Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ —¤: Boy meets dad :¤— ❯ The End of an Era ( Chapter 23 )

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CHAPTER 23

 

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The trek back to the cabin seemed to last for an eternity.

 

He couldn't feel his toes, couldn't feel his nose, his legs were numb from walking and he was frozen by the time he made it back to the cabin, both in body and mind.

 

He wasn't even concerned about the extra weight that he carried on his back; he was more concerned of getting medical attention. Limited as his knowledge of medicine as it may have been, it was still a good thing that they had a supply of it right in their own home. He never thought that he would be using the medicine they sold on Kenji himself.

 

The boy seemed unhealthily pale and unnaturally still. He was also uncharacteristically quiet on their journey home and this worried him immensely. He probably fell asleep or passed out, which was very worrisome to the young hitokiri.

 

He blamed himself once again. He should not have forced the kid to get up at sunrise especially after yesterday's `celebration', and he knew that he should not have been so strict in following their schedule to the tee. Why couldn't he have followed his son's advice and tried to `relax' for once in his life? He guessed that whoever attacked them meticulously planned it; their timing was perfect. It was almost as if they knew the kid was weak from the last night's indulgence. The question regarding who was behind it nagged at the back of his mind but he pushed it aside. He had more important matters to attend to right now - like Kenji's health.

 

How could he have not seen his own son? He could have sworn he was confronting another spy when he turned around after cutting down the shinobi in front of him. There were so much debris flying around that he had to rely on instincts to cut down one enemy after another.

 

After their first assault, he and his son climbed towards the top of the mountain together, into the shinobi-tachi's trap. He felt confident in his abilities to protect them both, but once again, his instincts failed him.

 

Yes, the battle had been fierce and halfway to the hut he was still half-deaf and half-blind, but that didn't mean that he could have misjudged so poorly and caused that unfortunate accident.

 

If it hadn't been for the fact that he had traveled this same road many times before during the past months, he would have never been able to find his way right now. Everything around him looked white and blurry. Curse the shinobi gang and whoever was behind this whole plot. He vowed to have his vengeance, but not now, when he had other things to worry about.

 

He sighed as he shifted the weight on his back. Plant your feet indeed. He would carry this so-called burden everywhere if he could if it meant that Kenji was going to survive this. One great thing finally happened in his life and he just had to mess it up.

 

Was he cursed?

 

He couldn't even begin to fathom how he would survive without Kenji. He had accepted the boy to be a constant in his life. His one true friend, confidant, practice buddy and beloved family.

 

His blood should not have been spilled at all today, or on any day for that matter, and he prayed to the Kami that he would do a better job at being the boy's protector next time, if only they gave him one more chance.

 

The combination of the cold air, snow on his clothes and mental exhaustion was making him start to feel delusional by the time he spotted their house from the hillside. He didn't bother to use his hands to open the door, a good kick saw to it.

 

He sighed in relief as they entered the small hut. He had a thin sheet of sweat from the exertion of carrying added weight on his back, but he didn't mind it one bit.

 

Carefully setting his son down on the tatami mat, he hurried to the makeshift bedroom behind the screen and dragged a futon to where Kenji was laying at. He ignored the stillness of the boy, and then proceeded to rummage through their medicine supplies.

 

First things first though, so he carefully peeled away the blood-soaked clothes from the older redhead. They were swiftly discarded unto a heap on the floor. His son still hasn't regained consciousness while he meticulously cleaned his wounds. Apart from the nasty hole in his chest, he didn't have any other serious injuries. Minor cuts, bruises and burns from the explosives littered his body and the Battoussai quickly dressed those as well, while swearing all the while that this was going to be the last time his son ever put his life in danger.

 

He didn't know how long it took him until he was finally satisfied with how Kenji looked, but his stomach was protesting loudly, being without food for so long.

 

Reluctantly, he left the side of the futon, cutting his vigil by making some food. Kenji will need food when he wakes up. The kid was often always hungry.

