Chapter 12. Aftermaths

Hiko watched the boy sleep.

When he had returned to the tiny village after his mission to clear out the local bandit camps and the few Ronin who had been terrorizing the area, he had seen the burning farm house from a long distance. It was a clear sign that something was seriously wrong and what had he found? Two dead samurai, one stabbed to the heart and the second one disemboweled. And of course to make matters even more complicated, the farmer he had left in charge of his apprentice and the man's little girl had both been senseless in hysteria.

It hadn't been difficult to piece together the whole picture. He should have known not to leave Kenshin alone. In hindsight, it had been a mistake but this? This was just impossible.

Hiko had been ready to shout his lungs hoarse for the boy's idiocy.

After all, killing a samurai was a serious crime. But to kill samurai who were on a mission for their lord?

Heads would roll for that crime.

The old farmer knew it, too. So Hiko had given the old man most of his money and told him to gather his family and disappear. Then he had gathered his unconscious idiot student in his arms and taken off.

While Kenshin's unconscious state worried Hiko, it wasn't a priority, not in the face of trouble of this magnitude. Now, his main concern was to get away before those samurai would be missed. He had no intention of letting his only apprentice be caught and sentenced to death for this utter stupidity. Unfortunately, the boy wasn't exactly difficult to recognize, and the old farmer would definitely rat them out to anyone asking.

Well, not that Hiko could begrudge the old man for it. After all, what other protection a crippled farmer had for his family but sacrificing some kid who had got himself into trouble? No, it wouldn't be even a difficult choice for that man.

There was no doubt that soon every samurai, guardsman, town official and busybody in the region would know that a red haired young man with a sword had murdered two samurai in Settsu. It didn't matter if anyone would believe it – the word would get out and the rumor would carry it further. And the first places they would check were the border posts, which made leaving the province a high priority.

Hiko made haste as long as he could before finally daring to stop for rest. He washed their clothing, acutely conscious of how the bloodstains would attract attention and catch wandering eyes like honey did flies. Then he had checked on the kid and noticed, to his concern, that Kenshin was still unconscious, even after an entire evening of hurried travel.

What's wrong with him? Hiko didn't know but a few reasons why anyone would stay unconscious that long and none of them were good.

As he feared when the boy woke up a few hours later, he was in great pain and disoriented as all hell.

Even worse, though awake, Kenshin wasn't all there in the head.

He doesn't react to even his own name! Goddammit, it's possible the boy has gotten a concussion and started bleeding in the skull! Hiko cursed inwardly and checked the kid's head again for wounds and bumps.

Nothing.

Hiko sighed in relief, and ran through the basics once more. Kenshin's eyes followed stimuli well and the kid could hear, but it wouldn't do for the kid to fall asleep. Anything could happen with head injuries. He wasn't sure if this was one, but what else it could be?

The kid's swordspirit was behaving oddly. Hiko had never felt Kenshin's ki behaving like that and he was startled enough to mark it aloud, and dammit, again, loss of focus in those pale eyes. Yelling the boy's name did nothing, nor did shaking him or any other primitive measure he could resort to. However, all of a sudden, Kenshin blinked, and then frowned, his ki began settling down. Just like that. Then in a span of a few breaths, it felt almost normal again and the boy fell asleep.

Hiko wasn't quite sure what had happened, but with Kenshin resting more normally, it seemed that the worst was over. Or it would be, if he could just manage to outrun rumors and loose tongues.

It took him two days to get out of the province. Before approaching the border post he removed his cloak, rolled it inside his bedroll and covered Kenshin's hair. Both were far too memorable. On a side thought, he took the kid's wakizashi and slipped it through his own sash.

The border post guard was hostile as usual and when he demanded their names, Hiko answered, "Ronin Hiroto and apprentice Shinta, travelling back to Nagato."

The guard marked it down in the ledger sourly, before asking, "What's wrong with the kid?"

"Fell sick," Hiko bit out curtly, adjusting his hold on the boy.

After a slight hesitation, the guard finally nodded and let them through.

Hiko nearly sighed in relief. So the word hadn't got out yet. He had been faster than he thought, then. However, it was better not to risk it and try to pass another border as fast as he could. After all, if he was forced to fight, it would only stir the flames.

