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An Unexpected Lesson: Chapter 3

by Conspirator ::: 05.Apr.2004

"They’re quite talented, aren’t they?"

Ikuko was sitting with Kenshin in the courtyard of the doctor’s home, watching the men and boys practicing gymanstics stunts, and she was clearly proud of her family. The women, who were the troupe’s musicians, had just finished practicing for the afternoon’s small performance, and they had come to watch the men do their back handsprings, double flips, and juggling. The children practiced alongside the men, dropping out only when the men went on to something they hadn’t learned yet.

"There is no one in all of kabuki who can equal the skill of my husband and sons at acrobatics," Ikuko said admiringly. "Perhaps they could teach you a few things, eh?"

Kenshin chuckled. If only she knew, he thought. Much of what the men were doing was almost identical to some of the leaps and jumps of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. He started to wonder if perhaps the first master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Hiko Seijuro the First, had once been an acrobat. Or perhaps his own master, Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth had been. Hiko, of course, had never discussed his own background-he claimed he had sprung fully grown from the head of a god. The men of the Daisuke family did not leap quite as high or spring quite so far as Hiko or Kenshin himself, but then they had no need to. They were in the business of astonishing an audience; practitioners of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu were in the business of keeping themselves alive in a swordfight. Still, watching these men, all of whom were of average height and build, flying through the air only served to remind him of how astounding it was that Hiko, a mountain of a man, could fly even higher and farther, yet land as lightly as a bird.

He watched the children, too, as they practiced their own handsprings and flips. How different their childhoods were compared to his own, he mused. Young Oda, Ryosuke’s four-year-old son, was practicing back walk-overs. Kenshin vaguely remembered when he himself was four. He still had a family then, and it wasn’t acrobatics he learned, but farming, at the side of his father. Ryosuke’s other son, seven-year-old Saburo, was practicing back handsprings. By that age, Kenshin’s family had been long dead, he had been a slave, and he had survived the slaughter of his group by bandits. By the time he was the age of Orinosuke’s son Byako, nine, he had already begun his training with Hiko, and by the time he was not much older than Orinosuke’s twelve-year-old, Bunjiro, he had….

Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, as if that could stop his thoughts from flowing. What was the use of remembering? By the time he was not much older than Bunjiro, he had become an assassin. He had been a stupid teenager, convinced he could change the world single-handedly with his sword. It was a mistake that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Even here, so far away from Kyoto and the worst of the Bakumatsu, someone had already recognized him and a second one was close to figuring it out. All he wished to do, with whatever remained of his life, was to atone for all the lives he had taken, to bury the memory of the Hitokiri Battousai, but once people found out what he had been, they never thought of him as anything but.

He was lost in thought when suddenly he heard Bunjiro call out, "Byako, NO!" His head shot up just in time to see Byako launch himself from the top of the well in an attempt to do a double flip. It took only a split second for Kenshin to see that the boy hadn’t launched himself with enough power and would end up landing on his head or neck. Without even thinking, he flew across the courtyard faster than the eye could see. Byako was mere inches from hitting the ground when Kenshin managed to grab him around the waist and pull him backward. He fell onto his own back with the boy on top of him and then slid several feet before coming to a stop. When he looked up, he saw Bunjiro and the men running over. Byako turned to look at Kenshin, panic in his eyes as the boy began to realize how close he had come to breaking his neck. Orinosuke arrived only seconds later, to find his son lying on top of Kenshin, crying.

"What the hell are you doing to my son!" Orinosuke roared as he ran over. "Get your hands off of him!" He grabbed Byako’s arm and started to pull him up roughly.

"Father! Stop!" Bunjiro cried out. "Byako-he was trying to do a double flip off the well! He almost snapped his neck! If Kenshin-san hadn’t…."

"Hadn’t what-gotten him into some kind of perverted embrace?!"

Kenshin slowly sat up, now that the weight of Byako was off his chest, to find himself surrounded by Daisuke, Orinosuke, and Ryosuke.

"Orinosuke-san," Kenshin began, "it’s the truth…."

Orinosuke let go of Byako’s arm and grabbed Kenshin by the gi. "If I ever find you touching my son again…."

Now Baiko came running through the gate into the courtyard, sword drawn.

"Who’s being attacked?" he yelled as he skidded to a stop. When he saw that Orinosuke had Kenshin by the gi and that Kenshin was not resisting, he did a double-take, then looked around for danger. All he found, though, were the members of the Daisuke family. "What the hell’s going on?"

"Baiko-san, you can put that sword away. No one’s under attack-except maybe the rurouni here," Daisuke said pointedly.

Orinosuke glared at Daisuke, then at Baiko’s sword, then let Kenshin go. "I’d like to know what’s going on myself," he said in a dangerous tone of voice.

"I’ll tell you what happened," said Ikuko. She glared at her son as she placed herself between him and Kenshin. "Byako knows he’s not supposed to do double flips by himself, but he took it upon himself to jump off that well and try it while Bunjiro wasn’t looking. Himura-san and I were sitting on the porch talking when we heard Bunjiro yell. I looked up to see that Byako was about to land on his neck. The next thing I knew, Himura-san had caught him. This man saved your son from a terrible accident!"

Orinosuke looked from Kenshin to the porch and back again. "No man can run that fast," he snarled.

"Well, that may be, but that’s what he did," countered Ikuko angrily. "The fact is, your son’s neck is not broken because this man did something you say no man can do. You owe him an apology, not a fistfight!"

Kenshin had sat through the entire tirade with head bowed, not wanting to get involved in what had apparently turned into a family feud. The anger emanating from Orinosuke’s ki was tremendous, and no amount of apologizing would change that fact.

