Chapter 5. Memory

The boy woke to clattering noises. Someone was moving close to him! Without a second thought, he had already dashed away from the sound. His heart was trying to leap away from his chest as he shook and stared in crazed fright.

Oh.

It was just the man-spirit, kneeling by the fire and his brow was raised in a mocking question.

The boy felt a bit silly. Ashamed, really. The man-spirit hadn't harmed him in any way, thus far at least, so why was he still scared? No answers forthcoming, the boy inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm his panicky breathing. It was midday, judging by the sun's height on a cloudy sky. He must have slept for hours and hours. Oddly, he still felt really tired.

A few feet away, the man-spirit Hiko-san was setting up a fire.

Maybe we will eat again? The boy's stomach growled hopefully.

"Here, go fill this by the lake."

Pulled from his thoughts, the boy went to take the offered kettle hesitantly and headed for the lake. A yell sounded from behind him. "And don't get your hands wet!"

Smiling by this sign of caring, the boy nodded. No, I shouldn't be so afraid anymore.

The downward path was easier to walk this time, though he had to lift the hem of the large shirt to avoid tripping. The ground had dried and wasn't as slippery as it had been last night, and sunlight certainly helped. The trees were painted in autumn colors, reds and yellows. Some leaves had already dropped. The weather had been getting steadily colder. It would have been horrible to sleep in the damp clothing.

The loaned shirt was really warm.

He crouched at the lake shore and considered first the kettle in hand, then his carefully wrapped hands. The man-spirit's threat of cleaning the wounds again came to his mind. So, carefully, the boy took hold of the handle and tipped the kettle in the water, tilted and lowered it.

The water gushed in and he smiled in satisfaction.

The lake was really pretty in the daylight, too. It didn't feel so bad to look at it this time, he decided. Feeling better than he had in weeks, the boy made his way back to camp.


Hiko hadn't slept long, just a few hours.

This wasn't unusual for him, as he had spent the better part of the last few years avoiding dreams. The sun was already high up in the sky when he finally sat up and stretched. The old wound in his back was smarting like a bitch. Some bends and winces later, he had come to a firm conclusion that sleeping with only his cloak as cover wasn't to be done ever again. Not if it could somehow be avoided.

He had almost recovered his bearings when an odd and faint snuffling sound caught his ear. There was no one there but him and the kid. Where was that coming from? A flexing of his aura confirmed they were alone.

So, it was the kid?

Kenshin had made his bed next to the fire, but on the opposite side of him. In fact, as far as possible, while still being able to enjoy the warmth. Hardly a surprising action, that. The kid slept like a curled up animal, a small still bundle. The only thing that gave away that the boy was still alive was the steady rise of chest and that odd soft snuffling sound.

It's almost cute.

Hiko shook his head, appalled. Of all the things…

In any case, they were in no hurry to go anywhere and he, too, needed a bath. Also, it would be a good chance to wash their clothes, he though and glanced again at the sleeping kid wearing his shirt.

Well, it's hardly a priority. It's better for the kid to sleep while he can.

It was a few hours later, at noon, when the kid finally woke up. Hiko was aware of his awakening from the change in breathing and the feel of ki but hadn't let that stop his chores. A slightly too loud pang of kettle against the firewood, and suddenly the half-awake kid was dashing away from him in fright. Hiko didn't react, already having expected such a reaction from the jumpy child. Instead, he just raised his brow in question and reined in the sarcastic comment rising automatically on his lips.

The kid had enough issues and commenting on them wouldn't help either of them.

The kid's embarrassed blush told that he had made a correct choice. So, continuing on a hunch, he diffused the awkward situation by sending the boy off to get some water. Maybe he was getting a hang of this. After all, it wasn't that difficult to guess the boy's actions, because more than anything else, the kid – Kenshin – behaved like any battle-worn and stressed man would in similar situations, or just like himself...

It wasn't a line of thinking he wanted to pursue, least of all while he was sober.

The fire was going nicely when the kid returned. The rice was set to boil over the fire and he noted aloud that the boy's bandages seemed clean enough.

The smile he received in answer was… sweet.

The boy was still in the loaned shirt, Hiko noted. Before he had set off to sleep, he had taken time to set the kid's damp clothing on the lower branches of a nearby willow. By now they would be as dry as they would get, so he took them down and offered them to the boy.

Kenshin smiled in thanks and he nodded in answer.

