Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ A Giant and the Lion Cub ❯ Chapter4 ( Chapter 4 )

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 4

Misao and Kaoru sat outside on the porch of the Aoiya, gazing up at the beautiful star fill sky and taking in the fresh spring air. The streets of Kyoto were still busy, even though evening was well on its way and the city was alive with electricity and excitement for the upcoming festival that would begin tomorrow afternoon.

Misao sighed and stretched her arms out in front of her, "I can't believe Kenji chan missed dinner." She winced slightly as the movement of her shoulder caused her bruise to ache and protest. Though it was only about half a day old, the wound already was a vibrant array of purple, blue, red, yellow, tinged with a bit of green.

Kaoru noticed her friends discomfort and gave her an apologetic look, "He had a busy day today, it really wore him out," she laughed suddenly, thinking of her fiery little son, "Even a child such as Kenji has limits!" It was ironic that the boy would pass out from exhaustion so suddenly, when he normally outlasted all the adults in the family, "We should take him on trips more often," Kaoru thought to herself.

"Himura looks so happy now," Misao said suddenly, tilting her head back to gaze at the stars, "He laughs and smiles like he means it." Her words tapered off, as she became lost in some lingering thought, oblivious to the world around her.

Kaoru watched her friend, noting the look of longing and sadness deep inside the girl's eyes. "You're thinking of Aoshi san, aren't you Misao chan." Kaoru empathized with the younger girl, knowing what it was like to live so close to the one you loved, but not understand them in the least bit. She and Kenshin had tiptoed around each other, pretending to be indifferent to their feelings, both afraid of what the future would bring, but in the end, love brought them together. She wanted to offer reassurance to the girl, but found she had no words. She didn't know what Aoshi thought of the sparse ninja girl, and false hope would only hurt her more.

Misao's love for the okashira was deep, so deep in fact, she followed him across Japan and back. His return to the Aoiya was a blessing from the gods, but the past years resulted in nothing more than stony, mutual respect between the two. Aoshi spend most of his time locked in his room, meditating or pouring over paper work. He hardly spoke to anyone, maintaining a cold, steely persona, never allowing anyone to see inside his soul or heart.

"Don't worry Misao chan," Kaoru finally said, unable to bare the sight of her friend in such heartache, "I'm sure things will work out for the best." Her words held tinges of hope, but offered no definite possibilities. Misao could take the comment as she saw fit.

"Thanks Kaoru chan," she smiled warmly, "I'm sure they will."

Her thoughts drifted back to the Himura boy and his father, playing so carefree in the yard earlier than evening. She could picture the vibrant smiles of the two, unrestrained, full of love and joy. She wondered if children would bring Aoshi such happiness, but found if difficult to picture him playing with a son or daughter the way Himura san played with Kenji. Certainly Aoshi wouldn't be caught dead rolling around in the dirt, laughing like a school boy, but then again, seeing the former Hitokiri Battousai doing the very same thing seemed strange as well.

********

Aoshi sat inside his study, surrounded by pile upon pile of papers and books. He read silently in the dim light, engrossed in some sort of financial report. He took a sip of tea, frowning at a certain passage he didn't find agreeable, and picked up a pen to make note of it.

The Aoiya was unnaturally quiet, and for some reason that broke his concentration greatly. He knew that the men folk left to spend some time in town, taking Himura and the boy samurai with them, but the women were strangely silent as well, sitting outside perhaps, enjoying the spring evening. Still, he expected it to be a little livelier with visitors, surely Misao and Okina would engage in some sort of ludicrous tiff, or the Himura woman would beat her husband and student senseless for leaving her behind, but it never happened.

He once scoffed at Himura for putting up with such simpletons, not understanding why such a strong man would allow himself to belittled by such common people. There was no doubt in his mind that the Battousai actually enjoyed listening to his wife yell at him, or seeing her beat that arrogant student of her senseless each day. The red hair samurai even pledged a unique and deep friendship with the dense and cocky ex gangster, Sanosuke. It absolutely baffled him, even bothered him to some extent, but since his return to the Aoiya, he was beginning to understand.

