Disclaimer: RK is not mine; it's Nobuhiro Watsuki's. However, all
original plot and characters do belong to me.


The Master and The Pupil

Part Two: The Lesson of the Scroll

"Good-bye Eiji-chan! If you need anything, just drop by." The kindly
grey-haired woman waved once last time at the serious-looking boy in the
doorway. 'He smiles far too little,' Chiro thought to herself. Why, Eiji
was only ten years of age and sometimes he behaved like he was twice as
old. He didn't like mixing with other children and preferred staying
indoors by himself practicing with his shinai. Perhaps something
terrible had happened to him before Tokio-san had adopted him. 'But at
least he has a good home now.' Fujita-san was a very intimidating man
and often away on work but his wife was the polar opposite, warm and
friendly.

..................

When Chiro left, Eiji returned to completing the household chores he had
set for himself. With a final flick, he swept the last of the dust into
the pan and took it out to the courtyard to be emptied. The sun was
almost down, just touching the line where earth and sky met. Tokio had
gone to the neighbouring town to visit a friend. Tokio seemed to have
friends scattered all over Japan. Wherever they moved, she had at least
a few acquaintances in that town. "Even out here," he muttered, pausing
to take in the view. There were trees and hills for miles around, and a
long snaking road that joined this small town to the next few. It was
extremely isolated and private here. Saitou had deliberately hidden them
here since his next assignment was to arrest a man named Yukishiro
Enishi. This Enishi must be very dangerous for Saitou to take such
precautions.

Stashing the broom and pan in the storeroom, Eiji walked back into the
house, took a book from the shelf and settling himself in the doorway,
proceeded to read. He had finished two chapters when he heard the sound
of the gate being pushed open. Looking up, Eiji was already halfway
through his greeting when all sound died in his throat and for a very
long moment he forgot to breathe. Tokio was looking down at him, a
faintly bemused expression on her face, unaware that just behind her was
one of the most invincible killers in the land.

"Eiji, are you okay?" The sound of her voice spurred him to action and
he leapt up, jumping in front of her. "Eiji--?"

This was the man who had defeated Himura at Shingetsu. Technically it
had been a draw, as Saitou had pointed out. But still, if Seta Soujirou
had chosen to attack Himura using the splintered Kotetsu, he could
easily have killed the red-haired swordsman. "Tokio, get back in the
house! He's Seta Soujirou, Shishio Makoto's right-hand man!"

Soujirou merely blinked at Eiji, wondering how the boy knew who he was.
He was too busy trying to remember where he had met the boy to notice
the startled expression that flitted over Tokio's face before she
composed herself. "Oh I remember. You're the boy from Shingetsu!" he
exclaimed.

"I'm the boy whose family Shishio's men murdered," Eiji spat, his hands
clenched into tight fists. "What are you doing here?" Eiji had never
forgotten the sight of his brother or his parents. The intense hatred
and sadness he felt had over the course of the weeks settled into a dull
heaviness in his chest, dormant but still there. Seeing Soujirou brought
every volatile emotion spilling to the surface. Without knowing it, Eiji
was shaking from the intensity of feeling that wracked him.

Although he still kept that serene expression on his face, Soujirou was
affected. The boy's rage, his palpable fear...there was something
familiar about it all. He knew what it was to feel like that, to have
experienced emotions so strong that they pierced your very being. A long
time ago, he had known anger and fear like that. Standing under a rainy
sky, hiding his tears in the rain...

The smile that he wore like a mask over his face cracked ever so slightly.

If she didn't intervene, Eiji was going to have an emotional breakdown
or Soujirou was going to walk out of her gate and never come back.
Gently but firmly, Tokio placed her hands on Eiji's shoulders. "It's
alright Eiji," she said firmly.

"But he-"

"Let him be. He means no harm." She tried to steer him back through the
doorway but Eiji resisted, glaring daggers at Soujirou. Judging by the
fiery intensity of his ki, Soujirou would have been dead multiple times
over if looks could have killed. "Let it go for now Eiji. Please," she
said softly. Wounded brown eyes looked up at hers before his lips
thinned into a tight line and he ran back inside the house.