Returning to the cooking, he added some of his last few pieces of dried meat to soften up with the rice. He wasn't one for idle conversation, so the kid's continuous silence was, well, comfortable. In hindsight, he was aware that children were loud and energetic creatures, full of annoying questions and needless chatter. Compared to that, this silence between him and Kenshin felt like a blessing. On the other hand, what if…

Sound of shuffling of feet nearby pulled him out of his musings. The boy was standing close to him, looking like he wanted something.

Ah, of course. The shirt. Hiko calmly accepted the offering and considered the situation. "Just sit down. The food will be done soon."

Why doesn't the boy speak to me? Wouldn't it have been easier to get my attention with words instead of that hesitant shuffling of his feet? While it wasn't hard to understand the boy, and he knew that the boy could speak if he wanted to, this silence started to seem more peculiar. After all, compared to what he knew to be normal behavior for children, this was anything but.

Should I do something about it?

On one hand, he would risk losing this comfortable state of affairs. Hiko didn't like people and had made an art form out of avoiding them and their constant chatter and never ending complaints. On the other hand, the kid had seen horrible things and it wouldn't do to let him dwell on them.

Besides, Hiko was curious about the boy.

So…

"You know, kid, you can talk to me," he said aloud, testing a theory. Thus far, the only times he had heard the kid speak had been in answer to prompting. Only silence was his answer, and he dared a covert glance.

The boy had settled down on his bedding, staring into the distance.

Head in the clouds, again – what's with that? Dismayed, Hiko stoked the merrily crackling fire between them.

"What are you?" a soft voice asked.

Huh?

"What do you mean?" Hiko countered, intrigued.

"You feel cold and big," the boy said while staring at the ground, picking at the grass.

Hiko felt his brow rise in surprise. What the hell? What does that mean? Feel cold? Big?

Hmmm, but maybe – no, that wasn't possible. But then again, so far the kid had been constantly denying his assumptions and if it was so... Curious, Hiko slowly let his ki flare up.

The boy immediately scrambled backwards.

There was no mistaking it the second time; the kid could feel ki.

A rare talent. Unprecedented, even. Usually only those who had been trained in the arts could feel ki. Even among them, it wasn't a common ability. Hiko had known that the kid was special, after all Kenshin's own spirit felt unusually well defined. However, he hadn't realized how just special his new apprentice was.

Oh yes, he will be perfect for Hiten Mitsurugi.

For the spiritually aware, Hiko's presence would feel significantly different. He had spent years under the careful tutorage of the old bastard, mastering the use of the ki for his sword training. And like a muscle, using the spiritual energy would strengthen it, so it would feel "big" as the boy had put it. Coldness was just the feel of lingering death and willingness to hurt.

Back when the old bastard attacked me during the final training, it was like the air itself froze up. Hiko frowned, and nodded slowly to himself. Yes, with this… it's starting to make sense.

Hmmm, but if he can feel ki and possesses such a pronounced aura, does that mean he has already used it before?

It might be, or not. In any case, it was something to consider in the future, but for now it was hardly a priority. "Calm down. I am not going to hurt you," he said. "You can feel my spiritual presence. It's what causes the feeling of coldness."

The boy tilted his head, and then hesitantly crawled back.

"Spiritual… like a spirit?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get it?"

"Get it? You cannot get it anywhere. Everyone has some potential for it. You just need to learn to use it," Hiko explained, feeling absolutely ridiculous. Of all the notions for the kid to pick up…

"…huh."

Hiko shook his head, scoffed.

Completely ridiculous.

Suddenly, he was acutely reminded exactly why he tended to avoid people. Thank the gods the rice looks to be almost ready. A breakfast, then back to the road, and I don't have to deal with anymore nonsense for the day.


So, the swordsman – Hiko-san is a man, not a spirit. The boy had been wondering about that since the moment he had first seen him, but hadn't been able to decide for sure. For him, Hiko-san had felt more like his spirit-friend than a man, although he still looked human.

The rest of Hiko-san's explanation of spirits or spiritual presence had made no sense at all to the boy, and he hadn't dared to question the man more. At first it had sounded like Hiko-san, too, had a spirit-friend. But when he had asked about it, Hiko-san had stared at the boy like he had grown a second head.

Asking another question after that reaction had been just too scary. Hiko-san didn't seem like a person who had any patience for stupidity. And if asking about important things like spirits had raised his ire, what else would?

So the boy had stayed silent as they shared the meal like the night before. Hiko-san had given rice and the boy had shared the dried fish. It was only fair. Besides, until he knew the swordsman better, he wasn't about to take anything without giving something in return. It was partly because mother had taught him to share his food, and Hiko-san didn't seem to have much more than he did. But, also, it would be like he owed something to Hiko-san if he just took things.