Though it took some time for him to realize it, he actually enjoyed listening to Misao's constant, relentless babbling. The twittering of her voice always caught his attention, though he did well in hiding it. He actually could go so far to say he looked forward to the hasty rancor that constantly caused Okina and Misao to fight and tease one another day in and out. He had no idea why he found these things entertaining, but somehow it made him feel a bit more secure in this place he called home.

He squinted against the dimming light of the lantern before deciding it best not to give himself a headache. He slowly rose to light another in the corner of the room, but froze immediately as he felt someone watching him. He peeled his gaze away from the paper in his hand and guided it carefully to the doorway, which was left partially open to allow some fresh air into the room. Cold, blue eyes settled on the tiny form that stood just inside the room, clutching a small blanket in one hand.

Kenji's flame red hair stood out this way and that, ruffled from sleep, and his tiny yakuta was twisted about his waist in an unusual angle. Large eyes drooped tiredly as he gazed back at Aoshi with mild interest.

He had woke up and discovered himself in a strange room, his parents were no where to be seen, yet he did not cry out like a normal child would. Instead, he gathered his blanket and set out to find them, a solid sense of love and trust holding any worries and fears of abandonment at bay.

Strangely enough, his late night wanderings did not unearth his parent's whereabouts, but brought him up short at the door of the dimly lit room. The presence inside was far to intriguing to pass up, and being an inquisitive child by nature, Kenji chose to investigate.

The man he found inside was mildly intimidating, but Kenji was too tired to really care. He watched the man for several moments before he padded quietly into the room, dragging his blanket behind him and rubbing one eye free of sleep. He stopped when he reached the edge of the tall western style desk, peering up questioningly at the blue eyed man before him. "It's dark," he stated.

Aoshi blinked in surprise at the silky soft tone of the child's voice. The pale eyes, lined with sleep watched him closely with out fear, waiting patiently for the man to respond.

Aoshi wasn't sure what he was to do. Children rarely approached him freely, usually shying away from his stoic demeanor and silent brooding. Small eyes always watched him cautiously, running to hide behind their mother's skirts when he met their weary gazes, but this child was waiting for him to speak, his look almost demanding.

"He reminds me of Misao chan when she was little," he thought. He could remember sitting in the yard of the Aoiya as a tiny Misao played recklessly with Hannya and Shikijo, the small girl completely oblivious to her companion's frightening characteristics. She saw them only for what they really were, good, honest, loving men, who would do anything for her. She never passed judgement on them for being different and such courage was often lacking in small children, yet standing before him, he saw the same strength and defiance inside the Battousai's child that the little Misao once had.

Aoshi moved from behind his desk, closing in on his small intruder, his expression perplexed. "Why isn't he frightened of me like all the rest?" he though to himself. The boy didn't even take a step back as Aoshi stooped low, leveling him with an icy gaze. The child actually gave him a bored, if not pitiful look, small brows arching slightly at the sudden closeness.

"Where does he get his confidence?" Aoshi frowned, his mouth turning downward compared to his usual straight lipped expression.

Aoshi studied the boy and almost smiled at the uncanny resemblance between father and son, "What's the matter Himura chan," he asked, surprised at the gentle tone of his voice, "Your not afraid of the dark are you?"

Kenji shook his head, his loose mane flopping here and there.

Aoshi cocked his head slightly, "Well, we should put you back to bed." He scooped the child up into his arms, mildly surprised at how light and frail the boy was, but quickly remembering whose child he actually was, "It's too late for you to be up and your parents will be worried when they find you missing." He carefully tucked Kenji's blanket under one arm and shifted the child to rest on his hip, his years of raising Misao not completely lost on him yet.

"They find me," the boy said in his soft, quiet voice, "Father will."

