Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ A Giant and the Lion Cub ❯ Chapter7 ( Chapter 7 )

Ahh, yes…Kenshin going all battousai about Kenji being gone, he did over react a bit, not knowing the full circumstances, but us parents tend to do that (and Kenshin strikes me as the type to be a bit more paranoid than most). As for personal experience, maybe a little…I've never lost my son anywhere for more than a few minutes (a lifetime goes by though), but I'll tell you what, nothing is more frightening than turning around and seeing them gone from your sight. It's really hard to even put into words actually, but instant panic comes into mind…automatically, you think the worst thing possible and freak out…(only to have your kid staring at you like your insane when you find him a few isles over)…I can't express what I would do to someone if they tried to harm my child…I don't think there's a rating possible for that kind of expression here…even thinking about it gets me angry (I think Kenshin said it well in the fic)…. My son is seven years old now and the most important thing that will ever be in my life…Anyway….Writing Kenji is the most difficult, it's been a long time since I was his age (22 years actually), and I want him to be a bit wiser than your average three year old….Kids are smarter than we think, they should NEVER be underestimated, believe me, I speak from experience….LOL

Standard disclaimers apply

Kenji willed his weary feet to move, concentrating on each step with all his might. He glanced up occasionally to make sure he was still able to see the swaying white fabric of the familiar hakama. He need not cling the to the silky fabric to follow, an unconscious tie binding him to the flowing cloth that moved through the crowd several feet in front of him.

His tiny feet hurt now, aching and protesting each step he took. They had walked for miles it seemed, not stopping once, which frustrated Kenji greatly. His young energy reserves were almost completely tapped, his patience lingering by a hair's breath. Glancing up again to catch sight of the hakama, he felt himself getting angry at the relentless pace the adults set, his mother and the rest nowhere to been seen, obviously unaware of him and his fathers faltering steps. It took a great deal of focus to maintain his quiet, well natured demeanor now and he grit his teeth against the tantrum that threatened to roar from with in.

Suddenly, Kenji was knocked off his feet, falling smartly on his rump into the dirt. He blinked several times and rubbed his now sore nose, aware he had run into something quite solid. His eyes tracked up the white hakama that he assaulted moments before, reaching up with a small hand to pull himself to his feet.

He yanked that same hand back, as if bitten, when he quickly realized the hakama's owner did not have the face of his father.

A young man, with dark eyes and deep brown hair stared down at him, startled at the sudden impact that nearly knocked him down. He was young, in his late teens or early twenties and dressed in a deep blue gi and white hakama that almost matched Kenji's father's perfectly. He cast the boy a friendly smile, and helped him to his feet. "I'm sorry little one," he said, dusting off Kenji's already dirty kimono, "I didn't see you there!"

Kenji did not return the smile, instead, he stared blankly at the man, trying to figure out what stranger did with his father.

The dark haired youth just grinned and ruffled Kenji's unruly hair, "Where're your parents," the young man asked him, stooping low to peer at Kenji. He looked him up and down, seeing the child was an absolute mess. His dark green kimono had obviously seen better days. The once silky, rich cloth was smeared with dust and grime, while the hem was caked with mud. The man gave the boy a sad smile as he took a small wrist into his hand, shaking his head at the frail, twig like arms. "He must have wandered up here from the orphanage," the man thought to himself, "What a pity, such a pretty child too."

Kenji regarded the man carefully, arching a small brow when he felt his arm being squeezed slightly in the large hands, briefly wondering if the man was sizing him up to eat him.

The man sighed, dropping Kenji's slender arm. He couldn't leave the child out here in the street like this. The boy was far too young to be unsupervised and it was amazing he had not yet been trampled flat by the surging crowd. It really didn't surprise him though, orphanages rarely kept decent tabs on their children. This boy was probably left under the care of some older boys, who found him too much of a burden during such a festive event, and left him alone to fend for himself.

The least he could do for such an unfortunate child was take him back to safety. "Do you want to go home," he asked the red haired boy, flashing a friendly, but sympathetic smile.

All fears of being eaten disappeared when the word "home" was uttered. Kenji wanted nothing more than to go home, to his home in Tokyo. If he wasn't so tired, he would have jumped up and down for joy and thrown his arms around the man's neck, but instead settled for a vigorous nod of the head.

The young man smiled, and scooped the boy up, carrying him back to his wagon that waited in a nearby side street. With a slap of the reins the two of them were off, making their way to the orphanage that lay on the outskirts of Kyoto, far away from the noisy festival

*********

Misao returned the Aoiya after delivering Aoshi's kodachi's and clothing. It was painfully quiet inside the restaurant as she quietly stole her way down the hall to Kaoru and Kenshin's room, slipping silently inside to room as not to disturb the woman inside. Her body was too weathered and in shock to deal with the events that had occurred and Okina had given the distraught mother a sedative, sending her into a deep sleep for the time being.

