Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Rurouni Kenshin. In fact, I DIS claim it.

I am leaving for Japan in about six hours. I was so happy I managed to post this. However, because of the time constrain, I opted not to have it beta-ed in favor of posting it before I left. So there may be mistakes, and perhaps when I get back I'll look over it more carefully--if you see a mistake, please point it out so I can fix it later!


Chapter Four

In the Hermit's Hut

It wasn't long before the shape of the land and the cut of the mountains began to seem familiar to Naruku. She knew where she was going; she just didn't want to admit it yet. Days floated by one by one until Naruku found herself at the edge of Kyoto city.

She stood on a cliff overlooking the city, looking vaguely for the places of her past.

"Come on, Makkou," she said solemnly and walked along the ledge of the cliff.

One thing she had not counted on gaining when she left Shinju's restaurant was a new traveling companion. No matter what she did, she simply could not shake this dog off. It didn't matter how far she threw that damn apple…

He always came back.

An evil thought entered Naruku's mind and she unthinkingly acted on it. Picking up the now torn up apple, she dropped it over the edge of the cliff.

Tail wagging joyfully, Makkou bounded up to the edge of the cliff, just in time to see the shiny red apple plummet down to the ground. He blinked up at Naruku as if confused, and whined softly.

And here she'd been hoping he was stupid enough to go galloping off the edge of the cliff after his toy.

"Shame," she muttered, turning away.

A sudden bark from Makkou jolted her as he streaked past her, pausing briefly to tug playfully on her sleeve with his teeth. He sprinted ahead, fast as the master of Hiten Mitsurugi himself, and Naruku was left with no choice but to caper on after him.

He had obviously spotted a rabbit or a raccoon—some kind of creature that inspired him to go running off like all of hell was chasing after him.

"Wait up you stupid, flea-bitten mongrel!" Naruku cried, winded from the effort of keeping up.

He barked loudly after whatever he was chasing, spooking all birds and other potential sources of food as he went. Naruku couldn't help feeling very annoyed with him as he led her into a wood.

She struggled to keep up, but Makkou ran on, weaving between trees whenever he saw fit.

"Stop you idiot!" Naruku yelled, leaping over a tangle of branches to stay with him.

She lost sight of the dog for a moment before she emerged through the trees into a clearing where she quickly spotted Makkou, his prey squealing and struggling between his paws.

"Dumb, mangy…I don't even know why I put up with you," Naruku muttered, dragging herself over to him. "At least you got us something to eat…"

She came up beside him with the intent to make a clean kill of Makkou's rabbit before he could rip it to shreds. She collapsed on her knees tiredly and reached for her sword when she heard the shriek of a blade as it unsheathed. She turned, startled to see a sword cut clean through the rabbit. It lay dead and Makkou moaned in dismay at the loss of his plaything.

Naruku exhaled sharply as she looked up past the hilt of the sword at the gigantic man who towered above her. She had never seen someone with so much…mass, and suddenly being confronted with this giant was a bit unnerving.

Realizing she was simply gaping, Naruku scrambled to her feet and ended up in a sort of half-bow. She hoped she didn't seem rude, or worse, like a complete dimwit. Beside her, she could hear Makkou's whimpers and snorts as he dragged his kill away from the giant-man.

"So sorry to intrude, sir, it's just, my dog, and this rabbit, and well, I didn't think—I mean, there's nothing wrong with it of course—that anyone was up here, so I didn't—"

She cut herself off when she realized this man was smirking at her. She had half a mind to ask him what the hell was so funny, but she realized the question was all too easy to answer. She was so funny. A painful sigh escaped her lips.

"What can you do?" came the deep, silk-smooth voice of the giant.

"W-what? Excuse me?" was Naruku's off-guard reply.

"What can you do?" he repeated in the same infuriatingly cool tone. "Wash dishes? Sweep? Do laundry? Cook? Pour sake?"

"I…well…all of those things, a little." Her brows came together in a look of confusion.

"Hn," he remarked. "What are you supposed to be with that sword? Assassin's wife?"

Now Naruku's confusion morphed into irritation. "Nothing. It's my father's sword."

