Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Journey ❯ Chapter One: Introspection ( Chapter 1 )

CHAPTER ONE:Introspection

 

Ever since I was a little girl, the first day of spring never ceased to amaze me. I loved how the resplendent whiteness of winter gave way to the colorful burst of spring, with its array of blooming flowers, fresh green grass, and warm sunshine. Spring was a time for new beginnings and new hopes, as the old ones used to say. It was a time when possibilities seemed endless.

 

I ended my musings with a lungful of the crisp morning air, stretching my arms above my head as far as they can go, and grunting a bit as I did. I've always loved the feeling of limbering up my body.

 

With a wide yawn, I shuffled toward my window and pushed it open. Resting my arms against the windowsill, I glanced up to see a bird perch on one of the branches just outside my window. I allowed a small grin when the bird started singing.

 

“Good morning,” I greeted the bird softly. He looked down at me with an inquisitive tilt to his head. A rather handsome creature, the bird had intelligent-looking dark eyes and glossy nut-brown feathers. “It's a beautiful day, ne?” I continued, as if the bird understood me.

 

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a loud rapping at my door shattered the tranquility of the scene. The bird, hearing the commotion, gave a startled twitter and flew away.

 

“Oi, get up! Time for my lesson!”

 

It had to be the brat. Mou! Here I am, enjoying a bit of solitude and he had to ruin it.

 

I growled and stalked to the door, snapping it open with a resounding slap. Yahiko stood there, glowering at me. I glared back in return.

 

“You do know that you have a gift for pissing off people first thing in the morning, don't you, Yahiko-chan?” I ground out through gritted teeth.

 

He bristled at the `-chan' bit, as I knew he would. “Don't call me that!” he shot back. “Besides, anyone who sees your haggy face first thing in the morning'd be pissed off too!”

 

My blood pressure must've jumped about a hundred points. I swear the kid bugs the heck out of me! Would it be too much to ask for some respect from him?

 

“Well, come on, hurry up!” Yahiko demanded.

 

Apparently so.

 

You want a lesson so badly, eh, Yahiko? Well, I'll give you a lesson you won't be forgetting anytime soon. I'll work you so hard you'll wish you hadn't asked for it. I will so make sure you suffer until you beg for mercy! And even when you've begged for mercy I'll make you suffer even more!

 

With these nasty thoughts in mind I shrugged off my yukata and stalked to my closet. The brat ticked me off so much that my movements were stiff and angry as I changed into my new training clothes, a blue gi and black hakama. Simmering with exasperation, I gathered my hair into its usual high ponytail. I grabbed my bokken from the corner of my room and stomped to the door, but not without catching my reflection on the mirror sitting on my table. I was the picture of fury; a red-faced, scowling, blazing-eyed person stared back at me.

 

I felt my shoulders sag and my face relax into a resigned expression. Kaoru, you hotheaded tomboy, can you ever not lose your temper when dealing with that brat? You know he'll run off with that foul mouth of his—why can't you just ignore it? You're a walking time bomb! And look at you, parading around wearing men's clothes. You look and act like a man! Toxic cooking, nasty temper, undomesticated ways—face it, that's why Yahiko keeps calling you 'hag' and Kenshin wary of you. You'll never measure up to their standards. You will forever be Raccoon-girl of the vile cuisine and explosive temper, a snide voice in my head scolded, sounding strangely like Megumi. My hand tightened on my bokken's handle as I realized how right the voice was.

 

I snapped out of my gloomy thoughts when the shoji door slid open to reveal an irritated Yahiko. “Oi—” he stopped short when he saw my subdued face. “What's the matter?”

 

“Nothing,” I muttered. “Let's go.”

 

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Thankfully, Yahiko didn't bother asking me what was wrong, because if he did, I'll just…truthfully, I don't know. Still though, would it be too much for him to ask what had upset me? If he didn't, then that would mean he had the sensitivity of a rock.