Aoshi's brows shot up, the sureness and lack of concern in the boy's tone catching him complete off guard.

"I not tired," Kenji continued, squirming in the man's arms and pulling himself up to peek over the broad shoulder. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the desk behind them, strewn with papers and other miscellaneous items.

Aoshi stood frozen, feeling the child's warm breath against his ear and the tiny hand that worked its fingers unconsciously against his neck. He held the boy in his arms, trying to reason out the situation at hand, but his mind was flying out of control with confusion. His solid resolve and thick, steel walls began to crumble around him at the irreproachable nature of this child. The Himura boy's innocence was intoxicating and his curiosity infectious, somehow igniting a kindling flame inside Aoshi's heart that had long since died out. Suddenly, like a spell had been cast, Aoshi found himself actually wanting the child's company, to watch him and learn from him, as strange at it sounded in his own mind.

For the first time in many years, Aoshi gave into his desires and shoved logic into the corner of his brain, tucking it away for reasons even he couldn't understand. He knew the best thing would be to put the child back in his room, but a sneaking suspicion told him that the boy wouldn't stay there very long. He could remember the sleepless nights he had, trying to keep a little Misao tucked into her bed, only to find her curled up next to him an hour or two later. His only option was to bar the door shut to keep her in her own room, but he could never bring himself to be so cruel. He endured the kicking and failing arms of her wild sleep, calming her restlessness only when he held her close to him in a tight embrace.

He sighed to himself and turned back to his desk, "That's work, Himura chan," he shifted the boy in his arms, "If your good, you can stay here for awhile with me, until your father comes to get you." He could hardly believe the words came out of his own mouth, normally content to spend countless days locked away in the study, having no contact with anyone except those who brought him food and drink. It seemed absolutely preposterous that the he, the master of meditation and control would suddenly desire the company of a mere toddler.

He shrugged it off, deciding to humor himself and Kenji, telling himself the boy's parents would discover him missing and find him soon enough. Until then, he would watch over the child and make sure he was safe from any harm or trouble.

Carefully depositing the small boy onto the desktop, Aoshi moved away some of the papers and ink wells, making more room for the two of them. He settled into his horribly uncomfortable wooden western style chair, before removing Kenji from his current place on the desk and into his lap. He picked up the paper he had earlier been reading and began to study it once again, though not really seeing the words. His mind was focused more on the tiny figure positioned in his lap.

Kenji sat quietly, his hand folded politely in lap, tucked away in the folds of his yakuta. Inculpable eyes studied the writings on the paper before him with intense interest. The striking contrasts of black on white, the random patters of kanji completely captivating him. He remained unmoving as Aoshi took a pen and dipped it into an ink well, his eyes watching each movement of the mans hands intently, as if memorizing the gentle strokes and sweeping lines.

Little fingers twitched inside their hiding place and Kenji squirmed in Aoshi's lap. He made a small noise and turned to look at the dark haired man with wide, curious eyes.

"Hmm?" Aoshi could see the question in the boy's face, and he glance quickly at the pen in his hand, "Would you like to try Himura chan?" He pulled a few blank pieces of paper out from underneath a stack of books and placed it before him. He was certain the boy could not read nor write, being far to young to understand schooling of that sort, but he remembered Misao spending hours scribbling away on sheets of paper. Her drawings never made any sense, but it didn't matter, just so long as she was kept happy.

He placed the pen in Kenji's hand, showing him how to hold it properly, then nodded at the boy.

The pen was large and heavy in Kenji's small grasp, he held it awkwardly as he made a few random swipes across the paper. He paused slightly, seeing the thick dark lines that he had made, absolutely fascinated with his creation. The movement of his small hand slowly increased and soon the paper was full of various lines and inkblots. "Look't that," the boy giggled, holding up his masterpiece, obviously pleased with his artwork. The admiration was only fleeting though, and he tossed the doodle to the floor before grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, his scribbling becoming intensely ferocious as his excitement grew.

