#it’s so incredibly rough compared to my usual standards since I did this between classes 😬

[fistfuloflightning]

because I need some mental support for the emotional trauma that surely awaits in the newest chapter of From Our Soiled Hearts, have some wedding wish fulfillment fluff from its happier, less emotionally taxing but no less satisfying sister Silence Withered in Spring, also by the wonderfully talented @limitbreaker23 💕

[cripplingaddictions]

Bakugo x Reader: Confession

Summary: After Bakugo’s mental breakdown with Midoriya outside the dorms, you take it upon yourself to get him to open up. Of course it isn’t easy, but you two had known each other for years. Bakugo realises how he really feels and claims you as his own.

Rating: SFW

Genre: Fluff, angst, lime

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: I love comfort fluff and tending to wound tropes... and I also used the headcanon that Bakugo needs hearing aids, so that is included in this fic. I’m also sorry about the slow updates... I’ll have some headcanons out for haikyuu in the new future so stay tuned!

The crisp night air flooded through the open windows as you held a warm drink in your chilly hands. A fluffy blank landed on your shoulders as Mina deposited them off to everyone. You shifted yourself to meet Mina’s extraordinary eyes, nodding in thanks. Mina returned with a cheery smile of her own.

All the girls of 1A populated the couches, basking in the much needed warmth. A few boys sat amongst you, such as Kaminari, Kirishima, Ojiro, and Sero. Mineta desperately cried for help, wrapped in a cocoon of Sero’s tape after a perverted comment directed at Momo. Todoroki did as he always did, awkwardly standing slightly adjacent to the lively group, a keen but kind eye flickering between classmates as they contributed to the conversation.

“Everyone!” Iida marched up to your group, “Leaving the windows open in this weather is incredibly irresponsible! You will all get a cold!” His rapidly chopping hands paused momentarily to hurriedly pull all the windows shut.

“Thanks, emergency exit!” Kirishima waved at the class representative. A satisfied expression washed over Iida’s face.

You rolled your eyes, slightly smiling at them, before taking a prolonged sip of your warm beverage. Without spilling it, you pulled your legs up on the couch to cross them.

The class was happily celebrating a successful hero licensing exam. All but Bakugo and Todoroki. Hagakure and Momo had insisted they could join you too. It didn’t surprise you that Todoroki showed up but Bakugo didn’t, for one of them took it a lot worse than the other.

Bakugo was your childhood friend, knowing him since forever. There wasn’t a time you didn’t know each other, but not quite outdating him knowing Midoriya. You never really announced yourselves as “friends”, per se. It more so happened by consistently interacting, never really introducing yourselves. One of those friendships that “just happened”, neither of you remembering when you really met each other. Turns out, your mothers had been friends for years prior.

As you two grew older, and Bakugo became more and more like... himself, you did not condemn for anything he would say to Midoriya, being quirkless. Luckily, you happened to manifest a fairly powerful quirk, so he never judged you for it. He could never find himself to explode at you whenever you told him to back off. He may yell, but it never went further than petty insults. Of course, Mitsuki would have been appalled with him if he did. She definitely had a soft spot for you.

Once starting at UA, Bakugo’s ego slowly but surely began to deflate. He began to obtain standards, something that surprised you plenty. You noticed how he acted around Kirishima. That was when you realised the difference between how he treated all his peers. He seemed to rank them - most worthy of his friendship and time to least. Upon witnessing Kirishima - someone pretty high in those “ranks” - interact with him, you noticed the outside perspective. How nice he was to you and Kirishima, compared to people like Midoriya.

Eventually, you grew an odd feeling in your chest whenever he showed up to class. Top buttons undone and without a tie. Or when you caught a glimpse of his ember swirling eyes. Not to mention during training, rocking up in that hero costume of his.

You even began to play a little game. Testing him to see how long you could pester, order, or genuinely annoy him before he literally exploded at you. More and more of late, that time stretched. Unfortunately, your little experiment didn’t go unnoticed. All the girls of 1A knew, questioning you about it. You passed it off as something you thought would be funny. Only Mina saw right through you. She knew you liked him and constantly teased you about it to no end. Midoriya and Kirishima were the only others to notice you pushing his buttons more than usual lately.

Uraraka’s voice broke through your elaborate train of thought, “Y/N...”

“Yeah?” You answered.

“Do you have any idea where Deku is?” Her voice trembled slightly, her cheeks going slightly pinker as she rubbed the back of her neck. She couldn’t be more obvious about her crush on Midoriya, so you had nothing to worry about. “He hasn’t come back since Bakugo said he wanted to talk to him. I’m kind of worried about him.”

A huff left your lips, “In all honesty, I am too. There’s no telling what Bakugo wanted to talk to him about.”

“He might be seeking girl advice,” Mina chimed in, sending a sly wink in your direction.

You immediately took a long sip of your drink, hoping the cup hid your slight blush as you furrowed your eyebrows at Mina.

“I highly doubt it,” Tsuyu placed a finger to her chin in thought, “I’m not sure that Bakugo would need that kind of advice. Especially not from Midoriya.” Your gaze fell.

“He probably wants to kill him,” Jirou shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip from her own drink.

Jirou’s comment silenced the group of 1A girls. Only condescending sipping of drinks and the guys chattering filled your ears. Your attention left your drink to the sound of shuffling feet approaching. Bright yellow eyes met yours when the source of the shuffling feet sat beside you.

“Ladies,” Kaminari’s smooth voice wooed as he rested his arms on the back of the couch, “What’re you guys talking about?”

Dyed red hair, held up by a graphic bandana, flashed your peripheral vision as Kirishima took a seat next to you. He pouted slightly when you flashed him an almost sarcastic smile. The pout couldn’t mask that he could see right through you. Worry for Bakugo plagued your mind. There was no doubt Midoriya had improved his ability to use his quirk. If Bakugo had indeed wanted to fight him, he definitely underestimated him.

“I’m sure he’s just in bed, Y/N,” Kirishima placed a hand on your shoulder, “It is way past eight-thirty.”

You stifled a small giggle, nodding at Kirishima’s words and mentally thanked him for his optimistic nature. You continued to sip your drink in silence, occasionally tuning in to Mina and Kaminari’s chaotic conversation. Overall, you felt the homeliness of this family created through 1A. A homeliness soon to be destroyed.

A loud bang caused everyone to close their mouths, the worst case scenario filled your head. Luckily, when you followed it to its source, it came to a slammed door. An easy answer came to your mind; the wind. However, standing before the door stood Bakugo and Midoriya. Both definitely looking a bit rough around the edges. A gauze on each cheek, they looked defeated. They refused to reach each other’s eyes, or any other pair staring them.

You cautiously planted your cup on the coaster before you, as if you were afraid of agitating Bakugo, easily spotting the anger and emotion in his ruby eyes.

“Bakugo and Midoriya!” Iida rushed over to them in a flash, his arms chopping up and down in anger, “Where on earth have you been? Why do you look like you just got into another brawl with some villains?”

“Shut the hell up, four-eyes,” Bakugo snapped, grumbling to himself. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, before storming past the couches.

