Disclaimer: You know the drill. Rurouni Kenshin aint mine.
A Son's Guilt: Chapter Six
---A few hours earlier---
The mansion was eerily quiet, thought the lean man clothed completely in black, as he walked across the porch. Not even his own footsteps made a sound. He wished that there was some noise, something other than the thudding of his heart. Not even the cherry blossom trees made a sound as he passed through the garden, nor did he hear the buzzing of bees or the droning of insects. It was as though his environment were doing it on purpose, trying to increase his anxiety.
The man finally came before the shoji screen of the largest room in the heart of the compound. He stood there for a moment, stroking his beard with trembling fingers. He had already been away for too long in the Lord's opinion, and he couldn't postpone his report to him any longer.
Anger rose within him as the image of a red haired boy swam before his vision. The one who had put him in this current predicament! That boy would pay dearly... Kensaku Mori only hoped he would be the one to make sure.
Taking a breath, he slid open the shoji and silently slipped inside.
"My Lord," Kensaku said, voice unsteady as he slowly approached the deep red Western arm chair in the room, behind the large desk, also of Western design. It was ironic. Yamanato hated foreigners, and everything to do with them. Yet he still bought their furniture, and other such things. Sometimes Kensaku wondered why Yamanato was doing this. Why he had left the Oniwabanshu, why he started attacking foreign shops, when he kept foreign things himself. Why he wanted to attack the government...Kensaku couldn't ask, and so he never heard a reason. He knew why he was doing it. He was doing it for the money. Yamanato was filthy rich. So much so, that money seemed to have no worth in his eyes.
"I have urgent news..."
"It can't wait?" said Akura Yamanto lazily, not bothering to turn around as he smoked his pipe.
"I'm afraid not my Lord."
A heavy silence followed. Taking this as his cue to talk, Kensaku swallowed hard and began.
Akura listened, his face betraying no emotion. "I see," he said finally, voice low and dangerous. "So you have failed me, Mori."
He blew out a wisp of smoke and it curled towards the ceiling. That was all Kensaku coud see over the top of the leather armchair.
Kensaku shifted uncomfortably. "My Lord...I apologise. We underestimated him."
"And so you should apologise. Although, to tell the truth, you're all quite dispensible you know. All that really matters is my own reputation. Now they might not take me seriously, if they hear that a mere boy was able to defeat my men. And you know Mori-san, the thought of that makes me feel rather upset. Betrayed, even."
Kensaku's throat felt unbearably dry. Was the man mocking him? He couldn't tell. He never could, with Lord Yamanato.
"How can you say that my Lord? I have tried my best to serve you."
"And I was the one who taught you what you know. I owe you nothing."
"I don't understand."
"No, but I believe you do." said Akura silkily. The leather chair creaked as it slowly turned around.
Kensaku found himself staring into the man's heavily disfigured face. He resisted the urge to both shiver and look away, Yamanto was not wearing his usual mask. So that was what the man looked like with out it...his body was trembling. With a jolt, he realised why.
Kensaku didn't see the hidden pistol, but he heard the unmistakable crack. He crumpled.
Akura snorted at the look on the dead man's face. He tucked his pistol away, the puckered flesh of his face creased with thought.
"The son of Battousai," he murmured, tapping the ash out of his pipe. "This is going to be enjoyable."
o-o-o-o
Kenji looked white. "What am I going to say to him?"
Masaki and Kadoma exchanged glances as they lounged about in the stiff chairs in the police station waiting hall. Kadoma sighed.
"It's not your fault. I'm sure your dad will understand that you had no choice, Kenji. You had to kill them. They would have killed us."
"My father will not see it that way." Kenji struggled to keep the emotion out of his voice as he paced in front of them.
But if it were a spider, or a snake, which can really hurt you, it would be a different story.'
'Then you can kill it?'
'No, Kenji-chan. Then we try very hard to get it to where it belongs in a way that doesn't hurt us or them.'
'How do you know?'
'Because I do!' he shouted. He had tears in his eyes now, and was too agitated to hide it.
"He will never look at me the same way again! I have killed people...there's no excuse for what I've done."
Kadoma sighed as he leaned against the wall. 'No excuse eh?'
Kenji's eyes widened. "Kadoma, I didn't mean.."
"Don't worry about it, I don't care," the boy waved him off. "Right now, you need to take care of yourself man. The way you're going, you're gonna make yourself go crazy thinking too much about it. I'm serious Kenji."
But the redhead was not staring at his friend anymore. His breath caught as he stared at the two figures standing in the doorway of the police station. One was tall and thin, and the other...Kenji swallowed.
For a moment he thought he would run again, before he realised there was nowhere to run to. And I can't keep running...I have to face him sooner or later. I have to face the consequences...Kenshin slowly walked towards him, and Kenji could see the familiar sheath of the sakabatou glinting in the sunlight streaming through the small windows.
"Otou-san..." Kenji began, his heart thudding and his voice croaky. "I'm..."
Kadoma and Masaki respectfully stood as the two adults came to a stop before them. Saitou ignored them. Kenshin had his eyes on his son.
"Kenji..." he started.
"... sorry." the boy whispered. "I don't know what else to---" He trailed off as Kenshin stepped towards him, the expression on his face unreadable.
Is he going to...hit me? Is he that angry? Of course he is...How can I even ---
"I'm so glad."
To Kenji's complete and utter shock, his father reached forward and embraced him.
"Otou-san...?"
"I'm so glad you're alright..."
Bewildered, Kenji just stood there as Kenshin hugged him tightly. He could feel his father's body shaking against him and he blinked."..Otou-san?"
"I could have lost you. God, I'm so glad you're alright..." Kenshin kissed the top of his head. "I'm so glad...my son..."
