T I T L E : Cruelty and the Beast
C H A P T E R : Chapter Five - Belle Reve
A U T H O R : ViviBell
R A T I N G : Light T - Mugen's poor language.
S P O I L E R S : Yush. Takes place after the series has ended.
P A I R I N G S : MugenxFuu MugenxOC
S U M M A R Y : We gott'a do some more back-tracking, foo'! More day-dreaming and a little bit of promise for a better Fuu and Mugen relationship.
D I S C L A I M E R : Don't own Samurai Champloo or any of its characters.

"Oof!"

Nekomi wheezed as she felt the air forced from her lungs.
Mugen was onto of her, grinning. He pinned her down with one hand against each shoulder, knees pressed against her sides.
Now sixteen, he had matured considerably. His lean figure had acquired some bulk; filling out what were skinny arms and a gangling torso, however his recent growth spurt counterbalanced this so that he remained as lean and lanky as before. He proudly sported the odd shoot of hair on the tip of his chin, and scratched it whenever possible to emphasis the fact that he was becoming a man – officially!

"Pinned ya… again," he gloated though his rejoicing over his victory was short lived. He had barely broken a sweat in the hour they had been wrestling, and while he was not very good with numbers and counting, he was pretty sure he had won all of his attacks. Not that he didn't mind winning or anything – he always did. But he preferred the challenge more than the fighting itself.
"Yo, what's up with you, girly?" He gripped her shoulders harder to bring her back to the present. She seemed to be staring beyond him, right into the canopy of trees that engulfed them. "I mean, you're bad, but you can normally squeeze out a tackle or two," he continued, hoping his remark would bring the fight back into her. He felt her fingers against his flank, and he braced himself for what he thought would be an assault.
Instead, he felt her cold digits rake painlessly across his sides, pressed under the loose fitting of his undershirt. He felt her trace the outline of a large cut that had only just recently healed and the both of them flinched at the contact.

"Mugen…" she whispered, centering her gaze on him while she thumbed the gash once more, sizing up the wound with her fluttered touches.
Mugen removed himself from on top of her and raised himself to full height.

"Ah, don't go girl on me, Nekomi. I don't need that sympathy crap," he told her brusquely while he wiped himself down.

"But you're hurt." It was a passive comment – one that she's rehearsed. They had been in this situation before – when Mugen found himself cornered by a couple of new thugs or scrabbling over a piece of food out in the depths of the colony where even the Satsuma guards failed to go. Before she would complain which much more ferocity, nonetheless, it seemed after years of trying to help him her resolve faltered and she could only make feeble protests that she knew would be broken down by Mugen's stubbornness. But today, she was borderline of not caring at all.

It was not like he enjoyed the attention she gave him; fussing over the smallest cuts and bruises he sustained, however it did feel awkward that she was so apathetic.

"What'sup with you?" He arched a brow at her, hands on hips.

Nekomi had not moved from the ground – still thrown back against the ground below. Her hair was loose and it was splayed like a fan around her head, decorated by the odd twig or leaf that had become attached during her tumble to the earth.
She had grown but not at the same rate as Mugen. When they were twelve they were probably at equal height however, her nose just peaked above his shoulder. How long it would stay like that, he couldn't tell – he had a feeling that there was still some growing left in her.
The girl narrowed her eyes on him, peering down her small nose at Mugen who posed by her legs. Her eyes had a sad look about them, with the lids sagging over much of her irises.

"I'm leaving soon," she told Mugen, adverting her sights to the ground.

The atmosphere was ruined by the boy's loud grunt.

"You always leave," he reminded her. It wasn't as if she was admitting something new! Every year since she had first come to the island, there had been the cycle of her coming and going. School and the fact that she was on a penal colony forced her from her father's home after a few weeks of staying here, back to Satsuma. At first it was a strange adjustment. Mugen would see her one day and then after rekindling their relationship, he would catch her boarding a vessel back to her homeland. He'd wait an entire year before seeing that same ship; but every time it was new experience, seeing a new face peer over the bulk of the boat. It was different when you did not have the chance to watch someone grow up for the smallest of changes looked remarkable.

She shuffled awkwardly at his response, finally rolling into a sitting position. Mugen dropped down beside her, fingers automatically moving towards the grass to pull at the leaves and yank the roots from the soil.

"I…" she winced but shook off the notion. "I suppose your right."

"Mmm, 'course I am," he told her, scratching at his chin. He waited for the feeling he got when he was right – that click of satisfaction, but it wasn't there. He didn't enjoy gloating when she was willing to give into him. This wasn't any fun – and since his time was limited with her, he was going to have fun no matter what.
"Yo, what's up with you?"

