Mugen had been the one to bring it up -- he claims it stole the dumpling he'd been keeping in his pocket. Jin resisted the urge to ask why Mugen had food there in the first place, especially since the dumpling had been purchased three days earlier when they'd passed through a town. But it didn't matter; this was curious business.
Mugen described the thief with something like seething rage: quick motherfucker, smart too, rodent-like, hairy...
What? Jin had paused mid-kata then, and blinked. Blinked again. "Rodent-like?" he asked.
Mugen nodded and scratched his ass.
Jin insisted that Mugen must have been dreaming, and he lunged forward. Mugen dodged, somersaulted, and held his blade a Jin's throat.
No, he said and knicked Jin's adam's apple, he saw it when he was wide awake.
Jin leaped back, charged, and pinned Mugen against a tree. Nonsense.
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But Jin was open to developments in evidence.
Two nights after Mugen had a accused a rodent-like motherfucker of stealing his pants-dumpling, Jin saw it with his own eyes. He had his hand resting on Mugen's head, which was bobbing up and down in his lap. And Jin just happened to be opening his eyes after Mugen made particularly good use of his tongue. There it was.
Just a grey blur (though a rodent-like grey blur, Jin was loathe to admit). An, at that particular moment, it was making off with one of Jin's sandals. Fucker.
He debated for a moment if he should grab a fistful of Mugen's hair and lift his head to show him. But it made more sense to let Mugen keep doing what he was doing. Perhaps this would be the last time that the rodent would show up.
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This, of course, was foolish optimism.
The next time, Mugen cam streaking up to him, naked and dripping. Jin prepared for an ambush, but Mugen wasn't holding his blade. This led to confusion.
Mugen flailed for a moment, fingers bent into fierce little claws. Apparently, the rodent-like motherfucker had interrupted his bath. And, lord knows, Mugen needed that bath. This was serious business.
Jin wondered how such a small creature could bother a man so accustomed to brawling and scrapping, and Mugen motioned frantically at his nakedness: it had stolen his clothes.
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The plan was simple, but brilliant.
At least, according to Mugen. They would place Jin's wide-brimmed straw hat out in the open, one end propped up on a stick. The bottom of the stick would be attached to a string and, on the other end of the string, hidden in the bamboo forest, Mugen would wait, ready to tug. When the rodent-like creature made a move for the bait -- a small piece of fruit -- Mugen would pull the string and the critter would be trapped. Mugen grinned as he finished explaining the plan.
Jin was skeptical. It seemed simplistic, and he shuddered to think what a rodent could do to a straw hat. His straw hat. But Mugen trembled with excitement like a child.
"It's flawless," he said.
"It's stupid," Jin replied.
Mugen juggled the piece of fruit from one hand to the other. "What the shit is this," he exclaimed, "it's perfect!"
Before Jin could answer, listing off all the ways in which the plan was destined to fail, Mugen heaved back and pitched the small piece of fruit at Jin's head. It bounced and rolled near a bush, distracting Jin just long enough for Mugen to make off with the samurai's straw hat. Jin sighed, let his shoulders slump. He would have fought back, had he really thought the endeavor worth his time and energy.
Instead, he leaned up against a tree to watch as Mugen set his trap. Hat: icheck./i Stick: icheck./i String: icheck./i Fruit:...
Fuck. Fucking quick motherfucker. The fruit was no longer in the spot where it had come to rest after ricocheting off Jin's head, and they turned just in time to see a grey hind end disappearing into the brush.
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Mugen's next plan is built out of rage.
Jin finds him bent over like a dog, both hands digging a hole and discarding the dirt behind him from between his knees. He breathes heavy and hateful, plotting the demise of the rodent, and Jin sighs in resignation. Mugen is unstoppable when he gets his mind twisted around a scheme. (Jin tries to forget his "beetle" phase, but it is difficult.)
Once the pit is dug waist deep, Mugen comes up for air, dirt smudged on all his exposed skin and especially dark on his hard, knobby knees. He is a sight, one Jin wishes he could un-see, and he looks over his work with pirate pride. After he has finished preening, he dashes off into the woods. He returns with an armful of sticks and leaves. These he lays over the pit -- carefully, almost artfully. It almost makes Jin nauseous.
Around dusk, Mugen sets the trap: another piece of fruit set approximately in the center of the stick-and-leaf trapdoor. Jin wonders if the fruit had a three-day residency in Mugen's pocket along with the rancid dumpling. But no matter. The trap is set and the rodent will pay.
Around sunset, they hear the rustling of distant leaves. Mugen gets excited, perched like a rooster, and Jin finds himself becoming increasingly annoyed with the whole ordeal. But, as with a rickshaw accident, he find he cannot look away. The raspy noises grow nearer, ominous as approaching water buffalo, and Mugen may actually squeak with anticipation. Then they see it -- two glowing eyes at first and, in later re-tellings, Mugen will swear that they glowed red.
They wait at rapt attention as it emerges from the stand of bamboo. First one ferocious grey paw, then another. They hear it, something like a chirp, and it pauses in the clearing for a moment -- the calm before the storm.
It jitters, chatters some more, and spies the fruit. (Jin's stomach rumbles and he wonders where Mugen has acquired all of this expendable fruit.) It crouches low, wiggles its rear. Jin can feel Mugen's heartbeat in the ground beneath their feet. And the rodent charges. As much as a six-ounce rodent can charge.
