HAPPY NEW YEAR! And I present . . . The Final Chapter! Much less climactic than everything that's been going on, but I always find it nice to have the end wind down a little, get things back to normal. Hopefully it's not too boring after the hell I've put Kenshin through.
It was closer to five weeks than three before Hattori announced he was comfortable with the idea of Kenshin traveling back to Kyoto. As it was, the doctor still felt a little extra time to convalesce would do Kenshin a world of good−the boy's psyche was as wounded as his body−but Hiko was adamant that they leave as soon as possible. Hattori was convinced that if not for his gentle but persistent reminders of Kenshin's fragile state, the swordsman would have had his student on the road even earlier.
The five weeks spent with the Hattori family weren't fruitless. After determining that the shogunate wasn't out for anyone's blood, Hiko had figuratively−and literally−rolled up his sleeves and set to work with a vengeance. The well that Misaki noted would be so convenient sprang into existence over the course of a week, making trips to the community well unnecessary. Soon after that, the small shed behind the bathhouse was stocked with wood−the forest bordering the rear of the castle had been a great asset. Medicinal packages and papers needing to be delivered substantial distances were brought to their destinations in record time.
Not only did the various odds and ends give Hiko something to do−he hadn't realized how dull his life became when he wasn't training an idiot student−it also gave him time to take in the general atmosphere of the city. Even as the weeks wore on, still there was no talk of an assassination. Hiko would almost have been able to believe it hadn't happened if the battered body of his deshi didn't grace his sight every day.
While Kenshin was healing at a noticeable rate for the entirety of their time in Edo, his fever didn't disappear immediately, and his skin had a sickly gray cast to it. Kenshin slept long hours at first, staying awake long enough to eat and bathe. Hattori insisted he bathe twice a day, and the doctor would rub salve on Kenshin's back after he dried off, checking for signs of complications from the lingering infection. Still, it took a full week before Hiko was satisfied with the pallor of Kenshin's skin.
The following weeks were more of the same, although the mild fever that had clung tenaciously for the first week finally relinquished its grip. With the infection successfully beaten off, Kenshin's back began to scab, and it became an art form pulling his clothes on and off each time he woke and before he went to bed.
Hiko winced inwardly each time he saw Kenshin's skinny frame without his yukata. As if the gashes in his back weren't enough, he had a bruise several inches high that reached from his throat to the back of his neck, and the contusion from the saiya had spread over half of his stomach. Both injuries had bruised deep shades of blue and purple but as the weeks passed the colors morphed into sickly hues of green and ochre.
Hiko kept a watchful eye on his progress, waiting for the bruises to fade, and when Kenshin began shuffling his way to the small back yard at the start of their fourth week at the Hattori's, Hiko scooped up the sword Kenshin had left and followed him.
Kenshin plopped on the edge of the porch, reaching a hand over his shoulder to dig under his gi and scratch vigorously at his back. The thick scabs covering it had begun to fall off, and as Kenshin's gi shifted under his ministrations, Hiko caught a glimpse of bright pink welts that would eventually fade into white scars. Hot fury filled him for an instant, and his teeth clenched as he muffled a growl. Kenshin's head spun around at that, and Hiko neutralized his features. He lifted the sword he'd brought and tossed it at Kenshin. Kenshin's frenzied reaction was almost enough to make him laugh. Although Hattori had given him simple exercises to aid the healing of his dislocated shoulder, the red-head was still running one arm short, and by the time he'd extricated his left hand from his gi, the sword was right in front of his face. Mouth open with surprise, eyes darting towards Hiko with indignant disbelief, he managed to grab it before it smashed him across the bridge of his nose.
"Shishou! You almost hit me!"
"Lucky I trained you to have such good reflexes, isn't it."
Kenshin looked from Hiko to the sword, back again. "What's this for?"
"To stab leaves and clean the yard." Hiko quipped. "What do you think, baka? We're training."
"Training?" Kenshin squeaked, all indignation gone. Even when all his limbs were functioning Hiko trounced him with ease. This was going to be complete annihilation.
"Not sparring," Hiko saw his deshi's features sag with relief. "You need to build your muscles back up. I want you to do as many strokes as you can before your arms give out. We'll alternate hits."