And he really didn't want that. The spirit-friend agreed.

So after breakfast, they had gathered their belongings and took to the road. Hiko-san had set the pace again and he had to almost run to keep up with it. While they travelled, the swordsman didn't look back or question him further, which in turn left the boy to talk with his spirit-friend for company. He was getting better at walking and thinking at the same time.

It was almost a nice way to travel.

The two friends talked about a lot of things during those hours. Often the talk wasn't about anything important, just observations about the things that the boy saw and was curious about. And while the spirit couldn't talk back, the boy had grown better at understanding the images and emotions the spirit sent. It also seemed that the spirit was getting better at it, too. Or maybe they were just learning to understand each other better?

In any case, the boy was not alone and didn't mind walking in silence.

Sometimes, though, the boy would talk to his friend about better times, of family and Kasumi, even the almost-older-sisters Akane and Sakura. And sometimes they would talk about Hiko-san. Neither of the two could make up their minds about him. On the other hand, Hiko-san had promised to teach them to use the sword, but then again, he hadn't done anything about it during these travel filled days. Instead, he had just cleaned their wounds, shared food and stuff with them and asked a lot of questions during the meals.

The questions ranged from things like where the boy had lived, what his family had been like, what they had looked like, how long had he been with the slavers, what had that been like…

And then Hiko-san had asked what the boy knew and could do.

So, the boy had told Hiko-san that he didn't know how to read or write. He had proudly mentioned he knew how to count to five. It was all he had needed before, and he remembered the lesson well; one number for each family member. When Hiko inquired about his age though, he couldn't even guess. He hadn't paid attention to years, well, not further than the one that had passed and one that was to come. Besides, Hiko-san's description of 'eras' and 'lunar calendar' was, well, complicated. Back at home, the seasons were what mattered.

Nevertheless, the boy had answered all the questions as well as he could, but Hiko-san was rarely happy with the answers. More often than not, he would get frustrated or even angry, and it was almost impossible to know what would set his temper off. At first, the boy was scared of these fits of temper. But only after a flare of spirit, some ugly expressions or swearwords muttered in a low voice, Hiko-san would always tell him to calm down and that he wouldn't hit him.

Slowly, the boy was beginning to trust him, though the spirit-friend was still hesitant. However, they had realized fairly soon that while the swordsman would easily get angry, he was really good at controlling his bursts of anger and wasn't a danger to them.

So…

The boy listened and watched.

The two friends weren't sure if Hiko-san would keep them, so they learned how to do things by watching his example. Important things, like how to cook rice, to make a campfire, bandage hands and to clean the wounds, all things that the boy hadn't known how to do before.

Thus, the days passed while travelling with a swordsman, who felt cold and was never happy.


The kid fell quite painlessly with Hiko's way of living. Well, he had to stop more often than he was used to, but it was expected. Comparing to his previous doubts about taking an apprentice, that he would have to change to accommodate some spoiled brat, Kenshin was almost a blessing in disguise. In every way, the boy was an easy person to travel with; he didn't talk unless he was prompted to, never complained or demanded anything.

While Hiko had some misgivings about whether he should encourage the boy to show more normal childish behavior, it didn't seem to be necessary. In any case, a normal child would never be able to handle the training to come. Did it matter if Kenshin was slightly too obedient and silent?

The sword of Mitsurugi demanded a lot from the practitioners and those demands the kid already seemed to fulfill easily: a good mind, kind heart, strong will and able ki.

Speaking of the spiritual presence, now that Hiko was aware of it and paid attention, he noticed that the kid was constantly using his ki while they travelled. The spiritual aura would flow around the boy like water and occasionally it would flare. The dismaying part was that it all seemed to be connected to the boy's 'head in the clouds' habit. For the moment, Hiko was willing to overlook the annoying tendency. Whatever the boy was doing, it seemed to be quite efficient training.

Travelling and eating healthily was steadily increasing the boy's stamina and his mangled hands were healing without too many complications. Hiko had cleaned them every evening until the reddening near the edges had vanished and the scratches had scabbed. Two deeper wounds had developed puss, but piercing them and draining the slime twice had done the trick. All in all, the boy was gaining strength daily and Hiko was quite pleased with the physical fitness of his new apprentice.

