Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ —¤: Boy meets dad :¤— ❯ Practice makes Perfect. ( Chapter 18 )

 

 

CHAPTER 18

 

Kenji threw his head back and laughed until tears filled his eyes. His hearty laughter and Kenshin's soft chuckling could be heard from a good distance. The boy was physically pounding the ground with his fists in an effort to calm his gaiety. Such was his mirth.

 

“Shishou was pissed off, but he tried hard not to show it.” When he managed to calm down he continued, but his shoulders were still shaking in mirth. “He can be sadistic at times, but you can tell that he really cares for his baka deshi.”

 

“I agree. I remember the time when I thought I was dying. I had eaten some poisonous mushrooms and he made me some medicine.” Kenshin had a far-away look in his eyes as he paused in mid-motion, remembering the incident. “Shishou saved my life.” He nodded.

 

“He saved your life only to torture you with rigorous training.”

 

Kenshin chuckled again. “I don't know how I managed to live through all of that. He was worse than the slave drivers.”

 

“Did he also insist you execute the exact move perfectly right after he shows it to you?”

 

Father and son were toiling the soil in front of their little hut, planting some vegetable seeds that they bought from the town yesterday. The Battoussai seemed like a professional as he carried a hoe in one hand and seedlings in the other. They were both enjoying themselves despite the need to be under the blazing heat of the sun. It actually took them all day just to prep the soil and get some air into it by tilling it, but when they were done, planting seeds was the easiest part.

 

Notwithstanding sharing stories regarding their common mentor with each other, Kenji refrained from going into details about how he learned the succession technique, as he thought it wise that Kenshin not know about that until he was a rurouni. He felt that it wasn't his place to mess up the timeline more than he already had. That didn't prevent him from sharing other shishou stories though.

 

Kenji laughed again. “It's nice to know that he did it to you before he did it to me. Some people never change, eh? There was this one time when he ordered me to get some water from the lake,” Both redheads rolled their eyes at their master's most common form of punishment. “I thought it was another routine punishment but boy was I wrong. He -“

 

“Himura-san! Kamiya-san!” Greeted a cheerful voice from a distance.

 

Kenji dropped his gardening tool on the ground and cupped a hand over his eyes, chasing away the sun's reflection to enable him to see who was coming up the hill.

 

Kenshin moved closer to where he left his sword on the side of the house when he took it off so he can toil the soil without any constraints. He casually picked it up and tucked it into his belt then frowned at the back of Kenji's head. The boy didn't reach for his sword that wasn't even in the vicinity. His sakabatou was still inside the house, propped up against the rice sack. He was too trusting for his own good and for the Battoussai's peace of mind.

 

“Konnichiha Iizuka!” Kenji gave him a friendly smile and a cheery wave. He was happy to see a familiar face that he considered to be a friend. “What brings you over to this side of the lake?”

 

Iizuka returned Kenji's warm smile and tipped his head in the Battoussai's direction. “I come with news from the Ishin. Maybe we should take this talk inside.”

 

The Battoussai nodded and opened the door to their cabin, ushering Iizuka in. The visitor gently patted away the dirt and grime that was gathered in his gi and hakama as he untied the strings that held his straw hat in place. He held his hat in his hands as he waited for the other redhead to enter the hut.

 

Kenji motioned for Iizuka and Kenshin to go ahead and sit on the small table they had in their makeshift dining table. “Would you like some tea or saké?”

 

“Tea would be fine, thank you.” He replied as he set his straw hat beside him and made himself comfortable.

 

The Ishin Shishi bodyguard took the kettle from the stove and brought it over to where the two men were gathered and poured them three cups of hot tea. “So tell us Iizuka. What brings you over? Is it time to go back yet? Have you found out who the spy is? Is it safe? How's Kyoto?”

 

“How is Katsura-san?” Interjected Kenshin.

 

Iizuka looked from one redhead to the other, trying to decide which question to answer first. He knew that the older one didn't mean anything by asking about the spy, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Katsura-san is fine. He sends you his well wishes Himura-san. And to you as well, Kamiya-san.” Iizuka gently held his cup over his mouth and calmly sipped his tea. “We haven't figured out who the traitor is yet so it is not yet safe to return to Kyoto as of now.”

 

Nobody noticed the sighs of relief that came out of Kenji and Kenshin. None of them wanted to return to war just yet.

 

“Katsura-san would also like to send you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick piece of envelope.

 

Kenji figured it was more funds to sustain them while in hiding.

 

Kenshin accepted the envelope and quietly thanked the man.

 

Silence reigned in the little hut once more as the three men quietly sipped their tea.

 

“Will you be spending the night, Iizuka-san?” Asked Kenji. “Kenshin is a pretty decent cook if I do say so myself.”

