I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters. I'm just playing with them for fun.

No Laughing Matter

He was so hungry.

He had no idea when Shisho intended dinner to be. On these long summer days it was sometimes after dark, if Hiko wanted to use the daylight hours for training. Then again, they were as likely to train after dark as in the daylight, so dinnertime was a constantly moving target. After almost a year of training with Hiko, Kenshin was sure it was deliberate. It didn't change the fact that he was very, very hungry.

Today, as on many days, the lesson was tracking Hiko, and the Master was making it progressively more difficult. There, just ahead of him, was one of last year's fallen leaves, turned so that the damp underside was exposed. He crept a few yards forward, constantly scanning for anomalies. A little farther along, a long black hair hung from a branch far over his head.

He crept forward again, still scanning for subtle signs. He was following no recognizable path through the woods; he couldn't second-guess where Hiko was heading.

'Face it, Kenshin,' he thought. 'You couldn't second-guess Shisho in anything.'

Something bright orange caught his eye. Turning to look, he spied a cluster of mushrooms poking up through the grass and remaining leaf litter. Shisho had just taught him about finding food in the woods. He'd shown Kenshin several different kinds of mushrooms, and one of the edible ones was orange. Kenshin scuffed a mark in the grass and leaves so he'd know where the trail was and went to investigate the mushrooms.

They were fat and clustered along a decaying log, something broken out of a tree years before. He leaned over, nearly standing on his head to look at the stalks. Each had a thin, fleshy bit hanging off the stalk. Shisho had called it a veil and that had been good. Orange ones without veils were poisonous, he remembered. None of the ones in the cluster were yellow-brown, either. Bright orange was good. He poked at the stalk and looked at the dust that floated down onto his finger: rusty brown. Was that good or bad? He couldn't remember. Must be good; he remembered Shisho pointing out an orange one with white dust that was bad. He plucked one off and nibbled on it. It was woody and a little bitter, but not too bad. Maybe the littler ones wouldn't be so woody. Yes, that was better, texture-wise anyway. It still was a little bitter, but at least his stomach wasn't rumbling so badly. For a little while, Kenshin forgot about tracking and concentrated on mushroom hunting.

Hiko stood outside the cabin, staring off at the trees. The sunlight had that lovely coppery red glow that it got in the late afternoon, and it struck down through the gaps in the trees with a color reminiscent of Kenshin's hair. He expected his student any minute, but so far there was no sign of him. Actually, he'd expected the boy at least half an hour ago. The trail he'd laid down hadn't been that hard. Challenging, yes, or the boy wouldn't learn, but not that hard.

He glanced at the rice pot, cooling next to the fire. Cold rice hadn't been in the plan for the evening meal, but it looked like that's what they'd be having. He hadn't started grilling the fish yet. They'd cook fast and he wanted Kenshin here before he started. His student's ability to grill fish without drying and burning it needed some remedial instruction.

Hiko sighed and started walking back into the woods. Depending on how far the little fool had strayed, it could be dark before they got back. He'd intended to let tracking be the last lesson of the day and give Kenshin a few evening hours off for once. He'd been training the boy relentlessly since better weather had moved in and he'd seen the purple shadows growing beneath his student's eyes. They went well with the color of his irises, come to think of it, but they also meant Kenshin was exhausted and exhaustion at this stage of the game meant he was all too likely to hurt himself. Give the kid credit – he'd tried to do everything Hiko asked of him, determined to learn how to protect himself and others. Such dedication was rare in a child so young, and Hiko had no intention of burning it out of him. Learning to push through exhaustion was a future lesson, but maybe a little extra work was due tonight, as punishment for losing the trail. Nothing hard or dangerous. Maybe one hundred swings at each strike point, counted out loud. Before dinner. Yep, that might do it. He could have the evening off tomorrow night, assuming his training and chores during the day went well.

Hiko heard Kenshin before he saw him, although he couldn't make out what the boy was saying. His clear treble voice seemed to float between the trees, little muted by underbrush.

'Talking to someone? Who would be up here?'

Hiko loosened his sword in its sheath. One thing he didn't like was interlopers on his mountain, and he religiously enforced the notion that it was haunted by demons. He slid ghost-like from one bole to the next, creeping up on his student, who was apparently talking to himself. Hiko could hear no answering voice. He stopped when he could actually make out the words, but they didn't add enlightenment. Kenshin was apparently telling himself a fairy tale. Actually, from the sound of it, he was telling himself several fairy tales, all at once. That fact that none of it made sense didn't seem to bother him; he was sitting against a log, chattering and laughing in a manner that usually compelled Hiko to avoid children and was, for Kenshin, completely unnatural.

"Oi, Baka. Aren't you supposed to be following a trail here?" Hiko asked, stepping out from behind his tree.