"Ikuko-dono," Kenshin said softly, "there is no need for that. The boy is safe, nothing else matters."

Orinosuke was visibly having a hard time controlling his anger. He looked over at Byako, who was enfolded in his mother’s arms, then at Bunjiro, who looked scared that something terrible was about to happen. He gritted his teeth and gave a stiff partial bow to Kenshin.

"I acknowledge the service you performed for my son," he finally spat out. Then he stalked away.

With the situation now defused, Daisuke extended a hand to help Kenshin up. He found himself surprised at the strength of Kenshin’s grip, as well as the power he felt surging through that grip. For someone who looked so slight, such strength was unexpected. He watched as Kenshin dusted himself off, wondering what else there was to learn about this young man.

"We don’t have time for bickering," Daisuke said in a tired voice to his family. "We have a show to put on in less than an hour. Byako, you will not be performing today-you will help your Aunt Mei watch the younger children."

Byako opened his mouth to protest, but Daisuke sent him a look that immediately shut his mouth. "And young man," he said to Kenshin, who was covered in dirt, "you might want to go clean up."

As everyone headed through the gate to the wagon, Daisuke walked over to Orinosuke, who had been standing some distance away with his arms crossed and his eyes shooting fire.

"What has gotten into you, First Son?" Daisuke asked with genuine concern.

Orinosuke glared at his father. "You don’t see it, do you," he stated in a somewhat patronizing way. "There’s something about that boy that isn’t right. I don’t trust him."

Daisuke watched Kenshin disappear through the gate. He could still feel the surprising strength of Kenshin’s grip.

"I know what you mean-there is something I can’t quite put my finger on. But without any other evidence, all I can go by is the man’s actions and what my actor’s intuition tells me. His actions have all been most honorable-even you would have to admit that. My intuition tells me he has a peaceable heart, that he does not pose a danger to us."

Orinosuke snorted out a bark of a laugh. "Peaceable-that’s what you think? He’s hiding something from us, I’m sure of it."

"Every man has his secrets," Daisuke retorted. "Even you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Orinosuke snapped.

"You know damn well what I mean, and it’s what’s really behind that anger of yours," Daisuke snapped back. "We’re not moving back to Kyoto, and that’s final!"

Daisuke abruptly turned and walked away, leaving an astonished Orinosuke to sputter angrily. In truth, however, Daisuke did think his son had a point. The rurouni did have some kind of secret, and the surprising strength behind Kenshin’s grip had unsettled his mind just a little. Daisuke had always prided himself on being able to judge a man’s character, and he was positive this stranger was exactly what he seemed-a kind young man who, he guessed, had witnessed some sort of tragedy or maybe had lost his family during the Bakumatsu. But a danger to them? He just didn’t feel it. Still, there was definitely something…. Yet when Orinosuke had grabbed the rurouni, the man had put up no resistance. No, this man was peaceable and not a danger to the family. It would be interesting, however, to see what he would be like as an actor, for in the process of acting, he knew from experience, sometimes a man’s hidden secrets came to light.

By three o’clock, the wagon had been pulled around to the town’s center and colorful flags were waving from poles marking out a large, rectangular performance space. As this was an outdoor performance, no admission fee was charged, but Baiko sat at the entrance to take, and guard, donations.

Kenshin stayed with the wagon, however. His brown gi now had several new holes in it from the fall he had taken earlier with Byako, and it was in deseparate need of mending. If Ikuko had thought the brown gi was in sorry shape, he could only imagine what she would think of the spare gi he was now wearing! It was the turn of Ryosuke’s wife, Mei, to watch the younger children, so he sat with her and half-sewed, half-watched as the men and boys performed a series of spectacular gymnastic stunts, followed by displays of juggling and magic. The women, whose music had accompanied the acrobatics, then performed several popular songs, followed by a story-dance performed by Noriko. Mei, who had been keeping Nomi and Oda occupied, couldn’t help but notice what he was doing.

"You’re very handy with a needle and thread," she commented in her chirpy voice.

Kenshin chuckled. "A rurouni must know how to do everything for himself, ne?" he replied amiably.

"I suppose, but we were all sad nevertheless that your clothing got torn."

"The boy’s safety was more important than my worn-out gi," he noted as he poked his finger through one of the new holes. He looked over at Byako, who was off to the side, brooding silently. He remembered doing quite a bit of brooding himself when he was that age, usually due to being teased by Hiko.

Mei sighed deeply. Then she turned to Kenshin with a serious face and said, "Orinosuke-kun is very unhappy right now, and he took it out on you."

Kenshin looked at her in surprise. It wasn’t that he didn’t know Orinosuke was unhappy-the man’s ki practically screamed it-but that Mei had been so open about telling him. He wasn’t used to this kind of candor, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. Mei noticed his embarrassment.

"Please forgive me-I’ve made you uncomfortable," she said apologetically. "Just know that our family is happy to have you travel with us, even if some of us may not show it."

The performance was now over, and the family discovered that the audience had been more than generous. Between the amount of actual money taken in and the donations of other items, there was more than enough to keep them in supplies and still make a profit. So, they bought some fresh food at one of the local shops, then headed out of town to find a quiet place to camp. They traveled only fifteen minutes down the road before finding the perfect spot-secluded enough so they could rehearse the next day in privacy, but still not too far from the doctor’s home, where Ennosuke was being kept overnight.

