"When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee's house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town, who lived a sinful life, learned that Jesus was eating there, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, 'If this man were truly a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is; that she is a sinner!'
But Jesus answered him, 'Simon, I have a story for you:
Two people owed money to a certain money-lender. One man owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now, which of them will love him more?'
Simon replied, 'I suppose the one who has had the bigger debt forgiven.'
Jesus told him, 'You have judged correctly.'"
- Luke 7:36, NIV
The thunder rolled as a young woman sprinted through the marsh. Limping fiercely on a wounded ankle, she huffed and gasped as her tired body raced for the shelter that she'd spotted in the distance. This had not been what she'd imagined for herself, she thought; this was a living hell.
The sky gave an almighty crash and for a moment the night was illuminated, mimicking its sunny companion. Then the rain poured. Fuu Kasumi sighed loudly, using the sleeves of her tattered kimono to wipe the murky liquid from her eyes.
"Ugh! Stupid rain! Why are you always catching me at the worst times?" She hung her head, staring down at her muddied geta. "Geez, I'm starting to wonder if I'd have been better off there..."
Up until recently, Fuu had been working at a small teahouse on the east coast of Edo, which she'd unconsciously traveled back to after parting with her male companions. The teahouse was owned by a podgy old woman named Misaki Nakamura, and though her name meant 'beautiful blossom,' Fuu had always pictured her as more of a mushroom or some other fungus. Her dark, wrinkled skin and boil-dappled face resembled an old pigskin cask, and she'd had the personality to match. The children of the village referred to her as Majo-me, or 'witch-woman,' because she would often throw her shoes or dump water on them as they loitered outside.
Fuu came across the tired teahouse shortly after leaving Nagasaki, where she'd been hungry and bruised but eager for work. Having been grateful for the free room and board she'd worked hard, as only she knew how, and put up with any demands without complaint.
Soon the customers began to like her, and the people of the village would stop what they were doing to say hello. She began to like the cozy village in all its simplicity, and wondered if she would one day stay and raise a family. These dreams were soon broken, however, when Misaki cruelly struck Fuu after she messed up an order for the local Yakuza. She battered her until her lips bled, ignoring Fuu's pleas for forgiveness. From that day forward, Fuu spiritedly determined that she would not stay in the village after all; but save whatever money she could and leave when the time was right.
Almost two years later, Fuu's decision was made. It had started on a sunny afternoon, when she'd been chopping wood for the day's activities. She had grown very hot and, after making sure she was alone, proceeded to pull off her yukata and finish the job in her wrappings.
"I didn't know you were hiding that body underneath all that clothing," said a voice from behind her. Fuu nearly jumped out of her sandals.
"Well," she said, giggling nervously. "I guess clothing does make me look a little slender."
"Yes. So I see. Now that I look at you, you're quite a beauty." Misaki's bead-like eyes roamed over Fuu with hunger, and she fought the urge to cover herself.
Fuu had also noticed that she'd matured; she was no longer the fifteen-year-old girl who lacked self-confidence. Over the past two years, her body had developed womanly curves. Her hips were able, her breasts somewhat larger, and she had built more muscle as well. After doing all of Misaki's dirty jobs, her legs were leaner and her arms well toned. Some nights, when she was alone, she would gaze into her mirror and study her expressions. As she combed through her hair and pouted her lips, she would mentally curse herself for wondering what a certain pirate might think of her now.
"Yes," Misaki went on, bringing Fuu back to reality. "I've never realized, since you're always wearing that raggedy pink cloth! I think it's time we got you a new robe, one that's more that's fitting."
Fuu was confused by the sudden kindness. First Misaki had called her beautiful… and now she was getting a new robe? However, it was a refreshing change, and Fuu reluctantly welcomed it. In the dark recesses of her mind, she guiltily wondered if the old woman would ever look at her as a daughter.
Almost a week later, the day before Fuu's eighteenth birthday, Misaki delivered the robe as promised. As Fuu was presented the soft gleaming cloth, her heart faltered that the woman had somehow known. She pushed it aside quickly. 'No way!' She hadn't told anyone but Amaya, the young girl who worked in the fields.
