A/N-Inspired by the picture from episode 43, with Hiko sitting atop a cloud, snickering down at a curled-up Kenshin.
Baka Aka Atama—Chapter Two
Two and a half days after his departure, Kenshin returned to the mountainside shack sopping wet, hunched over, sallow-faced and sick for real this time.
Dragging his feet slowly, he marched into the clearing, past a lounging Hiko, who had sensed him coming long before, accompanied by a certain ragged tiredness in his usually lively ki. And behold—the reason for this! The man didn't say a word, but with the mocking look he had plastered across his face, he might as well have just pointed and laughed.
Kenshin sent a half-hearted glare out of the corners of his eyes, but otherwise ignored his smirking and tromped into the cottage, collapsing on the nearest soft thing he could find. Staring up at the rather shabby looking ceiling, he felt his eyelids start to gain weight, as they slowly pulled shut.
"Oi! Get off my bed!" Hiko called from somewhere outside, causing Kenshin to pull his eyes open again and softly curse the man's annoyingly perfect intuition. He rolled off of the futon, onto the floor, and lay there, not feeling the motivation or strength to move to his own shorter bed.
X
After he was sure Kenshin wasn't going to poke his head out of the cabin, Hiko uncrossed his arms and began itching like a dog, a scowl plastered across is features. His palms, arms, and even the tops of his hands were still disgustingly red and blistered—something that wasn't at all Hiko-esque, especially since it made using a sword…well, maybe not painful, but very, very irritating.
And what was worse, was the fact that he couldn't think of any way to get the little brat back for it, short of child abuse, no matter how hard he wracked his brain for ideas
X
After a good hour of tossing and turning across the floor, Kenshin decided that sleep, however tired he was, wouldn't come on a wooden floor, and certainly not when his clothes were still damp. Turning on his back and sprawling out his limbs, the boy once again traced the cracks in the ceiling with his lavender eyes, going over in his head exactly why he was stuck doing this, and why he was doing it with a runny nose.
Two and a half days earlier, he had taken off down the mountain at a speed he hadn't known himself to be capable of, thinking (well, knowing) that he would have to give his shishou a few days to calm down, at the very least. He had stopped running once he hit the very bottom of the mountain to catch his breath, and walked to the closest village from there.
The very second he had stepped into city limits it had started to pour. It didn't even start in a drizzle—it just spontaneously came down in bucketfuls.
And it hadn't stopped for even a minute. Not until, that is, he dragged himself back to the foot of the mountain (where it came to an abrupt stop).
Once again, the boy considered the idea that his shishou had the ability to control the weather. Except this time, it was just a sarcastic thought. It didn't really seem like the odd but silly little thing that it had been a few days before, but an eerie not-quite-coincidence.
He let his mind roll over the idea a few times. Well, it certainly had been raining a lot lately…and Hiko wasn't exactly bubbly.
Shivering at the thought, he wrenched himself off the floor and peered out one of the small covered windows of the hut, violet eyes scanning the sky—now it was bright, sunny and cloudless, of course. Next, the boy's vision drifted to Hiko, who was happily sipping away at a rather large jug of sake, his features twisted into an amused smile (Kenshin was happy to see him itching his arms every so often, however). After a few minutes, the swords master scowled and brought a hand up to massage his temples. Upon noticing the sudden mood swing, his deshi glanced back up at the sky, just as a few small, grayish clouds floated into view over the clearing.
He whipped around and slid down the back of the wall until he was flat on his bottom.
"Sh-shishou…he just…I…It can't be. It's impossible…"
Clutching a shaking hand to his chest, the swordsman-in-training slowly picked himself off of the ground, heading back outside.
X
Hiko sighed. Despite how amusing Kenshin's current condition was, a sick apprentice wouldn't be up to doing anything—specifically the laundry or cooking—so it would probably be in his best interest to get the little whelp back to normal as soon as possible.
Not to mention he had absolutely no idea of how to repay the brat for his rash-covered hands and arms.
So, luckily, Kenshin gave him an idea.
The sick child timidly poked his red head out of the door. "Ano…shishou?"
"What is it now, baka deshi?" Hiko asked, his scowl quickly deepening.
"D-Do you…control the weather?"
Glad he was facing away from his student; his grin grew as he almost burst out in a fit of laughter, before deciding to take complete advantage of the situation. Turning towards Kenshin with a straight face, he said, "Of course. I thought I had told you before. I didn't? Well, no wonder you've been so disobedient lately."
