Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
84: Pickpocket
~*~
Slam.
"Oro!"
It was a great turning point
in their lives, Kaoru knew, the day when Yahiko attempted to steal Kenshin's
wallet. They hadn't quite known it then - at least, she could assume Kenshin
did not - but the young, scruffy-looking boy who was, in her opinion, in need
of an attitude adjustment was to soon become a very important member of their
growing family. She was grateful she had stopped him; certainly he would have
kept moving, disappearing into the crowds, and continuing to pickpocket for
the yakuza without complaint or rebellion.
'We argue all the
time,' she often thought to herself, 'But he really is a good kid,
beneath it all.'
'It's just
finding those good traits that's the problem...'
He didn't deserve to live the
life of a yakuza pawn, no matter what his faults may have been. He had too
much spirit to be broken by the ruthless underworld - she could acknowledge
that, seeing the same attitude in herself, thanks to Kenshin's suggestion -
and she did her best to keep him from such things. Allowing him to live in her
home, taking him in as her student and...
... brother...
It made her smile, to think
of it. She knew her parents had tried for years to have a son, failing at
every opportunity, and she could not miss the irony of finally gaining the
heir to the dojo when she was old enough to marry, herself.
Yes, Yahiko was certainly the
heir to the Kamiya style. If, perhaps, he ever took it seriously.
She often
wondered why, on the cool spring day on the bridge, Kenshin had lowered his
normally flawless and unbreakable senses to allow a small child through his
defenses. It was unthinkable, a swordsman of his caliber, knocked down by a
boy less than half his age, humiliated and mocked, his pride only somewhat
rescued by the less-experienced girl he had already rescued several times. She
wondered if Yahiko had puzzled over the same thing, after seeing Kenshin in
action. He certainly wasn't hesitant about giving his opinions of the rurouni.
Eventually she figured out
that Kenshin must have let Yahiko attack him. He must have - he had to
have, really - known the boy was coming yet did not move aside, for reasons he
wouldn't easily explain. He had done it countless times since, after all; the
thrown sake jug in the argument soon resolved by Sanosuke in there first
meeting only one example. Sometimes his deliberate clumsiness was to protect,
yet this...
'... to test?'
"Foolish pride, or
a strong sense of honour?"
She marveled at his strength,
how he could set aside personal gain and dignity to give others a chance to
prove themselves. He had entrusted his honour and integrity to his friends
time and time again, risking everything yet trusting them not to let him down.
"There's no one in
the world I'd trust more."
"I will entrust you
with my vow not to kill."
'Yes... reliance on
his friends... that's where Kenshin gets a great deal of his strength... even
as they gain strength from him...'
'... we all rely on
him... for everything...'
'For so long, he
was searching for an answer. But for us... even if we didn't know we were
searching... our answer was him.'
"Honestly,
I don't know why I tolerate a brat like you!"
"And why
should I listen to a hag teacher like you?"
"As if
you've learned anything of kendo without me?"
"I could
probably teach myself if people would ever stop hassling me!"
"Fine!
Then go teach yourself whatever skills you'd learn with the yakuza if you
weren't living here!"
With those words spoken, both
teacher and student had stormed off in opposite directions: Kaoru in search of
her husband for a good venting, and Yahiko for a little peace and quiet by the
riverside. Kaoru's venting had transformed into a lesson she hoped she
would not soon forget, while Yahiko's solitude was swiftly interrupted when
Kenshin found him, tossing stones into the flowing water.
The rurouni's approach was
silent as always, and Yahiko didn't notice him until they were nearly side by
side. Kenshin said nothing for a long time; he merely watched as the boy flung
rocks into the air, a scowl crossing his expression.
"Kaoru-dono is making dinner," he finally spoke, crouching down in the grass
to choose a few rounded stones.
Yahiko's scowl deepened. "So
what?" he muttered darkly.
"Well...
I'm certain both of you could use a few lessons yourselves, in the kitchen."
The younger man sent Kenshin
a sideways glance, finding an almost amused smile on his mentor's face. He
shrugged, turning back to the waters. "That's no skill for a yakuza," he
grumbled, regretting the words immediately. He didn't want to acknowledge the
pain he felt, however dim, nor did he want Kenshin to notice.
He did, of course. Kenshin
was quiet for a moment, then pulled back his arm and flung the smooth rock in
his hands. It skimmed across the surface twice before plunging down towards
the bottom.
"But any
samurai should know the basics of a kitchen, for the times when he is away
from home and can't indulge in his wife's fine cooking," Kenshin countered, a
flicker of remorse crossing his fine features.
"Some
samurai know better than to marry an ugly woman with no skills whatsoever."
Once again, the older man was
silent. The arm moved again, and Yahiko barely saw the stone's flight; merely
saw the ripples where it touched the water at least a half-dozen times and
sunk.
"You think
your words are not hurtful?" Kenshin asked gently, breaking the dull silence
with his words. Yahiko flinched slightly, as if struck.
"But I
don't..." he began, trailing off slowly, tasting the words before he could
finish. '... I don't mean them...'
Kenshin seemed to understand,
regardless. "Many things we say may or may not be true; sometimes we speak in
ignorance of how it may affect those around us."
Yahiko blinked quizzically at
him, and he sighed, resigned.
"I once
told a woman I would never raise a sword against her, to take her life," he
whispered, rolling two stones between his fingers absently, "Yet six months
later she lay dead at my hands, vow or no vow." He dropped one of the stones,
watching it sink in the murky waters at his feet. "A woman, no matter how
beautiful, who is constantly told she is ugly may come to believe it, in
time."
Kaoru's apprentice stared at
him, slackjawed and surprised; stunned, even. He could not, for the life of
him, think of anything to say.
"I'm not
telling you to change your ways, nor who you are," Kenshin glanced at Yahiko,
raising an eyebrow meaningfully, "But I am... requesting... that you show my
wife the respect you feel she deserves, not the insults your pride insists
upon delivering."
Yahiko lowered his gaze, face
flushed with supressed anger and shame. "Kenshin..." he began, but the older
man flicked the final stone from his hand, and it sunk to the bottom, as if
symbolizing the end of their conversation.
"Dinner
should be ready soon," the rurouni said quietly, brushing his hands together
and tucking them into his gi. "I find that the best way to apologize is to
accept punishment without complaint, don't you?"
The boy hesitated, watching
Kenshin turn and walk up the hill towards the city, then finally moved to
follow, the river washing against the stones on the shoreline behind him.
~*~
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