Before anyone could stop you, you leapt to your feet. Your drink left behind, you rushed after Bakugo. The blanket around your shoulders flowed behind you like a cape, you called out to the angry blond, “Bakugo!”

Bakugo ignored you, continuing up the stairs. Hurriedly, you sped up the stairs and overtook him.

Your body blocked his, “Bakugo, what the hell happened?”

His head continued to hang low, his blond hair falling to obscure his eyes from view as you desperately tried to meet them. Scratches, grazes and cuts littered his face and arms, some covered up with gauze. The two gauzes on his cheeks mirrored each other, lightly stained in blood. Dust and dirt smudged up his arms; his wounds weren’t properly cleaned. His hands stuffed in his baggy sweatpants shook slightly, from both physical and emotional pain.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Bakugo’s wavering voice protested, failing at any attempted aggression, “I don’t need to tell you shit.”

You heaved in a shaky breath, “True, but I want to know. I might be able to help you.”

“You can’t help me,” his voice raised, causing you to step back. You really wished you could see his eyes, to see what kind of pain he was in.

“You won’t know that until you tell me what’s wrong,” you sighed, trying your best to stay calm and not snap back.

“Get out of my way...”

Bakugo harshly barged his shoulder into yours, causing you to stumble to the side slightly. You stepped after him as he continued to his dorm, the most likely place you imagined he would storm off to. You caught up again, flinging an arm out in front of him. His warm, sweaty hand latched onto your forearm. Your heart skipped a beat, relishing the ironically soft touch.

However, the softness of his touch contradicted his tone, “Y/N, move... right now...”

“Bakugo!” You cried, not afraid of the slightly startled boy before you. 

You didn’t budge or flinch as you laced your fingers between the ones he gripped onto your forearm with. With a soft touch, you lifted his chin upwards to get a perfect view of his face. 

His cut up face held the softest expression you had ever seen. No crease sat between his eyebrows, grazes over his forehead. The gauzes taped to his cheeks hid the worst of his face injuries, letting a small amount of blood to seep through it. His eyes glistened with tears, about to be spilt. They stung red, from previous tears.

Katsuki Bakugo stood before you, with tears in his eyes.

The Katsuki Bakugo.

“You can tell me, you know,” You hushed, once his bloodshot eyes met your sympathetic ones, “I’ve always been there for you, like when you got your hearing aids.”

One hand still holding his, you let the other one slip up to expose the small black device in his left ear. It wrapped around the back, resting behind his ear. A soft sympathetic smile graced your features, as Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut. He entered a vulnerable state, allowing you to wrap an arm around his lower neck and pull him into a hug.

“Please...” You whispered, “It’s better if you let it all out.”

Bakugo awkwardly stepped out of the hug, slipping his hand out of your grip. His eyebrows creased again, squinting his eyes to hold back any tears. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and refused to meet your eyes again.

“I’m just fucking pissed!” He raised his voice again, “I’m pissed at myself. At damn Deku! How did he become someone so damn special? And I didn’t!? When I finally get fucking recognised for something... it’s because I ended All Might! Why me?”

Your breath hitched. All of Bakugo’s pain unloaded onto you. All Might’s end happened a small while ago. He held this guilt in for that long? No wonder he was angry. In a way, you felt privileged and relieved Bakugo opened up to you. You always tried to be there for him. You wished you could have been there earlier, to stop him ever feeling like this in the first place.

“Bakugo...” You hushed his uneven breathing. It almost sounded like he was about to have a panic attack, “You couldn’t have prevented it. No one knew that it was going to happen. The last person who should be blaming themselves is you.”

“I could have done something! All I did was stand and watch. I left as soon as I saw you call out to me. Damn it!”

“Look at me, Bakugo,” digging into his pockets, you removed his hands from them and held them in your own, “If you didn’t leave when I called you, not only All Might would have ended. You would have too. And I don’t know what I would ever do if you did.”

A sharp inhale came from Bakugo’s parted lips, before he trailed off, “Da-damn it...”

“I care about you, Baku,” you let your thumbs run small uncoordinated circles on the back of his warm veiny hands. You couldn’t force yourself to look into his eyes, afraid of how he would respond. “I care more than you can ever imagine.”

“I- I-, fuck...” He couldn’t form sentences, let alone words. You, of course, couldn’t blame him. Not only because of his current emotional state, but you knew it would take a little bit more to get something so sincere out of Bakugo.

“It’s okay,” you finally met his red eyes, trying to mask the glossiness of your own, “It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings... I won’t take it too harshly.”

A small cocky grin slid its way onto Bakugo’s disheartened features, “Who said I didn’t, baka.”

Little giggles left your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck. A newfound sense of confidence filled you. Not only did you let the burden of your confession lift off your chest, but he reciprocated the feelings. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina all about it.

“Now...” All sadness and sorrow had drained from Bakugo, a sudden huskiness melted off his words, “Let me claim you as mine.”

“Wait, wha-” Without warning, Bakugo cut you off by pushing you forward towards the elevator at the end of the corridor. A small laugh left you again upon witnessing the determination - no matter what it was for - return to Bakugo. The Katsuki Bakugo you knew and loved was back.

Without letting go of your wrist, Bakugo frantically pressed the elevator button, “Hurry up, you damn elevator!”

“Yelling at it want make it come faster, you know.”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Once the elevator pinged, the doors slid open. Bakugo rushed you inside, turning around to watch as the doors slid shut again. No words were spoken, both of you urgently watching the elevator travel up to the level his dorm stood located in. You adjusted your hand in Bakugo’s grip, only for him to squeeze your hand tighter. The small action caused a tiny smile to tug at your lips in satisfaction. Damn, it felt good to finally have him.

The travelling between the elevator and Bakugo’s dorms happened so quickly it was all a blur. The only thing you knew was the sound of the door slamming behind you, before you were back up against the wall beside it.

Bakugo’s rough, calloused hands pinned your wrists to your side. There was no time to protest before the gap between you two closed. Your lips roughly fought against his a loosing battle. His lips felt chapped but soft at the same time. The taste of nitroglycerin lingered between your lips, the smell of caramel wafting into your nostrils. His hands let go of your wrists, finding a new home firmly on your hips only to press you further against the wall. Hands now free, they rushed into his hair. Silky blond locks weaved in and out of your fingers before you ran them down his neck to grip his shoulders.

The tickling of his tongue on your bottom lip begged your lips open, allowing it to slip inside your mouth. You desperately fought against his rough movements, only to lose. He took complete dominance as he slipped a knee between your thighs and propped you even further up the wall. In retaliation, you wrapped your legs around his waist, so he supported your full weight. Your crotch shamelessly pressed against his lower abdomen.

A gasp left your mouth as his warm hands glided up your curves and beneath your shirt. Bakugo’s skilled fingers ran patterns on the soft skin of your back, sending countless satisfied shivers up your spine. Your mouths continued to move in sink as his fingers slid along the skin just beneath your bra. The moan that escaped your mouth sent a wicked smirk onto Bakugo’s lips. Without warning, Bakugo’s lips left yours and attached to the soft skin of your jaw. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to trail kisses down the curve of your neck. At the same time, one of his hands ran to the clasp of your bra. He fiddled with it, desperately trying to unclasp it before he gave up and detached his warm mouth from your neck.