What he didn't like, however, was the boy's lack of education. If he didn't want to have an uneducated halfwit as an apprentice, it seemed that he would have to start teaching the kid the basics of reading and writing as soon as possible. And counting, he couldn't ignore the numbers; the kid couldn't even tell his own age properly!

Hmmph!

But then again, what else could he have expected from a mixed blood slave child?

He was becoming quite sure that the boy had some foreign blood, but was born and raised in Japan. As for his age, well, Hiko was leaning with his estimations towards the upper end of the 'five to ten'-scale. It was mostly based on a hunch, the kid was too calm and unassuming and that unusual ki…

So, most likely he was nine or ten, but small for his age.

It was a good age for swords training and most children started around then. So had he, once upon a time.

The trust between them had been building up quite nicely, too. Now Hiko didn't have to be so careful around the boy as it seemed that he wasn't so scared anymore. True, the kid still kept a distance, didn't initiate any action without a clear cue from him, but it was becoming obvious that he could soon start teaching the boy more.

However, the question was where to start.

Back when he had begun his apprenticeship, the swords training had been the obvious choice. Ki had come along years later. Even though Kenshin seemed to be aware of the spiritual energy, it really wasn't a good aspect to start up with. No, it would be better to go with the training schedule he knew…

For swords training, he would need to get the boy a blade. A short one, though. Maybe a wakizashi could do?

Yes, that sounds doable, Hiko nodded, and glanced over his shoulder at the waif following him. Hmm, real steel with a proper balance - yes. But heavy enough to build some muscle on those sticky arms…

Perhaps an older, second hand blade to save on the costs?

And, now that winter was coming, he would need to get the kid more clothes. Those rags had worked well enough for now, but wouldn't be warm enough for travelling in snow. Speaking of winter, he, too, would need supplies.

The money pouch hanging at his waist was noticeably light.

Hmmm… it seems I need to find a job.


They were in a village.

The boy looked around curiously, but stayed close to Hiko-san. The village was a lot larger than home had been and it was bustling with people. Maybe it was because there were a lot of roads leading to it, compared to the only one leading to home. Come to think of it, home had been a lot higher in the mountains, too, so it would have been harder for all the people to get there.

When they had arrived, Hiko-san had said that this village was called Tokoyama and it was in the Suo domain. This, of course, didn't mean anything to the boy and he stared at Hiko-san completely baffled. It roused a scoff from the swordsman, followed by gruff advice to pay attention to names, for knowing them would help him to know where he was and find his way back if needed.

It was a leading revelation to the boy. Thus far, names had only been important to tell apart two similar people from one another, like mother and second mother Kasumi. But it had to be the same for places, and if he knew the name of the place and asked for directions, the place would always be there.

He didn't know what the village in the mountains had been named. It hurt for some reason. It wasn't that he wanted to go back there, but… It would have been nice to know that he could, if he wanted to.

Needless to say, the boy started paying attention to the names.

The village center had a of lot different vendors and there were merchants and wagons on the roadside. Every now and then, Hiko-san would take time to talk to people. The more people he talked to, the colder he felt and the scowl on his face grew harsher. The boy suspected that it was because of all the noise and people. After all, he didn't talk to the boy much either and needing to talk to so many people had to be a real struggle.

However, seeing that scowl, it was relieving in a way. It meant that it wasn't just the boy the swordsman didn't like; no, it was just the way he was.

Just like the spirit-friend.

Hiko-san had said that they needed to find a job, and that the village would be a good place to find one. Knowing that before coming to the village had been comforting, because it meant that the swordsman wasn't trying to get rid of him or to sell him.

The boy didn't want to be alone and travelling with Hiko-san hadn't been bad.

But what if Hiko-san had just said those words but hadn't really meant them?

The boy couldn't follow the conversations between the swordsman and the strangers well, but he kept an ear out for bad words. If anything was said about selling people or the odd words Ine-sama had used while haggling with the scary man Hideo, he resolved to run away. He wouldn't be sold again, no matter what. He knew enough now to survive alone, if necessary.

Then Hiko-san stopped to buy rice from an old woman. It was odd to watch that, because for some crazy reason the swordsman didn't haggle, just paid the first price she asked. It was, well - stupid. But Hiko-san didn't seem like a stupid man, so why would he..?

Every time the boy had seen mother or father, or even old Ine-sama, buy anything, there had been a lot of haggling.

Father had explained that it was a game between the seller and the buyer. The seller would ask for too much and the buyer would offer too little. Then they would play a game over the price, and the winner would be the one who stayed closer to the price he started with and got the other to agree. It had sounded like a really fun game to the boy, and he had liked to watch father play it.

