Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ —¤: Boy meets dad :¤— ❯ Challenges & Random Conversations ( Chapter 12 )

Must I put a disclaimer on every chapter? What if I forget? It's not as if anyone's going to believe I truly own Kenshin anyway. :P

 

 

 

 

 

- CHAPTER 12 -

 

“I win again, Kenji-chan.” Kenshin said nonchalantly.

 

“No fair! You cheated! I want a rematch, Kenshin!”

 

“Whatever you say, Kenji-chan.”

 

“And stop calling me little!”

 

“If you insist on calling me plain “Kenshin” then I think I can call you “-chan”, can I not?”

 

Kenji huffed and readied to challenge the hitokiri again.

 

Normal people hearing their conversation would assume that the two redheads were engaged in some kind of deathmatch, especially if they happened to see the identical set of faces, which were scrunched in concentration, their bodies tense and alert.

 

As beads of perspiration trickled down their foreheads, birds chirped outside the serenity of the inn, leaves rustled together with the blowing of the wind, father and son called upon the teachings of the Hiten Mitsurugi style… “One, two, three, go!!!”

 

Releasing their grips, after pulling on the strings, they waited with bated breath, as seconds turned into minutes and seemed to stretch into eternity.

 

Kenshin couldn't help but feel amused by the way Kenji was taking this far too seriously.

 

Since his son didn't seem like someone who was used to losing, Kenshin didn't even feel the slightest bit bad when his top began to wobble and eventually stopped spinning entirely, while Kenji's remained spinning.

 

Kenji pumped his right hand into the air and his scream could be heard throughout the solitude of the secluded inn. “Hell yeah! Can I have an oro?”

 

“Oro?”

 

“Take that Battoussai the Manslayer! You've finally met your match! Ha!” Exclaimed Kenji victoriously, feeling like he just won the battle of Toba Fushimi. He was having the time of his life, even if they were laying low.

 

`Laying low' meant doing nothing except stay in the confines of the inn for both Kenji and Kenshin, so they had to resort to entertaining each other with stories about each other's lives, often practicing swords against each other (one which the Battoussai immensely enjoyed but will never admit to anyone), and their newest past-time - playing with tops.

 

It was a special day however, because for the first time since they started their game, Kenji was finally able to beat Kenshin.

 

As Kenji went into a chorus of victory dances and shouts, the young hitokiri could only shake his head, highly entertained by his son's antics.

 

“I think you exaggerate too much.” One defeat did not mean that they were now equal in top-spinning abilities. Sometimes, Kenji was far too competitive for his own sake.

 

“I don't exaggerate, I just think big.”

 

The Battoussai just sighed in response. Kenji seemed to enjoy sassing him a lot, probably making up for lost time. His experience as a hitokiri gave him no help with dealing with the likes of this Kenji Himura. During the days they've spent together, he surmised that Kenji basked in this friendly rivalry he tried to set up between the two of them. Somehow, they managed to develop a father-son-brother kind of relationship.

 

……

 

It was another normal day at the Kohagi inn.

 

“Hurry up, Kenshin!” Kenji pounded on Kenshin's door impatiently. It was the seventh day of their self-imposed captivity and Kenji was getting antsier by the day.

 

Once again, Kenshin found himself shaking his head at the older boy's impatience as he opened the door and looked at the face that mirrored his own. “Can you not think of any other name to call me aside from plain “Kenshin”? It borders on disrespectful, considering.”

 

Not moving from his spot, which was blocking the exit and entrance to the room, Kenji seemed to consider this for a moment. “Okay, what would you like me to call you then?” He said and rested his thumb and forefinger beneath his chin and looked deep in thought as he stared at a spot on the ceiling above them. “How about… Kenshin-dono?”

 

“…”

 

“Mr. De Gozaru Yo?”

 

“…”

 

“Oro-sama?”

 

“…”

 

“Samonosuke?”

 

“???”

 

“Baka deshi? Ken-san? Himura?” Kenji counted the names off from memory and then considered the last choice for a bit before he shook his head. “Nah, that'd be too weird. How about… Sessha?” He said, all the “s” letters in the word gliding smoothly from his tongue in a prolonged manner.

 

The Battoussai's forehead wrinkled at the suggestions. “Where did you get all those names from?”

 

“You somehow develop a liking for the “-dono” honorific as well as the “oro” word and practically end most of your sentences with “de gozaru” in the future, that you do.” Kenji nodded knowingly, information like this he had gathered from family friends and neighbors. “The others are some of the names your friends call you.” Kenji said, adapting an ever-so-polite tone.

 

Kenshin looked more than skeptical, there was a definite arc to his right brow. “Samonosuke?”

 

“Long story, don't ask.”

 

Deciding not to press it any further, the Battoussai asked, “And what does your mother call me?” His eyes softening a bit.

 

Kenji sniggered. “Kenshin no baka.”

 

Kenshin blinked. “Excuse me?”

 

“Kenshin no baka,” Kenji repeated, nodding his head once more for emphasis. “That's what she liked to call you a lot.”

 

What kind of woman do I marry? Poor Kenshin thought as his eyes glazed over, imagining some kind of amazon woman with a mean right hook and one who called him `baka'.

 

Kenji pounded his hand on Kenshin's back, snapping the latter out of his stupor. “She's just kidding you know… but… you really are a baka sometimes. She probably calls you `koiishi' as well, not that I should know because I really don't spend time imagining what my parents do together.” Kenji made a disgusted face and shuddered. “That's one mental picture I don't need, you know?” Not giving Kenshin the chance to reply, he turned around and headed downstairs. “Let's go!”

