Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai Champloo, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Manglobe. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

We Are Only Stories

A/N: For a friend on LJ.

"Are you dead yet?"

He imagines opening his eyes, looking up at his companion's stony face to see nothing. Bastard never smiles, never shows anything through his mask. But he knows Jin thinks he's a fucking genius. So he won't look up. He'll make him guess. Mugen is still for a moment, then allows himself to breathe. For a while, he had thought that he wouldn't again.

"Course not. Do I look dead to you, dumbass?"

"Yes."

He really hates Jin, hates him enough to wish that he'd been the one to die instead of a bunch of little chickenshits. But he had to kill them, had to make sure that none of them got to Jin first. Weak as they were, they hadn't had much of a chance. But he wouldn't run the risk, lose the satisfaction of killing his ultimate opponent to someone else. That's why they had all had to die.

"What're you sitting on your ass for?" he snarls. Jin remains still, seated on a nearby rock. "You gonna fight me or what?"

Jin tilts his head, his glasses beaming with sunlight, hiding his eyes. "No," he replies. "I'm not a coward who would fight an injured man. There is no honor in it."

Honor his ass. To Mugen, fighting a battle while handicapped was half the fun. Especially when he showed up stuck-up, lousy chumps.

"Get your ass off that damned rock and fight me already!"

Jin looks right at him, his mouth a thin line on his face. "Why should I? Do you really want to die that badly, Mugen?"

Such a dumbass question. Hell no, he didn't want to die. But he didn't want to live without something to fight for, someone to fight against. There wasn't anybody else out there who was like him, living only for the sake and thrill of battle. There was no finer liquor, no better challenge in life than to kill and make it to the next day.

"Does it matter if I do? The world doesn't give a shit who dies and who lives, so why should I?" He laughs. Nobody can know. They have to think that he fears nothing. "It doesn't fucking matter. Right now, we're just rumors, demons used to frighten children. It's only when we die that we become legends; that everybody stands up and realizes that they knew who we were. That's when we're real. When we die and become stories..."

"Don't be such an idiot. If you're so set on being such a legend, then save yourself while you can. Save yourself and keep fighting. Make yourself a story that'll last through the ages; make yourself infinite. Not one that'll be burned out with tomorrow's trash."

He hates Jin; hates how he always has an answer to everything. Bastard always has to have the last word, to show just how damned smart he is.

Mugen should be giving him hell, telling him that he doesn't know jackshit about the world, being such an emotionally isolated little prick. It just sucks that, for once, the things that Jin says make complete sense.

Infinite. It's what his name means, isn't it? So why not try and do what he can; why not go on ahead with what he's good at, what he loves most, and make damn sure that everyone will remember his name?

"Dammit..." He falls back into the lake water and floats. "Do what you want, dumbass. I don't give a shit anymore."

Hanging there, in the water, he doesn't see Jin smile.