Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ —¤: Boy meets dad :¤— ❯ Special Dinner ( Chapter 19 )

 

 

 

 

I don't own Kenshin. If I did though, I'd have Kenshin give me a backrub each night while Aoshi massages my foot and Saitou fans me with an abnormally large feather-fan… ermmm… yeah… :coughs discreetly: back to the story…

 

……

 

CHAPTER 19

 

Oh yes, he brought it alright. His sadistic father brought IT, plus some!

 

“I swear if you call me “baka deshi”, I'm going to rip your precious jewels out and stuff them down your throat.”

 

If he had the energy, he would've put more bluster into his threat, but he didn't, so the promise of impending harm didn't sound that dangerous to the other man.

 

“You did good, Kenji-chan.” Kenshin seemed amused and opted to ignore Kenji's promise of mortal peril. “If you pay attention like that each time, you actually won't find the training sessions so hard.” He complimented his son.

 

Kenji wished he had a witty comeback for his father, but the aches and pains of his body were numbing his mind. He couldn't think. He wanted to just crawl back under his futon and sleep. He couldn't figure out how Kenshin could be so preppy and cheery each morning. He wasn't a morning person. More often than not, Kenshin had to usually wake him up to get him started. He was more of a nighttime person. The hard ground seemed really comfortable at the moment, his aching muscles were soothed by the cold surface. He yawned and settled himself a bit more comfortably on the earthen bed. If he used his imagination just right, he could even pretend that he was laying down on his warm, comfy futon right now… and he started to doze off.

 

The Battoussai walked over to where his son was laying down on the cold earth and prodded him with his right toe. He couldn't believe the kid could actually take a nap right then and there. “Let's go, Kenji-chan. I have to do the laundry today. If you keep laying down on the ground like that, you'll get more dirt on your clothes than you've already had.” When he got no response, he prodded just a bit harder, which could be described as short of a kick to the ribs of the redhead on the ground.

 

Kenji groaned dramatically and struggled to get up, trying to gain some sympathy from his heartless father. He slowly sat up and gave his father a withering look. “I think I'm dying. If I offended you in some way, we could have at least talked it out first, you know. There was no need to beat the crap out of me.”

 

Kenshin chuckled. “If you survived training with Shishou then I know for sure that our morning exercise was nothing compared to his. Come on, get up.” When his son made no move to get up, he decided to go with bribery. “Didn't you say you were hungry?”

 

Kenji grumbled some more, but he stood up. He swore he heard his bones creak or something. He wasn't sure though, because if they did creak, he couldn't hear them from all the growling that his empty stomach was making. “This is child abuse!” He looked at his father accusingly as he stepped beside the man.

 

“I cook for you, do your laundry, help you train and do my best to protect you.” Kenshin counted one deed after another. “How is that child abuse?”

 

The older redhead sighed, exasperated. “I don't know why exactly, I can't think with an empty stomach, but I say so and that's that.” He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned. He went straight to sleep right after they reached home and woke up only when breakfast was ready.

 

Life was good.

 

…

 

“Can't you give it to us for a little bit cheaper than that ma'am? Onegai?” The redhead begged and looked at the vendor pleadingly, bowing over and over again to make his appeal.

 

The middle-aged woman from behind the stall struggled with herself a bit. Part of her wanted to give the redhead the goods for free because he was so kawaii and kind, but the businesswoman in her didn't want to lower the price at all. The redhead was a shrewd bargainer though, and she felt herself succumb to his requests and lowered the price after several minutes. The boy who looked like his younger brother seemed a bit uncomfortable, he was standing at a small distance from his older brother.

 

She lowered the price just a bit and almost felt sorry that the keen bargainer had to go.

 

“Arigato!” Kenji thanked the lady profusely and walked towards Kenshin happily with his purchases in tow. He dropped several pieces into the bag that Kenshin was carrying and rubbed his hands with glee.

 

“Why do you always insist on haggling with the vendors?”

 

“It's one of those traits you pass on to me in the future.”

 

“I've never haggled with the vendors before. Are you telling the truth?” The Battoussai asked his son skeptically. He didn't know whether to believe his son or not. He had that evil gleam in his eyes.

 

“Hai! Believe me you do.” It wasn't really true since his father in his time wasn't home enough for him to observe a lot of his vendor-haggling traits, but he didn't see anything wrong with feeding his father white lies, so he didn't feel any remorse whatsoever. In fact, he thought to himself, he felt that Kenshin could learn a thing or two from all the heckling, haggling, begging, flirting and any other means he's employed to get the vendors to lower their prices for him in the future. He figured his father would thank him later.

 

After making the Battoussai feel guilty about the strenuous practice he put him through this morning, Kenji managed to convince the hitokiri to make a quick trip to the market today. He was sort of getting tired of their usual vegetable and fish diet and was longing for a slight change in menu. Having lived in the Meiji Era, he was used to occasional Western perks. Perks that were so rare or weren't even available in the Bakamatsu yet. It was one of those downsides of being stuck in the past like he was.

 

A train ride from Tokyo to Kyoto: .33 Yen. Several slices of a western dessert called cake: .10 Yen. Spending time with his estranged father in the Bakamatsu: Priceless.

 

His mother was rather fond of cakes back when she was still alive. Her good friend Miss Misao would occasionally drop by and bring them Western goodies. Both women were big fans of the Western candy called chocolate. Tsunan Tsukiyoka, the news reporter and close childhood friend of Sanosuke Sagara, brought them a chocolate cake one day, and his mother went bananas over it. She positively loved it that she would have adopted Tsunan into the family if he allowed it.

