Generic Disclaimer: I don't own Ruroken... that is Watsuki-sama's. And I don't own "Only the Beginning" (which this fic is a semi-au spin-off of)... that is owned by lolo popoki... Thank you!

Prodigal Son

He sat on the grass near the edge of the cliff, gazing out across the cold expanse of nothingness. He could hear a waterfall in the distance, but it was invisible in the endless dark. He was just far enough out that his house was swallowed up by the deep forest, and his only light was the faint silver glimmer of moonlight and an explosion of stars overhead. But the emptiness didn't bother him nearly as much now as it would have two days ago, when his own life had seemed just as dark. Just as empty.

He hadn't sat like this in years. The last time he had come here, his young deshi had been with him, and Hiko had imparted knowledge about the sweetness of life to the boy. He'd offered to drink sake with him one day.

One day...

He sighed deeply. Kenshin, you baka... I really looked forward to that. I looked forward to you coming home...

He took a long drink of his sake and closed his eyes. He had been waiting so long for the day that his deshi would return, finally realizing what a fool he'd been to leave in the first place. The day they could be family again... or at least friends.

He had missed his son.

A small part of him had even, strangely enough, grown to like the idea of Hiten Mitsurugi dying with its thirteenth master. Because that meant he'd live long enough to see the boy grow and mature. Take a wife. Raise a child. It had meant that in time, Hiko might even have been able to slowly drop the cold mask he'd drawn up with the boy. Not completely. The teasing and tormenting were too much fun. But it would have lost its harsh, poisonous edge. He could have actually become the father that he'd carefully avoided being during the boy's training. He could allow for attachments. There would be no reason to protect Kenshin anymore.

He hadn't realized how completely he'd had planned this out. He'd thought out such tiny fragments in the small moments of loneliness he'd felt since Kenshin had left. Then again, there had been many such moments. All he'd been waiting for was for his deshi to return. To marry. Because once he did that, Hiko would no longer accept the responsibility of finishing the boy's training. He would never risk ruining Kenshin's happiness for the ougi, no matter what "obligation" his own shishou had lain upon him with the mantle. He certainly wouldn't let Kenshin risk it. The boy had just needed to take a wife.

How ironic that taking a wife had been the thread that had unraveled those dreams.

He had never imagined that it would be Kenshin's death that would end all of those possible futures.

Hiko took a deep breath. He'd never dreamed that he'd regret having lived this long, himself.

Another sip of the sake to stop the slight catch he'd felt in his throat. He wouldn't drink as much as he had for the past couple of days. But he needed this.

"I was supposed to die first, you baka," he growled softly, his voice, rough with suppressed emotion, breaking the solemn silence. He'd always believed that even if the ougi weren't the death of him, that his deshi would outlive him. Even though there were only about fifteen years between them. If that. Kenshin's age had only been a guess on Hiko's part. The boy hadn't been sure. And at the time, Hiko hadn't realized that Kenshin was a runt. Hell, for all he knew, Kenshin could already be into his twenties.

Hiko smiled faintly, the action not quite reaching his eyes. Well, now our age gap is going to grow considerably, isn't it, Kenshin? And one day he would still have to see Hiko die. It didn't matter that Hiko's death would no longer be by Kenshin's own hand... it would still hurt the boy. And now he would be utterly alone when it happened.

Life wasn't fair. That fact, Hiko had always known and accepted. But that was just cruel.

And this brought Hiko back to the concerns that had driven him away from his house and deshi in the first place. He loved the boy, as much as he cringed to use that word, far more than even he had realized. His deshi's return, even as a spirit, had pulled him together. Because he'd come very close to breaking completely last night. If Kenshin hadn't appeared when he had, the swordsman wasn't sure he would have ever fully recovered. He'd likely have just drunken himself into oblivion. That's what he had been trying to do, anyway. Drink until he could no longer think about his loss. Preferably stay in that state as long as humanly possible. He hadn't cared about his pride anymore. He'd had nothing left to be proud of. He'd always been opposed to the idea of suicide. And, even though his life hadn't seemed to be worth much of anything anymore, his personal scruples wouldn't allow him to kill his body the way Kenshin's death had nearly killed his heart. Life was life, after all, even if there was no one left to care about his. However... there were other forms of self-destruction. And he'd had no qualms about allowing for the decay of his meager existence. His persona. No one would have cared if he'd broken. He certainly wouldn't have. Not anymore.

But Kenshin's timely appearance had given him a reason to care. Had returned his purpose to him. Last night, Kenshin had saved Hiko's life, and the boy would probably never know.