Dinner was a relatively sumptuous affair, with fruits and vegetables and even fish bought in town. The tensions from the afternoon seemed to have vanished, except for a simmering anger Kenshin could still sense coming from Orinosuke. Soon it was time for the children to go to bed, and Kenshin joined Baiko in checking the perimeter of their small encampment before taking their own things to the area near where they had hitched the horse. As they passed by Daisuke’s tent, Daisuke called out, "Himura-san-tomorrow you start work."

Kenshin nodded in acknowledgement, but secretly felt a stab of dread in the pit of his stomach. He knew nothing about acting, and certainly nothing about acting like a woman! What ever possessed him to agree to this crazy idea in the first place? But the comfortably full feeling in his belly reminded him. Well, if he could survive a war, certainly he could survive this, he figured!

As they finished the perimeter check, Baiko said, "I think I’d better stand sentry tonight, considering what Satoshi-sensei said this afternoon about yakuzas in the area. You go ahead and turn in."

"We could split the job, if you wish," Kenshin offered. "No sense you staying up all night when there’s two of us."

Baiko considered the offer. He had only met Kenshin yesterday, but he seemed trustworthy enough. Anyway, their mutual acquaintance Matsuo had vouched for him.

"Sure," Baiko decided, "why not. You take the first watch-I’ll come relieve you sometime around midnight."

With that decided, Kenshin and Baiko started heaping leaves and pine needles for makeshift mattresses and then opened their bedrolls, but they were interrupted as Mayako, Mei, and Noriko came looking for Kenshin. Mayako was holding a green gi in her arms.

"Himura-san," Mayako said, somewhat uncomfortably, "my sisters-in-law and I agreed that it was a shame that your clothing became ripped when you helped my son."

Himura-san? Why the change from the curt ‘Himura’ of earlier in the day, Kenshin wondered?

"We would be honored if you would accept this replacement," she went on as she held the gi out to him. "It’s only plain cotton, and it’s a bit worn, but it’s in better condition than your own."

Kenshin looked down at the spare gi he had changed into earlier so that he could mend his brown one. It was a sickly yellow, and it did tend to make him look jaundiced. Still, he didn’t feel right accepting the gi Mayako offered.

"It’s my husband’s, so it might fit you," Ennosuke’s wife Noriko said when she saw that Kenshin made no move to take it. "Please accept it."

Mayako nodded her head in agreement and held the gi out closer to him.

"It is our way of thanking you for what you did for my son," Mayako added.

Kenshin didn’t know what to say. He reluctantly took the gi and said, "Sessha is most grateful, Kawayama-dono."

"Just call me Mayako," Mayako said. Then, after a series of formal bows, the women walked back towards the wagon.

"Well, this day has just been full of surprises," Baiko muttered as he watched them leave. "Old Ice Woman actually has a heart!"

Kenshin was holding his new gi somewhat in disbelief. "Sessha knows what you mean," he said in a dazed sort of way.

He took the new gi and put it carefully into his travel bag; he would wear it tomorrow. Then he took up his sentry post. This day had, indeed, been full of surprises, not least Mayako’s change of heart. In truth, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It made sense that a wife might hold the same beliefs as her husband, so it was no shock that she had been as cold and suspicious as Orinosuke had been. Yet he knew that the incident involving their son Byako had, if anything, made matters worse between himself and Orinosuke. Mayako, on the other hand, seemed to have changed her mind. He shook his head-family politics was strange territory for him. As the night wore on, he found himself too tired to sort it all out, and he was glad when Baiko finally came to relieve him so he could settle down to sleep.

Sleep, for Kenshin, was always a touch-and-go affair, of course. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he would sleep soundly, occasionally even remembering a good dream. More often than not, though, sleep brought only torment in the form of nightmares. So, every night as he closed his eyes, he could only hope that this would be one of the good nights, and at first it seemed that he had gotten his wish.

As he drifted off to sleep, he found himself thinking of the morning’s walk to town, when he had talked with Noriko and the children. And so, as he dreamed, he found himself hearing the sounds of children playing happily. As he looked around in his dream, he realized he was back in Otsu, in the little farmhouse he had shared with Tomoe. She was out on the porch, a tiny smile gracing her face as she watched the children in the yard. He walked out to stand with her and put his arm around her, feeling her nestle against him in contentment. Then he saw that the children in the yard were not just any children, but their children-they had created a family, and they were very happy.

He was a farmer now, not a soldier, and after placing a peck on her cheek, he went off to check their little vegetable plot of daikons and lettuce. As he walked toward it, he saw, with pride, the beautiful lacy green fronds atop the daikons and the deep green of the lettuce leaves, but as he neared the plot, the green started turning a sickly white. In a panic, he ran to see what was the matter. To his horror, the fronds and leaves suddenly turned into the hands and arms of the dead, all trying to grab him and pull him down. Not believing what his eyes were telling him, he desperately pulled up one of the daikons, only to find that what he had pulled up was not a daikon, but a bloody, severed head. He yelled for Tomoe, but when she appeared, she, too, was covered with blood and pointing accusingly at him. He screamed as he tried to get away from the grasping hands and the bloody vision of Tomoe. He awoke with a start to find himself not in Otsu, but sitting on his bedroll, sweat dripping down his face and his heart racing. He panicked suddenly at the thought that his screams might have awakened the entire camp, but he saw that Baiko had not budged from where he stood sentry. It had all been a dream.