The robe hugged Fuu's flowering figure in all the right places. It was pale green in color, like a fresh sprig of pine, and its yellow embroidery and dark green trim brought out the rosy color in her skin. As she gazed at her reflection, Fuu thought she looked beautiful.
"Good," Misaki quipped, standing in her doorway with a look of appraisal. "I see it fits you. Now get washed up and make sure to wear it. We're having company this evening."
Fuu blanched. Misaki never had company and as far as she knew, the old woman had no living family or close friends. With a souring stomach, she wondered if Misaki was attempting to find her a husband.
By the time the sun had set, Fuu was freshened up and polished. She'd even attempted a new hairstyle, one that was more fashionable for the times. Twisting her hair into an elegant bun, she barely had time to pin in her favorite chopsticks before Misaki was at her door.
They made their way towards the dimly-lit dining area, and the old woman grabbed Fuu by the hands. Momentarily stricken by the rare display of affection, Fuu almost overlooked the two men who stood waiting near the kitchen. Her stomach dipped sharply as they turned her way.
One of the men was stocky and bald, his overlarge forehead a sticky sheen; however his partner was tall and contemplative, smoking a long pipe and wearing a smirk that promised danger.
The women stood in silence as the visitor's eyes roamed and Fuu could feel Misaki's betrayal, settling into her chest like a black ink. She turned away, fighting off any tears for matter of indignance, and listened to the men mutter quietly amongst themselves. Fuu fixed her eyes on the taller of the two, who grinned, a gray stream of smoke escaping from in-between his yellowed teeth.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "She'll do." And before Fuu could react, he made a quick step towards her, reaching behind his back with unanticipated quickness. A hot white light flashed behind her eyes, and the next thing she knew was darkness.
The brothel was small and dingy, with faded green tiles and wool curtains that were yellowed from smoke. Fuu thought she had seen it all, until a frightened young woman being brought in for initiation vomited all over the courtesan. Through a tirade of shouting and cursing, Fuu kept to herself, recalling a conversation she'd had with her mother when she was a child.
"Mama, why do those women look so sad?"
She pointed her hand towards a run-down building, where a group of heavily made-up women sat near the edge of a barred window. Men passing by laughed or cursed at them, banging on the bars with cups and other objects.
"Pay them no mind, Fuu. Those women are in that place because they have gotten themselves into trouble. They are thieves and tricksters, and they are not good people."
Fuu looked again, staring openly at a small woman near the entrance, who coughed and gagged into her hands. Catching Fuu's eyes the woman's back straightened up, her wheezing mouth swelling into a frown.
"Come on now, Fuu," said her mother, taking her by the hand and steering her away from the woman's gaze. "Let's get home. I'll make us some inari-zushi!" She smiled encouragingly, "How does that sound?"
"But mama, that lady looked sick!" Fuu stopped in the middle of the busy district, causing her mother to earn several annoyed looks. "What did she do? Why does she have to stay in that dirty place?"
Her mother looked hard at her then, kneeling down close to be at her level. Eyes crinkling up, she put her hands on Fuu's shoulders and squeezed gently.
"You will never be one of them, Fuu. You're destined for better things. If there is ever a time when you don't understand the difference, just remember that you are loved."
A shrill scream brought Fuu from her thoughts, and the young woman who'd vomited was now being dragged away by three older women, into a curtained room where she'd surely be beaten for causing a scene.
'I am loved.' thought Fuu, who sunk her head between her knees, dreading tomorrow and what it might bring.
Early the next evening, after being washed and prepped, Fuu was told by the courtesan that she had her first customer. As she was led off to the room by firm and rigid hands she swallowed hard, hoping this strange man wasn't too large or agile. She was surprised however, when she was met with a young boy, whose wiry body and shy eyes couldn't have made him more than twenty years of age. He was tall, thin and very tan, and Fuu watched his shoulders hunch awkwardly as she was forced to greet him.
"Okay," she thought hopefully. "Piece of cake…"
They were escorted into a dimly lit room with red accents, which Fuu immediately scanned for heavy objects. She spotted a large vase resting on a table near the window and, feeling she'd had luck with them before, decided she'd take a chance. The escort barked a warning to her before stepping out of the room, and after dimming the oil lamp, told the young man to enjoy himself. The fading light disguised Fuu's scowl.
