Chapter 34 The Ideal "If"
{Original Title: If Only She Knew}
[A/N]: Mouuu. Tsukaremashita. Well, I tried to post this asap. Took me ONE WEEK after the last chapter to get this out there. I'm floundering to make up for that 7 month hiatus.
To guest reviewer, :O glad it wasn't forgotten. This is my fastest update in years! ...which is honestly sad.
To guest reviewer Alyza, thanks ^^ Be careful what you wish for :P
To guest reviewer Lovingadream, hahaha! I hated that cloud last chapter as well. I keep trolling the feels a little too much. This chapter, of course, is no exception. :P Oh yeah, FF review page is weird that some symbols don't show up. Thanks for the broken hearts lmao.
To guest reviewer AmberDee, this review made me laugh XD I hope you weren't praying for this. I'll definitely be updating as much as my schedule will allow again.
In June of 2015, guest reviewer Lexy had a suggestion that I write a chapter where they dream of each other, or perhaps Mugen has a dirty dream and sees Fuu more as a woman. While I have seen this concept, I wanted to do a unique twist. This idea sprung a whole chapter, so this is partially your fault Lexy :P If you are still reading, I hope you enjoy the angst you caused.
This is honestly a very big risk chapter for me since I don't know how anyone will react.
It is semi-standalone, plot not connecting to other chapters. However, it is important for Mugen and Fuu's developing relationship. Might be pushing boundaries, might be considered OOC. But there's been one part of their romance I've barely touched upon: suppressing one's physical attraction. There's more sexual themes within, but NO explicit description to be rated M, but definitely more innuendo than even I'm used to. (Don't get your hopes up too fast guys) ;P
No matter what you read, no matter how upsetting it may seem, please press on, for it's a bumpy ride of twists and turns. That's all I'll say. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, Fuu, Mugen, Jin, Momo etc. I bow down to the glorious masters who have created the anime, despite my jealousy.
Chapter 34 The Ideal "If"
Shadows flicker and frolic upon the wood slatted, translucent paper. In a gentle rhythm, their bare bodies, slick with sweat, gently rock against one another in the tiny little room. Pleasured cries—her pleasured cries—echo in his ears, spreading a wave of heat to his loins.
His view is blurred, as if seeing everything from behind a glass window encased by winter frost.
The erotic sight still easily excites him; seeing her there, milky legs spread, her little hands grasping at the futon below her.
From outside looking inward, he is watching it all unfold. Hearing every detail. Not touching. Not feeling her smooth skin that his fingers desire to caress.
It's not him.
And suddenly...the building arousal dies. There is no more heat, not even cold. Numbness squeezes every nerve until he cannot feel a thing anymore.
The face of the man atop her is not in his line of sight. Ghostly skin brandished by cuts is the visage to haunt his curiosity. One such scar trails from the man's ribs, forming a line across his abdomen. Long strands of black hair slope down the figure's broad shoulders, swaying to and fro with every thrust. Her small hands reach to the man's face, pulling off something...something… Two shards of clear glass shimmer in the lantern light. They are tossed somewhere nearby. She sifts her fingers through the man's scalp, gripping harder on the dark lengths as his pace increases.
Realization curses him.
Every jerk of his hips against her, every sweet little sound she lets out as a result...it only makes his guts writhe like serpents devouring his stomach.
Her pink lips part, moaning out a single word. One name. Blades and bullets be damned, all it takes is that one name from Fuu's lips to kill Mugen.
"...Jin..."
Like a roar of a rabid animal, a strangled holler broke the silence as the sleeping vagrant thrashed himself awake. His tattooed arms flailed for anything in reach. Something to grip, something to grip so hard it would break. Cold sweat coated every inch of his tan skin, glistening like dew in the glow cast by a paper lamp nearby. He gagged on the constricting humid air and held back from vomiting dinner all over the tatami floor.
'Just a dream. Just a fucking dream.'
Mugen swallowed, finally catching his breath. He sat up in a futon. The surrounding room of the inn looked very similar to the one in the world of sleep. Somehow, he must've clawed himself out of that awful nightmare. Reality never seemed sweeter. ...But then her voice shot through his spine like a scorched pincer.
"Mugen, are you okay?!"
Fully clothed, and very much concerned, Fuu sat on the floor mat nearby, an abacus in hand. Their bag of coins and a notepad laid at her knees. Her fast fingers had stopped calculating their traveling expenses the moment she'd heard his dream induced mumbles.
He didn't answer, didn't even want to look in that general direction. The Fuu of his dreams resembled the Fuu of reality far too greatly, and the mere thought of what transpired there, in a fictional land, caused him to retch over the mattress again.
"...You don't look so good. Was it a bad dream?"
"What's it to you?" he spat.
Her chocolate gaze softened, though she let out an understated sigh rather than push it. Returning to her chore, she continued to slide and click the wooden beads on the soroban counting grid. "You were moving a lot, and then you yelled. It startled me."
Normality returned as did his coherency: they arrived in Kyoto city today, still on the way to the four-eyed ronin. ...And the girl with no knowledge of sex or seduction had never slept with Jin.
'Not yet.' he grimaced for a slew of reasons he'd rather not account for.
Despite forcing himself not to peer across the room, his eyes tricked him once again, just as his subconscious did. They gradually found their way to her, scanning over even the most subtle of expressions. The girl in pink inaudibly counted something on her fingers. Throughout this journey, her shiny locks of chocolate hair had grown even longer than before; a strand fell in front of her eyes. She blew at it with a pout. It was cute, he had to admit.
Something with her math upset her, and soon she puffed her cheeks out with indecision, vigorously scratching her head. She licked her thumb, and madly flipped through the notepad's pages, scribbling numbers down. Mugen took notice of the glossy pink of her now dampened lower lip. And just like in his dream, a hot sensation flooded his body, all the way down to his toes.
It just wasn't right, staring at her like this, dreaming of her like that.
Fuu was Fuu was FUU. Nobody else.