 

Oh no, wait…he already does. Why did I even bother asking?

 

Anyway, I stood at my usual place, supervising Yahiko as he did his usual hundred swings. Honestly though, I wasn't really watching the brat. I might be there in body, looking every bit like the impassive sensei, but I was really a million miles away.

 

“One!” Swish. “Two!” Swish.

 

Why can't I be feminine? I try by dressing up in pretty kimonos improvising since I couldn't bloody well afford the ones being sold at stores, cooking-though I always end up cooking one disaster after another, doing the chores…how come I always end up getting branded as the female browbeater, a tomboy?

 

“Fifty-one! Sixty-nine! Eighty-eight! One hundred!”

 

My temper gets the better of me, that's what. Added to that was training I had in handling the sword—though I never actually handled a real one. That's enough to bring my femininity points down. I'm also prone to using my skills whenever my temper flares up, Kenshin being the unfortunate usual target. Ha. So much for being the wielder of the Sword that Protects.

 

“I'm done with the swings.”

 

And another thing, why is it that I always, always end up being the damsel in distress? Just look at that whole Enishi fiasco—it has D.I.D. written all over it! Which is ironic, considering how people have this unflattering perception of me being a tomboy that can bash bad guys' heads in with my trusty bokken.

 

“Hey! Earth to dogface, hello!”

 

Is that what I am? A weak and unfeminine female?

 

“Yaaah!!!”

 

I snapped out of my musings to see the bokken arcing toward my head. I reacted through pure instinct, sidestepping out of the way with a swat meant to block it. Yahiko pitched forward slightly from the impetus of his strike—from the way he did, it seemed he came at me at full force!

 

“What the heck did you just do, you idiot?! Are you trying to kill me?!” I screeched. Instead of replying, the brat rested his bokken on his shoulder and grinned cockily.

 

“You were spacing out. You ain't gonna be much of a challenge if you keep doing that,” he explained, smirking.

 

“Yeah, well, I'm gonna make you eat those words, Yahiko-chan,” I growled, my infamous temper flaring up as I pointed my bokken at him as a challenge.

 

“Feh! I'd like to see you try,” Yahiko scoffed as we both slid into defensive stances.

 

I took a deep breath and told myself that now is not the time to mope about my shortcomings. Come on, Kamiya, I told myself. Focus! Kick that brat's ass! That ought to shut him up.

 

I narrowed my eyes as I debated whether to attack or wait for Yahiko to attack. I cast a calculating eye over my opponent. It was impossible to tell what he was going to do judging from his stance. His face was a mask of concentration, betraying nothing. And then—

 

Everything happened so fast. Yahiko attacked a split second later, coming at me with a straight thrust. I blocked it successfully, and the next couple of seconds were a flurry of quick blows and parries. At one point, our wooden blades locked. Yahiko and I faced each other off, our faces inches from each other as we breathed heavily.

 

“Had enough?” I muttered.

 

“You wish,” he shot back. My ears were filled with the sound of our wooden swords grating against each other and our grunts of exertion, both of us unwilling to give way.

 

Summoning some deep reserve of strength, I heaved Yahiko off with a shout, causing him backpedal.

 

“Men!” Yahiko blocked frantically.

 

“Do!” I was relentless in my onslaught.

 

“Kote!” The bokken flew from Yahiko's grasp. He gaped in disbelief from the floor as I pointed the end of my bokken at his throat.

 

It was over. I had won. But was I happy about it?

 

My earlier melancholy began to set in once again as the excitement of the sparring match cooled. In the background I could hear Yahiko griping about his defeat.

 

“Oi, one more—“ Yahiko broke off, looking at me curiously. “Are you okay? You don't look so good.”