Kenshin nodded. This, he could deal with. Blocking Hiko's strikes would be−jolting, to say the least, but at least he could be assured he wasn't going to be knocked on his back just yet.
They started slow, and Kenshin was thankful that his shishou seemed to be pulling his strikes at least a fraction more than he usually did. Even with that added benefit, he almost dropped his sword several times. His right arm was really throwing his balance off.
It ended up being a pitiful performance. Kenshin could feel sweat trickling down his face after only ten hits, and by the time he reached twenty, not only would his arm refuse to move, he couldn't even stand straight anymore.
"Enough." Hiko commanded as Kenshin began to swing his sword while teetering sideways. "Your form's gone to hell. We'll do some more tomorrow."
And so the rest of their days at Hattori's went. Kenshin spent most of his time shuffling around the house and backyard, generally exerting little more energy than a bump on a log. Several times each day though Hiko would drill him in short bursts. It was mostly stroke-work, but once Kenshin didn't feel the need for an extended nap after each training session Hiko began assigning him kata to review.
Hiko always worked with Kenshin while Hattori was in the clinic. People, as he so often told Kenshin, were a distraction to training. Besides which, broadcasting one's style to an audience was simply a bad idea. Kenshin accepted these explanations but a part of him wondered if Hiko simply didn't want to ask the doctor's opinion on the matter and was just trying to stay out of his sight. Kenshin was fairly certain Hattori suspected he was doing some sort of training anyway. Especially when the doctor suggested he also start using his right hand to lift his sword.
"No contact yet," He said firmly, and Kenshin saw his gaze slide towards Hiko, standing in the doorway as he usually did during these morning checkups. "Just get used to the weight and feel again."
And so kata review began. It was frustrating, to say the least. Kenshin's speed wasn't anywhere near where it had been at the start of the year, and the more aggressive moves, particularly the ones that relied more on the right side, made his arm twinge, so he didn't always follow through like he knew he should. He kept at it though, determined to show Hiko that he was serious about returning to training, that he wasn't a miserable excuse for a student.
It was only a few days later that Hattori proclaimed Kenshin fit enough to make the long trip back to Kyoto. He came in as he had done every morning and looked Kenshin over thoroughly, feeling his throat and stomach, looking at his back and arm. Usually Hattori would make some small comment afterwards while nodding at Kenshin to head to the bathhouse. This time though he turned to Hiko while he rubbed the medicinal herbs into Kenshin's back.
"He's healed nicely. I'd say there's little to keep you here at this point. I suggest you continue using the salve and medicine until the scabs are completely gone, just to be safe. And you," Hattori wagged a finger at Kenshin, "don't strain your arm. I've realized you're just as stubborn as your teacher but you'll do serious damage if you try too much too soon. Keep taking it slow. Understand?" Kenshin nodded.
"Good." Hattori turned his hands palm up. "If you'd like to stay longer-"
Hiko answered for them. "If he's fit enough, we're going to be on our way today. It's still morning, that's a perfect time to start back."
"It certainly couldn't hurt to stay a bit more, and we wouldn't think of it as imposing." Hattori pressed. Just in case Hiko was, for once, demurring out of thoughtfulness lest he overstay his welcome. Hiko's response was characteristically blunt.
"The sooner we're back in Kyoto, the better." That answered that.
"Then thank you for your assistance while you stayed here, Hiko-san. My boys are going to miss having you and your student around."
"My assistance was hardly adequate." Hiko said. "Thank you, for all your efforts. I appreciate your dedication." Hattori bowed in response. He supposed that had been a lot to say, coming from a man who seemed ridiculously stingy on praise.
"Thank you, Hattori-sensei." Kenshin said earnestly, bowing from his perch on the bed. "Shishou said I could have died."
"And you could have." Hattori said seriously. The doctor regarded Hiko, for a moment, then bent down next to Kenshin and leaned in close to his ear. "But you know," He whispered, "your shishou cares for you too much to let that happen." It was apparent from Hiko's disgruntled expression that he couldn't hear what was being said.
"Really?" Kenshin whispered back, genuine surprise edging his tone. Hattori saw his mouth curve into a shy smile then, and his eyes flicked towards Hiko.