"Fuckin' hell."
"Eh?"
"Nothing. Just...nothing."
In all their time traveling, Mugen never thought he'd dream of his two traveling companions in a sexual encounter together. (Once, he'd had the misfortune of dreaming the four-eyed bastard bathed in the burning teahouse, but that was only out of his belief of Jin being homosexual, he assured himself. Mugen wanted to stay far away from that shit.) As for how many times he'd dreamt of her naked...those times...more than once and surely less than twenty, had only been the imagination trying to fill in gaps lingering in the realms of curiosity. That was all. That had to be all.
Options were limited; he'd do anything to get the image of her out of his head. With eyes open, she'd be there, sweet smile and girlish voice ripping out his insides. And eyes closed, in what should've been a harem of busty vixens...there was the chance she'd be there too.
She grew on him—of course she did. He could accept that. But fuck if he felt attracted to her. No doubt, this had to be some cruel side-effect resulting from not getting laid in several months. Months. Dear lord.
That's when it hit him in the brain like a bolt of lightning. He knew exactly what he needed to get out of this pathetic rut. These strange thoughts of the no sex appeal brat would simply melt away tonight. He'd make sure of it.
"How much dough we got?" he casually asked, getting up quietly from the mattress.
"Well, our total is… Let's see…" Entirely unaware of his intentions, she clicked through the abacus beads once more. "One ryo, twelve shu, and some spare mon. We've already paid for three nights here. It was 200 mon per person each night though. I figured we could do some sightseeing in Kyoto since that lady in white really helped us out with that two extra ryo on our winnings. If we're frugal, we should have enough for another month or two."
He'd stopped listening after the first few words. His feet approached, stopping right in front of the girl.
Fuu saw him staring down at her. Her trusting smile ripped a breath straight out of him.
"What's up?"
He bent down and swore on his life her cheeks changed to that light rosy shade he liked best.
Dammit, he was doing it again, thinking of her in ways best not thought of.
Before some stupid moral part of his mind tried to hamper it, his bony fingers snatched the hefty pink coin purse from the floor.
She hadn't even moved to stop him. "What...what are you doing?"
Her smile vanished, and Gods above, he felt glad for that. The ex-pirate didn't know what the foolish woman expected. A former pirate stole. To think more of him was her fault; not his. After that, Mugen didn't say anything, just shoved her wallet in his clothes and slipped on both geta. "Catch ya later!" he darted, waving backwards at the dumbfounded Fuu...who gradually pieced together what had transpired.
"Mugen, hey! MUGEN!"
Long after he made it to the main boulevard, the desperate calls of Fuu continued, but he didn't stop and she didn't even step past the border of the room to give chase. Sightseeing in Kyoto… 'What an idiot.' They just didn't appreciate the same sort of sights.
Round crimson lanterns bobbed from above, brightening the dark clothes of the sea of men welcoming him into the fold. Mugen seriously could not recall the last time he'd been to one of these havens, aside from the time in Autumn when he'd freed the careless Fuu from such. Fuu… He cursed under his breath. Memories still lingered wherever he went even though she physically could not follow him here. Two burly guards stood at the entrance of the area, basket-shaped hats on their heads. They peered through the straw for any woman who dared to approach.
Midnight hours at the Red Light District were always the most packed. Groups huddled around the caged displays of women. Some of the prostitutes flirted at the edges of the bars, while others coyly hid half of their faces behind the sleeves of their robes.
Kyoto stood as the very foundation of the pleasure districts in Japan, and so he'd make sure to get a good bang for his buck. Literally.
He entered one of the fancier joints he could find.
Of course, Mugen didn't want to do the whole formal affair with a holier than thou whore: those ones requested three dates before a lay. He never understood the point of dragging it out like that, so he avoided the highest priced brothel in the area. He just wanted to get to the nitty-gritty, and he made sure to clarify that to the proprietor of the next best brothel that awaited his arrival at the counter. The strings on the coin purse were loosened, and its contents spilled across the lacquer table with several metal clangs.
The owner peered down at the pile, confusion evident. Mixed in with the coins was a great abundance of black seeds. The man's pudgy fingers greedily lunged for the large gold coin and eight of the silver.
"That will be more than enough sir! We appreciate your patronage!"
Mugen moved to pour the leftover silver and brass currency back into the purse. That's when he'd noticed what the brothel host had been eyeing so oddly.
Sunflower seeds.
On the morning they left Uji...he'd pointed them out in the flowery field to his companion. The happy girl had scooped up handfuls, so many slipping through her fingers, and had placed them in the confines of her pink wallet. 'Maybe one day...when this journey ends, I can plant them at Jin's dojo.' she'd said, so outrageously exuberant over the fact, and he'd merely grunted in answer.
Pain returned to his stomach. Another thought of that damn girl and her samurai and he might just lose his libido tonight. Though he briefly thought of tossing them away, he begrudgingly stuffed the pile of seeds back into the coin purse.
The owner led him to the viewing area inside the building, where these women were not held by bars. Many sat, legs crossed over foreign chairs, or kneeled on the detailed rugs. All of the ladies smiled at the rogue, probably planning to devour him sexually the moment he came into view. Some even giggled amongst each other. The entire group stood, bowing at his entrance.
"Welcome sir! How may we serve you?" they chimed in unison.
Perhaps if there had been more money...he could've bought two women for an extra fun night.
"You can have any gal you like… I'll have you know, some of them are pretty feisty in the sack."
One woman, perhaps a few years older than him, smiled coquettishly from the back of the group. She fanned herself with a silk uchiwa. Mugen grinned her way, and she mockingly placed the fan in front of her rouge coated lips to feign shyness. Out of all the courtesans, her enticing body filled out her clothes so well, that the fabric stretched over just the right areas. The dipping neckline of her bright red tomesode revealed just a teasing glimpse of full, globular breasts. Far larger than Fuu's. Both her eye shadow and lipstick matched the scarlet cloth. The rest of her ghost white makeup contrasted black hair adorned with over a dozen decorative hairpins. Elegant blossoms hung from the kanzashi. So much different from Fuu's rosy cheeks and brown tresses. Perfect.
