Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ A Giant and the Lion Cub ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

I'm absolutely amazed at how people can eat with chopsticks…it's an art form in its own and I'd love to learn how it's done, but I can barely eat with a fork, so I know I'd be hopeless….I came to this conclusion while eating some fried rice the other day (most of it ended up in my lap)…this has nothing to do with my story, I just thought I'd share that with everyone who reads this….Anyhoo, Kenji's on an outing with his new friends and parents…it think that's all I'll say for now….until the end of the chapter…

Chapter 6

Heads turned and people whispered as the group of proceeded down the streets of Kyoto, dressed in their finest clothing, laughing and talking amongst one another. Each person was exquisite in his or her own right, beautiful and alluring, meant to be noticed from the moment of birth. It couldn't be helped to stop and stare as a magnificent looking man with beautiful hair the color of fire and gem like violet eyes strolled down the dusty street with his porcelain skinned, raven haired beauty and equally striking son. Behind them a tall man with the eyes as blue as the ocean, his features sharp and rugged walked in silence with a small girl, as frail and delicate as a bird, her hair so black it held a bluish tint as the sun glinted off of the silky tresses that fell free around her face. They were all oblivious to their admirers, inattentive to the looks of wistfulness and envy.

Several people stopped the companions to admire the flame haired little Kenji, each one commenting on the remarkable resemblance between father and son, gushing about his unmatched cuteness. Kaoru accepted the compliments graciously, smiling with pride at her son, while Kenji just endured the attention. After some time, he asked to be passed to his father, knowing people were less likely to poke at him so if he was held tightly in the man's arms. His father, though painfully polite and accepting of the flattery his son attracted, held a dangerous aire about him. His protectiveness, though held in check, was clearly visible behind the gentle façade of the violet eyes.

Kenshin laughed easily among his friends, but kept his senses attuned to the other people around him. It was mostly an instinctual reaction, the streets he now walked were the ones where he spilled so much blood, there were bound to be people who recognized him for what he once was. It was always a nagging thought in his mind, reminding him of all the time's enemies targeted his most beloved friends in an attempt to hurt him somehow. Back in Tokyo, he rarely thought of it, but here, in these streets, it rose its ugly head once again.

Downtown Kyoto was a sea of people, making it difficult to move forward. Kenji clutched his father's dark blue gi, his eyes wide with fascination. His small world never extended beyond the market of Tokyo, his knowledge of other people extremely limited. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine so many people in the world. The idea was intriguing, but frightening for a boy so small.

The streets were lined with booths full of trinkets, toys, clothing, nearly anything imaginable to the human mind. Beneath vibrantly colored banners and awnings, merchants called out their wares with melodious voices while prospective buyers bartered and prowled. The air literally hummed with excitement.

Kenshin and Yahiko paused to watch a juggler performing on a busy corner. He tossed brightly colored bottles of green, blue, and red into the air, catching them with ease before switching to a much more impressive task of daggers. The crowd ooo'd and ahhh'd as he expertly dodged the sharp blades, adding to the airborne weapons until he had four going all at once. Yahiko laughed and made a comment about the blades being fake, and Kenshin covered Kenji's eyes, praying the boy wouldn't get any idea's of his own when the returned home.

Karou grabbed Yahiko by the collar of gi, pulling him away from the entertainment, barely able to contain the excitement she felt as she babbled on at him, dragging him across the way. Kenshin followed, grinning as the boy struggled against his instructor's grasp, swearing at her interruption. Yahiko's protests stopped as Karou shoved him forward into another gathered cluster of people, draping an arm across her student's shoulder. "Look at this," she whispered into his ear, pointing at the roped off area where two kendo students sparred with each other.

Their movements were graceful and elegant, almost as if they were dancing to a tune only they heard. Each motion of the hand, step of the foot, or swing of the sword was executed with amazing fluidity. As the swords clattered together, the crowd cheered, relishing the entertainment, even placing bets on who would win the match.