Father had been good at it.

Hiko-san didn't even try to play.

It can't be that Hiko-san has too much money. No, if that was so, he wouldn't be trying to find a job. So why doesn't he play? the boy wondered. He would have to ask about it later. For now, Hiko-san's coldness, or ki as the older man called it, was spiking up in annoyed flickers.

It wasn't as scary as it had been before because lately the boy had been getting better at following the feeling of coldness, and figuring out what it meant. Right now Hiko-san was definitely nearing the boiling point of his temper. Soon there would be swearing…

"Damn it all to hell. How hard can it be to find a merchant travelling out of town? It's not even snowfall yet!"

And the coldness just fizzled. Huh? That was it?

"What if you don't find a job?" the boy hesitantly asked. Normally he wouldn't have dared. Not yet, especially when Hiko-san's ki had felt so angry just moments ago, but if the swordsman couldn't find a job, what would he do for the money? He didn't have much to sell...

"Hmmph. Then we need to keep trying, maybe in another village."

The boy relaxed minutely, somewhat comforted and nodded to the swordsman.

However, mere moments later, he saw people turning to the western road. Back home, when people behaved so, it had meant that someone new was coming in. Hiko-san didn't seem to notice it as he was preoccupied with a vendor behind them.

It was distressing. He knew that Hiko-san needed money, but no merchant seemed to want to pay for his help. What should he do?

Finally, the sheer necessity driving him, the boy coughed.

The swordsman didn't seem to hear him.

But what if someone else needs a job, too, and gets there first? Hiko-san needs money! So, the boy did something he would have never done before and dared to tug at the swordsman's cloak.

The swordsman raised his brow, curious – not angry. The boy exhaled in sheer relief and pointed west. "Someone is coming."

Hiko-san looked and frowned.

"Huh. Well, let's check it out."


Old man Asano was a merchant and Hiko-san and the boy were travelling with him for now. The swordsman had a job of protecting the merchant, old man Asano drove the wagon pulled by a big ox, and the boy, well, didn't know what he was supposed to do.

So, he just followed Hiko-san just like before.

Apparently, the old man Asano had been left behind by a bigger merchant caravan earlier, because his wheel had broken down badly and he couldn't fix it fast enough. It was a mean thing to do, leaving someone behind and even worse for such a small reason, the boy thought, but said nothing.

In any case, the merchant was in hurry to sell his stuff in Hiroshima, in Aki domain, before the snowfall came, or so he had told Hiko-san. Old man Asano hadn't been happy to hire him at first, and had loudly protested that a single swordsman as protection was as good as an invitation to the bandits. So the merchant had suggested that he would take a message to another village and bring back more guards. Hiko-san's coldness had been boiling so badly that the boy had wanted to run and hide rather than follow the argument, but finally the swordsman had calmed down and managed to convince the merchant to hire him. Old man Asano had taken a really long time to agree, and even then it was 'only because of the hurry.'

So here they were.

Travelling was easier now with old man Asano and his wagon slowing the pace, but it wasn't nice. Just like the villagers back home, the merchant didn't like him at all. Instead, he would stare at the boy but never talk to him.

Already the boy had heard Asano say "demon" and "foreigner" to Hiko-san. He really didn't like those words.

They had been travelling for two days now and both nights at the camp fire old man Asano had sat next to Hiko-san and started talking. Instead of being allowed to listen in and eat in peace, the merchant ordered the boy do chores.

It wasn't that he minded doing the chores, not really. It was easy enough to fetch water or pick up firewood and he wasn't lazy. No, he had been taught better. But he didn't like the way Asano did it. The merchant would command harshly, never once looking at him and always expecting the boy to obey immediately. In all honesty, it reminded him of scary man Hideo.

Hiko-san didn't seem to think it odd, so the boy did as he was told.

But for some reason, he felt lonelier than he had been since the graveyard. He had tried to spend time with his spirit-friend during the day's travelling, but hadn't noticed when Asano had suddenly slowed the pace and as a result the boy had stumbled right into the wagon. "Is there something wrong with the kid?" old man Asano had asked Hiko-san with an ugly voice, and the boy could hear the unspoken 'stupid runt' clearly. The swordsman had scoffed, but hadn't answered.

Feeling ashamed, the boy hadn't dared to try talking with the spirit-friend since. After all, only a simpleton would walk into things, and Hiko-san wouldn't want a stupid student.

