By: Chiki Yumeshisa
Disclaimer: I don�t own Rurouni Kenshin��all original characters/ideas are mine to claim.
AN: Hi guys! Thanks for the wonderful reviews! I am so inspired and feel so special. Anyways, I wanted to let you guys know that this story is set in modern day Japan as it is what I am most familiar with. With that note, here's the next chapter!
Warnings: None. Rated PG.
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CHAPTER 2
- Mistakes -
Breakfast consisted of eggs and burnt toast. There was some evidence that bacon had been tried, but did not turn out successfully. The burnt clumps still sat in their oily grave, clinging onto the frying pan. They were still sizzling, a clear sign that the pan was still hot. It would be a hassle getting those to come off. I could already picture myself scraping at it.
I met Kenji�s eyes curiously. I raised an eyebrow in question, before sliding myself into my seat. Usually, I would be the one to cook breakfast.
He hunched his shoulders over his food. �I was hungry.� He thought to explain. �It doesn�t help when you are late waking up.�
I poked at the egg that looked like it hadn�t been cooked thoroughly enough. In all truth, I would rather have had rice and soup, but I didn�t say anything. This was certainly a change, and I didn�t want to tread dangerous grounds. I did feel a bit irked though: was a man not allowed to sleep in once in a while?
�Well, thanks.� I said dryly, finally plucking a piece of the egg into my mouth. It was all I could do not to gag at the amount of salt he had poured onto it. I wondered if he had done that purposely. With the way he was gobbling up his food, I figured he didn�t. I masked my discomfort by swallowing back the tea that was ready and made. Thank goodness he had managed to make the tea right. After swallowing, I managed to choke out, �Just let me do breakfast from here on in, okay?�
He began to butter his toast, letting out a grunt. That was probably all I would get from him.
I cleared my throat after picking up the hard as rock toast he had made. Hearing the crunch from his own toast when he bit into it, I decided it would not be worth it to break my teeth trying to tear my way through mine. �Kenji��.how�s school?�
His dark blue eyes flashed. �What�s it to you?�
I put down the piece of toast.
It was about to begin�..
�I am just asking.� I told him.
�It�s fine.� He all but snapped.
I knit my fingers together, willing myself to be patient. This was a child who seemed to stretch it to the max. I had yet to snap on him, but I didn�t want to do so with my son. �How are your grades?� I prodded.
Kenji got to his feet, the chains he wore on his pants� legs clinking as he made his way to the sink to put the dirty dishes in there. �They�re fine too.� In went the dish, and it probably would stay there until I got home later that night.
I picked up the tea again, realizing that I didn�t have much of an appetite. I took a small sip to clear my throat again. �Apparently they�re not�..I got a letter from your teacher the other day.�
He froze, his back stiffening. The back of his black t-shirt said the words �THAT�S IT� in big red lettering. A few Japanese characters were written in white around it, but from the distance, and with my eyesight, I could not read them. His hair was swept up into a ponytail that was high.
�So,� I continued, �I am going to meet with your teacher today, after work. I want you to give the letter to him. Even if you don�t, I will go anyway.�
Kenji spun around angrily. �Why don�t you just lay off me?� He cried.
I winced inwardly. �Kenji�.�
�Just get off my case!� He stormed out of the kitchen, before I could get any more words out.
�Kenji!�
He was always defensive, I guess, and I had to understand him: I was that way too. I knew we weren�t in the best relationship with each other, but recently, it had just been getting worse rather than better. I guess I had some blame to that. There was nothing to say, and I waited for a while for him to cool off.
In a few moments, he was back in the kitchen, rummaging through our refrigerator for a lunch. His backpack was slung off his shoulder carelessly, the zipper halfway open, his books threatening to fall out.
I wondered if he had finished his homework the other night. Of course, I didn�t ask. Great, was I intimidated? While his back was turned, I quickly threw out the remainders of my uneaten � in my opinion, inedible � breakfast, and went to wash the dishes. I had a few more minutes to spare before I got ready for work.
Slamming the door to the fridge shut, Kenji got up, flicking his bangs away from his face, irritated. He had let them grow unevenly, and I guess I never bothered to tell him to cut it, because my hair was even longer. Why I kept my hair long, I guess I didn�t know. Most people thought it looked strange, but I was just used to it.
My boy was almost as tall as me, which is not very tall if you think about it. I was a little over the five-foot mark, but compared to my other friends and co-workers, I was the shortest. He had a thin frame, which worried me sometimes, because I wondered if I was feeding him enough. A pale complexion and spindly arms and legs made up the rest of him.
