Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, and I probably never ever will, so don't sue me. Kay?

Story One: The Saint and the Sinner

He would lie to her; the same way he lied to every drunken whore who had ever lain in his own drunken embrace. He was good at it; both the lying and the sex, and as far as he was concerned those tramps feelings didn't exactly matter to him once the sun was up.

She wasn't just some whorish tramp, though.

He took a swig of the sake that lay on the ground beside them and shook his head; long curling strands of dark hair fell in front of his face. He squirmed around beside her to free his hand, a bit scared to wake her up not just because he hadn't thought of the lie yet, but because she looked so at peace.

He moved the hair out of his face and rested his cheek on his palm. Her face was illuminated by the light of the dying fire behind him. Her lips were curled into a smile…a smile that would fade when the morning came.

Another swig, this time to finish off the bottle, and once he set the empty glass back down on the soil, his gut lurched with a sickening feeling. He was such a horrible man. He didn't deserve her, didn't want to desire her, but he had. If only they hadn't gotten so drunk or if only she hadn't smiled so sweetly at Fish-face; he would not be in the situation that he was in now.

She stirred a little and sighed, and he stiffened. He had to think of something to do, anything to do to fix what he'd done; but even Mugen knew when things were not fixable.

Her eyes opened and gazed up at him, and his heart stopped for a second. Their journey had begun that night in the teahouse, and would be ending shortly…without ever fulfilling its cause. Please don't speak, he thought as he watched her. His hands reached for the sake bottle, but then he remembered it was empty.

"Fuck," he whispered, slightly disgusted that the sake was gone. He needed to get drunk, drunker than he currently was; that way it wouldn't hurt him as much when he left. He wanted to be so drunk that he wouldn't think of all the awful things that could happen to her once he wasn't around, or about the things that would happen if he stayed.

He didn't deserve her. He was a pirate, a thief, a samurai who didn't care what happened to the rest of the world as long as he ended up on top. Dirty men like him didn't deserve pure innocent girls. Brutes like him didn't deserve anything higher than what they were, and she…she was a fucking saint, a goddess; his one weakness…his one downfall.

"Fuck!" he said a little louder; too loud.

"Mugen?" she groggily whispered, opening up her eyes half way, the hangover starting to consume her.

He was too ashamed to turn to face her, kept his face turned towards the empty bottle and the dying flames. There was no other choice. He would lie to her; the same way he lied to every drunken whore who had ever lain in his own drunken embrace. He was good at it; both the lying and the sex, and as far as he was concerned those tramps feelings didn't exactly matter to him once the sun was up.

She wasn't just some whorish tramp, though.

"Mugen?" she asked again, and her voice quivered, her breath stilled.

She was a goddamned saint…he was a filthy sinner.

As they lay there in silence, both of the hearts broke a little at the truth.

A/N: Was it good? Please review regardless of what you thought. All reviews are welcome, and if I receive a couple, I'll post another story! Thanks!
--- BeastMadlyInLove