"That's a good way to attract students," Yahiko whispered to Kaoru, who nodded quietly her eyes fixated upon the match, searching for flaws and weaknesses, while admiring the refinement of the students skills.

"That one in blue holds his sword too low," a voice rumbled in her ear playfully, "And the other one reacts with out thinking, he will lose the match." Kaoru just smiled, listening to the teasing purr in her husband's voice, but knowing he could see things that she would never be able to when it came to a sword battle. Sure enough, the young student in blue managed to catch his opponent off guard as a particularly reckless move was executed. The wooden sword came down hard across the back of the other, knocking him to the ground.

Kenji could struggled see what was going on before them, even in his father's grasp he could barely see through the crowd. The distinct sounds of sparring were not lost on his young ears and he strained to get a better look. He pulled on the sakabatou that hung at his father's side, smiling up at the man who held him in his arms. Kenshin laughed and shifted the boy to his shoulders, holding on tightly to stick like legs. "What do you see Kenji," he laughed, knowing the boy understood what was going on through the impermeable crowd.

"Hit'n Mitin-ugi Ryuu," Kenji cried, clapping his hands together and tugging at his father's hair.

Yahiko grinned and tugged at a small sandal. "Close enough kiddo," he laughed, "You'll be learning Kamiya Kasshin though!"

Kenshin smiled and nodded, knowing the boy's words rang true. He had no intention of passing on his sword style, especially to his son. He had no doubts that his Kenji would be capable of mastery of such a difficult sword technique, the boy had amazing potential when it came to cunning, speed, and patience. He was lacking in the same area his father did though, probably even more so. Kenji was incredibly small for his age, almost frail looking, and would probably never grow beyond the height of his father. Hiten Mitsurugi had already taken a toll on his own small frame, his aching bones and joints reminded him everyday. Kenji's fate would be the same if he took up the style, so it was best to allow the Hiten Mitsurugi to go untaught.

They continued their journey through the streets, only stopping when Kenji shouted in surprise, yanking his father's hair so hard the man yelped in pain. "Look it! Look it!" he shouted, his small feet pounding against his fathers chest. Everyone turned to where the boy pointed, gasping at the sight of a strange, two-humped creature chewing contently on a leaf of hay. They all approached with caution, curious of the creature's nature. Kenji giggled again, pointing at the creatures floppy humps that sat lopsided on its back.

"This looks like some sort of animal show," Kenshin said, stepping back to read the sign that adorned the entrance. "Shall we go take a look?

Inside, strange striped horses stood looking rather bored in a small pen, their rounded ears cocked back in mild irritance, while more of the strange, two humped animals chewed on nothing unparticular. The group lingered only momentarily, discovering a much more intriguing group of beasts at the far end of the large, stuffy tent. Inside a massive cage of steel and wire, two of the largest cats any of the Kenshin gumi had ever seen lay lazily on the dusty ground, tails flicking ever so slightly. The both animals were the size of a pony, a ruddy red in color, with thick tangled manes of hair around their heads.

Kenji fisted his hands into his father's hair as he stared in awe at the monstrous beasts, comparing them to the smaller counter part that had taken up residence at the dojo many years ago. The grey cat was called Sagara and well known for it's free loading ways, often stealing food from Kenshin's kitchen and causing him fits in the process. That feline was nothing but a flea on a dog's back compared to these enormous animals. "Biiiigggg kitty," Kenji whispered.

Kenshin laughed and pulled at his son's leg, "That they are, Kenji chan! I think they are called lions."

Yahiko giggled and pointed to the lion's shaggy mane, "You two could be related," he teased.

Kenji frowned at the dark haired boy, kicking a small leg out at him, not really understanding the jest, but noticing the joking tone in his voice.

