Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Memories in Kyoto ❯ Ghosts and Memories ( Chapter 4 )

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Ghosts and Memories

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The train slowed to a stop. Kenshin looked out the window on the opposite side. They had finally arrived to Kyoto. He watched the platform, spotting a familiar girl that stood there. Blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight as a long braid hung down her back. It was none other than Makimachi Misao.

She was much older, now a young woman. Her face was sleeker and her form taller and more fit. Slender hands waved through the air as she spotted Kenshin and the others. Despite, these obvious changes, there was one thing that will always remain the same. Her smile. Yes, no one could forget that childish grin of hers.

Yahiko jumped out of his seat and exited the train, landing on the platform with Kaoru close behind him. Kenshin followed her out, putting on his rurouni smile. Sano dashed out of the train, panting and sweating.

"Hey, Himura!" she greeted. "Hey, Kaoru! Yahiko!" She paused, looking at a flustered Sano. "Hiya, rooster head!" She raised her hand and gave a hard slap on the back. Sano stood, towering over Misao.

"Watch it, weasel girl…" he threatened, holding up his fist. Kenshin sighed, trying to prevent a fight from breaking out. Misao happily obliged, shifting into a battle stance and preparing to draw the knives she hid in the sleeves of her shirt. Sano just stuck out his lower jaw, readying himself for a duel.

"Be careful what you say to my wife."

Sano froze, slowly lowering his fist. He turned to find none other than Shinomori Aoshi standing there. Cold blue eyes glared at him, radiating an icy dagger that would make any man fall to his knees in fear. Sano laughed nervously, Aoshi's slightly taller form making his body seem small in comparison.

"Oh, Aoshi!" Misao complained, walking over to the former leader of the Oniwaban group.

"Wait… wife?" Sano asked disbelievingly. He pointed to Misao then to Aoshi and then back to Misao. "Ya mean, you guys…"

Aoshi cleared his throat, blushing slightly. He turned his head to the side, watching the passengers come down from the train. Misao, on the other hand, was toned with red, giving a self-indulgent smile to her friends.

"Yeah, it's Shinomori Misao now," she explained, her voice thick with embarrassment. The blush in Aoshi's cheeks grew deeper in hue, causing him to swallow with apprehension.

Kaoru stepped forward, taking Misao's hand. "You guys are married!" she squealed, jumping up and down with joy. Misao joined her without hesitation. Sano just nudged Aoshi, giving him a sly wink and a smirk.

"So, Misao, how is Okina and everyone at the Aoiya?" Kenshin asked, interrupting the loud chatters of his comrades.

"They're okay, I guess," she winked. "But if you want to find out yourself, they're at the Ryotei restaurant."

Ryotei… Kenshin furrowed his brow. Why does this name sound so familiar?

"The Ryotei, you say?" he asked. Misao nodded and looked at her friend curiously.

"Why?" she inquired. Kenshin just shook his head, waving off her question. Kaoru watched him. Something was going on with Kenshin and she was going to find out what.

Misao began to walk with Aoshi beside her. Yahiko and Sano followed, hoping that the food would be good over there. Kaoru walked close behind, listening to her student and rooster head's prayers. Kenshin lingered, his sandals making a soft, scratching sound against the dirt ground.

The Ryotei… It was so familiar. He had heard it before but he couldn't remember where… Kenshin looked on ahead where his friends strolled to the restaurant. The only way to find out was for him to enter Kyoto and remember.

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Yes, he remembered. All to well. This part of Kyoto gleamed with pride and joy for it had many things to offer. Lanterns hung over passer-bys, dangling with its partners on the same string. Cherry blossoms danced with the wind, swirling gracefully around him. He heard his kimono rustle at the breeze as it rushed past him. So it didn't change at all. It was still the same.

Kenshin stopped, recalling. He waited as if he expected something to happen. The ghost of his memories seemed to walk out into the sunlight, laughing their hallow laughs and giggling echoes. Small children frolicked through the streets, dragging a small toy that flew in the air.