 

Iizuka slowly blinked. He never figured the Battoussai was good for anything more than assassinating people. He was pretty surprised when he came a little while ago and saw the hitokiri in the garden. If he didn't know any better, he would actually believe that the two people living in this cabin were brothers and that they were farmers to boot. No wonder the Hitokiri Battoussai was so dangerous - he can blend in anywhere he wanted.

 

He gulped. He didn't want to spend the night with an assassin but he had to gather as much information on these people as much as possible, as soon as possible. He didn't want to die anytime soon. “That is most kind of you, Kamiya-san. It is getting pretty late,” he said and glanced at the setting sun through one of the windows. The cabin was basked in a golden glow. He looked at Himura the Battoussai apprehensively. “That is if it's okay with you, Himura-san.”

 

“It's no trouble at all,” was the simple reply.

 

“Maybe you should get started on that dinner, ne Kenshin? Afterall, we have a guest.”

 

The Battoussai simply nodded, politely excused himself from the table and obediently started gathering the materials he needed to prepare dinner. Iizuka was amazed at whatever powers the Kamiya boy held over the most feared assassin of the Ishin Shishi. He has never witnessed such a thing before - Kenshin Himura cooking! He didn't know how long his mouth had been gaping open, but the Kamiya boy's voice shook him out of his trance.

 

“I'll just go and finish up with the garden and put away the gardening tools. Make yourself comfortable, Iizuka-san.”

 

“H-Hai, Kamiya-san. Would you like some help?” Please say yes. He silently pleaded in his mind. He didn't know why, but he felt ill at ease being around the Battoussai by himself. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly, but there was something different about Himura now.

 

“That's alright, it'll be just a second.” Kenji responded and disappeared outside the door. Sounds of someone gathering tools and placing them beside the hut could be heard just outside the small house while Kenshin was calmly preparing their meal.

 

Iizuka fidgeted uncomfortably from his spot. It's okay. They don't know anything. Just act natural and you'll be okay. Just observe them and do your job.

 

It was easier said than done but he did it.

 

He had to swallow hard and eat tiny pieces so as not to choke himself through the course of the meal but he did it. He made it. Observing the pair was an experience like no other.

 

The older redhead seemed to take utter delight in tormenting and teasing the Battoussai.

 

What was most surprising about everything - not regarding the fact that the meal was delicious or the fact that the meal was prepared by a feared assassin - was that the hitokiri allowed himself to be teased and sometimes, miracle of miracles, even teased right back! Iizuka felt like he was having dinner with a family, not just a couple of friends or comrades who are hiding out in a remote location from the Shogun's Army.

 

“That was good, ne? Enjoy your meal, Iizuka-san?” Kenji asked as he placed his chopsticks beside his now empty rice bowl and patted his satisfied belly.

 

“Hai, thank you for the meal, Himura-san.”

 

Kenshin nodded and watched Iizuka carefully. Out of all the Ishin, he spent the most time with Iizuka before Kenji came because Iizuka was the one who gave him his assignments and he was also the one who cleaned up after him. The man seemed as fidgety as a newborn calf from the moment he stepped into the hut and the Battoussai couldn't figure out why. Kenji seemed oblivious to the man's discomfort. Or if he could tell, he was sure doing a good job hiding it. The boy continued to make small conversations with the man, telling him about their recent accomplishments.

 

“Maybe when the war is over, Kenshin and I could go into farming,” Kenji was boasting to Iizuka.

 

The Ishin Shishi ally laughed, hoping that it didn't sound false. He felt like Himura the Battoussai was trying to bore a hole into his skin. Did he know?

 

……

 

The sun was just rising as a rooster crowed at a distance when sounds of metal clashing against were heard throughout the forest.

 

Duck. Thrust. Slash. Parry. Yawn. Slash. Duck. Yawn. Duck. Hooo… I see an opening! Hah! Take that scurvy fiend! Duck. Yawn. Yawn. Parry. Yawn. Blah. I'm still sleepy. Hm, I wonder what we're having for breakfast today. I'm craving fish, I think. But it's a bit early for fish, isn't it? Feh! After this, I should be able to work up an appetite enough to eat a horse. What the… Ow! “Hey! That hurt!” Kenji protested and rubbed his arm gingerly, trying to brush the pain away. They were supposed to be practicing, not killing each other. He widened his eyes just a bit and glared at his father to make it clear that he didn't appreciate getting hit by the hilt of the hitokiri's sword.

 

The Battoussai lowered his katana. “Pay attention, Kenji-chan.” He severely reprimanded the older redhead. For someone who accused him of not paying attention a lot, he sure wasn't paying much attention now. The kid seemed to have a knack for losing concentration in the middle of a battle and that didn't sit well with him. Mistakes like that were hardly acceptable in training and it could cost him his life in the battlefield.