"And what good is a sword when you don't know what to do with it?" he inquired, the smirk still prominent on his face.

"What makes you think I don't know how to use a sword?" Naruku shot back, trying her best to look fierce.

The man laughed—laughed at her, and said in the same booming voice, "Are you telling me you can, then?"

Unsure of where this was going, Naruku nodded. This giant of a man was making her a little more than uneasy…he certainly didn't seem like the mellow, albeit antisocial old man she'd had him pegged for.

Then again, Naruku thought darkly, when had she ever been any good at judging people one way or the other?

"All right then, show me."

Naruku was caught completely off-guard. "What?"

"Show me. Land one strike on me and I'll believe you," the man repeated.

"Not meaning to be rude, sir, but why should I fight an old man like you?" Naruku shot back, concerned with the smug tone of voice the man was using.

"Old man?" he smirked. "You think I'm an old man? Let me tell you who I am, twerp. I am Hiko Seijiro the thirteenth, acting master of the Hiten Mitsurugi style."

He'd said it to be impressive and intimidating, of course, but Naruku's reaction was a little more than he'd expected. She simply stood there, speechless, unable to move.

"It can't be…" she whispered. Hiten Mitsurugi was not a very widespread school, that Naruku was sure of. Could it be that this man knew her own master—Kenshin?

"Don't tell me you've never heard of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu," Hiko continued, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. "It is the sword style of many legends—one of the finest styles ever to be taught. Perhaps you've heard of Hitokiri Battousai? He himself was a student of Hiten Mitsurugi, though an ungrateful one. My baka deshi, in fact."

Naruku was floored, unable to do anything but gape stupidly at this man. Her master's master. The thought spun in her mind over and over until she felt almost physically dizzy from the shock.

Hiko, on the other hand, was quite pleased with himself. Perhaps he'd scared the girl so much she'd run off and not bother him anymore. He did have to get back to his kiln, after all…

But without meaning to, Hiko had given Naruku a reason to fight him.

He was about to wander back to his clay oven when Naruku stepped back and placed a hand coolly on the hilt of her sword.

She found her voice again and said, as calmly as she could, "I know the style you speak of. I am…a pupil of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu."

Suddenly Hiko and all of his energy were focused on Naruku. He stared at her with a cold, unreadable expression on his face. But the look pierced through her and she found herself almost unable to stand her ground.

"What did you say?" Hiko demanded.

Naruku willed herself not to look away, or take that one unconscious step back. She answered, her voice now quavering noticeably, "I am a student of Hiten Mitsurugi."

"Impossible," Hiko replied, and his whole demeanor changed. He was laughing at her again. "You lie, girl."

"I assure you, it isn't a lie, sir," Naruku responded, finding her balance and her voice a little easier. "Fight me and I'll show you."

"If you were truly a student of Hiten Mitsurugi, I would have known at a glance," Hiko answered loftily.

"Isn't it easy to underestimate a woman?" Naruku commented wryly. In a flash her sword was out, held at a threatening angle toward Hiko. Satisfaction bubbled up in Naruku as she saw a mild expression of surprise on the old man's face—he clearly had not expected her to make good on her threat.

Another thing that pleased Naruku was that he wasn't laughing anymore—that meant she'd gotten at least a little better than she'd been when she first drew her sword in Tokyo all those months ago.

"Draw your sword," she uttered commandingly to Hiko.

"And why should I?" he returned smoothly. "Fight a puny runt like you?"

Naruku blinked, somewhat in confusion, somewhat in annoyance. "Weren't you asking this 'puny runt' to fight you just a minute ago? Have you lost interest so quickly?"

It was then she realized—too late, of course—that Hiko was simply turning her words back on her. 'Old man' 'puny runt' and so it went.

Naruku lowered the tip of her sword slightly. "Fine. It doesn't matter to me if some old hermit thinks I'm a liar."

She heard only the scrape of metal on metal and before she knew it Hiko was upon her, his immense strength driving the blade of his sword downward on her.

It was by sheer luck—and quick reflexes—that Naruku did not end up cleaved in two neat pieces. Having no time to move, she threw her sword arm up in attempt to block the oncoming attack.