He shifted his violet eyes to the mirages that stood before him. This recollection felt so… good. He belonged here. He was… in his place. Footsteps reached his ears. He hesitated, slowly moving to the form that made the sound. A young man stood there in a kimono that was much like his only with a blue hakama. Straw sandals enveloped white socks and made soft, scraping sounds against the earth. A sword hung at his side, along with a wakizashi. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face but nothing could hide the obvious. Red hair flowed down his back, moving in waves as he walked.

Kenshin watched this figure. He knew very well who this was. The boy paused as if contemplating whether or not to continue walking. Kenshin swallowed nervously, unsure of what was to happen. The ghost of his former self lifted his head, showing a clear image of his face. Amber eyes stared straight ahead, oblivious to the man who watched him. The figure walked on but slower this time as if it noticed the violet eyes that were locked upon him, not daring to blink or release its gaze.

The mirage shifted his amber eyes to Kenshin, an amber so intense in hue that it was enough to strike down the courage of the strongest warrior. The rurouni felt a chill run up his spine at the returning glare, though he knew it was but a passing glance. He kept his eyes on his ghost, showing no signs of fear or weakness.

His former self disappeared into a nearby restaurant, leaving not a trace. The breeze blew ominously toward the entrance, causing the cloth that hung in the door to flap violently.

"Kenshin?" He shook his head, snapping out of his daze. He felt the images of those long gone fade away as if they were never there. Kaoru watched him, concern clouding her blue eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Kenshin smiled and nodded, saying nothing. He walked quicker, passing Kaoru without a glance to where Misao and Aoshi were. They stopped into front of what looked like a small pub, full of chatters and hearty laughs.

This place… he thought. Kenshin looked around, feeling, remembering familiar surroundings. Indeed, he had been here before. He knew it. The ghost of his memories, the former assassin, Hitokiri Battousai, had led him here though it may be just a fluke. No… it was too real. More real than he wanted to believe.

He had recalled himself walking to this place for a reason but… what was it? Why did it lead him here? What importance is this small spot in such a large city? What did it mean?

He had to know. Everything felt all too familiar. Whatever is was… it was something crucial.

Kenshin continued to observe the restaurant, taking in any thing that might help him evoke. Tables and benches were lined along the windows and the inner portion of the pub. It had a dimmer atmosphere here, only lit by the sunlight through the windows and the few kerosene lamps that hung on nails in the wooden beams.

"Himura-san!" a raspy voice greeted. He turned to the sound, identifying the voice of Okina. His friend looked much older now, his wrinkles much deeper and the gray in his hair changing to a white. Despite these clear signs of age, his skin had a healthy glow. Okina smiled warmly, his mustache curling at the ends. He stood next to a long table, his form solid and strong.

Kenshin bowed slightly, returning the smile with a chuckle. "Okina-sama, you look well," he replied, hiding the dark emotions in his voice.

"Hello, Himura-san!" chimed the rest of the group, Okon and Omasu waving excitedly.

"It's been quite a while, hasn't it?" asked Shiro, a man who was tall and lean that sat on a bench near the corner, leaning on the table. His face would not be visible if not for the sun. A larger man sat next to him, smiling. This was Kuro, one who was often referred to as a quiet giant. Both wore regular blue gis with dark navy hakamas. Okon and Omasu sat opposite of them, their hair tied into neat buns, secured so that it wouldn't fall in a tangled mess over their colorful kimonos.

"Please, come and sit," Okina invited, seating himself next to Kuro. Sano and Yahiko dashed to the table, praying that the food would come soon. They were famished. Kaoru followed them, sighing and pouting. Yahiko sat next to Okon, inclining his head in formality. Sano sat on the other side next to Okina with Kaoru beside him. Sano stared at Yahiko, silently raising the challenge of who could eat faster. The teen just smirked and nodded. Kenshin just chuckled and shook his head. He took his place by Yahiko. Misao sat next Kaoru and Aoshi across from her.

