RK: Look, I finally updated! YAY! ME! Sorry it's taken so long….i got a little sidetracked….hehe…..Anyway, before my muse tells you exactly how I got sidetracked, here is the disclaimer!
Disclaimer: Despite fondest wishes and dreams, I do not own Rurouni Kenshin…unfortunately….i don't have enough money to buy him…YET!
RK: so, now on with the story! Reviewers at the end! Oh, and I enabled the anonymous reviews….I figured out how..hehe….
Kendo Practice and Memories
Kenshin was becoming a well known celebrity. Girls were coming up to the short teen, asking for dates or favors from the 'kid who could do anything.' Kenshin was becoming more confused and a lot more hassled then he had ever been. Every girl he turned down seemed to produce two more.
"GOD! SOMEONE HELP!" Kenshin exclaimed, exasperated, as they stumbled into English class. Sano and Megumi were laughing at the teen's misfortune, while Kaoru was glaring out at the girls for some unknown reason.
"Man, you sure got popular in a short amount of time. Only your second day here, and all the girls are already after you! Better watch out mate." Sano clapped the boy on the shoulders, sending him hurtling face first into the desks. "Oops, sorry." Sano rubbed a hand on the back of his head, face apologetic.
"No damage done, honestly. Now, let's go sit down." The four of them made their way to the back of the class and sat, shoving bags under desks. Mrs. Yumi stood up after the bell rang and held her hand up by the board, hovering there for just a second before dropping.
"Well, about last night's homework. I am going to choose a few people to read theirs out loud. Any volunteers?" No one raised their hand. The teacher sighed. "Well then, I'm just going to have to pick a few of you out myself." She picked up her roster and pointed to a random name. A very interesting name. "Kenshin Himura." Kenshin's eyes went wide. Why was everything happening to him? It just wasn't fair. When the teacher only stared at him, he sighed and took his paper out of the bag. Standing, with said homework assignment in hand, he began to read,
"The stars were out, the moon high in the night sky. A boy was in the shadows, waiting for his prey. His dress was that of a traditional Japanese gi, and a sword rested at his hip. His eyes were embers, glinting in the night, glowing with an inner fire. He waited, this fourteen year old child, for the man he was to kill.
Sonny Hatami came into view, surrounded by a few trusted men. He was a biochemical weapons engineer. It had been confirmed that he was done with a new, more powerful weapon. The government wanted it, but he wouldn't give it to them, intent on selling it to a terrorist group in exchange for millions. All that their little assassin wanted to know was that he was to be killed, not the reasons. He didn't have much say in who he was to kill anyway. Then Sonny Hatami walked in front of the young teen.
"I have no personal grudge against you, but you must die for the sake of the government" the boy said quietly, stepping from the shadows.
"Who is this kid?" Sonny asked, turning to the nearest of the four men. He shrugged.
"Maybe he's some kid who thinks he's all that." A man on the far side of the teen said.
"I am known as Hitokiri Battosai. You will all die here tonight." Then he disappeared. A flash of silver later, the young hitokiri reappeared, two men falling to the ground, his sword in his hand, dripping blood. Sonny backed away, face full of terror. The two men remaining jumped in front of him pulling their gun out and pointing them shakily at the child.
"How can he do that? He's just a kid for god's sake." Sonny whispered, horrified by the child assassin in front of him. "Has the government stooped so low as to use children to kill?" The boy's amber eyes landed on him, and Sonny gulped at the anger and blood lust in them. This child was different.
The child disappeared, just as the guns were fired. He reappeared behind Sonny. The man turned in time to see tears slip down his face. He left the world at a child's hands, knowing that this teenage assassin was still just that, a child.
"Mr. Hatami!" One of the remaining men cried out. Then the gun was knocked from his hands. As the sword arced high over his head, he fumbled for the knife at his belt. The sword started on its decent, and the knife flashed out.
The guard fell, cut from head to toe. The boy held a hand to his cheek, where a wound bled sluggishly. He turned to the last guard, and killed him. Then he sheathed his sword, picked up the knife and left, leaving the bodies behind him, taking memories, and that knife. With a hand to his bleeding cheek, he walked away, into the shadows once again, the implement of his wound held tightly in his hand.