They stood in silence for a brief moment, and Fuu wondered what the woman in these situations normally did to set the mood, or if many even had the chance. But whatever the case he was watching her too carefully- she needed a diversion.
"Close your eyes and turn around," Fuu whispered, in the most sultry voice she could manage. "I've got a surprise for you."
The young man let out a boisterous laugh, startling Fuu greatly, "If you think I'm gonna fall for that one," he laughed again. "You've got another one coming! I saw your eyes on that pot over there."
Fuu felt her panic rise. 'He figured me out!' She thought numbly. 'Only a minute ago he was acting all shy and inexperienced, but he was been watching me the whole time! What kind of guy is this, and how am I gonna get out of here now?'
Seeing her reaction, the young man ran over and grabbed her arm. Though his grip was meek, she flailed wildly, turning her head from side to side in an effort to mentally block him out.
"Hey, hey listen to me! I'm not here to- listen! Amaya sent me!"
Fuu immediately stopped flailing, and turned to look at his face.
"You are Fuu Kasumi, right? Listen, I'm a friend of Amaya's. She told me what happened, about how Misaki traded you, and she asked me to come here and rescue you. I take it that I'm not too late…?"
Fuu didn't respond, but his words were all the confirmation she needed. He knew her name, her full name, and he knew Amaya too. She took in his appearance for the second time, and the word 'rescue' glided through her consciousness like a soothing chip of ice.
"Thank you," she said gratefully and, due to her history with these sorts of things, let her thoughts move on quickly. "So how are we going to get out of here?" she asked him. "They've got guards and bars on all the windows, and it's not like I can exactly walk out the front door!"
"Well," he said. "Actually we can." He shrugged off a small rucksack that Fuu hadn't noticed previously, throwing her a childlike grin. "We cooked up a plan beforehand, not gonna just burst in here without an angle! Anyway, I hope you're not averse to taking all that make-up off…and those clothes too."
Fuu's glare must have resembled that of a fire-breathing serpent, because her young escort threw his hands into the air nervously.
"Hey now, it's just a part of the plan! Trust me on this."
Almost a full hour later, Fuu- cloaked from head to toe in heavy men's clothing- set off with her companion to escape the busy brothel. Tucking down her straw hat, she giggled briefly as she was reminded of a certain pink-robed samurai, disguised as a woman to sneak into a brothel. She smiled, letting the fond memory fill her.
They left the room with ease, and Fuu released a lungful of air when they received no attention. They made their way quietly until they'd reached the outside court, where a broad-shouldered guard blocked their path. He frowned at them as they stumbled, his heavy-lidded eyes shrinking down in distrust.
"What are the two o'you doing wanderin' around?" he asked. "What business you got here?" He straightened his massive body, clenching a heavy sword that lay strapped against his waist.
The young man, who had introduced himself to Fuu as Daisuke, also straightened, and Fuu noticed the way he casually moved in front of her.
"We're paying customers," he said coolly. "We just had had our way with the new addition upstairs and boy… was she a wild one!"
Fuu felt a raincloud move in over their heads. Was this guy serious?
The guard pulled out his sword. She braced herself.
"But I am displeased!" her companion suddenly shouted, causing Fuu and several other patrons to look his way. "I paid several koban for this new woman, and she was not a virgin! I was promised a pure young flower, and I received a seasoned whore!"
As Daisuke's voice echoed across the crowded court, more people stopped to watch. Fuu noticed in terror that the courtesan herself was now hurrying towards them, her ornamented feet taking the small, pigeon-toed steps that were deemed honorable by high society.
"I am disgraced! I am dishonored! Madame Fujimara has shamed us out of our hard-earned money!"
"Is that true?" Fuu heard someone mutter.
"Hey now that'cha mention it, I don't think my broad was either.!"
"Yeah, you goddamn traitors! We want our money back!"
"What is the meaning of this?" asked the courtesan calmly. "What accusations are you casting towards our beloved district?"
Daisuke's back straightened, and Fuu marveled at the cool, disinterested gaze he summoned as he locked eyes with the beauty.