So, with no one to talk to and no one talking to him, he was feeling lonely with people again.

Another thing that was making him feel really bad was the dreams. These past few days travelling with Hiko-san just curling up on a bedroll was enough to fall asleep. But now with the slow travelling pace, he just wasn't tired enough at the end of the day, and so he would remember bad things and continue seeing them in his sleep. He would often wake up in the middle of the night panting and tears stinging in his eyes, feeling really, really scared. He would see Kasumi's dark pleading eyes, her soft mouth that had been like mother's and a sword tearing though her throat.

He kept clutching her top in his hands, in hopes that it would keep the bad dreams away.

It didn't work very well.

During the fourth day of travel they reached a domain border post. The boy had seen a couple of those when he was with the slave caravan, but for some reason, passing it felt scarier now with only Hiko-san and the mean old merchant with him. The samurai, who was guarding the border post, asked old man Asano and Hiko-san questions, but the way he talked was so odd that it was really hard to understand him. It was even worse than the way Hiko-san talked, with all the difficult words and weird way of saying even the normal things…

So, it was no wonder that the meaning of words escaped the boy and he drifted off, only to catch the tail end of Hiko-san's speech. "…I am a ronin, and here are our travel passes. The boy, Kenshin, is with me."

Kenshin? Who is that? My name is—

'…too soft, from now on you will be...'

Oh.

He had almost forgotten that Hiko-san had given him a new name. It wasn't like anyone actually used it. To Hiko-san, he was always just "boy." And it wasn't like anyone else would talk to him, like at the crossroad village, Tokoyama; the vendors and other people had talked about him like he was not there. Even worse, some of them had been like old mean man Asano and called him bad names.

The boy didn't know what to think of names, really. It made sense that places had names so that people could find them, like Hiko-san had told him. But what was the point of giving names to children? Even before, when he had been Shinta, no one had called him that. Well, no one but mother that is. To his brothers, he had been "crybaby" or "tiny." Father had called him "son" or every now and then when he was displeased "boy", but even then he had said it gently.

Not that he could recall any particular time it had happened, it was all hazy for some reason. But it had been so, of that he was absolutely sure. The boy frowned. Why can't I remember it anymore?

In any case, even to Kasumi he had been "Shinta-chan."

Huh… perhaps, names are what only mother's will call you by?

No, that wasn't right.

Hiko-san was Hiko-san, and old Ine-sama had been also called by her name. Like old man Asano and scary man Hideo. So, it's an adult thing? If you are an adult, you can tell what your name is to people and they will respect it – not make up their own mind?

Abruptly, the boy was pulled from his thoughts by a loud noise from the forest. Immediately alert and shaking slightly, he was ready to dash off

Oh, no. Not again.

There was a pile of logs laid down on the road and a bandit was standing in front of the blockade, his sword half raised and his teeth bared in an ugly grin.

The grin faded slightly when Hiko-san stepped forward and pulled his long sword out of the scabbard, too, speaking calmly. "Let us through, or be prepared to meet your gods."

The bandit's mouth fell slack for a minute, and then a terrifying loud guffawing laugh filled the silence.

It continued on and on.

Hiko-san's coldness flickered in annoyance, but the swordsman in white didn't do anything, just waited.

Then, finally the bandit fell silent, wiped his eyes and stated, "Thanks for the laugh. But, joker – we do have you outnumbered. So who the hell do you think you are to demand anything from us?"

"Your death."

"Oh really?" the bandit scowled. "I'll enjoy carving the mark of hopelessness into your severed head and watch the beasts tear your corpse into pieces. Men, let's show this arrogant sod what he is dealing with!"

More bandits stepped out of the forest on both sides of the road. There were too many for the boy to count, at least as many as had attacked the slave caravan. Old man Asano was white with terror and shaking on the driver's seat, even the big ox pulling the wagon seemed scared.

I have nowhere to go, there are too many of them… what to do, whattodo

Suddenly, he noted that the underside of the wagon was dark, the afternoon sun cast deep shadows. Maybe they hadn't noticed him yet?

Hopeless or not, but it was the only thing he could do. And so, silent as a mouse, the boy crawled under the wagon. Out there, the bandits were circling Hiko-san, grinning like it was the best game ever.

Then Hiko-san took a step forward and the standstill broke.

The bandits attacked him.

Oh no… not Hiko-san, too!

The boy hadn't really wanted to think about what had happened earlier at the slave caravan massacre. He had wanted to forget it, really. For him, seeing blood wasn't all that scary. It was just like red water. But then he saw the bandit who had mocked Hiko-san fall in pieces, just like the one on the moonlight clearing of the massacre night.