 

The Battoussai's eyes were pure amber when Kenji looked at him, and Kenji resisted the intense urge to flinch and apologize to his father. “Does the word practice mean anything to you?” He inquired, stalling for time.

 

“You must treat our skirmishes as real battles. If I were part of the Shogunate's army, you would have been dead by now.”

 

His arm was still stinging from the blow Kenshin gave him. “I want a do-over!”

 

“In the battlefield, the enemy will not grant you this “do-over” when he aims to take your life. This is war, not a game.”

 

Good point. “Well, did you have to hit so hard?” Kenji whined.

 

“You should take our practices more seriously, Kenji-chan. As you said, we cannot afford to let our skills get rusty.” Kenshin said ardently. His paranoia about his son's safety troubled him greatly each day.

 

“Psh! I have the Hiten Mitsurugi Style and the Kasshin Style under my belt. What do I have to worry about?”

 

“One cannot also afford to be over-confident in these times.” The young hitokiri advised wisely.

 

“Yes, Buddha incarnate.” Kenji mocked as he bowed condescendingly. “Can we take a break yet? Aren't you tired?”

 

“We need more practice.” Scarface frowned at him. “We only just begun several minutes ago. Surely you're not ready to give up yet. You and I have barely just begun.”

 

“But I'm still sleepy and I'm getting hungry.”

 

“When I trained with shishou, I wasn't allowed to complain. I woke up when he decided it was time to wake up, I ate when he decided that it was time to eat and I practiced when he decided it was time to practice. He allowed no room for error and I tried to deliver what he wanted as best I could.”

 

“Well excuse me for being a mere mortal, Kenshin.” He complained fretfully. Ever since Iizuka left two days ago, the Battoussai had been rearing his ugly hitokiri head, giving him training fit for the likes of Seijuro Hiko XIII himself. Kenji couldn't figure out what had gotten into his young father. He seemed driven to train even harder than before. He wished they could work on the garden again, but after they planted the seeds, all they had to do was watch out for bugs and water them to make them grow. It left them a lot of free time once more.

 

“Let's resume.”

Kenji grumbled as he crouched into a defensive position and waited for Kenshin to attack. In his mind, since, technically, he's been able to beat Kenshin in the past and keep up with him during their first battle, he thought that he was the better fighter. Even during their previous practices, he's managed to stay ahead of the hitokiri, but either he really was getting rusty or his father was actually improving each practice. It's like the man could read his mind now, Kenji had to continuously improvise and rethink his strategy to stay ahead of the game.

 

I'm not getting rusty, am I? The thought disturbed him greatly. I think I'm just taking it easy on him because he's my father. Yeah, that's it…

 

He almost missed the katana aimed straight at his forehead. He dived at the last possible second, avoiding the blade by less than a centimeter at most. He gracefully rolled over and prepared for another blow that never came.

 

Kenshin growled. Yes, his father actually growled at him. Kenji blinked. He's done his fair share of aggravating his father before, but Kenshin seemed really irritated and disturbed about his near miss with the katana.

 

No matter how many times he tells Kenji-chan to pay attention to the mock-battle, the kid always spaces out in the middle of an attack. He knew they were only practicing, and it wasn't like he was actually going to do anything to hurt Kenji, because that was the farthest thing from his mind, but he couldn't help but feel extremely bothered whenever he found a weakness after another in his son. He knew nobody was perfect, even his own son, but the kid lacked the killer instinct and paranoia that he possessed.

 

He viewed that as a good thing, he still does. Sometimes though, it was a hindrance in their training. The kid just allowed himself to be so damn trusting of just about anything and everything.

 

Kenshin feared that someone would take advantage of Kenji's trusting nature someday and cause his downfall.

 

“Pay. Attention.” The Battoussai grit out each word, his voice was full of venom.

 

“Boy, somebody's extra grumpy today.” Kenji mumbled quietly. He wanted to crack a joke or say some sarcastic remark but the look on his father's face deterred him. He guessed he'd have to take this practice and every other practice after this seriously if he didn't want his father to go all hitokiri on him. “Gomen. Gomen nasai. I'll pay attention now.”

 

The Battoussai didn't look like he believed him. “I swear!” He reiterated.

 

“Are you sure this time? I will not accept anything less than your full attention, Kenji.”

 

He gulped. No more “-chan” at the end. That must mean that the other samurai was really serious.

 

Kenji slowly placed his sword back in its scabbard. He relaxed his body and shook his limbs to loosen them up, shaking the stress out of his shoulders as well, determined to take this practice session seriously from now on. After cracking his knuckles menacingly to show that he meant business, he presented the Battoussai with his right hand, palm up. He gestured his fingers forward in an obvious challenge and smirked. “Bring it on, Father.”

 

 

……