*************

The afternoon wore on, all side shows and attractions were seen, booths double checked, and bellies full of festival food. The hearty lunch slowed them down, but the men trudged on behind the women folk, who decided that now was the perfect time to shop. They had checked and rechecked all the booths that interested them, finding the best deals, and were now prepared to get down to business and barter for some goods. Misao and Kaoru chattered excitedly between each other, trying to decide where to start, hovering from shop to shop.

Yahiko sighed in frustration, not afraid to voice his weariness and boredom, while Kenshin and Aoshi waited patiently, as honorable escorts should. Though their intentions were gentlemanly, weariness was beginning to show on their languid faces.

Long removed from his father's shoulders, little Kenji clasped tightly to his father's hakama with a sweaty hand. Lackluster, pale eyes, lined with dark circles stared hard at the ground with each step he took. He whimpered unhappily from time to time, but it was so soft that only he could hear his own tired protests. The late afternoon had taken a toll on all of them but Kaoru and Misao, who surprisingly seemed to have the strength of a hundred men now.

Kenji struggled to maintain his pace with the group, almost allowing his father to drag him along behind him. He could sense his father was tired and hurting somewhat, his movements were slower now, allowing Kenji to keep up with him a little easier. Something inside the boy would not allow him to whine outwardly and demand to be carried.

He glanced at his new kimono and felt a slight surge of satisfaction. It was now utterly dirty, marred with dust and grime from the day's travels. His mother scolded him during lunch for getting it so filthy, which just solidified his contempt for new clothing, but he now had nothing to fear from this green kimono. Its days of confinement upon him were finished. Not even his father's superb washing skills could remove the grit from the cloth. His thoughts drifted to his home, his real home, which he somehow knew was far away. He wished he could be there now, curled up next to the laundry basket, quietly napping while his father attended the chore.

Kenji tripped suddenly, falling into the dusty street, his sweaty grip giving up the tight hold on his father's leg. He lay there for several moments, too tired to pick himself up, almost allowing himself to cry out for someone to lift him up and carry him home. People walked all around him, their voices humming in his head like the buzzing of angry hornets. A familiar voice sounded above the crowd, urging him to his feet. He looked up into the strained and weary face of his father.

"Come on Kenji," the man said, forcing a small smile, "If you don't keep up, you'll get lost."

Kenji dropped his head back into the dirt, debating on whether or not to throw an absolute fit right there in the middle of the street. It was quite possible one of his ferocious out bursts would send himself and his father packing back to the restaurant where they stayed. He was tired, bored, highly irritated, all of which made him perfectly capable of a wondrous tempter tantrum, but the effort would require energy that he did not have anymore. He pushed himself off the road, not bothering to hide the annoyance that settled onto his features.

Kenshin said an inward prayer and turned to follow the rest of their companions, keeping his steps small so Kenji could keep up with him. Though his son was blessed with the patience of a Buddhist priest most of the time, if pushed beyond his limits, the boy was capable of unleashing a scene that would mirror the ferocity of Hell itself. Though it was clear Kenji was teetering on the line, the boy seemed to be balancing himself well for the moment. Guilt ate away at Kenshin as he continued to walk towards the booth where Misao and Kaoru stood talking to a merchant about a bolt of cloth. He wanted to scoop the boy up, take him back to their room and curl up on their futon for a lengthy nap, but he refused to leave his wife alone in this city, even with the protection of Aoshi. If anything was to happen while he was away, he'd never forgive himself. His body was protesting greatly against the day's travels, and that kept him from carrying Kenji any longer. Kenshin hoped if the boy could walk on his own for a bit longer, so his sore arms could regain some strength and he could relieve his son's weary legs once again.

Kenji drug his feet, watching the ground once again, his thoughts drifting up and away into the clouds. He wanted to go home to his home. He wanted to play with his baka uncle Sano, pull his fathers laundry from the line, harass Yahiko, and listen to auntie Megumi's stories. He missed his own room, his toys, all of the familiar sights and sounds associated with the place. He vaguely watched the swishing movement of his father's hakama a few feet in front of him, losing himself into comforting thoughts of home.