Kenshin's continuous exhaustion kept worrying him, but as the kid woke up occasionally and was willing to eat and drink, he was finally beginning to relax. It was only on the road from Bizen to Kurashiki that the boy finally seemed to be getting better.

Well, sort of.


Kenshin woke up only to blink, as his eyes watered from the brightness of the day. The sun was high up in the sky and he was being carried, by—

But why would Master carry me?

"You are awake again. Good. Are you thirsty?"

"Yes," Kenshin murmured. It was an unabashed truth, his throat was parched.

Master handed him the water jug, the one that he always carried at his waist, but didn't stop walking. Kenshin drank greedily. He felt weak, even the sheer effort of drinking was exhausting and he gave the jug back, settling to rest his head on Master's shoulder.

After a moment of tiredly glancing around and having absolutely no idea where they were headed, he finally asked, "Where are we?"

"The coastal road to Kurashiki. We are at Bizen province at the moment."

"Oh… It goes through Aki?" Kenshin asked idly, trying to focus on the present and to locate them on his mental map of the countryside he had collected through the years.

"Yes."

"What happened?" It was strange, but for some reason he didn't have any idea how they had gotten here. Last he remembered was being so very tired.

"What do you remember?"

Remember?

The spirit, the wall, confusion. Kenshin pressed his fingers to his brow and frowned, trying to focus.There was a fire, screaming and blood. Samurai – Miya!

"Miya! What happened to Miya?"

"The little girl, the farmer's daughter back in Settsu?"

"Yes, her. What happened to her?"

"Hmmph. I cannot say. She was fine the last I saw her. She had gone to fetch her mother from the field. Her father was quite upset. I gave them money and told them to leave and start again somewhere else."

"That's good. So she was okay?"

"Well, other than having her home burned down and witnessing a murder, I would say she was alright."

Murder?

Yes, those samurai died. But why? How?

And the house had been burning?

"Why did the house burn?"

"I don't know. The little I managed to gather from Kouta-san suggested that the samurai had burned it because of debts. Speaking of samurai, want to tell me why they died?"

"I…. I, they were threatening Kouta-san. Broke his rib and all. Miya got upset and tried to help her father. She got angry and yelled at them," Kenshin stuttered, trying to remember why, why"She called them bad names, and, and… the thin one wanted to kill her for insulting him. Drew his blade and everything. I… I wanted to protect her. Kouta-san didn't do anything useful to help her, just begged for mercy, it was so wrong—"

"Wanted to protect her, huh?"

"Yes."

"So? What happened?"

What happened? What did I do? It was getting harder to remember. He had been so angry. Scared, too, but he had wanted to be a hero, so—

"I told them to let go of her. They called me a foreigner and, and asked how I would protect Miya and Kouta-san. The saw my sword and said that it was wrong for me to carry a sword. I was so angry. I wanted to hurt the thin one and then… someone choked me. Took my sword. Threw it away like it was thrash. I couldn't breathe, I felt so helpless, and angry and useless, and, and…"

"Breathe, boy. Calm down. That's it. No reason to get upset. What is done is done. Just tell me what happened."

Kenshin swallowed, trying to gather his erratic thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but I think I kicked the one holding me, took the sword and… and then I, I stabbed the thin one. But then the other one attacked and I didn't have time to think, so I dodged and struck through his stance just like you taught me and… oh."

"What oh?"

"I think I killed them," Kenshin whispered, his eyes widening.

I killed them

Oh god, I killed samurai.

No, no, no!

"Yes you did. Quite cleanly, in fact. One was stabbed through the heart and the other disemboweled. Effective," Master said calmly.

Of course Master would be calm! Master, he killed people. But Kenshin had never killed anyone.

"What I don't understand is why you felt the need to interfere in the first place. They were samurai. They were in their legal rights to drive away the tenants from the land owned by their lord. In fact, they were just doing their duty."

Kenshin tried to find the words, still reeling over the realization that his hands were stained with blood now. But legal rights? Duty?