He sat, now, with his head in his arms. What right did he have to think he could ever have a family? What right did he have to think he could ever know such contentment and happiness? No, it would always come back to this-he had been an assassin, he had taken too many lives. It didn’t matter whether the cause had been just or not-nothing could change that fact. What was it Ikuko had said when he was trying on those costumes? They were offering to teach him how to bring happiness and joy to people, instead of suffering and death? It was nothing but a joke, another cruel hoax on the part of the gods. When he had been an assassin, the gods would toy with him by offering him hope, then they would gleefully dash that hope to pieces. Now they were doing it again. But he found he couldn’t let go of that hope. Now he prayed desperately that what Ikuko had offered to teach, he would be allowed to learn.

Baiko awoke with a start the next morning as the sun came up. How could he have fallen asleep while on guard duty! Oh, well, if yakuzas had come in the night, he figured, he would have heard them. So he shook the sleep from his eyes, then turned to look back towards the camp, expecting to see Kenshin asleep on his bedroll. Baiko was a light sleeper and was sure he would have heard Kenshin if he had gotten up already, so it was more than a shock to find an empty bedroll and no sign of Kenshin anywhere. Probably the guy was just off doing his business, like the previous morning, but he didn’t like the fact that Kenshin had managed to sneak off without him hearing it. One couldn’t be too careful these days, and despite Kenshin’s seemingly mild demeanor, the man was the infamous Hitokiri Battousai. He quickly assured himself that none of his own things had been touched, then he quietly checked the area around the wagon. After all, Kenshin had had a rather nasty run-in with Orinosuke the day before, and the family had taken in a bit of money at the previous day’s performance, but everyone seemed to be breathing and nothing was missing. So why the stealth, he wondered?

He decided not to wait for the rurouni to return. Instead, he headed out towards the stream that ran nearby. Perhaps Kenshin had decided to take a quick bath, despite the morning chill. It was as he was nearing the stream that he heard it-the unmistakable whoosh of a sword slicing through the air. It was coming from near a small grove of trees not far downstream, and as he followed the sound, he could see a glint of silver as the rising sun caught on the sword’s blade. He crouched low and crawled as quietly as he could towards the grove, fully expecting to find the yakuzas the townspeople had told him about. Instead, as he got nearer, he saw a flash of red hair flying high in the air. He crawled even closer and held his breath. It was Kenshin-no, the Battousai, he concluded-practicing the most amazing kata he had ever seen in his life. The unbelievable agility of the movements, the godlike speed of the sword, the incredible height of the leaps-never had he seen anything like it. No wonder Kenshin didn’t want anyone to know.

Baiko was mesmerized. He lost track of time as he crouched in the tall grass and watched a display of swordsmanship that seemed to defy the laws of speed and gravity. The kata eventually moved to the final movements that served to slow down the heart and cool the muscles. It was then that Baiko saw Kenshin turn his head slightly in his direction and give a discreet nod to acknowledge his presence. Damn, how could he tell, Baiko wondered? Since there was no point in hiding anymore, Baiko stood up and walked the short distance over to Kenshin just as Kenshin was resheathing his sword.

"A bit early for practice, isn’t it," Baiko said, trying to be nonchalant about the display he had just witnessed.

Kenshin shrugged his shoulders. "Couldn’t sleep," he answered. "Anyway, I needed that after being dressed up in women’s clothes yesterday."

"That bothered you, did it?" Baiko commented as they started back to the campsite.

"It was a rather strange feeling," Kenshin said, smiling slightly.

Having just witnessed the most unbelievable display of swordsmanship he had ever seen, Baiko found the mental picture of Kenshin in woman’s clothing more than a little unsettling. What was with this man? With skills like his, he could make a fortune with his sword alone, if not as a soldier, then certainly as a kenjutsu instructor. Men would flock to learn what he did, even in the Meiji era. Instead, he was a penniless wanderer willing to dress up like a woman to earn some free meals? It didn’t make sense.

"So that was the legendary Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, huh?" asked Baiko, hoping to get some kind of explanation from him.

"Aa," Kenshin responded. He was not, as Baiko was finding out, a man of many words.

"I didn’t think a human could move that fast," Baiko said.

"My shishou was faster," Kenshin responded matter-of-factly.

Faster than Kenshin? "But… but… that’s not humanly possible!" he sputtered. "Is it?"

Kenshin didn’t answer, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.

"Well, I’m sure glad I was never on the receiving end of it," Baiko muttered softly.

"So is this one," Kenshin replied.

By this time, they had reached the edge of the campsite, and the horse was snorting impatiently for his breakfast. Kenshin went to fetch the feedbag and get the oats, then grabbed two buckets to get some water. Baiko picked up two more buckets and joined him as he walked back to the stream.

"So," Baiko said, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen, "you must have studied kenjutsu a long time to get that good."

"Sessha was very young, but yes, you could say that," Kenshin said.

"I didn’t learn to use a sword until I was eighteen," Baiko commented. "The Satsuma army taught me."

Kenshin looked at Baiko. He didn’t know the man’s age, but he could tell it was several years more than his own twenty-one. That meant he must have fought during the Bakumatsu itself.

"You fought for Satsuma even before the Boshin War?" Kenshin asked.

"Yeah, after Satsuma allied with Chousu against the Shogunate, about two years before Toba Fushimi. I was working on the docks in Kagoshima, and they were looking for recruits. I hated my job and it sounded exciting, so I joined up. Never did learn real kenjutsu. Their theory was that brawn was as good as formal training if you’re fighting against an army, and after working on the docks, I had plenty of that. They just taught us the basics of offense and defense and sent us off. I guess they were right, ‘cause I’m still alive."

They had reached the stream and filled their buckets and were now heading back again. Silence had once again descended, but now Baiko was in a talkative mood.

"You got any plans?" he finally asked after awhile. "Me, when I get back home, I’m going to become a carpenter, then find a good woman and settle down."

