Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin (C) characters belong to Watsuki Nobuhiro (All Hail), Shueisha, Sony Entertainment and perhaps some others but most definitely not to me. I am borrowing characters without asking permission and I am not making any money out of this. Also I am not worth suing as I am a broke student.
I hope anyone who takes the time to read this will enjoy it.

Huge thanks to Sylvia for reading it through and for loaning me the Manga so that I could see what was happening even if I couldn't read it. General huge thanks to everyone who puts out summaries and translations of the Manga. Now if it would come out printed in English in Australia I would be happy!

Spoilers for the Kyoto Arc from the Manga episodes 84, 85, 94, 95, 96, 97. (Although I think just about everyone already knows what happened then!) Hiko's training of Kenshin. That's basically what the spoiler is. Of course there are bits which I have added! ^_^ Slight Revenge Arc spoiler. A name and an implication.
 


Heaven's Sword, Spirit's Heart

By Jade One


 

Pathetic. Hiko Seijuro turned away from his student, sensing him revert to the Rurouni from the Hitokiri Battousai. "Take one night. Until morning, search your heart and find the part of you that you lack. If you can't do that, in mastering the ultimate technique, you really will be throwing away your life." I thought I taught him better than this. Still, this will force the choice to be made... 

Hiko returned to his house and sighed. While his baka deshi was like this there was no point in passing on the technique. And for a student who had learned so well in the past the gift of a night was acceptable. The technique, if learnt was the ultimate technique but both Master and Deshi had to be prepared. Hiko ate a light meal before settling down to wait for the night to pass. He slowly sipped his sake.

Nineteen years ago. It had all begun nineteen years ago. The journey to this night.

He hadn't stopped here before, but the shop looked clean enough and their prices were reasonable. Then he remembered. He had been in this area about a week ago. A memory of red hair and violet eyes That boy... The least I can do is check that he got here.
    The shop keeper returned, carrying a jar of sake. There was no need to look for someone who would be able to answer his questions. Shop keepers as a rule had to know what was happening and what had happened in the vacinity of their stores or they would never survive.

Ara? "He didn't come this way?"

"Not so much as a cat's been to the village, much less a boy."

He thanked the man, paying for his sake, turning away and leaving the village. He had no reason to stay here and he did have something he could do. Did he despair of the world and commit suicide?... But that happens often too. Even wielding a blade, following the precepts of the Hiten Mitsurugi school, in the end I couldn't save anyone. It's happened so many times. An age warped more towards madness with each passing day, infested with villains that I kill and kill like flies.

His sword had shone silver, tracing the arc. Four men fell to the ground. They were worthless. He owed them no mercy. He had continued forward, his sword swung in the practised arcs of his technique. This was the only thing he could do for the people to help them in this world but he knew that this lot would not be the last. These were probably just the beginning. Worthless, honorless men who prayed on those who had no one to defend them, except me. He sighed. It will only get worse from now on. The only thing I can really do is lay the victims' body to rest...
    He had taken the path that would take him to the site of the battle from a week ago. Not that from his point of view it could be called a battle. The bandits hadn't even been light exercise. But it was all he could do.

Nani...? A week had passed since he had been here. This clearing was out of the way, but the soil was over turned into small mounds and was covered by crosses. Roughly made but their meaning was obvious. The only other living person who knew of this fight, who knew of the mess, was the child and they couldn't, wouldn't have done this, would they? So who had buried the corpses?

It was then that he felt them.

The sense of another living being, the boy.

The child stood in the centre of the clearing, in much the same position he had left him. Three stones were before him. Graves but for who? His family? He walked through the crosses coming to a stop behind the boy. He didn't move.

"You dug graves not just for your parents but for the bandits too?"

The boy responded in a tired voice, one that was light but sad. "They weren't my parents. They were slavers. My parents died last year of cholera. But even bandits and slavers are only bodies when they die... so I made them graves."

Ano? He had dug them all graves? Perhaps... perhaps this boy would be the one... He had seen the boy's hands then. They were covered in dirt and small scratches. He had used the only tools he had available to him. It must have hurt terribly. The boy had known death but still held compassion. That was good.

"These three stones?"

"Miss Kasumi, Miss Akane and Miss Sakura. They were taken from their families because of debts. I only met them the day before, but I was the only boy and we didn't have any parents. I thought even if it cost me my life, I had to protect them." His voice was again soft. But Hiko had heard a note of determination in it that he had rarely seen, even in adults. The boy was more than he looked. But to sacrifice himself like that..?

"But..."

"I looked for good stones for their graves but these were the only ones I could find. I looked for flowers too, but I couldn't find any..." the boy continued as if Hiko had said nothing.

He is the one. He will inherit all that I have to teach. He was so young but yet... There is something so serious about this boy, something adult, a depth of understanding about life that few reach in a lifetime.

