(Author's Note: This chapter has a LOT. First of all, it contains graphic sexual violence, swearing, and other adult themes, which I warned you about in the first chapter. You probably skipped over that, didn't you? Also, it reveals the mysterious identity of Jin's enemy. Apologies to my friend Shenji. Shenji's original name was, ironically, Yuki. Then I discovered Jin already had a weird relationship with a Yuki and I thought it might get confusing. I love you, Shenji, but I ran out of Japanese names to use. Lastly this contains my favorite passage in the entire freakin' story, which I'll highlight here cause I'm just so darn proud of it: "sunny tatami floor, stained red with blood and yellow with sunshine pouring in through broken screens, mountains split and oceans crumpled." Woot! Go me! This chapter also contains the phrase, "Samurai don't need hugs," but you'd already know that if you'd stop reading these dumb annotations and continue reading the actually story.)
CHAPTER TEN
He knelt by the sand that morning, just as his parents had so many years ago. If anyone had walked by, they'd have thought Suoh was resurrected. Jin, in his father's clothes, with his head bowed so only his dark hair showed, looked identical. His weapons hung from his obi at the same angle.
He knelt there, resting on his heels, and stared at the sand. It made him think of the beach, and the ocean, stretching out endlessly, just like the world and its possibilities. There was an endless arrangement of sand, each grain fitting into place to create the patch that sat before him.
He thought about his parents; his father's gruff ways, inviting him to spar and slowing down to let him last longer; his mother, laughing when the wind caught the linen and she had to chase the sheets that were floating away down the hill. He wondered.
By the time he stood, the sun was high in the sky. He went back inside. A man was sitting there at his table, wearing the same kimono as him, his feet on the table.
Jin drew his sword.
"Shenji?" he asked uncertainly.
"That's me." Shenji removed his feet from the table. "I thought I'd find you here. Everyone's searching, you know. The whole dojo. You killed him, didn't you?"
"It was an accident!" protested Jin weakly.
"How'd you kill him, huh, Jin? We're kids. You shouldn't have stood a chance."
"I don't know. It was a mistake. I didn't even know it was him…"
"They'll kill you when they find you. You're a murderer, you know. And a traitor. Just like your parents."
"Don't talk about my parents!" shouted Jin.
"Calm down, Jin. I'm not here to fight. I'm not going to kill you." He examined his nails. "In fact, if you look closely, I'm completely unarmed."
Jin lowered his sword. "Why, Shenji?" he asked. For the first time, he felt more hopeful. Shenji wasn't here to kill him. Shenji wasn't after him, like everyone else. Maybe—just maybe, for the first time in his life, he had a friend.
"There's worse things than death, Jin. Not everyone gets that. There's other things. Like loss. I know it, you know it, even Kariya knows it. You know Kariya Kagetoki. We're pretty good friends, him and I. We've known loss. Because of you. Master Enshirou-san loved you, you know. He would have given you anything. Jin, the talented little orphan. He ignored us. We weren't perfect, like you. Never mind that we worked twice as hard. We just weren't as talented. He probably never even thought of giving me the dojo." Shenji's nose scrunched up for a moment as he picked a piece of dirt from under his thumbnail. "Oh, he'll kill you, Kariya will. Now that you've killed Master Enshirou-san, neither of us can be named the successor of the dojo. Thanks a lot, by the way."
"I'm sorry!" cried Jin. "He was trying to kill me and I defended myself! I didn't know it was him until—until—"
"I don't care, okay, Jin? You've ruined everything. Not just now. Your whole life you've ruined things for us. And now everyone in the dojo has an excuse to kill you. Mark my words, it'll be Kariya. Oh, he hates you…"
"But you. Why are you here?" asked Jin.
Shenji rose and walked over to Jin. Jin raised his sword, then lowered it, remembering Shenji was defenseless. Shenji was so close Jin could see every hard feature. His hair was shorter than Jin's, pulled back; but his fringe still came down nearly to his eyes, cut straight, each lock creating a long rectangle that gave Jin the impression that Shenji's head was thatched. His eyes were angry, framed with a thin pair of glasses, and had large circles under them. His ears were pierced.