When he'd sobered up, he'd allowed Kenshin a small understanding of that. Very small, but it was the only way Hiko had known how to show gratitude. He had no intention of allowing the baka to realize just how bad his shishou had been. His deshi didn't need to know how far Hiko would have allowed himself degenerate. He certainly didn't need to understand why. Didn't need to realize that the night he'd killed himself, he had completed what Hiko had feared he would do all those years ago. Only back then, with no guidance, the boy had been strong enough not to break. After life with his shishou, he apparently wasn't. What did that say about Hiko's guidance? Hiko had lived to protect the weak. If his constant belittling and harsh methods had managed to destroy one of the few people who, even as a child, had been strong enough to earn his respect, then Hiko didn't see how his own life was worth anything. Why not drink himself to death? Another wasted samurai. Who cared? No one would have been left to grieve his passing.

He sighed again, closing his eyes, and setting the drink down. Feeling the cool breeze against his skin. Allowing his gratitude that Kenshin still existed in some almost tangible way to wash over him in a barely concealed emotional wave. His gratitude that they could still talk. And that Hiko had been given the opportunity to explain. To apologize.

Then another thought struck him for the first time. Thank god Kenshin could talk to him. What if he hadn't known the boy was there, and had given up completely? He wouldn't have wanted the spirit to helplessly watch him fall to that state. Hiko winced. Kenshin had clearly been distraught over his shishou's tears. Over the guilt that Hiko had felt about his own part in his deshi's death. Kenshin had, in fact, been so upset by Hiko's moments of weakness and pain over the death of his boy, that Kenshin had spent half of the morning assuring him repeatedly that the suicide had had nothing to do with him, a fact that even now, Hiko only half-believed. If two days of watching his pain and guilt had upset his deshi so much... what would watching years of apathetic self-destruction have done?

The swordsman shuddered to think of it.

Then again, what was it going to do to Kenshin to be forced to watch his shishou age and die? In a normal situation, there was nothing wrong with that. It was the nature of things. But this wasn't a normal situation. And Kenshin would not have the comfort of knowing that he was also following this natural order close behind those he cared about.

That was another thing that worried him. Another thing that had bothered him to distraction all day, as he'd brushed off his deshi's frantic attempts to comfort him. Another thing that had drawn him to this spot tonight. What was he supposed to do about Kenshin wanting to haunt him? It was bad enough that Hiko was actually happy to be haunted. But what was worse was that the boy was still young, even with all he had experienced, and Hiko had a feeling that he hadn't thought this through very well. Kenshin didn't realize what he was going to put himself through. He was oblivious to the fact that he'd be better off just letting his spirit rest, and leaving Hiko to his miserable loneliness. As his shishou, Hiko should have been demanding that Kenshin do what was right for himself. As a father, Hiko should have ignored his personal feelings, and put Kenshin on the right path. Then again, Hiko had already proven that he'd made a pretty lousy parent.

The crazy thing was that Kenshin really seemed to want to stay, despite all that Hiko had put him through in the past. For some reason he actually cared about his shishou and wanted to remain here with him. Hell, he'd already begun making plans for their time together, rambling on about some sort of atonement that Hiko was apparently expected to agree to take part in. He snorted, remembering how that conversation had gone... And remembering his own surprise when Kenshin had added that even if Hiko had refused, he would like to remain anyway.

What's more, Hiko wanted Kenshin to stay so badly that he was even starting to consider the idea of wandering around Japan like an idiot. He was half-tempted to agree to it. Why not? Wasn't like he had any other pressing concerns... And honestly, though he'd never admit it to Kenshin, it was very similar to an idea he'd been planning in his own youth... if things had gone differently, and he hadn't decided to take a moment of his time to deal with some ronin in the woods... a decision that he had never once regretted...

But was he really considering agreeing to this plan because it would help Kenshin? Or was he just trying to help himself? Was he giving himself a way to guarantee that he wouldn't lose Kenshin again? Was he giving himself a way to atone for what had happened to his deshi? What was he supposed to do? Agree and keep his deshi? Disagree and try to find a way for the boy's spirit to rest? What was the right choice? He wasn't used to being so indecisive. To questioning his own motives...

What was best for Kenshin? Old paternal instincts were kicking in as he tried to decide. But those instincts had failed him last time. What had he done wrong in his guidance? How could he fix it, so he didn't make the same mistake again?