Hiko stepped forward. His face was grave. He reached for the sake's cork and began pouring it over the stones. If he remembered and understood the boy correctly, these graves were for the women who had been begging the bandits to spare the boy. They had been trying to protect him and he in turn had stayed with their bodies ensuring that their rest would be as peaceful as he could grant. Yes, this boy is definitely the one. But those who had tried to protect him deserve their due respect.

"Man or woman, it would be a shame to attain Buddha hood without knowing the taste of good sake. It's an offering from me," he told the boy as he turned his violet gaze on him curiously. Ano? I can't just call him the boy. "What's your name, boy?"

"Shinta..." came the response. The boy was obviously wondering why he had asked and probably didn't know what to do.

"That's no name for a swordsman. From now on, you're called Kenshin." He had looked down at the child, seeing his eyes, curious, surprised and despite the pain he must have felt in his short life, still capable of compassion, of love. Yes, with training the name will be appropriate and Kenshin will grow strong to protect others who needed it. I hope he'll grow. He'll need to. He doesn't even reach my waist. "I'll teach you all I know." They stood together in the setting sun, their forms casting long shadows.

Hiko sipped his sake. "That was nineteen years ago... and now, whether he masters the technique or not, he'll say farewell to this life tomorrow..." It was the way of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.
 

The night passed and the dawn broke. Master and student of the sword faced each other, both looking the worse for wear after their respective nights lack of sleep. Each of them noted the others fatigue.

"You look like you didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

"So do you."

A leaf flickered between them in the silence and an agreement was reached. They moved to water trough. This training was too important for either to be fatigued. Che! The water's cold!

They stood backs to each other.

"So... did you discover what it is you lack?" The question had to be asked, although Hiko doubted his deshi had found his answer yet.

"No..."

Not yet, but there is still time for answer to be found. And either he will or he will die.

"I see. So after all, you are a man with limits here. You did not find what you lack. Incomplete as you are, mastering the succession technique or defeating the Shishio faction is meaningless." He reached to his shoulders, removing his cloak, letting the weighted cloth fall to the ground. There would be no holding back now. "Even if you devoted yourself to defeating them, you could not defeat the Hitokiri who lives in your heart. Tormented by anguish and pain your whole life, you'd kill. Instead of the succession technique, prepare for the worst. My final duty as your master." The only mercy I can grant you, Shinta.

He swung his sword, freed from restraint. Kenshin felt the force of the blow despite the distance. A furrow was gouged in the ground and the mantle went flying, over his deshi's head. Kenshin noted the clang as it hit the ground and the metal parts within it. He always did notice the smallest things.

"A white cloak set with springs opposing the muscles and 10 kan (37.5 kg, about 80 pounds) of shoulder weights." He stepped over the furrow his sword had made. "It's been used by those who hold the name of Hiko Seijuro to restrain the inheritor of the Hiten Mitsurugi's power in times of peace. Prepare yourself, Kenshin." No mercy. It is the way of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. Either he will master the technique or not. Just as it was for me... just as it has always been. He narrowed his eyes, projecting his killing ki.

    He looks surprised, afraid. This is the first time he has seen me. His hand is shaking. Good. He has all the ability to master the technique, if he can recognize and act upon the last requirement. He has the desire, the reason, all that remains is to see if he can make the connection.

Kenshin clenched his hand into a fist, sweet beading on his face as he saw his Master walk towards him. His eyes narrowed, determined but still lacking the resolve that would be reflected if he had recognized the final power that was inherent in all warriors.

There is no other way. "Let's go." Either way the Hitokiri Battousai dies here even if Himura Kenshin does not survive. It is the way of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and it is a final mercy...
    "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Kuzu Ryu Sen." The nine headed dragon.

Hiko saw Kenshin's eyes snap open. He knew what his deshi was seeing. The nine heads of the dragon and the tenth point of death.

Hiko barred his teeth and growled, intent only on hitting his deshi with the full force of his attack. No hatred. No mercy. Only nine strikes to the body to be delivered at once.

He saw his deshi's eyes open wider, his iris's wide and his own teeth bared and almost smiled, even as his deshi twisted, reaching for his blade. Heh! I'm as good a teacher as I thought I was.

The impact slammed into the ground echoing outwards, rising dust. He did it. The leaves fell around them.

"That's it..." He could feel his deshi's surprise, hear the rustle of fabric as Kenshin turned to regard his back. "That's good." His strike had been perfect. "You who killed and stole many lives held remorse and a sense of guilt. You thought nothing of your own life. You hid the fact that yours too is just another human life." Hiko stood, relaxing his stand. "This held back your own strength. That was how you allowed the Hitokiri to build a nest in your heart. When you surmounted this, you discovered in between life and death the will to live you lacked."

He sighed, turning to face his student even as he felt his shirt part along the path of the Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki.