"I paid for a woman whose virtue I was promised," he continued boldly. "But instead I received a harlot! Just imagine my surprise, when I find that she was not only unbroken, but capable of things that would make an aged sailor blush!" Madame Fujimara blinked at him slowly, and he suddenly flushed. "Her innocence was a rouse," he threw in. "Put on by your business to pilfer guys like us out of our hard-earned money!"
Fuu screamed inwardly. 'No, you idiot! Don't mention me!'
But it was too late. The courtesan's perfect, painted gaze was now locked on Fuu, eyes narrowing in suspicion as she took in her over-large disguise.
"And just who are the two of you?" the beauty asked, gaze lingering on Fuu who shifted nervously. "Your accusations dishonor us. I hope you are aware of the weight that they carry."
"I am Daisuke." he answered. "I am a sailor and a field-worker. And this is my companion Jurou, a fisherman on the east coast."
"I see," she crooned. "And what exactly is it that you want, other than to steal one of my girls, whom I have signed and paid for?"
For a small moment, it was though everyone around them had stopped breathing. Before Fuu could register anything else, her feet were instinctively pummeling the ground as fast as they could carry her. Daisuke followed closely behind, panting and shouting words that Fuu's pounding ears had no capacity to hear. They were nearing the large gate when she finally yelled back.
"The gate's locked from the inside! We're going to be trapped!" she could hear the heavily-clad guards behind them, shouting and closing in. A gunshot rang in her ears and she screamed involuntarily.
"...left!" Daisuke yelled, his voice rising above the thundering sound. "Go to the left!"
Fuu did as she was told, making a sharp turn before the gate only to reach another dead end. She barely had time to throw Daisuke a confused and terrified look, before he shoved her roughly into a small opening hidden in the fencing.
She heard one of the men yell in anger, and as they continued to run through the thick foliage, Fuu wondered where they'd go. Surely the guards would follow them, and they couldn't run forever. Their head-start had been their only saving grace.
Before long they'd reached a river, lying hidden in the heavy wood, and a small boat banged clumsily against the shore. Holding onto the rope was Amaya, the friend who had saved her- and as Fuu watched the small, bedraggled girl struggle with its weight, she felt as if she was seeing her for the first time.
There was an angry shout, followed by the crashing of branches, and all three knew there was no time for goodbyes. Daisuke grabbed Fuu and dropped her into the creaking boat, wishing her a hurried 'happy birthday' just before Amaya's arms flung around her neck. Her petite frame stretched awkwardly over the shore to reach her.
"I wish there was more time!" the girl cried. Her messy, sun-dried hair tickled the side of Fuu's neck. "But I'm so glad you're alright, Fuu, and I know you'll be okay-"
There was another bang and crackle. Daisuke grabbed Amaya's hand and yanked her away.
"Goodbye, Fuu! Good luck! Don't forget about me... and don't forget to look at the moon!"
The pair had disappeared in the dark forest just as an over-large man came crashing into the clearing. He cursed loudly, sword in hand as he glimpsed Fuu's bobbing figure, rolling away swiftly with the current and out of his reach.
Many miles down the river, the water had calmed considerably. Fuu breathed a sigh of relief. Peeling off her soggy robe while the wooden boards gave protest, she lay down on the bottom with an exhausted sigh. Moving her hands, she let her fingers run along its filmy surface and felt inexplicably safe. No one could reach her there, she thought, no one could find her on her tiny, floating island.
Stretching her cramped legs, Fuu rested her arms behind her head and stared at the sky. The stars were many, and she admired the way they seemed to stay still, even as the boat pulled down the river. As she glanced at the half-waning moon she remembered her friend's parting words, and a conversation they'd had shortly after they'd met:
"Wow!" Amaya said." Look at how beautiful the moon is. It seems so close!"
Fuu lay down in the grass to get a better look. The moon that night was unusually large, so much so that she could see all of its little bumps and craters.
"It really does." she agreed, her eyes fixed on the glowing orb. "But sometimes, when I look at it, I get kinda sad." Her friend looked over at her questioningly, so Fuu continued. "I guess it just reminds me of stuff, that's all- of some people that I used to travel with. I don't know why."
