Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Alchemy of Gold and Silver ❯ Decided ( Chapter 12 )

Chapter 12: Decided

 

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.

-Nelson Mandela

 

***

Hiko schooled his expression into neutrality with the ease born of a lifetime of practice, but he made no attempt to reign in his roiling ki. Three days of constant training, and still the baka could not see the point. It was time for a new approach.

 

“Sit,” he barked tersely. The young man's obedience was instantaneous, but even this only served to irk his teacher more. Could he not see how things had changed? It was almost as though he were attempting to pick up where he had left off, as though nothing had happened. Hiko wasn't going to stand for that.

 

“Tell me about the past five years.” Short, sweet, to the point. There was no way he was going to avoid this.

 

As usual, the baka wouldn't meet his eyes, though he was far too proud to lower his own as Kaoru would have were she ashamed. Instead, he fixed them at a point some distance over his master's left shoulder. The dark-haired man decided to leave it be for the moment. There were more important considerations to be dealt with.

 

“I joined the Isshin Shishi almost as soon as I left. I was a hitokiri, and did what you would expect. They called me Battousai. What else is there to tell?” The redhead's tone was flat, without inflection, and Hiko suppressed a growl.

 

Switching tactics, he brought up something else. “Why are you here?”

 

The question seemed to take his student by surprise, which Hiko counted as a good thing. At least he was getting a reaction. “To finish my training.”

 

Hiko briefly wondered whether the sound of his teeth grinding was audible, but decided it hardly mattered. He wasn't the most patient of men, but this was getting to be a waste of his time. “And why,” he intoned carefully, “did you decide, after all these years, that finishing your training was actually necessary?”

 

That had hit home, and it was painfully obvious. “There is a man I must defeat, and I will not be able to unless I master the Hiten Mitsurugi.”

 

Resisting the urge to drag a hand down his face, Hiko continued to prod deeper. There was something Kenshin needed to realize before he'd be ready to learn the final techniques; if he did not have it, the training would kill him. Even considering the alternative, the master wasn't going to let his student die because he was unprepared.

 

“And why does this particular man have to die? As a favor to an old superior? Sentimentality of that kind will only get you killed, baka. Tell me, what makes you think you deserve to learn it, anyway? Why should I bother teaching a student who abandoned my instruction five years ago? Give me one good reason, and your own personal obligations will not move me.” He glowered menacingly as his pupil's silence stretched into minutes. At last, he stood abruptly. “Come back when you figure it out.” For now, there was a potter's wheel that could use some tending to.

 

***

 

Kaoru sat on Hiko's veranda, the still-closed third scroll laying in front of her. It was a little confusing, actually, because she was pretty certain that the technique described on the other scroll she had been given- frustratingly difficult as it was- constituted the epitome of all her father's work. What, then, could possibly be written on this one?

 

Well, there's no use speculating when it's right here in front of me. Still, there was something almost sacred about this scroll. It was the last contact she would ever have with her father, outside of often-indistinct childhood memories. For a moment, she delayed in opening it, allowing herself to become temporarily lost in the pleasant hum and warmth of those fuzzy images of fireworks in summer, lessons in the dojo, and pleasant evenings spent chatting about whatever her flighty child's mind wandered to or wondered about.

 

Then she opened her eyes, and was brought back to the present. She wasn't in Tokyo anymore, and it did her very little good to stay in the sanctuary of her recollections. So it was with some reverence but little ceremony that she broke the seal on the third and final document and unrolled it.

 

Her father's writing, usually steady and sure, was here possessed of a slight waver, though the shaking of Kaoru's own hands as she held it made it difficult to tell. She forced herself to be still, and read the words within once, twice, and then a third time before laying the paper before her.

 

Dearest Kaoru-

 

If you are reading this, it means that I am gone, and never had the chance to say in person what is written here. It also means you have found Hiko, my senpai, and that he has deemed you worthy to learn what it took me half a lifetime to create.

 

As I write this, your mother watches over you in the next room, and I can only hope that for all our sakes, you will never see what is written here. Still, I cannot rely on that, and so I must commit this to paper.

