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*a Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes
only. Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobohiro Watsuki.
Any weakling in the world
will fight in a minute if he gets excited, but when it comes to actually
taking up arms and seeking to do battle, this is being possessed by energy-
when this energy wanes they will stop, get frightened, and feel regret.
Kenshin stretched and put
his pen down, resting his chin in his hand. Across the room, Hiko
was sharpening his katana. He manipulated the blade with such dexterity
and skill that Kenshin could only stare, fascinated. Hiko's large
hands had a craftsman's sensitive touch- a little here, a little there,
and soon the sword would be honed to deadly perfection.
Kenshin sighed and looked
down at the passage he had just copied from "The Art of War." He
knew Hara had chosen the lesson carefully, as a warning against acting
precipitously in his confrontation with his master. Kenshin was not afraid
of Hiko, but the thought of putting forth all his strength and losing easily,
pathetically, was terrifying. His eyes narrowed as they focused on
his master's hands again. How could he defeat Hiko? He had
turned the question over in his mind a hundred times in the last three
weeks, but still had no idea how to proceed. He sighed again.
"Stop that. It's very
annoying."
"Oro?"
Hiko's gaze remained firmly
fixed on the sword in his hands. "Stop sighing every five minutes.
It's irritating. What are you doing that's so difficult, anyway?"
Kenshin tried to sound nonchalant.
"Just copying a lesson... and trying to figure out what my greatest strengths
are as a fighter." He let the sentence dangle between a statement
and a question, hoping his master would take the bait.
Hiko snorted. "That
shouldn't occupy you very long." He looked up, saw Kenshin's eyes
resting on the katana. "Oh, I see. This is what you want.
Well, good luck." He began polishing the blade, taking no more notice
of his pupil.
Kenshin closed his eyes,
silently cursing himself. Hiko was far too cunning to give him any
clues, and he had only revealed his own insecurity by asking. Pushing
the pen and paper aside, he rose and paced around the small room, finally
pausing at the door.
Snow had fallen the night
before and a few flakes still drifted through the morning air, carried
on a crisp breeze. Kenshin walked outside, quickly closing the door
behind him. Alone. Once he had always felt alone, had been
afraid of being abandoned. He smiled slightly at the irony.
Now he could never call a moment his own, could never find respite from
Hiko's sarcastic comments and judging eyes. Except here, in the brightness
of a snowy morning, when he could breathe the cold air and be himself,
not just Hiko's baka deshi. A hawk made slow circles in the sky,
and his gaze followed its flight.
A snowflake hit his cheek,
burned into it like a glowing ember. We were ourselves again yesterday,
if only for a little while... The words seemed to come from the edge
of the clearing, carried on the wind.
"Is someone there?"
A memory began to form, still tenuous and unsteady, and an odd uneasiness
spread over him. Kenshin looked around frantically at the familiar
yet suddenly quiet world. The hut stood behind him, glistening in
the snow. But the hawk no longer flew above, and the sun had a shining
rim around it that seemed to spin before his eyes. He rubbed them
with a shaking hand.
A voice, weary yet amused,
whispered in his ear, "Watch out for that little oni inside you, or he'll
get you in more trouble than this someday."
"No!" Kenshin shook
his head, sweat dripping from his hair and steaming on the snow.
His legs trembled, yet he was pulled inexorably towards the woods, drawn
by the voice he couldn't escape. He knew what he would find before
he saw it, but he had no power to turn away.
A boy lay at the edge of
the trees, his long, dark hair pooling around his shoulders like blood.
His head was turned partly away from Kenshin, yet he knew the features
instantly, recognized them as easily as he would his own. It was
the most beautiful face he had ever seen, and the most peaceful.
"Seiji..."
When we are dead, do you
think they will bury us?
"Seiji!" Kenshin stumbled
forward, reaching out for the boy, for the hand he knew would be colder
than snow.
"What are you screaming about,
you idiot?"
Kenshin spun around and fell
backwards, his hand plunging into a snowdrift. Hiko stood above him,
hands on hips, glaring. In a world that was suddenly alive again
Kenshin heard the cry of the hawk high above, punctuating his own ragged
breathing. "I..." He scrambled up, searching
for the boy. The sunlight through the empty branches cast long
shadows on the snow, like strands of night-dark hair. "I..."
Kenshin closed his eyes, tried to stay calm. "I'm sorry. I
don't feel very well."
Hiko regarded him keenly.
"Are you sick?"
"No. No, I'm all right."
He was still trembling, but he took a deep breath and met Hiko's gaze squarely.
"I'm fine."
"I just built up the fire.
You should go get warm."
We were ourselves again yesterday,
if only for a little while...
"That's probably a good idea,"
Kenshin said, but he made no move to go. "I'll be along in a minute."
Hiko shrugged. "As
you wish." He started to leave, then turned back. "Kenshin...
who's Seiji?"
"Someone... I knew once."
"Ahh." Kenshin could
tell Hiko was waiting for more.
"That's all," he said firmly.
"Just a boy I knew before I met you. He died on a day like this..."
Kenshin's voice trailed away. He waited for Hiko's derision, to be
mocked for his sentimentality.
"It wasn't your fault," Hiko
said gently.
