Closure
By Meng Xiaojie
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all related properties are copyrights of Nobuhiro Watsuki, et al. This story is written for entertainment purposes only. No infringement is intended.
Warnings: Rated PG for slight language and a bit of angst. Post-Kyoto, pre-Jinchuu.
Ichiito Reijiro is an original character of mine—my apologies if anyone was confused about him.
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"I'm home!"
The familiar voice rang out across the yard, accompanied by the soft padding of sandaled feet against the tiles. Kaoru's head popped up, and a smile blossomed across her face. "Kenshin!"
Dressed in his plain blue gi and worn hakama, and carrying a basket of fresh vegetables tucked under one arm, Himura Kenshin didn't look anything like a legendary assassin. He didn't look much like a warrior at all, really, despite the weapon sheathed at his side. He flashed a sunny smile as he approached, absently brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Kaoru-dono," he said in greeting. "Sanosuke."
"It's about time, Kenshin," Sano complained. "We're starving here, and you're out on a vegetable run!"
Kenshin shrugged contritely, but his expression remained bright. "Apologies," he answered, "but I did not expect you and Yahiko back so soon." He cast a curious look at the young policeman sitting on the steps. "I was not expecting a guest for lunch, either, but we have plenty to spare…"
Suddenly reminded of their visitor, Kaoru mentally smacked herself. "Oh! Kenshin, this is Ichiito Reijiro," she introduced him. "Ichiito-san, this is Kenshin."
"Good afternoon, Ichiito-dono," Kenshin said politely.
Ichiito stared openly, his mouth hanging open in obvious shock. "You're Himura Kenshin-san?" he blurted out. Kenshin gave an affirmative nod, and the young officer flushed in embarrassment and looked away. "I'm sorry, it's just—I thought you'd be…well, taller."
Kaoru pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her giggles, but Sanosuke threw his head back and barked out a shameless guffaw. Even Yahiko re-emerged onto the porch in time to laugh uproariously at the rurouni's expense. Kenshin gave a rueful sigh and shifted the basket at his side. "Everyone says that," he muttered.
"Hate to mention it, Kenshin, but you are kinda scrawny," Sano sniggered good-naturedly. "People might take you seriously if you put on a few inches."
"And people might take you seriously, Sanosuke, if you didn't act like a brainless rooster," Kaoru interjected, leaping to Kenshin's defense out of habit.
"Better a brainless rooster than an ugly hag," Yahiko put in gleefully.
Kaoru's brows twitched in annoyance. "Anything's better than a pointy-eyed little midget."
"Hey, I'm only this short because someone keeps poisoning me every time she tries to cook!" the boy shot back.
"Speaking of which," Kenshin broke in hastily, trying to forestall the brewing eruption, "I believe it's nearly lunchtime. Ichiito-dono, will you be joining us?"
The young officer's head jerked up in surprise. "Wha—? Oh, well, that's not what I… I mean, I actually came to speak with you, Himura-san. It's a…personal matter." He dropped his gaze again. "And I did not intend any offense. It's just that I've heard a lot of things about you, and I wasn't sure what to expect…"
"No offense was taken," Kenshin assured him. After a thoughtful beat, he continued, "I think you should stay for lunch, Ichiito-dono. It's the very least I can do, since you've waited this long. We can talk afterwards."
Kaoru wondered at Kenshin's uncharacteristically sober tone, but Ichiito merely gave the diminutive swordsman a long, contemplative look. Then, slowly, he nodded his assent. "All right, Himura-san. Thank you."
Kenshin tipped his head sincerely. "You are very welcome. Kaoru-dono, I was thinking of making chirashizushi. Would you wash off the vegetables for me while I prepare the fish and rice?"
"Of course." Kaoru reached out and accepted the shopping basket from the rurouni, who politely excused himself and headed inside. For her part, Kaoru bound up her sleeves and walked back to the well, snatching up a clean wooden basin as she passed. Once she'd drawn up a few buckets of fresh water, she began to scrub the mushrooms, cucumbers, bamboo shoots, and other vegetables in earnest; she knew from experience how quickly Kenshin could whip up chirashizushi, and she didn't want to make everyone wait for her.
Sure enough, Kenshin had already neatly filleted the fish by the time Kaoru re-entered the kitchen, and the rice was simmering splendidly as well. Kaoru sighed and gave a self-deprecating smile. "Here are the vegetables, Kenshin. I tried to hurry."
Kenshin returned the smile, his eyes sparkling warmly. "Thank you, Kaoru-dono. You have perfect timing, actually. By the time the vegetables are cut, the rice will be ready."
"Oh, stop trying to make me feel better," Kaoru chided him, but her expression brightened considerably at his kindness. She even laughed aloud at his murmured, "Oro?" He always tries to cheer me up, Kaoru mused affectionately. Sweet Kenshin.
