CHAPTER FOUR

"I can't believe we're going to another city," mumbled Fuu under her breath. She had kept up a continual stream of angry muttering since they'd left the city and begun walking down the dirt road to the next one. The trees were thin and they saw small thatched huts between fields.

"Mm-hm," murmured Mugen sleepily.

"Stupid cities. Crowded… dirty…"

"Mmm-hm."

"Bunch of jerks…"

"Yeah."

"Can't believe I let him talk me into…" Fuu stopped dead in her tracks. Mugen slammed into her from behind.

"Hey, watch it!"

"Why'd you stop?"

"Jin. Where'd he go?"

Mugen blinked in surprise and looked around. "Oh… he's over there, talking to some chick."

"Arrgg, Mugen, he wasn't like this before he met you!" Fuu left the path and began jogging up the field, where Jin and a young peasant woman were talking intensely.

"So he's stopped acting queer, what's wrong with that?" demanded Mugen, running after her. "And it's not just me, I mean, he fucked around before. He just hid it. It's all an act. I could pretend to be all proper and perfect if I wanted—"

Fuu snorted, picking up the hem of her kimono to hop over a bushy plant.

"—but see, I'm honest with you," finished Mugen. Fuu just rolled her eyes as she approached Jin.

"…passes every week, and comes back with his laundry and a few geisha—" The peasant girl broke off suddenly when Fuu and Mugen came up behind Jin. Jin didn't move.

"The same day?" he asked, as if Fuu and Mugen weren't peering over his shoulders. Fuu looked curious. Mugen had one-eyebrow raised in a look of incredulous disgust, possibly at the flat chest of the girl Jin was talking to.

"Yes, always. He went to the city yesterday."

"So he'll be back on this road today?" asked Jin anxiously. He suddenly looked like he was going to lunge at her.

"Y-yes," she said falteringly. She gave Fuu a panicked glance. Fuu took that as her cue to intervene.

"Jin, what're you talking about? What's going on? Who are you talking about?" she demanded. He ignored her; she reached up and tugged his ponytail. He whipped around and slapped her across the face. She nearly fell; Mugen caught her.

"Don't touch my hair!" he barked.

"Fuck, man, are you crazy?" shouted Mugen.

"Why'd you do that?" yelled Fuu, holding her bruised cheek. Jin was already stalking away down the field, leaving the peasant girl looking worried.

"Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to help Fuu, and then thinking better of it and clutching her hoe anxiously.

"What was he talking about?" demanded Fuu.

"I—I don't know," she said. "I mean, I know!" she said quickly, as Fuu began to yell again, "but I don't know what it means!"

"What'd he say?" shouted Mugen and Fuu.

"He was asking about a samurai in glasses!" said the peasant, nearly in tears. "He said he heard from a man in the city that there's a samurai in glasses around here and he comes into the city from this way, and wanted to know if I'd seen him pass by, and I said yes, he comes into the city down this road every week with his laundry! I don't know anything else, I swear!"

"A samurai in glasses," repeated Mugen slowly. He reached up to rub the rough stubble on his upper lip.

"Come on!" commanded Fuu. She turned away and ran down the field with the long cloth of her kimono fluttering after her. Mugen ran too, his geta banging on the rough ground. Jin was striding down the path as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"Yo, you fuckhead!" yelled Mugen, clutching a stitch in his side. "What's with you? Hey, you stupid son of a bitch! Stop ignoring us, asshole! What's going on?"

Jin stopped dead in the center of the path. Fuu and Mugen stopped behind him, panting and clutching their sides. Jin turned his head slightly and said, apparently to a tree, "I'm sorry I hit you."

"Jin… who… what…" gasped Fuu. She rubbed her cheek self-consciously, and demanded, "Who are you looking for? The samurai in glasses?"

"I think we should set up camp," said Jin calmly.

"What? It's still morning! And you didn't answer me! Jin!"

"I'm setting up camp," said Jin, turning off the road.

Fuu and Mugen exchanged helpless glances. They went after Jin with a barrage of questions, but he acted like he couldn't hear them; he gathered wood, built a fire, and sat down and smoked without a word. Twice, he stood in the middle of what he was doing and went out to the road. Both times, peasants passed, looking a bit apprehensive under Jin's angry eyes following them. But once they passed, he went back to whatever he'd been doing as if there was no interruption at all.