"What?" Kenshin's head
jerked up, but his master was already walking back towards the hut.
"I said, 'Stop standing in
the snow like an idiot, feeling sorry for yourself!'" Hiko tossed
the words over his shoulder, never breaking his stride.
The snow. Kenshin knelt,
traced his finger through the icy crystals, lost in a past that was suddenly
too vivid. He heard Seiji's words again, but this time he knew they
were only a memory. We were ourselves again... we were ourselves
again...
"Even though you died, Seiji-kun,"
he whispered, "you were strongest person I knew." The realization
startled him, challenged him with its implications. His hands closed
around the snow, forming fists, but he didn't feel its coldness.
"If I can remember your strength, maybe I can find hope for myself."
Kenshin jumped up with new determination, but as he walked back to the
hut his mind was far away, traveling down the icy road of his memories.
"Kenshin!" Hiko stepped
out into the cold morning air, glancing around the clearing for some sign
of his pupil. Small footprints in the snow led toward the edge of
the woods. He sighed and followed their trail, throwing his manto
around his shoulders as he went. "Kenshin!" he called as he walked.
"I want you to go into town for supplies! Get over here now!"
The footprints led to the line of trees where he had found the boy the
day before. Hiko hoped his pupil's strange behavior was not going
to become a regular part of their schedule.
"Here, Master." Kenshin
stood with his back against a tree, almost invisible in his brown cloak.
Hiko could see the pommel of a katana hidden within its folds.
"So," he said softly, "you
knew I wanted you to go into Kyoto this morning, and yet I find you here,
waiting for me. I wonder," he cocked his head, looked at his student
appraisingly, "if you are going to give me that sword before you leave?"
"I am not." The hard
expression in Kenshin's eyes softened a little as they met Hiko's, but
his voice remained firm. "I'm sorry, Master." He bowed slightly.
Hiko studied his pupil's
face, noting with interest the determined set of his mouth. Something
had changed drastically since the day before. Their game had suddenly become
serious. And potentially deadly. Hiko could feel his pupil's
fighting spirit like sparks of lightning in the air. He loved it.
"What will you do, Kenshin?" he asked as he closed on the boy.
Kenshin stood his ground
as Hiko approached, shifting slightly against the tree. Its sturdiness
reassured him. "Whatever I must."
Hiko stopped an arm's length
in front of him. "Give me the sword. Last chance."
"No." Kenshin struck
out with his right fist, but Hiko caught his wrist before his punch even
connected. Even though he was expecting it, the look of disgust that
crossed his master's face hurt him more than a physical blow. The
electricity in the air instantly vanished, leaving a vacuum between them.
"That! The same attack
again, and even more pathetic than last time?" Hiko twisted Kenshin's
arm for emphasis. "Fine. I invite you to break my grip.
Please feel free to try."
Kenshin looked up at Hiko,
wincing a little at the pain in his arm. "I'm sorry, Master," he said softly.
"I have to fight you in my own way, not in yours." He wrapped his
left arm around the tree and sank to the ground, the snow forming mounds
around his legs.
Hiko stared down at his pupil,
who sat as still and rigid as a statue. For a moment he was speechless,
as Kenshin's intent became clear to them. Then he smiled. "So
be it. A battle of wills, then. But you will get cold and tired
long before I do. Are you sure you have considered
all the ramifications of this ridiculous strategy?"
"I think so, Master.
I have considered my opponent, pondered what he would and would not do."
Kenshin glanced up at Hiko and some of the tension drained from his face.
He smiled slightly, even though he was beginning to shiver from the cold.
"I have considered the terrain." He nodded toward the tree and the
banks of snow that surrounded them. "And I've considered myself,"
he concluded. "All the things Hara-sama told me to think about.
So what else can I do?"
"You've considered your opponent,
you say? What if I decide to tear you off that tree? I could,
you know."
"You'll pull my arm out of
its socket before I release the tree."
Hiko's free hand formed a
fist. "I could punch your troublesome little face until you let go,"
he suggested.
Kenshin chuckled and shook
his head.
Hiko laughed, unclenching
his fist. "You must be growing up," he said. "You're not easy
to intimidate anymore! That's good!"
The unexpected praise surprised
Kenshin, leaving him unprepared for the wave of pain that suddenly enveloped
him. Without warning, Hiko stretched his captive arm to the limits
of endurance, stopping just short of tearing muscles. Kenshin gasped,
clenching his teeth, and grasped the tree more tightly.
Hiko was no longer laughing.
"Don't let you guard down just because someone flatters you, stupid."
Kenshin nodded, closing his
eyes. The pain in his arm was considerable, but bearable. It
was to be expected. He knew Hiko would show no mercy in trying to
break his resolve. Without opening his eyes, Kenshin could picture
his master standing above him, patient and relentless. He shivered
as snow melted against his legs, sending prickles of heat through them.
Something else to worry about, but he had considered that, too. He
rested his forehead against the tree trunk, his teeth set. It was too late
to stop, get frightened, or feel regret. He had chosen the battlefield
and the method of combat. Now the only variable remaining was his
own strength. Could he hold out long enough to win? "Help me,
Seiji," Kenshin whispered. "Don't abandon me now."
End of Part 2
baka deshi= stupid student
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