He held out a hand.
Jin looked down at it in surprise.
"Put away your sword, Jin, and take my hand."
Jin could have sobbed with gratefulness. He put his sword aside and took Shenji's hand; and Shenji wrenched his arm around his back and threw him to the floor, sitting on his back, straddling him like a mule. Jin yelled in surprise.
"Shenji! Get off me!"
"Thought I was your friend, right? I always thought you were stupid. Not so great without your swords, are you, Jin? You need them, don't you? That's all you have, Jin, is your swords. And what are they, except lifeless pieces of metal? Think about that."
"Let me go," demanded Jin evenly.
"No, Jin. Me and the others, we used to talk about you. 'If you could do anything you wanted to Jin, what would you do?' we'd ask. Most people just wanted to fight you and win, even kill you. But like I said, there's worse things than death. And I never wanted to kill you. I wanted to control you. I wanted to disgrace you. I wanted to hurt you so bad, you'd spend the rest of your life wandering around without anything left. And now I can."
"Shenji!" cried Jin. But the conversation was over. Shenji was still holding Jin's hands, but was beginning to tug at his obi. Jin squirmed, but Shenji yanked it off and used it to tie Jin's wrists together. When he was sure Jin couldn't get loose, he began pushing up Jin's kimono and tugging at his hakama.
"Shenji!" yelled Jin again, finally realizing what was happening.
"You've never been with a woman, have you, Jin? No, of course you haven't, no one would want to lay with a freak like you."
"Shenji, let me go! I swear, I didn't mean to kill him! It was an accident!"
"This isn't even about Master Enshirou-san, Jin! Open your eyes!"
Jin squeezed them tightly shut as Shenji forced his legs open, biting down as hard as he could on his lip when the thrusts started. He didn't want to cry out, but couldn't help it; within a few minutes he was crying out like a lost child at each one. It was like sandpaper, tearing him apart from the inside. Shenji finally groaned, straining against Jin's trembling body, and relaxed, tangling his fingers in Jin's hair, pulling it out of its ponytail to fluff it.
"Hurt… didn't it?" whispered Shenji in his ear.
"Get off me," said Jin, nearly in tears.
"Don't you mean, get out of you?" Shenji smirked, stroking Jin's hair with fake tenderness. "Not yet, Jin. First I want to hear you beg. I want to hear you cry and plead with me."
"I can't," said Jin in a small voice, as tears finally began coursing down his face.
"Yes, you fucking can, bitch!" Shenji jerked his hips; Jin let out a dry sob.
"Okay, okay! I'll do anything you want! Please, Shenji-san, let me go. You've beaten me. Please, I—I beg for mercy."
Shenji settled comfortably on top of Jin, resting his chin on Jin's shoulder and still fondling his hair. "Did you know you have really soft hair?" he whispered.
Jin sobbed in reply, finally breaking. "Please, please, stop touching me," he cried, turning his head away. Shenji smiled and kept caressing his hair, running his fingers behind Jin's ears like he was a dog, while Jin whimpered pathetically.
"Listen to you, you little bitch. You're nothing without your swords. You can't even stop me from touching your face." He demonstrated, running a hand over Jin's moist cheek. "That's sad, Jin. Really sad."
Jin just cried in reply. Shenji finally lifted his hips off Jin and wiped himself on the back of Jin's kimono. "Nasty," Jin heard him mutter quietly to himself. Jin didn't have to crane his neck to see the blood; he could smell it.
Jin rested his cheek on the floor and tried to control his heavy breathing, feeling sick and exposed. He didn't have time to recuperate; Shenji grabbed his loose hair and yanked him to his knees.
"I'm not done with you, Jin. Not by a long shot. We have hours before anyone else comes here. Don't worry, I'll give you plenty of a head-start. Hell, I'll even lie for you, and tell them you weren't here. I don't want you to die, Jin. You don't deserve that."