Kenshin finally made it to the booth where Misao and his wife stood arguing with the merchant. His sore feet brought him up next to Aoshi, who already held several packages in his arms. He cast the taller man a sympathetic look, noting the weariness deep within the blue eyes and furrowed brow. Yahiko was no better off, slumped against a wall, holding onto a couple nicely wrapped packages himself, his dark eyes mirroring that of a coming storm. One hand rested against his temple, warding away a fatigue-ridden headache.

There was no need for the boy to be here, Kenshin decided, moving slowly closer to where he sat. It made more sense to send him home with Kenji, and allow himself and Aoshi to escort the ladies during their shopping. "Yahiko," Kenshin started, "Why don't you take Kenji…"

Something brought him up short, a frown creasing his brow as his words dropped off unexpectedly. A strange empty feeling washed over him, like a part of him had suddenly disappeared. Slowly he turned around, looking into an ocean of people, moving like waves through the street. He trained his gaze slowly to the leg of his hakama, praying he'd see the little boy still clinging there, but the only sign of him was the dirty smudge marks of his filthy hands against white fabric.

Fear was not a new taste to Kenshin, he'd had many a drink from it over his lifetime, yet the foul bitterness that dried his mouth now had no comparison. A low, snaking chill coursed up his body, freezing his blood, and stopping his heart. Stealing itself upon his body like a stalking cat, the cold worked its way inside out, a clammy perspiration breaking out all over his body, slowly paralyzing his breathing as well as his thoughts. It was panic in it's purest form, forcing the body to shut down, immobilizing any ability to think rationally, rendering its victim utterly helpless. The only movement he was capable of was the frantic darting of his eyes, trying to penetrate the sea of people before him, seeking any visual contact as well as emotional attachment, but finding neither.

It suddenly claimed him, swallowing him up whole and the realization hit him, and from his lips he uttered a crowd-halting cry.

"KENJI!"

*********

Aoshi spun around, dropping the packages he held and reaching for the twin kodachi's that were not there. Never in his life had he heard such a sound come from the lips of a man. No battle cry or death rattle could ever parallel its intensity. It was a horrible noise, almost unhuman, and so full of terror that the hairs on his neck stood on end. He stared at the red haired samurai, barely able to believe the sound had come from him and trying to reason out what happened to force such a reaction from a normally calm and self controlled man.

He could feel the surge in Kenshin's ki, fierce and barely contained. It battered against his own soul, forcing him to step back slightly. "What's he doing?" Aoshi thought to himself, trying to calm his shaken state, "He's looking for something." The dark haired man collected his rattled nerves, and the puzzle fell into place. Aoshi found himself swallowing against a hard lump in his throat, his eyes scanning the crowd as well, "Himura chan is gone." He looked beyond the people who gathered in utter silence to watch the scene unfold, shoving a few of them aside as he dashed into the street to search himself.

Yahiko had leapt into a defensive stance as well, placing himself between the road and the women, his sword held in front of him, daring anyone to approach those he protected. Confusion marred his expression as dark eyes held the red haired samurai in his sights. "Kenshin," he yelled, "What's going on." He too could sense the ki, and it unnerved him.

"Yes, Kenshin, what happened?"

It was the voice of Kaoru that brought the man crashing back into earth, his entire world shattering around him at once. He could not turn to face her as his mind reeled, "What do I tell her? What do I do?" They were stupid questions, but his mind could not function properly. He wanted to cry, vomit, draw his sword and cut through the sea of people that stood between himself and his son, but all he could do was stand there, frozen, thinking stupid thoughts. His son was not there, nowhere near him. If the boy were close by, he would have felt him and Kenji would answer his father's cry. He could feel the howl of his other half, echoing deep inside his mind, demanding to be set free as the pain claimed him as well. Kenshin grit his teeth, tasting blood in his own mouth, trying to force the amber fire down into the depths of his soul.

