Kenshin's procession was silent and mercifully quick, all too much like his death. Kaoru's eyes stayed dry throughtout the whole affair, even when they lowered his body into the ground.
The crowd was small. Yahiko had only informed Kenshin's closest friends, and at the request of Kaoru; Enishe, Saitou, and Hiko. Misao bawled like the child she was, and was comforted (however awkwardly) by Aoshi. Enishe showed up, but avoided Kaoru's glance. Somehow, Kaoru had figured Saitou was alive and well...he came... hidden in shadow for the most part. Hiko however, declined.
"Why do I need to see my stupid apprentence? I told him not to come to me when he got in trouble, and it looks like he really screwed up this time." Truth be told, Kaoru thought it was because his body wouldn't be able to handle the trip.
Somehow, it seemed Sojiro Hiko would never die. He would always remain powerful and prime. But memories of battles are often glorified, and no human is immortal. Hiko was old, not long for the next world. He would die like his student; humble, with the exception of knowing all the secrets of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. The last master of the mysterious sword style...
Where had the last few years left everyone? When Kenshin, the superglue that keep everyone together, left for the continent... Well, contact became scarce. Maybe it was his absence. Without Kenshin there, did we really talk like we used to? What was there to talk about, really? Even if we steered away from the topic of Kenshin, he would still come up, like a disease. That's what Kenshin was, an epidemic. A purple-wearing, lifesaving, red-headed, sakabatou-wielding, oro-chanting, violet-eyed epidemic.
The crowd was small. Yahiko had only informed Kenshin's closest friends, and at the request of Kaoru; Enishe, Saitou, and Hiko. Misao bawled like the child she was, and was comforted (however awkwardly) by Aoshi. Enishe showed up, but avoided Kaoru's glance. Somehow, Kaoru had figured Saitou was alive and well...he came... hidden in shadow for the most part. Hiko however, declined.
"Why do I need to see my stupid apprentence? I told him not to come to me when he got in trouble, and it looks like he really screwed up this time." Truth be told, Kaoru thought it was because his body wouldn't be able to handle the trip.
Somehow, it seemed Sojiro Hiko would never die. He would always remain powerful and prime. But memories of battles are often glorified, and no human is immortal. Hiko was old, not long for the next world. He would die like his student; humble, with the exception of knowing all the secrets of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu. The last master of the mysterious sword style...
Where had the last few years left everyone? When Kenshin, the superglue that keep everyone together, left for the continent... Well, contact became scarce. Maybe it was his absence. Without Kenshin there, did we really talk like we used to? What was there to talk about, really? Even if we steered away from the topic of Kenshin, he would still come up, like a disease. That's what Kenshin was, an epidemic. A purple-wearing, lifesaving, red-headed, sakabatou-wielding, oro-chanting, violet-eyed epidemic.