“Damn it,” his warm moist breath tickled your neck, “How does this shitty thing work?”

You let a laugh leave your lips as you arched your back for your own hands to slip up your shirt. In an instant, you had detached it. The bra lacked straps, causing it to immediately drop to the floor.

A growl left Bakugo as he began sucking on the soft flesh of your neck. His warm, wet tongue pressed and flicked against it. The occasional sensation of his teeth grazing over your neck made a shiver slide up your spine. Bakugo’s large hands travelled back to the front, fanning over you exposed breasts. They travelled over them until he lightly fondled them in his hand, squeezing gently. Your hands on his shoulders quickly gripped onto the fabric of his black tank top. One of his thumbs flicked over your hardened nipple, causing his name to fall from your mouth in a pleasurable moan.

Bakugo greedily grunted, whispering against your neck, “Yeah, I like that, Y/N...”

His tongue continued to trail over your skin, sucking and flicking until he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open, leaning down to press your forehead against his. Slowly, Bakugo’s hands trailed back down your sides and pulled out of your shirt. Your feet made it safely back down to the ground. When you attempted to meet Bakugo’s eyes, you found them trailing over purple bruises covering your neck, continuing up to the start of your jaw.

“Now you’re mine,” Bakugo brought you into a safe hug, letting you rest your head into the crevice of his neck. Your eyes squeezed shut again, delving yourself completely into his sent of caramel.

“As far as first kisses go,” you teased, letting a cheeky grin slide onto your face, “that wasn’t half bad.”

“Damn well, it wasn’t half bad!” His voice lifted higher, a familiar angry tone taking over. An even bigger smile came to your face once you realised he had almost completely forgotten the predicament he was in previously. “That better have been the best kiss ever!”

A little string of laughs left you, “Yeah, yeah. It was the best. You got me there.”

The silence continued for a little longer, until Bakugo retreated out of the hug. He cleared his throat before turning away from you. You took the opportunity to rush to his mirror, observing the damage he had done. A dozen or so purple hickies littered across your neck. They travelled all the way to your jaw and almost your ears. It would take a lot of foundation to cover those up, you thought.

“I’m definitely yours, it seems,” you turned to Bakugo, who only grunted, “I almost look as beat up as you.”

“I’m fine,” came his reply.

“You still need to clean those wounds and cover them up.”

“I don’t need Recovery Girl.”

“No, we shouldn’t bother Recovery Girl right now. I’d be happy to do it for you in the girls bathroom. Mr Aizawa is long gone, don’t worry about him catching us.”

“What about your annoying extras?”

“If any of the girls come in, I’m sure they’ll understand and make a pretty quick exit. I promise.”

Bakugo huffed in reply as you tilted your head in the direction of the door. You made your way to the door. As you reached out for the door handle, a bundle of black was thrown at you.

“Cover up, damn it,” Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and joined you by the door, “You don’t even have a bra on.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hurriedly unfolded the black clothing item, to find it was one of Bakugo’s plain black hoodies. You slipped it over your head and let it drop down a little further than your hoodies usually would. Caramel scent engulfed you, making it clear it hadn’t been washed since the last wear. Normally, that would disgust you, but it was your boyfriend’s. You plotted how long you were going to hold onto it in your head as you bundled the hood around your neck.

You gestured to yourself, only to receive a shrug from Bakugo. The shrug couldn’t hide the tiny reddish tint on his cheeks from the sight of you in his clothes. A victorious smile made it to your face, and you opened the door.

The journey to the girl’s bathrooms was uninterrupted. You led him there, linking pinkies the whole way. He hesitated to walk through the door, after all it was the female bathroom. The door shut suddenly behind you as you pointed Bakugo to sit on the bathroom counter. Swinging open the cabinet above the sink, you pulled out a small box of first aid supplies. You placed you hands on your hips after allocating the box a spot next to Bakugo.

“Take your shirt off,” you demanded, the authoritative tone desperately hiding the redness of your ears.

“Why?” Bakugo grumbled, mocking you with arms crossed.

“So I can see if you have any further injuries,” You opened the first aid box, pulling out a dry rag. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Bakugo lifting his tank top over his head to reveal his toned chest and abs as you ran cold water over the rag. Wringing it of excess water, you turned to see him checking himself over for any injuries.

“Nothing,” Bakugo bluntly replied.

“Yes, but your ribs are bruised,” you pointed at the green patches of flesh along his sides. The mirror didn’t indicate any wounds or bruises on his back. Without warning, you dragged the moist rag over the bruises. A few droplets of water rolled down his chiseled stomach as he pulled back.

“That shit is cold!” Bakugo exclaimed, “I’m getting wet now, damn it!”

“It’s a rag with water, what did you expect?” You hummed, continuing to trace the bruised ribs softly with the rag. You leaned over the counter to grab hold of his closest hand, resting your sover it. “Stay still.”

Once you had finished, you gently gripped one of his forearms. The cloth traced his skin, washing it clean. You had to scrub it softly at some points, but avoided any of the open grazes and cuts. You travelled the cloth to run over his biceps, this time lightly dabbing at the largest graze. Your skilled hands couldn’t hide the blush on your face, especially with his fiery eyes watching your every move. They occasionally shifted to your concentrated features.

The cloth quickly passed over his shoulders and chest, before repeating the process on his other arm. This one wasn’t as scratched up as the other, making your job a lot simpler. Once you finished, you took a step back over to the sink.

“You’re probably gonna hate what I’m about to do,” you sighed, wringing out the rag after rinsing it.

“What are you gonna do?” He demanded, less agitated than he usually would be.

You didn’t answer with words but with your actions. Stopping the dripping of the rag, you dragged it around the gauze on his cheek. His hand swiped up, grabbing your wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.

“Die shitty rag! How dare you come near my face!”

A full hearted laugh left your lips, your head tilting back, “I’m trying to help you, baka. Please let me.”

Bakugo studied your face for a short while, until he ripped his eyes away, “Fine.” He left his cheek exposed, letting you place the rag back onto it. All the dust and ash had been scrubbed from his cheeks and nose. You softly dragged the rag over his forehead, softly dabbing it over a shallow graze. Once, your hand pulled away, you leaned up to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Are you done?” Bakugo rolled his eyes, pressing his bare back against the mirror.

You shook your head, “Nope. Not even close.” You placed the damp rag in the sink, digging around in the first aid box again. Bakugo groaned in annoyance, causing you to smile and shake your head again.

Cold plastic slipped between your finger tips - a small bottle of antiseptic. Pulling it out, you placed a few cotton balls next to it. Carefully, you dropped a small amount of antiseptic onto the cotton ball. You lifted it towards Bakugo, who grimaced at the sight.

“I can’t promise this won’t hurt,” you hissed in empathy, hesitantly detaching he hand from the counter. Pulling his arm closer, you dabbed the cotton ball onto one of the shallow grazes on his forearm.

Bakugo immediately pulled back, “Antiseptic can die!” You smiled, knowing that was his way of saying that it stung.

“It’s gonna sting a little bit,” you rolled your eyes, “I did tell you that.”