The whole room was hushed as Kenshin read, his voice filled with emotion. Sano, who had read it before, was amazed at the difference reading silently and reading out loud could do to the story. It sounded like it had really happened, and that Kenshin had been there to witness the whole thing. And the teen's voice. That voice was just so strange.
Everyone was silent for a moment, then they began to clap, applauding Kenshin, amazed at his knack for storytelling.
"HEY Himura! Awesome story!" One kid yelled, his face invisible. Kenshin sighed. If only they knew the truth. Then they might not be so amazed. Mrs. Yumi approached him, holding her hand out for the paper. Kenshin handed it to her reluctantly. She stared at it with wide eyes, then at him. Kenshin just remained staring blankly off into the distance.
With the paper clutched in her grasp, Mrs. Yumi turned to her desk. While she called off other names from the roster, Kenshin's paper held tightly in her grasp the whole time, her mind was flashing to the teen's paper. The whole incident sounded familiar, like it had been on the news, with the exact same details that Kenshin Himura had written. She listened with only half an ear to the rest of the reports.
After she had collected them all and sent her students off with vocabulary homework, (she forgot to hand out the papers for this, and the students conveniently forgot to tell her) she sat down at her desk and picked up the red-head's. She looked hard at it, looking for anything at all, for any little detail that jogged a memory. She found what she was looking for in the last paragraph.
'The guard fell, cut from head to toe. The boy held a hand to his cheek, where a wound bled sluggishly. He turned to the last guard, and killed him. Then he sheathed his sword, picked up the knife and left, leaving the bodies behind him, taking memories, and that knife. With a hand to his bleeding cheek, he walked away, into the shadows once again, the implement of his wound held tightly in his hand.'
"Aha! That's why it sounded so familiar. The sword attack, cutting the guard in half completely, a well known technique used by the Battosai. And the name too….." She flipped open the laptop and clicked on the internet. She would find out the truth.
Typing in 'Sonny Hatami', she did a Google search. And sure enough, Sonny Hatami was a well documented case, one of those killed by the Battosai. As the teacher lined up the report given to her by the student and the police report, she noticed a parallel between the two.
Actually, she noticed, that for one fact, they were exactly the same. All four guards had been killed, Sonny Hatami had been found dead likewise, and there was evidence that a knife had been taken from the scene. The only thing that didn't match up was the age of the assassin. In the police report, they had him at around late twenties, to have the strength required to cut a man in two. In the essay, the battosai was only a child, still fourteen years old. Yumi had no idea which was correct, but the odd parallels had her wondering from what source this Kenshin Himura had gotten his information from. She had access to some more of the classified pages, but Kenshin couldn't have. She had special permission.
While the teacher pondered this problem, the teen in question was currently sitting in the lunch room, joking with his friends and talking animatedly about random topics. At the moment, it was swords.
"But Kaoru, swords were used for killing in Japan's old days. Why are there two different styles of swordsmanship?" Sano asked, his face puzzled. Kaoru sighed. She had explained this to him before, but Sano was hopeless. He really was. But before Kaoru could explain yet again, Kenshin started answering.
"Because, if all the sword styles taught now would be Satsujin-ken, then how many people would know how to kill someone else? Katsujin-ken was developed specifically to avoid killing people, and those who learn it also learn how to protect. For instance, Miss Kaoru here teaches Katsujin-ken, a sword designed to conquer, not kill. But say, for instance, if she taught Satsujin-ken. How many little kids could go home and boast that they learned a way to kill someone? And how many students would be left?" Sano rubbed his head thoughtfully.
"I see, so one is used for killing, but if that was taught, there might be a ton of little Hitokiri Battosais running around. Right?" Kenshin spit out the soda he had been drinking all over the table.
"Uh, sorry?" Kenshin offered apologetically when Megumi and Kaoru turned to glare at him. "Well, yes, that's one way to put it….." Kenshin replied to Sano' question, cleaning up the mess with a few napkins. He didn't think Sano realized the extent of his wordplay. Well, no harm, no foul, as the old saying goes.