......................

"Tokio-san, maybe I should-"

"Forget about leaving." Tokio picked up the book that lay discarded on
the floor, slipping her shoes off. "Please come inside Soujirou. I
offered you food and shelter. If you want to leave, you may do so after
that." Just as she had done at the road, she walked in without a second
glance back, leaving Soujirou to follow her after a few second's
deliberation.

Seating himself in the hall, Soujirou waited while Tokio disappeared
down the corridor, leaving him all alone. Shishio-sama had commented a
few times on how a person's belongings, especially his home reflected
his personality. As a result, sometimes after a kill, Soujirou found
himself paying attention to such details as he was now doing. The room
was spare and elegantly decorated. There was no useless fanciful clutter
lying around. Tokio-san was a person who believed in combining good
taste with utility.

Eiji was nowhere to be found. 'He must have gone out by the back gate.'
She sighed a little, understanding how angry he must be with her. As far
as Eiji was concerned, Soujirou was just as guilty as Shishio and
Senkaku were for the massacre of his family. And he was right, in a way.
And yet, from another aspect, Soujirou was as much a victim as Eiji,
perhaps just as innocent as well. She would have to explain this to him
when he came back. But for now, she needed to tend to Soujirou. Taking
her medicine case from the cupboard, she went back to the hall only to
find Soujirou studying the one and only calligraphy scroll in the house.

"My father wrote that," she commented as she rummaged through the case.
"Can you read it?"

"The true swordsman is the one who wins without drawing his sword,"
Soujirou murmured. "How is that possible?" He turned to Tokio and his
eyes widened in alarm at the array of powders and vials she had taken
out. "Err...Tokio-san, I thought you said I needed a doctor?"

"I am a doctor. Not officially of course, but I know enough to get rid
of a fever." Swiftly she poured a little powder from three different
packets into a small bowl, mixing it well with some liquid from another
vial. "Drink this Soujirou." Her tone of voice brooked no argument and
Soujirou, now masterless and well accustomed to listening to a voice of
authority, promptly obeyed. He swallowed the bitter concoction and was
rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a vain attempt to
scrape the taste out when she asked him, "Why do you find what the
scroll says so impossible?"

'Because Shishio-sama would have said so,' the thought came to him at
once. That writing on the wall went against every single lesson he had
ever been taught. And it was true. If he had not drawn the wakizashi,
his foster family would have killed him. Death had been kept away by the
sword and death also came with the sword. "Either kill or be killed
Soujirou. This," Shishio held up his sword, the jagged side of the blade
catching the bright sunlight, "is what a sword is meant for. If you are
too weak to kill, then you will be killed." After that lesson, Shishio
had presented him with his first blade.

"Soujirou?"

"Eh?" He scratched his head and chuckled, trying to hide his temporary
lapse. "I don't know," he lied, unwilling to reveal the nature of his
thoughts.

"Yes. I can see that. It is hard to find an answer of your own that has
not been taught to you." Knowing eyes met his and in that moment,
Soujirou knew that he was going to have a very difficult time hiding his
thoughts and feelings from this woman. He knew she was a fighter, even
knew what kind of weapon she was versed in. The fluidity of her
movements, the calluses on her palms, the calm and controlled aura she
possessed were all signs to anyone sensitive enough to pick up on them.
But although he had yet to see her handle a sword, Soujirou knew that
Tokio-san was a formidable woman. It was her mind that made her so.

"How is it that ..." What was the boy's name? ..."Eiji is staying with
you? He spoke to you as though you would know who I am based on my name.
Not many people know about me, or Shishio-sama."

"My husband brought Eiji to me. If you remember, there was a policeman
with Himura Battousai in Shingetsu."

Saitou Hajime's wife. So that's who she was. Somehow, Soujirou was not
surprised. Shishio-sama had had Yumi-san by his side after all, and
although she had no fighting abilities, Yumi-san and Shishio-sama had
been very compatible in terms of character and modes of thought. Saitou
Hajime and Tokio had probably chosen each other on the same basis. He
wondered if she would attempt to keep him here until her husband came back.

