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Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin, and most of the characters related to and featuring in the following fictional stories are property of creator and master manga artist Watsuki Nobuhiro, and no copyright infringement was intended in any way in the creation of these projects. Used without permission.

Light of the Snow-Red Village
Part III - Flame of Growth: The Dream of Kenjutsu - Chapter 4

"Mmph?" Hikari rubbed her eyes, coming awake slowly as someone yanked the covers away from her body, the chill of the morning making her shiver. "What...?"

Heiji stood over her, the shinai stretched out towards her. There was a rather large grin on his face. "Time for practice."

She gazed blearily at him for a moment, then slid open the window. "Um... the sun's not even up yet..."

"Naturally." Heiji chuckled. "I have to run the shop from morning till night. That means that we have to practice before I open: right now."

Hikari turned back to him, stared unblinking for a moment, then fell back on the bed. "Too early..."

"Hey, hey! Your tousan has already started his work. How bad would I look if I neglected my end of the bargain?"

Heiji smiled again. "Oh, that got your attention. He left late last night, looking for information about the yakuza. He should be back later."

He brushed her concern aside. "I wouldn't worry. He's more than a match for them; he'll return when he gets hungry."

There was a silence, and it was broken by Hikari's stomach growling loudly. She blushed, looking up at him imploringly. "Can we eat?"

His warm smile turned into a grin that was positively evil. He tossed the shinai at her. "Show me what you can do first."

Hikari rubbed her head, one eye closed in a slight wince, as Heiji watched her expectantly. "Isn't that enough? I want to learn... you're just throwing me around."

Heiji shrugged. "I'm checking your basics. You need to know how to fall, you know."

She frowned. "Well... tousan was pretty overprotective when I was first learning. He didn't want anyone to hurt me. This isn't exactly what I'm used to."

Heiji grimaced, shaking his head. "There's an old samurai saying... die in the dojo, laugh in the battlefield. Getting hurt now will only protect you from injuries later on."

Hikari smiled weakly. "Tell that to my dad." She slowly got to her feet. "From the side, then?"

Her smile changed to a grin, and she charged his left flank, shinai raised. He smirked, watched her for a moment...

... then feinted easily and tripped her, allowing her to fall unceremonially on her face.

"Some?" his eyebrow rose slightly. "At this rate, your father will have those yakuza run out of town before you even fall properly."

"You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But you need more than that if you want to be a kendoist in this day and age."

"When you're ready." He leveled his bokken at her, taking a forward stance. "As I said, testing your basics. We will now move on to defense."

She hastily got to her feet as he moved towards her, and blocked his attack, her arms straining against his strength.

"Good," he approved, nodding and backing away. "You've been learning a great deal of defense, I'm guessing."

"Maybe a little too much," she smiled with a shrug. "I ought to be concentrating more on my endurance, ne?"

"Exactly." Heiji grinned. "That's what I'm talking about. See? You've learned something."

Hikari blinked, as he turned towards the door, replacing the bokken on the wall stand. "We're... done?"

After breakfast, Hikari returned to her room for a few extra hours of sleep, and Heiji went to the shop to open it for the day. When he reached the front desk, he found he was not alone.

Kenshin was leaning against the counter, the sword sheathed and in a similar position beside him. His eyes were closed, and he looked half-asleep. However, as Heiji approached, he opened one eye and sent him a sideways glance. "Good morning, Heiji-dono."

"How do you suppose I got in?" Kenshin muttered irritably. "I walked through the walls, of course."

Not getting his answer, and not particularly caring either way, the older man whistled softly. "Himura-san, did you get any sleep at all?"

Kenshin reached down and grasped the sakabatou's hilt, sliding it through his belt. "Not really. If you don't mind, I may just do that now. Hikari is still sleeping, I trust?"

The swordsman glanced at him a little sharply, one eyebrow raised. "You don't waste time, do you?"

Heiji's grin faded slightly. "She could use a lot of work. You've been too gentle on her; she's got no tolerance for pain or defeat. That's going to need some real improvement is she wants to survive this way."

The shopkeeper waved his hands in defense, chuckling. "Iie! I barely laid a finger on her. She'll be a little sore later on, and that may continue for a while, but I would never seriously hurt her. I don't have a death wish, you know."

"I'm not saying she isn't a tough girl." Heiji moved away and began arranging items within the store, preparing for the early crowd. "Hell... for her age and stature, she's incredible. But defense and offense are not the only strengths of a swordsman. You can't survive on those two alone. She needs endurance, and perhaps a little patience as well. She needs to learn that before I can teach her anything."