Your hand swiped out to grab his wrist in it again as he constantly ripped it away, “Katsuki Bakugo! It’ll get infected and hurt even more if you don’t let me do this!” You exclaimed in a playful seriousness.

“Say that again,” the grimace on Bakugo!s face dropped, his features now softer.

“It’ll get infected?”

“No, baka. My name.”

“Your name? Katsuki Bakugo?”

The smirk on his face now unmistakable, he placed a hand on your waist, “Yeah, call me Katsuki. I like when you say my name.”

A similar smirk crossed your face as you placed a hand over his on your waist. Without warning him, you took the cotton ball and frantically dabbed it onto the next graze. Katsuki grunted, whipping his arm out of your reach.

His eyes remained glued in the victimised graze, “What the hell? That was a dirty trick!”

“It worked, though,” you replied, drenching a new cotton ball in antiseptic, “That’s all that matters.”

“Whatever.”

Eventually, he gave up fighting against you, allowing you to finish applying antiseptic to grazes and cuts on his arms and shoulders without much fuss. You left the injuries covered by the gauze on his cheeks alone, immediately tending to the largest and most tender graze on his forehead. With your free hand, you pushed back his blond hair that shaded it. You kept that hand lovingly caressing the start of his hairline, while the other hesitantly dabbed at the graze.

Katsuki hissed through his teeth, causing you to slip your hand down the side of his face. You held his cheek in your palm and sent him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you placed the cotton ball down into the small pile of used ones under Katsuki’s observant gaze.

“I think I’m going to leave that one exposed. It needs to dry out to heal properly,” you explained thoroughly. A grunt left Katsuki as you pulled out more gauzes and a roll of bandage.

After a silent moment, you had successfully wrapped up his entire right forearm in a bandage. A large gauze covered a wide but shallow graze on his left shoulder and a couple of smaller ones littered over some small ones on his left bicep.

As you began to quietly pack up the first aid box, you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist. You stood on your tippy-toes to place it back in the cabinet, only for the limbs to wrap around you tighter. Katsuki’s breathtaking red eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, where you swayed in his arms in contentment.

“When I’m let off this shitty house arrest,” Katsuki grumbled into your marked neck from your previous activities, “I’m taking you out.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, leaning your head against his, “I’d love to, Katsuki.”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

A giggle left your lips, leaving both of you happy as you stood in each other’s arms.

[sesshatetsuko]

Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction : See you in life Beyond -Chapter 4-

Summary : For as long as he remembers, life had never been easy for him. So when carefully-buried memories are brutally awakened, the worst can happen... * A canon post-Jinchuu story, depicting how Kenshin tries to survive his inner demons, and how he and Kaoru finally became a family...* (rated M)

To find previous chapters, just search for #fanfiction on this blog!

Sitting in seiza at the end of the training room so as not to disturb the endless flow of shinai, the wanderer was watching attentively the activity under his eyes. Kaoru was training students of Maekawa dojo in addition to her own. As a result Yahiko was redoubling of effort, proud of his master's teachings and eager to show his technical superiority against the opposing school. Sweat, quick gestures and kiai cries filled the air.

Giving lessons for another dojo allowed the young kendoka to support as much as possible the needs of the house, helped in this task by her only disciple, who although unable to pay for his lessons participated in living together by bringing a little money from his work at the Akabeko. Sanosuke, on his side, sometimes helped as a docker at Yokohama Port, his imposing physique allowing him to carry heavy loads. Thanks to this livelihood he was able to finance things like his nocturnal escapades. Above that, he had recently developed a strange fascination for ships coming back from abroad, and all the stories of unknown countries swimming with them...

Only Kenshin, unemployed, was out of step compared to his young companions.

Having always experienced poverty as a child and then wandered for more than 10 years as a penniless and homeless wanderer did not do anything to help things. He had lived so long without thinking about the next day, indifferent to the fact that his own death could happen from one moment to another, that changing his way of life now that he had settled at Kamiya dojo was very difficult. In fact, he had to relearn everything, having absolutely no personal reference of standard family life. Thus, if surviving had become one of his specialties, money remained a mysterious data for him, since absent during most of his existence. As a result, he had trouble caring for it, associating it personally neither with need nor with happiness.

Kaoru seemed to understand this, since she never pushed him in that direction, and for this he was secretly grateful to her. He had tried to look into it, but ... what could he do? His level of writing and reading was barely passable and he had only learned the art of the katana, developed more particularly that of murder, a perfectly useless competence in this new Meiji era he had sweated blood and tears to build. He did not want to transmit the Hiten Mitsurugi (his own youthful failure regarding the values that his teacher wanted to teach him was damaging enough), and the professions of policeman or bodyguard had proven to be a formidable stimulant for his innate assassin reflexes that he desperately tried to bury. Not to mention the fact that he did not like to go away of the dojo for a long time after the traumatic incident of Enishi, and that sometime, his body began to make him pay for all of his swordsmanship years...

Finally, this one might not be suitable for this new era ...

He focused his gaze again on the young students before him, and on the life that emerged from them. Basically it did not matter to him to be obsolete, if these people could know the happiness of a peaceful life. That was the reason he had fought for and would fight again.

Kaoru was in the center of the room, and she was performing a series of kata demonstrations for her students. She was lifting her shinai at full speed, hitting her arms and hips in different directions, her feet resting each time in very particular points on the ground. These were traditionally rigorously codified exercises where each gesture mattered.

Although he had initially come to see her out of sheer curiosity when he arrived at the dojo, Kenshin's eyes had become much less innocent since he had begun to develop feelings for her. Because if the young woman was just emerging from adolescence, his own adult life was already well under way, and his body was often painfully reminding him of that... which had earned him to this day many cold water buckets, meditation sessions and other nocturnal baths. Worse, since he had started courting her without allowing himself to touch her, training sessions had literally turned to torture. To see her waving fiercely in this low necked man's outfit, sometimes revealing her tightly bandaged chest, was enough to bring his blood on fire. Moreover, her incredible agility made him wonder what kind of acrobatic positions they could u... -Kenshin took a deep, long breath.

This one will definitely have to go back to the river ...

Chasing these ideas did put his self-control yet strong at severe test. Himura was also careful not to stare at the young kendoka too intensely, for fear of frightening her with the ardor of his thoughts. Concealment was after all a specialty among assassins. Kaoru was executing the movements with precision, causing her slim yet robust body to be covered with a thin layer of sweat, which slid down her neck and lower.

The river, the cold river ...

While Kenshin was struggling internally, all the students seemed captivated by the current demonstration. The master of Kamiya Kasshin performed kendo with a grace and tenacity inherited from her father. All except a boy who was standing aside, a pout on his face, apparently bored by all fo this.

She seemed to have noticed it since it was to him that she spoke first.

"Gyôsei, come to reproduce the exercise, I will mime your partner"

" Why me?" He replied, exaggerating his grimace.

He doesn't seem to want to work this morning, his master noted irritably.

"You're lucky she's the one taking care of you," Yahiko replied, waving his shinai. If you don't want to do any more katas, I'll be happy to be your opponent and kick your ass, idiot! "

If slackers were people of the worst kind for the brave first Kamiya Kasshin disciple, men who were not interested in martial arts were just downright aliens.