Aoshi could feel the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement as he watched the youngster laugh and draw, throwing papers here and there once they served their purpose. To be so carefree and able to find joy in something as simple as pen and paper was indeed a wondrous thing, and just watching the giggling boy in his lap play so freely refreshed his own worn and weary mind. Compared to adults, children were the smart ones. They let nothing pass them by, grabbing each new experience and taking it for all it was worth, not fearing the what-ifs and why-nots that plagued the minds of adults. If only people could remain small, the world would never know harshness and despair.

He wasn't quite certain how long the Himura boy was in his room before he felt a strong, familiar presence standing at his door. The boy noticed it as well, his animated scribbling halting suddenly as his attention snapped to the door.

"Oro?" he whispered, mimicking his father's unique exclamation.

Kenshin emerged from the shadows of the hall, his expression slightly worried, yet overwhelmingly perplexed. Upon his return to the Aoiya he found his wife outside and Kenji missing from their room. He did not bother to inform Kaoru of the child's absence, knowing she would unleash utter chaos in her panic, when the boy was undoubtedly still inside the building. It did not take Kenshin long to locate his small fugitive, but the last place he expected to find him was seated on the lap of Aoshi Shinomori.

Kenshin had to blink twice to believe what he was seeing. The two of them were surrounded by heaps of discarded papers, each one full of harsh lines and blobs of ink. Pens and inkwells were tossed carelessly around the room, obviously thrown away into he corners once their purpose had been served.

Kenji smiled big at his father, pale eyes dancing in delight. He turned to look up at Aoshi, "See," the boy said pointedly, scrunching his eyes closed in glee as the man nodded slightly in agreement.

Kenshin had to force his mouth to remain shut, knowing his jaw would hit the floor if he dared open it. It was strange enough to see the cold, stone-faced man entertaining his son, but now it was apparent they actually had a conversation with one another. His mind told him he was seeing things, perhaps he had too much saki in town, though he didn't feel drunk.

Aoshi noted the bewildered look on the samurai's face, "He said you would come for him," he stated, moving Kenji off of his lap and pushing the boy gently towards his father.

"Is that so," Kenshin replied, still staring at the man, trying to read his expression, but failing.

"Hai."

Kenshin tore his gaze away from Aoshi, ashamed at his unintended rudeness, he did not mean to stare at the man so, but it was impossible to hide his shock, "I'm sorry Shinomori san, I hope he did not disrupt you too much." Kenshin was well aware of the mass destruction his son was capable of, and was relieved to find that the study and Aoshi were both still intact.

Aoshi just shrugged indifferently, moving to pick up the mess that surrounded him. "He wasn't that big of a distraction, " he stated, keeping his voice monotone and cold, "But I think it best you not leave a child like that unattended for to long."

Kenshin frowned at the man, slightly perturbed at Aoshi's barb, "I see," he stated, moving stiffly to where his son stood, "Thank you for watching over him Shinomori san, I'll let you get back to work. Those are some very interesting drawings you're working on there." Kenshin smiled smugly as he bent down to pick up his son, allowing his sharp retort to sink in for a moment. By the state of the room, it was apparent Aoshi hadn't been working at all, instead he was playing with little Kenji, and Kenshin wasn't going to let it slide past him, not now at least.

Aoshi glared hard at the red haired samurai, but did not bother to return the chide.

Kenshin held Kenji close to him, "Kenji chan, you should be in bed," he stated in his sternest voice, "And it's not polite to bother Shinomori san. He's very…" His voice became muffled as Kenji placed two tiny hands over his father's mouth, staring deeply into the violet eyes. Content that his father was properly shushed, he turned back to the tall man watching them from the corner of the desk, and cast him a large, warm smile.

Kenshin shook his head slightly as he took noticed of the small sparks of light in Aoshi's icy eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth, "Kenji chan, lets go to bed," he stated, wanting to leave all of this behind him for now, but knowing he'd be up half the night thinking about what he just witnessed.