Jin swayed on his knees, staring at the floor, a circle framed with black hair. A pool of bright red blood was spreading… spreading… and he was kneeling in it. His blood. Not his parents', not his master's, his, on this floor already stained… sunny tatami floor, stained red with blood and yellow with sunshine pouring in through broken screens, mountains split and oceans crumpled.
"I want you to swallow, Jin," said Shenji in a low voice. He grabbed Jin's chin and yanked his head up, so they were eye-to-eye. "I want you to fucking enjoy yourself, like the bitch you are. You're going to like it. And if you even think of biting…" He stretched to grab Jin's sword; he pointed it at Jin's crotch. "I'm gonna cut off everything you have left. Got it?"
"Yes," gasped Jin. He hadn't even thought of that; he was beyond thinking, beyond plotting, beyond fighting. He wanted to lie down and die. But he couldn't; he was being held up, having Shenji force himself into him for the second time; and this time even worse, he was responding, groaning weakly because he had no other choice. And all the time Shenji's hands were tangled in his hair, stroking, rooting deeper…
"I'm not really sure when he left. He was there hours, I know. I just remember he said something about… about never wanting to show my face again. 'You'll need these,' he said, and threw his glasses down on the floor next to me. Then he left. I think I passed out."
The fire had died down so that it was little more than glowing ashes, but no one moved to grab wood. Mugen and Fuu sat next to each other, across from Jin with their mouths hanging slightly open. Jin stared straight up at the stars, talking more to himself than to them. His voice was no longer calm, but shaking slightly, barely controlled. He was blinking furiously as he stared at the stars.
"Oh… Jin," whispered Fuu. She rose and went to his side. She reached out, but his shoulder twitched violently and he pulled away. He folded her hands in her lap, looking sorrowful.
"The… the glasses," said Mugen uncertainly. "Are those…?"
"Yes." Jin finally tore his gaze away from the stars and pulled off the glasses he always wore. He offered them to Fuu. She took them and turned them over in her hands.
"Jin," she said quietly. "Can I please hug you?"
Jin lowered his head. "I'm a samurai. I don't need hugs," he said darkly, his vulnerability vanishing.
"You weren't a samurai when… when all that happened. You were still in training, technically, weren't you? I mean—you weren't even eighteen yet."
"Can I give you a hug?" blurted Mugen. Neither Fuu nor Jin was sure if it was a joke, but both laughed anyways, because there was something in the way he said it that broke the tension in the air.
Fuu leaned over and put her arms around Jin. He was as stiff as a rock and didn't hug back. She thought he was just barely tolerating it. When they separated, she handed him back the glasses. He put them back on.
"So why do you wear them, if Shenji tortured you?" asked Mugen. Fuu had to admire the way he'd changed the wording subtlety to spare Jin the embarrassment.
"As a reminder," said Jin darkly. "That's why I'm on the road. I have more than one enemy in this world. But I'm seeking only one. I'll find Shenji someday. I know he's out there, probably on the run. He knows me. He knows I'll want revenge."
"So your whole motivation for this journey is to find a guy you haven't seen in years and kill him?"
"No," said Jin, eyes narrowing. "Not to kill him. There are things worse than death."
"Oh, Jin!" cried Fuu.
"When I find him, I'm going to do to him what he did to me. It's going to be a hundred times worse for him. He's going to wish he was never born. I'll make him fucking cry."
It was the first time either Mugen or Fuu had heard Jin swear. He rarely let his passions go; he spoke very little and chose his words carefully.
"Damn, Jin," said Mugen after a moment. "So… when you told us you were just wandering around, running away, whatever you want to call it, you've actually had a direction this whole time?"
"Yes," said Jin.
"Jin, that's terrible! You can't—you can't do that. You'd just be acting just like the monster Shenji is."
"I don't care," he said flatly.
"Jin, come on. Seriously, man. Think about it. You're trying to bang a dude. When you're sixty, do you want to look back at your life and say, 'gee, I spent twenty years looking for a guy to fuck?'"
"I don't care," repeated Jin.
There was another long silence.
"I never got my hug," said Mugen after a moment. This time, Fuu and Jin knew he was joking, and laughed appreciatively.
