This is the sequel to "Forgotten Ties."

NOTE: I started this sequel in 2010 then took a 5 year break. I only picked the story back up recently but encountered so many technical problems with that I decided to republish from the start. I did lose the reviews, which sucks... I hope you'll enjoy the story!

Chapter 1

Bearer of sad news

Kenji sat on a bench outside his master's hut. On the ground at his feet lay a sheathed sword. It was a beautiful weapon. Although the hilt and scabbard were quite simple, the craftsmanship was of undeniable quality. A superior sword. But most of all, with its reversed blade, a useless weapon. Kenji did not dare look at the sharp blade but he knew without even a glance what he would find. Cold steel, as cold has the heart of the man who had yielded it. The boy of fifteen didn't want this katana. He didn't want anything to do with it. Yet, he had been unable to refuse it when Yahiko had given it to him. Then again, the man was like a brother to him and he could hardly deny him anything. Or so he had thought until yesterday. For although he had taken the sword he had categorically refused to go back to his home in Tokyo.

"Your mother is very sick and your father still hasn't come back. Megumi thinks Kaoru will hold until Kenshin comes back, but she could easily..." Yahiko had stopped mid-sentence, unable to voice the inevitable.

Yahiko loved Kaoru like a mother, a sister and a friend. He owed her his life, or so he said. Kenji also loved his mother more than anything else, but the thought of seeing his father had hardened his will to remain in Kyoto. He had refused to follow Yahiko, who had returned to Aoiya alone.

Now Kenji couldn't stop staring at the sword, hatred filling his heart. He had heard of his dad's recent deed and could not deny that the man had sacrificed much to bring peace and happiness to this world, but Kenji wished, deep down inside, that Kenshin had given him and his mother a share of this happiness. The samurai had rarely been home during the last ten years, leaving his mother waiting and worrying. Kenji hated the man. He hated his father and hoped with all his heart that he had died at sea during one of his trips. He did not wish to see him again. Ever.

"What are you doing there? Shouldn't you be training?" asked a manly voice.

Kenji lifted his head to see his master, Hiko Seijuro. No matter how many time he looked at him, he couldn't help but marvel at the man's face; he looked way too young to be in his fifties. Even his father looked older than the sword master.

"If you're not going back to Tokyo you should not waste your time brooding over a worthless piece of metal. Go!"

Hiko all but kicked his young pupil off the bench and pushed him towards the training area. Kenji reluctantly walked away, turning around one last time to take a look at the sakabato. Satisfied with his student, the sword master sat on the bench and picked up the sword at his feet. He slowly unsheathed it, looking at the hamon. A fine sword if there was ever one. Too bad his baka-deshi couldn't wield it anymore. Hopefully, Kenji would come to his senses and start using it or at least take good care of it. Hiko slid back the sword into its scabbard without a sound. Fine craftsmanship indeed. Setting the sword aside, he took the sake jar he had just purchased and and drank from it. He grimaced. It wasn't good today. Something was troubling his heart. Had his fear come true?

Kenji was training. The noon sun was shining hard on him and he sweated abundantly. He was about to make a battou stance when the straw strap of his zori suddenly snapped. Setting down his wooden training sword, the boy kneeled down to see the damage and if it could be fixed. After looking closely he determined that he would need to replace the strap with a piece of string else he would trip on his shoe. As he was about to stand back up, he sensed a presence. Swiftly grabbing his training sword, he pivoted and stood up to face his potential opponent. He immediately relaxed when he saw that it was Yahiko standing there, staring at him with a somewhat forlorn look.

"What is it? I told you I'm not going back to Tokyo."

The boy was expecting Yahiko to say something yet the man just stood there. Kenji noticed that he was panting and sweating, as if he had just trained, or ran. Curious, the boy got closer. As he did, he noticed that the man was clutching a piece of paper in his hand. However, what stopped the red-haired swordman in his tracks was Yahiko's eyes. They were wild, but mostly, red, as if the man had been crying. Kenji swallowed hard, not daring to think of anything.

Yahiko suddenly walked forward, making Kenji jump. Then, he grabbed his shoulders harder than he should have and looked at him dead in the eye.

"Kenhin. I mean your dad. He is back. He... he passed away."

Kenji's mind blanked. Who? Who had died? Could it be true?

"He died?" he managed to say.

Yahiko nodded, obviously holding back tears. The sight enraged Kenji. What right had this man to mourn his father? Had he been there for him more than he had been there for Kenji? Surely not. Suddenly raging, the boy broke free of Yahiko's hold and walked away.

"Good riddance."

Having said that, he started to practice again. As he did, he heard Yahiko sniff. He tightened his grip on his sword.

Yahiko knew of Kenji's hard feelings towards Kenshin. He had tried to change the boy's mind a thousand times but actions spoke louder than words and the stories of Kenshin's great deed had failed to fill the void left by the man's absence. But it hurt him to hear the boy speak such harsh words. Kenshin had been like a father to him, a model to look up to. He just wished that Kenji had understood it better. Of course, the boy was missing a big part of the story. Yahiko sighed. Now that Kenshin was dead, maybe his son would return to Tokyo.

"Kenji. Kaoru, your mother, is gravely sick."

"Because of him," spat the boy.

"She wishes to see you. Don't deny her this. It may be the last chance she has to see you..."

Kenji's knuckled whitened on his sword. He really wanted to go see her. He loved her and missed her very much. Yet he could not forgive her for having chosen her husband over her son. He knew his mother could have avoided Kenshin's affliction. She could have been healthy and strong now if she had listened to everyone and stayed away from him. But now she was dying. Dying. What a terrible thought.

"I...I can't... I..." he mumbled .

"He's going back to Tokyo," said a strong voice behind him.

Kenji turned around to see his master standing in the shade of the tree, his face expressionless as usual.

"But master! I need to..." protested the boy.

Before he could finish his sentence he was flying across the training field from the blow Hiko had given him with his sheathed sword. The elder walked to his pupil, towering over him menacingly.

"How dare you dishonour your parents! Your father has just passed and your mother's life is hanging by a thread! Your place is at her side. I surely did not teach you to betray your parents so!"

Without another word, Hiko walked away. Yahiko followed him back to the hut, leaving the boy alone in the dust with his master"s harsh but true words.