As though she had guessed the nature of his thoughts, Tokio, as she put
her medicines back into the case, commented that Saitou would be away
for an indefinite period on his next case.

"Still, I should go. I mean, after dinner."

Calmly, she closed the lid of the case with a snap and looked Soujirou
square in the eye. "If you want, I can show you how it is possible to
defeat a man without drawing your sword." When he kept silent, Tokio
decided that she might as well lay her cards on the table. "Correct me
if I am wrong but I think, that, you are lost at the moment in every
sense of the word. Where are you going Soujirou? If you have no
particular destination in mind, there's no harm in staying here for a
while."

"Come with me?" Shishio had asked and he had agreed.

"You must find your own answer," Himura had said.

"I have to find my own answer," Soujirou repeated. To his surprise, she
chuckled warmly and shook her head.

"I said I would show you another way other than what you have been
taught. Whether you choose to accept it is another thing entirely. I
cannot tell you what to do Soujirou. That is something only you should
have control over. Now if you will excuse me, I have dinner to prepare."
She was about to leave the room when she turned back. "Think about it."

As she quickly prepared a simple meal for three, Tokio could not help
but feel some anxiety. If Soujirou chose to, he could easily slip away
now and she would not be able to stop him. She did not believe in Fate,
but she believed in Chance. It was not to be relied upon, but sometimes
Chance had a way of bringing things into one's path that were completely
unexpected, whether good or bed. And it was precisely this that had
brought her path in line with Soujirou's. Hajime had told her about the
Juppon Gatana; Seta Soujirou was the one member that remained
unaccounted for. The authorities would arrest him in a minute if they
knew his whereabouts, or at least they would attempt to anyway. 'But the
boy is harmless, if left to his own devices.' But what if someone else
happened to cross his path and exert an influence over him once more?
According to Hajime's investigations, Soujirou was an orphan who had
murdered his family while hiding Shishio in the storehouse. The only way
he could have gotten access to a weapon was through Shishio. And Shishio
Makoto was not a man to let talent go wasted; he had turned Soujirou
into his killing protégé.

"The child is only beginning to develop a mind of his own," she
muttered, cutting the tuna into thin slices. She had no idea what Himura
Battousai had said to Soujirou, Hajime didn't know either since he had
refused to contact the ex-assassin and let the rest know that he had
survived. Whatever it was, it had been sufficient enough to persuade
Soujirou to do some thinking of his own. But if Soujirou met another man
like Shishio Makoto, one whose mind was as dangerous and violent as his
sword, the young man would not stand a chance, not while his own mind
was still vulnerable.

'But aren't you doing the same thing by attempting to keep him here,'
she had to ask herself. 'And assuming he does remain, what if after all
your teaching, he insists on following Shishio's path? What will you do
then?' Taking Soujirou in was a huge risk. Should he attack her, Tokio
knew that she would not be able to survive. She was good, very good with
the blade. But she was no match for a tenken. And Eiji's life would be
at risk as well. For a moment she wondered if she should have left him
at her father's estate along with Tsuyoshi and Tsutomu. 'But he wouldn't
have liked it there. Besides, you brought him here so you could spend
time with him as well.' The toddlers would miss her and Hajime but they
adored their grandfather as well. Eiji would only have felt miserable
surrounding by a happy home full of strangers.

Setting aside a portion for Eiji whom she suspected would only be
returning late in the night, Tokio placed the dishes on a lacquered tray
and took a deep breath. There was simply no point in doubting herself.
She would have to do her best, and that was to show Soujirou that there
was more to knowing how to wield a sword. One also had to know why.
Shishio had given him a reason. Now she would have to offer Soujirou an
alternative, one that would come into fierce contest with Shishio's
lessons and he would have to choose between the two.

To her immense relief, Soujirou was still in the hall when she announced
that dinner was ready. They said nothing during the meal, only the soft
clinks of chopsticks on porcelain punctuated the silence. But when she
offered him a change of clothes and the use of the guestroom, he didn't
protest and Tokio knew that she had won this round. But this was only
the beginning. She wondered what the end would be like.

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