(Author's Note: Yes! Jin begins his life history! You'll soon know who his mysterious arch-enemy is! Sorry the chapters are choppy, but Jin's story is far too long for a single chapter, even though it's not really meant to be broken up.)

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Admit it! You need my help!"

"I don't need your help!"

Fuu crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Jin leaned against a tree. They had been walking for several hours, but the actual ground they'd covered was negligible. Fuu estimated that the journey to the next town would take days, even though it should have taken only one.

"Give me a second!"

"You've been standing there a minute! Admit you're hurt!"

"No!"

Mugen cracked his knuckles. Fuu winced; he was always cracking things, and it drove her crazy. (That's why he did it.)

Jin finally let go of the tree and resumed walking. His limp was pronounced; Fuu made sure to stay close in case he fell.

"Are you ever going to tell us who that guy was?" asked Mugen. He had taken to walking a ways and then doubling back; Fuu, on the other hand, tried to keep pace with Jin, even though it involved walking excruciatingly slow.

"No," growled Jin, grabbing another tree for support.

"For heaven's sake just let me help you!"

"No!"

"You act like you're two years old!"

"At least I can take care of myself! At least I don't need anyone to help me realize my goals in life, and that's more than you can say!"

She and Jin faced off, breathing heavily. Fuu was hurt; she had always thought that, even though Mugen and Jin pretended to hate her, they had grown fond of her and didn't hold any grudge against her for dragging them on the quest to find the samurai who smelled of sunflowers.

"Fine," said Fuu, voice shaking. "You can just… walk by yourself, then." She walked up the road without looking back.

Mugen looked from her retreating back, to Jin, still holding onto a tree. "Oh, don't make me chose!" he screamed.

"Why don't you just kill him?" yelled back Fuu, turning around and walking backwards. "You said you wanted to! And now he's helpless, isn't he?"

Mugen looked at Jin again. Jin's eyes narrowed. Then he looked at Fuu. "Fuu, you crazy bitch! Come back here!"

"No!" she yelled.

"Go ahead," hissed Jin, lowering his head. "Go after her! You don't need me, anyways. I can take care of myself."

"I don't need either of you!" screamed Fuu, still walking backwards.

"Well I don't need either of you, either!" said Mugen, going to the far side of the road and slamming his back against a tree, examining his nails. "We can all just go our separate ways!"

"Fine, that's what I wanted anyways!"

"Yeah, well, me too!"

Jin suddenly fell over. "Jin!" they both yelled, and ran to him.

"I don't need help!" he snapped, trying to brush them away; but both grabbed an arm and heaved him up.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," said Fuu, brushing dust from his clothes. "I do need you, both of you. Please don't leave me now. We're so close…"

"Look, though, Jin, you're being retarded. You're gonna get a fever again. And you've got to tell us what the hell's going on. That guy could've killed us."

Jin's eyes narrowed into slits. Finally, he said, "My leg hurts."

Fuu groaned in frustration, but she and Mugen agreed to rest for the night; they wouldn't get much farther, anyways. With Jin's arms around each of them, the three hobbled to the nearest clearing. Jin sat down and stretched out his leg painfully in front of him, then looked up at Fuu. Their eyes met, and then Jin's dropped. He didn't say anything, but Fuu knew he was thanking her.

"I haven't been completely honest with you."

"No surprise there," said Fuu.

"Makes two of us," said Mugen breezily.

The three were sitting around the fire, just like they had so many other times before. Mugen was standing, leaning against a tree in his usual, laid-back manner. Fuu was sitting on a log she'd rolled up to the fire, slouched over her crossed arms and watching Jin intently like a child. And Jin sat with one legs tucked under his body, like he was meditating, and the other stretched out in front of him, useless. He stared at the ground beneath the les of his glasses, drawing in the dust with his finger while he talked.

"I've been searching…" He stopped suddenly. Mugen looked up expectantly. "It's a long story," sighed Jin. "It's best to start with the beginning." He looked up at them. "I've never told anyone this before."

