Indefensible

The author does not own any aspect Samurai Champloo and is making no profit from this work of fanfiction.

"Now where's that dumb brat," grumbled Mugen, rounding a corner with his sword slung over one shoulder. He and Jin had taken out a whole band of the Shogunate's men all by themselves, while Fuu had wisely ducked into the shelter of a nearby house. So now while Jin dealt with the ugly aftermath it was up to Mugen, as usual, to retrieve Fuu so they could get on the road before anyone organized retaliation.

"Oy! Girlie!" He cast a long glance down the alleyway behind the houses and almost didn't see the dark shape hidden under the eaves of a roof. "Let's go, already," he sniped, approaching her, then jerked to a stop.

Fuu was sitting with her back to the wall, the deadweight of a soldier sprawled over her legs. The man was half-twisted on his back and his face was turned towards Mugen, grotesquely blank. Following the trail of blood down his chin and neck, Mugen's eyes were drawn to the battered handle of Fuu's tanto sticking out from between his ribs. "Shit," said Mugen, with feeling.

Fuu's head was slumped down on her chest and at his exclamation she looked up slowly. Her eyes were huge in her face, the pupils tiny, her skin as white as the corpse's. And he was dead alright; Mugen had seen a lot of dead guys and this was definitely one of them. "Shit," said Mugen again. He approached, grabbing the body by the back of the shirt and hauling him off of Fuu, pointing the gory end down and away. A heavy sword fell with a clang as the soldier's arms dropped down to hang limply, trailing in the dust. "Get up," he grunted to Fuu. "We gotta go." No answer.

He pushed the corpse into the shadows of the alley and kicked it over, then reached with his free hand to pull the tanto out of the man's chest. It came loose with a wet sucking sound, and he heard Fuu gasp tremulously. It had been a lucky strike, the blade at an awkward angle as she struck up wildly from her short height. It had slipped between the lower ribs and into the heart. Mugen knew how quickly a man could go if you cut him in the right place. "Brat," he snapped again, "get up. You hurt or something? Deaf maybe?" Dropping the corpse face-down where he stood, he turned back. She was hurt, at least a little; he could see a dark line of blood staining the collar of her kimono that probably hadn't come from the corpse, and a swollen red splotch on her face that was going to turn into a bruise. There were also rusty splatters of blood, not hers, all down her lap and leading to the huge stain already soaking into the dusty ground.

"I said get up," he ordered, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet, away from the gore. She didn't struggle as he started dragging her back around the corner, her tanto tucked into his belt and his own sword in his other hand. The soldier's blade lay forlorn in the dirt next to the puddle of quickly-drying blood.

"Mugen, what's taking so long?" Jin looked completely unruffled by the vicious battle they had just fought, his face composed and slightly annoyed. "We should leave this village at once."

"Coming," said Mugen, still gripping Fuu's arm and using it to make her keep up. He could feel her trembling and her skin was cold to the touch.

"There was another soldier," Jin observed. "Did he manage to escape?"

"Nope," said Mugen grimly. "Girlie here took 'im out."

"I see," said Jin. If he was surprised by this revelation, he certainly didn't show it. His eyes went to Fuu, still following mutely after Mugen. "Are you alright, Fuu-chan?"

Fuu came to a stop and her knees seemed to buckle, so that only Mugen's bruising grip on her wrist kept her upright. Finally she twisted out of his grasp, stumbled the few steps to Jin and threw herself against his body. "I killed him!" she managed to say, before bursting into tears.

Jin was caught off-guard for a second but quickly recovered his presence of mind. "There, there," he murmured, drawing his arm around her comfortingly. Fuu's violent sobbing was muffled in his juban, her little fists clutching the fabric.

"Jeez." Mugen watched uncomfortably, sticking his little finger in his ear to clean it.

"We need to leave," Jin repeated to Mugen, "before the Shogunate has a chance to regroup." He bent slightly to slide an arm behind Fuu's knees and lifted her up, her face still buried in his shoulder. She was almost quiet now, except for tremulous, quivering sobs interspersed with hiccupping breaths. "Let's go, Mugen."

Continued . . .