"They were ordering Miya and Kouta-san out of their home! They didn't listen when Kouta-san said that he would have money soon. That his sons were coming home with the money to pay for taxes."

"They didn't need to listen to Kouta. They had been given orders and it was their duty to obey."

"But, they threatened to kill Miya for saying a bad word!"

"Which they still had a legal right to do."

"But it's WRONG! How could it be right?"

"It's the way things are. It's not nice nor is it pretty. So, you killed them for that, huh?"

"Yes." Kenshin whispered. Put like that, it sounded really bad, didn't it?

"It's a crime to kill a samurai. It's a crime punishable by death to interfere with their duties," Master observed quietly, his ki feeling really cold.

"I know."

"So why did you do it?"

"I… I thought that they were bad men and they were threatening innocents. So, I wanted to do as you do. Like you say Hiten Mitsurugi should be used."

"Hmmm."

"Was I wrong?" Kenshin asked, frightened. Yet somehow, Master didn't seem angry. A bit disappointed maybe, but not angry.

Those samurai were bad men. They were, I know it. But if they were in their legal rights, doesn't that mean they were right according to the law? Kenshin paused in thought. He hesitated, because he still didn't think he had been wrong to stop them. But what would it mean, if bad men could do bad things and it was right by the law?

"I am not saying you were wrong to try to protect the girl. But you were wrong to interfere. If you hadn't butted in – the way you did – then the situation may or may not have gone better or worse, but you wouldn't be in trouble with the law."

In trouble with the law… Kenshin inhaled sharply, the realization finally starting to sink in.

"What I am trying to say is that there were better ways to deal with the situation."

I killed samurai. A crime. A deed punishable by death.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"For trying to obey the creed of Hiten Mitsurugi? For protecting the innocents? Nothing from the authorities, if I have anything to say about it. But from me? Oh, you will be getting a lesson you will never forget about obeying orders and using common sense. Not now, but when we are back home and you are healthy." Master scoffed. "Idiot student."

It didn't sound so bad. And for once, it felt good to be called 'idiot student'. It meant that he was still a student. Master wasn't going to give him up.

Kenshin yawned quietly, exhaustion weighing on him.

"Hmmm. Getting tired again? Just sleep. I will wake you up for dinner."

So he slept.


Blood.

The smell of blood. It was so tangy and heavy—

Disgusting.

It was creeping up his nostrils and rising to his mouth. He wanted to heave, but he couldn't. He was drowning in it. It was drenching him all over.

Blood. Shouts. Screaming—

"Aaaaahh!"

Silence.

Why did it stop?

Oh… It was me that was screaming. Desperately gulping for air, Kenshin tried to keep breathing, his heart beating rabbit fast.

"Boy! Kenshin! Focus!"

Inhale, exhale. Why is breathing so difficult?

He tried to look up where his Master's voice was coming from, but why were his eyes so foggy?

Oh, he was crying.

"Breathe, boy. Just breathe. It's over now."

In and out. In and out.

Slowly, his breathing became easier and his heart no longer tried to jump out of his chest.

"It was just a dream, Kenshin. Calm down."

He was calm. He was! But a dream? Since when had dreams been so real? And why did he still feel wet? There was no blood here.

He looked down.

Oh.

He had wet the bed.


The next day after finally getting a coherent discussion out of Kenshin, it became clear that not everything was right with the boy; the nightmares had started again. For the first time in three years, the boy was screaming through the night and wetting the bed.

It was disgraceful.

The boy was a teenager now, for god's sake!

But then again, Kenshin had killed. Death wasn't a nice thing for anyone to witness, never mind of doing the deed by himself. And though the boy was growing up, well, he was still a kid. A kid with a history of mental trauma and an impressive collection of bad memories.

So really, it wasn't all that surprising.

They kept travelling, and though he usually wouldn't have bothered, Hiko carried Kenshin when he couldn't keep going, because it was impossible to say how far and how fast the word of the murders would go out. There was a good chance that the crime would be forgotten with enough distance to dim the memories.

After all, such disturbances were happening all over the country.