"What are your parents like?"

"Huh?"

She was staring out into the glade with her arms wrapped around her knees, now pressed up against her chest.

"Your parents?"

"You know as hell that I ain't go not 'rents."

"But you don't remember them… at all? Or think about them?"

He began pulling harder at the grass. "No."

She was staring at him considerately and he allowed his temper get the better of him.

"They ditched me when I was still'a kid." He already hated where this was going. Nekomi was hardly one to dwell on such trivial matters – especially when she would be leaving. She was much more content to spend her last days savoring her freedom, outside her fortress walls. This was not like her and Mugen wasn't accustomed to change.
"Well whadd'a bout your mum, aye? Do you think of her?"

He did not comprehend the maternal bond Nekomi had with her mother. She never spoke about her, or even mentioned her name whenever the conversation arose. From his own background, Mugen could not grasp how she could grow to care for someone so deeply – having no relatives of his own meant he little experience with these matters. All he had were fragments of his past; snippets of being left behind and abandoned.
How could anyone with that upbringing, ever learn what it means to have the support and love of a family?

"Of course," she said simply. "Every day."

There was another one of those sickly pauses – where Mugen's abilities to communicate revealed their limits.

"I want to meet those friends of yours," she commented, continuing her tête-à-tête on a tangent.

"You don't – Nekomi – what the hell is wrong with you?"

Turning towards him, she offered him another feeble smile. Despite the flaccidity of it, it still eased Mugen. He had assumed if it was something grave or important that she would be wise enough to tell him – he expected that much from her at least. However, at this point in time he had yet to learn of the fickleness of women, and their innate instinct to lie and deceive.

"So-so when you go to Satsuma, what do you intend to do?"

Nekomi looked surprise as Mugen attempted to deter their conversation onto less anxious terms. Generally, he allowed Nekomi to manage the route of their discussions, simply because he did not want to say something foolish when the opportunity arose.
He hovered over her form before she decided to stand, trotting elegantly a few feet from where he stood. She flicked back her chocolate hair and peered at Mugen over her shoulder; batting her eyelashes as seductively as she could manage. He grinned ruefully in response and plopped down onto the ground with a gentle thud, refusing to remove his gaze from the sight of the fifteen year old as she swayed her arms to the non-existent beat. Her milky skin was revealed beneath the heavy folds of her kimono as she exposed her wrists with each flowing gesture of her arms; dancing, effectively with just her arms. Regardless of the soothing situation he found himself in, Mugen laughed.

"What are you doing?"

She began to hum a sweet melody, her eyes closed as she allowed her thoughts of dance and music to consume her. She gracefully turned to Mugen, now incorporating an easy sway of her hips and waist into the equation as the song progressed. Mugen did not have the heart to stop her. Even though he was slightly baffled by her performance, he felt the weight on his chest lighten as he watched her enjoying herself – back to normal; without this fuss of his family, or his personal life.
For the time being he was happy to observe from a distance. Although dancing was not something he found entertaining, it was because Nekomi was showing him another part of her that she had not revealed before, made it interesting to watch.

After some time, her humming stopped, and with it, her movement. She opened her eyes and glanced down at Mugen, confused; her eyes blinking rapidly as she stared back into his face as if she had just awoken from a trance. The smirk had not faded from his lips, and his cold, penetrating stare unnerved the girl. She shuffled foolishly, bringing her arms quickly down to her front while she blushed under his gaze. In a flash, all that elegance and flair had been swept away by her childish demeanor.

"Do you like it?"

"Well, what is it?"

She pouted and placed her hands on her hips. She was thin, and the stance emphasized her slender build as the bones in her shoulder, bulged outwards. "It's dancing! Can't you tell?"

"So… you are going to dance when you go back?"

She nodded enthusiastically, though he could still tell she was embarrassed by the matter.
"Yeah-huh! Well… I would like to, at least. I don't know if father would let me," she said. Once more, she looked sad – depressed, was a better word.
"It's just… now that I am betrothed, I don't think I will be able to live my life the way I want to…"

Mugen did not understand – he did not stand the word, 'betrothed' or the meaning of her phrase, and therefore, the source of her unhappiness. Again he felt this rage burn within him, no only because he could not relate to what she was saying, but because what she had told him had made her miserable and he could no nothing but gawp, nod, and accept whatever she had said as fact.

"And I am leaving," she said again.