A companionable silence grew between them as the rurouni swiftly carved the vegetables into thin slices, occasionally checking on the rice. Kaoru watched him work, and she found herself thinking again about his abrupt change of attitude earlier. He'd seemed his normal cheerfully-exasperated-mediator self, but a concerned glimmer had suddenly crept into his gaze, and his tone had taken on a darker edge. Why was Kenshin so serious about Ichiito-san staying for lunch? Kaoru wondered.
"That young man carries a deep sadness within," Kenshin murmured abruptly, as though he'd heard Kaoru's silent query. He began spooning the rice into bowls, and the glance he gave her spoke terrible volumes. "I do not know the cause of his pain, but he will look to me for an answer. This one could not offer him anything, not even lunch, without acknowledging that."
Kaoru stared down at the callused hands expertly arranging the chirashizushi, once again stunned by the rurouni's keen insight. "Kenshin…Ichiito-san knows who you were," she admitted softly. "I'm sorry. He promised he wasn't here to cause trouble, and he came with Kawaji-san's permission, but still…"
"Kaoru-dono," Kenshin interrupted gently. "I still have many sins to reckon with. The apology is not yours to make."
With that, the conversation came to a tidy halt. As Kenshin finished preparing the food, Kaoru measured out and brewed more tea. In the background, she heard Sanosuke and the others relocating to the dojo's main room, where the low dining table and seating cushions had already been arranged. I hope one of those numbskulls remembers to grab an extra cushion for Ichiito-san, Kaoru thought peevishly.
Thankfully, one of the numbskulls indeed remembered, and the Kamiya dojo was soon host to an entertaining luncheon for five. Between mouthfuls and squabbles, Sanosuke and Yahiko recounted their day's fishing woes, up to and including the near-dunking the latter had gotten after he'd threatened to throw Sano's shoes in the river. Kaoru nearly choked on her rice when Sano imitated the boy's flailing and shrieking, much to Yahiko's irritation. Meanwhile, Kenshin shook his head and smiled in amusement, chuckling lightly and offering sporadic comments. Ichiito was very quiet all throughout, eating slowly and thoughtfully, but he did laugh at Sanosuke's comical impersonation.
After lunch, Yahiko grumblingly cleared and washed the dishes, while Kenshin stowed the dining table and rearranged the sitting room. Kaoru retreated to the kitchen and fixed Kenshin's favorite green tea, knowing that the rurouni always enjoyed a steaming cup right after a meal. Plus, she reasoned privately, he needed a tangible reminder that no matter what bygone demons Ichiito Reijiro dredged up, Himura Kenshin would always have a home—a family—at the Kamiya dojo. With me, Kaoru added silently.
By the time Kaoru stepped back into the main room with the tea, Kenshin and Ichiito had already seated themselves across from each other, with their respective weapons placed on the floor alongside their cushions. The young officer's navy cap lay crisp and forgotten next to his saber. Sanosuke's long silhouette sat propped against the open shouji's wooden frame, and Yahiko had plopped down a short distance to Kenshin's right. Someone had thoughtfully saved Kaoru a seat directly next to the rurouni, and her heart warmed to think that maybe Kenshin himself had done so.
"Here, Kenshin," Kaoru said softly, and Kenshin accepted the cup she proffered with an appreciative murmur. She then padded over and offered the other cup to Ichiito. He took the tea gratefully, his dark eyes almost apologetic as he thanked her. Kaoru gave him a kind smile in return. The apology isn't yours to make, either, Ichiito-san, she thought sadly as returned to settle herself by Kenshin's side.
Several quiet moments swept past. Kenshin sipped his tea contemplatively, waiting for Ichiito to speak. The younger man seemed out of sorts; he would glance now and again at the rurouni, then return his gaze to his own cup, his brows furrowed.
Finally, Ichiito took in a deep, slightly shaky breath. "I don't really know how to begin, Himura-san," he confessed. "I've imagined this for a long time, but now that I'm really here…" Another short beat of silence. "I suppose I should reassure you—and everyone else—that I didn't come to start a fight."
Kenshin smiled amenably. "This one avoids fighting, as well."
Ichiito's expression clouded, and an unreadable emotion flitted across his face. "Yes, so I've heard."
When his guest seemed hesitant to initiate any further conversation, Kenshin obligingly laid down an inquiry of his own. "If I may ask, Ichiito-dono," he began politely, "how did you learn of my past? Not many people around here know of it, and you seem to know a great deal."
Flushing in both embarrassment and relief, Ichiito replied, "Um…it was an accident, really. I was stationed in Kyoto until about a month ago, and I overheard Fujita-san talking with the commissioner. He mentioned the name 'Battousai,' and I couldn't help but listen in." He shrugged vaguely. "Kawaji-san is my mother's second cousin. He arranged for me to transfer to Tokyo, and when I asked him about you, he said—" Again, Ichiito hesitated, but at Kenshin's encouraging nod, he continued. "He said I should feel free to bring my questions to you. He said that you would answer truthfully."