 

Hopefully I lasted at least long enough to teach you the rudiments of our style. If I did my job properly, I taught you that our sword is one that gives life, that protects those who cannot protect themselves. This is an ideal that it is often hard to preserve in this world, but it is one that I have come to believe in above all others. But know this, my daughter: it is our job to protect not only the weak, but the strong, for sometimes, it is they who are the most vulnerable. I'll not explain further; it is something you must see for yourself.

 

Understand, then, that when it comes down to it, your greatest weapon is the kindness of your heart. Know also that, whatever number of years separates my writing from your reading of this, that one things always holds true, more than anything I can say. I love you, my dearest child, and that will give me strength enough to do what I must. I can only hope that you, too, will one day know the kind of love that removes all in its path. I have to stop now, though, your mother calls for me.

 

Kaoru smiled despite her bleary eyes as she read and reread the letter. It was just like her father to leave off doing something for the sake of herself or her mother. This letter was exactly what she had needed to ease her anxieties. After seeing so much bloodshed, she had begun to wonder if her father's ideas could really stand up to the sheer violence of the world. Now, though, she had a new appreciation for it. Her job was not only to protect the weak form the strong, but the strong from themselves.

 

She exhaled softly and rolled the scroll with the greatest care, tucking it away into her russet-colored gi. She hadn't cried since the day her father died, and she wasn't planning on losing it now, not when there was so much left to be done. Then again, with a task like hers, there was probably no end.

 

Still, there was something she could do now. Standing abruptly and pushing back her sleeves, she brushed imaginary dust smartly from her dark brown hakama and took up her sakabatou. There was a succession technique to be mastered, and damned if she was going to give up after only three days.

 

***

 

Kenshin was suitably flabbergasted when Hiko left him. Well, actually, he was more surprised by his own inability to answer the question. To him, the answer that had been so self-evident before had ceased to exist. He needed to kill Shishio why? For Katsura? No, this isn't about what Katsura wants. Besides, Hiko had all but said that such an answer would be unsatisfactory. Why was he doing this? It certainly felt like he should be. Shishio was a menace to Japan, and would continue to be so if allowed to remain as he was.

 

But the swordsman had abandoned any ideological alignment with the half-formed Meiji government when he left the ranks of their army. No, the bigger question here was the one Hiko had only implied: what could possibly make him worthy of learning the final technique of the Hiten Mitsurugi? Any answer that would satisfy his master would have to answer both questions at once.

 

The problem was, Kenshin knew that there was no such answer. He wasn't truly worthy to take up his master's style, not after the things he had done. Openly defied the only adult who had thought him worth raising, run away from his duty as a student, killed innumerable people, both wicked and innocent, and then had the gall to assume that he could start over again, as though none of that had ever occurred. He owed Hiko an account of his actions that he knew now he simply could not provide.

 

He stood, and took to wandering where his feet would take him. He needed to find something, anything to take his mind off this realization. Kenshin immediately knew the solution, but he shook his head. There were a lot of things he didn't deserve, and solace was definitely one of them. And so he tried to block it out and continued to move about aimlessly.

 

Unfortunately, it seemed his feet had a mind of their own, and they agreed with the part of himself that wanted so desperately to be calmed. And so it was with no small amount of trepidation that he found himself a short distance from Hiko's house, and five feet from Kaoru.

 

She appeared to have been meditating, but at his appearance, cracked an eyelid and gave him a small smile, patting the ground next to her in a gesture of invitation. He hesitated, unsure of whether he should accept given recent realizations about the nature of his reactions to her presence, but in the end decided that since he would likely be leaving her for good quite soon, it wouldn't hurt.

 

“How do you think Sano's doing?” she asked lightly. Their companion had left about two days ago, saying he sensed something in the forest that might help him in his own training more than any of them could. Kaoru had let him go, trusting implicitly in his ability to take care of himself, and Kenshin had hardly thought he should protest either.