The rest of the day proved to be mostly uneventful, due to the fact that more then a few people had dropped Hiko's class after the first day. Hiko hadn't been surprised. To make the garden grow, you need to pull a few weeds. As the bell rang on the last class, Kenshin gathered up his things, and his bag hit the table with a CLANG. He winced, and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. The only other person in the room was Sano who looked at him as if he was mental.
"You coming Kenshin!" He yelled back, and Kenshin nodded. He was safe for now. As the six of them walked home, Misao bouncing and giggling, Kenshin was silent. He was too busy thinking over the day to worry about running into someone.
"Hey, Kenshin. I have a question." The red head turned to Sano. The taller teen looked hesitant, almost shying away from the query. "Well, yesterday, in PE. What were all those scars from?" Kenshin breathed a sigh of relief. He thought Sano was going to ask what he was doing that night with a sword in hand.
"Well, this one got them when he was young. This one learned things the hard way, if you want to get technical. This one's…..teacher….was strict, and adhering to his rules was like trying to make flies come to vinegar. So, most of them were received out of sheer stupidity." Kenshin said, shrugging off Sano's look of sympathy. He had learned to live with them for a long time, and he highly doubted that they would be going away any time soon.
Walking into the house he now lived in, Kenshin breathed a sigh of relief. He had gotten through the day with only a few scrapes. Now, it was time for homework. He walked up the stairs and into his room. Setting the bag down on his desk, he carefully locked the door before opening it. Slowly, he pulled the sword from the bottom, carefully leaning it on his bed, within easy reach should he need it. Then he began to pull out the day's homework. Sitting on the floor, next to the sword that he built his life around, he took a look at the math problems Mr. Hoji had assigned him.
'Math. I hate math. Why is it a subject anyway? It should be outlawed from schools worldwide.' Kenshin thought grumpily, his hand hovering over the paper. 'Yeah, but if they abolished math, you wouldn't know your age, not that you actually TELL anyone your age, you wouldn't know the day of the week, the month, the numbers...' Voice trailed on. 'Will you shut up? I know that already, jeez. Bye bye now.' Kenshin shut the door on his other voice, slowly trapping the annoying pest inside. 'Ah, finally, some peace and quite.' Someone knock on the door. 'Knew I spoke to soon.' Kenshin grumbled, but stood, up, shoved the sword under his bed, and went to open the door.
It was Sanosuke. "Hey, old buddy, old pal, old friend! How are you?" Sano asked, a cheerful expression plastered on his face. Kenshin sighed.
"What do you want?" he asked, preparing for the worst. Sano's face fell. He shuffled in, past Kenshin, and took a seat on the floor, dropping his bag .
"Kaoru wants me to put on pads and be a target for the kids in the dojo later today. She says it's because I come over here to eat all the time, and it's time I do something for her. But do you know how hard those kids hit?" Sano complained, his voice tinged with a whine. Kenshin chuckled.
"Fine, fine, this one will help you out, but only if you promise him one thing." Sano sat up, head pointing at Kenshin.
"Anything." He breathed. Kenshin smirked. "This one will only help you out if you promise to help THIS ONE with math. This one sucks at it." Kenshin hung his head at Sano's laughter.
"That's it? Sure, why not! And besides, math's an easy subject. Not to hard, very straight forward. You know, the way you jump around in PE, I'd think you would be great in math. Well, anyway, let's head downstairs, before Kaoru gets mad and comes looking for me. We'll do homework after." Sano started out the door.
"But, this one thought you said her class was in a little bit!" Kenshin exclaimed, running after the brown haired teen.
"Um…oops?" Sano offered, turning. Kenshin hit him upside the head. They walked down the stairs together and trudged out to the dojo.
"Ah! There you are Sano! And I see you got Kenshin to come along as well. How interesting. Well, you two get suited up while I get these six warmed up." Along with Yahiko, there were five others, three boys and two girls. One of the boys looked to be around Yahiko's age, and was next to Yahiko in strength. One of the girls was only a year or so younger then the little squirt that was practicing so hard. Kenshin smiled. These six would bring some greatness to swordsman ship. And they wouldn't do it by killing.