Kenshin nodded seriously. "Kawaji-dono is correct on both counts."
Ichiito glanced at Kaoru and the others. "One other thing, Himura-san. What I came to speak to you about…it involves Kyoto, and your past. Is that—?"
"Speak," the rurouni invited softly. His tone was calmly neutral, but Kaoru noticed the skin around his eyes constricting slightly. "Speak," he said again. "Everyone here knows of my history. They have my trust."
Ichiito closed his eyes briefly, as though steeling himself. "I have two questions to ask, Himura-san. Before that, though, I must tell you some of my history. My father was Ichiito Masaru. He was the chief cook at the Flying Heron, a restaurant on the west bank of the Kamogawa, near the Gojo Ohashi Bridge."
Kenshin tilted his head attentively. "I know of it."
"The Flying Heron paid my father very well, so my mother could stay home with me," Ichiito said. "Father had also learned some swordplay in his younger days, and once in a while he gave private lessons to earn extra money." He chuckled suddenly, his expression softening with reminiscence. "I remember watching him do his kata outside, especially when we went out on picnics. 'Rei-chan,' my mother would say, 'do you see your father dancing with his sword? Someday he might need his sword to protect him, and this dance will help the blade remember how to move.'"
Ichiito paused, his gaze trained on the tea cup clasped between his palms. "Father was very much in favor of the Shogunate. I wasn't old enough to understand what was going on, but I do remember when Mother began keeping me indoors after the sun set. She said that bad men were out on the street at night, and that I could get hurt if I wasn't inside with her.
"What I didn't know was that the 'bad men' were Ishin Shishi assassins, hunting down Shogunate officials after dark. The killings kept escalating, despite the bounty notices and the Shinsengumi patrols. No one wanted to go out, not even on the main roads.
"The Flying Heron's business began to suffer, and Father's wages dwindled. He decided to hire himself out as a bodyguard to a Shogunate administrator named Tatsumaki Saburo." Ichiito raised his eyes and watched Kenshin's expression intently. "Do you know that name, Himura-san?"
"Yes, I do," Kenshin answered quietly, a faint note of pain in his voice. "Tatsumaki-san was installed a short time before I joined the Ishin Shishi."
The younger man bowed his head in acknowledgement. "My father spoke well of Tatsumaki-san. 'He's an important man, Rei-chan,' he would say. 'I have to protect him at night, so the bad men can't hurt him while he travels.' And every night, Father took his sword, kissed my mother, and told us that he would be back in the morning. Mother and I used to get up before sunrise to wait for him. She would make breakfast, and I would sit at the window and wait to see him coming down the road…"
Ichiito fell silent, and his grip on the cup tightened a fraction. When he spoke again, his voice was low and rough. "I remember the morning, though... Mother got up early to make Father's favorite breakfast, but he didn't come home when he was supposed to. We waited until the sun came up, but he still didn't come. 'He's probably having breakfast with Tatsumaki-san,' my mother told me, and I believed her.
"I waited all day…but Father didn't come back. He wasn't home when I went to sleep, and he wasn't home when I woke up the next morning." Ichiito's voice trembled faintly, but he doggedly pressed on. "Two days later, we learned that Tatsumaki-san had been assassinated by an Ishin Shishi hitokiri. All of his bodyguards were killed…including my father." The words dropped like dead sakura petals from the young man's lips, and he seemed to shrink in on himself, visibly struggling for control.
No one spoke. Kaoru found herself clasping one hand to her lips, her vision blurring with hot tears of horrified sympathy. She, too, knew the pain of losing a beloved father to the ruin of war. She stole a glance at Kenshin, then, and her innards writhed with dread; the rurouni's eyes were deep, dark pits of remorse, and his hands had curled into tight, white-knuckled knots. Kenshin was the hitokiri, Kaoru realized with a spurt of fresh horror. He killed Tatsumaki Saburo, and those bodyguards…and Ichiito-san's father…
"They said the Ishin Shishi had conjured an evil spirit," Ichiito murmured at length. "A terrible demon hitokiri, who passed through walls and struck men down before they could even beg for mercy." He dared a fleeting look at Kenshin's face, but found himself snared in the elder man's shadowed gaze, unable to look away. "Mother said that the bad men had taken Father from us, just because he was protecting Tatsumaki-san. 'It was him,' she told me." Ichiito's voice dropped to a hushed, livid whisper. "'That demon…the hitokiri Battousai. He killed your father, Reijiro, and don't you forget it!'"
Though low in volume, the words were a whiplash of fury in a sea of sorrow. Ichiito's eyes were dark, pinched crescents, and his breath hitched almost imperceptibly. Kenshin did not move, nor blink, but merely held the young officer's gaze. The moment seemed to stretch into bleak, mute infinity.