 

“I'm sure he's fine,” he replied, though in truth he had not given it much thought. As usual, he was becoming rapidly distracted by her ki, but this time he allowed it, and the sensation brought much-welcomed relief from his torment. He would have to add leeching off the kindness of an innocent to his list of crimes; somehow, it made him feel worse than almost any of the other things he had done, simply because she had been so kind to him, of all people. But that, too, could be thought about later.

 

“You're probably right,” she responded thoughtfully. “How's your training going? Hiko-sensei's not being too hard on you, is he?” He was silent, and she seemed to sense his discomfort. Where most people would have taken that as an obvious hint to drop the subject, Kaoru chose instead to ask another question.

 

“What happened?”

 

He stared hard at the landscape before them as he tried to formulate his answer. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered trying to answer her, but he felt he owed her for the unrealized (on her part) debt that he was swiftly accumulating. Besides, as weak as he thought himself for it, he wanted to tell her. Because, well, it seemed that if anyone could understand, it would be this most strange woman.

 

Fool. How could she understand what it's like to be a murderer and a criminal? She's never killed anyone in her life, and you corrupt her with your very existence. The cynical part of his mind was heard but largely ignored by the part that needed to speak.

 

“He asked me why it was that I needed to learn the final technique, and I was unable to produce an adequate answer.”

 

She snorted softly, causing him to turn and look at her. Despite the rather unrefined noise, her face held a look of concern that made him immediately regret speaking. She should not be so concerned over the likes of me.

 

“Of course he'd do something like that,” she sighed. “I don't suppose you've figured it out since then?” When he shook his head, it was her turn to stare out at the forest beyond them. He watched her consider it, and noted that her brows tended to furrow just a little when she was deep in thought, and that she had a tendency to gnaw at her lower lip.

 

“Well, in my experience, people usually fight for a number of reasons. Some of them are personal, and others have more to do with the way people think, or the way they see the world. Most people have both kinds at the same time.” Here she paused, and he could not help but ask the obvious question.

 

“What about you?”

 

She looked at him askance. “Me? I'm no different really. I fight because I want to prove to the world that my father was right. But, on a different level, I fight because I really believe in what he said, and I want to stop people from being hurt. I know it seems strange, but…”

 

Kenshin inclined his head, but something was still nagging at the edge of his awareness. There was something here he needed to understand, he just knew it. “Would you… explain this to me? This sword that does not kill?”

 

Kaoru's eyes lit up, and she smiled widely. He had to remind himself that he did not deserve to smile with her, else he might well have done so. “Of course! My father once trained under the same master as Hiko-sensei, but he wasn't the one chosen to receive the succession techniques. So instead, he set about traveling the country, looking for ways to supplement the basics of the Hiten Mitsurugi with other things. He believed that a sword was a tool to protect people, and so he only ever carried a bokken. Still, he was able to adapt many otherwise lethal techniques to his needs, and eventually he was able to invent his own succession techniques.” The pride was evident in her voice, and she accompanied her little speech with energetic gestures.

 

“Like the one you used on Saito.” He couldn't help but catch some of her enthusiasm, and it prompted him to ask. If that was indeed a succession technique, then the style she used was still quite formidable, even without lethality.

 

She nodded expressively. “Exactly. I cannot and will not take a life, but a sword? I can certainly take one of those.” She chuckled at her own joke, and a corner of his mouth twitched in response.

 

Suddenly, her expression turned somber. “But being out on the battlefield has tested my resolve about many things.”

 

Kenshin understood well what she was talking about. “And?”

 

There was a subtle change in her face; a hardening of the ocean-colored eyes and a stubborn lift to her chin. “It is hard, not to stick to my ideals myself, but to convince others of their truth. There are many good people who have killed, and will continue to do so until the need is no longer there. But I've decided that this is just part of the way the world is. It will do me no good to try and convince anyone. I just have to keep doing what I know is right, and hope that my effort is enough.”

 

Her resolve left him momentarily unable to speak. How could someone who had seen the monsters human beings could be possibly believe this? It wasn't that he wished to convince her otherwise, but perhaps because he needed her to understand that he spoke again.