 

He prepared a quick stew and allowed it to heat over the stove under a low fire. Taking a generous portion on a bowl, he took up his original position beside the kid's futon once again and silently ate his meal. He didn't really have much of an appetite, so after his hunger was appeased; he checked the kid's injuries once again and took up his usual vigil with his back against the wall. His trusty sword was draped across his shoulder and a knee was raised.

 

Kenji will look for me when he wakes up. They were inseparable, even when they were having a tiff they never went their separate ways.

 

He was sure that the boy wasn't going to blame him for what happened. He would probably say something along the lines of it was his fault and try to ease the guilt that he was feeling. He's such a kind-hearted soul. He didn't know what he would do without the kid by his side.

 

Did he not promise to protect his son a long time ago? No one hurts my family.

 

But he failed; he broke his promise.

 

His head lowered several inches towards the ground in shame. What was he good for if he can't even keep his promises?

 

The sun set on the horrid day yet the boy did not awaken. The hitokiri kept his silent vigil by the side of the futon with the fire from trying to keep the meal warm long forgotten.

 

He hadn't moved an inch and his muscles were frozen in his stance, but still he waited.

 

And waited.

 

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A rooster crowed at a distance, signaling the break of a new dawn. It was just yesterday when he was listening to his son's complaints about waking up so early in the morning.

 

If he only knew what had been in store for them yesterday, he would have insisted for Kenji to stay inside their hut and not come out until next summer.

 

If only he could turn back the time…

 

For the first time since yesterday, he noticed that the stinging pain on the left side of his face. He reached up and touched it with his left hand, feeling the fresh wound inflicted by his son yesterday. It was another horizontal slash to the one that he already had, and from the feel of it, it formed an X shape combined with his old one.

 

He could remember the day when he got that first horizontal slash. Kenji had caused it as well - that day in the forest when he thought that the boy was spying for the Shinsengumi.

 

He got his ass kicked and a scar to remember that day by, he thought as he fingered the disfigurement absentmindedly. He didn't really mind the injuries. If Kenji wanted to carve him a new face, he would allow it, if only he would wake up from his long slumber already, and promise not to put himself in harm's way ever again.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't detect their visitor until there was a knock on the front door followed by a familiar voice calling out. “Himura-san?”

 

Kenshin tightened his grip on his katana and quickly made his way to the entrance of the hut, preparing to defend his territory. He was surprised to see who their visitor was. “Katsura-san!” He exclaimed. “What brings you here?” Stupid question, he thought. By now, Katsura-san would have already known about yesterday's incident.

 

He stepped aside, allowing the man some room to step into the hut. He noted that the man was alone, and there didn't seem to be anyone else with him, even after looking around for a bit, trying to judge the situation.

 

“I heard about what happened.” Katsura explained. His eyes ventured to the form of Kenji on the futon and his brow furrowed. “I'm sorry I couldn't come here earlier, I had matters to attend to in Kyoto…” He paused, waiting for some sort of reply from the Battoussai. When he didn't get any, he cleared his throat and continued. “Sumimasen, Himura-san.” He bowed low in contrition. “Please accept my deepest apologies. I didn't realize that they would be able to track you down here.”

 

The Battoussai bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. “No need to apologize, Katsura-san. It wasn't your fault.” It was his own fault for not being vigilant enough. He couldn't place the blame on someone else's shoulders.

 

The two men sat down after some tea was prepared and Katsura didn't know if the Battoussai was pointedly ignoring the looks that he was giving him or if he was just totally oblivious to them. He decided it wise not to voice out his concerns for now and quietly sipped his tea.

 

“We found out who the spy was.”

 

The hitokiri's fists balled tightly and a tick began to develop on his right eye.

 

“It was Iizuka. He was selling Ishin Shishi information to the enemy in exchange for a few gold coins.”

 

“I will have his head.” The Battoussai said darkly.

 

Katsura's eyes dimmed at the memory of the betrayal. “I have taken care of it. I dispatched your replacement, Makoto Shishio, to take care of him. He will deal with the traitor accordingly.”