There was just that attitude that had built, and was really hard to cope with�..as he preferred to wear what he liked, I had sent him to a high school where there were no uniforms. That, and the fact that he had been kicked out of his other schools.
At the present moment, he was downing a carton of milk, as was his habit every morning. Once done, he crumpled the box up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then, wiped that on his pants. I grimaced; there were such things as napkins for that. �So, where�s the letter?� He demanded.
�It�s in an envelope. Don�t forget���
�I won�t.� He answered. �I�m going now.�
I blinked, as he turned and made his way to the door. I followed him and watched as he slipped a worn pair of tennis shoes onto his feet, and made a mental note to myself to get him a new pair. The least I could do for him was make him look presentable. �Take care now.� I told him.
He seemed to snort at that, and pulled on his backpack after zippering it closed. Good, at least he had noticed.
I hovered there for a while, and stopped him before he could leave. �I�ll be late coming home tonight, so I�ll just bring home dinner.�
�Don�t bother.� Kenji replied, �I am not coming home tonight.�
Shaking my head, wondering if I had heard right, I asked, �What?�
�I�ll be staying over at Yahiko�s.� He said. �So don�t bother.�
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, unsure what to say. He did that often, going places without telling me. It worried me sick, but at least this time he had had the courtesy to let me know. �Oh, okay.� Was my lame response.
Kenji seemed uncertain what to say next, so he hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder more firmly and nodded slightly at me. �I�ll give the letter � see ya.�
I found myself waving a little, and stopped myself. I had to get ready.
0-0-0-0-0-0
It�s funny how people don�t seem to watch where they are going sometimes. Either that, or they just didn�t see me.
Walking down the busy streets of Tokyo was not exactly the greatest. People jostled and pushed, and some spoke too loudly for one�s interest. Noisy school girls dressed in their dark blue sailor uniforms giggled amongst themselves right in the middle of the sidewalk. Honestly, why couldn�t they get out of the way?
They seemed oblivious to the swarm around them, as they spoke of the latest news and gossip that was going around. The good old days of being young. Being na�ve and clueless�..innocence that was almost bliss, until the world crashed down around you showing you how wrong you were.
I almost got run over twice that day. I knew perfectly well that it was my turn to cross. After all, the red light had turned green and the sign for pedestrian crossing had blinked. And they had the nerve to yell at me as if I was the one at fault.
When it happened the third time, I was getting peeved. Unfortunately, I had no car, and I would not want to drive a car in the heavy traffic. Don�t get me wrong, I had a license�.but a car was too expensive for my liking. The bus fare was enough to get me to and from work safely, though hassle was always part of the bargain.
My stomach growled unhappily up at me, as I had not fed it since that morning. I had had no time to grab a bite to eat for lunch, and I hadn�t thought to bring a snack, so food was in order.
Checking to make sure that my wallet was still in the back pocket of my worn out jeans, I entered the nearest noodle house I could find. I would be damned if another car tried its luck against me.
The smell of smoke was in the air, as well as oil and bread. Not a good combination, but I couldn�t complain. I had had my fair share of cigarettes time and again.
I was about to get a small bowl of ramen noodles, when a boy shot past me, nearly knocking me over. Thankfully, I didn�t have a full bowl of hot soup in my hands or else I would have suffered from burns. I jumped back with a startled cry.
�Stop! Thief!� The owner yelled.
But the boy was already out the door, the small bell attached to it jangling crazily as it slammed shut behind him.
Not thinking twice, I ran out after him.
It was not a daily routine, running after eat-and-run punks, but my mind registered the fact that he could be caught, and situations like this could be prevented. Thus, I chased him down the street, nimbly slipping between people�s bodies, as the boy crashed through them, making quite a scene.
He was fast, I had to admit, but I was faster.
I caught him by his collar, and he jerked violently at the contact of my hands actually managing to grab hold of him.
By that time, I was panting. Despite my short legs, I was prideful of the fact that I was fast.
The boy had light eyes and a head full of sand brown hair. He was wearing a uniform, indicating that he had just come from school. The first four buttons of his white collared shirt were open.
His voice was angry. �Let me go!� He cried.
I gathered my breath. �Sorry kid,� I said, my voice sounding a bit raspy. �I can�t do that.�
He struggled against me, but could do nothing. An elementary school boy, and a quite feisty one at that. Were kids getting worse and worse as years went by? His face was red with embarrassment as I practically carried him back toward the ramen store. That run had taken up at least fifteen minutes of good relaxation time. By this point, I was ticked.