 

“For every good person that kills, there is someone who kills good people. And some of those are not good people at all.” She had to know, had to stop believing in people like him. Killers were killers, and that was the long and short of it. If she didn't realize this, she would die for it someday.

 

“Is that how you see yourself, Kenshin?” she asked softly, and he watched with surprise as moisture began to build up in her eyes. “As some kind of murderer who can never be redeemed?”

 

“How I see myself doesn't matter,” he replied flatly. “It's what I am.”

 

She shook her head emphatically. “No, it's not. It might have been, if you had been unable to stop yourself. But you did. You left that all behind. I know I may seem naïve to you, but I have seen enough of the world to know a good person from a bad one. And you're a good person, Kenshin, you really are.”

 

And for a moment, her gentle words and soft ki almost convinced him. He tore himself away from the influence hard, and was left somewhat reeling when his normal, Kaoru-free perception of the world came rushing back in. “And just how,” he replied quietly, “do you think you know about me at all?” He stood, and turned to leave. This had been a bad idea all along, and he should have seen it. What could she do but believe in his goodness? If she hadn't, her entire worldview would fall apart. She didn't believe in him, she believed in people. And either of those beliefs would have been mistaken.

 

***

 

“Kenshin, what-” Kaoru sprang to her feet and followed him. She had known that he felt morose about what he had done, and she had accepted that as part of the natural process of moving on from it. She had not, however, expected him to react in such a way to what she saw as an easily-defensible truth.

 

For a moment, she considered the possibility that she was just being far too nosy. He was right of course; she knew very little about him. That, too, she figured would resolve itself eventually, and it had seemed until a few moments ago that he was finally starting to open up to her somewhat.

 

I wish Sano were here. For all his bluster and affected immaturity, Sano had better people skills than anyone she knew. It was like he could look at somebody and know what they were thinking. Kaoru desperately wished she had that ability, but for now it seemed as though the only way to get to the root of this problem was to make Kenshin talk.

 

He had stalked off closer to Hiko's house, and was now sitting with his back towards her on the veranda. She noticed with a touch of irony that it was the exact same place she had read her father's letter that morning. Father, I think I'm beginning to understand what you mean. Barring Hiko and her father, Kenshin was probably the strongest person she had ever met, but he wrestled with demons that were even more tenacious.

 

Well, he was about to learn the hard way that his demons weren't the only stubborn ones. If he thought that just moving a few hundred yards was a good way to get her to leave him alone, he was sorely mistaken.

 

Still, it wouldn't do her any good to say so; it would probably just make him try something else. She needed to get him to talk to her.

 

“You're right,” she said as she took her seat beside him. “I know very little of your life and what you've been through. But I do not think that this makes me erroneous. If you can convince me that you aren't a good person, perhaps I will understand. But I don't think you can.” She laced the apology with a careful challenge.

 

He turned, and his glare bored into her. This wasn't good. It was the same one he'd had when they first met. Those eyes didn't belong to Kenshin, they belonged to Battousai the Manslayer.

 

Well. She hadn't been afraid of that when she fought him then, and she certainly wasn't going to let it cow her now. So she stared right back, letting her ki rise to meet his elevated levels. She blinked, and knew her eyes had changed, because she could see everything a little more sharply than before.

 

At this, he seemed to settle a little bit. Well, at least he didn't look like he wanted to kill her anymore. That was progress, right?

 

She opened her mouth to continue, but he cut her off by speaking first. “I've killed people in cold blood, for a cause that I stopped believing in a long time ago. What does that make me but wicked?”

 

Kaoru chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “I don't know how I can make you believe this, but I meant what I said at the Aoiya. It doesn't matter to me what you've done in the past. Good people can do bad things, but you've changed. You started changing the moment you didn't kill Takeda, maybe even before that, I don't know.”

 

“But I still have to kill Shishio. Nothing has really changed at all,” he replied flatly.