The two boys roughly pulled on the gear, then walked out awkwardly to the main room. Kaoru had the kids lined up, Yahiko, and the two older ones in one line, while the three younger children where in their own line. Sano immediately to the one with the three small kids, which left Kenshin in the one with the three older ones. Kaoru raised her hand.
"START!" Yahiko lunged at Kenshin. POW! Direct hit. Kenshin stood his ground and weathered the rather weak attack, not that he said anything. Next in line was the other boy.
"What's your name?" Kenshin asked. The boy looked at him.
"Yutaro. Get ready. I'm not weak like that shrimp over there." He nodded his head at Yahiko, whose ears started pouring steam.
"I'LL GET YOU FOR THAT YOU LITTLE CAT EYED FREAK!" Yahiko yelled. Yutaro grew furious.
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?" He yelled back. Kenshin boldly stepped in the middle, and ended getting whacked upside the head on both sides. He fell to the ground, eyes swirling. The two boys looked at him. "Oops." They said simultaneously. Kenshin moaned. "Ow. That hurt." He got back to his feet. "Ok, let's try that again. Yutaro, it's your turn." Yutaro tightened his grip on the shinai, then lunged at Kenshin. Once again, the teen weathered the attack. It wasn't much stronger then Yahiko's anyway.
"Ok, one more. What's your name?" Kenshin turned to the girl. She lifted her head, brown eyes shining with an inner fire. "My name is Tae, sir." She said, her voice accented slightly. She lifted the bokato the students practiced with, and flew at Kenshin. Her attack was rather weak, but it held a lot of potential. They went through the line a few more times, then after they were done, Kenshin turned to the front and faced Kaoru, who was watching the three younger students.
"Miss Kaoru, we are done." Kenshin said, ready to take the hot gear off. Kaoru looked over at them.
"Ok, go ahead and take that gear off, then go take a shower, before you start to smell. Keep up the good work kids! And the three of you," she pointed at Yahiko, Tae, and Yutaro, "You keep practicing." She left them to it while Kenshin went gratefully to take the hot pads off. Then he headed straight for the shower.
Later that night, after everyone had finished and the dojo had been cleaned, the four teens sat in the living room, TV on and homework in their laps. Yahiko had turned to Kenshin, and began to ask him questions on the packet that Hiko gave them. When Kenshin answered him with the correct ones, he blinked.
"Hey, Kenshin, how do you know this when you haven't even done the packet?" Yahiko asked. Kenshin lifted said packet off the ground beside him and tossed it at the boy, who quickly flipped through it until he reached the answers. He stared.
"When did you do this?" He asked, his face blank. "You're already finished? When?" Sano looked over and snatched the paper from Yahiko.
"What do you mean, he's already done with it?" Sano glanced down, then took a second look. "Wow, he is already done. When? We're still working on it." Kenshin shrugged.
"This one finished that in class." Then he gathered all his papers and headed up the stairs. "This one is going to bed now. Sano, you might want to get your stuff."
"Oh, yeah, right. Coming." Sano got to his feet and followed Kenshin up the stairs. When they got to the top and stopped at Kenshin's open door, Sano remembered something. "Kenshin? What was that note you had yesterday? It seemed rather important." Kenshin looked decidedly guilty, as if he were trying to hide something from the other teen.
"It was nothing special. Just some stupid note one received. Nothing important. This one swears!" Kenshin held up his hands, palms out. Sano didn't believe him, but decided not to poke his nose where it didn't belong. He thanked the boy for letting him get his stuff, then left Kenshin to his own devices.
Kenshin sat heavily on the bed, then reached under it and pulled out the sword. Unsheathing it, he held it out, blade side pointing towards him. The blade itself was reversed, and could only kill if he turned it. He had had this sword for a number of years. It had been given to him by a master sword smith in Japan, when he had lived there for a couple months or so, on a mission for the American government. The irony was that, despite his appearance, he was Japanese.
