Chapter 7. Out of the frying pan into the fire
They arrived at the city of Hiroshima the next day.
Kenshin had never seen so many people in the same place before, and at first, he was a bit overwhelmed. However, not too long after his natural curiosity in new things won over. However, no matter how rude staring was, Master just told him to stay close and even answered the occasional question without much grumbling.
When they arrived to old man Asano's house, the merchant paid the wage as promised. However, before they had managed to take their leave, old man Asano had insisted on introducing his son, Hideyoshi, to Master. While the swordsman was polite during the introduction and short discussion, at the near end, he glanced from the corner of his eye at Kenshin and raised his brow in a silent question.
Hideyoshi was tall and strong, yes. He seemed like a nice person, in truth, and under other circumstances Kenshin would have been glad to befriend the boy. However, right at that moment, he felt terribly inadequate in comparison and couldn't help a staggering wave of pure jealousy sweeping over him like a thunderstorm.
If I was tall and strong like Hideyoshi, I could have helped Kasumi, I wouldn't have been left alone, would never have been sold… The bitter thoughts rose, and he looked to the side, trying to swallow down the taste of copper on his tongue. No, if all those horrors had to happen, then at least he wouldn't have to keep wondering why Master had chosen him as his only apprentice. Because no matter the swordsman's earlier speech about keeping his word, not needing to lie… It didn't make any more sense now than it had yesterday night.
But then again, maybe it didn't need to?
Master had acknowledged him, had chosen him and had kept his word.
And because of that, Kenshin paused to take a breath, then bit his lip and raised his gaze, battling through his own jealousy and uncertainty, carefully ignoring all the spirit friend's angry mutters and dark feelings towards Asano-san's son.
It must have been one of the most difficult things he had done, to nod in answer to Master's silent question.
To choose to trust, to ignore his fears.
But when they left the compound together, he started to breathe easier. Like with every step there was a weight lifting away from his shoulders.
It wasn't a long travel from there to the city proper, and as the first order of business, Master asked directions to a swordsmith. Kenshin tugged the swordsman's sleeve in silent question, not quite knowing how to ask with words. Thankfully, Master seemed to understand him just fine, and remarked dryly, "What else were you going to begin practicing with? A wooden stick? No. You will need a proper sword."
And that was that.
Now he was carrying a real sword tugged through his belt. It felt heavy and hit against his shin every now and then, especially when he turned too fast, or took a bit too long a step. To make it more awkward, it seemed to get tangled at his wide pant legs quite often and bump into things or people.
However, none of that mattered because it was his sword and the best thing he had ever been given.
Though it had been bit strange how, at the smithy, the craftsman had been surprised to learn Master wanted to buy a real sword for him for some reason. It had taken some convincing, but the craftsman had finally relented to Hiko-san insistence and allowed them to test the blades until they found a suitable one – an used wakizashi. It was a short sword that had been brought to the smithy for repair some years back, and Master said that it was a blade he could grow into, but was short enough for him to work with already.
Kenshin hadn't yet had a time to properly admire his sword, because right after Master had taken him to buy warmer clothes for winter. He now had a new shirt, pants, really warm and odd fur boots, ugly hat and heavy mittens. All of these were now rolled inside his blanket adding to its bulk. He had never owned this much stuff in his life, and somehow, there was this lingering doubt that kept whispering to him. 'You cannot be this lucky, cannot have this much – you are not allowed.'
However, Master had bought all of these things for him and made it clear that all of it was needed, so maybe it was okay. And considering what had happened the last time…
'Kenshin, you are an idiot –'
So, he decided to ignore the creeping doubts and imagined stomping on them for a good measure. Then he wiped his hands, only to get a questioning look from Master for this silliness. He smiled innocently back at the swordsman, getting a scoff in return.
Maybe we are both learning, he thought happily, feeling even better.
Thus, when they were buying food supplies, he dared to tug at Master's sleeve to get his attention before he paid the first price the vendor lady asked. Master curtly apologized for the interruption to the vendor and then followed him to the sidelines, where he demanded an explanation.
"No one pays the first price. You are supposed to haggle. It's a game," Kenshin explained to Master frantically, hoping not to cause disappointment.