"Stop arguing, boys!" Kaoru continued without losing her concentration. "Come on Gyôsei, put yourself in position. "

The young man reluctantly complied. He began to realize his series of movement awkwardly, the assistant master reproducing them identically in front of him, then quickly lost patience. Kaoru countered every shot, but Gyôsei became more and more abrupt and rough in his gestures. After a while, clearly angry at having been put to work and ridiculing himself in front of his classmates, he aimed a shoot that was not intended in the choreography directly at his teacher's ribs. The young woman, although surprised, saw his attempt and narrowly dodged him, but the aggressive gesture did not go unnoticed by the redhead sitting in the back of the room, who had suddenly raised his head.

"Well," Kaoru noted, "you still lack coordination ..."

"Pfff ... what's the use of learning these choreographies? It's not even a real fight! "

"It's you who are the real moron! argued Yahiko who was regretting not having previously kicked the damn boy's ass "If you cannot even master that you'll never be able to fight! These are the basics, the ba-si-cs! "

The two boys stared at each other fiercely. Meanwhile, the wanderer had risen from the corner of the room, unbeknownst to everyone.

"Gyôsei, right?" He said with a smile. "You do not seem to have really grasped the concept of kata. "

" ...What do you mean? "

Why does it matter to him? If even the housekeeper of the dojo comes to annoy me now! Gyôsei already had no desire to come to class, only obeying the order of his parents, but if in addition everyone fell on him ...

"That stroke at the ribs was not in the demonstration. "

The boy clenched his teeth, displeased that his little hanky-panky was noticed.

"So what... ? "

"This one will be your partner. "

Without waiting for his answer, the samurai grabbed a training sword hanging from the wall. Gyôsei looked at him with a hint of apprehension. He had never noticed how callused his hands were, nor that his usually high-pitched, even feminine voice could become so low. Not to mention, did he not have a sword hung on his hip? The impulsive boy was suddenly intimidated by this scarred man with tawny hair, who had suddenly decided to take part in their training...He had been coming at the Kamiya dojo for some time now and from memory this guy was only satisfied to observe them without speaking, occasionally smiling in a honeyed or even silly way. If only he had been told that this man could do something other than cooking or washing laundry...

"Are you sure, Kenshin?" The young kendoka wondered. "It's really not worth it ..."

This is the first time he ever gets involved in one of my classes! He has never accepted to train with me, or even to give advice to Yahiko before...

"This one insists. "

He put himself in position immediately, to everyone's surprise. The students had spontaneously formed a small circular group around them, curious to see the abilities of the redhead who lived with their master. As for Kaoru, she was as shocked as her students.

"Hajime! "

His voice was definitely not honeyed, and Gyosei felt for a moment the dark authority of a powerful ki. He resumed his kata, this time reproducing it very carefully. The wanderer dodged all his blows without any difficulty, not bothering to lift his shinai or even change the position of his body. Then, half-way through the exercise, at the exact moment when he had previously tried to hit the kendoka at her ribs, the samurai vigorously pressed his foot between the boy's and mowed his leg with a dry gesture. Gyôsei crashed face down at full speed.

"Kenshin!" Kaoru immediately glared daggers at him.

The boy got up with difficulty, surprised at his sudden fall, having seen absolutely nothing. He would probably be rewarded later by a good bump on the head.

"Hey, that -that was not planned!" He groaned, rubbing his chin where a small hematoma was already forming.

"You deserved it!" Replied Yahiko, openly laughing. He, too, had not missed the gesture tempted against his master just now.

"A kenjutsuka must be ready for any eventuality. "The redhead calmly replied, hanging up the shinai on the wall. "That's why it is helpful to be focused on any exercise, as basic as it appears. "

The former Master of the Kamiya Kasshin gave him a complicit but accusing look.

He did it on purpose ...

She came near the samurai, partly amused by his possessive reaction and partly annoyed by his hint of authority and the punitive gesture that followed against her disciple.

"Kenshin," she murmured, "I'm able to correct my own students by myself. "

"This one knows, that he does. "

"Don't try to play the innocent with me..."

"Oro? Please forgive me, Kaoru-dono. This one will resume cleaning." He said, scratching his head, adopting a resilient posture. Challenging a kendo teacher in her own school was never a good idea.

"You'd better! "

The class then resumed to a normal rhythm, and the pupils of the Maekawa dojo as much as the one of the Kamiya dojo, redoubled their ardor in the execution of their katas. Definitively, Gyôsei would be wary of housekeepers.

Despite the recent building of a railroad between the two cities, the Tôkaidô road, more than 500 kilometers long, linking Kyoto to Tokyo in more than 50 relays - without forgetting Osaka and Kobe - was still very popular, mostly because modest people did not have enough money to buy a train ticket. It was dotted with thriving inns and abandoned checkpoints since the end of the Meiji era and the reunification of modern Japan. Its creation a long time ago had allowed the trade to prosper all along the coastal path, this axis having remained several centuries during the most traveled of Japan.

About two weeks of travel were needed to cross this road on foot without horse or palanquin, ridiculous and useless attributes in the eyes of the thirteenth master of the Hiten Mitsurugi, but by rushing only ten days would be necessary for the man to complete the journey. To have large legs and a developed musculature, fruits of a rigorous training for decades, had proved useful in many situations.

And the faster I will go, the faster I will get rid of this crowd ...

But while Hiko was only barely getting close to Kusatsu, second stop of the above-mentioned route, his sharp hearing suddenly detected the cry of a young boy, as if smothered by ...

...Leaves?

He moved instinctively towards a tree-lined massif at the entrance to the village. Above a Scots pine, half masked by thorny branches at almost 15 meters high, a small body was leaning dangerously towards the void.

"Help!"

"... what's your name, kid?" Hiko shouted from the bottom of the tree, very curious to know the name of the one who'd had the imbecility to climb higher than he knew how to get off.

"Toshiro, but ... HELP ME FINALLY! I'M GONNA FALL!"

The boy was desperately clinging at a medium-sized branch, which was already emitting dangerous crackling sounds. He was covered with green goads. Hiko found the scene in front of his eyes rather funny.

"Patience, kid, you don't have to be afraid when I'm right below you."

"Huh?"

With that, the master jumped several meters high, lifting the dust at his feet to land on a branch halfway from the child. He quickly made his way towards him, clutching the trunk with dexterity. Then came a moment when it was too thin to support his weight, and Hiko stopped his progress.

"Let yourself fall."

"No, I can't ..."

"Let yourself go, fool, I told you I was right below!"

"HUWAAAAAH"

The young boy did not have to execute the said move because the branch that supported him suddenly yielded, obliging the master to throw himself immediately in the emptiness to catch him. They landed on the ground with a crash but no damage, since Seijuro held the boy in his arms with a perfect squatting position. You don't become thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi for nothing, see.

He laid the child on the ground and dusted his coat disdainfully.

"So, Toshiro... what kind of stupid reason did cross your mind to have you climbing on a tree ten times higher than you?"

Not that I really care about it...