 

Kaoru sighed. She was getting tired of his complete reticence to even consider the possibility, and she had no idea where it was coming from. “Do you really have to? I understand that you have to defeat him, but you know as well as I do that the two are not the same.”

 

There was a prolonged silence during which neither looked at the other. Kaoru for her part watched as the sun slowly set, lighting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and golds that reminded her of the redheaded samurai's eyes. She could feel her eyelids drooping slightly by the time he spoke next, and even considering the relative silence, she had to strain her ears to hear him.

 

“It wasn't I that changed myself.”

 

She was thoroughly confused. “What?”

 

He turned suddenly and caught her gaze with his own, and Kaoru thought that he looked… haunted somehow. “You changed me,” he said, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

 

“I… what?” That had been the last thing she was expecting to hear, and she wasn't quite sure how to respond.

 

“I said it was you. If not for you, I would never have changed at all. You are the good person. Not me.” As he spoke, she had leaned forward to catch the impossibly quiet words, and realized with some surprise that they were awfully close together, enough so that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

 

Apparently, he realized the same thing at about the same time, and they both shot back to sit up straight, and she fought to keep the blush from rising.

 

It was a few moments before either of them spoke again. She was about ready to tell him that she had had nothing to do with it- as flattering as it was to think so- when he startled her by talking first.

 

“I don't understand you,” he said simply. “I never have. That was why I spared you the first time.” His voice was husky, his pitch still low, as though it pained him to admit it. “After that, the idea of killing you just seemed… repulsive somehow. But, I killed others after that, even though it started to bother me. When I let Saito take Jin-e, I committed treason. My superior allowed me to escape, but also gave me all the information on Shishio.”

 

Kaoru searched his profile for any hint of further explanation, but he seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact, and his posture was rigid as she had ever seen it. “Do you feel you owe him? This superior of yours?”

 

“A little, perhaps, but not that much.”

 

“I see. But you still want to do it.” There was a slight nod. “Then there already is a reason. You just have to figure it out. As for me, I'm not that complicated. I just wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

 

“Which is?”

 

She fought not to flush, but knew it was a losing battle. “Someone who is lost. A truly gentle person who was led to become something he was not.”

 

***

 

There was more silence, which both of them allowed to stand this time. Kenshin's thoughts were a roiling mass of memories, self-effacing accusations, and most prevalently the sensation of being within inches of Kaoru. He was internally berating himself for the mistake he had almost made moments ago, and for letting her get to the point where she had begun to trust him.

 

No, it never should have worked out this way. He should have just left when he realized he had no answer for Hiko, walked out of everyone's lives for good. But now that the opportunity had passed to do so once, he understood that it would only get harder with time. The problem was, he didn't want to go. Here was the one person he had ever met around whom he felt truly at ease, or at least he would if he allowed himself to. He had spoken things to her which he would never have consciously allowed himself to speak to another, and she hadn't run from him. She seemed to accept him for everything that he was, which he couldn't say he found particularly wise, bit was certainly a comfort.

 

And her assessment of him was… forgiving. She had told him that she was uncomplicated, but he knew that, at least, to be false. It took more than kindness or a gentle disposition to consciously forgive someone like him, and more than that to know that he needed to be forgiven.

 

His thoughts tended in this direction for a few more minutes before everything was brought to a screeching halt. He felt a weight settle on his left shoulder, and looked down to discover that Kaoru was leaning against it, apparently asleep. The steady rise and fall of her breath only confirmed it. The contact caused an odd feeling to shoot up his spine, not altogether unpleasant, and he was careful to remain still, lest she wake up.

 

He should wake her up, of course, but that annoyingly large part of himself that reveled in her presence prevented him from doing so. Instead, careful not to shift too much, he leaned over and let his nose hover a few inches from the top of her head. Inhaling, he caught that familiar scent of jasmine, mixed with the wet earth of the surrounding forest. It seemed that the smell must be something unique to Kaoru, for there was surely no jasmine in the area.

