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Chapter Seven

Silently, Hiko accepted the redhead's offer of another cup of tea. Truthfully though, the sword master wished he had something a bit stronger. Of all the days to run out of sake. Mentally he made a note to keep one jug in reserve from now on. Just for occasions such as this.

The dark haired man was not in the habit of drinking to excess. That was a mistake he had made only once. One the memory of his behavior would have ensured he never repeated. Even if his own Shishou hadn't tanned his hide.

Someone who can kill five men with one blow, his Master had lectured. Has no business over imbuing. Still, Hiko couldn't help but think that the long dead man who had taught him had never considered this particular scenario. He doubted any of the twelve previous practitioners of the Honorable Sword of the Flying Heavens had.

Not only had Kenshin died, something the older man tried not to think about, but he was now immortal. Well, not entirely immortal. That was the problem. Hiko was almost tempted to hug the other, not that he would. It would go straight to his student's head (not to mention his pride would never recover).

Instead Hiko snorted. "Typical," he said. "Men have been dying since time began. Yet somehow you can't even manage to do that right." Immediately, the large man started bemoaning how he could have chosen such an idiot as his apprentice. Watching said deshi's change in demeanor with both relief and amusement. Neither of which he let show on his face.

The redhead twitched. "Shishou," he complained. He had not come here to have his inadequacies expanded upon. Again. Though at least his Mater hadn't started in on the childhood stories yet. That was something.

Suddenly Hiko went silent, fixing the younger man with a firm gaze. "You hardly need me to tell you something you have already realized yourself."

Slowly, Kenshin let out a deep breath, not feeling nearly as aggravated as he wanted to. Violet eyes falling to his own cup as he acknowledged the truth of the older man's words. Sometimes he wished the other didn't know him so well.

If he had been present, Methos would have been surprised at the implication the redhead had actually been listening to him. Much less actually considering his arguments. Kenshin had always given the impression the lectures were going in one ear and out the other.

An almost imperceptible grimace flickered over the former assassin's face as he took a sip of tea. "I always suspected my vow would be the death of me one day," Kenshin admitted. "I knew when I made it what the probable consequences were." And though he hadn't actively sought his own death at the time, he hadn't really wanted to live either.

"But things are different now." For one, the stakes were higher. Kenshin could not risk some unscrupulous immortal getting their hands on the secrets of his sword style along with his head. He and Saitou's teacher had explained that aspect of the quickening as well.

Likewise, any immortal who came for him would have lived decades, if not centuries longer than he. It was very unlikely such a man, or woman, would be swayed from their course. Not that that would stop Kenshin from trying. Even in his mortal life, there had been those the redhead had been unable to save from themselves.

Most of them were dead. None of them at his hand. However, the ex-assassin had to admit, if only to himself, that was luck more than anything. He would have killed Ji-ne if Kaoru had not broken free of the other's hold. And reverse blade or no, Shishio had been fortunate the force of the final technique hadn't driven broken ribs into his lungs.

"Then perhaps," his Master's voice interrupted Kenshin's inner musings. "You should think about why you made the vow in the first place."

That was easy, the redhead thought. He hadn't wanted to lose himself. But that was no longer an issue. It hadn't been for some time.

"If it makes you feel any better," Hiko continued, reading the answer in the younger man's face. "Technically, your vow is fulfilled." Kenshin had sworn never to kill another man until the day he died. That he hadn't stayed dead was hardly an issue.

The redhead sighed, the last of his objections evaporating. "I guess that means I need a new katana." He had barely finished the words when a package landed on his lap.

"Open it," his Master ordered.

Frowning, Kenshin did so. Only to have his breath catch in his throat. It was his sword. The blade of Hitokiri Battousai. "Where did you get this?" he whispered.

"Some young idiot left it on a battlefield." A waste of good steel that would have been.

He reached for it, only to pull back at the last moment. "No," Kenshin said, shaking his head. "I can't."

"You have redeemed yourself of your former actions," Hiko scolded. Both voice and eyes oddly gentle. "Doesn't this blade deserve the same chance?"

There was a long moment of silence before Kenshin nodded. His hand closing over the hilt. It was done.

Finis

Apologies to those who wanted an action fic

You'll have to wait for the sequel

Thought about writing a humorous omake based on one of the reviews

Misao pin-cushioned an immortal who challenged Kenshin

But I ultimately decided this chapter was too serious for that.

I'll try to sneak it into the next installment

After all, you can't have a Highlander fic without flashbacks