In Due Time

It was sunset, and Kenshin found himself standing before three rough stones amidst a field of crosses.

"What is your name, boy?" the tall, solemn man beside him asked.

"Shinta."

"A child's name," the man scorned. "Too soft for a swordsman. From now on you are Kenshin."

"Ken... shin?"

The tall man turned his dark eyes to the boy in front of him. There was a power in those eyes. So dark and lost... but at the same time, there was a spark of something deep within them, fighting to survive. "I am Hiko Seijuro. Learn the name of your new shishou..."

And weeks later, in a small shack, the powerful man handing him a blade. "For your training."

Kenshin politely refused the sword. "But Shishou... I'm not allowed to carry a katana. My father was only a farmer. I don't even have a surname."

His shishou smirked. "You are not to be judged by your lineage here. Names don't matter to me. In this place, no such rules exist. You are a swordsman here." Hiko sighed, looking tired. "But I'm no idealist. It will matter to those bakas whom you'll meet in the real world, won't it?"

Kenshin didn't answer. This was it. What he'd been waiting for. The moment when Hiko changed his mind and realized how foolish an idea it had been to take this boy as an apprentice.

"So," the man continued quietly, taking the youth by surprise, "it is just as with the name 'Shinta.' You shall be renamed, to fit the idiotic ideals of this decaying world." That soft darkness was in his eyes again. "This is your first lesson, Kenshin. Choose your battles. Because there are some things, like this, that aren't worth fighting." Hiko paused, thoughtfully. "Himura," he said suddenly, as though an idea had just struck him. "You will be Himura. Tbat is a good name for you."

Kenshin was surprised to see one of the rare moments when his shishou had smiled at him. The powerful man once again offered the blade to his deshi. "Now, take your sword... Himura Kenshin."

Kenshin's eyes snapped open as he awoke from the dream. He looked around the room. Sun already streamed into the small shack. Both Hiko-sama and Miki were already up and going about their business.

Kenshin stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to sort through his turbulent thoughts over the dull throbbing in his head. Was it possible? He closed his eyes and frowned, before finally getting up. He'd been asleep too long. Kenshin quickly rolled up the futon and slipped his gi on. He ran his fingers through his long, red hair before tying it back out of his face. He then made his way out of the shack and into the hot summer sunlight.

Hiko-sama sat on an old log, watching his deshi practice. When he noticed Kenshin hovering in the doorway, he motioned for the rurouni to join him. "Did you sleep well, Kenshin?" he asked.

Kenshin sat, smiling. "Well enough, Hiko-sama. I wish you had woken me up. I'd have helped with some chores."

The old man smiled. "That's what I have Miki for. Anyway, you needed to rest. You looked like you were having some active dreams." He turned away from Kenshin to criticize Miki's swing.

Kenshin watched the frustrated boy wipe the sweat from his brow, his dark eyes flashing occasionally with annoyance as his shishou spoke.

"Himura Miki... Was it possible?" he wondered, thinking back to his dream. He tried to picture this boy taller, more powerful. With long black hair sweeping over a red and white cloak.

Kenshin shook his head. He couldn't do it. He couldn't see his own shishou in this boy. A coincidence, then?

Not likely.

But still... no less likely than this child being his Shishou.

"Kenshin." Hiko-sama's voice startled Kenshin from his thoughts.

"Yes, Hiko-sama?" he asked, looked back at the older man beside him.

Hiko-sama smirked. "Would you do me a favor?"

Kenshin didn't answer, a bit worried about this favor. He looked at Miki, who didn't seem any happier with things.

Hiko-sama appeared to be unconcerned. "My baka deshi seems unwilling to listen to my assessment of his poor fighting skills. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him."

"I don't need any help!" Miki snapped. "Especially from him. I've never even seen him fight. And honestly, how much strength cane someone who carries a sakabatou have? He briefly shot an apologetic look at the redhead.

Hiko-sama's bright eyes assessed Kenshin. "A... sakabatou?"

Kenshin closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. "Hiko-sama," he said softly, ignoring the reference to his sword, "Miki is right, that he is. He has no reason to think that I fight any better than he does. Why should he trust my opinions?"

The old man's eyes twinkled. "Then why don't you show him, Kenshin?"

"Oro?"

"He could use a sparring partner other than myself. Someone whose moves he doesn't already know."

Kenshin shook his head. "Hiko-sama, I don't think that's a good idea, that I do not."

Miki sighed. "Let's just do it, rurouni. There's no talking my Shishou out of something once he's gotten an idea into his head."

Kenshin sighed, slowly standing. "Alright. But not long, please."

The old man didn't answer, watching Kenshin walk to Miki and stand facing him.

Kenshin could feel the man's eyes on them.

Miki seemed unconcerned, moving into an offensive position. Then, withing moments, he attacked Kenshin.

The redhead easily read the move and sidestepped it, watching to see how the boy recovered.

Miki shot a glare at him, and tried again. This time, Kenshin didn't even bother sidestepping, instead pulling his sheathed weapon up and using it defensively.

"Miki," Kenshin said softly, as the boy jumped back, "why are you doing this? You're holding back."

The boy's eyes widened. "What makes you...?"

"I can read it in your ki, Miki. You're better than this. Show me what you can do. You won't hurt me, so don't worry."

That last comment triggered Miki's anger, and his eyes flashed. "I won't hurt you? I can beat you easily, rurouni."