Kenshin stopped talking long enough to look at him in surprise for about three seconds, lavender eyes wide and mouth forming a little round "o". Then he burst into laughter.

'Not the response I'm used to getting,' Hiko thought, irritated. The stupefied awe he could understand; he was used to inspiring that in people, although he would have thought Kenshin would be used to his magnificence by now. The laughter… Nobody laughed at Hiko Seijuro, especially not little baka deshi who couldn't follow orders. He drew a breath and opened his mouth, but before he could give the little idiot the tongue-lashing he so richly deserved, Kenshin was speaking.

"Wow, the colors can talk and they sound just like Shisho when he's all grumpy and stern," the boy giggled, falling over. "Oh no, everything went sideways. How did it do that?"

Hiko realized his mouth was still hanging open and shut it quickly. 'What the hell? Some kind of fit? Is he hurt? Fell on his head, maybe?' He approached warily.

"Kenshin?"

"Shisho? Oh, Shisho, you're sideways! And green. Can you teach me to be sideways, too? Is that Higen Mixaruby?"

"What? Kenshin, you're lying on the ground. Get up."

"Umm, okay." Kenshin didn't move for a minute, and then began one of the most convoluted processes of getting onto his feet that Hiko had ever seen. In fact, he thought that the human body really couldn't do movements like that under normal circumstances. But then, things with Kenshin were rarely normal. He was showing all the signs of being drunk, but there was nothing obvious around on which to be drunk.

"Look, I did it! I'm sideways, too!" Kenshin exclaimed, and dissolved into giggles again. "But you don't look sideways anymore so am I really sideways or did you just come back straight?" His face was so expressive that Hiko could clearly see joy change to puzzlement.

"We're straight." He mentally shook his head and corrected himself. "Upright. Or rather, I'm upright; you're listing." He put a hand on Kenshin's shoulder to steady him. A little more tilt and gravity was going to take over again. "Kenshin, did you drink something? Or eat something?"

"Oh, yes, Shisho," Kenshin said with an excess of enthusiasm and giggles. "Mushrooms, just like you taught me. Lots and lots of mushrooms, and I'm not hungry anymore." He flung out his hands to indicate the scope of mushroomness and spun away from Hiko's steadying grasp. Momentum turned him into a small dervish of red, green, and brown until he crumpled into the leaf litter again, laughing uproariously. "The colors get all swirly…wheee!"

Mushrooms. Well that would explain it, but there wasn't a mushroom to be seen in the area. If it was what he suspected, lots and lots was bad, especially in a kid as small as Kenshin.

"Can you show me one?" he asked, hauling the boy back onto his feet and tapping him sharply on the head to get him to stop making hooting noises and pay attention.

Kenshin's whole body swayed as he surveyed the area, still wooing softly under his breath. "Nope," he said finally. "I ated all of 'em. The lit'ler ones taste better than the big'uns, but the big'uns fill you up faster." He belched loudly after this confidence and immediately collapsed in laughter again. Only Hiko's hand around his upper arm prevented him from measuring the forest floor with his body again.

Hiko sighed. To think he'd taken on a student willingly.

"Come on, Baka, let's see if you can walk and laugh at the same time." Hiko started towing Kenshin toward the cabin, taking a more direct path than the one he'd laid down for tracking practice. Kenshin stumbled gracelessly after him, keeping up the nonsensical dialogue interspersed with a wide variety of giggles, chuckles, and outright guffaws. It was more laughter than Hiko had ever heard out of the boy, but it sounded so unnatural that it grated on the big man's nerves. Kenshin's normal laughter was rare and almost silent, and his humor was more often displayed as a glint in his eyes or a small, sweet smile. Although Hiko would vehemently deny that he ever found it sweet.

After a few minutes, Kenshin tore his wrist from Hiko's grasp.

"There's one!" he crowed and almost literally fell on a mushroom. He was lifting it towards his mouth when Hiko plucked it from his grasp, leaving the boy to blink wonderingly at his hand.

"Enough mushrooms for you," Hiko said, examining it. Just what he'd thought: laughing mushroom. So much for trying to exaggerate which ones were edible and which ones weren't during that lesson. Kenshin obviously hadn't heard a thing.

"Whoa, Shisho, I have, like, twenty fingers. And they're all…rainbowy." He held up the grubby but otherwise normal appearing hand for Hiko's inspection.

His eyes, Hiko noticed, were getting a glazed appearance and his cheeks were flushed. The rest of his skin was pale and damp looking. Hiko grabbed Kenshin's wrist again and hauled him to his feet, towing more quickly this time. He could pick the boy up if he had to, but he preferred not to. The side-effects of too many laughing mushrooms could be quite distressing – the things were toxic, after all – and Hiko had no intention of being in the way when it happened.