Toshiro waited a few moments to regain his breath and his balance, then devoured with an indescribable intense gaze the imposing brown man in a white cape that had so spectacularly restrained his fall.

"It's my dog, Mochi... He ran away several weeks ago, and since then we've been staying at the hostel in order to find him ..."

The boy's face darkened sadly. From Hiko's point of view, he was only going to babycry.

They must have money to afford themselves to be stuck here for so long, just for an animal ... I guess these are the benefits of this carefree Meiji era.

"..You know, everyone loves him at home, he's part of our family. I thought climbing up this tree would give me a better view of the valley ..."

"It was a silly idea."

"He was scared by that damn raven!" continued the boy, as if to defend himself. "Mochi goes crazy every time he sees one ; you see, a bird attacked him when he was a puppy, and since then he has always been afraid of it!"

Stupid master, stupid dog ...

"I did not ask you for so much information ..." Hiko pointed out, his annoyance growing.

Toshiro suddenly looked up at his savior.

"Oh, I'm so rude ... You helped me, and I don't even know your name?"

"Niitsu Kakunoshin ... I'm a potter."

Even to a child, Seijuro Hiko did not reveal his true identity. Never. Precaution of thirteenth Hiten Mitsurugi's master, a school that had survived for several centuries with only one disciple and one name.

"Po ... potter?"

Toshiro could not believe his ears. This man was so muscular and agile ... Potters suddenly rose high in his esteem.

"Please come to the inn with me. My parents and my little sister are there and my father is an art dealer, he will surely give you money to thank you."

"That's nice, kid, but I'm in a hurry."

Hiko had no desire to hang out in this rotten shed, let alone meet other people.

"Just be careful next time."

"Yes sir!"

Toshiro greeted the great ceramist very low, who went on his way as quickly as possible, silently muttering against reckless kids climbing the trees and wasting his time. One stupid apprentice was enough.

Saito was fuming. They had a lot of trouble collecting data on this case, and he still had no tangible track. During these last weeks the agents deployed to the field had returned once again with shreds of information without concrete link to each other. Children were disappearing, mainly in remote villages and poor areas of Japan. In most cases they were orphans, making it hard to identify and even account for them. Nobody claimed their bodies, and few people cared about them.

The number of disappearances is probably wildly underestimated ...

He took a puff from his cigarette. A dirty habit inherited from Westerners.

They may simply have died of starvation and their corpses would have been left aside in the absence of a loved one to bury them.

Unfortunately, some disappearances were oddly localized. And Saito did not believe in coincidences.

What use would a group of kids without connection be?

This case did not make any sense. He was turning that same question again and again in his mind, spinning impatiently around his desk. Outside his window, afar in his visual field a little girl was holding a puppy on a leash. An Akita, probably, judging by its already imposing size despite its young age. It was then that he was wandering on this innocuous reflection that an unhealthy idea began to germinate in his mind...

...A human trafficking?

They were roaming into the streets of former Edo, still noisy despite the late hour. One of the pleasant changes of this new era, in comparison with the desperately empty alleys of Kyoto as soon as the day was off during Bakumatsu, noted the wanderer. Night had fallen and the red glow of Izakaya's lanterns alternated with the fleeting flashes of candles entrenched inside the intimate houses of wood and clay. Their path consisted of wide, animated passages as much as of narrow lanes, where the single shadow of the crescent moon gave the high stone walls an almost threatening look. The brawler had his hands in his pockets and was chatting about futile things on the way : this cuttie here had pretty eyes, the fish dealer there yet open rather looked like he was selling junk... He was smiling while walking, obviously relaxed, stretching his long legs covered with badly trimmed trousers to the front. The other man, smaller and older, remained silent most of the time, but was following him at a good pace. With his face somewhat lowered, only the slight wind that sometimes played among its red strands could discover his deep azure eyes.

It had become one of their rituals. Strange, how a friendship can be forged between two persons of a different generation, bound by a visceral fighting instinct and the trials that life had put in their path. Going out in such a regular basis was granting them with privileged moments between friends, far from the sometimes suffocating female agitation of the dojo where the samurai lived.

"... Hey, are ya even listenin' to me when I speak?"

He raised his head, suddenly thrown out of his thoughts.

"Gomenasai Sanosuke..."

The samurai let his words linger in the fresh air of spring. His eyes were still dark.

Kenshin doesn't seem like himself tonight... my job to cheer him up!

Sanosuke Sagara logically decided to take his mind off the brooding by using the best way he knew, a method that he believed had been proven in any age and any individual.

"Well, whaddya think about givin' a good hit into a woman tonight?"

"ORO?"

The wanderer gave him a meaningful, almost comical glare.

"This one does not value violence against women." he said seriously.

"Oh my, you're so straight, Kenshin! Relax a little!" He gave him a big pat on the back. "I only meant to have sex with a woman, if ya see what I'm talkin' about!"

"Oro? This one still does not see the interest, that he does." The samurai blushed discreetly, but seemed however to consider the proposition for brief a moment. "Besides, Kaoru-dono would be furious ..."

"Kami-sama, how can ya be so austere... Okay, let's have a drink instead!"

They were approaching a place with warmer vibes. Sanosuke went on with an exaggerated cheering tone :

"This spot will be perfect!"

He lowered his head and lifted the entrance's curtain of the small building which seemed almost out of time. The atmosphere was more hectic inside than outside - not to mention noisy. As soon as they had taken their seats near a window, the two buddies were knocking back fermented rice beverage shots together, one of the rare local alcohol on this isolated island of the Far East.

"Ya don't speak much tonight." He corrected himself. "I mean, ya're chattin' even less than usual."

The redhead sighed, annoyed by this display of hidden questions, before swallowing his saké.

"Sano... This one is just a bit tired, that's all."

With an absent gesture he handed the cup to his friend anew.

"I'm already used to do most of the talkin'," he continued, serving him, "but now that's a one-way dialogue."

Without paying more attention to his remarks, Kenshin emptied this new cup in one gulp, his cerulean gaze still lost on the outside agitation. Sanosuke stared at him, dumbfounded.

"And ya have a hellish thirst tonight, nothin' to compare with that fuckin' restrained behavior ya have with Jou-chan or the others."

"Ah, sorry..." He scratched the back of his head and forced a smile as he turned back to his friend.

"Give up the excuses, these drink're on me for once;" he smiled, elbowing the red-haired, "Want another?"

"Huh, I guess..."

He hesitated, then handed his glass again. It was like any other promptly emptied, but his attention never truly returned to the current conversation.

Sanosuke was peering at him silently. He knew that if the wanderer did not want to talk he would get absolutely nothing from him. This man could have a head harder than steel and was naturally not eager to confide. Although it was annoying him strongly (he was officially impatient), he had learned over years to get the best of it : it was better to spend a good time together and leave those problems until later on when he would feel ready to speak - if such a moment ever existed in this life. That's why he maintained the conversation on his own, Kenshin just nodding now and again.

The smell of saké was surrounding the small building enclosed between two other inns. Its wooden tables, worn but friendly, were covered with sticky and odorous traces resulting from the strong passage of individuals throughout the day. The evening continued until numerous bottles were emptied. Nothing unusual for the fighter accustomed to this kind of trip, but much more unnatural for his companion who appreciated so much self-control. He had swallowed the majority of the drinks served without really paying attention, under the half-amused eye of his friend.