In every way, the sensual woman embodied the Red Light District fantasy.
"Her. I'll take her." Mugen pointed and unslung the leather strap and claymore from his shoulder. He thrust them at the host.
"Ah, fine choice. That is Yubae." The owner elbowed him in the rib, whispering "You're in for a wild night."
The other women giggled into their hands and then bowed once again, filtering back to the other rooms where they could speak with potential clients.
"To whom do I owe the pleasure?" asked the courtesan.
"The name's Mugen, babe."
"Mugen. I like that." Yubae batted her dark eyelashes up at him and grasped his hand, leading them to the second floor for the evening's activities.
"Why do men have to be such jerks, Momo-san?"
The determined flying squirrel ignored the question, haphazardly inching the blue dragon designs on the wallpaper of the room's interior. By the end of the night, it seemed he planned to crawl across every single one of the flying beast's scales.
Sighing, Fuu lifted her arms above her to stretch. "When a little girl flying squirrel likes you...you better treat her right..."
Fuu may have been naïve (as Mugen loved to repeat) but she wasn't stupid. She knew exactly where he went tonight. No words that could have been said would have changed it. No matter how hard she could've tugged on his arm, or how much she could've pleaded for him not to, he still would've shrugged the feeble girl away, voicing a thick swear.
So she simply hadn't bothered.
This arrangement wasn't new. Never was. There were times on their past journey for the sunflower samurai where he'd run off full speed to those places, one time even dragging Jin along! How her chest throbbed tortuously, flinging her back to those days when she awaited his return, ready to dish out a thousand and one complaints. On this particularly gloomy night though, face slumped into her knees...she doubted there would be any effort left to yell about anything. Kyoto's women of the night were renowned the country over. It should've been her job to steer them away from the city altogether.
The shoji door laid ajar by a few inches, allowing a line of moonlight to repress the darkness that engulfed half of the inn room. She could have just as easily lit more lamps nearby, to keep the shadows at bay…
But…the real reason she'd left the sliding panel a crack open was so he'd find which room to return to. Knowing Mugen, he was so busy, that he'd probably forgotten the one they rented.
Slapping both her cheeks simultaneously, the pouting girl hopped to her feet. Far too much time got wasted thinking about how he spent his. Maybe a nice, hot soak would do the trick in destroying any thought of that brutish man.
With masterful elegance, the courtesan bent her wrist, pouring a stream of hot sake into the choko cup. Only a moment after handing it to her patron, he downed it easily and threw the empty glass to a far-off corner of the room. Laughing into her hand, the woman shuffled closer to the bed he laid on, "Sooo, do you live in Kyoto?"
Mugen stretched and rolled his shoulders, "Just passin' through."
"I see. What do you do for a living?"
Despite what the woman thought, he wasn't stupid. Everyone in the brothel took notice of his prison tattoos, knew that his previous professions were not the lawful kind. Maybe that sense of danger had enticed them. The courtesan only played nice to get a tip, but wasn't she the fool to believe he'd leave one merely for pleasant conversation.
"Listen, why don't we forget the chit-chat and cut to the chase. I'm payin' a lot of money for you…"
Her plastic smile didn't waver. "As you wish, Mugen-sama."
While he winced at the way she hoarsely said his name, he allowed the woman to pad over on all fours, and climb atop him, swinging both thighs on each side of his hips. Yubae unfastened her golden obi, and slipped the scarlet robes from her body so quickly, it sucked out the hope of having a striptease. There, on top of Mugen sat the first naked woman he'd seen in a long while. Just as he imagined, she had the largest breasts he'd seen on a woman since he first arrived on the mainland five years ago. In utter awe, he merely sat back and watched. She discarded the robes on the floor behind her, and leaned against him, teasingly gyrating her hips. Mugen sucked in air. That was a mistake. Strong perfume snaked into his nostrils until he couldn't breathe.
Her hands made quick work of his haori, and then the shirt underneath. Long red nails traced his toned abdominals up to his chest and, then higher. But then...she stopped at the Buddhist prayer beads laced around his neck.
"You don't look like the religious type." the woman chuckled, as her fingers fiddled with the shiny, sea green crescent tied at the end.
Suddenly, Mugen's hand flew up and gripped her flimsy wrist. He squeezed hard, causing the courtesan to wince in pain.
He growled. "That stays."
The courtesan let go of the magatama charm.
"Forgive me." she said, giving another fake smile. Mascara lined lashes batted down at him before closing. Sliding her tongue across her scarlet red lips, she neared his mouth. With a sardonic grin, Mugen pulled Yubae's supple waist against his now nude torso.
"Let's let the good times roll, eh."
So easily...he pins her entire nude body to the floor. With cerulean ringed arms on each side of her head, she has nowhere to escape. The truth is, she does not want to. Lost completely in his piercing gaze of steel, she is certain, yet terrified of what she desires.
"Mugen...I…"
"Shut it, girlie."
He kisses her so fast that she does not register that he's already pushed her legs apart...and moved. With thrust after thrust, a constant rush of pleasure invades every part of her. Knowing not what else to do, her pink nails dig into his wide shoulders to hold on. Her desperate grip grows so tight that her knuckles turn white. His grunts of pleasure weave into her cries of passion for all to hear. She doesn't care. No one exists. Just her and him. Together.
Kiss after kiss is planted on every inch of tawny, rough skin in reach. As she finds his lips again, he welcomes her tongue, lapping at the organ so softly...so unlike him. Everything the man does to her sends a thousand tingles alighting her flesh. Mugen's mouth soon completely engulfs hers; she can hardly breathe.
She can't breathe.
She really couldn't breathe!
Submerged entirely underwater, the frantic woman's lungs were close to bursting.