 

I wiped the sweat off my brow. “Sorry, Yahiko, practice is over.” I blew out a breath, puffing out my cheeks.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“I don't know, all right!” I snapped. Yahiko looked taken aback at my sudden outburst. I sighed, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Sorry. Look, I know it's not much of an excuse, but like you said, if I'm like this, then I won't be much of a challenge, now would I? Just…just do your katas, okay?” With that I turned and started to walk out of the dojo. I ignored Yahiko's affronted sputtering and kept on, holding back the tightness in my throat that signaled the start of tears. As soon as I reached the gate, I broke out into a run, letting out the tears I held back.

 

I kept on running until I noticed I ended up at the river. I didn't know why I was crying; all I knew was the dull ache in my chest. Collapsing by the riverbank, I pulled my legs up and rested my chin on them.

 

I stared numbly at the calm surface of the water, my mind completely blank as the tears continued to fall. I didn't know which bone to pick with myself—my unfeminine ways, my frustration towards Kenshin, my horrible temper, my tendency to end up being the damsel in distress, or…my loneliness. Yes, you heard right. I am lonely.

 

You might think that with those three around—no, wait, now it's down to two since Sano's gone—to keep my hands full, I wouldn't be lonely. Well I am, in a manner of speaking. Let me explain.

 

I lost my mother when I was around eight years old. All I can remember was the jasmine scent I smelled on her whenever she held me, soft hands that touched my face gently, and that calm, sweet smile that seemed to make things right to the world. She was the only one I could turn to since my father made it no secret that he wanted a son instead.

 

Having to hear my father say that I wasn't wanted had hurt. What made it worse was when my mother died; I ended up having to practically raise myself because my father devoted himself even more to the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. He never remarried, so he never had the chance to father a son to be his heir, leaving me instead. And because he was also a military official, he had no choice but to teach me the family art so that I could teach in his place whenever he was away. He never really paid much attention to me—the only thing in common between us was the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. Since the family art dominated my life, I never had the chance to properly learn womanly graces such as cooking and sewing. I had taught myself, which was probably why I was so bad at cooking—aside from that, my father wasn't really a fussy eater. He had never said a word about my atrocious cooking skills, leaving me with even less opportunity to improve.

 

Even though my relationship with my father had been distant, he and the family art had been my world. I had thrown myself to the way of the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu wholeheartedly, thinking that it would help me gain my father's respect. But then I'll never know—he was killed during the Seinan War when his opponent managed to push him off a cliff. So much for the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, the Sword that Protects.

 

It didn't even protect him.

 

So I was left to protect myself. Living in an empty compound amid the maddening silence drove me to deep depression. I had lost the only one I could call family—I have never felt the meaning of the word `alone' so keenly. Luckily Tae was there to keep my sanity. Kami bless her, because I probably would have starved myself to death since I couldn't even eat my own cooking. Slowly, I regained my spirit and the will to drag myself out of depression.

 

Little did I know that soon after, a certain redheaded swordsman would change my life.

 

Kenshin came into my life unexpectedly. I don't think I need to recount how we met, ne? But still…up to now I don't know why I had accepted him into my life so easily. Was it his eyes, shining with kindness and his aura of trustworthiness? Or was it because I needed someone in my life so badly that I took in the first stranger that I saw? No matter, I had thought to myself then, I know what I'm doing. It felt so right somehow, even though I was chastising myself for being too trusting. Pretty soon I found my hands full when a bratty young pickpocket and a freeloading ex-gangster decided to join the mix. The adventures we've shared brought us closer together, especially after the Enishi episode.

 

Didn't I just say earlier that I was feeling lonely? When Kenshin came into my life, the loneliness went away. Each day was a day to look forward to because I know that he'll always be there. Yet there was a lingering doubt that Kenshin would leave—he was a wanderer, after all.

 

Despite my misgivings, Kenshin stayed. But now that Sano's gone, the anxiety at the prospect of being alone came back in full force; doubts assailed my convictions. When Yahiko grows up into a young man, he'll go away—he can't stay with me forever even if I wanted to, but I'd rather die first than admit that aloud to him. And when he does leave, I'll watch him close the gate, wave at him with a smile on my face, without him ever knowing how much it hurts. Yes, he may be a brat now, but he's the closest thing I have to a younger brother. I've always wanted a sibling.