And suddenly, the smell of blood rushed over him –

Screaming slave girls, desperate escape from the bandits that surrounded the caravan. / Screaming, shouting, panting. / Trying to run with Kasumi, scary men following them. / Akane falling down with twisted leg and Sakura stopping to help. / The almost-older-sisters trying to protect him… the scary man lifting Kasumi by her hair… Kasumi pleading him to live… live. Shinta.

Live. Shinta.

Live.

Live. For her. Live.

KENSHIN!

Hiko-san was shaking him by the shoulders, shouting something. His dark eyes were narrowed and the white cloak had blood staining it.

It was silent.

Oh.

They were in the middle of the road.

There was the wagon and the ox…. and old man Asano, frowning…

"Put the boy on to the back," Asano growled. "We need to move out."

And Hiko-san lifted him like a shaky broken toy and laid him down at the back of the wagon.

"Stay here and try to breathe, boy. It was just a memory."

And then the wagon started moving and the boy curled on his side, searched for his top. Finding it, he breathed in deep and clutched it tight in his hands.

"A memory..?"


When the boy woke up it was dark and his head was hurting really bad, like something was constantly hitting his forehead right behind his eyes. Taking his time to open his eyes, he noticed that Kasumi's top was still in his hands. Feeling it gave him a sense of reality. He knew now where he was; in the back of the merchant wagon on his way to Hiroshima. He wasn't alone, no. He was travelling with Hiko-san, who had promised to teach him sword fighting.

They were protecting old and mean Asano-san.

The pounding hurt in his head was growing fainter, but he didn't feel like sitting up. It was warm here. Oh, there was a blanket thrown over him.

It really wasn't all that bad, so the boy just snuggled closer into the blanket and laid there in the dark. Slowly, he began to hear voices, old man Asano and Hiko-san talking like they had been every night. He could almost hear what they said. Hurting like this, he didn't feel like moving, but his curiosity was rising. Straining his ears, he tried to focus more... No. No clear words that he could recognize, just a steady mumble.

What would Hiko-san talk about?

Adults spoke differently to each other, he knew. Maybe Hiko-san would speak of the things the boy wanted to know, too? Like about swords and using them? The few times he had talked with Hiko-san had been mostly about himself and that wasn't interesting at all.

…And I know so little about him still.

Now was the first time the boy had a chance to listen in to Hiko-san talking to someone.

He really wanted to. The other night when there had been an opportunity for it, old man Asano had sent him away to do chores. Now, though, there was a perfect chance and the boy couldn't make out any specific words. Dismayed, he asked the spirit-friend if it knew how they could listen in better.

It sent back a confusing bundle of feelings. Helping. Asking. Willingness to help. Him?

'You want to help me, but can't?' The boy frowned.

Cold feel – no. Wanting to help. Asking. Agreeing. Giving permission..?

'I need to let you help me?'

Petting agreement.

How could he do that? Besides, what was stopping the spirit from helping if it wanted? Perhaps… yes, it made sense; the only time the spirit had been able to talk had been when the boy had first talked to it. So now there had to be something stopping it.

Pausing, he tried to feel the spirit and now that he was looking for it, he noticed it.

Huh? There is something between us.

A wall?

How can I remove it?

The boy tried to push it, but it wouldn't move. It seemed to be really sturdy.

But did he have to remove the whole thing? It should be easier to just make a hole and he was good at digging. So, again, he felt the wall between them and now felt odd ridges. It was like the wall was built from layers and layers of things piled on top of each other. He didn't know what the things were, but did try to pick at one.

The warmth of mother hugging him really tightly.

The boy let go in surprise. What..?

Tried again.

And the same feeling flooded over him. It felt so good, almost like he was back at home before the sickness. Stunned, he lifted it and moved it to the side, next to the spot where he was digging a whole. Then, gingerly, he touched the second thing and felt: father smiling at me in approval, when I showed him the bucket full of weeds that I picked from the garden.

The boy could almost cry. He had no words of how much he had missed these feelings, the feeling of belonging to a family, of people liking him, smiling at him. Of people actually looking and seeing him.

Should he touch these things? What were they? Why were they there?

Maybe they were supposed to be there?

The boy turned to lie on his back. It was so dark, probably close to midnight. Thoughtfully, he touched the top in his hands and fiddled with it. Why were those things separating the spirit-friend from me? And why do they hold good memories in them?

