Disclaimer - I don't own Ruroken. Don't sue.
CHAPTER THREE
Kamiya Kaoru – and her madly overeager younger brother Yahiko – lived in a dojo in downtown Tokyo. Kenshin looked about him, fascinated –
"Kamiya Kasshin Ryu," he said, reading from the wooden sign hanging just outside the entrance. "You're the assistant master?" he asked Kaoru, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes." She nodded. "But teaching kendo doesn't bring in much money, so –" she slid a sidelong look at him, grinned wickedly. "I moonlight as a film critic."
Kenshin made a face.
"Kao-ru!" Yahiko called. "Come on!" He waved at them from the dojo door, urging them to catch up with him.
Kaoru sighed. "Come on," she said. "Otherwise he'll be impossible to live with."
Kenshin followed her into the dojo. It was old, probably dating back to the late Tokugawa period, the floors polished wood, spotlessly clean from hours on end of dedicated scrubbing. Instantly, he felt at home – here, in places like this, where discipline, physical effort, and sweat led to calm, still peace…
"This is a good place," he said, more to himself than to her.
She turned and looked at him in surprise. He didn't see it, walking over to examine the old, faded scars in the walls, signs of hard use –
"Where did you learn to use a sword, Himura-san?" Yahiko asked. "Your biography said you trained in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu."
Kenshin came back to himself. "Yes," he answered, smiling his charming public smile. "My shishou had a small dojo, on the outskirts of Kyoto. I used to ride there on my bicycle after school." He strolled up to Yahiko, who was staring eagerly at the rack of shinai on the wall. "Shall we?"
Yahiko nodded eagerly and handed him a shinai. Kenshin accepted it with a small bow and hefted it experimentally, gaining a feel for the balance and weight. He turned to Kaoru, as assistant master, who nodded her head, giving permission.
He stepped into the middle of the room, drew in a deep breath, and began his kata.
She'd seen it before. In his movies, in Trust and Betrayal, he'd demonstrated the range and power of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. She could recognize some of the individual moves: the terrible, swift unsheathing stroke, the swirling inside slash, the spectacular, soaring aerial move that killed from above. These were his signature moves, and watching him perform them was awe-inspiring, but Kaoru, watching his kata, noticed something else.
He had flawless command of the fundamentals of kendo. Every step precise, every shift of weight perfectly balanced – that spoke of hours upon hours of hard, disciplined training. She hadn't thought it of him.
This is a good place.
Somehow, because his fight scenes were always so flashy and spectacular, she forgot that to attain that level of skill, he must have worked endlessly for years. His good looks, his celebrity, his confident smile – it had all blinded her to the fundamental truth that, underneath everything else, he was primarily a martial artist.
Kata was a powerful revealer of character. And watching him, she did not see ego and arrogance, but only skill and confidence.
After fifteen minutes, he ended it, finishing with a solemn bow. Feeling the warm, smooth flow of his muscles, he stood up and returned the shinai to Yahiko, who was watching him as if he were a god, and then turned to Kaoru, who had a very peculiar expression on her face.
"Kamiya-san?" he asked quizzically. "Is there something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No. It's just that…" she frowned, and seemed to nerve herself up to say something. "It's just that I think I owe you an apology."
He blinked. "Oro?"
She stared at him.
He cursed himself. His childhood habit of chronic shyness with beautiful girls was coming back to haunt him with a vengeance.
"Himura-san," she drew herself up and bowed, very formally, "I apologise for calling you a wooden, stone-faced sword-swinger, and for any number of other such comments in the past."
Kenshin couldn't help it. "A wooden, stone-faced sword-swinger? I don't think I remember that one…" He pinned on his most guileless smile, laughing as she glared suspiciously at him.
"Was that from your review on Once upon a time in Japan 4? Or…no. I remember. Triad Assassin in New York."
She laughed. "All right Himura-san, I give in. Truce?"
They shook hands on it.
TBC...