But this is important and Master already used so much money on me. He inwardly cringed, but then shook his head. No, if there was something he could do to help, he shouldn't doubt himself.
Master raised his brow and looked down at him long before the corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly and he scoffed, "I suppose you would know about haggling. Alright, you do have a point. Thank you, Kenshin."
That sign of approval was so obvious, it felt so good that it was almost like Kenshin's heart was about to burst in sheer pride.
I did well!
Then the moment passed. Master returned to the vendor and started a long bout of haggling. Every now and then, the swordsman's coldness spiked, and he seemed tenser and tenser, but finally the deal was closed properly without too many swearwords or a further incident. Afterwards, Hiko-san asked him, "So. How did I do?"
Kenshin thought about it before smiling shyly. "Good." And after a moment's pause, he dared to add, "But she won."
Master's stare was piercing, his coldness freezing to stillness, and the whispering doubts screamed at him that he had been too rude, had gone over the limit…
But then, the swordsman scoffed, shook his head and ruffled his hair.
After that, they didn't stay in the city long. Master had said that it was because living in a city was expensive, but Kenshin rather thought that it was because of all the people. So, they were travelling again and now that there wasn't anything to slow Master down, the swordsman set the pace fast. It made Kenshin tire out quickly and they had to take breaks every now and then when he just couldn't continue. However, when he had asked about it, Master said that it was good for training.
On top of all the walking, Master had him practicing basic sword strikes with his new blade every morning and evening after the meals. It was just a simple straight strike to the head, and after repeating it time after time, he couldn't help wondering how useful it could be. After all, he had never seen anyone use it. Finally, when he had dared to ask, Master admitted that it wasn't a very practical move in fights, but it was an important first step as it would teach him to hold the blade in the right way and would help him to learn the 'correct posture'.
After training, Master would draw pictures in the ground with a stick and explain what it meant. Then he would have him repeat it until he got it right. It was a little bit silly, but Master said that it was important – and when he learned that knowing the letters would lead to knowing how to read and write, just like old man Asano's brilliant son, he didn't mind it at all.
One morning, encouraged by the familiar mood, he dared to ask how his name was written. Master showed him and said that it was built from two pictures; "heart" and "sword".
A good name, Kenshin thought judiciously and stared at the two scribbled pictures on the ground. Curious, he then asked about his former name. Master obliged and drew it, warning him that it might not be the correct one, there were apparently many possibilities, but the most likely was "heart" and "big".
There wasn't much difference between the two, he decided. The only real difference was that now even his name told that he had a sword and was learning to use it. It was fitting in a way, and somehow made the new name feel more like his.
The reading and writing lessons became a daily routine for them. It was even fun most of the time, although there seemed to be so many pictures. It was almost stupid, really - how could anyone remember all of them? Master had scoffed at him, and told him that no one could, and most people remembered only the most common ones.
But didn't that mean that most of the people couldn't read or write very well? Why would they write like that? It just didn't make sense that no one hadn't made up a simpler way.
Not that he dared to say any of this aloud, especially after Master told him how 'intelligent and educated' people spent years learning to write the words, and how it was 'perfection in the motion' to see beautifully written words and how 'calligraphy represented the best virtues'.
It all seemed to matter a lot to Master.
So he decided to give it his best effort. And in truth, the word-pictures were kind of pretty once he got used to them. Not that impossible to remember either, once he realized that the lines came to look a bit like a picture the word represented.
The time they travelled was still spent in silence. Master seemed to enjoy the quiet and because of all the lessons, Kenshin thought that it was okay to give him some peace. It wasn't like he had no one to talk with; after all, spirit-friend was always there.
So, weeks went by. The last leaves left the trees and it was becoming colder to sleep outside. Kenshin had taken to wearing both of his shirts at nights. The nightmares hadn't bothered him much anymore, now that he was so tired every night.
All in all, it was almost nice, living like this.
They had crossed another border post and started towards the mountains. Climbing was hard work for him, and it was there that the first snowfall had finally come. Kenshin had seen snow before, of course; he had been born near a mountain and the snowfall had been a given thing every winter.
However, he had never tried to sleep outside in the winter.