Mustering all her strength, she reached up and gripped the sides of the barrel and heaved herself above water-level. Fuu painfully gasped for oxygen, choking and sputtering up the scalding bathwater that had filled her entire airway.
Dying in a bathroom just wasn't a dignifying way to go.
Unaware of how long she'd been sleeping for, she still heard nothing from the bedroom beside her, and no one broke the door down to check for her safety; Mugen probably hadn't returned yet. Coughing up the last remaining liquid, the girl inhaled sharply and finally allowed her thumping heart to relax. However, her palpitating chest did not get the respite it needed...the moment the memory of what she'd been dreaming of invaded her conscious.
'That dream…' Recounting the events that had transpired in a make-believe world caused the girl to shiver despite the warmth of the water encasing her body. Everything about it felt far too real.
...A strange ache lingered in the space between her thighs; the thought of it immediately caused her to blush. Rubbing her legs together only worsened the feeling.
Just once. Just once she could…
Choosing to relax, the blushing girl rested the back of her head against the rim of the tub. Just once Fuu could allow herself this pleasure; it was only human nature, after all.
Her hand ghosted below the warm water, passed her chest and stomach.
'Mugen…'
He was probably still...
Enjoying himself…while she propped her back against the bathtub wall, trying hard to breathe in.
Fuu's fingers dipped below her waist.
She knew his lips tasted the painted mouth of some dolled up courtesan, while Fuu's own mouth had begun to quiver. She knew his hands pawed at the whore's robes, and skin, while her own hand dug into the wood of the tub, turning paler by the second. The other continued its descent.
The pain of realization shot through her. She snapped her hand out of the bathwater.
No. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't. All of her dignity would be forfeit from this small action that no one would know about. How could she live knowing she pleasured herself thinking of him, as he pleasured another woman? Embarrassed and ashamed, the red-faced girl abruptly scrambled out of the wooden barrel, allowing the night air to shock her soaked body back to its rightful senses.
Fuu sneezed, once, twice, then three times. 'I hope I'm not getting sick again.' she remarked in mind, wrapping the cotton towel around her cold, exposed frame. Pulling on the bath juban the inn provided, Fuu gathered her pink kimono and closed the bathroom door. She returned to the inn room, throwing her clothes on the floor near her bedside, and vigorously shook her wet hair into the towel until it appeared dry enough.
Something had fallen from the clothes she carried and glimmered in the lamplight...something glass. Curious, the girl went to retrieve whatever it was. Bending down, the girl smiled, wrapping her fingers tightly around the sentimental object. 'All of these crazy adventures just to return your glasses, Jin. Don't laugh at us when we see you again.' she giggled.
The commotion at the shoji door almost caused her to lunge for her pink blossom dagger.
To her surprise, it hadn't been an intruder ready to snatch Fuu away into the night.
Stumbling through the door frame, a slack-jawed, swearing Mugen came into view, dangling a nearly empty jug of sake in hand. He eyed her once, then glared at the pair of weathered glasses clutched against her bosom.
Fuu turned around, sitting back down on her futon and tucked the lens' back into her floral kimono sprawled across the floor.
Having pushed shut the door far more roughly than necessary, the loud bang shot Fuu to a straight sitting position. The moonlight disappeared, leaving only the iridescence of the lantern beside her.
"…Do you have to be so loud?" Venom laced the words.
"I'll be as fuckin' looooud as I feel like." Slurs were beyond evident. The liquor bottle slipped from his loose clutches, soaking drops of the remaining alcohol into the light green tatami.
"And you stink of booze!" she added in.
Not only did he reek like he'd been bathing in a distillery, Mugen staggered across the room in an intoxicated dance. First, he tripped over a mound of pillows, hurtling forward, and then barely managed to catch himself on the wall. Everything spun but through the blurry curtain, he saw her sitting there. Just like in that damn dream, the view of her appeared clouded and almost...distant.
She continued wringing out her damp brown hair into the towel, her grip suddenly much stronger. "How much did you spend."
Drunken Mugen dug into his short hakama, and retrieved the pink item in question.
A coin purse—far less heavy than when it'd left—landed beside the futon mattress. Due to not being properly sealed, its contents scattered across the floor: one shu...twenty mon...and many sunflower seeds. With that pathetic amount of currency, they couldn't even rent a fourth night at this inn.
"I can't believe it! You wasted all of it!"
Briefly, Mugen tried replaying the night's events over, though most memories of it remained drenched in sake. "Yeah. Th' bitch didn't even gimme my money's wurth."
Fuu frowned in utter disgust. "What is wrong with you?! Why are you acting like this?!"
"Actin' like wut?!" he scowled.
"A complete asshole! You just took all of our savings and spent it at some brothel!" No matter how hard she tried to contain it, her voice went high and her whole body shook. For once, the lack of money was the smallest of concerns. Mugen would not be allowed to know of this.
But taking the whole drunken bout for granted, words came out that definitely shouldn't have.
"Why…why do you always have to go with those whores?"
"'Cuuuz, they're everythin' youuuu ain't."
"Am I really that much less...attractive?"
The question startled him. "Hah?"
She hugged her knees, talking more to herself than him. "…What makes them so much better than me?"
The two lounge around the Hamamatsu inn, the unwavering patter of rain filling the gaps between their voices. Ever annoyed, the girl continues to spout complaints concerning Jin's recent behavior; visiting a courtesan daily. In truth, Mugen even has to give the tight-wad samurai props.
Over three times, she taps her fingers against the windowsill soaked by the storm, "...Anyway, what does he need with another woman when I'm around?"
Catching him entirely off guard, Mugen's attention strays from Rodrigues the beetle struggling to drag a rock tied to a rope. He gawks at her somewhat with disbelief from where he leans on an elbow. "Oh, so you're sayin' you wanna be his girl?"
"I-I didn't…"
"Big talk comin' from a girl so flat."
She gasps, "I'm the type of girl who looks more slender in clothing!" Flaunting herself, the bragging woman raises her elbow in an attempt to pose.
