Sorry again for the extremely long wait, (Four months, maybe…?) But I do promise I haven’t given up on this story. This chapter might be a bit shorter than my other chapters, but I thought that where I ended was a good place to stop. It’s also mostly narrative, which I always have trouble with, so sorry if this chapter seems a bit boring, but I promise the climax for this story arc is coming soon! Anyway, go ahead and read!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Rurouni Kenshin, so don’t sue me, as I have no money.

Hiko woke up with the sun, just as he always did every morning, but decided to lie down for a few more minutes, relishing his last few moments in bed before he would have to get up and do chores. After finishing that, he’d have to head back to town to purchase Kenshin some new clothes, all the while keeping an eye out for the samurai pest who insisted on getting revenge. Hiko sighed deeply. It was true. Ryozo had a right to be angry with him after what had happened, and so Hiko had given the man a chance to fight him years ago, knowing full well what the outcome of the battle would be. The fact was that while Hiko was the master of Mitsurugi Ryu, Ryozo was not. Because of this, the man lost terribly, and after going away to train for a few more years, came back to duel again. The second time had been no better, and now he was going for a third try, and his stubbornness was really starting to piss Hiko off. He had an apprentice to train now, and therefore had no time to waste engaging in unnecessary death matches. It had to be just his luck that Ryozo had decided to show up only two days after he’d taken in Kenshin as his apprentice.

Speaking of which, it was about time the little baka woke up. Just because he couldn’t do any physical labor—for fear of opening up the healing wounds on his back—didn’t mean he was going to let the kid just lie around and stare at the ceiling all day. He would probably have the child cook breakfast while he went out to fetch some firewood to heat up the bath. Although spring was almost over and summer quickly approaching, the nights could still get chilly, and Hiko had no intention of taking a cold bath anytime soon.

With that thought in mind, the Mitsurugi master stood up and folded his futon, tucking it away in a corner of the hut, the kneeled down next to where Kenshin was sleeping. Just as he was about to shake the child awake, he stopped himself and withdrew his hand, sighing softly as he finally got a chance to observe the sleeping child. His cheeks still looked slightly wet and his eyelids puffy, for he’d probably been crying silently while Hiko had been asleep. He’d practically buried himself under the blanket and was curled into a tight ball, only his face visible. He mumbled something incoherent and shifted slightly under the blanket, his breathing deep and slow. He looked completely exhausted to tell the truth, and it wasn’t like Hiko could blame him, not after his long day of training and his break down the night before. It would be cruel to wake the boy up now, especially since it looked like he really needed the rest. However, that meant that Hiko would have to cook his own breakfast today. Hiko frowned at that thought, but decided that it would probably be for the best. After all, he’d never tried Kenshin’s cooking before, and he wasn’t exactly in a risk-taking mood at the moment.

First things first though, he had to gather firewood from the forest to heat up the bath, for he was planning to take one before doing anything else. He’d forgotten, or rather had been to tired to take one last night—he blamed the little red head sleeping on his futon for that—and there was absolutely no way he was going to wait any longer. After all, he had always prided himself on maintaining good hygiene. He just hoped the kid wouldn’t wake up while he was gone and think he’d abandoned him or something. He wouldn’t put it past Kenshin to come to such a conclusion.

Shaking his head, he stood up with a sigh and grabbed his cloak as well as his katana, then headed outside. Two birds flitted past him as he stepped into the clearing and breathed in the fresh morning air, taking a moment to appreciate the nature that surrounded him. He had to admit; he’d chosen the perfect place to live. There was not another soul for miles around, and since there was nothing of particular interest on his mountain, travelers didn’t venture too far from the village below. He’d hoped that the remoteness would keep him from having to interact with the complete idiots of whom ninety-nine percent of the world was made up of, and it had worked for a while. But now it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to remain a recluse, he was always dragged back out and forced to deal with other people’s problems. (He now considered Ryozo’s infatuation with revenge Ryozo’s problem, not his, since he refused to fight the man.) He was sure that when he went back to town in the afternoon the police would cause him trouble, and as tempting as the thought was to send Kenshin to buy his own clothes, he knew the baka would only get hopelessly lost. It was just as well, for he wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever, and there was always the chance that he wouldn’t even run into any of the officers while in town. Hiko smirked. Perhaps today wouldn’t be such a bad day after all. Grabbing the ax that was stuck in a tree stump next to the cabin, he headed out of the clearing and into the forest.

“Perfect.” Ryozo muttered as he looked upon the splintered remains of what had once been a beautiful pine tree. He slowly sheathed his katana and smirked with satisfaction at his skill. If this move alone was powerful enough to reduce a mighty pine tree to a mass of broken wood and needles, he could only imagine the effect it would have on an actual human being. He relished the idea, hoping that he would be able to witness its effect in the very near future. Preferably on a certain Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth. Just the thought of being able to finally finish the arrogant bastard made him feel a sense of euphoria that increased his already strong anticipation for the battle.

