Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
65: Shukuchi
~*~
There was, according to
Sanosuke, only one person in the world who was faster than Kenshin: a young man
by the name of Seta Soujirou, Shishio's right-hand man - boy, really - and the
strongest of the Juppongatana. Kaoru found this almost incomprehensible; Kenshin
was so terribly fast already, and the idea of someone being faster...
And far more deadly, judging by the damage done
on Kenshin's body during the battle. Soujirou had not only destroyed the
original sakabatou in their first fight, but had struck Kenshin in the back -
something which had never, in all his time at the dojo, happened before.
"He looked like he was about
your age, Jou-chan," Sano told her, looking at her with a curious expression on
his face, as if he had only then realized. "It's hard to believe... he looked
just like a kid, but he was so good... if Kenshin wasn't the sort of man he is,
Soujirou probably would've..."
Kaoru didn't want to hear it. She didn't want
to hear what she had spent the entire day dreading - that Kenshin could die,
that he very nearly had died at the hands of this boy. Not when he had come home
so close to death. Not when, even as Sano spoke, the rurouni was fighting a
constant battle for his life.
She felt a little envious at
the natural talent for the sword which seemed to appear all around her. Kenshin
was skilled beyond belief, the legends of the Bakumatsu manslayer holding merit
in many forms; Soujirou, his opponent, having an inborn talent which developed
into a deadly style of assassination as he grew older; even Yahiko, the one who
learned all he knew from her - and his observations of Kenshin - was skilled
enough to earn himself the ougi in less than six months. How long had it taken
her?
But Yahiko had different motives, she knew.
Different needs in his time, at his age, than she had during her own training.
There had been more crucial, dangerous battles in the time they had known
Kenshin than in their entire lives before he arrived.
It still made her feel a twinge of jealousy,
remembering how she had needed Kenshin's help to defend the honour of her school
against Gohei, when he never required her aid in his battles. If anything, she
was more of a liability to him.
"If I have to protect someone when I
fight, I can't possibly win."
She had grown, though; she
at least gave herself credit for that, as would Kenshin, if asked. She had
developed her strength and courage a great deal when the stream of assassins and
unusual warriors began appearing at the Kamiya dojo, wreaking havoc and
threatening her rurouni. She had learned to deal with the strangest men, with
all their bizarre weaponry, crying bloody murder and damaging her dojo - her
father's dojo - just to make Kenshin angry.
It always seemed to take them so long to
discover that such damage was unnecessary; it was danger to his friends, not his
home, that brought out the best in Himura Kenshin.
'But... what is the best...?'
The best warrior was, unmistakably, the dreaded
Hitokiri Battousai, assassin of legends, feared by all - even those who had
never seen him in battle. Even Kaoru herself was wary of each appearance, though
she would never admit that to Kenshin.
The personality that lay dearest to her heart
was, of course, the sweet-tempered rurouni; slow to anger, quick to forgive,
easy to smile. Harder to laugh, but that remained as simply a challenge for her.
But the best man?
"I promise..."
"I'll protect you."
The best man was the man Kenshin had become in
the time he had spent with them all - his family - transforming into not just
the rurouni, and not just the hitokiri, but someone stronger, someone
wiser.
Someone warmer, easier to love and easier to
share love with.
'That's the man I want as my
husband,' she often mused, watching him work around the dojo in his usual
routine. 'The man I want to spend my life with.'
'The man I really love.'
And, really, what could be better?
~*~
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