 

“Replacement?”

 

Katsura shifted a little uncomfortably. “Being a hitokiri in the shadows will no longer be fit for you since they know your identity. They know who you are, Himura-san. I - we - the Ishin Shishi, have decided that it's time for you to move out of the shadows and into the open. I'm assigning you to a new position, a bodyguard position to protect the key members of our organization, from now on, if you don't mind. Your successor will take over being the hitokiri in the shadows. He's as good at the job as you were.”

 

The Battoussai perked up at this. He was going to be on guard duty like Kenji. It was sure to give him more time to spend with the kid, maybe he could even convince Katsura-san to assign them on the same missions… or better yet, maybe he could take on the kid's missions instead, allowing the kid to rest up all safe and sound at headquarters.

 

Yes, that would be best.

 

His features softened and he perked up immensely for the first time since yesterday.

 

“Um,” Katsura said preliminarily, “Himura-san are you okay?” He glanced at the boy laying down on the futon and then back at the hitokiri worriedly. What was wrong with him? “We could talk about this another day, when you get back to Kyoto… I understand. You have up to two weeks to return to Kyoto and we will rebuild the resistance," he said.

 

The young hitokiri nodded. “Once Kenji-chan feels up to it we shall return.”

 

Katsura merely stared at him.

 

“He suffered more injuries than I did yesterday and it's going to take him some time to recover. I'm sure he'll be happy to return to Kyoto after he has healed.”

 

And continued to stare.

 

“I think he needs the rest, he was really tired yet I forced him to train with me yesterday,” he confided to the leader of the rebellion.

 

Kogoro Katsura was still staring at him; he was starting to fear for the Battoussai's sanity.

 

“He would be glad to find out that you cared enough to visit him, Katsura-san,” the Battoussai continued to tell him.

 

The leader of the rebellion threw a glance at the figure laying down on the futon once more. “Um,” he said, “Himura-san, are you feeling alright? Daijoubu desu ka?”

 

“Daijoubu, Katsura-san!” The Battoussai replied in an almost cheerful tone. The first time Katsura has ever experienced from the young one. A cheerful hitokiri was actually quite scary in his opinion.

 

“I'm sorry about what happened to Kamiya-san.”

 

“Daijoubu,” the Battoussai repeated.

 

“I really regret the loss of one of the best bodyguards that the Ishin Shishi has ever had.”

 

Kenshin's forced cheerful mood faltered. Why was Kogoro Katsura looking at him like that? “Daijoubu,” he repeated like a mantra, in a whispered voice.

 

“I saw how close you were to him, Himura-san,” the Ishin Shishi leader continued to say. “The two of you must have been like brothers. I remember that talk I had with him months ago…” he trailed off, thinking back to that time, several months ago. “He was a good friend.”

 

“Daijoubu,” was all that the Battoussai could whisper once again, his gaze fixed on his teacup.

 

“I do hope that you would consider returning to the ranks of the rebellion, Himura-san. We could use someone like you to guard the members of the Ishin Shishi from the likes of the Shinsengumi.” His eyes were sorrowful as he glanced at the fallen figure of Kamiya on the futon once again, and then back to the Battoussai who seemed to be in a state of denial. “You have my deepest condolences, Himura-san. I'm sure that Kamiya-san considered you to be family as well.” He fervently hoped that Kenshin Himura wasn't going to quit working for the Ishin Shishi cause because of this horrible tragedy, as selfish as that may have sounded.

 

He didn't know why the Battoussai kept talking about the Kamiya boy as if he were just slumbering peacefully on his futon. Surely he could see that the boy was dead.

 

When he received news of the attack made by the Shogun's shinobi on his prized hitokiri and companion two weeks ago, he was deeply distressed. The report told him that the older boy suffered grave injuries and might not survive the incident.

 

It took him close to two weeks to ferret out the weak link in their chain, and made the decision to get a new assassin, since their first one had already been exposed. Makoto Shishio seemed to have a dark soul, unlike Kenshin Himura when he first saw him, but he got the job done and that was what was important.