He ran his hand over his face, tiredly. He was going to be here all night, torturing himself. And he was going to run out of sake. He'd only allowed himself a small bottle this time, so he was going to have to decide quickly.

What to do?

The answer came to him just as he realized that he wasn't alone. Without turning, he growled into the shadows, "How long have you been standing there?"

There was a short pause. Then, in a soft voice, Kenshin replied, "A while... I was worried when you didn't come back. You've been gone a long time." He paused, then tentatively asked, "How did you know I was here, Shishou? I have no ki anymore..."

"I could feel you staring at me."

"Oh."

A moment of silence.

Hiko finally turned and shot a glare at the ghost. "Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to join me?"

Kenshin blinked, and, realizing that Hiko's gruffness wasn't irritation, smiled a little as he came to sit beside him.

They rested quietly for a moment. Kenshin broke the silence first, commenting lightly, "I always liked this spot." Awkwardly, he added, "I missed it. Especially when I drank... I'd think of that talk we had about sake. What makes it taste good..." His expression was a little wistful. "I was thinking about that the night I--" He broke off, uncomfortably.

Hiko swallowed hard, staring straight ahead into the darkness. "You remember that?"

The redhead nodded, surprised. "Of course." He smiled again. "It was one of those times when you didn't seem irritated with me. I remember all of those..."

"Shouldn't be too hard," his shishou replied, darkly, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "There probably aren't many to keep track of..."

Kenshin sighed, sending a pained glance in the older man's direction. "Shishou, I told you... it wasn't your fault."

Hiko shook his head in a non-committal manner, and changed the subject. "This atonement thing of yours..." He paused, ignoring the startled look on his deshi's face "... where we walk around Japan together 'saving people', and I get to look like a crazy drunk who talks to himself..."

Kenshin winced, obviously not having thought that part through very well. "Shishou, I told you that you don't have to--"

"Do you really want to do it?"

Kenshin's eyes grew wide. "What?"

Hiko wouldn't look at him, staring off into the empty darkness ahead of him. "Is that what you really want to do? It's your decision."

"Mine?"

Hiko finished his cup of sake. "Yes. Yours. I made all of your choices for you in the past. It's no wonder you wouldn't listen to me when I needed you to. When it mattered." He looked uncomfortable, unused to admitting mistakes. Unused to even acknowledging that he made mistakes. Though he'd been doing a lot of that in the past few days... "Anyway, you're old enough to decide for yourself now. What do you want to do?"

There was a long, thoughtful pause. Then, in a very soft voice, the redhead replied, "I want to do it, Shishou."

Hiko allowed his careful mask to drop for a moment, as small, genuine smile played at his lips. He poured one last cup of sake for himself. He then placed the nearly empty bottle in front of his deshi. "This is the closest we can come to sharing sake now... but it's something I had looked forward to..."

Kenshin bowed his head guiltily, avoiding the flicker of pain he'd seen in the swordsman's eyes, and the slight falter in his smile. "Shishou..." he whispered, brushing his fingers against the bottle's edge. It was the last of the expensive sake from his drinking binge the other night.

They sat in silence a moment as Hiko sipped his, then stood, stretching. "Let's start back. Unlike you, I actually need to get some sleep." He reached for the nearly empty bottle, and tied it at his waist.

Kenshin blinked up at him. "Is there even enough to make it worth carrying, Shishou?"

"It's not to drink."

"Not to...?"

Hiko's voice was very soft, and uncharacteristically gentle as he responded. "If you ever change your mind and decide to rest, I intend to have some good sake for you when you reach nirvana."

It had been a long time since he'd seen Hiko like this. Since being with Hiko had felt like having a father, rather than an overstrict teacher. Another thing he had missed. When his shishou decided to be kind, he was better than most. Kenshin had learned more than just swordsmanship from this man. He wished he could find a way to express that. But for now all he could manage was a whispered, "Thank you, Shishou." He would have time to say more later. With Hiko, he knew, feelings had to be doled out in small portions.

True to form, the swordsman just shrugged, brushing off Kenshin's gratitude. "Come on, baka... We'll leave in the morning. For now, let's go home."

Author's Note: This fic is a semi-AU companion piece to lolo popoki's "Only the Beginning." I have no idea how she intends to end the story, so I'm just making a guess based on what she already has. So, her fic may (and probably will) go in an entirely different direction. I just don't want anyone to be confuzzled about that.

A big thanks to lolo for allowing me to play in her fic, and for being my amazing beta once again.

I hope you enjoyed this in all of its over-angsty glory. Please review.

Dewa mata.

Sirius