And he was moving. Kenshin had to admit, the boy's speed and control were impressive. Especially coming from one so young. But then again... if this boy really was to become Hiko Seijuro the thirteenth, it shouldn't have been any surprise.

A thought struck Kenshin as he blocked Miki's blows. If this boy really was his shishou, then... The rurouni's eyes narrowed, fading from lavender to blue as a mischievous smile lit on his face, an expression he hadn't had since training with his shishou twenty years ago.

Before Miki knew what was happening, Kenshin was in the air, finally drawing his blade. "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu tsui sen!"

The powerful attack flung the boy to the ground, and threw his katana a distance away.

Kenshin landed lightly nearby, and looked back at the youth.

Miki wasn't moving.

Kenshin knelt beside the boy, worry erasing the fun of possibly having knocked his shishou flat. "Miki, are you alright? Miki?" He sent an alarmed look at the old man. "Hiko-sama!"

"He's fine," the older man said lightly. "Although, I must say, I didn't expect you to use ryu tsui sen on him." The old man chuckled. "Maybe you dropped his cocky attitude down a little. He should know how to block that move by now."

There was a soft moan, and Kenshin turned his attention back to the boy. "Miki! Are you alright? I'm sorry, that I am. I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Miki's eyes finally fluttered open, and he moaned again, slowly sitting up. His eyes remained unfocused, but then it was as though the last few moments came rushing back to him, and he turned to stare in shock at Kenshin, eyes wide. "You... how did you... that was ryu tsui sen! You know Hiten Mitsurugi? How?"

He turned to stare at Hiko-sama, but the old man wasn't even paying any attention to them. He was too busy pouring himself a fresh cup of sake.

Kenshin sweatdropped as he realized he was going to have to explain this to Miki without Hiko-sama's help. The rurouni remained focused on the boy, but he carefully avoided looking Miki in the eye. "I should not have been so hard on you, that I should not. I could have seriously hurt you, and that would have been unforgivable. I am truly sorry."

Miki was just staring at him. Clearly this Kenshin, whoever he was, was highly skilled. What was with all of this humility? "I don't care about that," he said, brushing Kenshin's supporting hand away, and standing a bit unsteadily. "I'm fine. But you..." He glanced back at Hiko-sama. "Did Shishou train you, then? You act like you know this place. Were you his previous apprentice? The one who failed?"

"Miki!" Hiko-sama's voice was sharp, and Kenshin saw a flash of anger in the old man's normally calm eyes.

"No, Miki," Kenshin said softly. "I was trained by a Hiko Seijuro, that I was. But it was not your shishou."

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Just how old are you, then?"

Kenshin sighed. How was it that every encounter inevitably led to his age? "Thirty," he replied.

"Thirty! But Shishou said that his shishou died over forty years ago! You're not old enough to have been trained by him!"

Kenshin blinked at the youth. Not old enough? That was a first.

Miki looked from Kenshin to his shishou and back again. Then he shook his head, smirking suddenly. "Oh, I get it. This is some big set-up, right? Hiko-sama partially trained you and you took off on him, so neither of you wants to admit that you know each other, because then you'd have to admit that you both screwed up."

Kenshin said nothing, alarmed at how close the boy had come to his own personal truth.

Miki snorted, taking the silence as agreement. "That's so stupid. You two should just make up, so you can finish your training." He looked at Kenshin critically. I mean, you're kind of small for a master of Hiten Mitsurugi, but you're pretty good. I wouldn't mind training with you. As long as I get the cloak in the end."

"Miki," Hiko-sama muttered.

"You can have it," the redhead replied.

"Kenshin," the old man snapped. "Don't encourage him." He sent a sharp look at Miki. "Baka," he said, "I want you to go to town and buy some more rice and sake. You only got enough for you and I yesterday, and we have a guest now." Hiko-sama tossed him a small pouch of money. "Are you good to walk?"

Miki caugh the pouch, and nodded. "Fine." He walked over and picked up his katana, sheathing it. Then he sent Kenshin a serious look. "If I am right, though, you really should finish your training. No good shishou would hold a mistake like that against you."

"Miki!"

The boy shrugged off his shishou's warning tone, and began walking down the path.

Kenshin stared after him in stunned silence before saying, "I should go with him. He's injured, and shouldn't have to care that load alone."

"No," replied the old man, stopping Kenshin in his tracks. "That boy doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut, be he's no fool. He'd have told me if he was hurt too badly. He'll be fine. I think perhaps you should stay here... so we can talk."

Author's Note: Look! I've finally updated this! Well, I can't feel too guilty. I did warn you that this story is for fun, so updates wouldn't be regular. On that note, sorry about the wait on Out of Time. Real life has been extra rough lately (no, I'm not trying to use that as an excuse!) and it has been hard to find the energy and the motivation to write anything at all. I hope to have an update on Out of Time within a week or two. Please be patient. I'm trying, and I'd rather take longer and get a better chapter (and feel better) than rush it. Okay?

On a lighter note (and I'm sure I'll be posting this notice in most of my fics at least once). I now post original fiction on FictionPress(dot)com. So far I only have one poem and one short story posted, but I'd love it if you'd check my stuff out! I have no real readership over there yet. (sniffle, sniffle) Only one review! (laughs) Okay, enough of the shameless plugging. If you'd like to check it out, though, go to my bio page here and click on the link at the top that says "homepage" and that will connect you to my FictionPress bio page. My penname is the same there (SiriusFan13). Why change a good thing, right?

(laughs)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading, being understanding about the wait, and reviewing!

Dewa mata!