Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ In Due Time ❯ Lost and Found ( Chapter 2 )

In Due Time

The first thing he was aware of was a throbbing pain in his head drowning out several other smaller, but still insistent pains throughout his body. Kenshin didn't move for a moment, just trying to assess the damage. He knew that his hands would be scraped up pretty badly. He'd managed to break some of his fall by grabbing at plants sticking out of the cliff's edge. And he was sure he had a lump on the head. He had, after all, been knocked unconscious when he'd hit the ground.

He tested a few of his limbs. Nothing felt broken. He was lucky that the cliff was on a slope, steep though it was.

“Hey, you're finally waking up!” a nearby voice suddenly piped up, startling the redhead. It sounded like the boy he'd heard earlier.

Kenshin's eyes snapped open and he sat up, instantly regretting it. His head felt like it was going to explode. Kenshin slumped forward a bit, holding his head and now feeling the knot forming there. “Oro...” he moaned softly.

“I kind of thought you were dead,” the boy continued.

Kenshin slowly opened his eyes again and looked at the youth who was kneeling beside him. He was a tall boy. Maybe ten or twelve years old, with dark eyes and black hair pulled back into a short ponytail. The boy wore a simple gray hakama and a green gi. Something about him reminded Kenshin a bit of Yahiko.

The rurouni managed a weak smile. “No. Not dead. I'm just sore, that I am.” He sent a concerned look at the boy. “Are you alright, though? I heard you cry out for help earlier.”

The boy's eyes widened, and he snapped indignantly, “I wouldn't cry out! I'm a swordsman. I'd fight and die before I'd do something so cowardly.” He scowled. “I'll have you know that my father was a samurai.”

Kenshin's smile grew. This boy was exactly like Yahiko, actually. “I'm sorry,” he said gently. “I didn't mean to insult you, that I did not. But if it wasn't you, then who? He sounded like he was in trouble...” Kenshin trailed off.

The boy shrugged, not looking particularly concerned. “I didn't hear anything, so he must be gone by now.” He watched Kenshin painfully move to get up. “Do you need help standing?”

Kenshin shook his head. “No, thank you,” he replied, slowly rising to his feet. He brushed off his hakama. “I think I'll be-” His eyes widened as his hand brushed where the sakabatou should have been. “My sword!”

The boy's interest perked up. “You're a swordsman, then?”

“Yes,” Kenshin murmured, distractedly, looking around. Where was it? It had to be nearby. If he lost this one, he may never be able to get another sakabatou made to replace it.

The boy scanned the area as well. “Ah!” he suddenly cried, running toward the river where something was glinting in the fading sunlight. He retrieved the item, and hurried back. “Is this it?” he asked, handing Kenshin the sheathed weapon.

The sheath was scratched and damaged from the fall, worrying Kenshin more. He slid the sword out, revealing the reverse blade in perfect shape, to his relief. “This is mine, that it is,” he replied softly. “Thank you for finding it. You have very good eyes.”

The boy was just staring at the sword as Kenshin sheathed it and hung it at his waist. “What is that?” he finally asked. “It was backwards. What good is a backwards sword?”

“It's called 'sakabatou,'” Kenshin replied calmly. “It's all I need.”

The boy shrugged, looking incredulous. “Whatever you say, swordsman.” He picked up his load of rice and jug of sake that he'd set down nearby. “I need to be getting this stuff home, or I'm going to be in trouble.” He sent Kenshin an assessing look. This short redhead with the useless sword. “Do you live around here, swordsman?” he asked.

Kenshin blinked at him, startled. “Oro? No. Actually, I was planning on visiting some friends...”

The boy nodded. “I figured as much. I've never seen you before.” He looked toward the gold disk of the sun, sinking behind the horizon. “It's kind of late to go visiting, isn't it? And these roads aren't safe when the sun sets. Not with all of the bandits that wander around Kyoto at night. Maybe you should come with me. We don't have much room. But if it's only for one night...”

“Thank you,” Kenshin said, smiling. “But I don't want to inconvenience your family...”

The boy grinned. “Don't worry about it. There's just the two of us, and the old man may be cranky, but he won't turn away a traveler.” The boy began walking toward a worn path. “Come on swordsman. We'll be safest going this way. And I have a proper katana, so I can protect us on the road.”

“Thank you,” Kenshin said again, joining him. He eyed the boy's heavy load. “If you're offering me both boarding and protection, then at least let me carry something.”

He didn't have to ask twice. The boy immediately handed him the jug of sake. “Here. I don't think you're in any shape to carry the rice.”

They walked the path in silence awhile, both lost in their own thoughts. Kenshin periodically glanced at the boy beside him. Even at his age, he was nearly Kenshin's height. Not that such a thing was much of a feat. But the boy would make a fine swordsman someday. He already had a strong ki and lots of pride. He carried himself well. And most importantly, he was caring in his own way. Concerned enough about other people to help an injured stranger he'd found near the road.

“So, swordsman,” the youth said, breaking the silence, “do you have a name?”

Kenshin hesitated uncomfortably. What to say? They were so near Kyoto. Even now, the name Himura Kenshin would be too easily associated with hitokiri Battousai. He didn't want this youth to know him as an assassin, and spend the night worrying about his own safety and that of the old man he lived with.

“Swordsman?”

Kenshin smiled at him, making his decision. “I am Rurouni,” he said softly. “Just a wanderer. I have no use for a name here.”

The boy stopped in his tracks, staring at the strange redhead. “Rurouni? Is that what I'm supposed to call you? That's no better than 'swordsman.' I can't even show you proper respect. What am I to call you? Rurouni-san?”

Kenshin laughed a little. The boy looked positively indignant. “'Rurouni' will be fine,” he insisted. “I don't need an honorific.”

The youth's eyebrows furrowed as he glared at his companion, clearly unhappy with this situation. “Alright, fine, Rurouni. If I'm to just call you that, then you don't need to know my full name. You can call me Miki. Just Miki.”

Kenshin bit back his laughter at the boy's stubborn irritation. Somehow knowing that it would only aggravate the situation. “Miki, then. That's a nice name.”

“Whatever,” Miki grumbled, shifting the weight of the rice. He began walking again. “We're almost home. Just through these trees.”

Kenshin looked where Miki was pointing, suddenly realizing where he was.

“Come on,” the boy said.

Kenshin stepped into the clearing and froze at the sight of the small shack. “You live... here?”

“Yeah,” I know it's not much...”

Kenshin shook his head and didn't move. “Miki,” he choked out. “Are you telling me that you live with Hiko Seijuro?”

The youth looked at him with some increased interest. “Yeah, why? Do you know my shishou?”

 

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of the great reviews! I appreciate it. "Out of Time" will hopefully be updated soon! Thanks to all of you!

Dewa mata!