Kenshin managed -- just barely -- to prevent himself from yelping, "You mean there's more?!" at his shishou's calm announcement. Of course there's more, he acknowledged dejectedly, you still don't know why Meirou was doing that . . .that . . . that thing with her eyes. Sinking down onto a nearby stone, he reflected sourly that if Hiko had yet more information to impart, then this was the place to do it. The anatomy lecture had been delivered as they walked, their progress driven by his long-legged stride, Kenshin's wobbly legs notwithstanding. This clearing -- an open space around a small lake -- wasn't far from their modest cottage. It had often served them as a training site, although the lessons learned were usually of a more ordinary bent; life lessons rather than Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu.
"What's the matter now?" Hiko demanded, either unwilling or unable to let his pupil's glum expression pass without comment. "Baka deshi, attraction is part of the fun," his lips curved in another knowing grin, "In fact, there wouldn't be any fun if it weren't for attraction."
"Fun?" In contrast to his master's smug amusement, Kenshin's tone was both bitter and disapproving, "It doesn't sound terribly enjoyable so far. First she makes me uncomfortable, and then I hurt her." Resting his elbow on his knee, he propped his chin in the cup of his hand, the picture of morose discontent. "Either there's something you're not telling me, or . . ." the words trailed off as he shook his head, his body projecting an air of puzzlement and concern.
Hiko sighed, thinking -- not for the first time -- that the boy was too soft-hearted for his own good. He resisted the urge to pick the idiot up and shake him as he had earlier. Only my baka deshi would work himself into a frenzy of remorse over some girl he hasn't even met. Still, there was a tinge of pride in his exasperated thoughts. Better concerned than over eager or uncaring. "Baka deshi, men and women are far too selfish to repeatedly engage in something distasteful, simply to produce children. They're not all that rewarding," he looked pointedly at his hard-headed pupil, "this, on the other hand, is. --Why else would it be called the pleasure quarter, you moron? Am I going to have to take you there so you can see for yourself?!" Kenshin's expression changed instantly from disbelief to outright panic.
"No!" he all but shouted, straightening from his dismayed slouch and scrambling to appear calm and attentive. "I don't need a visual aide!" the low, indignant mutter marred the impression he was working for, as did the surly glance he aimed at his master. In response, the older man merely raised an eyebrow: Is that so? Grinding his teeth in frustration, his voice gravelly with anger and residual alarm, Kenshin prompted his shishou to continue: "Attraction?"
Chuckling, Hiko took a seat facing him, letting the jug dangle by its cord from his large hand, tossing its cork lightly in his palm as he spoke. "Aa. Attraction. It's why you react to some women and not to others -- why some of them make you nervous and others don't. Although, at your age," grinning, he snapped the cork high into the air, "probably most all of them make you nervous." It landed in his hand with a soft smack, punctuating this latest jab at his student.
Kenshin tried telling himself there was no reason to be shamed by his shishou's observation. He could count the number of women he'd met and spoken to in his short lifetime on one hand; the number of those that weren't old enough to be his mother on one finger. Of course they make me nervous! The unvoiced reassurance did nothing to combat his feelings of embarrassment, and he scowled in answer to the older man's smirk. Annoyingly, the smirk widened.
"Attraction is what makes you notice the color of her eyes or the way she wears her hair; it's what makes you remember her scent and the sound of her voice." Hiko's hold tightened on the cord, stopping the sake jug's lazy swing in order to raise it to his lips. His eyes glimmered with humor over the rounded clay, "It may make you uncomfortable -- it's what made you uncomfortable today -- but it also leads to one of life's most pleasurable experiences." The word pleasurable was emphasized, causing Kenshin to groan internally. Obviously, this was something his shishou would be harassing him about for some time to come.
Maybe if I ask questions, he'll stick to the point instead of taking side trips to humiliate me. A quick look at his master's face dispelled that hope. And maybe if you try really hard, you'll beat him during tomorrow's practice session. Both were about as likely. Nevertheless, Hiko seemed to be waiting for something. With extreme reluctance, Kenshin provided it. I hate being curious. "How?"
"Baka deshi, remember I told you that things change?" The boy nodded warily. "Without attraction, they don't. If they don't, the fun part isn't any fun. In fact, attempting it would be downright embarrassing. Wakaru ka?"