Scamper scamper chatter. Scamper, scamper, and Mugen's mouth is open in something like prayer. iGo for it./i Closer, closer, scamper. Jin will never admit it, but he holds his breath. iCome on./i Scamper, scamper, and it is heading straight for the fruit. Scamper, and it is at the pit. It grabs the fruit...crosses the pit, and disappears into the forest.
The quick, smart, hairy motherfucker is also inexplicably light.
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Jin doesn't know why he agreed to this.
Mugen growls. "I want my fucking dumpling back." So, it is more of a verbal sulk than a growl. Maybe more of a whine.
Jin hooks his legs tighter around the tree trunk, pretends he doesn't feel it sway in the wind. This is Mugen's most ridiculous plan yet. Chase it up a tree? Why does he let Mugen talk him into these things? He sighs, feels his neck muscles seize up. For the love of...
"Fuck!" Mugen exclaims, "Do we have to wait all day?"
Jin rubs the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps it is too full of your mystery fruit and he's not hungry."
Mugen stares up at him, eyes shielded from the sun by Jin's straw hat. "What?" he calls up. Jin curses under his breath.
So, the plan. Mugen is baiting it again with his fruit. And he will chase it. Up a tree. Where Jin is waiting to...oh, God...ipush it back down/i where Mugen will catch it in the straw hat. Here he is, a trained and dedicated samurai warrior, bullying small woodland creatures, roughing them up to steal their dumplings. His soul weeps.
But, more than that, his back aches. He really wants to get down, but Mugen has become a vengeful zealot obsessed with this thieving rodent. Jin longs for the innocent days of beetle fights. Perhaps he should obtain one; maybe that would serve as an effective distraction for Mugen.
But his musings are cut short when Mugen throws a pebble at him. That is their "signal." Jin swears silently that next time, ihe/i will decide on the signal.
But, at any rate, the signal meant that the creature was approaching; reckoning was nigh. Then, after the reckoning, Jin can take a hot bath and interrogate Mugen about the fruit.
But, for now, Mugen waits, knees bent, ready to strike. His fingers twitch at his side, like he longs to grab his blade, but something inside tells him that this tasks requires a bit of finesse. Apparently, Jin thinks, this is "finesse."
The rodent appears in the clearing. This time, there is no pause, no calm. Instead, it eyes Mugen, the fruit, Mugen again. And makes a run for it. It dashes left, then right. Mugen charges, but it fakes him out. Now Mugen is in pursuit -- cussing, spitting, somersaulting, dodging. Jin listens to Mugen's heavy footsteps, to the rodent's frantic chattering.
And, somehow, the rodent finally turns to the tree. Perhaps Mugen's plan isn't so asinine. Mugen makes one final charge, swiping up the straw hat in the process. And the rodent starts up the tree.
Jin almost lets go of the trunk, he is so surprised. But he holds on tight, watches those beady eyes, those tiny clawed paws. Yes, it is almost over. The critter advances upward and Mugen scurries around below them, straw hat held out like a sacred urn. Jin locks in on his target, braces, sticks out his hand to shove --
And the most amazing thing happens. The rodent iflies./i It spreads out its furry, fleshy wings and takes flight toward the forest. It chatters once -- a taunt -- and disappears from sight. Mugen drops to his knees and roars, the kind of roar that circles the world and meets back up with itself, amplifying. The kind of roar that tears forth from a man who has lost his dumpling, his hope.
iEnough./i
Mugen grabs his blade and pulls it free from its scabbard. He runs forth, swallowed by the density of the forest. Jin sighs and slides down the tree.
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This chase was not planned.
Mugen never planned to be traipsing through the forest, chasing a fucking flying squirrel -- who knew? -- sword out and ready for serious battle. He pauses, waits in a clearing for the tell-tale sounds.
Chattering.
He hears it and heads northeast, arms thrown back behind him, driven by quick feet and gut instinct. He knows he is getting closer; the happy chirps tell him so.
As he runs, he fantasizes about what he will do to the squirrel. He imagines a small, bite-sized meal, his only meet in weeks. Or maybe he would kill it and stuff it, keep it perched on his shoulder as a warning. He thinks briefly about training it to steal for him, but rodents are not to be trusted.
All this, of course, after he retrieve his goddamned dumpling.
He follows the noise, swears he can smell it, and the scenery begins to look familiar. He breaks out of the forest and recognizes the surroundings: camp. Bastard! If it has gotten into Mugen's things...
And then he sees it. Grey and quick and nearing the shack where they sleep. Mugen pauses to catch his breath, holds his sword at the ready. One beat, one breath, and he breaks into a run, freedom-cry leaping from his throat and he reaches the shack, skids his sandals in the dirt to make the corner and stands. Blade out, heart shuddering...
And face-to-face with Fuu. And the critter. It's on her shoulder, chattering smug and knowing.
Fuu looks at him, blinks twice. "Mugen?"
Mugen bares his teeth, gestures at the rodent with his blade.
"Stop scaring Momo," she cries and shields it with her hands.
Mugen glances down, sees her clutching a small sack filled to bursting. Fuu catches his gaze, and reaches up a hand to scritch...Momo's head.
"He's been so sweet lately, bringing me all sorts of fruit. I don't know where he gets it."
When Jin finally makes it through the forest to the shack, he sees Mugen on his knees in the dirt, weeping softly like a drunk.