His family had left after the collapse of the Tokugawa Bakufu. A family of master swordsmen didn't really have much of a chance during the Meji era, so they left for the Promised Land and continued teaching the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu style in the family alone. Kenshin's only family, besides Hiko, who was a distant uncle of some sort, had died in a plane crash, of which Kenshin had been the only survivor.
The only reason he had survived in the first place was because his mother had covered him with her body, along with blankets and pillows, which not only protected Kenshin from the shrapnel, but softened the impact just enough for Kenshin to survive with minimal injuries. He had been given to his uncle, who had expanded on the basics of the style that his parents had started to teach him.
Remembering gave Kenshin the chills. He remembered in perfect detail all that had happened on that horrible crash. The sound of the plane exploding as his mother pushed him out the nearest window. And the blood. The blood from the bodies that had been shredded to pieces.
The plane began a sharp descent and the pilot's voice came over the intercom. 'We have a slight problem. Please get into the crash position and brace for a hard landing.' The whole cabin was in an uproar. Babies were crying, adults were shouting, and, as the little red headed child listened, his mother gathered him up safely in her arms.
'Shinta, sweetie, wrap yourself in these. Please, for mommy?' The little boy looked up at his mother, large indigo eyes wide. He nodded his head seriously, and pulled the multitude of blankets around his small body. Then his mother wrapped her arms around him, pillows lining her limbs, and covered her small son with her body. She knew the plane was going to crash. All she wanted to do was save her only child. The last Himura in the family.
The plane went into a sharp nose dive, and Shinta was jostled in his mother's arms. His father enclosed the both of them, and they waited, this small family, for the hope that their child would survive. Shinta tried to remain as still as possible, and as quiet. Then the quietness was gone, replaced by the screams of people, of many people. A large BOOM reverberated around the cabin, and flames began to make themselves known to the small boy. He twisted, climbing out of the protective cocoon, and found his mother and father, bloody from gashes and pieces of the airplane sticking into them. Shinta gasped, his small body shaking, his eyes wider then normal. He could feel a sharp pain wrapping around his body, from his shoulder to his thigh. Some blood began to soak into his clothes, most from his parents, some from his wound.
'Sh...in...ta' His mother whispered. He leaned close to hear what she was saying. 'You…must...save...yourself…we…did all we…could…' she began to cough, blood dribbling out of the side of her mouth, strange amber eyes closing. 'remember…always…Shinta…we loved you…but…now…your name is Kenshin…now…your….true name….is Kenshin Himura' Then she died, her hands pushing the little boy out of the broken window. She died in her husbands arms, protecting her only child from death. Kenshin, as his new name was, began to cry, walking out of the airplane that was ripped to shreds, looking for any survivors. All he saw were bodies torn into pieces, burning, bleeding, and he began to cry even more.
The moment he stepped out of the wreck, he felt a large swell in the amount of energy coming from the plane. He began to run, tripping over pieces of the plane that had flown off during the crash. He was a hundred feet away when the wreck exploded, going up in flames, and taking the bodies of over two hundred with it. The only survivor was a small boy, watching with tears streaming down his cheeks, and his mind blank.
When the police finally got to the remote place the plane had crashed, and it had taken a while because most of the helicopters were being repaired, so all that was left were trucks, they found a little boy, standing in front of hundreds of crosses, small ones, big ones, lopsided ones, and two stones, placed side by side. They stood in shock and awe at this child who had made hundreds of graves for the dead. His hands were black and his clothes were stained with blood. For a moment, they couldn't move, they were so touched by the scene in front of them that all they could do was stare. Finally, one officer dared approach the little boy, hands patting the child on the back. When he turned to face him, his eyes were wide, and a strange indigo color. When you got close enough, you could see the amber flecks in them. His hair was probably originally red, but was so filthy that it was hard to tell. But his face. His face was blank, devoid of emotion.
'What's your name, young man?' the officer asked kindly. The boy looked at him for a moment.
'My name was Shinta Himura, but now it is Kenshin Himura. That is what my mom told me before she died. She died.' Those words seemed an absolute to him.
'Who are these for?' the officer asked kindly, waving his hand around them, around the graves.