"You big liar."
"I am not!"
Now he's downright curious what the girl could possibly be hiding under those bulky pink robes. "Then let's see what ya got."
"Brace yourself because it's an eyeful!" Certainty dissolves almost instantly; bashful as ever, the blushing girl flips around and fiddles her hands. "...No, I shouldn't…"
Her bravado easily shrinks, just as she suspects. So easy to read. What a simple girl. "Oh, you're jealous huh." Mugen rolls over, disinterested gaze finding the wall. How predictable after all...
"Huh? Of course I'm not jealous. What in the world would give you the idea that I'm jealous!" Her voice drops low, taking on a mocking tone. "Lone wolf wannabees like him that always have blank expressions, and you can never tell what they're thinking are SO not my type!" She crosses her arms, pouting.
The high, squeaky quality of her pitch only furthers his belief. The silly woman is so obviously crushing on the boring bastard; what she possibly saw in him, he could not understand. Annoyed at the constant sentences and denials pouring from her, he rolls over, feigning a snore. This certainly infuriates the wench; at least she'd shut her trap though.
"You fell asleep?!"
So many times...Mugen pretends to sleep, pretends he doesn't hang off of every aggravating word. Tonight, he doubts sleep will even find him at all. Perhaps...later...he will eavesdrop on her and Jin's conversations concerning Kohana the prostitute.
That was not a dream; that was an old memory.
"You really wanna'know the answer ta'that?"
"Yes! I do! What is so great about those prostitutes that a girl like me doesn't have?! I have a lot going for me! Why do you always find the need to belittle me?!"
Too many dangerous questions filled the room, the likes of which were better left unanswered.
Never had Fuu asked Jin if she were good enough, and this was the second instance where she sought validation from him instead. His validation surely was the last thing she'd want. Alas, her expectant glare still awaited a response...and with little care left, Mugen decided to give her one.
Before she knew it, a giant shadow doused the entire futon mattress of lantern light. Instinctively, her back and head collided with the blue inn wall to retrieve the distance from him he'd suddenly stolen. He kneeled right in front of where she sat. The worst part about was, he kept getting closer.
Heat coursed through his every vein, boiling his blood, just like all that time ago. Every inhibition he'd had before was thrown far from this little room.
"…'Cuuz when I do this to 'em, they don't start squirmin'… "
With only that statement as a warning, the man gripped onto her wrist, pulling her body flush against his. A shriek escaped her. "M-Mugen! What are you doing?!"
To him, she smelled of fresh rain and sweet spring flowers.
To her, he reeked of sake and cheap perfume from the whore he'd bought.
She didn't know why she'd bothered pushing him to the limit. Mugen showed to be inebriated beyond the line of logicality, and yet she didn't believe he'd ever do anything to hurt her…
"I know yer' heart is racin' right now."
Her mouth opened to protest...yet swallowed down any words that threatened to emerge. She tried to regain them, but being wrapped up in his inked arms only made pride and anger retreat.
More garbles came out. "And they gots lots moreda' grab."
No time was given to analyze the insult...because his actions were far different.
Calloused hands searched and found her wide hips, thankfully not her breasts. The contact immediately sent shock waves traversing every part of her body. It grew worse when he squeezed. Clumsily, she fell back against the wall, bringing Mugen with her. This did not stop him from palming other various parts of her shielded only by white cloth: her legs...her stomach… Though the thin juban separated skin from skin, his powerful hands kneaded her torso hard enough for it to be felt, and the resulting torrent of pleasure caused sounds she didn't know she could make to tumble from her lips. "A-ah! Mu-Mugen…"
For someone who barely could stand upright, he sure knew how to work his hands.
Teetering slightly, Mugen leaned an inch from the side of her face. This close, the pungent stench of the booze on his breath became more evident than ever. Fuu tried to lean away; she did try...but... What disgust she did have, somehow faded the moment hot breaths trailed along her collarbone. They followed a deviously slow path up her neck. "When I do things like dhat, they don't e'in blush. They're... used to it. Ya know hoooow...red your face is?"
She did not...but she could guess. Of all their compromising incidences, nothing ever turned out like this.
All of it had to be some type of elaborate dream her overactive imagination concocted; this is what Fuu told herself repeatedly to destroy the burning ache. It wasn't.
It was real. He was real. His drunken voice, his alcohol scent...his…
...his amazing touch.
Two forceful hands returned to her hips, pressing the girl's withering body against him. ...Fuu swore something foreign pressed hard against her leg. The thought of what it could possibly be immediately sent more chills coursing through her nerves. She prayed it was his tanto dagger. Her rigorous pulse banged so loudly in her ears that this time, she might actually go deaf from it. Whimpering, Fuu scrambled to push him. Hands quickly found his hard pectoral muscles. Instead of pushing...they laced around the front of his shirt, balling the cotton fabric into weak fists.
Another squeak slipped through her clenched teeth the moment he pressed her waist harder against his torso.
"…Th' sounds deh make are all, all...practiced. Like they've been rehearsin' it… You though, ya can't help makin' noises like dhat."
Perplexed, Fuu did not understand why he'd once said things to insult her. And yet, the last words to leave him sounded more insulting towards the brothel women who faked and acted their way through their shameful career.
"Mm...Wha...Mugen…"
It scared her how she didn't want him to stop. All she could do was repeat his name, again and again: the more she said it, the more it certainly egged him on. Soon enough, she'd fall so far down this dark hole, that there would be no way back up. Somehow, someway, being this close to the drunken man, caused her to feel woozy...as if she'd drank up every part of him.
"Mugen…"
It terrified her more than anything before, how in his arms she'd succumbed to the roaring fire that was Mugen. How steamy his breaths were… How warm his hands felt… It was so hot in here. Relinquishing the stuffy bathrobe became more and more of a favorable idea. Mugen seemed to think the same. He'd already torn the thin fabric down her shoulders. Without wrappings...this left the top hills of her breasts visible.