 

Strangely emboldened, he risked running his forefinger and thumb through her ponytail. The hair was a bit tangled, doubtless from training, but still soft to the touch. He worked a couple of the knots loose before he felt her stir, and his hand immediately shot back to his side. What am I doing? This wasn't right at all.

 

Still moving delicately so as not to wake her, Kenshin shifted her against his chest and picked her up. He would take her to her room and settle her on her futon, and ignore how pleasant her warmth felt against him in the chillier night air. Then, perhaps, he could return to thinking clearly.

 

***

 

Hiko sat at his wheel, shaping the clay into a bowl with ease. At first, being a potter was simply his excuse to live as far away from the rest of the world as possible. It was an occupation he had inherited from his master, and one Koshijiro had never understood. The other man had been far more social, though even he had admitted that pottery was quite soothing at times.

 

Hiko himself had to agree. What was once an excuse was now an occupation in its own right, one that served quite well to pass the scads of free time he'd had in the past year. He was no great artisan, having devoted far too much of his life to mastering something else entirely, but his pieces were functional, and sold pretty well in Kyoto.

 

His tranquility was interrupted, however, when he sensed his student moving towards him. This had better be good. Sighing inwardly, he stood and swung round to meet the baka, crossing his arms. It would never do to seem like he was unprepared for this little visit.

 

Kenshin, upon reaching this space behind his house, came to an abrupt stop about five feet away. From the dark circles under his eyes, it had been some time since he slept last. Good, he'd better have been figuring it out. Truly, Hiko didn't like seeing his students suffer, but he recognized the value of such struggles, especially in this case.

 

“Well?” he inquired imperiously.

 

His baka deshi hesitated, then said, “I was a fool to leave, but the goal I fought for is still a worthy one, though one I should have approached differently. I will not be ashamed that I helped create a country where there is no Shogun. I will, however, regret for the rest of my life the deaths I caused to do it.”

 

Hiko snorted. Now we're getting somewhere. “And what, exactly, does this have to do with Makoto Shishio?'

 

Kenshin took a steadying breath, though he tried to hide that this was what it was. “I'm not done yet. If Shishio takes over, then all those deaths will have been for nothing. He'll just be another Shogun.”

 

At this, Hiko laughed. It was a sound more akin to barking than anything else, and there was absolutely no humor in it. “That's it? That's your great revelation? What makes you think that the same logic will produce different results?” He took a step forward, to loom over his much shorter apprentice, who glared up at him defiantly. That's new. Is he finally growing a spine?

 

“I want,” Kenshin enunciated slowly, “to create a world where she is right.”

 

The tension fell out of Hiko's muscles immediately, though he did not allow it to show. That's better. “And what kind of world is that?”

 

“One where a sword really is used to protect people. I know as well as you do that it isn't true, but I like it a great deal more than what is.”

 

Hiko uncrossed his arms slowly, and looked at his apprentice anew. “You do realize,” he replied skeptically, “that such a world is impossible? Kaoru is exactly like her father. She believes in people, believes that even a killer can be turned down the path of righteousness, as though there were any such thing for anyone but them.”

 

Kenshin lifted a shoulder, and Hiko understood the perfect irony of the situation. It seemed that, in somehow convincing the baka that her ideal was worth fighting for, she had made it that much more real. Hiko doubted she even realized what she had done. “You know this means you can't kill him.”

 

The redhead nodded. “I shouldn't have to, if you agree to teach me.”

 

Hiko's eyes narrowed briefly. He couldn't say that he believed anything that Koshijiro or Kaoru said about the world, but he knew that people who did were necessary. If everyone was as fatalistic as he was, after all, there would be no chance in hell that it could ever change. “So you will protect this little ideal of hers?”

 

Kenshin smiled slightly and shook his head. “No. I think she can do that well enough on her own. I will do what is necessary to ensure that she can.”

 

“Without killing anyone?”

 

“Without killing anyone.”

 

Hiko raised an eyebrow. “Does she know?”

 

Another shrug. “I don't think so. It was a realization I came to recently. Did you know she believes me to be a good person?”

 

The master of the Hiten Mitsurugi snorted. “She thinks the same of me.”

