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Only the Beginning
Written by lolo popoki
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Struggling to compose himself, he forced his eyes open and focused on the creased paper in his hands. Silently, he continued to read his student's final words.
Chapter 2: Decisions
Gomen-nasai, Shishou... I'm so sorry... please, please forgive... oh Kami-sama what have I done? You tried to warn me, to stop me, but I just did not listen. I did not understand until it was too late. I guess I truly am an idiot, the way you have always said. I have betrayed your trust in me, betrayed your teachings. I have misused the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu in my misguided desire to save this country. We may have won, but it is I who is lost. I have lost a part of my soul, and I just cannot seem to find it. An empty shell, a shattered man, a demon is all I am now. The Ishin Shishi leaders consider me a hero? They want to reward me for the part I played in this war? Reward? They want to reward me for murder? I refuse to accept a government position on the basis of man-slaughter. This one is not worthy of such things. My hands... my hands... there is so much blood! The others do not see it, but I know it is there. I can smell it, taste it, feel it sliding down my skin... have I perhaps gone mad? No matter how much I wash, my soul can never be cleansed. I have killed so many; how could I ever go on living with my sins? What else can I do? Death is my only option now. I will send my unclean soul to the pits of hell, which I most certainly deserve. I can hear the dead... their voices screaming, crying out for vengeance. Their bloodied faces and accusing eyes haunt me in my dreams. I only hope that maybe the families of my victims can find some measure of peace from my demise. It will be my apology for the suffering I have put them all through. Now that my job is complete, I will keep the promise I made to my wife... Tomoe, sweet Tomoe... another one of Battousai's victims. One final death... my own... and then I will never be able to kill again. I wish I could have seen you one last time, but I am sure you understand why I could not. We parted on such unpleasant terms, you must truly hate me by now. I just want you to know that I have missed you terribly these last five years. You were like a father to me. Arigatou... thank you for everything you tried to do for me. I'm sorry I was such a failure.
Dearest Shishou... Sayonara.
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Oh Kenshin...
Hiko suddenly felt numb, disconnected. He couldn't feel anything. It was as if a door had slammed shut in his mind, blocking away the threatening onslaught of emotions before they could overwhelm him. He stared blankly at the crumpled parchment before lifting his head.
"When did it happen?" His voice was calm, unemotional.
Katsura started slightly, then turned to face him with eyes full of sorrow. "Sometime last evening," he responded gently. "We found him dead in his room this morning. Okami-san went up to check on him after he didn't show up for breakfast. The poor woman was in hysterics. She had always been fond of Himura, from the day he first arrived. He used to help her out in the kitchen and perform various chores for her and the other servants. It was like losing a son for her."
"How did he...?"
The other man hesitated for a moment. "Seppuku," he said finally. "But, it was poorly done. He made sure it was not a quick or easy death. I think he wanted to suffer as much as he could before he died." Katsura closed his eyes tightly. "He must have lain like that for most of the night, until his heart finally gave out before dawn."
The metaphorical door cracked open slightly at Katsura's words, allowing a feeling of anguish for his tortured student to escape, before Hiko forced it closed again. The only outward sign of his distress was the slight clenching in the muscles of his jaw.
"He mentioned a wife...Tomoe," he said flatly, though in a detached part of his mind he was somewhat astonished at the thought of the woman-shy young man ever marrying. "What can you tell me about her?"
"Yukishiro Tomoe was her name. They were married soon after Himura-san turned fifteen. She died about six months later." Katsura shook his head sadly. "It's a long and tragic story, so I will not go into detail right now. Only that she died accidentally, by his own sword, as she tried to save his life." He sighed heavily. "He made a vow to her that when the outcome of the war had been decided, he would never take another life."
Only fifteen? Fifteen is much too young an age to have lost a wife, and by his own hand. After everything that happened to him as a young child...It's no wonder he ended up so unstable.
Katsura hesitantly interrupted Hiko's thoughts with a question of his own. "Forgive me, Hiko-san... I regret having to bring this up so soon, but... what kind of arrangements should be made? You are the closest thing he had to family; it should be your decision to make."