 

In reality, he really wanted to check on the two young boys he had sent to hide in Otsu the minute he found out, but duty called out to him, and after he had set things right and rebuilt the organization again, he went to check out the damage himself.

 

He hadn't gotten any other reports of the incident after that first one, and when he entered the hut, he had expected the usual cheery face of the Kamiya boy.

 

Despite the Battoussai answering his summons at the door, he still had his hopes up until he entered the cabin.

 

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It smelled like there was a dead something inside the dwelling and it emanated from where the Kamiya boy was `sleeping'. A glance was all it took for him to make a definite conclusion. He was dead.

 

After the ambush, the Battoussai must have carried his body back here and placed it on the futon and cleaned him up. He looked so serene, so at peace, even in death. That had been two weeks ago.

 

Considering that the Battoussai was rather taking it well, he allowed himself to sip tea in spite of the odd circumstances. As their conversation progressed, he realized something - the Battoussai seemed to be overlooking the fact of his companion's demise.

 

Grief often did unexplainable things to a person. Some cried their hearts out to cope with the loss, others tended to lean towards doing acts of violence. And some… went into denial.

 

Clearly the Battoussai was one of these people, as he valiantly tried to keep a calm demeanor about him as he proceeded to talk as if he expected the Kamiya boy to get up from the futon and start having tea with them any minute now.

 

He truly felt sorry for the young Ishin Shishi. When he came to work for them more than a year ago, he never could have guessed the amount of hardships that was going to befall the young man. Not a day passed by when he wasn't racked with guilt, knowing that he had caused a kind soul like Kenshin Himura to become the stoic assassin that he was now.

 

He thought that he was doing the boy a favor by talking to Kamiya and encouraging the friendship and familial bond that seemed to surround them, but instead, he managed to cause an even bigger heartbreak for the Battoussai.

 

The man decided to give the Battoussai a few minutes to come to terms with it and politely excused himself out of the dwelling. He sat on a bench outside of the hut and listened to the sound of the wind blowing.

 

The Battoussai sat inside with two cups of simmering tea, quietly contemplating what he should do next.

 

Each day for the past two weeks since that snowy morning, he woke up in denial. He kept eluding the fact that the boy wasn't going to wake up from his slumber, and that his eyes weren't going to open anymore.

 

Time stopped for him when Kenji had stopped breathing. No amount of denial was going to bring his son back from the dead and he finally had to reconcile with the fact that the boy was gone. The pain brought by the realization almost crippled him from the inside, leaving a large, gaping hole in his dark soul.

 

He stared at the swirling liquid inside his cup, willing it to give him a clear path on what to do next.

 

Kenshin came out a few minutes later with a determined look on his face, and Katsura braced himself for a disappointment. After this incident, he didn't think that the former assassin would want to involve himself with the Restoration anymore, and he couldn't really blame the guy.

 

Katsura was still sitting on the bench when the Battoussai met him outside. He was pleasantly and mildly surprised when Kenshin told him that he would go to Kyoto and fight for the revolution once more.

 

“I will go to Kyoto and fight for the cause because if I quit fighting now, then all the lives that I have taken would all have been for nothing, and Kenji's sacrifice would all have been for naught,” was what the Battoussai said.

 

During this time, several children ran up the hill and called for Kenshin and Kenji's name, asking if they could play with them, and Kenshin turned sorrowful eyes at them. He nodded and told them to wait a while, so that he could finish his conversation with Katsura-san.

 

They took out their wooden tops and began to battle against each other. Kenshin looked on sadly.

 

“I will continue to fight to pave the way to the new era,” the Battoussai continued as he watched the children play, “but when the time comes, I will never kill again.”

 

All that Kogoro Katsura could do was nod at these words, and then Kenshin bid him a good day. He then turned to the children and promised to play with them until nightfall.

 

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Exactly two weeks after that, Kenshin Himura burned the hut and the remains, including his treasured spinning top and his son's sakabatou down to the ground in their small dwelling in Otsu.