"Aa . . ." Well, not really . . . but if shishou thinks it's embarrassing, then I'm convinced. It was practically impossible to ruffle his master; anything that could flummox him must be truly awful.
"Che, it's one of the most humiliating things that can happen to a man!" Sano muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. It looked almost like he was pouting . . . or trying to hide. A moment later, as the profound silence around him registered, he wished fervently that he could. "Not that I'd know from personal experience," he added hastily.
Kenshin and Yahiko merely looked at him, their expressions identical and easy to read: Sure, Sano, whatever you say. We don't believe a word of it, but we'll humor you -- just this once.
"I don't!"
"Aa."
"I don't!"
"Shutup, baka, and let him get back to the story!"
"Kuso . . ." I can't believe I said that out loud . . .
Hiko could tell from the faint traces of confusion on Kenshin's face that he didn't really grasp what he'd been told. No matter -- he'd understand the first time he truly reacted to a woman. The boy very rarely forgot anything he'd been told; when his body made everything else self-explanatory, he'd remember this exchange and put the pieces together. Now for the particulars... "Each of us has our preferences -- physical traits which make some women more attractive to us than others." A half-nod in the direction of town served to indicate their earlier visit. "Judging by your reaction to Meirou, you're partial to raven hair and big eyes." And petite figures, but that's not much of a surprise.
Kenshin fidgeted a little, trying to discern if there was any implied criticism in Hiko's observation. A larger part insisted that there was a lot to be said for hair dark as sable and expressive, emotive eyes. Eyes bright as gemstones and surrounded by thick, dark lashes . . .
Shaking his head in mild annoyance, his pupil's vacant expression a clear indication that his attention had wandered, Hiko hit him square between his eyebrows with the thrown sake cork, nimbly catching it again as it rebounded from the boy's skull. "Pay attention!" he barked, satisfied to see Kenshin startled by the small projectile. The boy blinked, rubbing his forehead in an absent-minded manner, and nodded for Hiko to continue. "Now, just as men are drawn to certain traits in women, women are drawn to certain traits in men. Usually," he emphasized, as if to say the present company was excepted, "they seem to find muscles and height appealing. In your case . . . In your case, we'd probably have to ask Meirou."
Not this again! Kenshin glared wakizashi at his master. "I'll grow," he grated.
"I hope so . . . I'd hate to see Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu inherited by someone as scrawny as you are. It's an embarrassment."
"Shishou!" This time the familiar protest held just a hint of hurt.
"Baka deshi . . ." Hiko paused for a fraction of a second, then relented slightly, "It takes all the amusement out of poking at you if you're going to be offended rather than angry." He watched that sink in, saw the thin jaw clench in renewed annoyance. Better. "As I was saying, women suffer the whims of attraction the same as men. However, their response to it is a little more overt -- if a woman wants you, she'll take great care to ensure you want her, too. At first, it's fairly innocent: She'll try to draw attention to her eyes or her hair, maybe her mouth, because she knows these are things that we notice." Kenshin's eyes widened in sudden realization. "She'll try to coax you into complimenting her, so she can tell whether or not you're merely humoring her, or are genuinely interested. They're actually quite devious about it."
Kenshin wasn't sure, but thought he heard grudging approval in his shishou's voice. He swallowed, finding that to be just a little frightening. But at least Meirou is starting to make some sense . . .
"Now listen, baka deshi, this is important." Hiko's gaze was serious, his voice losing most of its jocular tone. "What draws you to a woman initially may be her hair or her eyes or her figure. What keeps your interest should be something more. Physical attraction has its place, but if that's all you feel, you're better off visiting one of the houses in the pleasure quarter. Girls like Meirou are after a different type of relationship when they try to catch your attention." Raising the sake jug for another drink, he scanned his pupil's face, sighing in disgust at the question there. "Marriage, baka deshi, marriage. Unless she's merely teasing, she's looking at you as prospective marriage material."
"Marriage! Demo . . ." Kenshin let what he'd been about to say trail off, suspecting that his master would think it foolish; hopelessly romantic at best. Still, he didn't think one person should marry another simply because he liked the color of her eyes. There should be other reasons -- better reasons -- too.