"You're an asshole!" said Mugen finally.

"It's the middle of the afternoon, and it's going to rain, and we could be at the next city already if you weren't being so stubborn," added Fuu in one breath. She had to take a moment to breathe before she began ranting again: "And you can't even bother to tell us what's going on and you're ignoring us and being really—"

Jin stood up.

Fuu stopped, then twisted around. She was sitting on the ground, legs curled up under her. Mugen, who was sitting on a rock across from her, looked up. Jin was staring intently down the road.

"What is it?" asked Fuu. But she already heard it: hooves.

Jin put his hand on his sword and walked away without a word. Fuu and Mugen exchanged glances again. They followed, but kept to the edge of the path. Jin crossed the road and stood with his legs apart and his hand on the hilt of his katana, ready to watch the next peasant pass.

"This is so dumb," griped Fuu.

"I think he's lost it. Seriously, I think it's too much. You've made him go crazy."

"Me? You're the one who dragged him to the brothel, he's been acting funny ever since—" Fuu stopped. Jin had left the side of the road and planted himself firmly in the middle of the road, blocking the path of a cart. At first, all Fuu saw was the funny-looking donkey pulling it; she was wearing a straw hat with holes cut out for his ears and chewing lazily. Fuu turned to Mugen to ask if he thought the donkey was funny too, but Mugen was staring wide-eyed at the driver with his mouth dangling open. She turned back and at first thought she was seeing double.

The man sitting holding the reins was a samurai. His kimono, obi, and hakama were identical to Jin's; his black hair was pulled into a small, neat ponytail; and oddest of all, he had glasses that were very, very familiar. His clothes were cleaner and their colors brighter, and his ponytail was perfectly even, but they were still so close to Jin's that Fuu wondered if they were related. But the other samurai didn't have a Takeda mon. Besides, his jaw was a little heavier, his features harder and somehow older, even though they were the same age. He looked like someone who might have torn wings off flies as a child for fun. Fuu decided they weren't related at all.

"It's been years," he said simply. His voice was deep and raspy.

"Many years," confirmed Jin.

He sighed and hopped out of the cart. He took the donkey's halter and steered him over to the side of the road, talking as he did so. "You look good, Jin. Still just as pretty as I remember. Guess there's nothing you could do about that, eh?" Fuu saw Jin's grip on his sword tighten until his knuckles were white. Meanwhile, the other samurai gave his donkey a pat and then approached Jin, leaving a generous space between them.

"I knew this day would come," he said, fingering his own sword without concern. "Actually, I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. But then, you've always been a coward."

"I'm not the one who ran away," growled Jin, pulling his sword.

"We both ran away. We're kindred spirits, Jin." He laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever said, then stopped suddenly, his face hardened. It was scary how cruel he looked. He certainly didn't look like anyone who would put a hat on a donkey.

"Alright, I want to know what's going on right now!" screeched Fuu.

There was a pregnant pause. Jin and the other samurai's ponytails fluttered in the wind, and a roll of thunder murmured. A couple raindrops fell.

"Brought friends?" asked the other samurai finally, stretching to see around Jin. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "A pretty little... girl, huh? I'm surprised. Did you pick her up by accident, Jin?"

Jin's eyes narrowed. "Take out your sword."

"Still won't fight a defenseless man, huh? Still need your swords, huh? That's fine by me, Jin." He pulled his own swords. "I've been practicing too, you know. Give me your best."

Jin lunged; the other samurai jerked away; and suddenly all Fuu could see was the two of them slashing and blocking. It was like watching Jin fight his reflection; both were so fast and so furious that she couldn't keep them straight. They would turn, switching places, their kimono a whirlwind of identical cloth, and Fuu wouldn't even realize it; their kimono were perfect matches except for the mon, so when they stopped, it took her a moment to figure out who was who and by then they'd moved again. She would feel her breath catch when one jumped to avoid the downward sweep of a blade, then wonder which one had jumped; and then, they had moves and switched places again… and again… and again. She began feeling dizzy.