It had lead to increasingly harsher punishments as the Bakufu tried to control the situation. However, now with the rumors of a foreigner murdering samurai mixed into the mess, the hearsay could fly off the handle and still the tense situation into full-blown chaos. The safest thing would be to lay low and wait for it to blow over and for that they needed to get back to 12th master's house in Nagato.

Kenshin was getting better, but the loss of sleep was hindering his recovery. Hiko still didn't know why the boy was so wiped out. There was no logical reason to it and the boy didn't have any noticeable injuries.

But then again, Hiko was coming to strongly suspect that ki was involved and that was something he couldn't make better in any way. No, the best he could do was wait and hope for the best.

In Suo province, they finally heard the rumors of a foreigner killing samurai in the countryside and that the Kuto clan was screaming for blood. Rumors also told that the foreigner hadn't been alone – he had travelled with a Ronin.

Some of the rumors were so wildly inaccurate that Hiko wasn't too worried. The foreigner had shot the samurai because all foreigners used guns. The foreigner had fallen in love with a girl and had dueled over her. The foreigner had rounded together a Ronin army and attacked the provincial government. The Ronin army built by the foreigner was attempting to overthrow the Shogunate.

In fact, many of the rumors were almost amusing in their inaccuracy.

But in the midst of all this nonsense and blithering lies by the bored and stupid, there were two things that always stayed the same: the foreigner had killed samurai and a Ronin had helped him escape. Which made Hiko's and Kenshin's current identities risky – it wasn't exactly a difficult puzzle to piece together the facts, given his swords and the boy's alien coloring.

So whenever on public roads, Hiko carried his swords hidden in their bedroll and had Kenshin's hair covered with scarf ripped from the hem of his Kimono.

It was almost a month later when they finally reached home.

Home.

When had the old cottage become home?


Kenshin was once again washing his soiled bedding and clothes. He hated this. He was almost a man, not a little kid. So why did this keep happening? Thankfully, Master didn't remark on his shame, just tactfully ignored him on mornings like these.

"The dreams will run their course," the older man kept saying.

But the nights filled with the smell of blood, screaming and shouting didn't seem to let go.

And more than anything else, Kenshin was ashamed.

The spirit kept comforting him, petting him and reminding him that they had saved Miya, that they had been right. Even Master hadn't thought that it had been wrong of him to kill.

But still, Kenshin couldn't help feeling guilty and somehow stained.

When he dared to ask about it once more, Master had answered like he always had. "A sword is a weapon. Swordsmanship is the art of killing. Whatever pretty words you use, this is its true nature." Then Master nodded and added thoughtfully, "Kenshin, as a student of swordsmanship, you will need to understand this; killing is a fact of life. However, what you need is to use your sense to consider who you should kill. Hiten Mitsurugi is an ancient style created for the protection of the weak, but how it should be used for this purpose…that is what you need to learn."

Kenshin nodded, but though the words made sense, well sort of, the lecture didn't make him feel better. He knew the principles of Hiten Mitsurugi and had thought he understood it.

He knew that killing was necessary. There were evil people who needed to be killed. Hiten Mitsurugi was used for this purpose. Master was adamant on that. But Master kept saying he needed to understand who should be killed – and from which deaths the weak benefitted the most.

It wasn't very helpful.

The smell of blood, and the screams…

Even amidst the throes of the worst guilt, fears and doubts, Kenshin didn't think he had been wrong to kill the samurai to protect Miya. But at the same time, there was the fact that they had been in their legal rights to demand her life for the insult she had offered.

Did that mean that the law was wrong? Somehow, the thought kept coming back to him. It seemed too large a concept to even think about. But if the law was wrong…

What could be done about it?

Kenshin didn't know.

Kenta didn't know either. Truthfully, Kenshin didn't even dare to follow the thought further. But still, somehow, the idea kept haunting his thoughts.

During their travel, Master had kept covering his hair and Kenshin had endured the indignity, for people had always stared and noticed it and now that the rumors kept going about the murder of the samurai… Well, while Kenshin didn't think he had been wrong, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he couldn't get into trouble for it.

He didn't want to die.

He just wanted to hide.

Master agreed with him.

They arrived to the 12th Master's house early that year. At the beginning of autumn, about two moons earlier than ever before. Master said that they wouldn't be leaving for a while. Not while the rumors kept going strong.