 

As for Kenshin…how do I put this? If he leaves, I'll just…die. I'll wither away because he's my world now. I don't think I can stand to be alone again. One word of rejection from him, no matter how gentle he is in telling me, will break me. I know my heart broke like it never did before when he turned his back on me as he left for Kyoto to face Shishio. Luckily he came back to me, and my broken heart mended with seeing and being with him.

 

It's ironic, really…I've always viewed myself as strong before Kenshin came into my life. I was able to face the new day with a smile, to run the dojo by myself when my father died, hadn't I? How come just the notion of Kenshin's rejection is enough to drive me to misery? It's not fair; it's not fair how he's able to melt me with nothing more than his smile, his eyes.

 

He always refers to himself as sessha—this unworthy one. What is it with that `sessha' complex of his? He had saved Japan from an evil, bandaged megalomaniac and had touched many lives with his kindness and wisdom. He had already come to terms with his past. Shouldn't it be time for him to wake up and seize the day, mainly by uttering the words I've wanted so badly to hear from him? I know how he feels for me. Even though I'm a `manly tomboy of a girl,' as Yahiko puts it, I am still a woman. Call it intuition, which can be a gift and a curse at the same time. It's a gift because it helped me pick up on Kenshin's feelings, and a curse because he wouldn't do anything about it since he sees himself as `this unworthy one.'

 

Kenshin, you idiot! Can't you see that it's up to me to decide whether you're worthy of me or not?

 

But I could understand his hesitation. I always end up being the target of Kenshin's deranged enemies, and I heard how seriously depressed he had been when he thought Enishi had killed me. I'd probably hesitate as well if our situations were reversed. But if I were strong enough to face opponents of Kenshin's caliber and defeat them, then maybe Kenshin would be able to tell me how he really felt about me since he wouldn't have to worry about my safety.

 

Sadly though, my skills are nowhere near his. If I were to face someone like, say, Jin'eh, in a swordfight, I'm dead.

 

How can I wield The Sword that Protects when I can't even protect myself? Where does this leave me?

 

At this I felt my hands curl around a small pebble. I gripped it tightly, my pent-up frustration building up into an urge to throw the pebble as hard as I could. And I did. I wound up and flung the pebble with all my strength, releasing it with a cry. The anger I felt slowly melted away as the water rippled.

 

I sighed and walked toward a nearby cherry tree, leaning against it and flopping down to sit underneath. Maybe I am destined to be lonely. Maybe some people, no matter how good they are, will never know the feeling of being loved. Kenshin will never acknowledge his feelings for me because he is afraid of losing me.

 

And I'm scared too—scared of his rejection if I tell him how I feel. And how does this add up? We'll both be miserable for the rest of our lives, always dancing around our feelings for each other, but never coming close enough to admit what we truly felt because I'm just not strong enough to be with him or to accept the consequences a possible rejection from him.

 

“No!” I shouted. “I won't…I've got to tell him. And if he…he…” I couldn't bring myself to say the words `rejects me' “…I can handle it. I will handle it,” I said, my voice tapering into a determined but unconvincing whisper.

 

I sniffled back the last of my tears. I felt a little better after letting my frustrations out with a good cry.

 

I sat there for a while to calm down. And when I did, I got up and made my way slowly back home.

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

 

I used a couple of kendo terminology here during the fight between Kaoru and Yahiko. Men is the face mask, do is the chest protector, and kote are the padded gloves. So, Kaoru struck Yahiko's face mask, chest protector, and padded gloves, which made him lose his grip, and ultimately lose the fight. Admittedly, I only got this information from the internet, and having no experience at all about kendo, I could only assume that the information I got and had interpreted was right. If there are any discrepancies with my description, please don't hesitate to inform me and I will make the necessary corrections. Thank you!