"Weren’t you a dockworker?" Kenshin asked amiably as he dodged the initial question.

"Aa," he replied, "but one of my army buddies was a carpenter, and in our spare time he taught me how to make things, like tables and cabinets. Now that the government’s abolished that old class system thing, I can do what I want."

"That’s true," Kenshin agreed.

"What about you?" Baiko pressed. He was hoping to get a better idea of what made Kenshin tick. "What do you plan to do?"

"Me?" Kenshin asked. He was clearly uncomfortable with the question.

"Yeah-you don’t plan to be a rurouni all your life, do you?"

Kenshin let out a long sigh. "Most likely," he said.

"What? No one wants to wander forever-do they?"

Kenshin stopped walking. "There is no other choice for someone like me," Kenshin answered in a barely audible voice. "It doesn’t matter what this one wants."

"But you’re a war hero and all!"

Kenshin’s eyes flashed gold. "War hero?" he hissed. His eyes locked onto Baiko’s with a strange, glowing intensity. "I was an assassin." He spit the last word out with a vehemence that took Baiko aback.

"But… if it hadn’t been for you," Baiko said after he regained his composure, "the new era never would have come-I mean, everybody says so! And anyway, there’s not a soldier alive who hasn’t killed someone!"

"But I killed in cold blood," Kenshin said in a voice so cold it sent shivers down Baiko’s spine. "Hundreds of men lost their lives to my blade. Not just soldiers, but men whose only crime was to support the Shogunate."

"The war’s over, though-it’s settled! The Ishin Shishi won!" Baiko countered.

"But the desire for revenge never ends," Kenshin retorted. "It’s been three years since this one started wandering. Do you know what has happened if someone tries to be kind to me? The revenge-seekers kill them, hoping finally to reach me." At Baiko’s shocked expression, Kenshin added, "It’s happened more than once. Remember when Daisuke-san offered me this job and sessha worried that it would be dangerous for them if this one accepted? It wasn’t because of what sessha might do, but what those seeking me out might do. No, there can be no wife or family for me. My fate was sealed when this one was a young boy, when sessha offered his services to the Chousu. No one can change the past."

Memories of his nightmare came flooding back to him, amplified by the sounds from the campsite, where the children were just now waking up and beginning to chatter among themselves. A wave of intense sadness washed over him as he watched the children receive their good-morning kisses from their parents, as he watched the husbands and wives go about their daily routines. He had had one brief taste of that life, and it had been so sweet. He quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind, but not before Baiko had glimpsed his pain. Baiko couldn’t imagine living with such hopelessness.

"Rurouni," he said, "maybe your luck will change, eh?"

Kenshin smiled wanly. "Thanks for the thought."

They had arrived back at the edge of the campsite now, and Kenshin realized that before he brought the buckets in, he had better change into the green gi Mayako had given him the night before. He had to admit that even though he didn’t care much about what he wore, he really, really didn’t like the sickly yellow gi he currently had on. His brown one, the one he had started mending yesterday, was no great looker, but it was certainly better than this! He decided that if the new green gi worked out, he would burn the yellow one and save the world from ever having to look at its ugliness again!

So, it was with some anticipation that he pulled the green gi from his bag and slipped it on. This had been Ennosuke’s gi, so naturally the sleeves hung down below his fingers, but the feel of it was wonderful. It may have been a only a spare gi to Ennosuke, but to Kenshin it felt positively sumptuous, for it was made out of the smoothest cotton he had ever felt-certainly a far cry from the coarse cloth he was used to. There was no time now, though, to hem the sleeves, so he took out the cord he used for tying back his sleeves and tied the sleeves just enough to bring them up to his wrists. Then he picked up his buckets and headed for the campfire and breakfast.

A pot of water was already over the fire when he arrived, and the women were starting to cook noodles and fish for breakfast, so he put the buckets off to the side and offered his help. Ikuko looked approvingly at his new gi.

"Ah, I see you accepted Mayako-chan’s peace offering," she said. At Kenshin’s questioning look, she added, "The gi."

"Oh!" he stammered. He looked down at the gi as he fingered the material. "This really is too fine for someone like me," he said. "Sessha is most grateful."

"Well, look at it this way," Ikuko said with a devilish glint in her eye. "At least this gi you can wear under your costume-you won’t have to change out of your clothes at all!"

She laughed out loud as she watched Kenshin blush at the memory of having to change in front of her the other day.

"Himura-san, you’re an unusual young man. I like you," she laughed, and then watched him blush even more. She patted his hand, noting once again how he instinctively seemed to tense at the touch. "In fact," she added, "I’m surprised some young thing hasn’t snapped you up yet."

Kenshin’s eyes went wide and he suddenly became very still.

"Did I say something wrong?" Ikuko asked. This reaction she had not expected.

There was a long silence.

"No, Ikuko-dono, you said nothing wrong," Kenshin answered finally. "It’s just that sessha had a bad dream last night, that’s all."

She watched as he started busying himself with getting out trays and chopsticks for everyone. It must have been some nightmare to suddenly cause the air of sadness that seemed to envelope him now. Yet another mystery to this wanderer, she thought.

"Well," she said after a moment, "after breakfast, I’ll start teaching you how to walk and move like a woman. That should erase any bad dreams from your mind."

There-that had brought at least a hint of a smile to his face, she noted.

The family was now gathering for their meal, and Baiko waved Kenshin over to sit next to him.

"You’re in for a real treat," he said as Kenshin sat down. "I hear the men plan to practice their sword kata right after breakfast. I guarantee you’ve never seen anything like this!"