"And who said your job would be easy? I'm ready for it." Heiji propped one elbow on the counter, eyeing him expectantly. "So, are you going to tell me what you did last night?"

Kenshin closed his eyes, letting himself rest against the counter as well. "There is a gambling place downtown; you must know if it." Heiji nodded. "That is a normal yakuza hideout... a source for money and pleasure at the same time. I searched around until I found it, and listened to the discussions from the outside alley." He let out a soft sigh. "The samurai from the day we met... they were angry. They argued about my interference, and your reluctance to join. They were speaking to someone... someone important. He never said a word, but they called him 'boss' and wanted permission to kill us all and destroy this place."

Kenshin's eyes opened, his jaw set and angry. "He never gave it... but he did not reject their proposal, either. Be on guard from now on." He pushed away from the counter, brushing a hand through his hair. "We can discuss this later. I'm going back tonight."

He moved towards the back door to return to the rooms upstairs, but Heiji's voice made him halt. "Hikari-chan... she was worried about you today."

Kenshin smiled slightly, eyes dim and unreadable. "Was she, now?" He remained still for a moment, then continued on as if it were nothing.

Heiji watched him curiously, then turned his attention towards the door as customers began to appear on the streets.

Hikari stirred, her senses dimly aware of something else, some difference that had not been there when she had gone to sleep. Opening her eyes, she looked over to the side... and smiled, seeing her father curled up against the wall, his sword rested against his shoulder. He was breathing deeply, and there were weary lines drawn across his face. He looked older, somehow. The smile faded.

'Tousan... you wear yourself out so often, nowadays... just for me. You always work so hard...'

Moving carefully so as not to wake or startle him, she tiptoed towards the door and down the stairs, where Heiji's store was bustling with life. She suddenly felt very foolish, trying to stay quiet with all the noise below. If he hadn't been awakened by the customers, why wake at the sound of footsteps? Shrugging, she continued on, hoping to help her new tenant — and teacher — at work.

"Hey! There's my favourite student!" Heiji greeted cheerfully as Hikari appeared in the doorway. A few customers glanced at her briefly, then turned back with disinterest to their own business.

She trotted over to him, watching the store with delight. "Wow, everyone really loves your store! It was be pretty popular in this town."

Heiji grinned easily. "Well, people are curious about Western technology and trade, so it's very common for a store like mine to have lots of customers come through. By the end of the day it'll mellow out a bit. This is the busiest time."

Hikari gazed at one of the clocks on the shelf above her, watching the little hands tick. "Umm... this one has funny numbers on it."

Heiji laughed, taking it off and handing it to her. "Those are called Roman numerals, Hikari. It works like any other clock; it just looks different. See?" He demonstrated, counting each number aloud until she nodded with understanding.

"Just about." Heiji patted her head gently, replacing the clock on the shelf with care. A sudden thought came to him, and he looked down at her again. "Do you want to learn how to work here? I could use a little help. We can call it part of your training."

She looked at him skeptically, but the prospect of learning something new — and working with such strange, interesting objects — caught up with her, and she nodded. "Sure! What can I do first?"

He waved a hand to the stool beside him. "Have a seat, young lady. I'll show you exactly what needs to be done."

Kenshin woke soundlessly, alerted by the growing silence in the store below him. 'Just like in Kyoto,' he mused, though not bitterly as he expected. Sometimes he was grateful for the skills he had learned during the war; the ability to rest during a heated argument — yet still be able to wake when there was a chance of violence — was a skill he often took advantage of. He listened for a moment, hearing Hikari's cheerful goodbyes to the last customers and Heiji's bustling to lock up, then stood, sword in hand, to walk downstairs and meet them.

"Tousan, you're awake!" Hikari waved with a smile, sitting on a stool at the front counter. He smiled back, puzzled but not unhappily so.

Heiji was sweeping the floors, and he gave him a quick nod of greeting. "Evening, Himura-san. Were you able to sleep with all that noise?"

Kenshin nodded, glancing around the shop. "It wasn't unbearable. Shall I go to the kitchen and begin dinner?"

With Hikari's playful giggles behind him, Kenshin felt at ease as he began to prepare the meal. It wasn't long after that pleasant scents began to fill the house, and both Heiji and Hikari were drawn into the kitchen to help — or hinder, depending on one's perspective.

"So, Himura-san, you said something about going back to the gambling joint tonight?" Heiji asked, play-fighting with Hikari using the chopsticks Kenshin had laid out.

Hikari glanced up at her father, and Heiji poked her in the stomach. "Hara!" he called triumphantly. Kenshin looked over briefly, a small smile on his face.