So they trained.

The good thing about training was that it allowed Kenshin to sleep better; the exhaustion seemed to drive away the dreams. It was a good thing, because he hated dreaming of blood.

Training consisted mainly of sparring and hard physical training. All the things that he knew already, but it didn't matter. But it was only a few weeks later when Master asked to see his sword during a break from the exercise. Obediently, he gave it to the older man.

Master stroked his chin and looked thoughtful. "There is something wrong with your form. Here, try this."

And then, Master Hiko gave the Winter Moon to him.

Kenshin stared at it in a stunned silence.

What's going on?

Master never lets anyone touch his sword. Anyone!

He swallowed, but hesitantly accepted the sleek wooden scabbard. Kenshin had always admired the blade, it was so beautiful; long, strong, simple but elegant.

"Don't stare at it like an idiot. Just try it out. I need to see something."

With no further prompting, Kenshin drew it. The sword felt odd – heavy. But it didn't feel wrong. The familiar forms of kata just flowed, and the blade felt like it was made for this and Kenshin smiled in exhilaration and sped up the dancing motions of the practiced forms.

"Stop."

Kenshin looked at Master in silent question, a bit disappointed at having to stop so soon. But Hiko tapped Kenshin's old wakizashi idly with his fingers. "I was right. This blade is getting too short for you. If I hadn't seen it, I would have never believed it. You are as short as ever, but still, to regain your proper form, you will need a proper katana."

"Oh."

Reluctantly, Kenshin handed the Winter Moon back to Master, and took his wakizashi. In comparison to the other blade it felt awkward; too short, too light.

The next day, Master packed up for travel.

"I will be out for a while. In the interim, stay here and keep out of trouble."

"What? But I want to come with you!"

"No. Alone, the people don't think much of me; I am but a ronin among many others. But with you? They will look and remember the rumors. It's too dangerous for you to travel."

And that was that.

Being alone in an empty house didn't sit well with Kenshin. Everything was too silent, the house creaked and echoed and somehow it was little bit scary. It was but an hour later that he felt like going mad, alone with his thoughts and fears and doubts and so he turned to the spirit.

Kenta was happy of this development.

Together they trained throughout the whole afternoon, late into dusk, trying to keep going – to let the exhaustion chase away the dreams. It didn't work very well. For some reason, it seemed stupid to wave the sword around or keep up his physical training now that the Master wasn't there to supervise.

But at breakfast a couple days later, interrupting Kenshin's brooding about the dreams and memories of the dying samurai, Kenta brought up a good point. 'You were too weak to do anything, but when this spirit flowed through the wall to your side, we were stronger and faster.'

'Huh?'

'We were.'

Kenshin chewed on his meal of rice and miso, and tried to remember.

The hand choking me… I had almost given up, and then Kenta came and suddenly it was easy to take the sword. To stab. Dodge. Slash.

It had been easy.

They were samurai. It shouldn't have been easy for a boy to kill them.

But it had been.

He swallowed.

'You are right.' Kenshin uttered, sitting there in stunned silence, the rice bowl cooling in his still hand. Yes, together they had been stronger and faster. And that meant…

"Internal ki usage to strengthen the body," he said out loud.

'Yes,' the spirit whispered, clearly pleased.

Kenshin began to smile. Because that meant they had cracked it. Three years of trying and they had finally figured it out – the trick on how to use the ki for speed, for higher jumps, for strength that all the advanced strikes of Hiten Mitsurugi demanded. The trick that he had been so desperate to learn, that he had kept failing to grasp.

Even though all three of them had been trying to figure it out, Master with his lectures that didn't make any sense, him trying and constantly failing and the spirit always helping, but not knowing anything more than Kenshin himself.

And now, this was it. The trick was to flow through the wall.

So, how to do it again?

The spirit nudged him happily.

Yes, that makes sense. We need to do it together.

The next few days passed quickly as Kenshin and the spirit experimented. They both remembered how tired it had made them when Kenta ended up fully on his side of the wall and it had hurt. So, they tried to learn the trick to get the spirit to flow through the wall and back in small doses.

