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Chapter Two: River Escapade

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I'm the first one to wake. I'm almost always the first one to wake. And, I like it that way. It's good to have some decent silence before those two start being loud and obnoxious. Plus, if at all possible, I like to get clean. That is a decent and respectable way to become focused and prepared for a day.

Fuu is mumbling in her sleep about wanting some dango. That barbarian, on the other hand, is snoring. Is it really such a good idea to sleep so soundly? I could never kill a man in his sleep. No, that is something I would definitely never do. On the other hand, I don't think bushido prohibits giving a sleeping man a few light wounds to teach him a lesson.

Hm.

I wander towards the sound of a nearby stream. A light fog obscures the more intricate details of my surroundings, blurring the world beyond a few paces. The morning's light, fragile and delicate, reminds me of those dim daybreaks at the dojo, before the other students arrived. Sensei would always go out and sit in the courtyard by the trees his late wife Nisa-san planted the year they were married. Old Orin-san would be cooking by the time I woke, and the faint smell of rice would waft around the dojo, beckoning the hungry. Breakfast with Sensei and Orin-san was always quiet, thoughtful, and pleasant.

Orin-san left the dojo before... Yes, before. I was glad. Sensei could no longer pay her, and had to let her go. It is good. She was a kindly woman, and to know what happened probably would have broken her heart.

I undress and bathe quickly, keeping my blades on a nearby rock. It is not a good idea to ever be more than an arm's length from your swords. The water is not a pleasant temperature, but discomfort is never a reason to keep from doing what should be done.

I don't even try to catch fish for breakfast.

The outdoors. It is not my forte.

I tie my hair up, and put on my glasses. A man should dress deliberately, mindful always of his movements. No movement should ever be extraneous, wasted.

That barbarian...wastes...everything. If he had a family name, it would be 'Wasteful'. But, criminal lowlifes don't have family names.

I make my way back to the camp and find that Fuu is awake, and eating already. I guess she likes to get her eating done before Mugen attacks it. I nod at her and sit down. Taking a piece of meat off the fire, I attempt to eat my breakfast at a reasonable pace, no despite my intense hunger.

It tastes surprisingly good, so that's easier said than done. It's strange, but Fuu is actually a very decent cook. Maybe it's all the restaurants she's worked at. Maybe it just comes with being a woman. I don't know.

"I'm going to go bathe," she says happily as she jumps to her feet.

I just nod. At least she bathes. That ruffian, on the other hand...

Smells. Really. Bad.

He smells like fish that's turned from being left out in the sun. No, he smells worse. Like sake, and blood, and vomit, and cheap diseased whores. He smells like the floor of the worst tavern in Edo.

He needs a bath.

I've only seen him bathe on purpose when there are women involved.

Fuu wanders off, murmuring to her animal as she does. I glance at Mugen. He's drooling.

I feel the corner of my lip twitch. Something about him... Something about him just...

"Quit watching me while I sleep, asshole."

Makes me want to kill. It makes me want to see blood flow.

I narrow my eyes slightly, and then turn away from him. "I was just imagining what you'll look like dead."

"Whatever, faggot." Mugen sits up, which in itself is a circus-like affair. I don't know if the man has any actual bones in his body. "Shit. Who ate all that food? We had like half of it left from last night, and now there's hardly any left..."

"She did."

"Damnit. That girl...she's..."

"A monster."

And there you have it. One of the few things on which we always agree.

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"You can't be serious." Mugen kicks at the ground. Pebbles and dirt go flying. "How in the fuck are we supposed to get across this?"

Fuu looks vexed. And then she looks at me. Apparently, she thinks I have a plan to get across the river. "Should we swim?"

"No." The water looks deep. Who knows what sort of currents are hiding beneath the surface. "We could follow along the bank until we find a bridge. Or a village."

"But, that's not even the right direction. We'll be going totally the wrong way."

"It can't be helped," I say.

Mugen kicks at the embankment again. Rocks tumble down into the water and disappear. "Remember that this isn't my fault. This is bushido-boy's fault. So don't blame me later."

I keep my face passive, but briefly consider perfecting a small sneer for such occasions. Then, we head west, along the bank.

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"Ungh, I'm hungry," Mugen says. He's in the front, occasionally using that 'weapon' of his to cut away brush.

"My feet hurt," Fuu mumbles. She's in the middle, and she keeps stumbling over roots and, well, her own feet.

"Hm." That's all I have to say about it.

"Hey! We should stop and fish for some lunch." Fuu is immediately on-task with her suggestion, stooping down to cut some long reeds for poles. Mugen starts kicking around in the dirt with his shoe, looking for worms.

I'm supposed to make the fire. After my humiliation from the last few attempts at fishing, I don't even try anymore. I start gathering kindling and make a pit while they set up for fishing.

I watch the two of them out of the corner of my eye as I get the fire started. Fuu is babbling about some restaurant she visited in one of the villages we passed, and how fat the cook was. Fuu says that you can always tell how good a dining establishment is by the girth of the cook.

When the fire is done, I go to sit on the other side of Fuu, and wait for then to pull something out of the water. Then I'm supposed to gut the fish, and stick it over the fire. This is the way things go. This is my role.