Yep, definitely, somethin's wrong.

"... ya better stop here, don't ya think?"

It did not sound like the brawler at all to restrain others' consumption, but something didn't seem right in the samurai's behavior tonight, and he did not like it.

"Hmm." Kenshin put his glass down, awkwardly dropping his elbow on the table. "Let's go."

He got up with the help of his left arm and crossed the door, head bowed.

Sanosuke was following him closely. The samurai had a slightly feverish and unsteady walk. For an innocent eye his balance would seem perfectly normal, but for the trained eye of someone who knew the precise and agile moves of the fighter like the back of his hand, there was no doubt about it : he was dead drunk.

Sanosuke took place at his side while discreetly positioning himself in the background to be able to catch him in case of fall.

"I never saw ya drink this much..."

"Gomenasai" he mumbled

"Stop apologizing all the time, it's becomin' really annoyin' t-"

The wanderer suddenly lost his balance, stumbling on a misplaced pebble. Sanosuke narrowly caught him by placing his arm under his belly.

"Baka, I'll take you back to the dojo."

"... Arigato, S-Sano"

The fighter put his arms around his friend's shoulders, and while supporting most of his weight, walked on the pavement carefully. The wind that had gotten colder by now was playing melody against the surrounding silence, between the leaves of trees barely lit by the nocturnal star. They stopped several times on the way so that the redhead could empty the contents of his stomach, implicitly helped by his friend to stabilize him. As he watched the samurai folded in half, his hair stuck to his face, Sanosuke was thoughtful.

No more words were exchanged that night between the two men. Only the sound of occasional regurgitation and settas hitting the ground punctuated their march.

Next chapter : Enemy of my enemy

[wayneooverton]

10 things I learned while living with the birds in Fiordland

Ever dreamed of living off-the-grid in a mountain hut? Do you have a soft spot for rare native birds? Read on to discover 10 insights gained by Crystal Brindle, a field ranger who spent the summer living in the remote mountains of New Zealand’s largest national park and the voice and photographer behind In Pursuit of the Wild.

If you’ve spent a decent amount of time above treeline in the mountains of the South Island of New Zealand you might be familiar with the rock wren.

Otherwise, you likely have no idea what these little guys are. No worries.

The rock wren is a small bird that is found nowhere else except New Zealand. And not only is it limited to New Zealand, but specifically the South Island. And even then you won’t find them just anywhere.

Rock wren only live above where the trees stop: in rough and seemingly inhospitable alpine landscapes of boulders, scrub, cliffs, and snow.

They are also very endangered.

Photo by Jamie McAulay

Because of their solid affinity for the high country, the rock wren is New Zealand’s only true alpine bird.

Yes, there are other iconic birds of the mountains, including the kea, but even the kea uses the forest for habitat whereas the rock wren spends its entire life-cycle above treeline, never venturing down into the shelter of the forest, not even in winter.

So, what’s so special about these little birds and the places they live? And, what did I learn spending a summer living in the mountains to get to know them?

On the Search for Rock Wren in the Lord River Valley

I spent this past summer living high in the wild mountains of Fiordland living in a remote hut working as a ranger for the Department of Conservation monitoring rock wren. Away from the hustle and bustle of every day life, and often only with these little creatures for company, I had nothing but time for reflection and profound life lessons.

1. Life in a harsh landscape is ruled by balance

When you live in the mountains you can’t help but adapt to the rhythm of life driven by sunrise, sunset, and of course, the weather.

There’s nothing to distract you, nothing to insulate you from the real and immediate drivers of life processes. The yin and yang of rest and effort, sun and storm feeds an underlying current of balance in the natural world.

I was swept up in this balance and found that my activities were governed by the same forces as every other living thing. When the weather was fine, I went hard with the sun through long work hours spent climbing hills to take advantage of summer daylight.

Rock wren were busy feeding all day to make the most of the abundant insects and warm temperatures. Flowers opened to attract all the pollinators they could.

When wet days finally came it seemed as though everything took a deep breath.

Overworked streams were refreshed with new water, and rock wren traveled out from their nests only when they had to and conserved energy where they could. Leaves collected water like drinking glasses. My research partner and I worked shorter days outside and had more time to rest under shelter.

If the balance was exceeded in either direction, it was noticed.

Too much dry weather would create a mountain of data entry work to catch up on, the water tank ran dry, and pools appeared stagnant and murky.

While on the flip side, too much cold and moisture, especially snow (even in summer) would trap us in the hut, with the strong worry that if it persisted, the rock wren nests could fail.

2. The best way to find a rock wren nest is with a handful of feathers

It’s true. The best way to find a rock wren’s nest, once the bird is spotted, is to offer it some feathers.

This is because when rock wren build their nests in early spring, they’re after soft, plush material to line the inside and keep the eggs and later chicks toasty warm. Feathers are their favorite lining to use and they gather them up anywhere they can find them and bring them back to the nest.

Finding a rock wren’s nest is the first step to figuring out what it is up to and to monitor these endangered species.

Is it in the early stages of nest building, are there eggs in the nest, are there chicks, or have they fledged? Once we find a nest we can go back to it day in and day out and check up on the birds to see how they’re doing. This is important to determine whether or not the adult birds are successful in breeding or if they fail to figure out why.

So, if you want to know where a bird’s nest is, presenting it with a feather or two will often help you locate the nest.

Once the feathers are in the bird’s beak, it usually stops what it’s doing and heads straight for home.

You’ll be surprised how far they can travel. Many times I watched a rock wren become a tiny speck through my binoculars as it hopped away and flew back to its nest, white fluffy feathers held high in its tiny beak, easy to spot amid the boulders.

3. Living in a backcountry hut has its ups and downs

For those of you unfamiliar with our incredible backcountry hut system in New Zealand, there is a vast network of almost 1000 huts that offer shelter and a place to stay while out hiking or exploring the vast national parks here. Most are fairly basic with bunks with mats, a long drop toilet outside and maybe a fire inside. You bring in everything you need and take it out with you.

Ah, the simple life. Living in a standard 12-bunk DOC hut for an entire season is an interesting and memorable experience to say the least, and our hut was a far cry from the lush huts available on the Milford Track.

I loved stepping out of the door and into a world-class landscape day in and day out.

The twisted and lichen-hung silver beech forest that crept in on three sides, the expansive view of tussock-clad hills through the window, and the lake only a minute’s walk downhill were all special highlights of calling Lake Roe Hut home for the summer.

Lake Roe hut is located deep in Fiordland on the notorious Dusky Track, often lauded as New Zealand’s most difficult tramps, though luckily since we were working we flew in by helicopter with all the gear.

But, of course, there were challenges equal to the rewards of living in this remote place. Living for 10 days out of every 14 in the same hut means that you really can’t help but accumulate a lot of stuff.

When my coworker and I had the place to ourselves we lavishly spread out in comfort – taking over the bench, the only table, a corner in each bunk platform. However, as Lake Roe Hut is open to the public we sometimes found ourselves tight on space, attempting to cook and work around a hut full of people.