And it was anything but easy.

However, they were determined and they both wanted it so bad.

The great breakthrough came a week after the initial realization. Kenta had managed to push against the cracks of the wall in just the right way and started to slip through. But it immediately stopped pushing and just flowed.

And only some coldness made through.

'Now. Try to do it now,' Kenta urged.

Kenshin jumped.

Oh wow, I have never jumped this high!

He had to be at least seven feet in the air, before he glanced down and—

"Aaaaah!"

Dropped.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Kenta retreated.

Kenshin panted, tried to control the pain, and rubbed his legs. Nothing was twisted. Thank the gods, but still his legs smarted badly from the high fall.

Ow.

But it had worked!

'Yes!' Kenta cheered.

Kenshin smiled triumphantly.

Now, let's do it again.


Kenshin lay on the ground, panting and staring at the clouds. It was exhausting to use the ki internally – mere moments of channeling ki into his body and he would be completely wiped out. But it seemed that now that they had figured it out, it really did work. And it worked with everything: he could run fast, draw the sword fast, strike fast and jump high.

And when he had tried to cut a tree out of curiosity, the blade had sliced clean through! Just like Master's strikes!

It was like Master had said: using ki internally really made it possible to do the impossible moves that Hiten Mitsurugi demanded.

But it was hard to keep it up and the control, well, Kenta tried to control how much it pushed but it didn't always manage to slip the right amount of ki to Kenshin's side. So occasionally the spirit pushed too much, and sometimes too little. And there seemed to be a limit of how much they could use before starting to tire out.

And to make it harder, it took time for the spirit to concentrate just so. Kenta had explained that the cracks in the wall were hard to figure out. Kenshin had suggested of trying the same through the hole in the wall, but spirit thought that it wouldn't work. It would make the trickle of ki like an arrow when it needed to be spread out like a rainfall, to gently and widely touch Kenshin's side.

It made sense.

They still needed to figure out a way to do it faster. It wouldn't help much in fight if they needed to stop to concentrate before doing it.

But right now, everything was great.

Maybe now they could convince Master to show the special moves of Hiten Mitsurugi. They had so wanted to get to practice those, especially after they had managed to sneak a peek at Master's private training. It had looked so cool to see it.

Speaking of Master, they would need to show the swordsman that they had realized the trick! Maybe they could surprise him? Master would be stunned. Maybe even proud! Maybe this would erase the constant frown and quiet disappointment the older man had had on his face since the summer's catastrophe?

If nothing else, Master had always wanted him to succeed with ki.

And maybe Kenshin wasn't such a big disappointment now that he had figured out the ki – after all, the spiritual energy was apparently something most people never learned because it was "extremely difficult and dangerous to use."

Actually, hadn't Master made him promise to never practice with ki outside his supervision, just because it was so dangerous all those years back?

Uh oh…

"Oops."


Hiko had decided to head out to Hagi for the kid's katana. The town was a focus point for Choshuu samurai and there were some decently capable swordsmiths in the city. And besides, he could check out with Kawase-san about his poems. He was low on funds, and if Kawase-san wasn't willing to pay him… Well, he would need to find a job to gather enough money for buying a sword.

Fortunately, Kawase-san was glad to continue their profitable relationship and was willing to pay in advance, yet again. Hiko gave the publisher what he had written out during the season, and agreed to deliver more poems when he had them.

With the money in hand, he headed in search of a smith. It wasn't exactly ideal to look for a sword for someone who was still growing and wasn't with you to test it, but Hiko knew his apprentice better than most and was determined that he could find a suitable blade for the boy.

Unfortunately, though there were many smiths in city and they all had swords to sale, none of the blades were suitable for a goddamn tiny kid, who was training for agility and speed. No, most of the blades were made for tall and heavy men; sturdy, practical, made to weather the wear and tear. Good blades, but they lacked the finesse that was needed.

And the better blades? Expensive, decorative and still way too long. It was an annoying dilemma. Kenshin was just too delicately built for the common ware.

Besides, a swordsman's blade was his heart and soul. He wouldn't want to buy the kid a weapon that wasn't good enough. After all, he had his Winter Moon. How could he give the boy anything less? Hiko had seen the joy on the Kenshin's face when trying out the Winter Moon – and the disappointment when he had to give it back.