"So Okina-sama, what have you been up to for the past four years?" Kaoru asked.

"Well, not much but business has been good for the Aoiya. Many have come to stay for the Cherry Blossom Festival. The Sakura trees are beautiful this time of year," the older man replied.

"I'm sure they are," Kenshin commented. Kaoru and Okina struck up a conversation soon joined by the rest of the group. Their words seemed distant, spoken in murmurs and echoes. His eyes moved to a lone table in the middle of the room, a lamp hanging behind it and shining its dim light upon the surface.

He narrowed his eyes, watching, waiting. That table… there was something about it… a blur of images flashed through his mind, giving him no clue of what they displayed. He clenched his teeth in frustration. What was it?

He stood slowly, his violet eyes focused yet in a trance. Kenshin walked, his feet suddenly heavy. His hands were outstretched, his fingertips ticklish and warm at the texture of wood. He swallowed, his breath quivering and uneven.

He felt his mind flash back, back to the Revolution. The ghosts of his memories rose, again free and roaming. Sounds of laughter and the rustle of people filled his ears. It was nightfall here in his memory. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. His eyes went wide with surprise. The smell of… white plum.

Warmth rushed up his fingers, causing him to flinch. Violet eyes looked to where his hand was. A ghostly hand enveloped his, transparent and yet so existent. He felt that it was there, it was real, not just some long past recollection. The white sleeve of a kimono hung down from the wrist, making the hand teem with a healthy glow. He followed the stitches in the clothing, up to the shoulders. Raven hair interrupted his scan, falling in long strands. They framed a small face, eyes determined and strong. This face was so familiar, so beautiful…

"Tomoe?" he whispered. She sat silently, sipping sake from a small cup. Kenshin sat down next to her, hesitantly, carefully. He knew it was impossible. Tomoe was dead... she couldn't be here… anymore. He dared not say this aloud in fear of losing her once more, not caring that she was just a mirage. But then… his hand shifted. He felt her. She was real.

"Tomoe, I've missed you so…" he whispered to her ghost. He smiled. For the longest time, he had never felt like this. He belonged here. This was his place. Beside Tomoe. Kenshin felt like he was back in the days of the Revolution when she was alive. He was… happy. Truly happy.

A touch of a hand. Kenshin broke out of his memory, gasping in surprise. The ghosts of his memories faded away once again, leaving him to the present.

"Excuse me," a voice muttered. Kenshin shook his head, blinking in disbelief. What the---?

"P-pardon me," he stuttered. He felt another weight on the bench, making him narrow his eyes slightly. A boy?

The boy was adorned in a white gi and dark blue hakama, his form seeming to shrink in it. Firm armor was tied to his arms, covered by the sleeves of the kimono. The lower part of the gi was shaped to look like pants, allowing free movement and flexibility. Shin guards were tied to his calves to secure this form. White socks and worn straw sandals were on his feet. A sword hung from the obi, the sheath scraping the ends of the bench.

The figure shifted, feeling violet eyes on him. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face, making him seem invisible in the dim light. Kenshin felt that he had to see his face. He didn't know why exactly but he felt that he needed to.

The dark form obliged as if he read Kenshin's unsaid question. He took off his hat, revealing red hair that was tied into a high ponytail and ran down his back in silky waves. Bangs shielded violet eyes that stared straight ahead.

Kenshin swallowed. This… boy… He had red hair… and his eyes were a deep violet. This boy was so much like… him. Too much like him. But… his face.

His face was of a delicate frame, the bangs of red hair hanging on the sides, shading the determination that was in his eyes. His face was like… Tomoe's.

His eyes widened, clouded with skepticism. This young man was like a combination of him and Tomoe. It was strange… Kenshin knew for sure that he had no family at least, not that he knew of. This boy's face was that of Tomoe's for that he was sure. But Tomoe died before she gave birth to any children…

Who was this boy?