She felt Hiko's force lessen considerably as he made contact with her sword. The attack had not been real, merely a test, but for what Naruku wasn't quite sure.

He lowered his sword and backed off a moment later, leaving Naruku bewildered. Behind her she heard a whine and a sharp bark that told her Makkou was distressed by this apparent altercation.

"No doubts then, as to who your master is?" Hiko growled after a few moments.

Naruku shook her head slowly and lowered her own sword. "Kenshin. Your apprentice," she answered. "I would assume."

"Then you are a liar."

Whatever reaction Naruku had been expecting from the Hiten Mitsurugi master, it was not that. "What exactly do you mean by that?" she inquired waspishly. "I'm no more a liar than my mutt."

"Fool," was Hiko's callous reply. "Kenshin told me himself that he would never let another learn this style. My baka deshi, ungrateful brat that he is, even turned down the title of Hiko Seijuro the fourteenth. So forgive me if I'm a little hesitant to believe he'd teach his swordsmanship to a whelp like you."

His ill-mannered sarcasm was not well received by Naruku. Neither was the slight on Kenshin's name.

"You can hesitate all you like," Naruku returned stiffly. "It doesn't make it any less true." There was a pause, and then she added, "Why did Kenshin refuse the title of Hiko Seijuro?"

The question escaped from her before she could consider the consequences, the least of which was making Hiko believe she was simple.

"I would ask him," Hiko answered dryly. "But I suppose it would have to do with that selfish oath he made. I would assume you know all about that."

The tone was near scathing and Naruku visibly flinched. This man was simply too much to take for more than a few minutes. They weren't even fighting and she was getting clobbered by him!

"Yes," Naruku answered, trying to keep her tone calm. "But Kenshin told me he wouldn't teach me the Hiten Mitsurugi he used as a hitokiri…he said he was teaching me a different version, one that fits our purposes. A katsujin-ken Mitsurugi."

Hiko was quiet for a moment, and Naruku found herself unnaturally grateful for the silence. She could hear Makkou gnawing on one of the rabbit's bones. He had obviously lost interest in what was going on between Hiko and Naruku.

"Katsujin-ken?" the word rang out unadorned. "There is no such thing. Despite his idiotic ideals, Kenshin would never boast to teach such a thing."

"Perhaps his philosophy has changed. It has before," Naruku shot back reasonably.

"Unlikely," was the cool reply. "My baka deshi is the most stubborn man you'll ever meet. If there's one thing to be said about him, he sticks true to his beliefs. It has always been that way. He came to me wanting to help people, he left me, wanting to 'help' but not knowing how, and he came back, to learn the secrets of the Hiten Mitsurugi style, only so that he could help those in need. And you think his philosophy has changed? It hasn't, not at all; from the start it has been so. If only he has become a little less reckless, wizened to the truths of the world. But his ideals are the same as they always have been, and always will be."

Naruku stood there, thinking not that Hiko liked the sound of his own voice (though that much was clear) but how strange it was that an accidental journey up a hill had brought her careening into Kenshin's past. She would thank Makkou later for this.

"So you really believe that my swords style is a hoax," she asked flatly after a long pause.

"Not so much a hoax as a joke to the real Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu," Hiko clarified smartly.

As if she wasn't angry enough, Naruku retorted sharply, "Well I'm not laughing."

Shifting her position so that she was now in an offensive stance, Naruku repeated, "Fight me."

"Why? Because you are angry, or because you have something to prove?" Hiko asked, amused.

"Neither," she answered. 'Both' was the true answer, but she did not want to allow Hiko that satisfaction. "Because it would be a true honor to cross swords with a master of Hiten Mitsurugi."

Appealing to his ego had apparently been a smart move, for Hiko stepped forward and raised his sword again.

"I think you mean it would be a true honor to fall by the sword of a Hiten Mitsurugi master," he corrected, his features set grimly so she would have no misconceptions that he wasn't kidding.

Naruku was shocked for a moment but quickly regained her bearings. If he truly meant to kill her, she would simply stop that from happening. Somehow.