 

Today they decided to train in the neighboring forest, and Kenji could hardly wait.

 

……

 

Later that day, exhausted from their sparring, the older Himura called a halt to their practice. “You're getting better.”

 

“…”

 

“Not that you were bad in the first place, just a bit unpolished in my opinion. Maybe it's because you haven't had the chance to finish your training yet. Either way, you're not too bad with a sword, I can see how you became the legend that you were.”

 

In the Battoussai's opinion, Kenji-chan loved hearing himself speak.

 

If it was because of the fact that he loved to hear his own voice a lot, or maybe the fact that the poor hitokiri could hardly get a word in because of Kenji's never-ending well of words, our future rurouni couldn't tell. It was all often a blur to him.

 

Kenji often carried one-sided conversations, or didn't even give the Battoussai a chance to speak most of the time. Not that Kenshin was complaining, because he wasn't. In fact, he found the one-sided conversations very interesting and insightful.

 

Young Kenji didn't disappoint him today either.

 

“Do you think if I give myself a scar on the cheek as well and start acting like you, that is, speaking and smiling less, being less friendly to others, glaring at them a lot, tying my topknot a little tighter… I could pass up as you?”

 

“Why would you want to do that, Kenji-chan?”

 

“Oh, I don't know… for kicks maybe? I know I'm slightly taller than you… and you are skinnier than me,” Kenji regarded Kenshin's small frame quietly, making the young hitokiri a bit uncomfortable at having his son point it out blatantly like that. “But most people who don't know us would probably have a hard time telling us apart if we acted and dressed alike.”

 

The poor hitokiri could only lift his shoulders in confusion.

 

The pair found a nice fallen tree trunk to use as a bench. Propping their respective swords on the side of the trunk, they sat down, easing their strained muscles.

 

Kenshin liked training with Kenji. Believe it or not, he could actually feel himself improve, although he will never admit it to the already self-assured look-alike.

 

“Aren't you just a tiny bit bored, Sessha?” said Kenji who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes.

 

One would think that they could at least sit in silence after a hard day's practice, but…

 

“Sessha?” Kenji broke the silence impatiently, daring to poke Kenshin in the shoulder, shaking him out of his silent musings.

 

The Battoussai was now also used to his son's dry sense of humor, but he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why the teen insisted on calling him `Sessha'. He was starting to miss being called plain “Kenshin” instead of “Sessha”. During the time spent with Kenji, the Battoussai learned a lot about patience, humility, understanding, and he was also getting used to the way Kenji-chan spoke. The boy seemed to have invented some new form of grammar and a language of his own.

 

Since Kenji seemed to be waiting for a response from Kenshin, he shrugged.

 

“I figured just as much,” Kenji said knowledgeably, nodding. “It must feel nice, taking a break from being a hitokiri and all, but remember not to let your skills slide. Don't forget to practice so you never get rusty.”

 

Kenshin could only nod again as Kenji continued to impart more seeds of wisdom. Nodding and shrugging have become constants in the young hitokiri's life.

 

A full minute of silence passed before it was broken again.

 

“This is nice, isn't it?” Kenji said.

 

The Battoussai, used to his son's short attention span and ability to switch from one topic to another within the blink of an eye, nodded once more. One thing was starting to bother him though. “Do you think you'll ever get back in your own time, Kenji-chan?”

 

“I don't know, have no idea and don't know how.” He said as he counted them off of his fingers. “I may be stuck here, but who knows, you know?”

 

“It's not so bad to be stuck here, is it?”

 

“No, I actually like it, despite the war going on. I… I still have living relatives in this time. I don't feel so… alone.” He confessed.

 

Once again, those familiar stirrings of what he can only identify as guilt started making its way into the Battoussai's heart. Kenji is alone in his own time because of me…

 

“So what are you going to do if and when I do have to return to my own time, Sessha?” Despite the joking tone, both of them could tell the gravity of the situation.

 

Kenshin was thinking of how he enjoyed his future son's company a lot; Of how his son seemed to act like a whirlwind of confusion most of the time, with his constant chatter, distracting Kenshin from the horrors of the current situation.

 

Kenji was thinking of how his view of his father was changing. He actually enjoyed Kenshin's company, even if the other redhead was often quiet and just content on listening. So far, this was the longest time he has ever spent with his father.

 

Both of them were sure that they were going to miss each other if the time came that Kenji had to return to his own time.

 

“Well I'm sure you'll do fine, even without me, Kenshin.” Kenji said sincerely, a serious look on his face. “And you know that saying… If you love something, set it free…” Kenshin face flushed in embarrassment and Kenji laughed. “Unless it's something like a man-eating tiger or something that wouldn't be doing anybody any favors.”

 

The Battoussai couldn't help but admire the young man's ability to try to make light of each situation, no matter how bleak they looked. “You might not be able to return to your own time, Kenji-chan.”

 

“Well, who's to say that I won't? Don't worry Kenshin, you'll do fine,” he repeated. “Just… just promise me one thing okay?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Make sure you're in the streets of Tokyo in the summer of the 11th year of the Meiji… which means that you have to help usher in the new era, no matter what.”

 

Violet eyes met purple as the young hitokiri battoussai nodded his head in a solemn promise.