Misao slid the door shut with a soft click and turned around to see the huddled form of Kaoru sitting upon her futon. Kenji's discarded yukata twisted into her fingers as the hand stoked the soft fabric. Her face was pale from crying, and her eyes were dark with sleep and drowsiness of medication. If she knew the girl was there, she did not acknowledge it, her painful stare fixed only upon the clothing in her hand.

Misao swallowed hard, her heart knotting inside her chest. She realized that the woman now wore one of her husband's gi's as a sleeping robe, tied loosely around her waist. "She's in so much pain," Misao thought to herself, moving closer to her friend, "She's trying to keep them both as close as possible." She knelt next to the futon, her sad eyes studying the woman before her, not sure what or if she should say anything at all. There were no words to express the grief and saddness she felt for the couple.

"It smells like him," Karou whispered in a weak voice. She drew the robe to her face, inhaling deeply and rubbing the soft cloth across her lips. Her eyes shut as the tears fell again, her body constricting against the emotions inside her body.

It was useless for her to go and search for her son. She wanted to run through the streets, crying his name over and over again, but her body would not cooperate. If she tried to stand, she collapsed, the sobs overtaking her small form as the terror she felt consumed her.

Her son was gone, disappeared from their world with in an instant. She did not know if he was hurt, scared, cold or hungry. He had no one to look after him, no one to dry his tears or hold him close. He was alone in a world he knew nothing about and he could not understand, even with his amazing intelligence, if people tried to harm him. There was no way for a boy so small to defend himself against a past as large and dark as his fathers.

She held no malice against Kenshin, she couldn't, no matter how hard she wanted to blame someone for this tragedy. While she felt the burnings of grief inside her heart, she knew he felt much more. His cry still echoed in her ears, like someone plunged a hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. His life was taken away from him, everything he lived for was now gone, and with her own eyes, she witnessed his solution. He would give up everything he strived to become to get it back.

She covered her eyes with her hands, crying so hard her head began to reel. "Kenshin," she sobbed, "Kenji…"

Misao felt her own tears welling in her eyes. "Kaoru chan, everything will be okay," she choked, unable to watch her friend's pain silently any longer.

Kaoru shook her head, "You don't know that Misao."

Misao nodded slightly, "You have to have hope though." She wiped away her own tears and put a hand on her friends trembling shoulder, "Have faith in Himura san and Aoshi sama, they'll bring Kenji chan back to us."

Karou sighed shakily, her nod barely noticeable, her friends words were only slightly comforting.

***************

People stepped out of the swordsman's path as he made his way through the crowd. They followed the amber gaze wearily, his fierceness and anger etched into a dark scowl, warning away anyone who dared approach him. The eyes searched the crowd relentlessly, his desperation not lost on the onlookers concerned faces. He stopped at several booths, exchanging words with the merchants, and bowing stiffly when they shook their heads.

Kenshin narrowed his eyes as he dipped his head in half-hearted thanks to one of the salesmen he questioned. No one had seen a small, red haired boy in a dark green kimono. He had returned to all the places they visited that day, hoping his son would be drawn to one of them, but found nothing. Now he searched the booths again, questioning people randomly, but extracting nothing. A few people remembered him and the boy, but not a soul had seen the child roaming the streets alone.

His findings only made his fear worse. If the boy merely wandered off, lost in the crowd, someone would have seen him. People noticed Kenji, he was banking on that as a solution to find his son's whereabouts, but his during his questioning, no one mentioned seeing the flame haired, gem eyed boy anywhere. He was losing hope, slowly realizing that his son was no longer anywhere near the festival, and a boy that small could not travel that quickly alone.

Kenshin grit his teeth in frustration and cursed the city of Kyoto under his breath. He hated this place, with all it's horrid memories and shadows. Nothing good ever came from Kyoto, it was a seeping wound on the face of society and he hated himself for bringing his family here. He should have known better, his peaceful life lulled him into a false sense of security, allowing himself to think things had actually changed. He fed them to the wolves, tossing them into danger like carcasses, and his guilt ran deeper than it ever had before.

Yahiko came barreling around a corner, running into Kenshin's stiff form, falling onto his back into the dust. His chest heaved from his exertions and he lay there on the ground trying to catch his breath. Kenshin stooped over the boy, making sure he was unhurt from his collision.

Yahiko almost flinched as the hands lifted him into a sitting position and gently dusted him off. The touch was smooth and light, the same as the Kenshin he had lived with for the past several years and Yahiko scolded himself for thinking it would be any different. Kenshin, no matter what his mood or temperament, would always care for him, it was doing him a dishonor to think other wise. "Thanks Kenshin," Yahiko replied, hoping the man didn't see his initial reaction.