"Kata?" Kenshin asked. "What kind of kata do kabuki actors do?"

Baiko started to chuckle. "You want to know why I think these guys would be useless in a real sword fight? You just watch ‘em, that’s all I can tell you!"

That certainly got Kenshin’s curiosity up, so he was glad when Daisuke started hurrying people along to finish their meals quickly. As soon as they were done, the men headed for the wagon and lowered the chest of armaments that had worried Kenshin so much when he had first arrived. It turned out to have some of the most ornate-looking swords Kenshin had ever seen. The hilts shone of silver and gold, and the sheaths were richly decorated with dragons and other mythical beasts. Baiko nudged him, then took one of the swords out of its sheath. Kenshin expected to see as fine a blade as had ever been made, but instead saw only a totally blunt piece of cheap metal. When Baiko laid the sword into his open hands, he could feel the balance was way off. The sword was totally useless. He looked up at Baiko questioningly.

"All fakes," Baiko explained. "They’re all props. They play emperors and shoguns and famous samurai, which is why their swords look so fancy, but they’re all fakes, and so are their kata."

"Fake kata?"

"Watch," Baiko said.

The men, as well as the older boys, all took their swords and lined up a little ways from the campfire, with Daisuke out front to lead them. Kenshin watched as they began to practice their first swings, which looked like any normal kata from any number of schools of kenjutsu. As they moved into the kata for defensive and offensive moves, however, he saw what Baiko meant. How often had Hiko yelled at him, when he first started learning kenjutsu, for not following through all the way with a particular stroke? But these men purposely stopped in mid-swing! It was almost as if they were afraid to go past the point where their opponent would be standing. What good would that do anyone in a fight, he wondered? Then he realized-fake swords, fake swordsmanship. Of course! They needed to stage a fight, but they didn’t want to kill or injure each other. Daisuke had devised kata to teach them only one-half of a sword fight! Daisuke now called out a series of numbers, and the men paired up to do the moves. Sure enough, the katas had been designed so that the opposing swords met up exactly in the middle, making it look like the men were parrying in a real swordfight. He was impressed by the ingenuity of it all. But Baiko was right-if this was all they practiced on a regular basis, they would be useless in a real sword fight, no matter how much real kenjutsu they had been taught. Still, it was fascinating to watch, and he hated to break away when Ikuko came for him.

But come for him she did, and he dreaded what was in store for him. Seeing himself in the mirror in women’s clothing had been bad enough. He couldn’t imagine what he’d feel like after acting like a woman as well!

"Have you ever watched how a woman walks, Himura-san?" Ikuko asked as they headed for the wagon.

"Is there a difference?" he asked innocently enough.

"A difference? Oh my heavens, yes!" Ikuko laughed. "Why, I didn’t think there was a man alive who hasn’t watched a good-looking woman walk by! What we women do to attract men! Like swiveling our hips a bit, taking dainty little steps, the way we lower our eyes so modestly…."

Kenshin watched as Ikuko changed her walk from that of a fifty-something-year-old matriarch to that of a coquettish young woman.

"Have you never noticed any of this before?" she asked as she mimicked a flirtatious girl coyly peeking out from behind a fan of fingers.

Kenshin turned red. "Um, well, sessha….," he stuttered. Well, of course he noticed girls! He had been married once, hadn’t he? "It’s just that sessha doesn’t exactly stare at them," he managed to say. He was beginning to think Ikuko enjoyed embarrassing him.

"Well, then, I guess it’s time you started doing some staring," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

She rummaged through a box in the wagon, drew out a pair of high geta, and handed them to Kenshin. He put them on and tried to walk-and immediately stumbled and fell over. He picked himself up and tried once more, but only got a few steps further before falling again. The problem was that he had never really used geta much, let alone high ones. They were more expensive than zori, and their rigid wooden construction certainly wasn’t conducive to achieving the speed needed by a swordsman, so he had never owned any. As he picked himself up yet again, he heard Ryosuke’s son Saburo snickering at him. Bunjiro slapped the boy on the head and growled, "Shut up! He saved Byako yesterday, and don’t you forget it!" Great, Kenshin thought, now I’ve got the kids laughing at me.

Ikuko started walking over to him in her high geta, and as she did, Kenshin watched intently. It had never occurred to him to study the way a woman walked. Hiko had taught him to dissect every move, every twitch of an opponent, but of course they were all men. Now he noticed that Ikuko, at least, did move differently. Where a man would stride, she took small steps. Where a man would slide forward in his zori, she moved her feet in a more up-and-down motion. He stood up one more time, this time determined not to fall flat on his face. Ikuko came alongside him and began walking next to him while holding up the hem of her kimono so he could watch her feet. He carefully matched his gait to hers and managed to stay upright. When she stopped, he stopped. When she turned, he turned. When she bent down, he bent down-and immediately fell over.

"No, no, Himura-chan," she said. "Keep those heels on the ground, and don’t spread your legs apart! Remember, modesty!"

Modesty? Oh….

After about half an hour, he started getting the hang of it. He followed Ikuko around the campsite like a puppy dog and mimicked her every move. If she reached out to tousle one of the children’s heads, he reached out next to himself and copied her gesture. If she stopped to adjust her obi, he pretended to do likewise. He began to notice how she achieved the grace that marked her movements. It was an ease of motion very unlike the muscular movements of men trained as warriors. They were the kinds of motions that brought back memories of a certain woman who had managed so long ago to bring him back from the brink of madness. Why did everything, he wondered, always lead back to Tomoe?

"Himura-chan?" Ikuko said, a worried look on her face.