Kenji found he had nothing to say.
o-o-o-o
The gentle rustling of the cherry blossom trees, together with the gurgling sounds of the brook, made the gardens behind the Tokyo Police station a very peaceful spot. Many families enjoyed going there with their small children, especially for the ease of mind that came with the knowledge that no criminal would be foolish enough to try anything right near the police.
Kenshin himself, had taken Kenji there on several occasions when he was younger.
Sometimes Kaoru would be there, and the three of them would laugh and play with Kenji's ball, and later eat rice cakes under the cool shade of the trees. Sometimes it would just be Kaoru and Kenji, and she would hold his hand as he skipped along, telling him stories about his Uncle Yahiko's youth, and making him laugh. And other times, it would just be father and son, with Kenshin patiently answering his son's many questions while they lay with their backs on the grass, gazing at the clouds in the sky.
Kenji had always felt peaceful and safe when visiting these gardens, but on this day, it was different.
He was tense, he was tired. His arm hurt, and his heart was heavy with guilt. He was also confused. Kenji knew what he had done was wrong, very wrong, yet his father did not seem angry with him at all. Kenshin had embraced him, had said that he thought he would lose him...And the teenager didn't understand at all. Could it be that his father was confused? That he had gotten the wrong idea? That he didn't know that Kenji was the one who killed the men?
He simply could not believe that his father, the man who taught him that all life on Earth was sacred, would embrace him after he, his own son, had gone against that belief.
"I'm sorry for my silence," said Kenshin at last, breaking the unbearable quiet. Unbearable for Kenji, because he couldn't grasp what was happening. And unbearable for Kenshin, because he could feel the weight of Kenji's guilt through his ki, the boy wasn't even hiding it anymore, and it was the most painful thing he had experienced in a long time.
"Kenji, I'm trying to find a way to begin, yet I feel paralysed by guilt."
His son blinked as he stared at his hands. He did not turn to look at his father, who was sitting beside him, gazing at the river. He could not look at him. He had not even spoken to him since Kenshin had hugged him, and then motioned for Kenji to follow him as he made his way to the gardens.
But there was something there, rising within him now. Something he had to say.
"You feel guilty?" The words felt foreign on his tongue.
Kenshin felt relieved as Kenji glanced at him.
"Because I have made a mistake." The man swallowed hard. It was hard for him to say it, but Kenji had to hear it. "I have made a mistake with you."
Kenji closed his eyes. I'm not even scared anymore, he thought oddly. He was expecting it, and here it was. He deserved it. After what he had done...
"I'm a mistake," said Kenji emotionlessly. "You're right Otou-san. You deserve a better son, not one who has disgraced you like I have."
Kenshin frowned.
"You misinterpret what I say," he responded quietly. "Kenji, I'm not angry with you. I don't think you are a mistake, no, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. And you have not disgraced me. What happened at the bakery upset me deeply, but I am not upset because of you."
Kenji was silent. Kenshin noted, with rising relief, that some of the tension he felt through Kenshin's ki, was lessening.
"I just want you to listen to what I have to say. If you want to ask me questions, you can. But--," the man's voice was hoarse, Kenji had never heard him sound like that before. He briefly thought of his father's words before they had come to the dojo to find the police officer there. Kenshin had said something along the lines of, 'the history of my hands'---and Kenji had not known what he meant. Was he going to explain that now? Kenji found himself wondering.
"--could you ask me your questions after I've finished? Kenji?"
The boy nodded slowly, blue gaze still trained on his hands.
o-o-o-o
When it was all over, when he had finished speaking after what seemed like an agonising eternity for him, Kenshin noted that his voice had not trembled, nor wavered. He had related his story in a quiet, calm voice, and Kenji had not tried to interrupt him once.
He had stared at him though. He was still staring at him, and it tore at Kenshin's heart to read the expression in Kenji's eyes. To see the familiar blue eyes look at him that way.
Kenshin saw disbelief. He saw shock. Fear. Betrayal.
He felt the anger, before he saw it.
Kenji abruptly stood up, backing away from his father as he did so. He raised a trembling finger and pointed at Kenshin. 'You...' His eyes were wild. 'You're not my father!'
Kenshin flinched. He slowly rose, holding his hands out, willing Kenji not to try anything rash. "Kenji, I'm not finished yet, you have to hea---"
"Shut up!" Kenji screamed.
Kenshin snapped his mouth shut, shock etched over his features.
"You're not my father! My father is a man who believes that all life is sacred! He wouldn't even kill a grasshopper! And you're telling me, y-you're the, you're the Battousai!" A gagging sound came from his throat. "You're telling me you're a manslayer from the revolution!"
Kenji gasped, as though he couldn't breathe.
"Son, listen to me!" Kenshin shouted, his voice pained. "That's the mistake I made with you! I didn't tell you! I taught you the importance of life, but I didn't..I didn't tell you that not everybody is able to realise it! And that sometimes, when you want to save people, you are forced to kill...I didn't tell you that some people have so much to atone for..." His voice broke, he couldn't go on. He couldn't go on--- and his son hadn't even listened to what he was trying to say.
He watched as Kenji ran from him, not for the first time that day, and he was dazed by a pain he had not felt since Tomoe's death.
And then Kenji was yelling. He was yelling and Kenshin realised that Saitou had grabbed his son, and had struck him.
That he was dragging him along right now, in the direction of the station, without so much as a backwards glance at him. Kenshin felt a gentle hand on his arm, and turned to see another officer standing there, a younger one, who looked as though he had only just started working for the police force.
"Himura-san," the man said urgenly, his eyes never leaving Kenshin's. "You must come to the police station right away sir."
"What is it?" Kenshin whispered.
The grip on his arm tightened. "It's...your wife, Himura-san. She has been attacked."