His eyes focused on her chest that appeared far larger than he'd always given her credit for. A stray drop of water fell from her dampened hair. It slid down her neck, then her collarbone before it disappeared behind the fabric that only revealed a teasing glimpse of her cleavage. Fast enough that Fuu had not noticed, he licked his lips.
That adorable blush made her cheeks glow once again. Fuu thought that Mugen's advances couldn't surprise her anymore. That couldn't be farther from the truth.
His mouth latched onto her neck, sucking feverishly on the exposed flesh.
Fuu almost screamed. Wildly, her weakened legs thrashed and bucked on the mattress, as the back of her head hit the wall for the third time.
Surprisingly soft lips ghosted down her neck, peppering more kisses all across the expanse of her now exposed collarbone, down to the very top of her chest. The roughness of his stubble brushing against her contrasted the sensation of his smooth lips. In the end, that incredible feeling only provided more searing stimuli.
Finally he broke away from her. Breaths ragged and heavy, the uncertain Fuu willed herself to match his stare. While her brown eyes were half-lidded with want...despite how hard she wanted to resist him, his were terribly clouded.
He was drunk. He was so drunk. Seeing that far off gaze...she doubted Mugen even seen her anymore; she could've been any female at all, except for Fuu. At least being the woman he never wanted...made her the one unique woman in his life. If he'd been sober, he would have never been doing this to her. Just as he'd only kissed her months ago to prove a stupid, ridiculous point.
At this moment, Fuu knew she could've said anything. Stop. Wait. No! Although she didn't know how far gone the unstoppable swordsman became while intoxicated, enough faith existed that he would've put a swift end to this madness.
None of that mattered though. The moment she opened her quaking lips, they betrayed her.
"Why." she asked, more of a soft exhale than a strong question. Her hands still clenched onto his undershirt, forever indecisive, neither pushing the man away or pulling him close. Any word could have been done to prevent Mugen's drunken advances—any word except that.
For a moment, Fuu thought there was clarity in Mugen's dilated irises rimmed by silver that looked right into her own dilated brown eyes. Maybe she imagined it.
No hint of rejection was all the initiative Mugen needed. No more pretending. He wanted her in the worst way.
In the pale light, his mouth captured hers.
Fuu thought she might have died...died in the embrace of a beast.
She could taste it; the strong, horrid flavor of sake lingered in every corner of his mouth. Still, her lips and tongue found themselves stuck, unable to break away.
Just like that wintry day outside of Nagoya, her mind and body hadn't at all been ready for it. Only this time, he didn't need to pry her mouth open with sheer force. The moment they came in contact, her trembling lips melded against his.
Her heart welcomed it.
Fuu's hands left the front of the tattered shirt, winding through his dark locks of messy hair and tugged gently at the soft strands. She relished the deep—almost primal—growl he emitted against her as a result. His strong arms pulled her closer.
Every residual fragment of bravery she had left, she used with her mouth, trying desperately to match the zeal of his scorching tongue flicking hers. But her inexperience was apparent...as was his inebriation. No doubt, the kiss felt rough, and rushed and oh so sloppy
Teeth clacked violently against each other. Their wet tongues slid at wrong intervals in order to find some connection...some makeshift rhythm amidst the chaos. It only amounted more to the awkward pace.
Despite the oppressive number of shortcomings, neither stopped. Neither could stop.
Every second, his grip on her legs increased, promising bruises. He laved her tongue with such power, Fuu eased back to let him have control. The drunken pirate didn't even take notice of her returning the action. Instead, he chose to devour her entire being with this one passionate kiss.
Their lips pressed needily...their tongues crashed desperately; for her, perhaps it even was pathetic to do this now, when Mugen likely could not even register whom he did this to. This fleeting dream would end when sober Mugen returned.
So for once in her life, Fuu allowed herself to bask in the transient affection of the one who granted her none: the only one she ever desired it from.
They only broke away for air.
A line of saliva connected their tongues; the string shimmered in the light cast by the lantern's dying wick. Her chest rose and fell with every breath. His hand crept underneath the cloth of the smooth juban, sliding up her ankle, then calf. Upon his fingertips, her milky skin felt like the most high-quality silk; something he had the experience of stealing from merchant ships. Just like he'd guessed. The discovery only made him that much more eager to feel every part of it.
The moment she felt his moving hand, panic struck. "Mugen…"
To him, the sound of the name—his name—never sounded better. He leaned in and easily found her supple lips once more. He bit down, nibbling and tugging at her bottom lip like a fiendish animal. Forgetting self-control, another long moan escaped her. The enticing sound reverberated in his ears, all the more fueling Mugen's fervor.
Though he managed to mold his mouth against hers...she no longer returned it.
No. Not like this. She didn't want it to be like this. Not when this could all be some stupid mistake. Not when he didn't even know who he kissed.
After all, she'd only lied to herself, drowning in everything that was him, without facing the cruel, painful truth.
...Just a few short hours ago, the man of her affections had sex with some random whore in a brothel he probably couldn't recall. That reminder still lingered and climbed its way to the forefront of reality.
Every romantic dream she'd fulfilled with this foolish whim went up in flames.
It felt like she had too.
His firm fingers squeezed harder around her thigh. She winced against his mouth.
This wasn't Mugen now. This was just a drunk looking for a quick lay. Could be with anyone: her, or some tramp walking down the street. It would make little difference. If this continued any further, all she would be was the second serving of his sexual appetite just because he didn't get his fill the first round. By the morning, they'd both come to regret anything more.
After all, he didn't even see her as a woman unless alcohol clouded his vision.
The kiss muffled the sound of a broken sob. Her quivering hands fell from his hair, returning to their original place at his chest. Only this time, she did not grasp onto his crisscrossed, tattered shirt as if to cling to the sad, pathetic dream.
Tiny, shaking hands flattened against his chest. With all her strength, Fuu shoved him away.