"I don't know what you're looking over here for." Hiko groused. "I can't hear anything you're saying."
Kenshin dropped his gaze but his smile didn't disappear. "Sorry, shishou."
Hiko stepped away from the wall. "If that's all, then we should depart."
Hattori rose to his feet and nodded. "I thought you would want to go as soon as possible." He reached to a shelf behind him and picked up a cloth bundle which he handed to Hiko. "Take this. It's the salve I've been putting on Ken-chan's back, and some herbs as well. There should be enough for several weeks."
Hiko took the proffered item. "Thank you."
"My wife has packed some food for you as well." Hattori continued. "I let her know you would probably be leaving today." He turned and indicated that they follow, and the trio made their way into the house proper.
Misaki met them in the kitchen, eyes already misty, and the next fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of departure. Misaki presented them with enough food to last several days, assuring them that it was nothing special, just what she'd had laying around. Hattori told Hiko of two good locations to stop at overnight in Totsuka, mentioning almost as an aside that if they passed those, the temple town of Fujisawa was well over ten miles away.
Bows and goodbyes passed between the two parties, Inoue jumping up and down as he waved, encouraging Hiko and Kenshin to come back and visit sometime. Kouhei was a bit more dignified, bowing to Hiko and waving to Kenshin, although he did take a moment to join his brother in gawking at the Hiten Mitsurugi master one last time. Hiko was busy frowning at the two of them when Misaki unexpectedly wrapped Kenshin in a hug, making him start.
"I'm so glad you're up and about. Be careful on your journey back." She turned a stern gaze towards Hiko. "Take good care of this boy." Hattori's face flamed with embarrassment as he muttered an apology about his wife's impudence but Hiko merely flashed a tight smile.
"If he does as he's told, that shouldn't be a problem." No-one saw the ever-so-slight cringe of guilt that seized Kenshin, and if the ever-perceptive Hiten master noticed, he didn't show it. There was one more round of goodbyes then before Hiko grabbed Kenshin's shoulder and steered him towards the door.
"Come visit soon!" Inoue called for the tenth time as they walked outside.
Hiko didn't respond, just lifted a hand in a casual wave as he strode down the road. Kenshin turned around to walk backwards for several seconds though, wanting one last glimpse of the man who had saved his life. Hattori and his family were still outside, all waving, and Kenshin thought he caught Misaki wiping her eyes. He flashed them a parting smile, waving vigorously.
"Sayounara, Hattori-sensei! Sayounara, Misaki-san! S-!" He tripped over an uneven patch of road then and almost landed flat on his backside, but a strong hand caught him just before he fell and faced him forwards.
"Look where you're going, baka deshi."
And so it was that on April 25th, of the seventh year of Ansei , Hiko Seijuurou the XIII began the long journey back to Kyoto with a still pale but very-much-alive student at his side.
The journey back to Kyoto took considerably longer than Hiko's solo trip to Edo. Naturally, just having Kenshin with him made it slower. The boy was−well, a boy. His legs were shorter and he simply couldn't move as fast as Hiko, regardless of how much he might want to. That, Hiko could endure with moderate patience.
Having a still recovering deshi who could hardly walk two miles without sucking wind, though, made the already slowed pace nigh unbearable. It wasn't that Kenshin was actually stopping. No, he pressed on even as his legs trembled beneath him and his jaw clenched with the effort. Somewhere between the nihonbashi and Shinagawa, Hiko wondered if maybe they should have lingered a few more days in Edo. At this rate, Kenshin was bound to render himself ineffective before they even reached the first post station.
Then he decided that it wasn't strength so much as it was stamina. Of course Kenshin's capacity to cover distance would have diminished severely after being cooped up for a solid month. A few extra days really wouldn't have made much of a difference in that regard. Just as well they'd started when they did. Hiko wasn't against making frequent stops; in fact, that would allow him time to enjoy the scenery a little more. It wasn't as if they were in any rush. Not technically, at least. Kenshin's endurance should improve significantly within a few days.
Until then, it was unlikely he would admit to fatigue or stop of his own accord. Hiko would just have to force the issue.
"Side of the road, Kenshin." His student took another trembling step and gave Hiko a puzzled look.
"But we're not-" He let out a faint eep as Hiko swiped his legs from under him, grabbing his good arm to brace his fall.