"Oh! Sorry," he replied, smiling sheepishly. He hadn’t realized that he had stopped and was staring off into space.

"Well, perhaps that’s enough of this for now. I think you’ve got the hang of it, at least enough for the play Ryosuke’s revised for you. It’s a good one, too-you’ll enjoy it."

It was a relief to take the uncomfortable geta off and slip into his familiar zori-it almost felt like he was walking on air. What was it Ryosuke had said when Kenshin first agreed to this crazy plan-that walking in high geta would make him appreciate what women have to go through? Boy, was he ever right!

Ikuko sent him off now to Ryosuke, who looked for all the world like an ancient scribe, surrounded as he was by a mountain of paper covered with calligraphy.

"Oi, Himura-san-just the person I want to see!" Ryosuke sang out. He held out a sheaf of papers. "You know how to read? I sure hope so, because this is for you."

Kenshin took the papers and flipped through them. "Aa, I can read, but what is this?"

"It’s the play you’ll be doing. I had to revise it so the other characters say your lines while you do the action. It’s Demons Out, Fortune In, the one where the widow throws out the demon by throwing roasted soybeans at him-a great favorite at Setsubun time."

"But it’s not Setsubun time," Kenshin said.

"I know, but we’re doing a command performance for the Shimazu clan at the shrine outside Miyazaki, and they specifically requested this one."

Kenshin finished scanning the sheets and said, "But this only has three characters in it. Why don’t you do it with your brother and father? You don’t need me."

"Ah, long story," Ryosuke sighed. "The short answer is, we can’t bring everyone’s whole costume wardrobe in the wagon, only one of us was going to bring the onnagata costumes, and Ennosuke drew the short straw. He’s actually becoming quite a good onnagata. Unfortunately, he’s laid up, his costumes are too small for the rest of us-you get the picture."

"But throwing things at each other?" Kenshin looked uncomfortable at the prospect.

"It doesn’t hurt-you’ll see," Ryosuke said, and he led Kenshin off towards the stream to practice.

The two started rehearsing, with Ryosuke demonstrating the stylized movements of kabuki and Kenshin mimicking the motions. Kenshin felt ridiculous at first, but the more he practiced, the more he started to pick up a kind of rhythm to the movements. In fact, it didn’t take him long to get the hang of it, except for one thing.

"Too tense, Himura-san, too tense!" Ryosuke cried out in exasperation for about the hundredth time in an hour. "This is a comedy, not a military drill! You’re making it look like the dance of the prison guards or something!" And for about the hundredth time in an hour, Kenshin apologized profusely for his inability to appear more relaxed.

When they finally reached the point of practicing the last scene, Ryosuke carefully explained what was involved in the climactic bean fight. "The widow’s scared, she remembers a wandering exorcist had earlier thrown some beans on her floor for warding off demons, and she throws them at the demon. Now, you think you can do that?"

Kenshin shook his head yes and took a handful of beans, then watched as Ryosuke mimed the actions of a comically frightened woman throwing beans.

"Now," Ryosuke finished, "walk over there a bit and throw them at me."

Kenshin did as he was told and walked away, but as he did, he heard the sound of something whooshing its way through the air towards his back. Without even thinking, he whirled around and, quicker than the eye could see, caught the unknown missiles in his hand. It was three roasted soybeans. His eyes widened as he tried to comprehend what was going on. When he looked up, he saw Ryosuke standing with his jaw hanging open.

"Ryosuke-san, gomen nasai!" Kenshin said quickly as he realized it was only Ryosuke throwing beans at him. "Sessha… it’s just that this one heard something coming… it was instinct…." He mentally kicked himself for allowing his reflexes to get the better of him.

Ryosuke managed to regain his senses, but he, too, was having trouble comprehending what had just happened. How could the rurouni have done what he just saw? The man’s back was turned, he couldn’t have known Ryosuke was throwing the beans, let alone catch them!

"How did you do that?" Ryosuke asked in wonder. "That is undoubtedly one of the finest tricks I’ve ever seen! An audience would go wild for it!"

Audience? Trick? What was this man talking about! "It’s just something I learned from my shishou," Kenshin said, confusion now replacing the look of apology on his face.

Ryosuke walked over to him and picked up the beans.

"Listen, rurouni," he said, "you are wound up tighter than a top. You’ve got to lighten up. This bean fight, it’s all in fun. You pelt me, I pelt you, we all get a laugh. You’ve been really quick to learn almost everything you need to play this widow, but the easiest thing-the sense of fun-you just can’t seem to get. It’s like being a kid again-you know, when you’d put a frog in your brother’s futon or something. Didn’t you do any of that when you were growing up?"

Kenshin’s eyes became inscrutible-even Ryosuke could see the mental wall going up. "Sessha did not really have a childhood," Kenshin said flatly. "Although…." His voice softened, as did his eyes. "I did put some itchy nettle sap on my shishou’s fundoshi once-he couldn’t walk right for a week. And there was the time I put wasabi powder in his sake…."

"That’s the spirit-that’s what you need here!" Ryosuke exulted. "Tell you what. I’m going get that sense of fun going in you whether you like it or not, so I’m going to order you to play a prank on someone in the family-today. Then just remember what it feels like to plan it, execute it, and watch it happen. You do that, you’ll have the right attitude for this play."

"On your family?" Kenshin gulped. "Sessha couldn’t do that-they’ve been nothing but kind to me!"

"Not everyone, though," Ryosuke pointed out, "so do it to First Brother-Orinosuke."

"What?! But he already doesn’t like me!"