"Aa," the single word acknowledged protests both spoken and not, "Which is why physical attraction isn't enough. Before you seek comfort outside the pleasure quarter, best be sure you're attracted to her, not just her body." Hiko leveled a stern finger at his pupil, "If and when you ever marry, you're free to make your own choice as to who. Make sure you make it a good one. She should be someone you enjoy being with; someone you can talk to. Preferably, someone with a brain." He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "Take a good look at how she ties her obi, I find it helps."
For a moment, Kenshin simply stared at his shishou, trying to make sense of the older man's cryptic advice. When that proved unsuccessful, he burst out, "Her obi?! What does her obi have to do with anything?!"
"Have you seen how complex those things can get?" Hiko responded, the humor returning to his voice and manner, "Tying one has got to be difficult. It stands to reason that the more complicated it is, the smarter she's likely to be. And failing that," he winked, leaning back again, "at least you know she's good with her hands."
Good with her hands?! Kaoru reminded herself that the opinions Kenshin was relating were not his own, and he didn't need to be smacked for them. Hiko Seijuurou, on the other hand, was long overdue his comeuppance for that obi-as-an-indication-of-intelligence crack. Does he really believe that?! Or was it something he said simply to confound his student?! Whichever it was . . . mmmmrrra! Her fingers curled in impotent rage as she mimed throttling the insufferable man.
On the other side of the partition, Sano had laughed himself breathless over Hiko's unfounded observation. Kenshin and Yahiko were silent, obviously waiting for the ex-gangster to gain control of himself.
"I just," he gasped, amusement still stuttering in his throat, "I just can't believe he actually said that!"
"I don't get it," Yahiko injected in a somewhat disgruntled tone of voice, "What's so funny?"
Too lighthearted to tease him about his ignorance, Sano willingly -- even eagerly -- began to explain, "If she's good with her hands then--"
"That's enough, Sano!" Kenshin hastily interrupted, "It was just a joke, Yahiko. A very bad joke."
"I thought it was a damn good joke," Sano protested.
"And I still don't get it!" Yahiko added.
"Maa, maa..."
"Never mind, Yahiko, I'll explain it some other time. When our shy little rurouni isn't around."
"Oro?"
"You heard me. And don't think I didn't notice how red your face was when you stopped me." Sano grinned, his expression uncannily similar to the one Hiko had worn so long ago.
It must be the joke, Kenshin decided, shaking his head slightly to clear the image. The other two were watching him expectantly. "What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? Go on, finish your story." Yahiko answered.
"Ano... there really isn't anything else to tell..."
Kenshin eyed his master suspiciously, "Good with her hands?" Hiko's lips twitched, his eyes gleaming a little too eagerly as he opened his mouth to elaborate. "Never mind! Never mind, I don't want to know!" Disappointment flickered briefly across the older man's face. It wasn't often that Kenshin managed to fend off one of his jokes. "I'll just wait and find out later." His shishou chuckled at that.
"Aa. I suspect you will." Tapping the cork back into the sake jug, Hiko rose to his feet, stretching lazily as he looked down at his pupil.
"Is that it?" The question was both surprised and relieved.
"Baka deshi, hopefully you'll figure the rest out as it happens to you." One eyebrow arched sardonically, "Even you should be able to tell when you're attracted, and how to behave afterwards." The boy nodded absently, thoughtfully, failing -- for once -- to rise to the bait. He grinned. "Aa. Think about it -- but don't take all night. We have training in the morning, and you're clumsy enough without being half asleep."
"Hai . . ." Kenshin rose slowly to his feet, his voice as distracted as his manner. What do they do with their hands?
Hiko sighed. Taunting him now would be no fun at all. "Come on, baka deshi, it's past time to be home. You can think while we walk." His footsteps crunched over the gravel around the lake, his pupil following behind him at a less purposeful pace.
There was a lot for Kenshin to ponder: the mysteries of the female anatomy, attraction and consequences, flirting . . . and the possibility that life held more than practice and his shishou's biting humor. Dark hair, and expressive eyes.
Thinking about it, the young man smiled.
Author's Notes:
Index of Japanese terms:
Sekihara Tae
tae@sekihara.dreamhost.com
April 20, 1999