"I thought I told you that I wasn't going to carry you." Hiko remarked as Kenshin found himself sitting on the ground.
"You're not." Kenshin scowled, pulling his arm from Hiko's loose grip and standing. "Why're you making me stop? I can keep going!"
"The only reason I'm not carrying you is because we've stopped. You keep going like this and you're going to collapse before we get another mile. Save the martyrdom for a time when you actually need it."
"But it's going to take longer if we stop!"
"A brilliant observation." Hiko said dryly. "It's also going to take longer if you knock yourself out. Think, for once. Don't give me more reasons to call you baka deshi."
Kenshin crossed his arms in a sullen display to accompany the frown on his face but his show hardly rang sincere. He must have realized it, because hardly five seconds later he let his arms fall to his side and took a seat on the ground. He sat silently for a few minutes, looking up at the sky and taking slow breaths. After the circumstances of the past month, it felt good, to be doing something so mundane. A skein of white clouds drifted across the sun for a moment, and Kenshin waited for them to pass before looking up at his teacher. Hiko stood nearby, watching the wind tease the leaves of the trees.
"Shishou?" An absentminded grunt answered him. "I can keep going now."
Hiko's gaze moved from the trees to his student. Kenshin was getting to his feet, his legs steady. Color had returned to his cheeks.
"Good." They stepped back onto the road. "We'll stop every two hours today." Hiko could almost feel the anxiety emanating from his deshi, and he sighed inwardly. Sometimes, it was impossible even for him to read this kid. "What is it, Kenshin?"
"Am I−are you going to-" Kenshin paused, started again in a small voice. "Do I get extra kata every time we have to stop?"
Hiko almost burst out laughing. No wonder Kenshin had been so adamant about continuing before! He thought Hiko was going to pile on the work for every additional inconvenience. "Baka deshi, you already have so much extra training to do there's no point in trying to give you more."
"Oh." The one word spoke volumes. Hiko didn't have to look at Kenshin's face to know it was suffused with relief. That irked him slightly. He didn't want Kenshin thinking there would be no repercussions from anything that happened on this trip just because he was still recovering.
"Still, if we don't make it to Totsuka by evening . . ."
He saw the startled look Kenshin threw at him, smirked inwardly.
Power reinstated.
The winding road that led from the village on the outskirts of Kyoto to the mountains lay desolate. Beams from the full moon embraced the row of sakura trees, illuminating the late blossoms so that the pale flowers shone like pearls. It was an ethereal sight but only two people were privy to it that night in early May. A man strikingly tall and broad, a boy just as short and slender, the duo had just left the village to continue on the road to the mountains. It was an unusual path to take at this time, for sure. Most people avoided the roads at night, due to roaming samurai-turned-bandits that had become ubiquitous.
These particular travelers had swords swinging from their sides though, and the man at least looked self-assured enough that any bandit would think twice before accosting them. As such, the only greeting they received was from less unsavory nightlife, the shrill buzz of cicadas and plaintive chirrup of crickets echoing around them. The boy didn't seem to be enjoying the beauty of the night for what it was. He looked wary and on edge, and he halted suddenly and glanced to the side of the road as the insect symphony made an abrupt tacit.
"Shishou . . ."
"It's nothing, Kenshin. Just a fox." Hiko didn't pause, and Kenshin had to break into a trot to catch up to him.
"Are you sure? Maybe they're just hiding their ki . . ."
"If I say it's nothing, then it's nothing." Kenshin swallowed the rest of his words, but his eyes continued to dart and he stayed close to Hiko's side. Not that he didn't trust his shishou's judgment, but it had been a long day.
No, a long week. It had been twelve days since they'd left Edo, and even though Hiko had indeed stopped whenever it seemed his deshi was losing momentum, Kenshin felt as if he were walking in a fog. He was exhausted from the hours of walking, the nights of sleeping on the hard ground a ways off the road, the seemingly endless road before him. And now they were so close, walking the very stretch of road where Yoshinobu had accosted Kenshin. Kenshin knew it was illogical, but he had been thinking about potential ambushes since they'd passed through the last village before the mountains. He hadn't wanted to walk during the night−particularly on this part of the road−but Hiko had insisted on it, since they would be back at a reasonable enough time even though it would be dark.