"Man, we three have told each other everything. You can't hold out now," said Mugen. He paused to rub his upper lip and chin, and crack his neck. Fuu winced.

"I need your assurance that you will never speak of it again. It's… a disgraceful story."

"We promise!" chirruped Fuu immediately. She glared at Mugen.

"Aww… I promise, I promise."

She looked back to Jin. He sighed again, reached up to run a hand over the hair that was pulled into his ponytail. Then, he began.

"I grew up in a family with a long tradition of kenjetsu. Both my parents were samurai. And their parents, samurai. And their parents, samurai. And their parents, samurai."

"We get the idea."

"And their parents, samurai," continued Jin. "And do you know what their parents were?" He fixed Mugen with an intent look.

"Hmm, let me guess," said Mugen sarcastically, putting a thoughtful finger on his cheek. "Umm… samurai?"

"No, goatherds."

"Oh."

"But they were also very skilled with the sword. People steal goats, you know."

"Sure, I'll buy that."

"Because my parents were so skilled, and had been brought up in the Age of War, I had two very strong influences in my early life. One was our tradition… and the other, the constant threat of their enemies…."

"Ha!" The woman jumped up and landed on the table, taking a swipe at the man's head. He ducked, reached out and broke the table under her. She jumped again and spun, rolling over the ground and swinging at his legs. He spun away and she rose, running at him. The two hit with the force of a tsunami, and for a moment, they were locked in battle, swords flashing.

"Stop!"

Both frozen in mid-fight. The man had his sword in mid-swing over his head, his other hand stretched out before him, fingers splayed. The woman was in mid-crouch, one leg in front of the other, and her sword extended to the full length.

Both had dark hair and pale skin. The man had a heavy jaw and lined eyes; the woman's face was much longer and more angular, giving her a natural beauty even though she wasn't a very typical woman.

Between them, a small, fluffy dog waddled, its tail wagging.

"That dog!" growled the woman. She moved her foot, sweeping the little ball of fluff aside; it yipped indignantly. "How can we practice when it's always coming between us?"

"I sent it outside!" The man crossed the room; it was a small room with a low ceiling; a kitchen. He slid back a paper screen painted with a scene of the ocean and yelled out the window: "JIN! Come get your dog!"

The field ran down from the house, a steep waterfall of tall, dry grass that rippled in the wind. A small boy, shorter than the grass, turned his head. The rest of his body stayed frozen, balanced on one foot, in mid-form. He was practicing his kata.

"Jin! I said, come get this dog! You're dismissed from kata!"

Jin let his body go loose and he scurried (or rather, waded) up the hill toward the house. He burst in with his sword still hung over his shoulder; he was only about five, but had a startling seriousness imprinted on his babyish face.

"Sword," said both his parents. He banged his sword on the table before heaving up the small, fluffy dog. He yipped again and licked Jin's face.

"Ahh!" said Jin, partially blinded by the dog's tongue.

His father laughed and picked both him and the dog up, swinging them around. "Yori knows he's in trouble, so he's being particularly affectionate today," said Jin's father gravely. Jin laughed as well; it was true, the dog was never sweeter than when it was caught interrupting a fight or a meditation. Jin's mother's just scowled; she had less tolerance for the little dog, or as she called it, "Runt."

Jin's father, in his long, swishing dark blue kimono stamped with the Takeda mon, carried both Jin and the dog outside in his arms; Jin's mother didn't smile until she was sure both were gone. Then she turned to begin dinner, still smiling, the sun pouring in from the screens and lighting her red kimono until it glowed brighter than blood, the dragon embroidered on its side fixed in a permanent snarl of victory.

"Of course I was too young to appreciate the danger my family lived in. I heard my parents talk often about the Shogunate this, and the assassins that, and what will we do when those or these vagabonds come for us? But nothing ever really happened. It was all talk to me, pointless talk. I knew, I think, that we were at odds with the Takugawa family. But I didn't realize the significance of it until one day when I was nearly six, and my uncle went to the city… that's when everything changed…"