 

He stood at a safe distance away and watched as the flames engulfed what he had considered home for several minutes and then turned his back. He walked away without looking behind.

 

He returned to Kyoto to resume working towards the Restoration.

 

He protected the key members of the rebellion against the forces of the Shinsengumi, and even managed to come face to face with several of their captains several times.

 

He distinctly remembered the captain of the Third Squad from that day when he trailed behind Kenji. The man seemed to recognize him as well, and all their duels have always ended in a draw. If it was because of their sword skill or because they truly didn't want to kill each other for some unknown reason, he couldn't tell. He didn't dwell on it though, he had more important matters to think about, and his thoughts often drifted back to the more carefree days when he was together with his Kenji.

 

He became a force to be reckoned with. He became the stuff that legends were made of. Ordinary men trembled in fear at the mere mention of his name and his feats were envied among enemies and allies alike.

 

The young man was like no other human any of them have encountered before. He was loyal to his cause, looked like a young girl but packed the power of an army of samurai with his intense god-like speed and unique sword style.

 

He had little to no friends, preferring to keep to himself than indulge in semi-social gatherings like the rest of the samurais were prone to doing, which only escalated the rumours going around about him.

 

The X-shaped scar on his left cheek spurred more tall tales, ranging from one extreme to another. Some say that it was the source of his superior sword skills, like some sort of magic talisman. Others speculated that it was given to him by a former love - hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and she carved the X unto his cheek when they parted ways. A few people believed it to be the result of the only time that the Battoussai has ever lost a fight, and guessed that whoever gave him the scars were six feet under the ground now.

 

Many postulated and reached their own assumptions, but none ever guessed the true origin of the infamous scar. The few, and stupid, who dared to ask the Battoussai were all silenced with a piercing cold stare when they ventured to question him personally about it.

 

The Battoussai chose to keep to himself all throughout his single journey towards the new era that they were trying to carve.

 

An image of a redhead with identical looks to his own spurred his determination at the back of his mind, and it was the his only solace during the turbulent times.

 

He tried to console himself, telling him that he would do things differently this time. He wasn't going to be that absent father his son so gravely took exception to. This time, he vowed to himself, he would make things better no matter what. It was just a matter of time until he was going to meet up with Kenji is all, or so he kept telling himself.

 

He tried his best to serve the cause and tried his hardest to survive the bloody war.

 

When the last battle was fought and the Imperialists had forced the Restoration, Kenshin thrust his sword into the ground and walked away.

 

He bid the swordsmith Shakku Arai a fond farewell and got a recollective memento in return - his very own reverse-blade sword. It brought back painful memories, but he managed to politely thank the infamous swordsmith before he bid him goodbye, carrying a sword without the ability to kill.

 

Going through his wardrobe, he saw the dreaded pink gi that was given to him years before. He touched it gently, remembering their conversation that day. He remembered forcefully objecting to wearing anything so blatantly girlish before, but he harbored none of the same arguments the day that he donned it.

 

It made him feel closer to his lost loved one, and he found himself adapting, to a certain extent, the personality he loved so much about Kenji.

 

He refused to go to Tokyo and avoided Kyoto as much as he could, never staying in one place long enough to be tracked down by his former comrades.

 

For ten years he wandered Japan, trying to find that piece in his soul that has been missing ever since that fateful day back in Otsu.

 

He never found it in his wanderings, but exactly ten years later, Kenshin Himura returned to the streets of Tokyo to face the wrath of a young woman wielding a bokken.

 

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A/N: (sweats) I hope I didn't confuse you or make you think Kenshin was losing it… (although I think he really was lol) in this chapter. =P

 

Poor Kenji… Kukukukuku! I mean… (coughs) =(

 

This isn't the end yet… I still have to tie loose ends and all that. =) But I'm hoping to end it in about two chapters or so. Hehehe.

 

Thank you for all your reviews. =)

 

I'm trying to finish one story first before I start on another, so let's see this story through first before we play with those other plot bunnies, ne? ^__^