"Ah, right," Amaya sighed a long breath. "The samurai and the pirate. It's so romantic, Fuu. I wish I could've been there on your journey! It sounds amazing the way you tell it."
Fuu made a noise somewhere in between a snort and a laugh. "Well actually, there was nothing romantic about it! Most of the time we were either fighting or trying not to get killed! I used to wonder how we stuck together for so long."
"Well," Amaya looked thoughtful. "Whatever the case, they must have cared about you. I mean, how could they not?"
A soft breeze blew across the field, and the rustling grass tickled their feet. "I don't know," Fuu said. "I guess I just miss 'em a lot. I think about them all the time, and I can't help but wonder if they ever miss me back."
Both girls grew peaceful and quiet, each staring at the sky and picking out patterns in the stars.
"Well, wherever they are, they're probably looking at this same moon. Maybe they're looking at it and thinking about you, too. And even if they're not, at least you're all sharing the same view."
Fuu smiled. She hadn't thought of it that way.
"Thanks," she said softly, feeling oddly grateful. She was glad to be in that moment then, exactly where she was.
"No problem," said her friend. "Now, let me tell you about this boy…"
The gentle trill of a morning dove shook Fuu out of her sleep, and she realized it was morning. The sun blazed gratuitously, and her rickety little boat had lodged itself at the edge of a small cove.
"Alright!" she yelled, energetically stretching her limbs. "Now let's find some food!"
A small lump ruffled near her breast, and a beady-eyed face poked out to greet her.
"Momo!" she squealed. "You old man! When did you sneak back onto that boat?"
The squirrel gave a pip, as he did when his master addressed him, and proceeded to glide off Fuu's shoulder. He was still very much a wild animal, and often went missing for days at a time before she would grow worried. The last time she had seen him, he had been in her pocket at the brothel, eating some seeds out of her robe's linty corners.
"What's up, Momo? Is there food around?"
The squirrel's tail twitched once as he attached himself to a branch, then scurried along as she followed. The impish pet was often handy, especially when it came to finding local nuts and berries. She remembered the time she'd him found in a privately-owned apple orchard. Her mouth watered at the crisp, tasty memory.
They ended up finding a wild strawberry patch- greenish-red berries poking out from some underbrush- and the girl and her pet ate greedily as Fuu drank some of the fresh water her friends had laid in the boat. She thought of them fondly, and hoped they'd made it back into town.
'Now I just have to find my way to a village,' she thought. 'I guess I can start over..."
So the days and nights passed, and Fuu found that the wilderness was much worse when alone. She was hopelessly lost, and prayed that the mossy stones were indeed guiding her north, and that it wasn't just a wives' tale. Towards the third evening, she fell into a ditch as she was walking along an unmarked path, painfully spraining her ankle, and her hopes grew that much dimmer.
On that same night, the thunder crashed again, illuminating the building in the distance with an eerie light. It was the first sign of shelter Fuu had spotted since she'd left the boat, and the fantasy of a warm meal and a dry bed made her heart pound with anticipation.
By the time she reached the house, Fuu knelt on the first step and collapsed with exhaustion. Her vision was prickling, and the familiar feeling of starvation had begun to tighten itself around her like a noose, shrinking the horizon as the world closed in. She lifted up her head and studied the house, which more closely resembled an overlarge shack, but a long, wrap-around porch and the presence of a second floor gave the structure a more homey gently, Fuu climbed the stairs and caught sight of a plaque near the door, where an inscription was written.
'イマヌエル, Immanuel'
"Immanuel?" Fuu read aloud, but a particularly large clap of thunder drowned out her voice. She jumped in startlement, giving her needed adrenaline to rap on the door. She waited and listened, but there was no answer.
"Great," she thought. "Well I'm getting in somehow!"
Ignoring her stinging foot, Fuu hobbled to the back of the house in hopes of a window or back entrance, but found it hard to see. The wind howled as it battered the wooden house, and the trees bent down sideways to its force. Fuu felt her heart beating rapidly out of sheer exhaustion and stress and was stricken suddenly by the sound of a voice, echoing loudly from a neighboring field.
"Kiko! Shika! Get over here, you little devils!"