"Shishou, I think I see something up there." Kenshin indicated a dark mass several meters in front of them. His fingers closed nervously around his sword, and he was so tense he couldn't help but jump when Hiko growled impatiently.
"Baka deshi, it's a prayer stone! Stop jumping at every shadow that crosses your path. If there was anything out there, my presence would be enough to send them running the opposite direction." Now that they were closer, Kenshin saw his shishou was right; it was a prayer stone. He let out a breath shaky with pent-up adrenaline.
"Hai." Still, there were several more times when nocturnal rustles and unwieldy shadows made his hand clench spasmodically around his sword but Kenshin kept quiet the rest of the way back. Both student and teacher felt unbridled relief when the road, which had been growing ever fainter as they moved steadily upwards, finally gave way to a thin trail that could have been mistaken for a deer run. The row of sakura trees ended there, taken over by gnarled oaks and smooth-skinned birches that grew so close together their branches were entangled.
"Shishou, we're almost back!" Kenshin was fairly dancing with glee, his weariness temporarily taking a hiatus.
"And about time." Hiko muttered as Kenshin cavorted ahead of him, turning every few seconds as if to insure Hiko was following him. Kenshin was babbling excitedly now, pointing out small markers that he recognized as he passed them: a twisted branch here, an odd-shaped stone there. Hiko listened to the steady stream of speech with growing amusement.
After several minutes, the sound of rushing water could be heard, and Kenshin emitted what could only be described as a squeal and jumped into the air.
"There's the waterfall!" He stabbed a hand into the darkness, face ecstatic as he looked towards Hiko.
"I don't need a lesson on my own mountian. I know where the waterfall is as well as you." Hiko grumbled. Secretly though, he found Kenshin's antics rather−well, if he were a man to use such a word, he supposed "endearing" might be the correct term. Who would've thought the little shrimp would be so happy to return?
Kenshin's prattle continued without cease, and Hiko thought something was wrong at first when his chatter stopped abruptly. Kenshin had kept ahead of him on the narrow trail, and Hiko moved forward swiftly now, his deshi's body silhouetted several meters in front of him. The boy was standing stock still at the edge of the clearing where Hiko's hut lay. Hiko stopped beside him, following Kenshin's eyes. His student was looking at the shadowy outline of the house in front of him, eyes wide and somber. He stayed that way until Hiko nudged him on the shoulder, causing Kenshin to stumble forward.
"What are you waiting for, the night's not getting any younger." Hiko started towards the darkened hut and pushed the door open. A puff of stagnant air greeted him.
The inside was exactly as he had left it, if smelling slightly mustier than usual from disuse. There were the empty sake jars still on the floor, there were the dead embers from the last fire, there the unlit lamp. Speaking of which . . . Hiko moved to light the small lantern and the room was soon wrapped in a warm glow. Hearing Kenshin's footsteps in the doorway, Hiko turned. The red-head was standing just over the threshold, looking uncertain.
Hiko studied him for a moment, noting the solemn expression as one foot rubbed apprehensively against the other. It looked as if some conflict was playing itself out in his head. Guilt? Shame? Or maybe he was just uncertain how Hiko would be now that they were actually back. Whatever the problem, he was obviously dwelling on it too much. Hiko had the perfect solution for that. The best way he knew to reduce excess worries was to ply it with familiar work.
"Water buckets, Kenshin. Food isn't going to cook itself." Kenshin looked at Hiko as if just noticing he was there.
"Water buckets?"
"You heard me. Go get some water." Kenshin opened his mouth as if about to protest, but then his eyes sparked with understanding and a slight smile tugged at his lips.
"Hai." He moved towards the buckets, and as he walked outside with them Hiko followed him, heading towards the wood pile. Kenshin was too preoccupied to notice the eyes that stayed on his back as he disappeared down the trail.