 

“And so I decided that rather than fight it, I'd try to comply.” Kenshin tilted his head to the side, a mannerism Hiko hadn't seen since his apprentice was about thirteen. “Does this mean you will teach me?”

 

“Follow me, and don't complain when it gets too hard, because you're the one that asked for it.”

 

***

 

About four days later, Sano had left his place of training, as well as the mysterious monk calling himself Anji, and wandered his way back to Hiko's house. He watched idly for a time as Kaoru tried to master some strange move that she had doubtless read about on one of those scrolls. It seemed to involve striking at a precise place on and opponent's sword, because she was practicing with one of Hiko's rarely-used training dummies. After a while, though, he lost interest, and scanned the area for any sign of Hiko or Kenshin.

 

Finding none, he was slightly perturbed. He couldn't sense either of them, which meant they were quite some distance away. “Hey missy!” he called, “Any idea where Kenshin and the old man are?”

 

Kaoru lowered her sword and swiped a hand across her forehead. “Training, I suppose.” Sano couldn't help but think that the smile that accompanied this statement was a little much for the situation, but he didn't say so.

 

“Well, all right then. I guess I'm gonna go catch a snooze.” He yawned widely and stretched languidly until Kaoru rolled her eyes, then chuckled and meandered off to find a nice shady spot for his nap.

 

***

 

Kenshin drew in his breaths rapidly, forcing himself to remain upright. Hiko had been pushing him to the point of exhaustion for what felt like weeks on end, but could only have been days at the most. Either way, his reflexes seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive at this point. Any chance of mentally analyzing what was going on had vanished yesterday at the latest.

 

For all that, Hiko seemed hardly affected. Well, perhaps that wasn't quite true. He'd finally shed his weighted cloak a few hours ago, and that was perhaps why he seemed so much more refreshed than his student. Either way, if this didn't stop soon, Kenshin was going to collapse.

 

No, I can't think like that. There's a point to this, I just have to figure it out.

All inclinations in that direction were immediately cut off as his master took a swing at his legs, forcing the already-winded Kenshin to jump into the air. Twisting his body around so that he landed facing his master's side, he realized halfway through his counterstrike that the man simply wasn't there anymore.

 

It was just as he had located his opponent with his ki sense that pain bloomed across his back. Kenshin fell unceremoniously to the dirt with a thud. There was no way a move like that would have caught him off-guard were he rested, but as it was, the sensation was almost unbearable. In a matter of a week, he'd gone from untouchable on a field of battle to taking hits from Kaoru and a full-on beating from Hiko.

 

“Get up.” The other man's tone was not overly harsh, but it was an order all the same. Ignoring the black spots that danced across the edge of his vision whenever he flexed the muscles near his shoulder blades, Kenshin complied. Leaning on the sword that he had somehow maintained grip on, he managed to push himself past a wave of nausea and to his feet.

 

“Do you remember what I showed you?”

 

Though his neck protested viciously, he nodded, since he could not trust himself to speak.

 

The answering nod was firm. “Good. You should know that there's a reason for all this. That move is all about your instinct. You can't trust your mind to think about it, because your mind can be fooled. I've given you no other option than to trust yourself. Now, come at me with everything you've got.”

 

Kenshin's grip tightened on his blade, but then he hesitated. “I could kill you.” Even with a sakabatou, the move was potentially lethal, that much he was able to tell having only seen it once.

 

Hiko grinned, the feral smile of the mountain cat. “You're supposed to,” he replied. “Lucky for me, apprentice number two seems to have convinced you that it might not be a good idea.”

 

The redheaded samurai regarded the blade in his hand thoughtfully. That much was true; seeing how Kaoru lived made him want to swear off killing for good, he just wasn't sure if it was possible. Not in a situation like this. And either way, he certainly did not want to kill Hiko. Maybe if he came at it a little differently, but…

 

“I obviously didn't beat you hard enough, baka. You're thinking again. Trust your instincts. Besides, if I were that easy to kill, I wouldn't be standing here right now, so get a move on, before we're both old.”

