She died young, from hard living and harsh child bearing, as many woman did in the Edo period.
As Fuu laid on her deathbed, she began to think over her life (as all dying people do). The most exciting part of her life had been at fifteen, traveling with Jin and Mugen. It was hard to believe that it was nearly thirteen years ago; she remembered the days as if it had happened yesterday. She had never seen them again after their parting; they walked out of her life just as quickly as they had walked in. All the promises had meant nothing in the end, hers and theirs.
After four years of odd travels and searching for her old companions, she gave up, deciding that they would find her if they wanted to. It had broke her heart when they hadn't. She settled into a small seaside village and worked as a waitress for a nice old couple. There she had met Shinji, an innocent young fisherman who told her she was beautiful and that he wanted to marry her even though she was past the perfect age and far from a virgin anymore. They married only months after they met. By the time Fuu was twenty-one she already had twin boys. By twenty-four a girl and another boy had been added to the ever growing family and she'd given up on her girlish dreams of Jin or Mugen coming to save her from her now mundane life. It wasn't as though she didn't care for Shinji but she would never feel the way she had felt about the other two men in her life.
Jin.
Mugen.
For some reason she always thought she would think of Jin when she was dying. After all, he was an odd mixture of being her first love and father figure to her. But instead it was the Ryu-kuuian who burned brightly in her mind.
If Jin had owned her heart first then is was Mugen who had owned her body.
Thoughts of him rushed through her mind—His sarcastic smirks and lame jokes that always made her laugh, his manic behavior while he fought and the pounding of her heart when she thought about how it would feel to have him inside her.
One memory burned the clearest of them all—The moment he had showed up to save her, his hair wet and skin bloody, standing the wooden doorway of the church.
It was in that moment, tied to a cross and bloody and bruised, that she realized no one would ever be beautiful as Mugen was to her in that moment. He had spoiled her for everyone to come. He was the flame and she was the moth, entranced by his killing power.
"I'm going to take her back."
She smiled as her remembered the rough words. Closing her eyes, she pictured his face; strong jaw lined with rough stubble, long sharp nose, intense eyes, and a hard mouth that constantly looked arrogant. She held her husband's course and callous hand, as she thought silently about the other man, I pray we meet again…
And then she was gone.
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Next chapter will be set in modern-day Tokyo and is the officially beginning of the story.
General Disclaimer To This Story- I do not own or make any profit off of Samurai Champloo or it's characters. I'm merely an art student having a little fun. I'm only going to post this once, cause I'm pretty sure I won't by owning them any time soon. T3T