The moon was bright enough that it wasn't an effort for Kenshin to stay on the overgrown path in front of him. Buckets swinging from either hand, he made his way to where he knew the shallow end of the creek was, hearing the soft gurgle of water before he could see it. Bending to rest a knee on the riverbed, Kenshin paused before he swept the bucket into the stream. It seemed such a long time since he'd done this chore that he so hated. Normally he would have filled the buckets as fast as he could and headed back to the hut. Now, he felt he could sit here all night, listening to the rush of water, knowing that it was only a short walk back to where shishou was waiting. He'd honestly had thought he would never see this mountain again. And now that he was here, he wanted to soak in everything around it, revisit all his favorite thickets and creek bends that he'd discovered over the past few years.
Shishou was waiting though, and Kenshin was hungry, so he settled for taking a deep breath of the pine-scented woods before filling the buckets and trudging back. When he returned, moving slowly so as not to slosh water onto the floor, the fire was going strong, and Hiko was setting a variety of food items and cooking implements in front of it.
"Took you long enough." Hiko commented, hanging a pot above the fire and motioning at Kenshin to pour one of the buckets of water into it. "Getting lost after such a short absence?"
The water sloshed against the pot's sides. "No. Just . . ." Kenshin watched as a handful of pitifully wilted green onions flew through the air and splashed into the water. "Thinking, I guess." He finished.
Hiko made a noncommital noise and continued tossing ingredients into the pot. Tiny bubbles began streaming up from the bottom, and Kenshin settled on the other side of the fire, watching as the bubbles grew bigger and the water started to boil. Whatever shishou had thrown in there, it was already starting to smell good. He licked his lips, hoping it wouldn't take long to cook.
"Kenshin."
Kenshin looked up, already filled with apprehension even before he saw his master had sat back from the fire, arms crossed across his chest. That pose never boded well, and the tone of voice Hiko had used didn't indicate idle conversation. Kenshin forced himself to look his teacher in the eye, swallowing.
"Shishou?"
"I've said nothing until now because there was already enough to deal with in Edo. But now that we're back, I want a straight answer. You didn't fall and cut your tongue. Did you."
It wasn't exactly a question, so Kenshin sat frozen, unwilling to reply. Hiko didn't seem to mind his reticence.
"You think so little of your life that you would try to end it on a whim?"
It sounded bad when it was put like that.
"Did it occur to you that not only would you be throwing away your future, you'd be throwing away all the effort anyone ever put into keeping your pathetically scrawny hide alive?"
That sounded even worse.
"Three girls gave their lives for you, and you intended to waste that sacrifice, trample it even." Hiko's voice wasn't overly harsh but his words stung.
"I didn't think about that!" Kenshin burst out, unable to remain silent any longer. "I didn't think about anything, I just wanted it to stop!" The memory made his throat burn and his words caught painfully but he plowed on. "I thought−I thought you'd be too angry at me−and that it would-" He paused to swallow and take a shaky breath, "it would just go on forever, and, and, and that was all I could do." He stopped, ashamed at admitting his weakness, more ashamed when he realized his eyes were damp, threatening to overflow at any moment.
"And if you had succeeded, or I had arrived a day later?" Hiko let the words hang in the air for a moment. "A swordsman's life isn't easy, Kenshin. That's why I'm telling you this. So that next time, instead of acting on impulse, you think about your options. And killing yourself is not an option. If for nothing else, never make your enemy's job easier." Hiko stood and peered into the pot, raised his eyes to Kenshin again. "Do you understand?"
Not trusting himself to speak, Kenshin nodded, somehow managing to keep his tears at bay.
"I want to hear you say it, Kenshin."
Kenshin waited a moment, giving his throat a chance to loosen, his voice a chance to recover. "I won't−I won't try to k-kill myself again. No matter what happens." It was harder than he'd thought, to mention it aloud. So much easier to just have an image in his mind. Maybe shishou had known that.
Kenshin's eyes were dry now, and he met Hiko's gaze again. "I promise, shishou."
Hiko picked up a long pair of cooking chopsticks and stirred the broth. "Good. Now get us some bowls. This is about ready."
The soup was a hodgepodge of ingredients that probably wouldn't have been thrown together under any other circumstances but Kenshin was so hungry he hardly noticed. He washed the dishes with the other bucket of water after they'd eaten, finding the chore as relaxing as drawing water had been. Hiko ordered him to bed as soon as the dishes were put away, and Kenshin was happy to comply. Appetite sated, all he wanted to do now was sleep, and he pulled his futon out with unusual alacrity.