 

Perhaps it was his fatigue, but Kenshin couldn't see anything else for it. He needed to learn this technique, and Hiko seemed willing enough to accept the risks involved. Gripping the hilt of his gold-chased sakabatou tightly, he sheathed it before allowing his hold to loosen, hand hovering a few inches away. Hiko stood in much the same position, which likely meant… no. Instinct alone.

 

Abandoning all conscious thought, Kenshin allowed his mind to slip into the meditative trance he had been drilled in as a boy. Distorted images and memories took the opportunity to rise to the forefront, but he ignored them in favor of that one special quality that separated a sword-wielder from a true samurai: fighter's instinct.

 

There was a long stretch of time during which neither moved. Kenshin waited, sharp senses taking in and filtering various pieces of information. The hot sun of early summer beat down on his still-throbbing neck and back, his breathing steadied, Hiko shifted his weight slightly to the outside of his left foot.

 

Two realizations came to Kenshin at once: the importance of footwork and the fact that it was time to attack now. Immediately reacting to both without taking the time to process, he launched forward with a cry, eyes flashing, a grin to match Hiko's own splitting his face.

 

***

 

Kaoru fell back onto the ground behind her with a small laugh of delight. I've done it! After days of practice, hours of agonizing over her father's last technique, she had at last come to see the intention behind it. And with that realization had come a much swifter path to mastery. Half of swordsmanship is understanding the lesson, she thought, a little smugly. She couldn't help it. While she was far from a master still, she at least knew her complete style, and there was something immensely satisfying in that knowledge. She knew, too, that her father's work had been incomplete. He had all but told her so numerous times when she was younger, and her impression now was that he had intended her to create as well as learn.

 

Father… Kaoru fingered the indigo ribbon she still kept tucked between the layers of her gi. She wore it on occasion, but it was hardly a thing for sword practice. Even now, she was helped by memories like the one the silk band called up, by her recollections of his love and devotion. He was arming her with everything she needed to carry her dream forward, and things seemed to be falling into place.

 

Well, most things, anyway. There was still the matter of Kenshin. She sighed theatrically and pillowed her head underneath her arms. After their strange talk about a week ago, he had gone to Hiko, who had apparently agreed to train him. While she was elated at this- for she hoped it meant Kenshin was starting to forgive himself, just a bit- she wasn't exactly sure where she stood with him.

 

Which was something she was realizing was very, very important to her. She fought down the blush as she remembered waking up in her futon the morning after their discussion, and realizing that she must have fallen asleep on him. Not only was it mortally embarrassing, but she might have missed him saying something important! What if he had been able to come up with an answer to Hiko's question? Well, she assumed he had, but it would have been good to be there for it. She might never know what it had been, and she wasn't quite nosy enough to ask just yet.

 

She drifted in and out of wakefulness for a while, and her sleepy thoughts allowed her to consider his beautiful, dangerous eyes, flame-colored hair, and quiet, stoic manner without shame. Oh, how Misao will tease me… she thought dreamily. Actually, never mind Misao, Megumi is never going to let me hear the end of it, once they find out I've fallen in love with Kenshin… Her eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright. Wait, what? Love? No, no, no, bad idea, Kaoru!

 

There were so many logical reasons why she should immediately forget she'd ever thought that. First of all, he clearly did not feel that way about her. Sure, he'd said nice things about how she'd helped him, but anyone would have done that, right? And it certainly didn't mean he was anything other than grateful. Second, he was Kenshin for goodness' sake! He had bigger things to deal with than some silly girl's irrational feelings for him, and as soon as Shishio was… gone, he was likely to be, too. He had no reason to stay, after all.

 

Ugh, this is simply too ridiculous to ponder further. With that thought firmly in mind, Kaoru stood and smartly about-faced to march herself into Hiko's house, ignoring the strange look Sano shot her when she passed him.

 

********

This chapter was quite troublesome for me, and I hope that I managed to make it into something readable. Reviews desired but not required. Until next time!

~Kiku~