Kenshin only nodded, satisfied that at least this part of his family was unhurt for the time being. He stared down at the boy, waiting for him to continue.

"I…I haven't found anything yet," Yahiko said, unable to meet the gaze of his mentor. The intensity frightened him, but it was the pain he could see deep in the man's eyes that drove him to look at the street. Kenshin was hurting, falling apart before his eyes and there was nothing he could do or say to stop it.

Yahiko feared for Kenji as well, the boy was a younger brother to him in all but blood. Though the child gave him absolute fits, he loved the boy deeply and his heart ached for his safe return.

A strong hand reached out and clasped his shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you Yahiko. We'll keep looking."

Kenshin watched the boy dart away, grateful he was able to hide the sinking feeling deep inside his gut. "Where are you Kenji chan?" This was all his fault, he should have not allowed his own fatigue and weariness to overcome him and dull his senses. A good father would never take his eyes off his child in a place such as this, but he allowed Kenji to stray too far. He lost him. His fault. The most important thing in his life gone due to his carelessness.

Kenshin shut his eyes against the surge of grief and guilt, both overwhelmingly powerful when combined as one. "I'm so sorry Kenji chan. Please be okay. I'm coming for you." He had no clues, no trails to follow, no suspects, but he could not allow those words be empty. With his resolve sturdier once again, Kenshin continued down the road, moving away from the festival, searching for a single grain of sand in a massive beach.

********

Kenji stared blankly as he was lifted from the wagon and set down on the rugged steps of the orphanage. He watched as his dark haired rescuer waved to him and cheerily shouted a goodbye, wishing him the best of luck in his life. Kenji's mouth twitched slightly as the wagon disappeared from sight and he began to frown. Yes, they'd traveled a long way by his standards, but he wasn't so ignorant to realize that the dilapidated building behind him was not his home. The dojo was indeed need of work, but it never looked or smelled as bad as this.

Kenji chewed on his cheek, scowling at his current situation. Nothing in the area looked familiar, most of the buildings were fairly run down and ill kept and the street was full of deep holes and ruts, obviously neglected by the city for some reason or another. The place was dreary and dark, the air almost stale. It reminded him of the part of town where his Uncle Sano lived, but something didn't feel quite right about it.

Kenji shrugged and hobbled off the porch, his feet not quite as sore, having rested from his long ride in the wagon. He looked to his left and right, trying to decided which way would take him to his chicken headed uncles home, and decided on the latter for some unknown reason. Uncle Sano never had any food or toys to play with, but he did have a futon and nice warm home that Kenji could rest in until his father came to get him.

Daylight was starting to fade away, and Kenji's discouragement was growing by the minute. All the houses looked the same and the streets ran together, getting him even more lost. He was starting to get hungry too, his belly rumbling and constricting against its emptiness.

The streets were virtually empty in this part of town, and the people Kenji did see were usually stumbling down the street, large jugs clutched in their hands. He'd seen bottles like that before at his house, and watched his father and Sano drink from them occasionally. Somehow, the sight of something familiar eased his mind, even though it was just a simple, fleeting detail.

Kenji trudged on, listening to the sounds of his growling belly and devising ways to make his father pay dearly for taking so long to find him. A normal child would have settled down and cried, but Kenji always preferred to take matters into his own hands. He was a willful child, with no use for tears most of the time, and his courage surpassed that of those who were twice his age. His stubbornness and independence often proceeded him within their small family circle, along with his quick wits and cunning.

As he rounded another corner, a sharp cry snapped him to attention. He stopped immediately, craning a small head in the direction of the noise, his plotting halted and belly forgotten. Curiosity pulled him closer to the sounds of a scuffle deep inside one of the dark ally ways. He crept quietly forward, peeking carefully around the edge of a building, straining to see inside the shadows.

He could make out two children, several years older than himself. A rather plump boy, with stringy dark hair, and a round head stood laughing over the form of a young girl. The boy's hand was raised far above his greasy crown, and in his grasp, Kenji could make out a wooden doll.

"Give it back, Aki," the girl shouted at her chubby tormentor, her face red from crying.

The boy snorted, and crushed the doll in his hand, a wooden leg falling with a soft thump into the dirt. "Girls are so stupid," he scoffed, throwing the rest of the broken toy behind him. He smiled at the girls outraged cry, thin lips drawn together in wicked pleasure.