"Shisho, your head is all grey…no, blue…no, grey…like a big storm cloud," Kenshin giggled, but it was taking on a hysterical note. He was wheezing, too, but Hiko couldn't tell if that was from the constant laughter or the speed they were moving.

They crossed the clearing in front of the cabin and Hiko stopped downwind of it at the edge of the woods.

"Stay here," he told Kenshin, letting go of his wrist so that the boy flopped to the ground. Kenshin made no reply but more laughter as he curled up on his side around his belly. He was still wheezing and tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were as red as his hair.

Hiko strode to the cabin and began pulling little pots off shelves, grinding together a concoction of herbs and mixing them with water. When he returned to Kenshin, a cup of herb-water in his hand, the boy was nearly blue with laughter. Hiko whacked him on the back to get him to draw in a breath. The big lavender eyes were panicky.

"Here, drink this," he said, pulling the boy upright and pushing the cup into Kenshin's hand. "Calm down. Control. It's as important now as in swordsmanship. You don't have to drink it all in one shot, but get as much as you can as fast as you can."

Trustingly, Kenshin did as directed, gulping down the potion between bouts of cackling. He just couldn't seem to stop, and it was obvious now that the shortness of breath was a direct result. He was simply laughing too much to breathe properly.

It took a little while to work, but eventually, Hiko noticed the boy's breathing was easier. He was still laughing, but it was starting to die down a bit. Hiko glanced at the angle of the sun, which was now below the tops of the trees. Not too much longer. Sure enough, within five more minutes, Kenshin's stomach made an audible rumble. It made him laugh harder for another minute, and then his face took on an uncertain expression.

"You might want to kneel and brace yourself on your hands," Hiko offered helpfully, an evil glint in his eyes. He moved so that he stood behind his student; it was best to get out of the line of fire.

Sure enough, Kenshin had barely managed to get onto his knees before he was vomiting into the grass in front of him. Repeatedly, and with surprising force.

Hiko calmly contemplated the encroaching sunset, ignoring the boy at his feet. Then, as the retching continued, walked over to the cabin to get the water bucket and bring it back. Ten minutes later, there was a break in the action as Kenshin finally sat back on his heels, mouth hanging open and panting, and an expression of distaste on his face.

"Not so funny now, is it?" Hiko asked. "Use the dipper to fill your cup and rinse your mouth out, but don't swallow any. You're going to be sorry enough as it is."

"I already am sorry," Kenshin muttered, doing as directed and then scooting back from the mess.

"You're going to be sorrier, 'cause I don't think you're done yet," was Hiko's pitiless observation.

Kenshin appeared dubious, but as usual, Hiko was right. Twenty minutes later, he was throwing up again in a slightly different spot. Hiko left him and went about fixing his own dinner in the fire pit in front of the cabin. It was far enough away he didn't have to see and there was no point in letting his student's stupidity ruin his evening. The smell of the fish roasting over the fire upwind of him was enough to send Kenshin into another stomach-wrenching paroxysm of retching and coughing, although from the sound of it, there wasn't much left in his stomach.

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Hiko was relaxing on his log seat with a cup of sake in his hand when Kenshin finally crept past towards the cabin. It was close to midnight, but the boy's face showed ghostly pale in the starlight. Hiko could see the dark shape of the bucket in Kenshin's hand, and the ladle rattled hollowly inside it.

"Finished?"

"I think so." Kenshin's voice was raspy and exhausted sounding. "I haven't thrown up for a least an hour or so."

"Want dinner? There's rice leftover."

Kenshin's face turned fully towards him and Hiko suppressed a laugh at his expression, which was clearly visible to the master. His face seemed to have gotten even paler and outrage warred with incredulity and a desperate desire to prevent any more heaving. He swallowed heavily several times.

"I'm just going to bed," he finally managed in a faint voice.

"You'll have to fill that bucket in the morning," Hiko reminded him.

"That's in the morning."

"After that, we'll go over mushroom identification again," the master needled.

"Don't bother," Kenshin said, stepping into the cabin. "I am never eating mushrooms again."

His voice had such a miserable finality to it that Hiko grinned wickedly. This was going to be all too much fun.

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Author Note: Please don't take my mushroom descriptions as any kind of a guide to finding wild mushrooms. Mushrooms are tricky beasties with many that appear alike and it's too easy to misidentify them and end up getting one that will do far worse to you than talking colors. Many experienced mushroom hunters have misidentified them and ended up dead. It's far safer and easier to buy them at the grocery store. That being said, I did try to describe laughing mushroom realistically, but in doing the research I found that there are two similar ones: one edible and one deadly. Kenshin is very lucky.