Confusion filled his inebriated gaze as he finally pulled off her. Another thread of spit connected their lips. It severed the moment he opened his mouth to speak. "Fuu…"
Her name. Why did he have to say it...as if he could recognize her.
It almost made her question if he really did see her now, not as a woman to screw...but as her.
No.
Fuu smelled the disgusting stench of sake radiating off of his every pore. Reality returned. The image of him on top of another woman, kissing another woman...touching another woman almost choked Fuu. Such a thing to picture was just too much for her throbbing heart to bear.
His hand that had briefly stopped, continued its journey up her leg, just reaching the apex between her thighs. Despite the liquid heat that built there from his sensual ministrations, she could not allow him to touch where no other man had.
She slapped him.
His hand stopped.
"You're drunk!" The painful sting of saltwater cascaded down her cheeks. "You're drunk, Mugen!"
Just for a fleeting second, when her little palm struck him hard, soberness hit him too. Everything that transpired tumbled in with a rush of words, sensations, blacks, whites, and reds. And pink. So much pink. Before this moment, Mugen never understood the samurai concept of seppuku. However, amidst his tiny bout of seeing reality, he wondered what stabbing himself would actually feel like.
Mugen did not move, did not look back at her. His once wandering hand retracted back to his side while his intoxicated head raced with a slew of incomprehensible thoughts. It'd been a blur, how fast he'd moved to kiss her...the feel of her, the sounds of her. It was just as he pictured in his dreams.
Except, it hadn't been pompous, deadpan Jin; it'd been him. Dammit. It was him.
That fact made it all the more wrong.
Mugen let everything out again. It all had to be fixed again. And yet he knew not how with such a lack of reasons. Last time, he'd struggled to formulate something, anything to cover up the whole unfortunate event. And back then, he hadn't even been drunk.
She could never know. If this journey continued, and he brought her to Jin, she just could not know.
Mugen started to speak, the drunken drawl still infecting his speech. "Now yuh get it?"
"Wha-what?"
"Those women... Stuff like that...don't scare 'um. They're actually experienced."
Fuu's whole body trembled with disbelief. She knew what he would say...another excuse...or perhaps another truth. Their moment chalked up to nothing more than another big mistake. Another point for him to prove.
"Lil' girls like you...jus' ain't for me."
Mugen backed away, teetering to stand. With slow, careful movement, he traversed to the door.
All over again, the cold memory of the trail from Nagoya played over. This was all just another stupid thing the irresponsible, cruel ex-pirate did to toy with her heart like a cat tormenting a mouse before slaughtering it. The hands that pushed him back balled into fists, and yet no more energy remained to hit him again.
It shouldn't have been like this.
Drunk or sober, his actions, his words….everything they had together formed a big mess never to be puzzled together. She cursed herself. What a fool. What a fool, for actually putting everything on the line for a drunk, inconsiderate jerk. The current of her tears worsened.
She grabbed the bag of leftover coins and whipped it at his feet. Dozens of sunflower seeds scattered across the inn floor. "Go back to them then! I'm not one of them! I never will be!"
"Course yerr not! Ya only'look halfway decent whenaguy's wasted!"
He needed to get away; the door handle stood so far from his reach. It felt as if someone cleaved his skull in two with a naginata. He buckled, nursing his throbbing head. Something in the middle of the floor caused him to trip, only further infuriating him.
His foot kicked the abacus hard, sending it flying to the nearest wall. The counting grid immediately shattered upon contact, the many beads rolling along the floor and clattering beside each other.
He had hoped it'd been Jin's old glasses.
The ugly sound made Fuu cringe. It was a good thing the other rooms in the inn were vacant; surely there would've been complaints about the racket.
"Drunk. All that…just because you're drunk." She didn't know why she said that aloud. She reiterated it to him…but the real truth was she desperately needed to cement this into her own mind.
"I'm...bliiiitzed." he replied with yet another slur and half-laugh.
Finally, his palms found the doorframe that he leaned on for much-needed support. His vision fogged up. What the hell had they been doing. Everything spun in a hazy, frost tinted mess. She might hate him all the more...but that was fine. He needed her to hate him anyway. That way, he wouldn't fool himself into believing she held some romantic attachment. At least he'd saved himself from her knowing the truth tonight.
He slammed the door behind him, just as hard as when he did it upon entering. The whole inn looked like it shook. Stumbling through the dark, his swerving feet almost slipped right off of the raised deck of the inn's outside porches.
Another stolen kiss...two more in fact. By the morrow, she'd come to forgive him for it just like before.
But this time was different. If only she realized, that if she let him continue touching her…he wouldn't have been able to control himself.
If only...
If only she knew everything. All his little secrets.
If only she knew...
He hadn't gotten laid tonight.
No, he'd brutally kicked the expensive courtesan right off him and wiped his mouth the moment he tasted her red lips—disgusting, and fake and wrong. The knot on his shorts hadn't even been undone yet, and he'd already gathered the rest of his clothes, darting for the door. Wasted all that time and all that money. He tried to get a refund; almost thought of killing the owner when all he got back was his sword. But it'd been his own damn fault.
If only she could feel the anger he felt when some guy on the street looked at him the wrong way, and he just wanted to skewer the bastard without any good reason, and revel in a cheap victory. An easy kill was something he'd never allowed for himself before.
If only she realized he'd only spent one ryo and seven shu on the whore. The other three shu went towards purchasing the most luxurious liquor in the district. The bartender kicked him out when he'd started getting rowdy with the other clientele but he could barely remember what he said. Maybe he killed someone. After consuming more amounts of alcohol than ever before, he was so drunk he wouldn't even know. If he'd been allowed to stay, he would've spent that last shu and the change.
If only she could tell he got so drunk because of how much he hated thinking about her.
If only she knew...Mugen had not wished death upon Jin since their old journey. And today, after that dream, he suddenly pictured it clearly, the blood so vivid. He never thought he'd be so angry at someone for wanting to kill that bastard-especially angry at himself of all people. They were supposed to be rivals over skills with the blade, not the affections of a stupid woman.
