, I had unknowingly fallen in love.
I rest my head up against the bridge wall and sigh. These nights of travel are lonely. If I concentrate enough, I can almost picture her. And I can almost picture someone else, someone I barely know but cherish all the same.
Kenji.
My son was born 10 years ago, when the sakura trees were blooming. I still remember returning home from picking up some tofu and Yahiko rushing out to meet me, yelling that the time had come. At that instant, I panicked, dropped the bucket, nearly ran the boy over, and made a beeline for the house. Once inside, I heard his voice, a loud clear sound that carried throughout the property.
Megumi was walking out of our room when I came. She smiled and told me it was a boy. My heart soared. I had a son. I, Himura Kenshin, was a father. I had to see him.
Kaoru was sitting up in bed, strange since she should have been exhausted from the birth. I have a tendency to underestimate her strength. I see the small bundle she has wrapped in her arms.
She looked at me standing in the doorway and beckoned me forward with her sparkling smile. I came and peeked into the folds of the shawl. There, I gazed upon my son's face for the first time.
All types of emotions raced through me. On one end, I was happy, thrilled. I finally had a child of my own. But then there was a sense of guilt, shame, and worry. Was I, a swordsman with bloodstained hands worthy of being called his father?
Kaoru seemed to read the fear on my face, but it only broadened her smile. "It's too late for doubts now that he's here, Kenshin."
That brought back my smile.
But now, as I try to envision his face in the sky, I find it difficult. Perhaps I am just tired. Or maybe it is because I have not seen him in so long. The last visit home was when he was only 7. No wonder he can't smile when he sees me. I'm ashamed I can't be a better father to him.
One day I will go home for good. One day my soul will be refreshed and I'll finally be at peace. I'll have atoned the deaths of all those people and be able to enter the gates of the Kamiya dojo once again. I'll be able to face Kenji.
For now, I am contented, as I finally envision him, my son, as a grown man. He stands proud and strong, his hair long, red, and flowing, his eyes wizened and bright. He smiles in a way that took so long for me to smile.
I made up my mind years ago that I would fight for and protect the present. Now, I am more proud of that goal. I will protect Kenji. I'll do everything I can to make sure he doesn't walk down this lonely road, as do I.
KENJI
I have always been a person of many duties. Ever since I picked up my sakabatou and swore never to kill again, my ultimate duty became was a duty to others. I swore to myself that I would travel down the roads of the new Japan and help others in any way I could. It's the only way I know of that I can atone for those I've killed.
On this night, I sit alone beneath a bridge, watching the moonlit waters bubble and churn on by. Memories seem to flood with it, memories that I cherish or am haunted by, sometimes a little of both.
There are people who say you should forget about the past. In fact, I would tell others to do so. That makes me a hypocrite I suppose. My past, with so much death and suffering, is unforgettable. The vision of Tomoe dying in my arms is as plain as if it were yesterday. That death and so many others, countless, countless others.
But some memories aren't so bad. As the creek continues to push onward, I think of more happier times: meals at the Akabeko, watching training sessions at the dojo, running errands, cooking, cleaning. Some may say Kaoru kept me around because I did all the chores, but really I insisted. After letting me stay at her home and putting up with the chaos that followed me, I owed her. In addition, I had unknowingly fallen in love.
I rest my head up against the bridge wall and sigh. These nights of travel are lonely. If I concentrate enough, I can almost picture her. And I can almost picture someone else, someone I barely know but cherish all the same.
Kenji.
My son was born 10 years ago, when the sakura trees were blooming. I still remember returning home from picking up some tofu and Yahiko rushing out to meet me, yelling that the time had come. At that instant, I panicked, dropped the bucket, nearly ran the boy over, and made a beeline for the house. Once inside, I heard his voice, a loud clear sound that carried throughout the property.
Megumi was walking out of our room when I came. She smiled and told me it was a boy. My heart soared. I had a son. I, Himura Kenshin, was a father. I had to see him.
Kaoru was sitting up in bed, strange since she should have been exhausted from the birth. I have a tendency to underestimate her strength. I see the small bundle she has wrapped in her arms.
She looked at me standing in the doorway and beckoned me forward with her sparkling smile. I came and peeked into the folds of the shawl. There, I gazed upon my son's face for the first time.
All types of emotions raced through me. On one end, I was happy, thrilled. I finally had a child of my own. But then there was a sense of guilt, shame, and worry. Was I, a swordsman with bloodstained hands worthy of being called his father?
Kaoru seemed to read the fear on my face, but it only broadened her smile. "It's too late for doubts now that he's here, Kenshin."
That brought back my smile.
But now, as I try to envision his face in the sky, I find it difficult. Perhaps I am just tired. Or maybe it is because I have not seen him in so long. The last visit home was when he was only 7. No wonder he can't smile when he sees me. I'm ashamed I can't be a better father to him.
One day I will go home for good. One day my soul will be refreshed and I'll finally be at peace. I'll have atoned the deaths of all those people and be able to enter the gates of the Kamiya dojo once again. I'll be able to face Kenji.
For now, I am contented, as I finally envision him, my son, as a grown man. He stands proud and strong, his hair long, red, and flowing, his eyes wizened and bright. He smiles in a way that took so long for me to smile.
I made up my mind years ago that I would fight for and protect the present. Now, I am more proud of that goal. I will protect Kenji. I'll do everything I can to make sure he doesn't walk down this lonely road, as do I.