So, the only option was to order custom work. Thankfully, Hiko found a smith that was willing and seemed enthusiastic about the challenge. A delicate katana – a proper sword, but still short enough to be controllable for a small man to use one-handed when needed. The folded steel would have to be crafted thin, fitting for fast strikes. The handguard would be simple. A true swordsman didn't need pretty craftsmanship and of course the scabbard should be of iron, practical solution and capable to be used as a secondary weapon in a pinch. Yes, Hiko was a Master and he knew his apprentice. He knew exactly what would be a good blade for the boy.

It took two weeks for the smith to craft the blade alongside the usual orders. Hiko spent the time writing poetry, planning for the winter, listing what supplies would be needed and keeping an ear out for the rumors. It seemed that the incident had raised hell in Settsu and surrounding provinces. It had also made the "Sonno Joi" fanatics stir the chaos here in Hagi, the heart of Choshuu.

Kenshin had had some problems with the sort on their earlier visits, but it hadn't been so bad. Now, it seemed like he couldn't even dream of letting the boy leave the mountain before the situation calmed down.

Not that he intended to.

Truthfully, Hiko wasn't entirely happy with the boy's actions during the summer fiasco. But then again, the whole incident had happened because he had let the boy out of his sight.

A man hunting for two hares won't catch either one.

The old saying struck too close to home. Hiko had taken to his duty to the principles of Hiten Mitsurugi and tried to train out his student.

A student's mistake can always be traced to the Master.

Hiko sighed before scoffing.

It figures.

Well, he was a Master and a master's first duty was always to his apprentice. He could attend to his duty to the principles once again when the situation calmed down, however long that would take.

A couple of weeks later, Hiko returned to the cabin in relatively good spirits. He had bought enough supplies to last them throughout the winter and he was satisfied with the boy's Katana. To his displeasure, he found his apprentice lying on the ground, lost again in his head.

He couldn't help letting out a disdainful scoff. He still didn't care for the habit, but…

"Master!"

…it wasn't like the kid could be ambushed anymore. Kenshin would feel his presence a mile away, even when he was hiding it.

"Catch."

The boy's face lit up like a beacon.

That smile will melt the hearts of ladies in the future, Hiko noted. Kenshin was growing up to be a fine looking lad. Well, as long as people were able to look past the unnatural red hair, too pale skin and winter pale eyes.

"It's perfect. Thank you, Master," Kenshin said and bowed.

At least the boy's manners had improved.

"Try it out. Learn to feel the blade. We will spar tomorrow."

With that, Hiko turned around and returned to store the supplies. Behind him, he could feel and hear the boy going at it.

He smiled a bit.

No, he wasn't happy with the boy's lack of good sense and failure to judge the situation. But he couldn't blame the boy for it, either.

After all, Kenshin was his apprentice.


The katana was beautiful and it felt perfect.

However, now was not the moment to admire the blade, Kenshin reminded himself as he circled around Master, trying to figure out a way to attack him. Master's defensive stance was perfect, if not for the slight opening near his left side.

It was a trap.

Kenshin knew it all too well. Sometimes Master would bait him by leaving a hint of a weak spot for him to attack, to see if he could force the opportunity into something more. It was frustrating. Because no matter how hard he always tried, never once had he succeeded.

How sweet would it be to surprise Master and to score a hit? Even just once?

Kenta nudged at him.

'Not now,' Kenshin thought back and scowled.

Kenta had been of the opinion that they should try to surprise Master with the internal ki-trick while sparring. Kenshin didn't agree. Sure, it would be sweet to score a hit. But to use it in sparring? Master would immediately know that they practiced it before and saved the trick for that.

Master would be furious.

But Kenshin hadn't found the courage yet to confess. To be truthful, he did know any good way to tell Master of his discovery and the subsequent training.

But maybe there simply was no good way to tell Master that he had defied his orders. And that opening in Master's defense… If he tapped in the ki that Kenta was so readily pushing at him, he could sprint and definitely score a hit.

Master would never see it coming.