She came at Hiko, her sword raised in an almost purely offensive stance. He evaded her strike easily and came back with one of his own, one that nearly took her head off. Luckily she had momentum from whirling around and managed to block the attack before it came to her.

She aimed another strike that Hiko easily turned against her—forcing her sword down with his own. She broke their contact and jumped back.

She tottered on her too-weak legs, feeling like a newborn deer. There was a way. With the right plan, with enough agility, she could get a hit in. It didn't really matter if she won the fight—if she could hit the Hiten Mitsurugi master, she could prove to him she was for real.

She was in the air a second later, and was not too surprised to see Hiko flying up along with her, quickly passing her in height.

She resisted the temptation to close her eyes. Jumping had been an idiotic decision—Hiko may have been heavier, but he had more power to drive him upward. She was on the wrong side of this attack—below him, where he could easily strike her and gravity would do his bidding.

In a second she saw Hiko's sword descending towards her. His mouth was open in a wordless roar and for the first time since meeting him on this mountain, she was really and truly afraid.

This wasn't how she was meant to die. Not here. Not like this. She had to live—to see Kenshin, to his face again, to tell him everything and be with him. She had so much to tell him…

With one last effort, Naruku swung her sword. It didn't even come close to her opponent, but the velocity of the swing forced her falling body toward Hiko.

The tip of his blade fell past Naruku, cutting into the air where she'd been not a second before. The blade narrowly missed her, clipping a few of her hairs on the way down.

Unable to react to such an unprecedented move, Hiko fell into Naruku, knocking her away from him with his arm.

She fell—gracefully, almost—toward the hard ground below her, landing with a loud thump.

Had she been conscious, she might have heard the smack of her elbow as it hit the ground, causing a jerk-reaction to her arm. She might have noticed the odd angle her foot was at or how lucky she was that it was only the side of her head that bounced on the ground, and the back of her neck remained well-protected.

However, Naruku remained in a peaceful comatose state for quite a few minutes, blissfully unaware of her new injuries.

She awoke several minutes later to Hiko towering over her. Taking a few seconds to get her bearings straight, Naruku sat up and immediately regretted it.

"Sake to ease your pain?" Hiko suggested in a tone laced with smugness.

Naruku didn't care how haughty he was—she was in too much pain to care. "Yes, please."

With much difficulty she raised herself up and gingerly got to her feet. She was not used to being injured like this, and didn't heed her body's warning as she stood up. Pain shot up her leg like fire and Naruku gasped, falling back to the floor.

It took her several seconds to regain her voice. "It's sprained," she told him in a tight voice.

"So I see," was Hiko's answer. He glanced down at her and without another word, he swept away.

"Hey!" Naruku cried out, outraged. "Aren't you going to help me? Tend my wounds? Something! You can't just walk away!"

He didn't even bother looking back.

Furious, Naruku laid herself back down. Tears sprung to her eyes—the pain and the sense of utter aloneness seeping through her body. This was what it felt like to truly be alone. It was an odd feeling. Even Makkou was nowhere to be seen, the stupid mutt.

She thought carefully about each individual part of her body, focusing on what was hurting. She thought she might have broken her arm when she landed, it felt almost numb with pain. Her leg was definitely sprained and her head was pounding so hard that the mere thought of lifting it again was enough to make her feel woozy and faint.

"Sit up," a self-assured voice demanded.

Naruku nearly jumped in surprise—but of course, that would have hurt too much.

"I said sit up."

Groaning, Naruku struggled to do so. After positioning herself so she was leaning on her uninjured arm, she raised her eyes tiredly to Hiko's dark obsidian beads. He was kneeling beside her, holding a jug of sake and two already filled saucers in his arms.

"Why are you back?" she asked him, taking the sake dish from him and nursing it to her lips.

He took a sip of his own sake. "When I realized you couldn't walk yourself to my hut, I brought the sake to you."

Naruku nodded. She had thought he left her, to die, to be picked away by crows…but here he was again, offering her sake no less.

"I'll never understand people," she confided quietly.

Hiko almost grinned. "Why do you think I live on a secluded mountain?"