"But he’ll never know, will he, if you do it right," Ryosuke said with a sly smile. "After all, he still doesn’t know who put that frog in his futon, and that was six years ago!"

"But… but…."

Bunjiro was now coming through the grass to call them for lunch.

"No buts, Himura-san," Ryosuke said as he turned to head back to the campsite. "After lunch, Father, First Brother, and I need to rehearse a swordfight, then we go back to the doctor’s house to pick up Ennosuke. That’s plenty of time to plan and execute a good prank, because after dinner, we’ll do a full run-through of your play, and you’ll have to have found that sense of humor by then. Meet you back at the wagon!" Then he was off, leaving Kenshin to wonder just how he was going to do what needed to be done.

After lunch, Kenshin settled himself down against a tree trunk to study his part for the play and ponder what to do about Ryosuke’s ridiculous order. Baiko was standing off to the side watching as he practiced the facial expressions and arm movements Ryosuke had taught him. To Baiko, it all looked positively laughable. He finally walked over and kicked Kenshin’s foot.

"Hey, woman, you got a tic or something?" Baiko joked as he mimicked Kenshin’s flailing movements.

Kenshin leveled a hard glare at him.

"Come on, just joking!" Baiko said.

Kenshin sighed. "This is no joke, Baiko-san," he said with a pained expression on his face. "Ryosuke-san says sessha needs to find a sense of fun, so he’s ordered me to play a prank on Orinosuke-san. This is not a good idea-the man hates this one-but sessha could not convince him of that."

Baiko fingered his chin. "A prank on old sourpuss, eh? Sounds like fun to me, rurouni. Got any ideas?"

"Sessha was hoping you’d help me change his mind."

"Nah, I think it’s a great idea!" Baiko laughed. "So, what’ll it be? Thorns in his gi? Worms in his tea?"

Kenshin smiled at the suggestions-he had tried them all on Hiko many years ago. Now his mind started working in earnest on the problem. It needed to be something funny but not too obvious, something outrageous but not too cruel, and above all something no one could trace back to him. His smile increased.

"A ginko berry glued to the sole of his zori-that’s what this one will do," Kenshin finally declared.

"A what? What’ll that do?" Baiko asked.

"Haven’t you ever noticed what happens if one steps on a ripe ginko berry?" Kenshin asked. "It smells like dog shit. I smelled some out in that grove of trees near where I practiced my kata this morning."

Suddenly, he was up and walking purposefully towards the stream and the grove of trees, Baiko following along. The smell reached them as they entered the grove, causing Baiko to hold his nose. Kenshin gingerly started walking through, his eyes combing the sparse grass for the berries. He suddenly stopped and held his arm out to prevent Baiko from stepping any further, and he pointed.

"Ginko berries," he said in a whisper.

He carefully picked one up by the stem and wrapped it in a large leaf. Then, as they passed by a small pine tree, he broke off a large twig that was oozing sap. Thus armed, he and Baiko returned to the campsite to wait for an opportune moment.

They didn’t have to wait long. Not ten minutes after they got back, Orinosuke and his father and brother went to the wagon to get ready to practice their swordfight. The men grabbed their prop swords, slipped off their zoris to put on leather costume boots, then went to find a clear space to practice. Kenshin now scanned the campsite. Noriko was in her tent with Ikuko and Nomi, who was taking a nap. Mei had her two boys with her at the stream to do laundry. Mayako was in her tent with her two sons, who were practicing their calligraphy. There was no one around to be a witness. Now Kenshin moved with the stealth of a cat towards the wagon and quickly grabbed one of Orinosuke’s zori. He zipped around to the far side of the wagon, where he would be hidden, and took the pine twig and rubbed its sap on the zori’s sole; the ginko berry stuck to it perfectly. Then he replaced the zori and returned to the far side of the campsite. Finally, he grabbed his ripped brown gi and his mending supplies and sat once again against the trunk of a tree, and waited.

The men practiced for nearly an hour before returning to the wagon, but that was okay-Kenshin had long experience at being patient. They put away their swords and took off their boots, chatting all the while. Then they put on their zori and walked off. It only took a few steps before Orinosuke stopped and sniffed. He took another two steps and sniffed again. Then he bent down to look at the soles of his zori. A ginko berry! A scowl slowly made its way over his face as the realization set in-someone had played a trick on him.

"Bunjiro! Get out here!" he yelled angrily at his oldest son. When the boy stuck his head out from the tent, Orinosuke yelled, "You put this ginko berry on my zori, didn’t you! I’ll tan your hide for this!"

Mayako strode out of the tent at that and said, "What are you talking about? Both boys have been with me for the past hour practicing calligraphy!"

Orinosuke whipped around and was about to yell for Ryosuke’s boys but saw they were down at the stream with their mother. He looked over at Baiko, who shrugged his shoulders in ignorance. As for the rurouni, he seemed to be engrossed in mending his gi. Orinosuke glared at Daisuke and Ryosuke, who were now laughing hysterically at the whole situation. Orinosuke growled out a roar, then ripped the zori off his feet and put the costume boots back on before stamping off to the stream to get rid of the offending mess. As soon as he was out of earshot, Baiko and Kenshin joined in the laughter. Ryosuke walked over and said, "Good job, rurouni!"

It was the strangest thing to Kenshin, to hear his own laughter. It took several minutes to bring it under control, but when he did, he felt like a different person. Everything seemed somehow lighter, brighter-the air, the people, himself. It suddenly dawned on him that he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard and so freely. In fact, he was quite sure he hadn’t done so since he left Hiko so many years ago. He felt like he was basking in some kind of new, warm glow, and it felt good.