Master said that it wasn't nice, but it could be done. So, he showed Kenshin how to stomp the snow and how to find stuff under the bed roll to insulate it, how to build small walls from snow to protect against the wind and to keep warmth better, and how to sleep while sitting up. It was still cold, even after Kenshin wore all of his clothes throughout the day. And after some grumbling, he started to wear his most hated piece of clothing, too: the new knitted hat. Against the freezing coldness it didn't matter that it was ugly and awkward, felt odd on his ears or that it was too big and fell to cover his eyes every now and then.
Then it got even colder, and none of his new clothes were enough to stop him from shivering. Those nights Master said it was okay if Kenshin wanted to sleep next to him. And he did – under the odd white cloak and Hiko-san's large arm, it was safe and warm to sleep.
The winter weather made the camping different, too. Usually, they made camp on the road side, and in the autumn it had even been practical. Why should they waste time and effort to seek better shelter? But with heavy snowfall or during particularly nasty wind, the open roadsides weren't ideal and Master would build some cover from the conifer branches or would try to find a cave or a hollow in the mountainside.
They had also taken to travelling longer. Kenshin hadn't protested, because walking kept him warmer, but the snow covered roads were slippery and harder to walk, so the travel pace slowed down. They would stop to rest when he couldn't continue anymore and start travelling again when he felt fit enough for it. During the days, master would give him dried meat to chew on. He wasn't used to walking and eating at the same time, and it was odd – almost silly, but he learned the trick to it fast enough. What was weird though, was how he ate and ate a lot more than usual, but he would never feel full.
Walking in the snow all day long was… weird. He had to lift his feet higher and the roads were mostly upslope – it was causing him to tire out easily. Or maybe it was the cold. No matter what he did, it was always so cold.
It wasn't a surprise that sometime later his nose started to run. It had happened every winter back home and Mother had kept him indoors then… but it wasn't odd or dangerous. Just annoying. So, he was constantly sniffling and wiping the snot to his sleeves. His lips felt raw and chapped and the skin under his nose was tender; the snot oozing down to it stung, but wiping it away hurt more.
What was surprising, however, was when after a particularly nasty night, he wasn't cold any more. Nothing about the weather had changed, but for some reason, he was sweating. He told Master, who took a good look at him, touched his brow and said a really bad word, his ki feeling really, really odd. Then Master lifted him into his arms, and it was almost nice to fall asleep, resting his head against Master's shoulder.
After leaving Hiroshima, Hiko had chosen to wander north. He wasn't sure what to do about the winter. These past three years that he had been by himself on the road, he had just travelled through the winter and played it by ear. If the weather had taken a bad turn, he had found a safe spot to tide over the worst. In a way, travelling in the winter season was almost a blessing, for it was sure to take his mind away from his memories.
Then it was just him and nature.
Surviving.
It helped him to remember that people were just a tiny part of the world and their worries didn't matter much in the larger scale, thus making all his regrets and horrors settle into a manageable scope.
But he was not travelling alone anymore—now he had an apprentice. Regardless of the rocky start, Kenshin was proving to be almost a pleasure to teach; he learned fast and didn't need much instruction. And the way the kid had taken the blade, almost like a fish that had been put to water and had realized it could swim! The correct grip, the delicate movements that guided the blade, the right footwork – he needed to give just an example and occasional correction, and Kenshin could keep it up and perform every strike like it was supposed to.
It was almost odd; gods knew that most men would become lazy with the boring repetitions and start to prefer one hand over other, move their point of balance, never understanding the necessity of performing the exercises in the exact way and thus forging the motions to muscle memory.
But Kenshin never faltered.
The little waif just kept to the correct motions and did the repeats until he told the boy to quit for the night. Either it meant that the kid was a natural or a perfectionist. At this point, it was hard to say which – the taught motions were simple, and Hiko wasn't about to start pushing the kid too fast just to satisfy his curiosity.
And in any case, both were very positive traits.
Another thing to be pleased about was how the reading and writing lessons were shaping up. Hiko had many issues about teaching such basics, especially when the subject was one he personally cared much about. With his memory and how the calligraphy had been one of the few good things from his youth before the sword, he hadn't been very enthusiastic about seeing a child to mangle the carefully choreographed motions he still found comfort in. But to his surprise, especially considering the lack of teaching materials, the boy had proven to have a good eye for letters and remembered the words fairly easily.