How strange it is. That we all somehow know exactly which roles we are supposed to play. Fuu keeps talking, chattering endlessly about this and that. She doesn't really expect our input, which is good, since I have nothing to say, and Mugen will invariably say something idiotic or inappropriate. It's not that she's a blabbermouth, it's just that she has a lot of pep. And she's not always talkative, just sometimes, just when it's right for her to be that way. Why it works this way, I do not know.

Mugen is fishing with his feet, just to prove that he can. Obnoxious.

Fuu catches something before too long, and hands it to me. I pull a clean sheet of paper out of my gi and get to work gutting it with my wakizashi. Hm. I doubt my ancestors ever realized that such a priceless blade would someday be used to clean a fish. It seems almost wrong to use a weapon this way, but I've gotten used to it over time.

The noises of the forest blend with Fuu's voice. The rushing water of the river, the crackle of our fire, the slight summer breeze in the treetops. There is a strange harmony of these things, which blur together in the background of my mind to produce an almost eerie calm. Calm. I've always prided myself on being the center of calmness, poised and collected, but this seems so very different... So very...

"Momosan, don't go out that far. You're going to..."

I turn my head just in time to see Fuu reaching for the animal, which has climbed out on a reed over the rushing water. She's bent at an awkward angle, because she's trying to keep ahold of her fishing pole whilst retrieving the animal at the same time.

"No, don't!" But, I'm too far away. Her ankle twists on the loose dirt of the embankment, and she falls backwards into the river. I'm diving to catch her foot, but the splash of water obscures my view for a moment. I can't even see what I'm leaping towards.

My hand catches something solid. There's only a brief instant to see what it is before I'm yanked towards the river. It's a foot alright, with a tattooed ankle. Everything moves sluggishly, time unravels in an uneven staccatto. I see Mugen's hand clutching Fuu's wrist. Fuu's face bobs to the surface for an instant and then disappears.

This is a bad situation. I remember what Orin-san told me once, that a girl's kimono can easily get stuck around her legs, making it impossible for her to kick and stay afloat. And Mugen isn't faring much better. Because I've got his left foot, and he's holding onto Fuu with his right hand, he's stretched out face-down in the water. If he flips over, he risks either losing Fuu, or breaking her arm.

There's a moment of tranquil lucidity. I know, right then, that we'll either all make it through this together, or we'll all drown right here. My feet rapidly skid down the loose, muddy embankment. The force of the pull is incredible. I have this odd moment of satisfaction in knowing that I was right about the currents.

I see Fuu's head come up again as my left leg slips into the water. Dreadful cold. It must be water from the mountaintops. She's gasping. Mugen's fingers slip from her wrist, but he manages to catch her hand. I save for later my amazement at the fact that he doesn't let her go and save himself.

I'm in the river to my sternum by the time my other hand, the one that is blindly grasping for something, anything, to hold onto, finally catches a clump of long reeds. But, my hand is so muddy that it slips, not once, but twice, before I'm able to get a good grip. I yank on Mugen's arm to let him know to get ready, and then summon all my strength.

This will take...all three of us...

Mugen flies out first when I pull, and ends up face-first in the reeds. Fuu lands higher up on the embankment, likely due to the additional power of Mugen's pull.

We all spend a few moments climbing to higher ground and catching our breath. We're all soaked, even me. I roll over onto my back and look up at the sky. Bright. Clear. Cloudless. Tranquil. It's the same sort of feeling I had after watching Shino disappear into the mist on that boat. It's the feeling of doing something for someone else, not because of the code of bushido, but because your gut says it's the right thing to do.

"You stupid girl," Mugen grumbles, "You made me lose my fish! I was just about to catch something. Oh man, I'm fucking soaked."

I look to the left. Fuu is sitting up and wringing the water out of her kimono. With it wet like that, it clings to her body. She looks even smaller, even younger. Mugen must see it, too, because he stops complaining and shakes his head. And I mean -shakes- his head, like a dog. Water sprays off of him and hits both Fuu and myself. I attempt to put one hand up between the spray and my face.

"I was just trying to catch Momosan before it... Oh no! Momosan!" The animal, on hearing Fuu's voice, scampers out of the reeds and onto Fuu's shoulder. Lucky devil didn't even get wet. "Hey Jin, you okay?"

"Aa," I say, and then remember our previous discussion. "I am fine, Fuu."

She smiles widely, even though she's shivering, as if the brush with death is instantly forgotten. "Hey, but, at least we got Mugen to take a bath."

"What?" He gets in her face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You reeked," I say. And then I feel it. Something...something abrasive is moving against my stomach. What the...? I sit up quite suddenly and look down.

"Geez, Jin, you just turned pale. And that's saying a lot, considering..."

I reach into my gi and attempt to find the source of the discomfort. Could I have sliced myself open on a stick or something?

I pull my hand out of my shirt and stare in awe and some amount of horror at the object in my grasp.

Fuu laughs. Mugen laughs, too.

"Fuck me stupid," Mugen says between snorts, "Jin finally caught a fish."

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