Kenshin's eyes grew wider. He hadn't been able to find even the slightest trace of sarcasm in Hiko's tone—in fact, the man had sounded truly surprised. Finally grasping the whole idea, he swiftly bowed his head. "Gomen nasai, shishou. For the poison ivy."
"Aa," Hiko sniffed, nodding and crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course you're sorry now. And that's shishou-sama from now on!"
"H-hai shishou…err, shishou-sama!" the boy choked, wiping his red nose with the sleeve of his gi. Looking thoughtful, he added, "Demo…does that mean you were the one who caused the flooding last year? A lot of people died in that flood…"
Hiko shrugged dismissively. "Yeah, I wasn't in the best of moods, that's all." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "It could very easily happen again. Now go catch a fish or something. It's getting to be around suppertime. And while you're at it, get some cool water fresh from the waterfall. They say it works wonders on poison ivy."
Without a second's hesitation, Kenshin took off, pausing only to grab two empty buckets on his way, not wishing for any more sudden rain showers while he was out.
X
Watching the red head of his apprentice bob quickly away, Hiko was finally able to snicker and grin—Kenshin had simply set himself up! How completely perfect.
Still, he was sick...
All of the guilt that Hiko might have felt was suddenly gone at a light twinge on his palm and began itching madly.
So what if he was sick? This experience would build character. Yes.
Now that the boy had fallen into his own self-inflicted delirium-induced trap, his shishou began his wicked plotting, reaching into the far depths of his brain for something especially cruel.
What a sheltered child, Hiko mused. How could he honestly believe that I control the weather, sick or not? Well…he was a slave. After I'm done with my revenge, I'll have to get to teaching him simple stuff like that.
Pushing any other sentimental thoughts away, the swords master sat by his warm kiln and diabolically planned.
X
The soon-to-be-abused deshi returned surprisingly quickly, his cheeks deeply flushed and his eyes half-shut. Carefully setting down the buckets of water first, he dropped to his knees in front of Hiko, who hadn't moved from his place near the kiln, shoving his face a little too close to the ground. "Gomen, shishou-sama! I…I forgot the fishing pole!"
"Baka deshi," Hiko sighed dramatically. "What to do with you? Well, it's not that big of a deal, I suppose. We'll just have some vegetable stew. Now start cooking."
Kenshin nodded and stood up, brushing of his now dirty hakama and then rushing into the shack to start dinner. His shishou sulked. These were the chores that the boy did on a daily basis! He was positive he could think of something, but not so sure how long he could keep Kenshin believing that what sort of day it was relied on his mood. Not to mention, he would have to constantly look up at the sky for any changes and synchronize his attitude with such.
This revenge would require quite a bit of work on his part.
X
Kenshin awoke the next morning feeling no better than he had the day before, and possibly worse. Despite his condition, however, he noticed an absent shishou and rubbed his eyes, deciding to spare a peek out the window to find what sort of mood Hiko had awoken in.
It was gray out. Clouded over and dark, with thunder rumbling off in the distance. His so-dubbed "Gray Days", the days he had formerly adored, suddenly became a horrid nightmare.
He contemplated hiding, but he knew that would cause Hiko to become even more pissed—and that the huge swords master would eventually find him anyway—and thus, ruled the option out. Groveling would work better.
"Looking at something, Kenshin?"
The small child slowly turned around, hands shaking slightly. "Sh-shishou-sama! I didn't know where you were! Is there something you would like?"
"No, not really," Hiko answered, nonchalantly taking a look outside. "It looks an awful lot like it's going to rain. A lot… Come to think of it, though, I would like very much for you to catch some fish today. And I think you should catch them with your bare hands—and they've got to be big. I figure at least as long as your arm."
"M-my arm!" Kenshin yelped, losing his bowing-down demeanor and waving said body part around. "Are there even fishes that big?"
"Are you questioning me?" Hiko snapped, a perfectly-timed roll of thunder growling after his words.
"Shishou-sama, you wouldn't really flood the village, would you?"
"Kenshin, you're really trying my patience today. Now go."
Sniffling pathetically, he did as he was instructed, not even thinking to change out of his sleeping yukata or straighten out his frizzy hair first. He was out the door in record time, leaving a snickering "shishou-sama" behind."
