Untitled
a 1-hour 'fic by Dot
---
The rhythmic clicking of the train going over the tracks make it
hard to stay awake, but the growing excitement make it hard to fall asleep.
Kyoto...I'd always dreamed--but never quite dared to hope--I could
come back someday. Seeing the familiar buildings loom closer and closer set
my hard racing and my palms sweating. Unconsciously, my hand tightens into
a fist. It still won't completely close all the way most of the time, and
occasionally it's a bit slow to respond to my commands, but a year ago I
couldn't even feel anything below the cut in my arm.
Everybody said it was a miracle when I was first able to barely even
wiggle my fingers. But that wasn't good enough for me. I wanted to be able
to hold a shinai in my hands again, and trained like a demon to accomplish
my goal. Everybody wanted me to take it easy, especially my doctor, but I
wouldn't listen. I refused to. They thought I was going mad, which I might
have been. The desire to succeed consumed me, fueled by my determination
and my anger towards Raijuuta. I would exercise that hand until I collapsed
from exhaustion, took a short break, and did it again.
To say that regaining use of my hand was hell would be a severe
understatement. Progress was always invariably glacial, even on good days,
and sometimes stopped altogether. There were days when I would go to bed
and just cry, spilling my despair and my frustration all over my pillow.
There were also days I just couldn't see the end to this torture, of
ordering my arm to move and watching it not even twitch. But whenever I
seriously contemplated giving up, all I had to do was remember what Yahiko
had said to me when I was leaving for Germany.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I could grip with passably
good strength. I still had wanted to continue with the therapy, but the
doctor refused to treat me further, saying that he didn't want to be
responsible if I did something rash and rendered myself permanently
disabled. Father probably would have gone looking for another doctor, but I
began growing impatient for going back to Japan. I wanted to return to that
Dojo again, if not to beat Yahiko--because I knew that wasn't even remotely
possible--at least to see the look on his face when I charge at him with my
weapon in both hands. That would be worth everything.
The train pulls into the station at long last. Shinai in hand, I
jump out of my seat before it's really safe enough to, and nearly fall
over. Father steadies me with a strong hand. When the train comes to a
complete stop, I twist out of his arms and was about to take off when his
voice yanks me back into reality.
"Wouldn't it be faster if you took the carriage with me?"
***
"Myoujin Yahiko!" I bellow, standing in front of the gate of the
Dojo. "I, Tsukayama Yutarou challenge you to a duel!"
"Yutarou!" I recognize the delighted cry as belonging to Kaoru. "Is
that really you?"
I nearly do a double take as Kaoru rushes out with a little boy in
her arms. It doesn't take long for me to realize who the father of said boy
is; he looks almost exactly like a mini version of Kenshin. I finally
remember to bow. "Kaoru-san. Nice to see you again."
Kaoru catches me in a tight hug, and the boy in her arms squeal as
he is squeezed along with me. "Yahiko will be so glad when he comes in!"
I make no efforts to conceal my disappointment. "You mean he's not
here?"
"No, but he should be back any moment now." Kaoru turns her head
back towards the house and shouts as loud as she can. "Kenshin, you were
right! It _is_ Yutarou! He came back, just as he promised!"
Kenshin walks out from the side of the house, and I almost don't
recognize him. His hair is cut short, and he is wearing a dark blue hakama
quite different from the gi I had seen him in a year ago. But the cross
scar on his left cheek is still there, probably branding him for life. I
never found out how he got it, but from what I remember of what everyone
said about him, he used to be some sort of superhuman killer.
Kenshin's face lights up as he sees me, and it's hard for me to
believe those things. "Yutarou-kun!"
We shake, and I notice with pleasant surprise that Kenshin offered
me his right hand. "Kenshin-san. Another pleasure."
"Why don't you come in?" He offers.
I shake my head. "I want to wait for Yahiko out here."
Kenshin smiles, understanding. "All right. Then we'll wait with
you."
***
I could hardly believe my eyes. Yahiko had changed completely. Not
only was he taller and more muscular--moreso than me in both aspects, I was
a bit annoyed to see--he exuded a kind of confidence that wasn't just
cockiness. From the expression on his face, I can tell that he's equally
as shocked to see me, and that gives me enough of my composure back to grin
at him.
"So, finally decided to show up. I was starting to think that you
saw my carriage and was scared to come in."
He flinches a little, but grins as well. "Not in the least."
Kaoru smiles brightly at both of us. "Would you like to come in
now?"
"Of course."
***
We stand across from each other, neither moving an inch. As soon as
Yahiko recovered from the shock of seeing me hold my shinai--which, I'm
sorry to say, was too soon--we got down to business. Or, rather, I
suspect that he's just waiting for me to attack, because I'm pretty sure
that he had assessed my strengths and weaknesses the moment that he laid
eyes on me. I, on the other hand, still hadn't found a single spot where I
could even touch him.
'Forget this', I think, tightening my grip. 'I came back to fight
him, not stand here and stare.' With a yell, I charge him.
It's almost needless to say that he parries easily. I try again,
yelling louder this time, and for a second time the resulting sound is of
wood against wood. Anger building, I attack over and over, with similar
outcomes. Finally, I retreat and lower my arms.
"You win," I concede reluctantly. I knew this would happen, and
even prepared myself for this moment, but another part of me is seething in
rage. My eyes begin to burn, and I blink hard to keep the tears from coming
out. Damn it, I won't cry. I won't!
Kaoru walks forward and lays a hand on my shoulder. "That was
amazing, Yutarou."
The words spill out before I can stop them. "Amazing my ass."
Fortunately, what's left of my common sense shuts me up before I go
completely ballistic.
"Really, Yutarou," Kenshin says, walking foward as well. "You've
gone a long way to get here."
'He has no idea,' I think bitterly.
Yahiko comes up to me next, and it takes everything I have to keep
from screaming. 'Don't pity me', I want to beg him. 'Hit me, make fun of
me, laugh at me--anything! Just don't pity me! I don't need your pity, and
I don't want it!'
He takes my right hand and clasps it, hard. "Good to see you back,
Yutarou."
And he turns and walks out.
My shinai drops to the ground with a loud clutter shortly after
that, and I can no longer hold back.
"I think it's time we headed home," I manage to hear my father say
through the tears. (TIME UP) But it takes a while before I can even budge
from the spot, and guided by his strong arms, I make my way towards the door.
Kaoru picks up my shinai from the ground and catches up to me
before I go. "You dropped this."
I can only nod, so Father thanks her for me.
"No problem," she answers, smiling. "I expect to see you in class
first thing tomorrow morning!"
Then the carriage door closes, and Father gives the order to drive
away.
---
Wrote this for the 1 hour challenge on the FFIRC. Unfortunately, I ran out
of time before I could complete it (as indicated by the "TIME UP"), but I
didn't want to leave the story there.
I really liked Yutarou. I wished Watsuki brought him back at the end, if
only for an appearance. (And Soujirou, too. *^_^*)
---
-"Dot"
Dot-Chan on #fanfic at bachman.newberry.edu (FFIRC Chatroom)
Proud member of CAPOW (Creative Anime Prose Original Writing)
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