AN- this story takes place during the very final part of Episode 26, so it contains spoilers. I haven't seen the actual episode, but I've read detailed reviews about it- so hopefully nothing here is OOC or off-base. The event portrayed here doesn't take place onscreen, so I wrote this trying to sort out a few more loose ends. Hopefully all the pieces fit! I'm hoping to eventually make it the prelude to the longer fic I'm currently working on, but I'm listing it as a standalone for now.
Usual disclaimer: I don't own anything remotely related to Champloo, sad to say. Please don't sue me, I'm just a pathetically obsessed fan! ;)
If you enjoyed reading this (and even if you didn't), I'd greatly appreciate reviews.
Thanks for reading my work!
Dedicated to my friends over at the Swords & Sunflowers forum (you know who you are)- you guys ROCK!
This was to be their final night together. In the morning, the three friends would split up, parting ways and casting their fates to the four winds…
They had known this day would come. Knowing hadn't made it any easier, though.
Fuu sat between Mugen and Jin on the floor of the small shack. The mood was somber; few words had been spoken that evening and an uncomfortable, tense silence filled the air as the hour grew late. She watched the two closely, a solemn look on her face. Mugen slouched with his eyes downcast, staring at his feet; Jin rested with his hands in his lap, eyes half-closed, deeply lost in thought.
The deafening silence was broken by the arrival of the old man. He opened the door and stepped inside, greeting them with a nod. As her late father's faithful servant, he wanted to be present when the deed was done- although he knew the decision was hers and hers alone. Looking at Fuu, he gestured at the old trunk in the corner. They had spoken of its contents many times while the two men were unconscious, recovering from their injuries.
As Seizou's sole heir, his possessions had become hers upon his death.
She had already given Jin her father's best kimono, since his own was reduced to little more than a bloody, tattered rag. It had been an epic battle of wills, an unstoppable force against an immovable object:
"Absolutely not. I want my old one back." Jin had been adamant about it, firmly refusing all previous offers.
"Be reasonable- you can't possibly wear that thing! None of the women around here could fix it, Jin. It's too ripped. I'm sorry. I know this isn't the same, but at least try it on. Please?"
Jin reluctantly sighed. Accepting the inevitable was more difficult than he had bargained for…
"Quit making that face, Jin. C'mon- we can't have you walking around naked, ne? Now put this on and see if it fits you."
Fuu's gentle teasing did the job, and Jin finally slipped the garment over his shoulders. Admittedly, her father's pale blue-gray kimono was a decent fit, even it was a bit too short...
A new light dawned in Fuu's eyes: her mind had been made up at long last. She had been preparing for this moment, willing herself to let loose the burden that rested upon her shoulders. Fuu got to her feet and approached the trunk. The old man handed her a key; she slipped it inside and the lock snapped open. Gripping the heavy lid with both hands, she carefully lifted it; it spun on its hinge without a sound. For a moment, she paused- then reached into its hidden depths and retrieved an object.
Her face was proud, yet grave as she approached Jin. She formally and deeply bowed, then knelt before him, hands outstretched. "Please, big brother- take this."
His eyes grew wide when he saw what was being proffered. It was her father's katana. Jin could not refuse such a gracious request, and gently lifted the sword from her hands. He did not say a word, but the look in his gray eyes spoke volumes…
"Fuu- that is part of your father's daisho. (1) Are you sure you want to split it up?" The old man had spoken so quietly, he wasn't quite sure he had been heard.
"It's not being split up." Her voice was firm.
"Well if you're not giving both swords to Jin... Are you planning to give the wakazashi (2) to Mugen, then?"
"No. I'm keeping it. Mugen doesn't need two swords. Besides, who knows- I might even learn how to use it someday!"
The elder could barely suppress his surprise, but finally just nodded. It's no use arguing with her, that's for sure…she's Seizou's daughter through and through.
Mugen had watched the proceedings, pouting. It's just like that little bitch to forget all about me… Besides, I don't even have ONE sword, much less two! He was well down the path to a full-blown snit of self-righteous indignation when she turned to him and smiled.
"Relax- I didn't forget you, Mugen."
The girl returned to the trunk and reached inside, fishing for something. She pulled a bundle out, cradling it in both hands. She quietly walked up to Mugen, then once again formally bowed and knelt before offering it to him.
"This is for you, big brother. Please accept this gift."
Mugen glanced over at Jin, who seemed equally surprised by her choice of words. Big brother? What the hell…? Did she really just call me that? Hey, wait a freakin' minute- did she call us BOTH big brother?
He leaned closer, peering at what she was holding in her outstretched hands. It was a large swath of neatly folded red cloth. With a shrug, he picked it up- and nearly dropped it, surprised by its weight.
"Hey, what the hell is IN here? This weighs a ton!"
"Open it up, silly, and see for yourself!" She was grinning broadly, although Mugen had no earthly idea why.
The red cloth turned out to be a well-made shirt, wrapped carefully around something. It was a sword. Not just any sword- it was unlike any he had ever seen before. He picked it up, marveling at its heft. It fit his hand perfectly. The metal seemed nearly alive, exuding raw power…
"Fuu, what the hell IS this?" Mugen's voice was strangely subdued, little more than a whisper.
"That sword belonged to my father as well. He got it from a trader many years ago, long before I was born. I guess it was owned by a famous European king, and stolen by pirates or something…I'm not really sure. It's a worth a fortune, though, so take good care of it."
The old man stared at her, apparently mesmerized by the tale. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree… Well, except for being a boldfaced liar! Telling the boy such a whopper about that worthless old blade- downright shameful… But the elder held his tongue. He was satisfied; Seizou's daughter had indeed proven herself. Realizing the hour had grown quite late, the old man at last took his leave.
Once again the three were alone.
Fuu smiled, and gave each of them a quick peck on the cheek and a hug.
"Get some sleep, you two."
Yes, I think everything will be all right. For the first time, everything will definitely be all right…
notes:
(1) Daisho- a samurai's matched pair of swords; they were very valuable and would ordinarily not be separated.
(2) Wakazashi- a short sword, in this case part of a matched pair (daisho).