He really wanted to feel those feelings locked in the things that made the wall. Just a simple touch and for a moment he hadn't felt so bad and alone. But then again, if he could dig a hole in the wall, maybe the spirit-friend could speak to him better?

Maybe it could even talk to him while they were travelling again?

These last days, he had been so lonely… and that scary memory thing, whatever it had been. He had been so scared. He hadn't even known that memories could be like that. How had it happened? What caused it? Would it happen again? Hopefully not, it had been horrible. He desperately wanted to talk about it with someone.

The murmuring of men's talk continued in the background. Probably it would be okay if he would go and ask Hiko-san about those memories. After all, the swordsman quite often answered the questions he asked, and he had known that the boy had seen memories. So, Hiko-san would be a good person to ask.

But old mean Asano was there, too, and he didn't like the boy at all.

Suddenly, going to talk to the men lost all its appeal.

It was warm and nice here, and he had his blanket and his top. In any case, the spirit-friend had been with him the longest, had helped him the most. It was always there, ready and willing to help.

Thinking about it like that, it really wasn't any decision at all.

So, the boy started digging a hole in the wall between him and the spirit. Touching the things the wall was built of was nice, for they were always warm and comforting. Just for those he would have done this. And knowing that it would help the spirit-friend?

It made it even better.

But no matter his enthusiasm, the work was slow going and for some reason, experiencing the nice good feelings and memories holed in the wall were making him tired. The further he dug, the harder it became to lift and pile the things. But then it was finally done, and the boy stepped back, allowing the spirit-friend's coldness to flow in a trickle through the hole.

He was rewarded by the petting comfort feeling and it was stronger than ever before.

'Good boy.'

The boy smiled, delighted and thought to the spirit, 'You can talk again!'

'Yes.'

Satisfaction flooding over him, the boy smiled. 'Good.'

For the longest time, he had wished to talk to the spirit properly again, but he hadn't known how. But now it was clear that it had been because of the wall between them.

Huh. I really need to do something about it then, he thought sleepily and yawned deeply. But later… when I am not this tired.

Suddenly, heavy steps crunched on sand.

What..?

I know those steps, but Oh. The murmuring sounds of the men's conversation had stopped, and he hadn't even noticed!

A tall familiar shape came out of the darkness.

"Are you alright, boy?"

He nodded warily and rubbed his eyes clear. It didn't help much with his tiredness, but this was important. "What happened? I saw the bandit on the road die."

Hiko-san nodded grimly. "I killed a few, but the rest ran away like the vermin they are, losing their courage." The disdainful scoff followed and told him loud and clear what Hiko-san thought of cowards. "You were screaming pretty loudly. What did you remember?"

Briefly, the boy wondered what he should tell. Not his feelings towards his almost-a-family, it was his pain. But, the rest, well, it wasn't like Hiko-san hadn't seen it. "That night, and Kasumi-san dying."

"Hmmm." Hiko-san looked away, rubbed his chin like he was thinking.

"It will probably happen again."

"Why?"

"When you see things that affect you strongly, your mind may bring those moments back and force you to relive them. It may happen anytime, but it's more likely when events of similar nature occur. It's not very pleasant, but not something to be discouraged over, either. It happens; you face it and grow stronger because of it." The swordsman's voice sounded almost kind. "Use it to remind yourself of why you must get stronger, and what you want to protect."

It was just like Hiko-san to use all those difficult words that the boy didn't understand, especially on a topic that actually mattered a lot. He almost wanted to ask more, but Hiko-san looked somewhat odd and his ki–

It doesn't feel cold at all? The boy's mouth fell slightly open in amazement and he stared at the swordsman… and slowly nodded. This was the first time he had ever felt Hiko to feel nearly warm. He didn't want to ruin it with any questions that would surely only to annoy the swordsman.

Then Hiko-san patted his shoulder and it felt so very good. In that brief touch there was pride, acceptance, comfort, even caring. Perhaps it meant that Hiko-san didn't think badly of him..?

"Get some more sleep, Kenshin. We will head out early tomorrow."

This time the boy couldn't help the smile that rose to his lips. And watching the swordsman leave, he didn't feel so bad and alone anymore. How could he? The spirit-friend could talk now. Hiko-san didn't feel so cold. And most important of it all, he had called the boy by his name.

Everything would be okay.

The top in hand, he snuggled deeper into his blanket and slept.


Edited first by Chie in 2013, then again 28.5.2015 by BelovedStranger