Mugen once more, suppressed that feeling in his gut that there was something ominous to that phrase… a warning. The heart hears what it wants to hear.

"The dancing was… alright I guess," he told her with a yawn, stretching him arms above his head. It took all his energy to hide the satisfied grin as her cheeks puffed and her eyes grew narrow. "I mean, it's meant to be sexy, ain't it?"

"Yes…" she growled, indicating that she had tried hard to imitate what the real dancers would do.

"I ain't seeing sexy. You an' your boy's body don't do much for me 'nyway," he told her. His eyes were shut, but he had anticipated her attack, and caught her skillfully in his arms, his stomach only trembling as the girl lunged at him. She was giggling despite her failed effort to hurt him, and wriggled from his grasp. Her strange eyes were raised towards the canopy, peering through the gaps in the tree line at the ginger hue of the sky. She squealed and nearly kicked Mugen as she swirled round on her feet and dashed towards the opening of the glade; kimono in hand. Disgruntled, Mugen followed her; followed the sound of her labored breathing and the crackling noise of the vegetation that she stepped on; light and brief. It stopped relatively soon and Mugen too, slowed his gait as he neared the place where she had stopped. The thicket had cleared with the waning branches still shaking from the assault from the Satsuma resident.
The image of Nekomi manifested as he crept closer, pushing past the last stretch of green into the open peak of a cliff that overlooked the sea beneath. The blue temptress was unusually docile, calmly lapping at the shore beneath; colored a dark navy by the setting sun. Above, the clouds were few, but plump; like little swabs of cotton that were stuck randomly against the canvas of the sky. Nekomi was there, arms flailed outwards slightly by her sides, with her hand whipping round the sides of her neck in the direction of the prevailing wind. As Mugen approached her, she did not acknowledge him – not until he was right next to her overlooking the quaint image of the shoreline and the settlement in the distance.

"I wish I could stay here forever," she told him. "Just… away from everyone that I know; away from Satsuma and…"

She did not have the heart to continue. One hand was bawled in a fist by her chest, her eyes fixated on the horizon in spite of the harsh glare of the sun. Suddenly, one hand attached itself to Mugen's, slipping between the gaps in his fingers. He was startled and tried to pull away but she held on tight, not allowing him to escape. Mugen stared down at her hand, and saw how small it was in comparison to his. They were so thin and fragile – delicate hands that had never had to do a day of hard work.
When he looked up at her face again, he could see that she was crying. Moist streaks lined her face, and adjacent to her soft smile, Mugen felt his stomach give another painful lurch.

Something bad was going to happen.

Something horrible.

But he couldn't say anything.

Because he doesn't want to think about it -

He doesn't want to be right again.

The heart hears what it wants to hear.

"I told you! Look – look, its there! The forest!"

"Huh?"

"You do a lot of day-dreaming, you know?" Fuu said testily before point a finger in the direction of dense vegetation short distance away.
Mugen just passed Fuu without the smallest interest; his hands curled causally behind his head. His eyes were still shut to savor the remains of his day-dream, fancying that he was still perched on the edge of the cliff. The pain in his gut caused him to convulse and return to the present.

"Whoopty-fucking-do. Why you so surprised, huh? I thought you knew where you were going. This shit shouldn't surprise you. If anyone should be surprised it should be me."

"Why? Don't think woman can follow directions?"

"No – just you. Fuck, you are the best at getting' lost in fucking cities. It's a god-damn miracle that you found the way here."

"HEY! Whad-da bout all those times you got us lost, huh?"

"I'm never lost – I always know where I am at, n' where I'm headin'," he said defensively.

"Geeze. What's with you? You've been grumpy the whole day? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, or what?"

Mugen smiled viciously and scratched the back of his neck. "More like the wrong side of a dream," he muttered under his breath, earning a 'huh' from Fuu who thought she was being addressed. When he waved her down, she assumed what he had said was another crude insult.

"Mugen, I swear I will just let you figure this out on your own if you don't start-" Her stomach grumbled; grumbled so loudly in fact, that Fuu had to stop mid-way through her sentence. She blushed and her arms wrapped round her stomach as if to muffle the echo of the rumble from Mugen. He had already heard it, and was peering through the gap in his crooked arms.

"Mugen…I'm hungry."

"Aarg, Fuu – you eat like a pig!"

Four days of traveling with her and he had already rehearsed all his lines: bitch, piggy, bitch, bitch, idiot. Mornings and afternoons of endless walking with Fuu whining and questioning him followed by restless nights being tormented by dreams had made him surprisingly tolerable. In his exhaustion he was too tired to protest to many of Fuu's remarks and grew to accept her quicker than he would have liked to admit. At this point he could barely emphasis his comment about her being a pig!