"Bad form!" he mock-growled, rubbing his head. "And I think that would be Shomen."

"No, no, it's important for a swordsman to know what part is which. Here, we can make this a lesson right now..." To prove his point, Heiji began poking each part of her body with the chopstick, reciting each with ease, and she soon fell over, laughing and rolling away.

Kenshin shook his head with an inaudible sigh. "You'll have to, anyway. It's finished."

The game was instantly abandoned at the prospect of food, and the trio settled down to eat. Heiji took a moment between mouthfuls to look over at Kenshin curiously. "You never answered my question, Himura-san."

Kenshin didn't look at him, continuing to eat peaceably. "I thought we were to discuss it later."

Heiji waved a hand. "Now now you two, don't get irritable. Himura, this is later, and Hikari's going to insist on knowing what's going on, so you may as well tell it all."

Kenshin hesitated, then nodded. "I already told you this morning. I'll leave in a few hours; they usually don't gather together until later on, and nothing of consequence happens until nightfall." He stood, moving towards the window to watch the streets. "When they get drunk, they say foolish things. I think-" he halted, suddenly, his eyes widening at the sight that suddenly reached his gaze. A group of armed men were making their way down the abandoned street, glaring forward into the dark with a deep sense of defiance.

In the center of the group, looking incredibly nervous and wary, was Kuroi Shinzo. The wakizashi was at his side.

Kenshin watched them, eyes narrowed, until they disappeared into an alley down the street. Aware of Heiji and Hikari calling out to him in concern, he closed the window, taking a deep breath to calm the irrational anger that arose at the night of the boy. "Heiji-dono... are you aware of any government officials in this town at the moment?"

Heiji thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes... I seem to recall hearing something about a man making occasional visits here for the last few years. He hasn't done any harm himself, but there are rumours... about him being involved with the yakuza. Why do you ask? Did you see someone?"

"Someone," Kenshin murmured. He turned back to them, eyes resolute and angry. "I've changed my mind... I'm leaving right now. Take care; they are awake and active tonight. I will keep watch as well as I can."

Hikari watched him, worry and fear in her eyes. Slowly she stood, taking his hand and curving one arm around him. "Be careful, tousan."

He brushed a hand through her hair, wishing she didn't have such a calming effect on him sometimes. He needed the anger that fueled him right now. "Don't wait for me. I'll return by morning."

With that spoken, he pulled away and disappeared into the growing darkness of the street.

He tailed the group of swordsman fairly easily, his feet padding quietly on the roofs of the houses above them. They moved in complete ignorance of him, as they were meant to, and only Shinzo seemed to have suspicions, though the boy had been paranoid even before Kenshin had noticed him.

'He seems to have weakened in his confidence since I last saw him,' he observed, pausing whenever the group stopped and taking the time to watch the boy. 'He's far too jumpy, easily startled... he has no focus or concentration. Why is he with the yakuza?' His eyes widened. 'Kuroi-san... if he is involved, then surely his son...'

He grit his teeth, one hand rested on the sword, for reassurance more than anything. 'I'll have to speak with him... later.'

They reached the gambling house soon after, the noise reaching them long before it was seen. Laughter, loud and raucous, erupted from within, and Shinzo seemed to cringe into his gi even further. 'Curious,' Kenshin thought to himself, landing silently in the alleyway beside the building and crouching in the shadows, the sakabatou curved close to his body. 'Perhaps there's more to this story than the boy we met at Gatsu's dojo.'

He waited, listening for voices that were recognizable through the muffled crowd. After a long moment, as those inside noticed the new arrivals, it quieted down, and the leader of the small group spoke up, his voice fierce and angry as it had been the previous day.

"He's still resisting," the man growled, sword clinking beneath his fingers, "And he's acting just like a coward, hiding behind that samurai he's hired... the man doesn't even kill his enemies. He's nothing but a weakling!"

"A weakling who defeated you and ten of your men," another muttered, and several others laughed.

"Be quiet for a moment, Kage," an unknown voice growled from the corner. "Your voice, and the constantly stupid comments that come from it annoy me to no end."

Masaki laughed, low and mocking. "I take no orders from you. Is this not a place of freedom for us, where rank means nothing unless our boss is present? I doubt he appreciates that attitude of yours."

Kenshin's eyes widened, then narrowed sharply. The new voice was light and calm, almost a caress compared to the roughness surrounding it. It was a voice of eloquence and ease, accustomed to wealth and the power that came with it.
It was, unmistakably, the voice of Kuroi Atari.

"Boss." Kage murmured a quick obeisance in respect to the man who must have just entered, by the silence that suddenly formed. Kenshin drew closer to the wall, pressing his ear against it.