In the end, it was Kenshin who broke the silence. "What would you ask of this one, Ichiito Reijiro-dono?" he asked quietly, his voice drawn taut with a curious blend of soul-deep sorrow and heartfelt tenderness.
Ichiito recoiled in startlement, the momentary spell shattered, and he lowered his gaze. "I…" He cleared his throat, obviously attempting to regain some composure before making his request. "I've never known how my father's life ended," he managed finally. "All these years, I've never known whether he stood and died bravely, or…or ran, and died a coward's death." Ichiito drew himself upright and brought his eyes up to meet Kenshin's once more. "I would ask that you tell me, Himura-san, if you can. How did my father die?"
Kaoru held her breath apprehensively. She darted a look at Sanosuke, and saw the same anticipatory dread scrawled across his sun-browned features. The events surrounding their recent journey to Kyoto had given them all a peek at their rurouni's bloody past, but they'd not yet heard an actual narrative from Kenshin himself. He said we had his trust, she thought worriedly, but he probably didn't expect Ichiito-san to ask for a full account of…of what he did. "Kenshin, we can leave…" she murmured hesitantly.
"No." The word was soft but certain, brooking no arguments. Kenshin swept an unreadable glance across his friends' uncertain faces, holding each gaze for a single heartbeat, speaking to each of them in turn. "You followed me to Kyoto and stood by my side, even after I abandoned you with hardly a warning. You have all fought, and worried, and suffered on my account. I will not hide this truth from any of you."
He turned his focus once more to his young guest. "Nor will I hide it from you, Ichiito-dono. Mine was the blade that took Tatsumaki-san's life, and the lives of his guards. If your honored father was in their company, he surely died at my hands."
Ichiito gave a small nod, his face pale and pinched, but he said nothing. Kenshin seemed to draw inward then, his eyes vanishing into the shadows beneath his bangs. "I remember that night very well," he began softly. "I had been informed that Tatsumaki-san was a regular patron of the Black Rabbit, a tavern in one of the…seedier parts of town. He would arrive every evening just as the sun set, and leave several hours later—usually drunk. He would then rely on his bodyguards to guide him safely to his home.
"I was still new to the Ishin Shishi; I didn't really know what to expect. Katsura-san had given me a few trial duties to start—first guarding our own men, and then taking down lesser Shogunate bureaucrats, with one guard at the most—but Tatsumaki-san was to be my first 'real' assignment." Kenshin's grip on his tea cup tightened, the tendons in his hands jutting painfully. "Izuka-san… he told me that I wouldn't see any major difference. He said I just needed to be fast and accurate, the same as before.
"I took up position just after sundown, in a dark alleyway down the street from the Black Rabbit. Tatsumaki-san and his party didn't leave the tavern until well after midnight. They kept to the main roads most of the way, out in the open, but I knew all of Kyoto's alleys and rooftops. The guards didn't notice when I followed them. And they didn't think anything of taking a shortcut through the tea garden."
Kenshin lifted his head slightly, but his gaze remained dark and distant. With each word he spoke, the hollow ache in his voice deepened. "I met them under a stand of sakura trees. I had been ordered to introduce myself as 'the Ishin Shishi's divine justice,' and I told Tatsumaki-san that he was going to die for the sake of the new era. He was too drunk to realize what was going on at first, but his bodyguards knew." He paused, and closed his eyes. "All eight of them."
At that, a shocked gasp fled Kaoru's lips, and her hand flew to her mouth. Her stomach roiled in sick horror at the number. Oh my God, Kenshin…
The rurouni pressed on determinedly, his tone low and grim. "They weren't really frightened, at first. I was much smaller than all of them, and I was greatly outnumbered. No one knew the name 'hitokiri Battousai.' I hadn't earned my…reputation yet."
Kenshin leveled a frank, solemn gaze on his young guest. "Ichiito-dono, I have no way of knowing whether your father was among the four guards who charged me, or if he stayed at Tatsumaki-san's side. I don't know if he fell before I got to Tatsumaki-san, or if I silenced him afterward. But I do know one thing for certain: not one of those men flinched from his duty. None of them tried to run. They stood their ground, to the very end."
The swordsman canted his head forward slightly, and when he spoke again, his voice suddenly sounded much older, much more tired. "Ichiito-dono, your father died an upright, honorable man. That is the truth."
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Thank you for reading. Many thanks to all of the reviewers so far; I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far! Part three coming soon—in which we learn of a certain widow's encounter with a jaded young assassin.
Chirashizushi is a bowl of rice served with slices of raw fish and vegetables on top—also known as just chirashi. Yum!
Also, I'd like to thank everyone who read and reviewed The Price. Your comments made my little heart sing!