At the worst of times one could be doing the dishes in lukewarm pond scum filled water (yuk) while swatting biting sandflies, or running to the long-drop toilet in the dark and pouring rain, or taping up an inch-wide crack in the wall to avoid seeing a mouse run back and forth beside one’s head when trying to fall asleep.

But, overall, these inconveniences and headaches were small compared to the overwhelming awesomeness of actually living a primitive life in the mountains.

4. Rock wren are tenacious, capable, and well-suited to living in their challenging habitat

The rock wren is tough.

Simple as that. Like a miniature mountaineer it hops and flies up nearly vertical rock faces bringing food, feathers, tussock, or lichen to and from the nest no matter what the weather throws at it. How does it do it?! The 10 cm long bird weighs only 15 – 20 grams and yet inhabits a mountain landscape that is huge on any scale.

After a summer of getting to know these birds, observing them daily, and living where they live I can attest to the unexpected strength of such a tiny bird and its integration into the special ecosystem of alpine Fiordland.

However, rock wren now face new challenges that can throw them off-balance. 

A recent decline of rock wren has been recognized and the species’ conservation status officially changed from vulnerable to endangered in 2016.

It’s been suggested that introduced predators are responsible for the decline as stoats and mice have been caught preying on eggs and nestlings. The data I collected this summer was for research investigating the link between predator control and breeding success of the rock wren.

Photo by Grant Maslowski

5. Rock wren don’t live in easy places to reach

Rock wren like to live in places that are difficult for humans to access.

The same head-high thick scrub, car-sized boulders and hidden holes that make travel through rock wren habitat so difficult for a person, make it ideal for the birds. If you want to find them you have to spend your time here – sometimes crawling or often falling through the intricate landscape of the alpine kiwi wilderness.

And they certainly don’t make any tracks for us, we just have to figure out how to get there.

Over the course of the summer, I traveled across all manner of difficult terrain from jagged boulderfields to slippery tussock and thick scrub (dense vegetation that holds a lovely reputation among trampers across New Zealand for its ease to move through *sarcasm, pure sarcasm).

Pictured: Kerry Weston, Louise McLaughlin

Its dense, tangled, and matted form poses a barrier that must be pushed through to access rock wren nests time and time again shredding your clothing and testing the patience of even the hardiest individuals.

But the thing is, the little guys love this stuff!

Scrub provides shelter and food while boulders and steep bluffs provide perfect shelves and cracks for nest-building. If it’s rock wren you’re after, moving through this landscape is just part of the job.

6. The best water in the world is found in Fiordland

The Fiordland landscape is made from and made of water.

Fiordland is damp and defined by water – receiving more than 7 meters of rain a year with an average of 200 days of rain annually, it makes it one of the wettest places in the world. And here the water is pure and clean.

From thirst-quenching crisp streams to endless pools to choose from for a swim, Lake Roe and its surrounding terrain is defined by water more than any other element.

I relished the refreshment of lying on my stomach, eye level with a stream, and sticking my face in the water for a long, cool drink on a hot summer’s day. Fresh, clean, straight-from-the-source water is one of my favorite things about being in the mountains of New Zealand. It is a luxury that is easy to indulge in Fiordland.

I experienced the primal feeling time and time again of dipping beneath cool water on a hot sunny day under the rocky face of Tamatea Peak: the powerful warmth of sun on my back in contrast to the refreshing water around me.

And at night, floating on my back in the middle of Lake Laffy, letting everything go, I saw cloud lifting from Lake Bright in a tendril toward the moon as kea called from their roosts in the cliffs above.

This experience, much like an immersion in the still, reflective water of the lake after a warm, muddy, hill-climbing run feels like life the way it is supposed to be: simple, visibly present, and engaging.

7. The most incredible alpine flowers can be found where you least expect them

Hidden stream-side native foxgloves, vivacious Mount Cook buttercups growing in spite of gravity on the steepest bluffs, hybrid snow marguerites: an intriguing shade of creamy yellow against a hillside of green can dominate the wild Fiordland landscape.

How do these beautiful plants manage to survive above the treeline in such a harsh environment?

Cut-leaved buttercups defy gravity on the highest peaks in an otherwise rock-dominated landscape, and my personal favorite, the delicate but impressive gentians that bloom in late summer in the high places.

These alpine flower gardens defy expectation and add a welcome splash of beauty to the summer scene and bring simple joy when living up here.

8. Young rock wren might be a little bit ugly before they have feathers but once they’re fledged they’re incredibly adorable!

When embarking on the delicate process of sticking a flexible “Giraffe Cam” inspection camera in a rock wren nest in order to monitor it, my coworker and I discovered that very young rock wren are pink, featherless, and all-around pretty unexpected looking!

Lucky for them, this isn’t how they turn out. The little chicks soon start pinning feathers and by the time they leave the nest they are adorable fluffy fledglings.

So cute!

9. You can expect snow at any time in the Fiordland mountains

I learned this lesson on the very first shift of the season.

A few days of sunshine helped my coworker and I settle into a routine of nest searching that was then quickly shattered by a dump of snowfall. The places we had visited only the day before were now off-limits due to avalanche risk from the snow-laden slopes above the nesting bluffs. The snow continued to fall until it was knee-deep around the hut.

We became effectively stuck inside, unable to travel far in the snow. A jaunt that normally took under 10 minutes to reach Lake Roe now took over 30. It just wasn’t feasible to get any fieldwork done so we scooted within inches of the hut fireplace and entered data into the laptop until we managed to grab a miraculous flight out in the smallest of weather windows.

We were able to leave, but the rock wren had to stick it out and survive. And, surprisingly, they did! We didn’t lose a single nest to this snowfall event, a true testament to the adaptability and hardiness of this small bird.

10. Working in this landscape is just as impressive as you might expect and a privilege

Each day I was surprised anew by the drama of my surroundings.

When I first arrived everything was brand new and I was filled with euphoria at finally arriving in a place I had longed to work in for years. This feeling turned into steady appreciation as I came to know and love every contour of this landscape.

I still think back often to that first arrival when I was struck in awe of Fiordland’s beauty. I was wedged in the very outermost corner of the passenger seat of the helicopter and felt that I could almost reach out and touch the passing cliffs and forest.

Cloud opened, cloud closed, a view here, a glimpse there: we passed valley after valley of idyllic reflective pools surrounded by the most jagged peaks I had ever seen and multiple-tiered waterfalls dropping from snowy glaciers to deep and perfect pools hidden in silver beech forest.

I remember thinking that I didn’t even know mountains rose that sharply or that cliffs could be that steep or that rivers could snake their way through such magical rock-strewn valleys.

But, it was true. Fiordland is the place where a blend of fantastical reality is possible and from that first journey into Lake Roe I knew that after years of waiting it had been worth every moment to finally arrive.

Through studying the intricate details of this alpine world I became more acquainted with what I love about spending time enveloped in these mountains that capture my attention like none other and living alongside these hardy and persistent birds revealed lessons not only of rock wren but also about myself. After a summer in the wild, I left a more connected mountain enthusiast and more educated student of the natural world.

Have you heard of the rock wren?

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