"Kage, what have I told you about Asuhara Heiji?" Kuroi said quietly, snapping his fingers. Footsteps, as a serving girl moved to his side, a plate of foot in her hands.

"That... he is a skilled swordsman, and would help our organization a great deal." The man replied as if the words pained him.

"And what have I told you about plotting against Asuhara?" The government official — and evidently yakuza leader and conspirator — questioned at an almost lazy, uncaring pace, obviously enjoying himself.

"That anyone who wants to argue your claims must consult you first before telling the others." Kage swallowed. Hard.
There was a long pause, and then, a sharp intake of breath — Kage's — as a sword was unsheathed.

Cursing silently, Kenshin backed away and jumped, one foot catching the window of the building beside him and using it as a ledge to reach the roof. His foot made a soft thud at he landed, and he immediately crouched out of sight, peering down cautiously to watch. He grimaced, wishing for a better position in which to hear the continued conversation. Instead, he could do nothing more than watch, as two men led Kage outside like a whipped dog. Their voices echoed in the wind, lifeless and uncaring.

Kage was being exceptionally brave for a fool, Kenshin thought distantly, wracking his brain over what to do. To act, in order to stop the murder, would give away his position; to let the man die went against everything he believed in. Part of his mind — the dark, calculating voice of reason — whispered as a reminder that this man was part of an illegal group, who obviously had no objections to killing others.

Kenshin watched, stunned and somewhat relieved, as they beat, rather than killed, the man who was to be punished.

'He got off lucky,' was his first coherent thought. Still feeling a little guilty about leaving the man, whoever he may be, he turned his attention back to the gambling joint, as the front entrance slid open, and a figure stepped into the moonlight.

He followed the boy's movement, as he walked further into the street and past his father's organization, arms curled around his body, his face a pure echo of distaste.

'Not so happy to be using others anymore? Perhaps I mistook your foolishness for something it was not. Were you forced into this... or did you choose, and are now regretting it?'

One step forward, and he was on the ground behind the boy. Another two, and he suddenly found himself in a position he had been in before, with the same person.

Shinzo was growing adjusted to the touch of cold steal at his throat, a thought he didn't enjoy entertaining at all. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. The hand that restrained his hand behind his back was carried a surprising strength, considering the size of it and the man it belonged to. He couldn't see who it was, but the shadow looming over him didn't seem much larger than his own.

Shinzo blinked, not expecting either the words or the voice that went with them. "... Hi... Himura?"

A low chuckle. "Oh, I'm honoured that you took the liberty to remember my name. Do you have any idea," the voice took a more serious tone, "How much trouble you seem to be causing me?"

"And this is my fault?" Shinzo retorted, some strength returning to his tremulous voice. This was Hitokiri Battousai... but this was also the man who had been disinclined to kill him three times now.

The arm pulled back, rather hard. "It is when there is a threat, either to me or those I know. I am currently working for the man your father wants for his gang. Heiji-dono resists, and your father obviously lied to me at our last meeting. I want an answer, Shinzo."

Frustration and anger growing in his mind, Shinzo stopped struggling and took a breath, lifting his head to call for help.

"Don't." Himura murmured, deadly and insistent. "I will not kill you, but the shame you will carry for not being able to deal with your own problems will haunt you for a long time. It is a simple question; don't turn it into more than it is. You're obviously not happy with what your father is doing. Do something about it."

The boy sniffled, as a sudden tear of pure helplessness trailed down his cheek. "L... let go..." he pleaded quietly, fists clenched tightly.

The sword shifted away from his throat. "Can I trust you, Shinzo? As much as I feel I cannot, I really do want to. Give me a reason to release you."

Shinzo shut his eyes, hanging his head. "I'll... I'll tell you what you want. Anything you want. But not here, where they'll see. Give me that much, at least."

Kenshin hesitated, then nodded, letting go and stepping away. Shinzo breathed a soft sigh of relief, then blinked, startled, as he realized the wakizashi was gone. He whirled around, teeth grinding together in anger, as Kenshin slid the weapon through his hakama. "A good reason," he said softly, meeting the boy's eyes with a frigid calm, "But not enough. I will carry it until I am certain you won't feel inclined to attack me. You did the last time you held this weapon in my presence, after all."

Shinzo flushed bright red, and muttered and agreement. "Follow me then; I know a place we can talk." 'He's too good... he knows I can't return without it. Chikusho...'

