((AN- adult language in this chapter. Also, note there's a MAJOR rewrite here. Many thanks to everyone for the kind feedback, the honest critiques and all the suggestions…much luv to you all…I hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it!))

That guy was amazing. I've never seen anyone like that! Such strength…and oh! He's got a nice body, too…I wonder what else he's capable of-

"Yatsuha! Hey, are you even listening?"

"What?" She was startled out of her blissful reverie by Hankichi's voice.

"Good grief- I've been talking to you for ten minutes, and you haven't heard a single word I've said… I asked you a question! What's his name?"

"Wha- who?" Yatsuha looked rather confused, and slightly embarrassed for having been caught daydreaming.

"Come on, quit being so bubbleheaded. You know damn well who I mean- Mister Wonderful. Loverboy."

Yatsuha abruptly skidded to a halt. Name? His name? Crap! Her mind was a complete blank.

"Umm….I…umm…well, you see…uh…"

"Wait a minute- you mean you don't know?" Yatsuha's deep blush confirmed his suspicion.

Her partner gave a sigh of disgust. Jinpachi's daughter was well known for her ruthless attention to detail. Pitiful… How the hell could she fall in love with a guy and never find out his name? Women can be so silly sometimes…

"Well, no matter. It's not like you're ever gonna see that guy again, I suppose. Let's get going- we've still got a long way to go until we reach Edo." With that, he simply walked off and left her standing in the road, silently cursing to herself.

Mugen was far from a sentimental man. He wasn't an eloquent man, and most people wouldn't consider him much of a thinking man, either. In fact, he was vulgar, crude and shamelessly lewd. Scandalous bounder, loner, rogue, felon, vagrant: all these descriptions (and more) fit him quite well. But despite his many faults, he was not an unfeeling man…

Grudgingly, he realized that he missed them. Not that he'd willingly admit it- if pressed, he would have cheerfully died under torture rather than speak such a blasphemy aloud. Yet, despite his best efforts to keep them at arm's length and firmly away from his heart, they had somehow grown on him. In fact, he found it rather difficult to imagine his life without them. The unexpected emotions he felt were rather confusing…

That guy is the toughest bastard I've ever known. And that chick! Well, she's tougher than both of us put together… She never took any shit without a fight, and boy can she pack a punch! Sure, they irritated the hell out of me, but they were always there when it mattered most…I mean, they actually gave a shit about me- far more than anyone else has ever done. I grew kind of used to 'em, yanno? I guess I even liked them. Hell, who am I kidding- they were the best friends I've ever had…Come to think of it, they were the ONLY friends I've ever had. Yeah, I'm gonna miss them. We'll meet each other again, I'm sure of it…

In all his short life, Mugen had never known friends. Getting close to people was a dire weakness- a thing others could exploit. In the hell in which he had been born and raised, keeping detached was a matter of survival; the man you broke bread with in the morning might be dead at your feet by afternoon. There never was much point growing attached to anyone, as they inevitably died- often at his own hands. Cold cruelty was a fact of life; the lone survivor could afford no regrets…the weak simply died and the strong endured.

He had long grown tired of serving as their executioner. Doomed men sought him out, seeking swift release- it was always the same thing and he was fucking sick of it. Being used as a mindless killing machine grated against his sanity, his soul…

Mukuro had been wrong when he said we were two of a kind. We were NOTHING alike! That asshole was always assuming things about me. Yeah, we were cursed men- but for different reasons. Mukuro just enjoyed killing, enjoyed watching people die. I only wanted to be the best, to be stronger than anyone…

Truth be told, he had mostly wanted respect.

On the island, respect was granted through fear. The rules were quite simple: intimidate and kill enough, and you gain fear…and ultimately, respect. Once he left the island, however, he realized that fear did not always equal respect. Instead, he was viewed with derision, a tattooed criminal loathed by polite civilized society. He was considered a thing to be feared, yes, but also pitied- simply a rabid dog gone mad from its disease.

It wasn't until he met them that he began to really live. He could be himself, he was finally free… They didn't pity him, or fear him- they accepted him for what he was, at face value, taking the good with the (considerable) bad. And yes, they respected him. Admired him, even. Sure, they squabbled and fought; their bonds were tested, but proven ultimately to be unshakeable. Somehow, the three strangers had become family. His family…

It had been three weeks since he had left them. He had wandered aimlessly for a while, but ultimately decided to stick around Nagasaki. Life was good in the bustling port city- and for once, he found himself earning decent money.

Petty criminals- pickpockets, thieves, smalltime hustlers- they were a dime a dozen, ripe for the picking. At first, he was content to merely rob the competition, but then he realized there were far richer rewards at hand. Merchants, sick of being terrorized by the criminal element, offered fat purses…and their pockets were deep. Mugen discovered being able to read was a distinct advantage; he checked signposts daily for the best reward, picked out a target and went hunting- simple as that.

He had always counted on others to underestimate him- if people thought of him as a mindless idiot, they tended to let their guard down…letting slip precious tidbits that he could use to his advantage. If that failed to work, then a good old-fashioned asskicking did the trick. He was as relentless as a bloodhound, and just as effective in tracking his prey. No matter how difficult the quarry, Mugen could find it- and reap his reward.

Before long, he'd even been able to afford his own place. It wasn't exactly a palace; just a rundown shack along the seashore- but it was his. Yup, life was good indeed...

(to be continued)

Chapter Four- Jin's story continues… ;)