"With the Buddha's benevolence you sacrificed yourself to protect the weak and those you loved. Left in sadness, they could not truly be happy." He looks worried. "In the dangers of the age, in the passion of violence, quietly laying down your life is utterly insignificant in the ever- flowing passage of time. There is nothing stronger than the will to live... Never forget that." He relaxed his eyes. There was no need to continue to regard his deshi as an enemy. He did it. I'm so proud. Himura Kenshin survives. "You'll be able to use the Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki freely and well." The Hitokiri Battousai is dead. My deshi, my son, Kenshin survives. Hiko smiled at his deshi. "You won't lose to the Shishio faction or even to the Hitokiri inside you."

"Master."

Hiko smiled, closing his eyes. I guess Kamiya will be happy. His smile widened at the memory.

"Maybe it was a mistake to teach you the Hiten Mitsurugi at all." The brat's had burst in at that point. He had sensed people outside but since they were not any threat he had ignored them continuing to berate his student, loudly. Perhaps he had been curious to see what they would do. People usually didn't wander around his part of the mountain unless they had some business with him.

"What was that just now?!"

"Who are you?" Well, I'm right as usual. They are no threat but who are they and what do they want? He kept his facial expression bored noting the surprise on his deshi's face, listening as he introduced the young brats who had so momentously entered.

"Misao-dono. Yahiko..." First names? A third figure appeared and it was then that his deshi's expression became truly surprised. The woman was slightly shorter than Kenshin. Her long hair was confined and she stood in the centre of the door with her hands folded before her. She was beautiful, in an innocent way. Her eyes looked to Kenshin and held only hope and an anguish brought by separation.

"Kaoru-dono..." His deshi whispered, surprise on his face but a warmth in his heart.

He had looked so pole axed. She will be good for him, especially after... Tomoe...

He looks worried now, frightened and worried. "Don't worry. It is the destiny of the master and student of the sword in the passing down of the Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki. Don't think of it as breaking your vow..." He gasped, breaking off as his chest exploded into pain. The full extend of the attacks power was illustrated on his body.

"Master!!!" The voice was anguished.

"Eergh!" Hiko tensed. A little longer. I have to hold on a little longer, pass on the final instructions... "The Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki is the strongest technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi school." Hurts. Hiko opened his eyes, regarding his newly graduated student. No hatred showed in his eyes, just pride. "You master it in exchange for the life of your predecessor. As master and student of the sword, all I've taught you ends here." Che. Argh. Hurts. Hiko blinked. I guess I know what my Shishou felt now. "After this, as a vagabond, you'll..."

Hiko's breath escaped as he lost his battle against his damaged body, falling forwards. His last task in passing on the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu technique was completed.

"SHISHOU!!!"

"Shishou!" The word was the last thing Hiko Seijuro could remember. It had been anguished, full of grief and disbelief. Hiko felt his body. There were various small aches which came from falling flat on your face but the most pain came from his chest. Pain?... Did the dead feel pain? Am I dead? My deshi is the only being who could muck up the Ogui so much that it is not fatal.
    Hiko rolled over and sat up. Being sprawled on the ground was not a dignified position for the Master of Hiten Mitsurugi to be in. Dead or alive. It was then that he saw his surroundings. Well, I guess that answers that question he thought, bringing his hand to his chest, tentatively feeling the wound his deshi had inflicted. The wound was vicious, a huge slash running diagonally from hip to shoulder but that was what the Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki was supposed to do. It was designed so that no one got up after being hit with it. Well at least he learnt it. The pain was fading. But this isn't what I expected of death.
    Hiko smirked. He could almost hear his Shishou's voice, "The attack you expect and block is not always the attack which arrives. So is it with life, deshi."

The world was white. Not blindingly white but a soft misty white which completely surrounded him. He seemed to be sitting, which at least provided some bearing for him but he had the oddest feeling that the floor, such as it was, was an adaptation created by his mind to provide him with some point of stability. The familiar weight of his sword was at his waist. Ano?... His sword hadn't been there an instant ago. Yet even as he watched a familiar pile of fabric coalesced out of the mist. A white cape, lined in red and weighted for the protection for the people. I guess my self image is formed completely by my expectations here. Hiko reached out taking up his cloak and swinging its accustomed weight on to his shoulders, using the movement to stand. Given that both his sword and cloak had appeared, it was probably time to move on through this world.

As he stood, the pain in his chest completely disappeared. He looked down and saw that the wound was gone. His shirt too was whole. Well this world has its ups and downs. As the thirteenth Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu I have no wish to look like a ruffian, even if I am dead. I have a reputation to uphold and my Shishou would probably kill me himself if he saw me. Demo... The world looked so boring and empty.

He sighed. That his genius should come to this! There seemed to be no one and nothing here that he could pick a fight with. Hiko looked around but the view was the same in all directions. Randomly picking a direction he began walking. Still even if there was anything in this mist, he doubted that it would provide much of a challenge to him and his skills. Death was the price demanded of teaching the ultimate technique to your successor but it was one he had been prepared to pay.

It was Kenshin's time to carry on the school.
 
End Part one