Naruku laughed appreciatively at that, but stopped when she realized it hurt her side. "Damn," she swore. "I've never gotten this many injuries from one fall."

"You were trying to beat me, and didn't put enough consideration into keeping yourself alive," Hiko told her.

"I'm still here, right?" she answered, tilting her head.

Hiko snorted condescendingly. "You think I'd kill you? And have that obnoxious baka deshi of mine come whining back to me when he realized what I'd done? No thank you."

Naruku was silent. The sake was setting in and she began to feel less connected to her pain. The throbbing and aching was all still there, she just wasn't so much a part of it anymore.

"So you believe me, then?" she spoke after a moment's silence.

"About what?" Hiko asked, smirking.

"About Hiten Mitsurugi katsujin-ken," she replied curtly.

"No," he said flatly. "It doesn't exist."

Naruku frowned. She let the matter drop, realizing there was no way she could convince Hiko. He was too arrogant, too sure in his belief. It didn't matter what one old man thought, she reminded herself. She knew, and Kenshin knew, and that was all that mattered.

"So why are you here with me?" Naruku asked. "You don't really seem like the type of man who likes…well, people."

Hiko snorted yet again. "I can appreciate a person who appreciates sake. And plus, there are some things I want to ask you."

"Before you do," she interrupted. "Know that I haven't seen Kenshin in almost a month."

"Hn," Hiko seemed put off that she had so quickly realized what he wanted. "Then you'll just have to tell me what happened before your untimely departure."

Naruku wondered for a second why Hiko wanted to know what his so called 'obnoxious' and 'stupid' ex-student was up to…maybe Hiko cared about Kenshin more than he let on.

Naruku was in no mood to tell a story, least of all one so close to her heart, but she was pleased that Hiko had brought her the pain-dulling sake, and she hadn't missed the bandages beside him that told her her wounds would be tended to before she left.

So she told him—everything she knew, starting from when she had met Kenshin to when she had left. The sake made it easier, and Hiko's passive, unending stare spurred her on until she reached the end.

Then Hiko spoke. "So Kenshin saved you from this Takeda man," he said, sounding almost skeptical.

Naruku nodded to affirm.

"And you then, in turn, saved him from Takeda's sword," Hiko went on, and Naruku nodded again.

Hiko was silent then and Naruku helped herself to more sake.

"You love him," Hiko said dully. It was not a question.

Naruku didn't bother denying it. She'd said to Kenshin himself, after all. Why did she need to hide what she felt?

"I thought I'd never understand why so many people's lives seem to totter on my baka deshi," Hiko mused. "I get it now. He saved your life, and more than that, saved you from your darkness. By telling you he was teaching you a sword that gives life. Even if the style doesn't exist, saying so saved you. And so you adored him and appreciated him and you say you love him."

Naruku frowned, hurt by Hiko's tone and his words. It was all well and good to be in doubt about her sword style, but to question her love? What right did he have? What gave him that right?

Naruku didn't say any of that. Instead, she took a breath and gathered herself to answer, "I do love him."

Hiko glanced up suddenly, the intensity of his stare surprising Naruku. "Enough to die for him?"

Naruku blinked, caught completely off-guard. "I-I…I don't—"

"Do you love him enough to die for him?" Hiko repeated.

Too many times had Hiko rendered her speechless. She summoned her courage and spoke plainly, "Is this really any of your concern?"

"Answer the question," came Hiko's arrogant answer.

"You just think you can get everything, don't you?" Naruku shot back.

"I can get everything. Anything I want, in any case," was the smug reply. "Especially information that I want."

Naruku glared, but her resolve was broken. She had found a sort of confidant in this strange hermit. "I love him enough to die for him."

"Fool," Hiko said bluntly. "You're as much of an idiot as he is."

By rights, Naruku shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. Hiko was rude and caustic and she knew that, but his words bit her harder than the blade of a sword. And once again, she had nothing to say to them.

"Now, do you love him enough to let him die for you?" Hiko asked, serious again.

"I don't understand," Naruku said quietly. But she did understand, all too well. She pursed her lips and said, just as serious, "I could never let Kenshin die for me."