 

He highly doubted that anyone sold chocolates or cakes in this time and place, he didn't even know if they sold it in Kyoto. He was sure nobody sold it in this town though so he didn't get his hopes up. He set his eyes on something different but special nonetheless, for tonight.

 

“What exactly are you planning?” Kenshin asked as he tried to make sense of their purchases.

 

“It's a surprise so just sit back and relax. And stop complaining!”

 

“I wasn't complaining, Kenji-chan.”

 

“Well, I didn't ask you to come, I don't know why you insisted on coming when I could've gotten the ingredients by myself.” He paused as he scowled at his father. “I'm a grown man, you know. I don't need you hovering over me to hold my hand if I stumble.”

 

Kenshin shifted uncomfortably under his son's gaze and quickly thought of an excuse. “I wanted to get out of the hut, that is all. It has been a long time since we went to town.”

 

“Right… and I'm the King of England!”

 

“Well, you do a great job of overseeing such a great country from an Asian Nation, your majesty.”

 

Kenji could've sworn he heard the sound of his jaw dropping to the ground. “Was that… did you… Was that a joke, Kenshin? Did you just crack a joke?” He asked disbelievingly.

 

The Battoussai sweatdropped in annoyance. “It's only funny if you get it,” he muttered.

 

Kenji laughed. “Gomen. Gomen ne. I was just so surprised…” His words trailed off as he laughed belatedly again. “Come on,” he said as he put an arm around the younger man's shoulders and rubbed a knuckle on his head - he was actually several inches taller than his small father so it was easy to give him a noogie. “Let's finish up so we can get back home and I can get started on that scrumptious meal I've been dreaming about ever since I got here.”

 

The pair set off in the direction of the meat stand, Kenji half-dragging Kenshin all over the marketplace before he was finally satisfied and decided to head for home.

 

……

 

“Just wait right there and I'll call you when dinner's ready, okay?” Kenji-chan told him that years ago… or so it seemed. When they arrived home, Kenji wanted him to stay outside while he prepared the food. He insisted, since Kenshin pointed out earlier today, that he's been doing most of the household chores, not to mention the one who cooks for them everyday, it was time for Kenji to show him what he can do as well.

 

He didn't mind doing the laundry or doing the chores, actually. He liked taking care of his son. Didn't Kenji-chan tell him that he liked doing household chores in the future before? He was getting soft already. He shook his head at the thought and listened to the sounds of nature outside their little hut.

 

Otsu was such a quiet place with friendly people. The neighbors' kids sometimes liked to visit and play with them. Kenshin was still the top champion although Kenji might have a thing or two to say about that. The kid was too competitive for his own good, or his father's for that matter.

 

Things were really slow in the life of the Himuras right now, but it was never boring. Nothing in the Battoussai's life was mundane anymore ever since he met Kenji. A ghost of a smile graced his face.

 

He wondered what Kenji was doing and why he wasn't allowed to help. One would think that the kid was engaged in a battle from the sounds coming from their kitchen.

 

Two slabs of meat, several vegetables, a jug of saké, some charcoal over an open fire, miso soup and a batch of steamed rice later…

 

“Tada!” Kenji proclaimed triumphantly as he presented his father with his prized masterpiece.

 

Their small hut was filled with delicious aromas that caused the Battoussai's stomach to rumble.

 

Kenji called him back in the hut several minutes ago, and after staring at the disaster his son had made in the kitchen, the young hitokiri turned his attention to the meal that Kenji had prepared.

 

Both of them were seated at their table. Kenji looked pretty pleased with himself.

 

“Anou… what is this?” Kenshin asked as he poked at the big piece of meat that his son placed in front of him at the dinner table. It looked really appetizing, and he briefly wondered how he was going to handle it with his chopsticks when Kenji waved a small knife in front of his face. If it were anybody else, the young hitokiri would have turned the knife around and stabbed it right through the offending person's throat. Instead, his eyes followed the swaying of the knife. “Huh?”

 

“It's called a `steak'. You use a small knife to cut it in tiny pieces first and then you eat it. You usually have to use a fork with the knife but we don't have any.” Kenji explained as he held both of his chopsticks in his left hand and the knife in the other. He told Kenshin to watch carefully and closed his eyes. He looked deep in concentration as he held the knife in front of his face.

 

Kenshin didn't know what a fork was, but he was intrigued by the `steak'. And if the Battoussai had blinked, he would have missed it. Kenji moved in the speed of light, effectively cutting his steak into even, horizontal proportions. Kenshin resisted a strong urge to clap his hands in appreciation of his son's exceptional skills.

 

“Now you try it.”

 

He picked up the small knife beside him and recalled how his son did it.

 

It took him less than five seconds to execute the same moves Kenji did. The piece of meat fell into even proportions on his plate.

 

“Sugoi! Sugoi! Now let's eat! Itadakimatsu!” Kenji broke off his chopsticks and started gulping down his food like there was no tomorrow. While he stuffed his face with the soup, lots of rice and more meat at the same time, Kenshin ate at a slower pace, savoring the food that was new to him.

 

“Was that some secret Hiten Mitsurugi move?” Kenshin couldn't help but ask Kenji in between chewing his food. “Did you just teach me something that I wasn't supposed to know yet?”

 

Kenji waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I've seen you do that once before and have since tried to imitate it,” he explained. “There was nothing special about it.”

 

The Battoussai was torn between frowning, laughing or both. He was never going to admit to anybody that he thought the kid used a special Hiten Mitsurugi move on the piece of meat.

 

They enjoyed the scrumptious meal companionably. His son was a good cook.

 

……