Turning away, he headed down the street, his footsteps the only sound echoing through the air. There was a soft fluttering in the wind, and he looked back again, astonished to find the hitokiri gone. Irrational panic filled his mind — gone, and with him, the wakizashi and the trust his father had placed in him — but it soon faded, as Himura's shadow appeared on the roof of the building beside him. The man stared down at him for a moment, seeking understanding, then he vanished from sight once more. Himura was trailing out of sight, so no suspicions would be placed on him when he returned to his father's men.

Shinzo frowned, wondering why the man would feel the need to protect him like that. He began to walk towards the appointed place, feeling a strange chill at his back, and the touch of cool, hunter's eyes on him.

It wasn't long before Shinzo led him to his father's estate, curving around the back and heading towards a small storage hut in the yard near the outer woods. They walked in silence, Kenshin suddenly appearing through the shadows behind him, causing Shinzo the slightest shiver at the ease in which he did so. Stubbornly he refused to look back, and instead went straight into the shed and lit a lamp waiting by the door. He knelt, placing the lamp to the side, and looked expectantly at the swordsman.

Kenshin shut the door behind him, then lowered himself to his knees in front of Shinzo. "How long has your father been involved in these affairs?"

Shinzo scowled. "A few years. He started maybe three years after the war ended. It's... it's just harmless funding of a few yakuza groups. Nothing, really."

"Nothing?" Kenshin's eyes narrowed. "You know how the yakuza work. Giving them funds is like hiring assassins."

Kenshin sighed softly, closing his eyes. "Fine. Is he involved in any sort of smuggling, assassinations, or..." He gazed into Shinzo's averted eyes, determined. "These recruiting methods they've been executing?"

Shinzo grimaced. "S... some. Not all. The yakuza smuggle a few drugs using the village as a base, but he's not here often enough to be really involved. He has..." He tensed, shaking slightly. "He has been involved in a few assassinations... but that was years ago, closer to the Revolution. Everyone was ordering assassinations in those days." Shinzo's face rose only a little. "You should know."

Kenshin bit back the flushing anger at his comment, and merely nodded. "Aa. But tell me... why is he so interested in Heiji-dono?"

The boy's eyes widened, and bit his lower lip. "I... I don't know. Maybe he has connections — the business, for example — and wants to use them for the smuggling. I have no idea how my father works." There was a sudden hint of bitterness in his admission.

Kenshin began to understand. "Is that why you allowed yourself to be pulled in as well? To learn more?"

The former assassin's eyes flickered. "I should say the same to you, Shinzo. That name has no place here. If you had any sense at all, or any knowledge of my past, I would not speak so insultingly to the man who holds your weapon."

The boy burned crimson again, and he contented himself with another glare. "Fine. I was trying to prove myself to my father — just like I did in Gatsu-sensei's dojo — and it wasn't working, okay? Maybe I... I don't..."

"Shinzo, I saw your face as you left your father's... establishment. It was not the expression of a man who is pleased with his surroundings."

"What do you care whether I'm happy or not?" Shinzo spat, his voice haggard. "You're just trying to ruin my father and save yourself. Why don't you just stay out of it?"

Kenshin shook his head. "Your father, by his crimes, is ruining himself. I don't want to see you drag yourself down with him. You must make a choice, Shinzo — you can save yourself before he falls. I cannot allow him to continue."

Shinzo brushed a hand across his eyes, then turned to him, a fierce look on his face. Their eyes met, and the younger man halted before he spoke, the harsh words on his tongue falling back.

There was an incredible, deeply-knit compassion in Hitokiri Battousai's violet eyes.

"Shinzo," he said softly, with gentle sincerity, "I am going to give you the wakizashi. I am going to leave this place, and return to the gambling hall. You have a choice — something I suspect your father has not given you for a long time. You can choose to ignore my presence, allow me to continue protecting the man who requested my help... or you can return as well, to tell your father what has happened and, perhaps, kill us all. If you can," he added, no small warning added to the message.

Shinzo's gaze lowered to the black-sheathed weapon at Himura's waist. He found himself looking away. Back to the wanderer's eyes.

"Or," Kenshin continued, "You can stop falling before you are broken. You can save yourself from his fate. Heiji-dono is currently teaching my daughter; if you wish to continue your studies of kendo, I am certain he would be willing to take you as his student as well. I would also greatly appreciate your assistance in what I am trying to do, though I will not require anything more from you."

Leaning down, he blew on the flame of the lantern, extinguishing it. There was a soft sound, as the wakizashi was carefully removed from his waist and placed on the floor. He stood, moving towards the door, and exited, leaving only a single word.

Shinzo stared after him, one hand reaching out for his weapon. That hand, and only that hand, was shaking, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop it.