Through the heavy sheet of rain, Fuu could just barely make out the figure of a woman, moving erratically in between the tall, swaying reeds. Squinting her eyes, Fuu watched in horror as the woman raised her arms above her head, brandishing a long silver pole with a sharp hook at its end. The storm seemed to intensify, reaching an angry peak, and Fuu's stomach turned as the woman proceeded to slaughter the animal, burying her hook into its unsuspecting neck. The animal bleated and Fuu let out a gasp, heart palpitating in her chest as she struggled for breath. As the thunder hissed and crackled, the woman's veiled head whipped wildly towards her and then Fuu, her body finally wearing down, promptly closed her eyes and fainted.
The soft tinkering of pots and pans roused Fuu from her sleep, and it took her a moment longer to clear the fog from her mind. She found herself lying in a warm woolen cot, dressed in what looked like a bathing robe.
"Hello," said a kind voice. Fuu sat up quickly as an elderly woman came to her side.
"I take it that you slept well?" the woman asked Fuu. "You've made it through the night, and that's a wonderful sign!" She bent down and picked up a wet cloth from Fuu's side, stuffing it neatly into the breast of her robe. "You had quite the fever when I found you- hallucinated most of the night, in fact. I thought that the Good Lord had decided on taking you early, but I can see now that you'll be fine."
The stranger smiled down warmly at her, and Fuu took in her appearance for the first time. It was indeed the woman from the night before, however her features were much softer than Fuu remembered. With a portly face and olive-toned skin- her wry, crinkled smile reminded Fuu of an old, overgrown child.
"Go on ahead and eat, my dear!" She set down a silver tray. "I'm sorry that I gave you such a fright last evening! I realize that, as old as I am, I can come off as a bit unsightly."
Fuu looked down at the food in front of her, where a tray of dumplings and some sort of meat lay steaming off the plate. Her stomach growled angrily, but Fuu, still remembering the previous night's events, wondered if the meat…
"Those sheep," she blurted out. "Why did you do that to them? I mean…" she cleared her throat. "There are better ways to treat your livestock."
"Sheep?" the woman cocked her head. "Oh, you mean Kiko and Shika?" She sighed, looking out the window. "Yes, I do admit that I was a little rough with them, but they're not exactly the smartest animals, and a good shepherd does what he has to when it comes to his flock." She winked. "Besides, those two are the most hardheaded muttons I've ever come across! If I hadn't wrangled 'em up, they'd still be out there, shaking from that storm!"
A loud bleating noise rang through the window, and Fuu realized unmistakably that there was more than one.
"See?" the old woman whispered. "They know when I'm talking about them. Shut up, you two!" she yelled out the window, lifting herself from the floor with a groan.
Fuu breathed a sigh of relief and hastily grabbed the food from the floor. The woman smiled again at her and watched she ate, then reached into her pocket to pull out a small bundle.
Fuu gasped through a mouth full of food, pieces of chewed mutton tumbling down her robe. "Momo!" She squeaked. The squirrel plopped down to her side, chittering lightly as he burrowed underneath her feet.
"What is your name, my dear?" the woman asked. Her dark eyes were twinkling.
Fuu looked up at her for a moment, then bowed her head gratefully.
"Fuu," she said. "My name is Fuu."
"Fuu…" the woman repeated. "Like the wind. My name is Kokoa Watanabe, and I can tell that the breeze has indeed sent you here. You will be a blessing to me."
Fuu remained still, unsure of what to say. She felt a strange mixture of embarrassment and guilt at the stranger's knowing honesty.
"Come, Fuu..." said Kokoa as she waved a hand. "Let me show you around."
The sky was a howling gray as the mid-summer storm set in quickly. In the midst of the Eastern Sea, a large ship rocked unsteadily under its new found struggle, dark waves brutally unfurling themselves against its wooden walls. The men had seen it coming, a small, ominous cloud moving in from the north- yet they were helpless to nature's power as the small mass, within a matter of minutes, transformed from an unnoticed rain cloud into a full-fledged hurricane.
The thunder cursed, and the men watched in horror as a massive bolt of lightning struck down the mast, sending two of their men careening into to the sea.