Left in peace, Hiko scowled at his deshi's poison-ivy infested gi, sitting in a crumpled ball in the very center of everything. Besides any leaves or oils left behind in it, the thing was in tatters (it was Kenshin's favorite, and he would wear it until Hiko complained that it smelled rotten and demanded it be washed), probably not even worth fixing up and washing anymore. Which meant the brat would need a new one. And a new pair of hakama and zouri, too. He sighed
It'd probably be cheaper to get the little baka a single-piece kimono. Worst thing is, he could look good in a kimono…
The swords master blinked. Then, slowly, his lips pulled up into a grin so devious that it would've sent a trained warrior sprinting in the opposite direction.
X
Hours later, the boy stumbled through the door, falling flat on his front side. "Shishooouuu-samaaaaa…" he moaned, slowly pushing a bucket out in front of him. "There's no fish as big as my arm. I checked." He wiped his nose on the corner of his wet gi. "But I caught a little one. C-can I sleep now?"
"Nope," Hiko said calmly, grinning. "We've got to go into town for something. To make the rain stop."
"But shishou-sama, can't you do that by yourself?"
"I could. But I'm asking you to help."
Kenshin winced. With that tone, his shishou wasn't asking for anything. He was demanding it...
He stood up solemnly and headed right back out the door, head hanging, while Hiko smirked and strode after him, down the mountain.
X
"I like this one. It's very pretty." Kenshin fingered the soft magenta fabric in his hands, noting the delicate sakura blossoms embroidered into it with bright silver thread. "But, shishou-sama…why are we looking at women's kimonos?"
"That one, huh?" Hiko mused, ignoring the boy's question and taking the kimono from him. "Okay. Ma'am, we'll take this one," he called gingerly to the shopkeeper, causing Kenshin's brows to furrow deeply.
What in the world…
"Come on, Kenshin, let's go."
"H-hai, shishou-sama." The pair left the small shop, walking back into the muddy streets and the cold rain. "Ano…that kimono looks about my size, shishou-sama…"
Hiko turned and handed the fabric to Kenshin, smiling sweetly. "It is your size, baka. Now put it on."
"D-demo!"
"Ah! Careful, you do want the rain to stop, don't you? The river seems to be getting rather high…"
The boy's face fell. He looked close to tears. "I need to wear this!"
"It's a very intricate ceremony, baka deshi! The first step is to find a kimono to your liking, one that is a perfect fit! You picked this one, and now you're gonna wear it! Now hurry!"
He glumly took the article, coughing away, the cool raindrops making his nose run (well…run more, anyway), hoping to get the whole thing over with, and wrapping it around himself, fiddling with the light pink obi sash for quite a while. He finally managed an ugly bow and sighed, "What now?"
Hiko's smile widened. It was actually rather creepy… "The second step is to…"
X
"Look! Look at me, Himura Kenshin, the flying BAKA! But I sure am a pretty BAKA, ne!"
Several women taking cover under the canopies of shops turned at the sound, gawking at the source of the noise.
"Oh my…what in the world…?"
One well-known red-headed deshi was skipping merrily through the muddy streets, wearing a rather…vibrant kimono, wailing out self insults as he passed, his cheeks rather rosy.
He coughed loudly, and then continued as he passed a small teahouse. "Oh yes, I am a baka, but I am far more beautiful than any geishas!" He turned and went back towards his starting point. "Pretty but oh-so-silly, hai, hai! Pity me and adore me, for I am cuter than that stray cat, but much stupider, hai, hai!"
He dropped in the middle of the street, smack dab in a huge mud puddle, sitting on his knees and pressing his nose almost to the ground. "Please, please, wonderful shishou of mine, make the rain stop!" He continued kneeling for a few quick moments, before standing up and darting into another street, leaving everyone on his last street completely dumbfounded and in awe.
X
Revenge is so sweet, baka deshi, one Hiko Seijurou thought casually, listening to the distant echoes of said deshi's cries.
I just hope he doesn't favor the color pink when he's older…
X
A/N—If it sucked, I'm very sorry. I've been trying to think of something all summer, finally got an idea, wrote a good few pages worth, then lost the data because my dad's laptop crashed… Then tried re-writing it, couldn't remember a lot of it, dad fixed his laptop, reread both versions of the chapter, fused together the lines I liked most, let it sit for the first two weeks of field hockey season (I was too sore to get to the computer…T.T), and then finally just said screw it and finished it up with a makeshift idea. I don't think it turned out that bad…but it could be better. Sorry for the long lapse, and sorry if it's not as good as the first chapter. (Though I promise the third will be the best so far…wait…third? I'm digging my own grave here…)
Anyway, there were some debatable parts, but I hope you all enjoy it despite that.
Paws