"Mugen…"

"Ah, screw this! Go find something to eat-"

"But-"

"But, what?"

He heard her rummaging in her packet of goodies, cursing under her breath.

"We are out of food."

Mugen's scarred brow twitched as he heard her mumbled the words. They didn't sink into his head for quite sometime, but his body automatically stopped as if his entire brain had to function to comprehend what she had told him.

"Out-of-food?"

She had already anticipated his anger and began to recount how she had not consumed the entire weeks worth of food in the few days they had traveled.

"You eats lots too! You ate the last bits of the dango last night!"

"The dango?" He scanned his memory trying to recall what had happened the previous night before.

"'Ugen! Giff 'em baff!" Fuu was waving her hands trying to grab the few remaining roasted dumplings from the fireplace; battling with Mugen's nimble fingers as he plucked them from their resting place. Fuu had her mouth full of food and barely had time to register his movements. Before she could even get up, Mugen had mounds of soggy dango shoved into his mouth.

He knew he had eaten it, but he was not going to let the wench pin the blame on him.

"Oi, you cooked the stuff. You would'a eaten them 'nyway."

Although they loved to argue, both were too hungry to bicker and set aside their blaming for later.

"We still need food."

Giving his wild hair a rub, Mugen's sights settled beyond the fringe of the forest. There was nothing but trees, road and dirt to be seen for miles on end, however, Mugen knew that there was a place they could travel to where they could stock up on a few necessities. His lower jaw jutted as he thought harder, trying to remember. It was so long ago now that the entire scenery was a blur of old sights and smells that meshed into some incomprehensible recollection.
Soundlessly, he turned back, heading diagonally from the small pathway that they had taken to. Fuu, rather than argue on the stop, waddled behind.

"We are going the wrong way, Mugen," she informed him with a hint of urgency in her voice. She was still hungry and did not intend to remain quiet while her guardian wandered in whatever direction pleased him. Mugen was not the most consistent character after all.

"We gotta head back some onto the main road. There's an old place that used to stock some food and shit… I think I know how to get there, 'least."

"You been there before?"

"Yeah. Once."

Fuu nibbled cautiously while she spoke. She was uncertain whether she should continue. Mugen had not slept well the night before. She had heard him while he slept; groaning and kicking at the mattress. He never spoke; simply gave guttural, animalistic sounds that reminded her of livestock she had seen slaughtered in town – when the sharp knife did not do its job properly, and the poor creature would suffer for moments longer. He would be testier than usual and since they were on poor grounds without food, she honestly believed he would knock her out and leave her in a ditch somewhere if she said something out of line.

"Uh. Would you like me to stay and wait for you here then?" she asked him cheerfully, hoping that her offer to leave him alone would please him. It did the very opposite.

"Like hell you're staying here! I ain't leavin' a twerp like you on your own," he told her firmly, casting a disappointed – you are such a retard – glower before he stormed off a head. It was only a little past midday, but apparently Mugen was not willing to take the chance of leaving her on her own. Perhaps he was beginning to value her company now that he had grown accustomed to it once more.

Fuu smiled happily as the concept rolled into her mind, head lowered to disguise her cheerfulness with the hurt she was meant to feel by saying such an idiotic thing.

Things were finally beginning to look up.

N O T E S : A massive thanks, AGAIN to all my reviewers and subscribers! I love all the comments I am getting. Its such an ego boost. -sticks chest out proudly-
AND I AM SO SORRY this rubbish chapter took so long to complete! I was just so busy, and for the past three days, I've had no internet. I finished this post just went the internet when
bust - as is my luck.
This is more of a filler. The next chapter is promised to have more informational goodness. Stay tuned, lovies!
-hands out cookies-

Music that I listed to while writing this was, 'Hanging By a Moment' by Lifehouse for the day-dream sequence, and then, some good ol' 'Sweet Home Alabama' by Lynard Skinard.

Coming up...

"You look so much like him," she told him wistfully.
"Sorry lady. It ain't me. Never been here before."
Mugen turned away from the old woman's potent gaze, watching Fuu who was glancing through layers upon layers of rice sacs and old containers of food.
The elderly shop-keeper seemed to remember herself and too, adverted her sight to stare at Fuu. Nonetheless, her expression remained forlorn, and her glazed eyes had a mysterious gleam to them.
"I suppose you're right." She forced out a laugh. "These eyes don't see as well as they used to anymore."