If there was no good way to confess, would it matter if he took the chance? It wasn't like Master could get any angrier at him for it.

'Yes, let's do it!' Kenta urged at him.


Kenshin was smirking at him, but he hadn't yet noticed the tiny the opening in his stance. Unusual. Normally the boy was faster at spotting them than this.

What is he planning? Hiko frowned.

Well, at least that katana had been a right thing to buy. It suited the boy well and had polished the boy's stance to perfect again. It really was a pity the kid hadn't yet figured out more of the ki-usage. Hiko had been wishing to get started with Hiten Mitsurugi's special attacks for quite a while. After all, he hadn't been able to introduce anything new to the boy for nearly a year and keeping the training sessions fresh was almost impossible.

No matter how he had attempted to explain the ki to the kid, nothing had seemed to make any difference. With the instinctive usage of ki, the skills that required fine touch like sensing, tracking and masking, Kenshin had taken to like fish taught how to swim. And the impossible way he had managed to enhance his hearing all those years ago?

No, there was simply no logical reason why they had this problem.

Hiko truly didn't understand what the issue was. After all this time, the best he could figure was that Kenshin understood the swordspirit in a completely different and almost backwards way compared to everyone else. He had tried to get the kid to explain his way of thinking a few times. But whenever Kenshin described his way to handle ki, it was like listening to a foreign prose: the words were there but the language, rhythm even the form was completely off. It just didn't make any sense in a way that the civilized people understood it. So Hiko had decided to let the kid try to figure it out alone.

Before him, the boy had paused, his head lost in the clouds again.

Now?

Hiko scowled. Time to break it off! And to show the kid why idiocy like that simply wasn't done in a spar. However, before he could land an attack, the boy focused and seemed to blink out of sight.

Fuck!

There, movement on the left, Hiko raised his sword for a common block.

Clang.

Again, from the right.

He parried on reflex, only to see a small blurred figure come at him again and without pausing to think twice, he kicked it.

The kid rolled away and hit the ground hard.

Hiko took a breath, trying to calm down his racing heart. What the hell had that been?! For a second, it had been like fighting the old Bastard! But even the 12th Master had never been fast enough to blur out of sight!

In that brief moment, he honestly hadn't seen it coming, hadn't had time to think, and only had barely enough time to react.

The kid was grinning at him triumphantly, like he had won something.

Hiko frowned. "You figured it out."


Master was scowling at him, but he didn't seem angry, yet.

Oh, but the stunned look on Master's face was worth every bit of pain and tongue lashing to come, and Kenshin couldn't contain his grin.

The spirit seemed smug, too.

"Yes. While you were away, I realized it," he confessed. It didn't matter anymore. He had gotten what he wanted – not a hit, but just that surprised look was worth it.

"Huh. And you decided to practice this without my supervision?"

"I didn't think about it. I had been trying to figure it out for so long… So when I realized what was needed, I just couldn't help myself."

"Couldn't help yourself? Hmmmph. Clearly you did."

A bit ashamed, Kenshin looked away, shuffling his feet. Master's words had a bite to them and it was true that he had disobeyed a direct order. Not to mention of doing it now, right after causing all that trouble last summer.

The victorious feeling turned sour on his tongue. What did his success and discovery matter when he had once again disappointed Master?

A scoff.

"Idiot student."

Steps.

Master had turned around and was walking away.

Kenshin felt like his feet would drop out from under him at any moment, and he begun shaking. Oh no, no, no.

But then, Master stopped and said, "Go ahead and practice, then. Clearly, you don't need my help."

This is… this is it? Kenshin swallowed. Master isn't going to teach me anymore?

"But come back inside for dinner. We can discuss it better then. And plan what we will be doing with your training in the future."

Kenshin exhaled.

Thank god.

A relieved smile formed on his lips.

Master forgave me.

"Yes, Master!"


AN: A belligerent teenager Kenshin is a doll. 3 But I do feel for Hiko...
By the way, the whole burning village arc was born when I got into thinking of what would be a realistic and believable cause for an eleven year old boy to wet the bed.

Edited first by Chie in 2014, then again 20.03.2016 by BelovedStranger.