Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The little brave boy ❯ The little brave boy ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer I don’t own Rurouni Kenshin.

Summary: Just a quick look on Kaoru’s thoughts during Yahiko’s battle with Otowa. Set during Jinchuu arc (obviously… duh!?). One-shot.

Notes: Thanks for Kellen for beta-ing for me and for being such funny girl! Also thanks (always) for Merith for taking her time to read it. And thanks for CrismHeart for being such a great chat buddy.

Most of the dialogues come from the RK translated manga on maigo-chan’s site ::bows:: Others are my translation from the brazilian version in portuguese.

I gestured him to stay. “Wait, Kenshin. You should rest. I’ll watch Yahiko.” It had to be me, anyway. In fact, I was his master even if he sometimes wouldn’t see me as much, even less treat me like one. Truth being told, we had never shared what could be called of a typical master – pupil relationship. We were both too young and, I had to confess, immature.

I heard voices outside – Yahiko’s and the weird dressed guy. I kept myself quiet and still at the door. Casting Yahiko a careful look, I studied his stance and tried to see beneath it, any hint of fear and sign of hesitation about the fight. But all I saw was his head up, eyes never leaving the enemy’s. Determination was all I could see on his face. His third real fight, I thought. And even if he showed none, I was full of hesitation. Was he really ready? Was I ready to watch him if he failed?

Saying that I understood Kenshin’s choice of letting Yahiko fight alone would be just partially true. Obviously, I sure did not want Kenshin to lose time and strength with anyone, for I knew his true fight was waiting for him up in one of those balloons, looking at us from above. I also knew, which from time to time caused me a certain amount of disconcert, that Kenshin would not be likely to let me fight. Moreover, I understood, after seeing the glow in his eyes, it had been Yahiko’s choice all the time. Despite all my attempts to reason with myself, one fact remained unchanged: he was still just ten years old.

I drew myself away from those thoughts and my attention was entirely on the fight again. I watched as Otowa launched himself towards Yahiko, swung down his sword in a very awkward move easily dodged.

I saw Yahiko’s smirk and my lips curved slightly up in return. He’s so grown up. But the smile died when cold realization hit, concern taking place. That man was an Anchi expert, despite his sword skills, it should have been reason enough not to underestimate him. I cried out to warn Yahiko about that, to say he shouldn’t be too bold. Too late as the man mocked us, saying I was right and tossing a glass at Yahiko. My first thought: poison? It was not; a complement for his weapon, he had said. What does it mean?, I wondered.

My thoughts didn’t drift too far because a moment later he suddenly seemed to magically handle the sword, Yahiko barely being able to evade the numerous blows he was receiving. I felt my mouth dry, my eyes widened, my heart tightened. Reckless, he had been and so had I for not warning him soon enough. Focus, I demanded myself. You are his teacher! Find a way to help him. I had my brows drawn together in concentration. There’s no such thing as magic. It must be a trick. But what is it? Ordering myself to reorganize my thoughts and come up with an answer quick, it finally hit me: magnetism!

Wasting no time, I gave the information out to Yahiko, hoping he would understand. Oh! And he did. As I thought of a way to take out the enemy’s weapon, Yahiko was one-step ahead and what he did caused nothing but amazement to me. Yahiko had managed to neutralize Otowa’s weapon by using the enemy’s own sword sheath. I couldn’t contain my smile and pride.

But then it happened, so quickly, and he was bleeding, literally a rain of blood emerged from his little body. How? Otowa smiled proudly. He had used the spikes from his kimono.

It is said that you can see your entire life flashing before your eyes in those few instants before your death. As I learned that seems to be also true when you are watching the life of someone close to you fading away.

I saw Yahiko’s short life flashing before my eyes as I watched him being held up, blood flowing from his body. When we met at the bridge. He, calling me ugly. When, after being disappointed with former students, he had stepped in, faced me and said he wouldn’t be like them and that he was my student. When he faced alone an unscrupulous man to help Tsubame. The time, we all brooding because of Yutarou’s condition, Yahiko was the one showing maturity and giving Yutarou a reason not to give up. When he asked me, more like ordered me, to go to Kyoto after Kensnhin. The time he bravely fought Henya and won and afterward, he was the only one to stand up against that giant from Juppongatana. He, asking me to teach him the Kamiya Kasshin succession technique. He, standing outside the dojo – after remaining there for the entire night without sleeping – crying, hands clenched into fists at his sides, saying he needed to be stronger. I'm sick of being the only one who's weak. And last of all I saw his face, just the face of a ten year old boy.

I closed my eyes, tears forming. I heard the dull sound of his body being tossed away. Instinctively, I started to move towards him. I wanted to help him. I had to. A hand on my shoulder, however, prevented me from going any further. Kenshin. Why? He is just a child.

“He's still gripping the shinai. He's probably unconscious, but he's not dead,” He said quietly.

I looked at Yahiko and, with relief, understood Kenshin’s words. However, there was so much blood and his body seemed so tiny and defenseless. I pleaded with my eyes for Kenshin to put an end to that madness. It’s enough. He had done well. It should be enough.

My hands tightened about Kenshin’s sword and I must have stopped breathing because I only remember of letting my breath out when I heard Kenshin telling he would take care of the rest.

Oh… my stubborn pupil! He could barely hold himself up but he stood and said it was his fight. Nonsense! He can possibly fight any longer. Kenshin would never let him go on under the present circumstances. But for my surprise I heard Kenshin saying, “Yahiko. This once, I will entrust you with my vow not to kill. Fight, and win!”

Had he lost it? And for a second moment I felt angry towards him! How could he do that? I tried to tell him out of that, but he would just say “Miss Kaoru. They're more grown up at that age than people think.”

However, all I could see was Yahiko’s head down, his breath uneven, his body unsteadily rocking, barely able to keep himself standing. I failed to understand how he would be able to fight in that condition. But I had lost the battle; neither Kenshin nor Yahiko seemed likely to give up. Defeated, all I could do was to watch the fight and to pray.

Once again, but for a different reason, Yahiko’s bowed head caught my attention. Could be? A trace of hope emerged, lightening my heart a little. Would he be able? He had in fact practiced a lot but…

It all happened in slow motion to me. In the end, all I could remember was Yahiko using the Kamiya Kasshin succession technique and Otowa falling on the ground his face holding the weirdest smile I had ever seen. I think he knew before landing on the floor that Yahiko had won.

Unable to hold my legs up any longer, my knees gave in. I really thought he was going to die… that we would lose him. And if that had happened I knew in my heart that I would never forgive Kenshin.

Only after a moment, I realized they were mocking me for my uncovered moment of weakness. Surely I was a laughable figure, kneeled like that on the ground, with a colorless face and eyes popping out of their sockets, but it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t understand, which I could be completely sure of after trying to explain to them my reasons. My amazement was not because he had used the Kamiya Kasshin succession technique. My real amazement was to see him alive and safe as well as the realization of the weight his well-being had to me. Despite our fights and the daily unkind exchange of insults, the boy had, little by little, grown on me. He was more than my pupil, he was - and I would probably never say that out loud for the own sake of both our pride - my adopted little brother. But I would say something to him in the appropriate time, something I had been sure after that fight: Yahiko was bound to be great.