During those evening exercises, they had also had some good discussions, and Kenshin had slowly been breaking out of his muteness and started talking more.
Occasionally even asking questions unprompted!
However, after listening to the boy talk and ask questions freely, he had begun to understand that Kenshin's mind worked in decidedly odd ways. The kid would occasionally ask questions that even he didn't know an answer for; such as about spirits, or even more oddly, about memories stored in walls, of all things…
Hmmph, kids!
But all in all, they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. It was almost pleasant.
These past years he had been on the road, the winter had been a hard season to travel and usually only the desperate or the foolish dared to risk the road then. Hiko was neither, but had rather taken a likening to the solitude and the challenge the winter offered for traveler. But now that he had Kenshin, it was becoming clear that he would need to figure out other options.
The snowfall was unusually late this year, even though it was nearing the last weeks of the year. The air was still moist and there hadn't even been night frost. It was an indication that the winter should prove to be exceptionally mild, so Hiko decided to risk it and head to the western coast. He could find some suitable work in some town or village, and they could wait out the coldest months. The lowlands would be good for finding bodyguard jobs and the Izumo prefecture was particularly lax about Ronin. There would be no issues with overly sensitive Samurai… unlike in Aki.
So, a plan in mind, he chose the road through the mountains. If the weather would continue to hold, they wouldn't even have to suffer through any snow.
Of course it wasn't to be.
The first snow fell before they were even halfway through the mountains. If he could have hit himself for his stupidity, he would have. Damn his best laid plans and stubborn pride.
It was clear from early on that Kenshin couldn't handle the bad weather like him. It was no wonder, now that he stopped to think about it – he was a healthy adult man at his peak, and Kenshin was… a scrawny child, and so very thin. But no matter the circumstances, it was just as long a way back at that point, so he just carried on, never letting his worries show, just handling the situation the best he could. He tried to find good places to make camp, gave the kid dried meat to chew on to keep his strength up while they walked, showed Kenshin how to handle the cold weather and occasionally on really cold nights even invited the badly shivering child to sleep next to him.
So they managed.
Survived the weather and nature.
They were almost done with the mountains when the kid started sniffling and then the exhaustion caused by little sleep and long days of walking finally caught up with him.
The fever rose.
Hiko cursed and picked the kid up, and hurried to find help. Screw his pride, screw his plans, and screw his arrogance! There was no time and there was no questioning the need – the fever could kill.
The boy woke up to faint clattering sounds. It was warm, warm for the first time in forever, but still everything hurt. And more importantly, he was thirsty.
His eyes felt like they had been dried shut, and opening them was difficult, but after a few tries he managed.
Huh, that's a ceiling.
A ceiling!
When had he last seen a ceiling from the inside?
"Oh, you are finally awake! Here, drink this," a kind, soft voice called out, and then somebody was lifting him to sit up. Something warm and tasty was poured into his mouth. He tried to swallow – coughed – why is drinking hard?
Someone was wiping his face with a cloth.
"Just try to drink. It will help you feel better. You have been very sick."
The kind voice had been so nice and calm that it was easy to stop thinking and just obey.
Drinking was slow going, but he managed to get most of the broth swallowed.
He felt so tired. Everything hurt.
"Just sleep."
"He is getting better finally. I managed to get him to drink some broth earlier, so the worst should be over now. He should eat as much as he can, really. He is terribly thin."
"Was he coherent?"
"As much as could be expected. He didn't speak, didn't even try."
"That's not surprising. Kenshin rarely speaks unprompted."
"Is there something wrong with him?"
"No. The boy is just shy around strangers."
"Oh… that explains it. Some children can be wary of new adults like that. But really, what possessed you to take a risk like that!? Going through the mountains in the middle of winter! With a child, no less!"
"My reasons are my own. However, I thank you for your concern and your hospitality."
"Forgive me my rudeness. It's not my place to question your reasons. But please, I cannot in good conscience let you go out there again. It will be a certain death to you and to that child, and this year has seen enough death."
"True. However, I couldn't impose upon your generosity."
"By all means, please do." Laughter. "I could use the company."
"I cannot offer much as compensation for your kindness…"
"Keep your compensation. I have plenty, but it's the company and conversation I lack. And strong arms, too, to help out with a chore or two."
