Chapter 9 – Shin'ichi
Kenshin knew how to be alone with himself—he had developed techniques that made his lonely road bearable most of the time; he now knew better how to be with people—again, tolerable, at least for a period. He had never known, however, what he was experiencing now, in this out-of-the-way village: silent, undemanding companionship; companionship with no hint of foreboding and lacking any stain of shared, regrettable history.
At first, he'd broken their silences only cautiously, dreading the dissipation of this serendipitous pleasure, wanting to prolong the sensation, needing the sanctuary.
The very morning after he'd arrived, he'd awakened to find Shin'ichi already up, water for tea nearly ready. Koro posed demurely on the engawa, clearly familiar with the boy's habits and waiting for the moment the activity would turn interesting.
Kenshin sat up and stretched, watching the boy's smooth, practiced movements as he folded his futon and stored it in the corner.
"Good morning, Shin-kun."
The boy replied without turning from changing into his day clothes.
"Good morning, Kenshin-san. I hope you slept well."
"I was most comfortable, thank you."
Rising, Kenshin folded his own bedding and placed it neatly on top of Shin'ichi's, then retrieved his gi from its place on the floor next to where he'd slept. He shrugged into it and after loosening the ties of his hakama, tucked in its bottom and re-tightened the ties.
"Shall I make the tea?"
"No, thanks—I know where everything is."
Kenshin felt at a bit of a loss. What he wanted to do, what he'd planned to do, at this still-dark hour when everyone else should have been still deeply asleep, was sneak out for his kata. Entering the village yesterday, he'd glimpsed hints of a small but serviceable meadow, and he was eager to try it out. Now it seemed rude to simply walk out on his host.
"The day is quite new, isn't it?"
"Yes."
Hmmm… Is this the kind of thing that Okami used to complain about?
Kenshin was reluctant to pry outright, but he found himself uncharacteristically curious about what was afoot; judging from Koro's attitude, this hour of rising seemed to be a habit with the boy, and it was early indeed, even for country-folk, who needed to get a jump on the day's short hours, even shorter and more precious as fall slid into winter.
"Is there any way I can assist you, Shin-kun?"
The boy looked up in surprise—he always performed this chore alone, especially given his preferred hour—and thought for a moment. He seemed to need to reconcile his accustomed solitude with the novel idea of including this solemn visitor—how much should he reveal? Would he regret allowing another into his privacy?
"I'm just going into the fields to hunt gophers."
It had been some time since Kenshin had done any farming, had tended a crop and worried over its progress, but this statement conjured pleasant remembrances of other, also peaceful, times; months of warm silence spent under the summer sun, healing, growing, learning to love. He was well into the memories before he realized that, for the first time, they had come without their customary sting, that he was also recalling the joys of that time. He found this disjointing: guilt, and relief, and uncertainty, and, yes, fear—fear of what this meant, fear that he would forget and lose the only part of his heart that he still valued, fear that he wouldn't forget and would remain an emotional cripple forever.
"Would you like company?"
They regarded each other across the dark room, their figures lit only by the orange glow of the fire crackling gently under the steaming tea water, their soft shadows flickering against the walls, not even a glimmer of dawn in the blackness outside the one open window.
Winter was closing in fast and the morning air was no longer merely chill but decidedly cold. The afternoon snow flurries remained each day longer on the ground; increasingly each morning, yesterday's snow still lay, lace-like, on the earth. Soon would come the first real snowfall, and with it, a change in their daily routine: kata would change to emphasize survival, stances would be modified to accommodate unstable footings, bathing habits would change. Slightly.
But today, today would still belong to autumn, would still hold the bright memory of summer in the blue of its sky, in its mid-day warmth, in the strength of its sun.
In the dark, he rose quietly, careful not to disturb his master, although as he matured, he began to suspect that Hiko merely pretended, pretended so that Kenshin would always feel the weight of responsibility, pretended so that Kenshin could learn the pleasures of duty, pretended so that Kenshin had a few moments each day with his own thoughts.
Pretended so that Kenshin, and not Hiko, would be the one awake and alone in the chill of the pre-dawn cabin.
In the dark, he folded the thin futon and changed out of yukata into gi and mompe. In the dark, he stoked the fire back to life.
In the now soft, warm glow, he picked up the water bucket and his fishing rod and slipped out the cabin door, out under the spangled net of the night sky. The walk to the river took all of two minutes, but while he was still quite young, it was two minutes that tested his courage. Now—now that he was nearly a man and had trodden this path every morning since he'd been brought to the mountainside, alone every morning since Hiko had decided he could manage on his own—it was two minutes of private contemplation, two minutes to center himself, two minutes to connect his spirit with the world and face it in his own way, free from the demands of training and chores.
He loved these two minutes.
"Yes."
Wordlessly, they finished dressing, sat beside each other on the engawa fastening their tabi and sandals, while Koro began pacing behind them, sniffing elbows and backs, down the steps to inspect feet, back up the steps checking the gopher bags, whimpering to encourage haste—he was only a little dog and had only a little patience and felt the wisdom of conserving it.
They were nearing the lowest field before either of them spoke again.
"Does no one else help you with this?"
"My father did this task for the village—it's better with fewer people. When I got older, old enough to understand and learn stillness and stealth, he took me with him. After he…" The boy paused. "After the storm, I continued."
They reached the edge of the terraced paddy and stopped, searching for the little dog among the drained rows of rice, fat seedheads ready for the harvest beginning later that day. In the grey light, they could hear the soft plop of dew dripping heavily onto the damp earth from the tips of leaves. There was no sign of Koro.
Then the smallest rustle among the plants to their right, the tip of a fiercely wagging red tail, followed by a precise yip—Kenshin's head jerked toward it and his body tensed, some not-quite-buried part of him responding in the old way to the unmistakable battle cry—and a quick explosion of activity.
A small, triumphant face, nose dusted with dirt and mouth open and panting, popped up above the plants several rows in, and Shin'ichi began to pick his way toward it, carrying his bag high to avoid bruising the crop. Noting the disarrangement in vegetation to their right, he pointed and said, "Kenshin-san, I think there is another over there. Do you see? Would you please get that one for me?"
Already, Koro was bounding away, deeper into his hunting ground, nimble feet avoiding the daikon and squash planted between the rice, sensitive nose pinpointing the day's next victim.
Koro loved mornings.
Review responses: LadyRhiyana: Even when Hiko is "doing the right thing" (i.e., providing opportunities for Kenshin to grow and develop by letting these chores fall completely on him, and even waiting until Kenshin is up to the task), he manages to take care of the old 13th master, doesn't he? And I just figured that farmers the world over are bedeviled by these ravenous little critters, so… Shirou Shinjin: Yes, this chapter is slow, and I'm afraid that the following handful might be that way, too, since they will each focus on Kenshin's relationship with a different significant character in this village. Not a lot of action, but a whole potload of introspection… RE Koro and Kenshin: who, indeed? omasuoniwabanshi: I figure almost any quiet activity performed in the early hours of the day and primarily alone has got to be beautiful; at least, this one seemed to turn out that way. I know I went kind of heavy on the whole "mood" thing (even for me!)… It turns out I have less control over this story than I should, probably. Yes, Koro charms me, as well. If I could draw, I'd post a pic of him in the prow of that boat as he spies Kenshin on that first day. Sirius: I agree with you about the "feel for the OVA", so that meant a LOT to me! This chapter did suffer from having no beta to help me with tense (you are the best at that), so I'm not surprised I slipped.