"Damn!" yelped Mugen, who was swaying on the spot as he followed the fight. One slashed down; the blur of silver stopped abruptly with a harsh clang, then there was another flash; one of them jumped, the other twisted, there was another series of flashes, and suddenly a sword went flying. Fuu ducked, covering her head with her hands; the sword landed behind her, sliding in the muddy road. Rain pattered down.

The two had temporarily separated, panting. Jin's ponytail hung limp and dripping; he was holding two swords. The other man's was so evenly cut, that aside from looking shiny, the wetness had not altered it at all; he held one sword.

"Not bad, Jin," he said. Suddenly he threw his other sword at Jin. Jin knocked it away easily. The samurai grinned and spread his arms. "Defenseless again! What're you doing to do now?"

Jin tossed him a sword.

"Stop being so honorable, dumbass!" yelled Mugen.

"Shut up!" hissed Fuu. "We don't even know what's happening!"

"So what? Do you want him to die?"

"No, but—"

"Remember that time we fought in the dojo, Jin?" asked the other samurai. He and Jin were circling like dogs. He was hunched, like a hyena; Jin walked straight, in perfect form, as usual.

"Yes," said Jin.

"Swords aren't wooden this time, are they?" The other samurai suddenly darted the other way. Jin countered his move. He darted back and flew at Jin. There was a series of silver slashes so fast Fuu didn't know what she was seeing; the billowing clothes and heavy rain didn't improve her vision. Mugen yelled and jumped up and down with each swipe; he, at least, seemed to be able to follow what was happening, and occasionally barked out commands: "Right! Left! Right! Down! Down!"

Then, suddenly, there was a squall like a cat with its tail being trodden on and the slashes ended; both samurai fell over, rolling in the mud. Fuu thought the yell was from the other man; she'd never heard Jin make any sound even remotely like that. But then she saw it had been him, after all; the other samurai had abandoned his form and was tugging on Jin's ponytail like he intended to rip it out of his head, biting the hand that held his sword, kicking and forcing Jin's face into the mud. And Jin, who hated to break any rules, fought back with equal violence. He tore at the other man's clothes, clawing and yelling and kicking as well. They might have been dogs; neither one was even using his sword anymore.

"Shit!" cried Mugen. "Kill him, man! Kill him!"

Jin had managed to get on top of the other man, even though moments earlier he'd been on bottom; with both hands, one still gripping his sword, he shoved the man's face in the mud. A few bubbles came up; Fuu shrieked.

"You're killing him!" she yelled in horror.

"You're killing him!" cheered Mugen.

There was a flash of silver from the other man's sword, and Jin had to jerk back to avoid it, letting go of the samurai's head. The samurai twisted, rolling onto his back and coughing up mud; Jin was rising; with a well-aimed kick, he caught Jin in the crotch. Jin fell over and the other man slashed, still half-lying down. Jin rolled out of the way; the second swing caught. Fuu screamed, even though she wasn't sure where he'd been hit or how bad it was. She heard Jin let out a strangled yell, more of rage than pain, and in another slash the first samurai darted away, clutching his face. Blood oozed thick between his fingers.

Jin tried to stand up, but his right leg buckled under him. For a moment he stayed in the mud on his hands and knees, panting, head hanging down with water dripping from his hair. The other samurai grinned, his face twisting into an even crueler leer.

"This is it," he said, circling Jin.

"Go ahead, then," hissed Jin. "Kill me." The grip on his sword tightened. The other samurai's eyes darted back and forth, calculating; if he got close enough to kill, Jin would lash out and take him with him.

At this point Fuu intervened. "Stop it!" she yelled.

"Fuu, you bitch!" Mugen swiped at her, but she'd already run out to Jin and jumped in front of him. The samurai looked shocked. Mugen hurried up next to her. He'd lost a geta in the mud on the way.

"Well," said the samurai. He smiled. "I see why you've got these two, now. One to protect you, and one to fuck you. Good deal, Jin." He slung his sword over his back casually. "But I wasn't going to kill you. You know that. After all… there's worse things than death."

He walked around them, pausing to smirk at Jin. Jin lunged, still on his hands and knees; he nearly caught the other man, too, but he jumped back just in the nick of time. He laughed. "Really, it's been nice playing, Jin. But I've got to go. My donkey, she's getting wet."