"I will, of course, offer you my assistance where you need it."
"Then it's settled."
Next time the boy woke, it was dark.
He really had to pee.
He tried to rise, but it hurt. His arms shook against his weight and his legs felt more like limp grass. How could he walk like this? Where should he even go?
"What is it?" Master's voice called.
"I need to get to the outhouse," the boy explained, embarrassed. Maybe if I waited, the kind voice would return…
A rustle. Someone rising. Steps.
"All right, up we go," Master said and lifted him to stand. The boy's legs shook and didn't feel steady at all.
"Can you walk?"
"I don't think so," he admitted.
"It's too cold out there for you. Just use the bucket there and lean on me."
Eyes wide and blood rushing to his cheeks, the boy stared in mortification at the large shape in darkness. No! He couldn't, not in front of master! But… But the kind voice wasn't here, Master was and his legs didn't feel sturdy enough, and he really had to pee.
So he swallowed, and nodded, then hesitantly leaned onto the swordsman and started to walk slowly, like his legs had forgotten how to work properly.
Afterwards, Master helped him back to the bed and tucked a blanket back on him.
"Just try to sleep."
He was too tired to complain or to ask questions, and it was really nice and warm and dark and…
Rustling. Odd low ticking sounds, like something hit together in a steady clip. Breathing?
Someone is close by?
The ticking continued and it was almost nice to listen to it, but after a while curiosity won and Kenshin opened his eyes slowly, turned his head a bit.
There was a person… a woman was sitting next to him. She was doing something with her hands, no, with wooden sticks that she hit together to make that noise. There was yarn surrounding the sticks… She is weaving it together?
Fascinated, never having seen such a thing, he stared. Not that he had seen the woman before either, but she didn't feel threatening. Her spirit felt – soft and very faint, like lukewarm water?
Where am I, anyway? Inside a house, yes, with a woman he didn't know, and she was doing something odd that he didn't know what it was either. Feeling at loss but disinclined to move or to ask from this strange person… that left, the better option, really.
'Hey, what happened?' he asked the spirit.
It answered fast, sending back a feeling of confusion, then words. 'Alone. A long time.' Then concern and an enquiring feeling.
The spirit didn't know either? He had been sick, that he was pretty sure of. Master had helped him, tucked him into bed… Yes. He had definitely been sick.
Why can't I remember more?
A wave of panic struck him and he couldn't help but to ask out loud the most important thing, "Where is Master?" Or at least he intended to ask those words, but he ended up producing only an odd wheezing sound. His throat was dry and even frantic swallowing didn't help out much.
"Oh, you are wake! How are you feeling?" the woman asked in return, letting the sticks fall down from her hands and turned to him.
She had brown eyes, and a kind face which was startlingly not covered in lines – not old like the village doctors' – like Ine-sama's had been.
"Tired," the boy answered, confused. It was easier to answer than to ask. But… he had to know, so, "Master?"
"Oh, you mean your handsome young guardian, Hiko-san? He is outside, waving around that sword of his."
The feeling of relief was almost overwhelming.
I wasn't left behind.
Or so she said, but what if… He just had to be sure, so he tried to feel the Master's coldness. It wasn't very hard and he had been practicing it during the travelling times, so he should be able to know for sure if he concentrated… There was the strange woman, further away… nothing? But there… there it was! The sharp coldness – just on the edge of his ability to feel, but definitely there.
The boy sighed, and relaxed.
"Are you hungry?" the strange woman asked.
He was about to nod, but she wasn't looking at him, rather she was looking at the woven mess of yarn and the sticks that held it together, so he managed a faint, "Yes."
"Wait a moment, I will warm up some broth for you."
The boy lay back down and watched the strange woman putter around the cooking area of the hut. She poured something into the kettle, and set it to warm up on the fire crackling softly in the center of the house.
If Master left me here and is just outside maybe I can trust this strange woman, he relaxed and looked around curiously.
The house was small, with a simple dirt floor. At the sides, straw mats covered the ground. The walls were made out of wood, just like his old home had been, not out of packed mud or stone. The roof was made out of straw, too. There were some belongings and rolled up bedding near the wall. The fire hearth in the middle kept it all warm.
All in all, it felt homey.