I slumped him down in a chair in front of the head owner, who was not at all pleased.
It got worse when the police became involved, and then, the child�s parents. It seemed that they were not Japanese people, and had come all the way from Germany. The kid�s name was Yutaro. They were not happy with him.
Well, I wouldn�t be either, if it had been my son. It occurred to me that perhaps Kenji had done this too when he was Yutaro�s age. I would always have to fish him out of trouble nowadays, so I could sympathize with these parents.
They were nice people, and I listened patiently as they spoke to the police and to the store owner. I wanted my food and I wanted a shower, but I had to wait until they were done. They turned to me at the end, as their son hopped off the chair, eyes downcast.
The father reached out and took my hand in his. �Thank you very much, Mr�..?�
�Himura. Himura Kenshin.� I offered, a bit wary at the contact of the man�s hand on mine. He gave it a firm shake. I managed a weak smile.
By the time I got my ramen, the sun had set.
And by the time I was done, I was late for my appointment with Kenji�s teacher.
It was 6:20 by the time I reached the school, and I must have looked like a mess. My appointment had been at six sharp, but I had miscalculated the time. I hated being late for anything.
It was in my mind not to bother going any more, but it had been my fault, and I wanted to make sure that the poor guy wasn�t still waiting for me.
The school was not as big as most were, but it still gave off the impression that it was serious about education. From the moment one walked in through the doors, photos of graduates and award-winners that were plastered on the hallways walls, greeted them. The lights in a few of the classrooms were still on, indicating that the teachers were not yet done with their work, or that students still had some clubs going on.
Outside, the track-and-field team was still practicing, running laps around the school building. I could hear the whistle of the coach sound, its shrill wail making a chill run down my body.
Ignoring that, I made my way to the school office after catching my breath. I had had no more spare change and had had to run all the way to the school. Normally I would not have minded, but then I would never have a pack to carry. Nor was I already worn out both mentally and physically. All of a sudden, I was worried about what I might hear the teacher had to say.
A group of students exited a classroom to my right, and upon passing me, they gave me quizzical glances. I was just some guy with really long red hair, a plain sweatshirt and worn jeans standing in the middle of their hallway. I glanced away, and stepped into the office.
The secretary looked up. She looked about ready to leave, but despite her fatigue, she gave me a polite smile: finally, someone with a bit of normalcy. �Can I help you sir?�
I gave her a small nod. �Yes, I have an appointment with someone by the name of Kamiya-sensei?�
The woman, whom I knew went by the name �Fujiwara� because of her faceplate on her desk, glanced at her watch. �In room 328.� She said after a while. I just hoped he hadn�t already left.
Thanking her, I made my way to the stairs. I couldn�t say I was all that pleased to walk up three flights, but since elevators weren�t common on school grounds, I was resigned to doing so.
And then I had a hell of a time trying to find the room number, as for some strange reason, the numbers weren�t all in order. I was not a very happy person. I would be in an even darker mood if I had come all the way there for nothing and Mr. Kamiya was gone.
I got to the right door after wandering about for about five minutes. It was the classroom all the way at the end of the hall, and if I hadn�t bothered to go down it, I would have missed it all together.
Cautiously, I poked my head in, as the door was wide open. I expected to see no one in, but was surprised by a figure who was sitting at an oak desk.
It looked like the teacher was not in the room any more.
I began to back out.
�Hello?� Whoever it was called out to me.
I paused and then reluctantly walked back inside. I didn�t want to be rude or anything. �Um, hi.� I muttered. �Kamiya-sensei is�..?�
She didn�t let me finish. �You must be Himura-san, correct?�
A woman.
My cheeks heated up at my mistake. I had expected to see a man of about my age who was built and round. Instead, I got a raven haired woman, who was slim and beautiful. She looked no more than 23 years of age. From a distance she looked like any other high school girl. Personally, I thought she was quite young to be a teacher, but I would never say anything of that sort out loud.
I managed to find my voice. �Yes, that�s me.� Well, duh.
She didn�t seem to catch my blundering, because she got up from her desk, a smile plastering onto her oval face. She had bright blue eyes that seemed eager and innocent. She was wearing a long black skirt and a cream colored top. Not bad in the fashion sense � simple but neat. I must have looked like I walked out of a garbage truck with what I was wearing.
She gave me a formal bow before shaking my hand. �My name is Kamiya Kaoru.� She gestured for me to take a seat on one of the chairs, so I did so, all of a sudden really uncomfortable. I would be talking with my son�s teacher, who seemed to look no more than his older sister!
Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them over my lap, after placing my bag down next to me. �I-I�m really sorry I was late. Did you wait long?� I ventured.
Glancing at her wristwatch, she shook her head. �Actually, I lost track of the time � I had papers to mark anyway.� She gave me a sheepish smile. �I almost forgot our appointment.� She admitted, with a little laugh, �But you are no doubt Kenji�s father!�
So I was told. We looked alike, my son and I.
She leaned forward, her black ponytail falling over her left shoulder. �I�ll be frank with you, Himura-san: I�m really worried about your son�s progress in school.�
I held in my sigh. If only she knew how much I was as well. �What�s he been doing?� This time, I added silently.
�Well,� Kaoru seemed to hesitate. �For one thing, he hasn�t been showing up to classes. The word they use nowadays is �skipping�.�
I didn�t know whether to get upset or feel numb about that, so said nothing in response. She continued though. �As you well know, it�s a race out there in education these days. If your son doesn�t clean up his act, I don�t know if I can pass him onto the next grade. And what�s scaring me is the fact that he doesn�t seem to care.�
�You�ve spoken with him already?� I asked, shifting my position in my seat.
Kaoru nodded. �But for some reason, he doesn�t want to pay attention. Today was the only day I saw him for the last three weeks. I thought I�d bring it to your attention since you were his father.�
What could I tell her? That he wasn�t going to listen to me either? I decided to ask my own questions. �I see�.and what subject do you teach, Kamiya-san?�
�Science.� She answered. �Biology to be exact.�
Kenji had been taking biology?
�Is it only your class he�s been skipping?� I asked, skeptically. Of course, my thought had been that perhaps he didn�t really like Biology�.or perhaps didn�t like her. She seemed to get the hint.
Leaning back in her chair, she huffed, �Please do not get me wrong, Himura-san, but I take great pride in what I teach. I�m not like others who get paid so long as they teach and don�t care for their students. As a teacher, I want my students to respect me and have the want to learn.�
I felt bad for hitting her directly like that. I looked toward the windows, where little plants had begun to grow. No doubt a project of some sort. Pictures of the human anatomy were displayed on the side wall, and a small statue of a brain was sitting there too. It fascinated me. I didn�t have a passion for biology, but I certainly didn�t hate it.
I pulled my attention back to her. She was frowning. �I wanted to ask you if he mentions anything about wanting to drop out�..�
�He never mentions anything to me.� I replied, and then instantly regretted saying so.
She didn�t seem fazed by that comment, but instead, she pressed on. �Does he do his homework?�
�Yes.� And no.
Kaoru didn�t seem convinced. �He is a very bright boy�.�
I smiled a bit at that. �I know.� I answered. I didn�t like the way it was turning out to be more of an interrogation than an interview. I felt like Kenji had done a crime or something. �Tell me, Kamiya-san, how does Kenji act when he is in class?�
That was a question she didn�t seem to have been expecting. She crossed one leg over the other as she thought. �Well, he is very quiet.� She concluded finally. �He doesn�t like to be called upon in class, and he definitely does not like to volunteer his answers.�
I stared down at my thumbs for a moment, before asking, �And if you were to tell me his current mark right now�..�
���.it would be a failing grade.� Was her immediate response.
Well, I had been expecting something of the sort.
�Will you talk with him?� She asked, quietly.
I wanted to laugh. Laugh and tell her that if it was possible, I would. If he would listen to me, then I would. If he would not make me waste my breath, I would. There was probably only one person on the earth who could make that kid listen. How little she knew of Kenji! And how it seemed to grate on my nerves�..
�I�ll see what I can do.� I said, getting up from my chair. Kaoru didn�t seem happy with that answer. �I�ll talk to him.� I promised.
A small smile touched her lips. �Thank you.� She said quietly. She got to her feet as well. �I will be calling you back if ever I see there is something that is of concern.� She was ever the business-like person. I found myself nodding.
�Good night, Himura-san.� She bade.
�Good night.�
With that, I left the school.
A failing grade?
It is customary to bow upon meeting. Thus the reason why Kenshin was squirmish when Yutaro�s father instantly did a handshake. Also, schools usually have uniforms, but there are some that don�t.
To Be Continued���
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AN: So the chapters seem a bit mediocre, but it�s meant to be that way. There are past problems of course, and reasons to why Kenji is like this. Forgive me, I am not a middle-aged man, nor am I a parent, but I am trying to make it as believable as possible.
CHAPTER 3
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