Kenji's pale eyes darkened as he scowled at the boy, who was unaware of the audience he now had. Never in his life had he bore witness to such cruelty. Not even Yahiko's teasing mirrored something as horrible as this. Taking things that didn't belong to you was bad, and breaking them was even worse. Concepts like good and evil were beyond his reach still, but the ideals of what was right and wrong were well understood, followed up by an extremely strong sense of justice. "Bad! Bad! Bad!" Kenji thought to himself, watching the girl cry as the boy taunted her.

With a cunning eye he surveyed his surroundings, searching for a suitable mode of punishment for the nasty, wicked, toy-stealing criminal. Moving closer to the fray, he planted his small feet apart, and pointed a disapproving finger at the laughing boy, "That's no good," he shouted, "Very mean!" Narrowed eyes glinted a deep purple in the pale light of the ally. "Stop it," he barked in his tiny, whispery voice.

The boy froze, startled at the intrusion, and with worried eyes, searched for the adult that belonged with the small child who scolded him so freely. Seeing no escort, the boy grinned again with malicious intent. The red haired child glaring at him was far from threatening, so small a breeze could very well pick him up and carry him away. Slightly perturbed that his bullying was interrupted, he took a menacing step towards his little assailant. "What are you going to do about," he laughed, chubby cheeks rippling.

The girl ceased her crying, gathering up what was left of her doll and put herself between little Kenji and the larger boy. "Leave him alone Aki," she shouted at him, pushing Kenji backwards towards the main street, trying to get him to run.

Aki flashed a toothy grin, deciding that it would be much more fun to put the tiny brat on the roof and watch him cry, then stand around and break the toys of girls. "I'm going to teach that little shrimp a lesson," he laughed, small eyes glinting.

A devilish smile slowly crept upon Kenji's face, dark, and wise beyond his years. He watched the boy lumber closer, and took note of the slight pause in his attackers steps, trying to figure out why the smaller boy wasn't running in fear. Kenji saw his chance, taking advantage of his opponent's puzzlement, and moved with surprising speed to the top of a crate. He took hold of a tattered awning and throwing as much force as he could muster, swung outward against the ragged fabric. The worn cloth gave way, as did the brittle, wooden holds, and crashed down on top of them. Kenji was tossed forward with the momentum, landing hard against a stack of empty crates, which in turn teetered, then fell, creating a domino effect. The boxes spilled, crashing against the building and even shattering a window in the process, the noise loud enough to cause people to come out of their homes.

Kenji giggled, his old worries of being lost and hungry gone, quickly replaced by his carefree self. He lay inside one of the fallen crates, only two ankles and muddy tabi visible, his kimono thrown up over his head. He did not need to sit up and survey the damage, he knew already that the destruction he caused just now was by far his most admirable masterpiece.

The best was yet to come anyway as a woman stormed out of her small shop, screeching in rage when she saw her awning ripped to shreds, as well as the broken window near the far corner of the building. Blazing with anger, the woman looked hard at Kenji, who had sat up when she came out of the store. He stared back at her with wide, astonished eyes, his mouth in a partial gape of shock. She slowly turned to see the girl holding a broken doll, her young face red from crying, and finally settled her dark glare onto the chubby boy struggling to push the pieces of a fallen crate off of him.

"AKI," the woman screamed, storming over to the boy, "You blasted son of a yukuza! What the hell do you think your doing!" She grabbed the boy by the ear and hauled him into a standing position. The chubby miscreant was obviously dazed, and fairly bruised from the calamity, but he wasn't badly injured, save his deplorable pride. He cried out in pain at the woman's fierce hold and pointed an accusing finger at Kenji.

Kenji blinked at the woman.

"You expect me to believe that scrap of a boy did all this? Do you think I'm an idiot? I don't care who your father is, but he'll pay for my window…." Her voice trailed off as she drug the boy further down the street.

A small grin stole over Kenji's lips as he watched them disappear, becoming nothing more than silhouettes in the rapidly approaching darkness. He suppressed a snicker, and began to pull himself free of the crate he sat in, bathing in the satisfaction of his current achievement.

"Humph," a gruff voice snorted, causing Kenji to jump as he eased himself down the side of the box, "Call it a hunch, but I don't think that kid much to do with making this mess."

Ohhhhh, lots of stuff going on in this chapter…Kenji is the creator of chaos….both knowingly and unknowingly…LOL…most kids are, but I want my Kenji to have it down to an art…So he wasn't stolen away, he wandered off and got mistaken for an orphan…what a nice man to give him a ride home…Kenshin and Kaoru are both walking a fine line right now, Yahiko is feeling guilty, Kenji is creating trouble to pass the time (making enemies to boot), who knows what Aoshi is up too (???), and now another stranger enters the picture…a new victim to experience the pandemonium Kenji is capable of creating……Thanks again everyone for the reviews, you are all way too kind!