"Well," said Jin finally. "When I woke, it was only an hour before sunset, and I knew at any moment they might come for me. I was in… no condition to travel. I could barely stand. I thought at that point I should commit seppuku…"
"You were gonna kill yourself?" asked Mugen.
"Yes. I'd never… I wasn't very sure how to. But it seemed like the only option I had. So I knelt on the floor and opened my kimono…"
Fuu's hands went up to her face in horror. "You didn't…"
"Yes, Fuu, Jin killed himself and this is his ghost talking to us," said Mugen sarcastically.
"No, I didn't," said Jin with a small smile. "I didn't think I could hold my sword steady enough to do it. I drew a line across my stomach, thinking I could just follow it, in short cuts, if I had to. But then I…" He looked up again and talked to the stars. "I remembered seeing my father… and Master Enshirou-san… and… I couldn't do it. And I kept thinking of Shenji telling me I didn't deserve death and… I was scared."
"Hey," said Mugen gently. "You were going to. That's farther than most would've ever gotten."
Jin looked back across the fire and allowed himself a small smile. "I still have the scar."
For a moment, Fuu was struck with what a bizarre night it had been. Jin was talking uninhibitedly, swearing, smiling, even almost crying. He was displaying more emotion in telling his story than he had in possibly his entire life, letting them see every weakness, and implying the degree of trust he had invested in them.
"Okay… I gotta see this," said Mugen.
Jin ducked his head and began untying his obi. Fuu covered her eyes and peeked through her fingers when he opened his kimono. He pulled away the cloth gently to exposure his abdomen; directly below his navel was a long scar, nearly as thick as Fuu's fingers.
"Damn!" exclaimed Mugen. "I thought you said you drew a thin little line, that thing is ginormous."
"I did draw a line. I drew a heavy line that would be easy to follow. And… it got infected. And left a scar."
"I've never seen it before," confessed Fuu, still peering through her fingers.
"I kept it hidden," he said mildly. "It's low enough… well, I'm not as shameless as Mugen."
"Heh," said Mugen unconvincingly, still staring. Fuu reached out to touch it; Jin jerked away, then, as if embarrassed by his reaction, inched back to her and held back his kimono, offering her to go ahead. She ran a finger over it; Jin's stomach twitched irritably.
"I can't believe…" began Fuu, then trailed off. Jin's eyes narrowed.
"Jin, don't worry about it. I know how it feels," said Mugen breezily.
"You have no idea how it feels," snapped Jin bitterly as he put his clothes back in place. Mugen's eyes flashed. He stood up, crossed to the others side of the fire, and sat next to Jin. Fuu noticed he tensed up. Mugen thrust his hands out, underarms facing up.
"Take a look," he said.
Jin and Fuu peered closely. Faint scars crossed Mugen's wrists.
Jin's head jerked up and he stared at Mugen with a meaningful look. They stared at each other a long time.
Then Mugen put his arms out comically, forced a pout, and asked, "Well? I'm here. Where's my damn hug?"
Fuu put a hand to her mouth and snorted. She'd accidentally created a running joke that would haunt her for the rest of the life.
Jin bowed his head and ran a hand over the top of his head to ensure his ponytail was in place. "Mugen, have you ever hugged anyone before? Ever? In your life?" he asked with mild disgust
"Nope!" said Mugen cheerfully. "But there's a first time for everything, isn't there? Come here, man." With gentle gruffness, he pulled Jin to him. For a moment Jin was tense; then Fuu saw him relax visibly, putting his arms around Mugen and laying his head on Mugen's shoulder. Mugen looked shocked. He gave Fuu a panicked look over Jin's shoulder, as if to ask what to do. Fuu motioned frantically to let him rest. She couldn't see Jin's face, but knew instinctively that his eyes were closed and he needed a moment of safe peace before he continued. The embrace lasted for far longer than she'd expected. Mugen had a funny look on his face the whole time. But when Jin pulled away, he was smiling—though Fuu saw him wipe his eyes behind his glasses when he thought no one was watching.