Chapter 28

His Last Words

The messenger came in the dead of the night. His insistent knocking woke the entire household. Ai feared something had happened to her mother and so was half-relieved and half-worried when the message turned out to be for Sanosuke. The tall man read the succinct missive and without waiting for assistance, dressed himself up and saddled a horse. He assured the family that there was nothing to worry about but that he needed to make it back to the mansion post haste.

Sanosuke reached the gates as the sun rose on the horizon, blanketed by a heavy layer of grey clouds, the same clouds that had pelted him all night with heavy rain. These events weren't unfolding like Yumiko and he had planned. They had agreed that Sanosuke should be around when Kenji finally received the letters from his father. He had thought the young man too preoccupied by Sakurako to think of Kenshin. He had been wrong. He made straight to the stable, and, after entrusting his horse to a startled stable hand, he headed for Yumiko's house in search of the boy.

"Kenji!"

The door rattled as he pushed it open. He stepped in the entrance and, leaning on his knees to avoid having to unlace his boots, he peeked into the main room. The irori had long gone out. Beside it, the ledger and Kenji's disturbed futon lay in the empty room.

"Kenji?" he called again.

Silence. Where was that boy?

Kenji sat on the swing under the old oak tree. Sakurako and he had had their first real talk here. Back then, of course, the leaves had been a lush green, but now they were a vivid shade of red. A leaf tumbled down and fell in his lap. He picked it up. It was as scarlet at his sister's hair. As scarlet as his own hair. It was as red as his father's hair. He suddenly felt really aware of the soft paper against the skin of his chest in his hakamashita.

He'd spent the night tossing and turning, reaching for the letters countless times but finding himself unable to open them. He simply lacked the courage to do so. Yumiko's letters from his father had been filled with plenty of new information, but they'd been meant for her, not him. These two letters were different. They were addressed to him. Kenji had realised that he had never had the chance to discuss with his father man to man. Kenshin had been away most of the time and when he'd been around, Kenji had made any communication impossible. True, most of his friends' fathers hadn't been the talkative type either, but he had always felt that his father had wanted to build a connection with him. Of course, he had rebelled at the very thought of it, but now, he didn't know if he could handle the content of these letters. What if they made him see the relationship that could have been? Would he be able to handle the regret that might come with this revelation? Kenji closed his eyes and shivered. He should've taken a jacket.

The sound of wet footsteps brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes in time to see, with surprise, a weary Sanosuke close the distance between them.

"There you are," he said, slightly out of breath.

"You're already back? I thought you were…" he didn't finish his sentence. Had Yumiko informed Sanosuke that she had entrusted him with the letters? If that was the case, his friend had known more than he had let on all along.

Sanosuke leaned against the trunk of the tree.

"I see you've found Kenshin's tree," he joked, plucking a red leaf from a low branch and twirling it between his fingers.

Kenji nodded. Yes, this oak definitely was like his father. It stood alone, towering above them, quietly keeping guard as its roots dug deep in the ground, invisible and unfathomable.

"Did you…?" asked Sanosuke.

So the man did know. Kenji shook his head.

"I just can't… I assume you've seen the rest?" he asked, coldly.

Sanosuke nodded.

"Yumiko showed me everything first. She cares about you a lot, and so do I. She wanted to be sure you could handle it. But these last two, the ones addressed to you, she hasn't opened them. I haven't seen them, either. They are for you."

Kenji kicked the ground and swung back and forth on the swing in silence for a moment. In the distance, the sound of sheep bleating could be heard.

"Is this why she sent for you? Because she thought I might need you to handle my father's words?" he asked, in a chilly tone.

Sanosuke shrugged.

"Yes. We both thought that it would be best if I were around, in case you needed me."

"You've been more of a father to me in this last year that he has in all those years," spat Kenji. He could feel the familiar ball of anger rising in the pit of his stomach

Sanosuke kept his peace. The young man jumped off the swing, fished the letters out of his clothes and brandished them at Sanosuke.

"What am I supposed to do with this? Am I to forgive everything? Is this how he intends to be redeemed, with some words, casually written?"

Sanosuke took Kenji's place on the swing.

"I know of his past now; am I supposed to take his unfounded fears as an apology? To understand him through and through and move on?"

Kenji's voice boomed in the open field. His cheeks reddened by his fit of rage burned hot. His shortness of breath made him slightly dizzy.

"You're afraid," said Sanosuke, quietly.

"What?"

Sanosuke swung back and forth.

"You're afraid," he calmly repeated.

"I'm not afraid!" yelled Kenji.

Sanosuke immobilised the swing and stared the young man in the eyes.

"You are afraid."

"I AM NOT!"

Sanosuke got up.

"What are you waiting for, then?" he casually asked.

Kenji stared at the crumpled envelopes in his hands. He took a deep breath. He was afraid. He looked up at Sanosuke.

"Maybe you could read them to me…?" he felt panic rising in his chest.

The older man shook his head.

"These are for you. I will leave you to it."

Sanosuke took a few steps. He wanted nothing more than to hug the boy and assuage his fears. He turned around.

"I will be waiting at Yumiko's house. Come if you need me."

Without another word, he turned around and walked away. Fingers trembling, Kenji opened the first letter.

Ken-chan

As I write this, you are fast asleep in my lap. Tomorrow I am leaving to go far, far away from you. I can't say how long I will be gone. I simply don't know. You won't understand why I am gone. You will cry, but it will pass. You will miss me, but this will pass, too. If I am gone too long, you will grow to resent me, maybe even hate me. This will not pass.

But right now, you breathe softly against me, your little hand clutching my hakama. Right now, you love me like I never believe I could ever be loved. In all my life, I never dared to wish for something so beautiful yet here you are. Leaving you is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. I am sorry for the hardship and pain that will indubitably come.

I do not ask for your forgiveness; I know I am undeserving.

But for now, you are asleep in my lap.

For now, I am still your hero.

For now, you are the entire world.

Oton

Tokyo

Kenji's chest hurt. It was as if the heavy weight in the pit of his stomach was about to take him down. He remembered that day. He remembered sitting with his father as the man took care of some correspondence or other. He remember his own hands, tracing characters on paper, patiently waiting for his father to be done with his task. A small blot of ink on the side of the page reminded him of splattering ink by accident. Kenshin hadn't gotten angry. He remembered, tired of waiting, climbing in his father's lap and falling asleep. His father's words were simple, but they conveyed his feelings better than anything else. Kenji couldn't ignore the blurred characters here and there. His father had been crying as he'd written these words. Kenji felt his eyes prickle. The poem… Had his father meant it as an addition the his beloved uta garuta game? He took a deep breath and opened the second letter.

Kenji covered his face with his hands and crouched down. His heart would surely burst. Burning tears streamed from his eyes uncontrollably. He sobbed loudly. He hid his face in his forearm.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Oton," he mumbled over and over like a litany.

A series of sobs wracked his body, forcing him to his knees. He leaned forward with a wail, hands clutching at the earth. Unfolded on the wet grass lay Kenshin's last words to him. Its single shaky line carried all the love of a father to his son.

Kenji,

I am so proud of you.

Oton