One word had occupied Kenshin's thoughts since they'd returned, and it rested contentedly at the edge of his mind as he lay on his futon listening to his master's breathing, feeling the ki that he'd come to trust and rely on. He'd wanted to say that word so badly when he'd walked through the doorway, but then doubt had filled him and he'd imagined the rebuttal that might come, so he'd said nothing. Still, the word wrapped aroud him, warm as a blanket, and it continued to ring through his head even as he lay there, not fully awake but not yet asleep.
Tadaima.
And so we reach the end of our 28-chapter journey! I'm crying inwardly. And actually . . . I will be posting an epilogue. A very short one. I told you, I get nostalgic! If you want to entertain yourself by guessing what it might be about, my nebulous hint is to think about how old Kenshin is (his age is mentioned several different times in the fic). And I'll leave it at that.
So now that we're at the end, please let me know what you thought of the story as a whole, any parts you thought could've been expanded/shortened, any extra character development, things like that. I appreciate it, and it helps with future stories. Or if you just want to heap praise on, I'm totally ok with that too. ;)
A/N: Well, Hiko finally did some work. I figured digging a well and chopping a shed's worth of wood was a good start to chipping away at his debt. Maybe stifling debt is the reason he became a potter . . .
Some of you might have been horrified that Hiko so casually tossed Kenshin's sword at him. "Swordsmen revere their swords more than that!" Yes, but I feel like anime characters take liberties with these types of actions, especially when it looks as suave as tossing a sword at someone. And it totally seemed like something Hiko would do.
Lastly, I imagine many, if not all of you, are wondering how the hell no one in Edo knows about Naosuke's assassination. Well . . . I'm really not sure how the shougunate managed to keep that under wraps either, but the population of Edo was told Naosuke was simply suffering from some illness, and before he "died" three months later, the shougunate actually had "Naosuke" turn in resignation papers. Crazy, huh?
(p.s. A/N: I GOT A MUSASHI KATANA FOR CHRISTMAS! And it is amazing. I've already had a photo shoot with it and made one of them my facebook pic, bwaha!)
To all my reveiwers, thank you so much! Critical reviews really help focus authors on areas that could be improved, and complementary reviews are a great boost to morale. Both let the author know their work is being read and appreciated! So thank you for the time you put in to leave a little note and brighten my day!
Darkmoon Fleur: Glad you've enjoyed my fic! Stay tuned for the epilogue, it should be out within a week.
Honeyberries: Haha, no worries on getting out of Edo before word of the assassination gets out! Although . . . it would have been fun to get Hiko and Kenshin into more trouble . . .
t42n24t: I know, I've been horrible on the updates lately! I blame the holidays. I think regardless of what Kenshin knows about decisions based on emotion, that's just the kind of guy he is. He might be able to see how it's disadvantageous, but in the heat of things it's hard for him to change how he reacts. As for these events turning him against the rebellion (haha, Star Wars playing in my head), Kenshin was an immature child when he left to join the Ishin, and until Katsura asked him if he could kill, I don't think he quite realized what he was getting into. He's even younger in this story, and I think the politics of the matter are over his head at this point. He only knows some men want Hiko to kill a powerful someone for them, and that he was taken as bait.
Kaida Ukitake: Yay for ROFL! Glad it was worth the wait.
ZukoFlame: Heh, I know all about getting in the college apps and doing last minute stuff for them, it is HECTIC. So no worries about not finding time for review. Thanks for the super long one this time! I'm happy to hear Hiko isn't coming across as too mushy for you. It's one of my pet peeves in Kenshin fics, so I think I'd be mortified if my characterization was too soft (of course, maybe I overcompensate at times, but for Hiko I'd rather go with too harsh than too soft). Yes, Kenshin has had more than physical trauma, and the epilogue will address that to a degree. It might not be quiiiiite as in-depth as you're looking for, but there will be something at least. 6 AP classes? You are ridiculous. Good luck with that, you'll be happy you did it when it's over. It's really handy to have core stuff out of the way so you can concentrate on your major/interests. I'm looking forward to the next chappie of your fic! Hope Christmas/New Years break was more productive story-wise for you than it was for me! (But I did have a lovely Christmas! See above comment about Musashi katana.)