In the midst of the chaos, a tall, dark-skinned pirate gazed out over the hyperactive water. He had been the first to notice the oncoming storm and, with unparalleled quickness, secretly gathered his few possessions into a small boat beneath the main deck. He planned his escape carefully, biding his time and waiting for the opportunity which was certainly inevitable.
"Oy!" yelled a voice, and Mugen whirled around to find Sadao, the ship's captain- his dark, gritty face wearing an uncharacteristic grin.
"Nice weather, in't it now?" he chuckled. "I don't reckon this ship's gonna last much longer, and neither will any of these poor bastards!" He nodded towards the hoard of men, yelling and cursing as they attempted to manage the vessel.
"Yea," Mugen muttered, bracing his back against a particularly rough hurdle. "Good thing you couldn't give a rat's ass about any of 'em."
The captain let out a barking laugh, wicked eyes shining gleefully in the darkness.
"You really are a real bastard arent'cha, boy? But that's what I like about cha! You did a damn fine job back there in the Oki Islands. I don't think I ever seena man die so quickly."
Mugen said nothing, his face a mask of disinterest.
"Well, listen 'ere," the captain said "An' I'm only gonna say this once! I got a boat down by the bow that's a rower, meanin' it takes two men to get it across. You do something for me, and I'll get you offa this doomed shallop and split with ya my bounties."
Mugen frowned. He'd heard a similar story before.
"An how the hell do I know you won't use me to get across and then slit my throat the second ya see dry land?"
A look of thoughtfulness passed over the captain's face, and it seemed ugly on his devious features. "'Cuz I'll need at least one livin' man to take the rap," he reasoned. "When it comes time for me to sell off the goods, I mean. I got a face that's more marked then your own, believe it or not, and I don't look forward to rottin' in prison." His beady eyes flicked down to the bluish bands on Mugen's wrists. "I take it that's somethin' you're used ta."
Mugen glared silently, but the man was unperturbed as he awaited his answer. Mugen knew men like this one, the kind of dark breed of man who sat alone at night and fantasized over his next bout of bloodshed- but he also didn't care. He himself had seen the bounty the old crone hoarded, and the thought made his eyes gleam with greed. Hell, he'd run the bastard for all he had.
Mugen turned his head. The waves were thrashing harder now. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger idly over the scruff of his jaw.
"So," he said. "What is it ya want, then?"
The door to the brig opened, and a beam of dusty light fell onto a cowering young girl, chained and huddled in the corner of the cell. She flinched and shrieked as she noticed the two men, and the captain chuckled buoyantly as he moved to grab her arm.
"See this little wench here? This 'ere's the beloved daughter of Daimyo Murumachi." She twisted in his grasp, though it went unnoticed by her captor as he cast Mugen a smile. "Her father put me through several rings of hell, ya see, and I'm right enjoyin' returnin' the favor." He gestured towards a large, "U" shaped brand on his neck, and proceeded to twist her body as she let out a sob.
Mugen said nothing, watching in apathy as the petite young girl howled. He noticed the fine silk of her robe, its glistening blue ribbons torn and shredded, as though the fabric had been ripped from her body. A stream of blood trickled down her forehead, and her mouth turned toward him in a cringing, soundless wail.
"I've taken what I wanted from 'er." The captain said "What I want ya to do for me, Mugen, is kill the girl and leave nothin' left." he smiled. "Make the bitch suffer, let 'er get a taste a'what judgment really is."
The girl gasped suddenly and fell still. The captain dropped her body as though it were a rag, letting it slump in defeat onto the sodden wood floor.
"Should be easy enough for ya," he ambled back towards the door. "Hell, I'm even throwin' ya a treat- saving your unworthy soul and getting you laid!" he chuckled at his joke. "I expect your gratitude will be fully returned, once we make it back upta shore."
Mugen turned towards the girl, drawing his sword, and just before the door was closed behind him, the captain added-
"Oy, and be sure to cut me offa piece of 'er, so I can be sure ya done your job." He chuckled as the ship shook violently. "Better hurry too, the eye of the storm's approachin', and you'll be wantin' to take advantage!"
With that the door slammed, leaving Mugen and the girl alone in the dark, ringing silence.