It was weird being inside a house, he decided after a while. It had been such a long time. But what made it even weirder was how it was very similar to the houses back home. So alike that it could almost be one of them, just another house in the village near the mountain. Not that it was possible, though. He may not have been sure where his old home was, but it definitely hadn't been up north where Master had led them.
The broth in the kettle smelled really good, and somehow smelling it made him realize how very hungry he was. The loud growling noise his stomach let out attested to that, immediately. So, he tried to sit up and did manage it by himself after some struggle.
I did it!
He smiled in triumph at this proof that he wasn't quite as weak as he had been.
The strange woman took the kettle from fire and poured the broth into a bowl, then gave it to him with the words, "You should eat it all. There is more, if you can manage."
The boy nodded, and drank a tiny sip – it was really good, he realized with widening eyes. He didn't think he had ever tasted anything so good. So hastily slurping it down as fast as he could, he didn't mind that it was still hot, scorching on his tongue and throat, in fact, but in a good way.
It warmed him up completely.
The fire crackled merrily in the background while the strange woman watched him and smiled. Then he was done, and gave her the bowl back with a sheepish smile.
"Do you want more?"
He tilted his head, and thought about it. It had been so good, but his stomach felt full to the bursting point. Maybe I could manage some more?
"No. Thank you," he finally said, avoiding her eyes and playing with the edge of his blanket.
"You sure?"
He nodded.
A frown in answer.
She seemed so disappointed, and for some reason, seemed to demand more for an answer, so, "It was really good, but I don't think I can eat more."
"All right, if you say so. But you should try to eat as much as you can. You are terribly thin."
Huh? But I have always been like this… but he nodded in answer anyway.
Steps outside, clanking sounds.
What..?
…Oh, it's Master –he could recognize that coldness anywhere.
Then the door opened and cold air flowed in.
"Close the door! And do come in, your ward is awake at last." Her voice seemed happy, and she tilted her head to the side, baring little bit of neck and swept her hair behind her ear.
Master had a funny look on his face, but he didn't feel angry, rather the swordsman seemed… careful and cautious? Master, cautious? But the swordsman nodded at the woman, face very still and ki oddly small and tight, then glanced at the boy, and said, "I apologize. Kenshin, you had me worried for a while."
An apology? What is going on? And that odd feel… Never before had Master looked or behaved like that. What does it mean?
While he had been staring at the swordsman in growing alarm, the strange woman had taken the wooden sticks back into her hands and started weaving the yarn again, the only sound being the steady ticking. Master kicked the last of the snow from his shoes, and barred the door firmly shut. He didn't look at the woman at all; instead, he laid his sword to lean next to the wall, shook out his cloak then settled down next to the fire, pointedly on the opposite side from the woman.
Kenshin couldn't help but stare.
Master kept a distance from the woman, and avoided looking at her almost like he was waiting for her to suddenly attack or something. And at the same time, the strange woman was behaving more like Master usually would: being sure of herself, giving orders and expecting people to obey immediately. She just sat there calmly, doing just as she pleased.
It was really weird.
And suddenly, the strange lady didn't seem so nice and kind anymore. Just how dangerous could she be if even Master was afraid of her?
No, not afraid, he decided after a brief contemplation. Master could win against a group of bandits, he wouldn't be afraid of a single woman – but there was something not right with the situation either. He didn't know what to think, didn't know anything, really. He didn't know where they were, how they had gotten here or who the strange woman even was.
Would it be okay to ask?But it was so silent and tense that it didn't feel okay to speak, but maybe now that Master was here…
Kenshin glanced at the woman, and then back to Master. Tilted his head, waiting.
Master saw it, paused, then cleared his throat. "Kenshin, this is Osumi-san. She has agreed to let us stay until you are better."
"No. The agreement was that you would stay until the roads were clear. So Hiko-san and you, dear child, will be staying here for a while." The woman, Osumi-san, smiled brightly at Master and then looked back at the boy, nodding firmly like it was decided.
Just like that?
Never stopping in her weaving, she continued decisively. "In any case, it would be madness for you to go back to travelling until the roads clear out."
Master glanced at her, frowned but didn't disagree.
Has the world gone crazy while I was sick?
AN: Edited first by Chie in 2013, then again 8.9.2015 by BelovedStranger.