'They are for those who died on the plane. All two hundred seventy four. I was the two hundred and seventy fifth. All the adults, the children, the babies. They are all here. I had to do something for them. I just had to. They all died, and I didn't.' The little boy, Kenshin, had silent tears running down his face, blank though it may be. To say the officer was shocked might be an understatement. To say he was dazed and stunned might come closer to his actual feelings. This child, who looked like he might have been seven or eight ears old, had made graves for everyone on the plane, complete with crosses and flowers. Then the officer pointed at the stones.
'Who is there?' He asked. He little boy didn't answer for a moment, then he looked directly into the man's face. The adult was surprised at the emotion in his eyes.
'They are my parents. They died to let me live. My mom covered my body with hers, wrapping me in blankets to protect me. It was the best I could do for them.' The officer looked at the ground and saw 'Mom' and 'Dad' written in the soil. His eyes began to water, and he took off his hat. The rest of the officers followed suit, amazed at this child's insight and knowledge. The fact that he survived with minimal injuries was a feat in itself, and it was even more amazing that he had done this in the three hours it had taken for the police and fire department to find the place where the plane had crashed.
The fire department pulled up at that moment, and when they started out with the hoses, one of the officers stopped them and began to explain why there were crosses in the ground, why most of the police were silently crying, and why a little boy was standing, filthy dirty, in front of them. When they too understood, they all stood in shock at the child, not comprehending that this child had buried the bodies of hundreds in three hours. They just stood there, the wreckage only smoldering, having burned itself out hours ago, and watched as the many policemen who were there bend down on one knee, giving prayers for the dead. The firefighters followed suit.
Later on that same week, when all the members of the families who had been killed were alerted and told to go to the scene of the accident, they could not have been more surprised. They saw the same little boy, clean and bandaged now, standing once again in front of the graves, just standing there and staring. When one person asked why the boy was beyond the police tape, they got this reply.
'He was the only survivor, and buried all the bodies of the dead, every single last one of them, beneath those crosses. He's only eight years old too.' This was said in awe, as if the officer was still in a state of shock.
'How do you know that?' The same person asked. The officer looked at him.
'Because, I was the first one to speak to him after we got here. He was filthy dirty, covered head to toe in blood, little hands covered in soil and ashes from the graves he dug and from the bodies he buried there, and because those two stone are his mother and father. He did all this, because he was the only survivor, and everyone else died. That's what he said.' The man was amazed. This small child had buried his children, grandchildren, and wife? And then honored them by placing a cross on their graves.
'May I go speak to him? I would like to thank him.' The officer nodded. The man went across the police tape and walked up to Kenshin. 'What's your name, son?' The man asked gently. The little boy looked up at him, indigo eyes bright with unshed tears. The man took the little boy in his arms and held him as he cried, cried for the dead and those left. It was the first time that any of the officers or fire fighters had seen him cry.
'I'm sorry sir. My name was Shinta, but my mom said my real name was Kenshin right before she died. She protected me.' The man smiled.
'That's ok. My name is Mr. Yukishiro. Thank you for doing this. Two of my children and their children were on the plane, along with my wife. I think that my two other children and my two grandkids will be happy. Thank you so much for doing this for them.' Kenshin smiled a watery smile. Then he went back to staring at the graves. Slowly, little by little, others came to him and expressed their thanks and prayed for the dead. Later on that same day, the little boy disappeared, and was never seen, nor heard from, again. Where he went was a mystery, but many were eternally grateful to him. From that day on, the area was marked as an honorable cemetery, dedicated to those who had died, and to the little boy whose name none but the first officer and Mr. Yukishiro even remembered. They never told anyone his name, for they knew the child's need for privacy. The only thing that reminded visitors that a child did this was a sculpture of the boy, standing over the graves in the middle of the cemetery. His eyes were wide, and his hair was pulled back into the pony tail that Kenshin had worn. On the base were the words:
'To the child who
survived and dedicated
these people in such
an honorable way.
We are eternally grateful.'
At the front of the boy-statue's feet were two stones, with the words 'MOM' and 'DAD' carved into the ground by a child's hand.