If only she knew…he lied to himself, and her, about what he found attractive.
If only she knew how absolutely turned on their little altercation made him, far more than a completely naked courtesan straddling his hips.
If only she knew...that sometimes, deep into the night, when Fuu slept soundly, he'd slip away into the woods. Amid his finger's search for pleasure…he'd accidentally imagined her; the things he would do to her, the noises she would make. No, that too was another half-truth wrapped up in overwhelming guilt.
Accidentally imagining her during his private sessions...had only been on their first journey. Once had been before they met up in Edo. Twice had been when they started traveling again.
Twice soon turned to occasionally. Occasionally turned to often. Often became every single time he did it. He hated it.
If only she knew he couldn't even get it up anymore, unless a certain someone invaded his mind, all brown eyes, and smooth hair, and wide hips…and that voice that he always thought he had detested. But sometimes when she said his name he'd…
If only she knew, that as much as his body craved release right now, tonight would not be one of those nights. The disgust he felt far overpowered the frustrating arousal she'd caused him earlier.
If only she knew how much he would give to touch her in ways no man would dare. Unless of course, they desired a quick death at the edge of a European sword.
What..had he done to her.
The events of this evening bled together like they'd all transpired only seconds apart. Tottering Mugen leaned against a stone lantern in the garden for balance. He retched on his knees, stomach contracting violently until the acidic vomit climbed up the length of his esophagus. He puked everywhere. Bile and liquor splattered all over the ground, further bringing him to the plain of reality. The fetid stench caused him to dry-heave several more times, though nothing else managed to come up.
He couldn't go back to her tonight.
It had only gotten so far...because he'd sworn she'd returned his drunken kiss, sworn he felt her tongue caress his own, the softness of her lips pressing against his… Had she though? Had she really? Or was this another fantasy amidst his drunken stupor that he desperately wanted to make a reality?
'Another fuckin' dream.' He wiped at the vomit dribbling down his chin. His closed fist punched the stone lantern so hard it felt like he'd broken his hand.
Crumpling beside the pool of vomit, Mugen grasped his fingers, swearing so many times in both Japanese and Ryukyuan that the incomprehensible words mingled and collided together into an entirely new language.
His vision began to fade more...until blackness almost engulfed everything despite the number of stone pillars illuminating the inn's garden. Consciousness slowly drifted off until he just couldn't hang on.
If only she didn't want Jin.
If only he wasn't a killer.
If only he wasn't Mugen.
If only life were that simple.
In a right state of mind, nothing like this would even bother to pass through his thoughts. He laughed at himself. Not once in his life had his confidence fell to such a pathetic low; he blamed the alcohol. He always said "You can make all the excuses you want. Only you can choose how you live your life."
This wasn't an excuse… He'd already chosen long before he'd cursed his fate in meeting her. It was too late for him; too late for them.
If only, if only, if only.
Regrettably, the cold world they inhabited brimmed with far too many "if only"s and not nearly enough realities. Only in dreams would he find solace as his mind slipped from consciousness.
But he already knew, even in his dreams...Fuu was not his.
Inside the inn, soft snivels came from under a heavy heap of blankets. Fuu shivered even though the rainy Spring's humidity had once been a hindrance to her.
Mugen had never gotten this drunk before.
She knew by the morning, he probably would barely remember what had transpired between them. He'd forget it all, or disregard it, and they'd continue on as if nothing happened at all. Everything between them was just dandy sunshine. Just like their last kiss...only worse. Fuu would not dare bring it up, to hold onto some ounce of normalcy for the rest of the long journey to Hiroshima.
But she wouldn't forget; not ever. How could she...when her feelings only continued to grow?
If only, if only, if only.
If only Fuu hadn't completely, and irrevocably fallen in love with him.
~To Be Continued~
[A/N]: ...
Bam. Their second kiss and third kiss. Timing couldn't be more awful. Please kill me now. Writing this chapter was something else. Writing Mugen's dream got me just as sick as him.
We all love Mugen here. So I don't want him to seem like this crazed molester. He's been sexually attracted to Fuu for so long and buried that inside, until it reached an exploding point here. Fuu's failure to tell him to stop only made him continue. Plus, drunkenness fueled the desire he'd buried away for so long. Alcohol is the greatest truth serum, after all.
Much thanks to Soul Raider 116 who wanted Fuu or Mugen to take sunflower seeds from the last chapter with them on their journey. Managed to fit that little detail here for some added angst.
Japanese Currency: Generally, 4000 mon=16 Shu=1 Ryo. 250 mon=1 Shu. However, this isn't exact. The anime combines all different years of the Tokugawa time period into one: a Champloo. So it's harder to determine the value of coin when it fluctuates year to year. Towards the latter of the era, it was more accurate to say 7000 mon= 1 Ryo. To not hurt all our brains, let's just simplify it to the 4000 mon value. In the anime, we see Jin spend 1 ryo for Shino. Mugen and Jin spend all 5 ryo for only three women in Ep 15. Again, prices fluctuate with each place too.
Japanese Superstition: If you sneeze once, someone is talking good about you. Twice is someone is talking ill of you. Three sneezes, the magic number, means someone has fallen in love with you. Well, Fuu...guess who fell for you! (BAKA!)
Soroban: Japanese counting tray using rows of beads for calculating (an abacus). Fuu used one in episode 11 of the anime.
Tomesode: short sleeved kimono worn by married women. However, it also identified full-fledged courtesans who amassed popularity with clients.
Yubae: a Japanese flower that can translate to "Crimson Beauty". The kanji for the name can also mean "splendor of the evening".
Follow, Favorite and…*cringes* alright, I am prepared to face thy judgment for this chapter. Review whatever you feel. Until next time, friends. (Tsuru-himegimi chapters will still not be returning just yet). Murder mystery up next!
End of Chapter 34