She sprang back to life, her body jerking back like an unstuck coil as Mugen watched. The ship gave another hard jerk, tossing her forward, and he caught sight of her face for the first time. She was dark and pretty, and as he took in the details of her small waist- her heaving bosom- something deep inside of his shadowed mind considered the captain's offer.
"Please," she croaked. "Don't. Just… don't." But she gasped in fright as he approached her.
"M-Mugen!" she choked. He stopped in his tracks to stare. "That's what he called you, right? Mugen!? Please...please don't do this to me!"
She broke into a fresh wave of sobs then, huddling in the corner where the water reached her thighs, and suddenly he felt as if his eyes had been opened. He saw her as she was, bleeding and scared, and a pair of brown eyes flashed somewhere in his memory.
"Mugen, where are you hurt!?"
"Mugen, I just want you to be safe!"
"Mugen...!"
With a wild growl, the Ryukyuan knelt down swiftly and sliced off the very tip of his small toe.
"GAHHHH! MOTHERFUCKERR-AAHHH!" He continued to curse and howl loudly as he limped his way towards the girl, who was also screaming.
"STOP MOVIN' AROUND, GODDAMIT!" He grabbed for her robe, tearing off two long strips of cloth. He wrapped one piece around each half of the bleeding digit, tying his foot carefully to stop the crimson flow.
A loud snap of thunder crackled from outside, and the ship gave a low, bellowed groan before the wall suddenly burst, flooding the dirty cell with foaming black water.
"Time to go, bitch." he said, slicing through her chains with the edge of his sword. He heard her gasp as he threw her across his back and with large, measured steps- waded carefully through the freezing water.
Once back on the deck, Mugen found that the ship had already been sieged by death. They were sinking steadily and Mugen ran down to his boat at top-speed, loosening it from its hold on the ship as he dropped the frightened girl inside.
"W-WAIT!" she yelled out, grabbing hold of his ankle as he climbed back on deck. "Aren't you coming!?"
"Nope," he said. "S'all you. Just make sure ya row in the direction of the sun, and don't even think twice about drinkin' that water! You'd hafta be a real idiot…"
Without looking back, he hoisted himself up onto the groaning ship, spotting the captain a half of a mile away. He was sitting and waiting in his two-man canoe, watching the sinking vessel with obvious disinterest. As Mugen made for that direction, he heard her yell again.
"Wait!" she whined. He growled in annoyance and popped his head back over the edge.
She was standing up inside the boat, long oar in hand, and though she was still convulsively sobbing, she gave him a crinkled smile.
"Thank you!" she snuffled. "Arigatou gozaimasu, Mugen!" He only stared, watching her bedraggled form bob swiftly away from the ship.
"Whatever," he said, turning away just in time before the deck split into two. He sprinted across and flung himself into the icy water, grabbing hold of a wooden board as leverage from the waves. After several agonizing minutes, he made his way to the captain's boat, hauling himself in with no help from the smirking man. After taking an agonizing moment to stop and catch his breath, Mugen leered his way venomously.
"Thought ya weren't gonna show," the captain crooned. "Gladja could finally make it."
"Shut the hell up!" Mugen snarled, positioning himself at the far end and biting into a piece of dried meat. "You try anything and I won't hesitate ta kill ya."
The captain nodded once. "Agreed." A patient silence. "Did ya finish it, then?"
Mugen scowled. Sitting cross-legged he pulled out the fine silk cloth, which lay wedged in his pocket. It was spattered lightly with blood and as he unfurled it, held it out loosely in his palm.
The captain smiled as he confirmed the cloth's contents- a dark, wicked thing that bled into his eyes. Mugen looked away then, staring hard at the last of the ship as it sank slowly into the sea.
Author's Note: Hello lovely readers!
I hope you enjoyed chapter one of my story I love SamCham and am very excited to write and develop their continuing story- as well as my own of course! I not only adore the characters, but I'm currently going to school to become a professional editor, so I need all the practice writing and reviewing as I can get! This is one of the first pieces that I've taken seriously in a while, so any feedback is greatly appreciated!
PS, Reviews are like crack for writer's!
Thanks and lots of love,
CNS