"Kenshin," Kaoru asked, her voice urgent and shaken.

"I…I…I lost him," Kenshin stated, his voice wavering.

Kaoru stopped a few feet behind her husband, "You lost who?" She knew the answer, but did not want to believe it quite yet. It was obvious her son was no where to be seen, but she had to ask, hoping to hear words other than the ones she knew he'd give her. "Where is Kenji?"

"I don't know."

Kaoru grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around with amazing strength, "What do you mean you don't know? You always know where he is!" She stared into his amber tinged eyes, watching the war going on inside him, but not caring who actually won this time.

"I can't feel him here," he responded, his voice painfully quiet, barely a whisper.

"He was just here! With you! How far can a child that young go in a matter of a few minutes?" she shouted freely now, tears starting to run down her face, not realizing the how she made a decision for him with those few words.

Kenshin was quite for a long while, his eyes down cast. "A long way," he stated, his voice cold and deadly angry, "If he has help." He looked up at his wife, his face constricting at the pain in her eyes. He hated to say those words to her, but she had to know. No, she wanted him to say it, to hear the truth. Lies would do no good here.

Kaoru gazed back into the amber gaze, "I don't care what you have to do. Get him back to us!"

Misao made a move towards her friend as Kenshin reached for Kaoru, but Yahiko stopped her with his sword, shaking his head slightly.

Kenshin crushed his woman against him, holding her so tight she felt the breath start to escape her. She could feel him press his face into her hair, and the slight tremble of his body. He fought desperately to hold back the sobs that threatened him, even in this manifestation of himself. Kaoru managed to pull herself away from him, looking up into the golden eyes, which brimmed with tears of sorrow, fear, and guilt. "Bring Kenji home to us. Bring back your son," she pleaded.

Kenshin nodded, pressing his lips to her forehead, several tears slipping down his cheeks. "I promise Kaoru. I'll find him."

Aoshi pushed his way back through the crowd, shaking his head slightly. He had found nothing, no one had seen anything out of the ordinary and Kenji was still missing. He observed Kenshin quietly, motioning for Misao to come forward, "Take Karou san home with you, inform Okina what has happened, then bring me my clothes and kodachi's." The girl nodded, fighting against her own tears, "The Battousai and I will begin our search here, so hurry up." He brushed away a lone tear that ran down her cheek, but offered nothing more to her. He would not fill her with false hope that the child would be found. None of them were fools. The Battousai had many enemies.

A kindly man offered use of his carriage, Kenshin reluctantly allowed his wife to enter the cab, not liking the idea of her and Misao riding away with a stranger. Once Aoshi assured Kenshin that it would be fine, he sent Yahiko back with them to put the man at ease.

Kenshin turned to Aoshi once the women and Yahiko were on their way and fixed him with a shadowy, golden gaze. Not even the former okashira could hide the doubt and concern in his eyes, and Kenshin buckled a bit at the truth he saw behind them. The rurouni retreated to the depths, unable to bear the pain of what had occurred. His passionate counterpart emerged, holding no malice or contempt for his simpler, gentle half, barely enduring the pain of the loss himself. After several moments of silence, Kenshin spoke in a soft, yet deadly voice, "I'll tell you now," he started, his intense eyes boring into Aoshi's, forcing the man to look away, "If my son has been harmed by anyone, I will kill them."

Aoshi answered with his own cold silence. The Battousai did not need to tell him such things, he understood the minute he witnessed the rurouni's submission. Himura Kenshin would go to any lengths to retrieve his son, and if that meant drawing a sword again, so be it. It was that resolution that allowed the passionate, fiercely protective battousai to emerge in full, and left the rurouni lingering only slightly in the depths of his mind for the time being.

Uh oh, where did Kenji go? Kenshin's freaked out again, Kaoru's a basketcase, Aoshi's worried about someone (huh?)…leave it to Kenji to stir up trouble…It's really late here…sigh…the life of an insomniac….