He wanted so badly to defeat Hiko, for all the hell that the man had put him through—from humiliating him, to taking away the only man who had ever seen any worth in him. Ryozo clenched his teeth at that thought, but decided that now was not the time to let his anger get the best of him, for he wanted to keep a cool head and remain 100 percent alert when it came time for the battle. If he let his emotions get the best of him, his skills would slip and his attacks would become sporadic—he had learned this about himself from his previous battles with the master swordsman—and he would not repeat that same mistake a third time.

It had been three years since his last defeat, and during that time, he had spent hours training not only his body, but also his mind. Although not perfect, he’d been able to build a mask for himself: calm, cool, and indifferent. He had let his anger slip earlier when he had confronted Hiko the day before, but was determined not to let it happen again. The man Hiko knew from years ago was now gone. Or rather, simply hidden behind the cold and heartless exterior of what was really a broken, defeated man with no real purpose in life but to get revenge and prove the worth of his existence. Although Ryozo refused admit to himself that defeat was possibly, if not completely inevitable, within the deep corners of his consciousness, he was afraid of failure. He was afraid to admit that perhaps all of the years of training had really just been a fruitless effort, that he was in actuality extremely jealous of Hiko and always had been, and that he was hiding his reasons for his contempt and hate for the man behind the concept of revenge. Revenge would always be a probable reason for hating a person, a reason that most people understood, if not encouraged in some cases. But for jealousy…that was considered shallow and dishonorable, and no master would agree to train a student who wanted to kill for that reason.

No. Ryozo stopped himself. He did want revenge for what had happened. It had been the final straw in his lifetime of being belittled and being constantly outdone by Hiko. It didn’t matter if Hiko wanted to fight or not, because Ryozo would make him, one way or another. He’d thought about the situation all night, and as much as he tried to avoid it, the same idea he’d thought of when he’d seen Hiko’s new apprentice kept creeping its way back into his mind. It was precise, efficient, and would be easy to carry out. The problem was, however, that he might have to compromise his morals in order to do it. Ryozo sighed and lay down in the grass with his katana at his side, his thoughts straying to his childhood, his training…the incident. His brows furrowed as memories flashed through his mind. He thought of what he was planning to do in the light of them, and shook his head. Nothing changed his plan.

Of course it isn’t morally wrong. If this were the only way to get Hiko to fight me, and therefore free the world of another murderer like him, wouldn’t it be considered immoral to do otherwise? Yes…yes, it would be! Ryozo sat up in the grass, becoming excited at his newly found logical explanation. And I must do everything in my power to end him. That is my moral duty. Ryozo stood up and picked up his katana, slipping it into the knot in his hakama, fully convinced of his own twisted ideology. He headed towards his destination, his cool mask once again set in place, but he couldn’t help but feel it…a tiny part of his subconscious, telling him that he might just be wrong.

It was about an hour after chopping wood that Hiko began to sense that something was amiss. He put down his ax and extended his senses, searching for any sign of danger. Then he felt it: A flicker of ki. He extended his senses even further to probe for the mysterious ki again, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The intruding swordsman was obviously trying to mask it, but had let his guard down for a brief moment, and for Hiko, that was all he needed to sense a man’s presence.

Now what swordsman has the gall to trespass on my— Hiko’s eyes suddenly widened with realization, and he mentally slapped himself for his stupidity. That damn fool. Unless he’s come back to apologize, I’m going to grab him by the arms and fling him all the way to Kyoto! Hiko felt for the ki again, but felt nothing. Looks like that baka got some training in masking his ki…no matter. I’m not masking mine at all, and considering how intimidating mine is, it should be unmistakable. All I have to do is wait for him to find me so I can kick him off my mountain personally.

Hiko waited impatiently with a scowl on his face, not happy at all with how his day was going so far. Then it just got a whole lot worse. He felt another small flicker of ki, but it didn’t seem as if it were headed toward him at all—rather, it was headed in the opposite direction. The cabin.

Hiko muttered obscenities as he quickly picked up the ax and ran full speed towards the cabin where his pupil lay sleeping, completely unaware of the approaching danger.

I swear, if he lays one hand on my apprentice I’ll kill him! After about five more minutes of sprinting, Hiko finally reached the familiar clearing in which he’d built his cabin. In the blink of an eye he’d spanned the space between the edge of the woods and the cabin, and slid open the door with more force than was necessary, causing the door to break—he didn’t care. He stumbled into the cabin and ran over to where Kenshin’s futon was, freezing in his spot on the floor.

The futon was empty.

Hiko cursed loudly and kicked the desk next to him in anger, cursing himself for leaving Kenshin alone, for not arriving sooner, hell, for not even thinking that Ryozo would do something as desperate as this! Hiko looked down at the futon again, noticing that there was a note. Snatching the paper up from the bed, Hiko knew that he didn’t need to read the letter to know what it said.

Meet me at the waterfall at dusk. We will fight there. Until then, I’ll be keeping your apprentice.

Ryozo Fukuyama

Hiko crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it on the floor. Well, you’ve gotten your wish. You’ve officially managed to piss me off. You wanted a battle.

You’ll have it.

Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I promise that my next update will not take four months. XD Please review!