Kenshin leaned his head back against the bed, hand closed over a now sheathed sword. He remembered that day with perfect clarity. He had gone back to that cemetery many times over the years, to remember and to honor those who had died. And when he disappeared, he had gone back to his house, over a hundred miles away, and found his distant uncle there. His uncle's name was Hiko Seijuro. And he was there to take Kenshin back to his house and teach the boy the swordsmanship that he had never received. In all actuality, he was essentially going to his uncle's house that summer, but after the crash, Hiko Seijuro came and got him. From then on, he called that man master, and was taught the ways of the ancient swordsmanship that his family was the protector of. And the name Hiko Seijuro was passed along to the next person who had mastered the whole style.
Kenshin got up and changed into his pajamas. Then he climbed into bed, switched the lamp he had turned on off, and went to sleep, the end of another hectic day coming to a close.
The rest of the week was rather bland, consisting of Kenshin cooking breakfast in the morning, Sano suddenly appearing there without an invite, them rushing out the door to school, then hanging out front until the bell rang. Classes were usually just going over the basics, and the only classes of interest were PE and Hiko's class.
On Wednesday, Kenshin managed to break the world record in both pull ups and pushups. On Thursday, he did the same thing with the sit ups and shuttle run. The teacher was beginning to become accustomed to Kenshin's ability, and even tried to sign him up for the track team, as well as almost every other sport available at the school. Kenshin declined every offer graciously, though Mrs. Shurra was still determined to get him into something. On Friday, though, was the most interesting class.
"Ok, next week, we will be starting Kendo. This will be going on for the rest of the semester. For those who do not want to participate, you may get a waiver form from the office and we will have you transferred to another class. Any questions?" A dozen hands shot into the air. Kaoru and Yahiko grinned while Misao complained that she did kenpo, not kendo. Kenshin just stood there, wondering why the world was against him lately.
"Hey, cheer up. I thought you would be happy when you heard that we would be doing swords for a while. I mean, you do know at least a little of how to use one, don't you? Isn't that what you told Maekawa sensei?" Kaoru asked, looking over at the dejected red-head. He nodded, plastering a smile on is face as he walked into the locker rooms. When Kaoru was out of sight, the smile dropped. Yahiko and Sano looked over at him, concerned. Kenshin seemed awful moody, even for him.
"What's wrong Kenshin?" Yahiko asked, stating to change back in. Kenshin shrugged, taking off his own PE shirt. The scars were visible to the eye, and Sano winced. Kenshin's old master, or whatever, must have been strict as hell to have given the boy so many pretty decorations.
Later on that same day, as they were walking home from school, Kaoru turned to Kenshin. "You're still coming with me to Maekawa Sensei's dojo, right?" She asked worriedly. Kenshin smiled.
"No need to worry, Miss Kaoru, this one is going, yes." Kaoru smiled in relief. She really wanted to see how good Kenshin was, and a match against a top sword fighter like Maekawa would be a good way to tell.
As the three of them sat around the house, watching TV, reading, or just being bored, Sano came over, knocking on the door, then coming in without any other pretense.
"Hello! I'm back!" Sano said in a sing-song voice. Kenshin and Kaoru groaned. They had wanted to rest, not get interrupted and forced to play some weird game. Fortunately, Sano was being nice. All he wanted to do was watch the TV, and that gave the two other teens time to rest. It was nice to be a teenager sometimes.
RK: Yes, no cliffhanger, but wait, there will be one, eventually, I'm just not there yet….Hehe, SO, now to thank my lovely reviewers!
Someone Really Special: Thank you for Beta-ing! Appreciate it! And See, I updated!
DragonWolfStar: Thanks for the reassurance…..she's your sister? Wow, interesting piece of trivia…..Here's your update!
Starfruit-22: You are special and famous…..at least here, cause you're my reviewer! Teehee! Here's your update!
Draconic Ban-Sihde: Thanks! Here's your chapter!
Flip-Flop 108: Aw, thanks! Appreciate it! You make me feel all warm and fuzzy! Here's the next chapter!
RK: Ok, see the purple button on the left? I bet you get Pocky if you press it….POCKY! YAY!
Review….please? I bet if I get more reviews, I'll update faster…..