He spat at Jin, then went to his donkey without a word. The animal was standing just where he'd left it, droopy-eyed and unconcerned, like its master got into fights every day. (He did.)

Jin rose again; his leg buckled. Mugen and Fuu grabbed him. He struggled to get away, unburdened by the fact that he couldn't walk. The other samurai disappeared quickly in the sheets of rain; but still Jin struggled.

"Stop it, you stupid bastard!" yelled Mugen. Jin gave a strangled yell of reply. He was completely beyond words, and fighting with them tooth and nail. Literally. Mugen got kicked a few times and bitten on the hand; Fuu was elbowed and shoved.

"You're hurt!" she told him, but he didn't care; he wrestled with every last ounce of strength, and it was all they could do to hold him.

"Hold him!" commanded Mugen, suddenly letting go of Jin's arm.

"WHAT?" shouted Fuu. Jin turned on her and the two collapsed in the mud, rolling around and clawing at each other's faces. Mugen slid out his sword and swung. Fuu screamed when Jin went limp on top of her.

"You killed him! You killed him!"

"Fuu! Shut the hell up, okay? He's not dead. Look!" He grabbed her elbow and yanked her up roughly, then showed her Jin's head. "I just knocked him out, okay? I had to, he was going berserk. I used the flat part of the blade. He'll be okay."

"He's dying," wailed Fuu.

"Shut up, okay? Just shut up!"

For a moment, she thought Mugen was going to hit her; she fell silent immediately. Both took a deep breath, then turned to look at Jin. He looked like a heap of wet, muddy clothes lying in the middle of the street.

"He got hit, didn't he?" asked Mugen.

"Yeah."

"Did you see where?"

"No."

They knelt and sat him up. His head lolled drunkenly, his glasses slightly askew. Fuu ran her fingers over his kimono and arms, looking for cuts; her hand slid down to the leg that had been unable to support his weight and went "oh!"

"What? What is it?" asked Mugen, dropping Jin. He grabbed him just before he hit the mud again, then craned his neck toward the wound. Fuu showed him; she pulled back the flap that had been formed in Jin's hakama by his own sword, revealing a deep gash that was pumping blood out furiously.

"Whoa. That's bad," said Mugen.

Fuu pushed her hands against it, but the blood kept coursing out. She could feel Jin's pulse from it; within a minute her hands were warm and slick with blood.

"It's not working!" she cried, looking up. "What'd we do?"

"Why are you asking me? Do I look like a doctor? Do I look like I'm fucking enlightened or something? Do I look like a fortune teller? I don't fucking know what to do!"

Fuu stared into the rain for a moment and mouthed the words, "fortune teller." Then she turned slowly and looked at Mugen.

"We have to take him back to the city."

"The city!" cried Mugen. "But that's over an hour from here!"

"It's all we can do! Help me pick him up!"

Mugen heaved Jin up and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He wobbled after Fu in the mud, his steps sliding over the slippery road, unsteady. Fuu led the way. The rain fell even harder. She tried to comfort herself; at least they were close, very close to the city. It wasn't as if they were already more than halfway down the road. And Jin's only injury was his leg—and the possible concussion Mugen had given him.

"Where are we taking him?" grunted Mugen.

Fuu thought for a moment before she said, slowly, "Do you know the way to that brothel you guys were at last night?"

Mugen slipped on the ground and nearly fell over. "The brothel? You want to takehim to a brothel?"

"Well… we don't have any money for the hospital!" snapped Fuu.

Mugen mumbled something, but he didn't protest further. Jin was heavy and it was difficult to carry him in the rain. Every few minutes, he threatened to drop him, but Fuu learned to ignore it, and instead looked anxiously for the lanterns that would tell them they were entering the city. She nearly cried when she saw them, and was glad it was raining. She turned around. Mugen's face was streaked with rain too; she wondered if he was worried. He looked worried.

"I'm going to drop him," he said.

"We're nearly there," said Fuu.

This time, Mugen meant it; he dropped Jin. Fuu helped heave him back up. This time, Mugen took him in his arms for a better grip. Jin almost looked like he was sleeping. At least, that's what Fuu told herself.

"It's on the other side of the city," grunted Mugen, leading Fuu through the empty streets. Everyone had gone inside already; they met only two people, who hurried past with their heads ducked against the rain.