My decision...?
Hiko remained silent for a long time, his cold, unblinking stare unnerving the smaller man. Without a word, he swiftly turned and disappeared back into the cabin, leaving a slightly bewildered Katsura staring at the empty doorway.
Inside the hut, Hiko was studying the contents of several shelves lined against the far wall. After a moment, he had found what he was looking for. Almost reverently, he reached out and carefully removed a delicately painted urn from its resting place on the shelf.
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It had been one of Hiko's best pieces, and Kenshin's favorite. He remembered the boy kneeling silently in the grass at his master's feet, watching in wide-eyed fascination, as Hiko expertly applied the final brushstrokes to the graceful figure that coiled around the urn's smooth surface.
Finally finished, Hiko laid down his brush and proudly held up the completed work of art, being careful not to smudge the still wet paint. "So, what do you think?"
Kenshin was absolutely delighted by the vivid colors and exquisite detail. "Shishou, it's beautiful!" he exclaimed, with all the enthusiasm that only an eleven year old child could manage. A brief pause. "What is it?"
Hiko facefaulted. "Baka deshi! What do you mean 'what is it'? Haven't you ever seen a dragon before?"
Kenshin shook his head, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "Gomen Shishou, I've heard of them from stories, but I've never seen what one looks like." He glanced back at the urn, studying the serpentine figure. "So pretty..." he murmured softly, his eyes bright with admiration.
Hiko sighed. He forgot occasionally, how deprived the boy had been. As either a simple peasant from a poor village, or as a slave, he was most likely never exposed to fine art of any kind.
The swordsman rose to his feet, surprisingly graceful for such a large man, and started inside to put the urn up so it could finish drying. "Well, now you know," he declared brusquely. "Be grateful that your first viewing was due to my own artistic genius."
"Hai!" the student obediently replied, rolling his eyes at his master's conceited declaration, and followed the older man into the hut.
During dinner, Hiko noticed Kenshin's eyes kept wandering back to the colorful urn sitting on a nearby desk. It seemed to hold some sort of fascination for him.
"Shishou?"
"What is it, baka?"
The boy's gaze was still on the urn. "It's not a commissioned piece is it?" he asked tentatively.
Hiko blinked, somewhat puzzled by the unexpected question. "No. Why would you want to know that?"
Kenshin looked relieved. "Then you won't sell it?"
Understanding now, his master smirked slightly as he shook his head. "I won't sell it."
"Arigatou, Shishou."
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Absently, Hiko's fingers lightly traced along the dragon's profile, feeling the faintly coarse texture of long dried paint. Of all the pieces that Hiko had created during Kenshin's time there, the boy had always loved this one the most. It seemed only appropriate, that this particular urn be used as a resting place for his deshi's remains.
After wrapping the container in a soft cloth, he tucked in carefully under his arm and swiftly left the cabin to confront the Ishin Shishi commander.
Hiko met Katsura's questioning look with a defiant glare.
"My decision? I'm going to Kyoto with you, and I'm bringing my deshi home."
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I was going to post this at the same time as the first chapter, but I decided it needed a little tweaking.
Oh my goodness! I actually got a couple of reviews already! I'm so happy!
Nekotsuki: Thank you so much! I am truly honored to have an author of your caliber actually enjoy my story so far. I will try not to disappoint. Yes, Kenshin may have actually killed himself, but don't worry, Kenshin will make an 'appearance' at some point. I have plans…hehe…
Sailor-Earth13: Thank you for your review! I am glad you like it so far. It is sad for now, but after the first few chapters, the mood should hopefully improve.
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Glossary of terms:
gomen-nasai – I'm sorry
Kami-sama – God
Arigatou – Thank you
Sayonara – farewell (as in "goodbye forever" or for a long time)
Seppuku – disembowelment, Japanese ritual suicide, performed by cutting open the abdomen with a knife. (very painful! In a formal ceremony, after the guy cuts himself, another person beheads him quickly to avoid prolonged suffering.)
face-fault – something you see in anime or manga, where someone just suddenly falls down on the ground when shocked or surprised
Hai - yes