From Kenshin's perspective, he'd only been gone for three years so finding Hiko Seijuro wasn't a problem. Convincing that arrogant, spiteful old man to complete his training fifteen years later was the challenge. A conundrum his mind kept abandoning to concentrate on Kaoru. He spent a week with her, insufficient to justify the way his thoughts kept returned to her blue eyes and bright grin.
Knowing the rumors about him didn't keep her from breaking his name in half like she could easily call him Shinta. Did she know? Did he want her to know? Did he want to test her love and loyalty until they faltered? He wasn't even sure he wanted to go back. Kenshin took a deep cleansing breath and forced his mind to focus on his upcoming challenge with his insufferable training master.
Hiko Seijuro sat on the log in front of his campfire savoring a saucer of sake. He didn't fully recognize the ki approaching from behind; perhaps it was a combination of their time apart and the jug of sake he consumed. He stood, turned and drew his katana in a blur of motion, aware that the blow he deflected was from a different man than he expected his student to become. Only a trace of the Kenshin he knew remained.
Kenshin went through the motions of sitting formally with his sword on the ground in front of him and very respectfully asking the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi to complete his training. He fully expected the scoffing response he received and showed no emotion as he retrieved his sakabato and stood up.
"You think you can defeat Shishio Mokoto with that blade? You're still as stupid as ever." I wasted my time training this idealistic fool.
"My purpose is to eliminate any threat of war, not necessarily to take his life." Even before Tomoe's death he'd planned on setting aside his katana when the Bakumatsu was over.
"Neither the Tokugawa Bakufu nor the Emperor made much difference in the lives of the common people; a democratic government won't make any more difference in daily life than Shishio Mokoto because there is more corruption than integrity in human nature."
"The Meiji era may not benefit everyone, yet all are better off with freedom than under tyranny."
"Between roving bandits, Yakuza and slavers what distinction is there between peace and war?"
"Too many good men were sacrificed for the Meiji Restoration for me to turn my back. I will not allow Shishio to immerse Japan in bloodshed again for his own personal glory." Could Hiko get anymore obstinate?
"And what will you do when it is over? Go back to your own version of exile, wandering throughout the country? Our path doesn't end, there is no real peace." His student was still as stubborn as a mule.
"After Shishio is defeated my path will end where it began."
"Then it's time to finish your training." Exactly where was the beginning of Kenshin's path? The field of corpses where they first met? Here? In Kyoto where he became Battosai? Hiko hoped the idiot was talking about some point after he lost track of him.
Kenshin and Hiko faced each other in their old training area; a rocky cliff with a sheer side over the river. Judging by the sly smirk on his training master's face this was going to take more time than Kenshin wanted to spend.
"You sacrificed your mind and spirit as Battosai; will you now sacrifice your life? You were a slave for too long at an early age; that may be why you're so willing to die."
"I will continue on the path I have chosen. I will protect Japan at any cost." Mentioning his early childhood was always one of Hiko's favorite ways to throw him off guard. It doesn't matter what he's planning this time, Kenshin will only give him two days before going back down to the city.
Hiko seemed to actually listen to his response. "If you land a strike on me I will finish your training."
This was a familiar game. If he landed a strike Hiko would come up with a different challenge or teach him some move that would be useless against Shishio. If Kenshin didn't land a strike he'd be doing household chores until Hiko decided to challenge him again. Kenshin flicked his wrist rotating the blade 180 degrees and locking its new position as he aimed one of the Kamiya Kasshin shoulder strikes at his training master's elbow. He used his full force and speed to execute one of Yahiko's moves grazing Hiko's skin. The master moved too quickly for the strike to draw blood, but there was no doubt about the outcome of the challenge.
"Don't you remember any Hiten Mitsurugi katas? I don't have time to teach you everything from the beginning."
"You didn't specify the sword style." Kenshin wasn't going to use something expected like Ryusosen or Ryukansen.
Hiko's bored expression put Kenshin on edge waiting for his next move. "Where have you been for the past decade?"
"I don't know."
Saito leaned against the wall lighting another cigarette. He exhaled slowly contemplating an updated version of his motto 'Aku Soku Zan'. He'd spent most of the morning interrogating Cho in between interruptions from Sano yelling something about a rematch and he was almost to the point of following through with 'Swift Death to Stupidity'. He didn't really need to get anymore information out of Cho and decided to leave before the hallway was littered with random severed heads. If Himura showed up he'd just have to come back tomorrow.
He stopped by the Aoi-Ya the next morning to let the local Oniwabanshu know Shishio's plan – setting fire to Kyoto – may happen in within the next few days. Saito knew from personal experience that the ninjas had a special knack for protecting the city. The local police, however, left him rather unimpressed. That girl brought in just as many pickpockets and petty criminals from the market as any other officer on the afternoon shift. She couldn't stay out of trouble, but at least she had sense enough to quit when it got dark.
Sano had broken out of his cell during the night and was sitting in the hallway with a bandaged hand. Several of the iron bars had disintegrated; the rooster-head had developed a skill that may come in handy.
Hiko and Kenshin faced off against each other at the edge of Hiko's clearing just after dawn. Kenshin was to use Amakakeru Ryu No Hirameki, Heavens-Bridging Dragon Spark, against Hiko's Kuzu-ryusen. One of them would die; Kenshin made sure his sakabato was locked in its reversed blade position. No way would he die here, but he didn't want to kill Hiko; although while growing up there were several times that he wished the overbearing arrogant jerk would drop off a cliff.
Hiko took a last look at his amber-eyed student who had quickly learned the two most difficult moves of all the sword styles Hiko knew. He was now familiar with the battle-ready death glare and knew some of the rumors about Battosai were accurate. He attacked the demon of Kyoto.
Kenshin lay on the ground wondering how he came to be in this position when he recalled finding an intruder on the roof of the dojo. He tried to stand as the image of a tall man with three spikes curved around each shoulder faded. He staggered a bit, but the dizziness went away after a minute. Hiko was still on the ground, struck across the chest, yet not bleeding much. He was breathing so Kenshin went to the well for water.
Hiko got to his feet noticing that he was alone again. The wound on his chest needed to be cleaned and bandaged, but there were enough medical supplies in his hut to take care of this.
"When are you leaving?"
"Now. I have to find Shishio."
"You're not going to take this?" Hiko held out the cloak that had been passed down through thirteen masters of Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu.
"I did not come here to become Hiko Seijuro, the fourteenth master of Hiten. Our sword style will not be passed on to another generation."
Since the Sengoku era there has been one master and one apprentice. If the master died from the succession technique, Amakakeru Ryu No Hirameki, the apprentice then took the name, title and cloak. The Meiji era was ending even this tradition.