Hiko made another 'hn' sound and stood up abruptly. He strode away, once again leaving Naruku alone.

She took this time to further investigate her wounds. Deciding time was of the essence—or so Megumi always seemed to think while treating patients—she picked up the roll of bandages Hiko had brought.

She reached back and bit back a gasp of pain. Slowly she untied her obi, letting it and her brown pouch fall down. Gingerly, she opened her butter yellow gi and prodded at the wound on her side. There was a mottled purple bruise there and, after touching the spot with two fingers, she was pretty sure it wasn't broken. She thought maybe the bone itself was bruised, so she wrapped it up to keep it protected and to keep her motion limited so she wouldn't upset the wound. It was slow going with only one mobile hand, but she managed, and then reached back and retied her obi—sloppily was the best she could do.

As she reached for her brown satchel, she found Hiko's hand there first. She raised her eyes to his.

"Back again?" she asked coolly, snatching the bag up before he could take it.

"What is that?" he asked.

Tidying her gi, Naruku answered smoothly, "Some letters that I mean to deliver in Kyoto."

"To whom?"

"Old friends," she replied easily. She eyed the jar of salve Hiko held in his hand.

"What old friends?" he persisted.

"Does it matter?" she snapped. "I'm practically dying here, now what's that stuff for, anyway?" she motioned to the jar. "I'm hoping it'll stop the swelling."

"What old friends?" he repeated, switching the jar from one hand to the other.

"Just some old friends, now give me the salve!" she demanded shrilly.

"If I knew who you were seeking, maybe I could help you find them," Hiko offered.

Naruku looked very doubtful. "Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I know where they are. And you can help me by giving me that cream." She motioned at it again, and this time Hiko relented.

She slathered some on her leg and almost immediately felt the soothing sensation. She wished he'd brought it before she wrapped her ribs, but maybe she could convince him to give the jar to her.

She was in the middle of wrapping her shin when Hiko spoke.

"I would think you'd recognize the cream," he said. "As it was given to me by someone I think may be a friend of yours."

"Oh?" Naruku asked, inspecting the jar. "You got this from Megumi-san?"

Hiko nodded.

"When was she in Kyoto?"

"Does it matter?" he mocked her.

She finished with the salve and the bandages. Carefully, so carefully, she got to her feet. The pain didn't hit her quite so hard, and she began to feel as if she could make it to Kyoto.

"Are you leaving then?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I guess I am," she answered.

"Finally," Hiko breathed, earning him a glower from Naruku. He sobered slightly and took his sword and sheath off his belt. "Then take this."

Naruku balked. "What? Why?" That was the real question. Why would a master swordsman offer his sword up to a girl he didn't even think was legitimate? A girl he thought was a joke.

"Don't you need this?" Naruku asked. "I mean, er…so you don't, you know, die?"

"It doesn't matter. If anyone does kill me, I'll be content with the knowledge that I should have died a long time ago," Hiko answered, his voice absolutely impermeable.

Naruku wondered at the meaning of his words.

"That, if you don't know, is why I asked you if you'd let Kenshin die for you. If he is truly teaching you the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, that is how he will end. Eventually, the master always falls to the student's sword. It is the way it has always been."

Naruku took the sword from him, knowing he was wrong. She didn't say anything.

"Goodbye Hiko-san. I don't think I'll ever see you again, but I'll always remember our fight, and your words," Naruku said seriously.

"What fight?" Hiko asked. "That was not a fight, you fool. You barely made me move, at all, and yet I beat you."

Naruku sighed and tried not to get too irritated. She whistled loud and sharp, and saw Makkou come bounding out of the trees toward her, a branch clamped into his jaw.

Naruku took the branch and broke off a bit so it was the perfect size for a walking stick.

"Let's go boy," she said to him, and he barked happily in reply. There were places yet she had to get to, and so she set on her way.


End Notes: The horizontal lines aren't working. And for the record, this chapter was not supposed to be like this. Originally, I was going to include the happenings at the dojo, but I had so much fun with the Hiko/Naruku interaction that it carried for ten pages.

Anyway, please tell me what you think! I'd be so delighted to return from Japan to an inbox full of reviews!