(Author's Note: Weird, weird, weird dream sequence here. I think I was probably on drugs when I wrote it.)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It's very easy to consider drowning oneself when one is in open air. But when one is trapped in the water, the instinct to survive takes over, and drowning is one of the last thoughts one has.

Jin learned this the hard way.

There was only a few inches of air in the barrel and it kept getting moved around every time the cart hit a bump on the road. His face crammed against the top of the barrel, gasping for air, Jin felt like he was trapped in some sort of cold tomb. It was pitch black and very tight, and his throat was swollen with panic. Why he was still even trying to survive confused him, but no matter how many times he reminded himself it was futile, he couldn't bring himself to drown. He kept his face pressed against the top of the barrel, breathing shallowly, often accidentally swallowing water and then coughing painfully.

The worst part was time. There was no sense of it at all. It was nothing but black, each sway and jolt threatening to cut Jin off from the precious little air he'd created when he'd fallen into the barrel in the first place, splashing out the water that normally came up to the rim of the barrel. A minute might have passed, or an hour. It was an eternal hell of water and blackness and suffocating.

Struggling to maintain his sense of calm, Jin began to count after a few moments of panic.

"…eight thousand six hundred ninety-two…" he mouthed, not making any noise for fear of using up all his air counting. "…eight thousand six hundred ninety-three…" He couldn't hear anything, because his ears were under water, but he could feel his own rapid breathing, and it made him unnerved. The faster he breathed, the more terrified he became; he couldn't control himself. He had never thought he was claustrophobic, but the fear was like a tangible entity that he was unable to quash. His counting tended to be faster when he was panicked, and that made it an unreliable system of telling time; and not knowing the time made him ever more panicked.

"Ten thousand!" he whispered hoarsely. "Ten thousand one… ten thousand two…" He thought about Mugen and Fuu, and wondered if they'd escaped. He hoped so. They were the only thing he cared about at the moment. He would gladly take the rest of his life in Shenji's servitude, if it meant that Fuu and Mugen could continue on their journey to Nagasaki and find the samurai Fuu so desperately needed to meet. But the fools—they'd come after him and ruined everything. He didn't want to fight, and Mugen had made him fight, just like always. He'd had to fight, to protect Mugen. If only he'd been killed. Then Mugen and Fuu wouldn't have tried anything so stupid, so dangerous. "…twelve thousand four hundred three…" Where did they get off, pushing him out a window, anyway? Couldn't they see he didn't want to be rescued? Couldn't they see what everyone else saw? That he was a freak, a monster, deserving of Shenji's mastery. No, not deserving. He was lucky that someone like that would want him at all. "…fifteen thousand hundred fifteen…" What did Mugen mean when he said "I love you?" Why had he said that? Maybe Jin had misheard… "…sixteen thousand two hundred…" He was starting to feel drowsy, dizzy and disoriented. He tried to tell himself that it was only the rocking of the barrel, but in the back of his mind, he couldn't quell the rising panic, the little voice that screamed Air! Air! AIR!

His body was cramping from being in the tight space. It was getting harder and harder to hold himself up. He felt tired… like he could just sink down… like sinking down into a deep sleep, heavy warm quilts, sinking and floating away…

The light came so suddenly that Jin cringed in pain and covered his eyes with his arms. His eyes had been closed, but the light seared them anyways; if they'd been open, he was sure he would have been blinded.

Suddenly he twisted, realizing he'd pulled his arms up; his arms were no longer confined. None of him was.

Startled, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was still in water, but bright, clear water. No barrel; no darkness. And… no suffocation.

He wasn't breathing, but he didn't feel any crushing pressure in his chest at all. No pain.

Confused, Jin twisted around, looking around in the water for some sign of what was going on. But there was nothing but water, and above him, light streaming down.

A school of fish slid over his head, glittering like gold.

Jin realized he was sinking.

Swimming slowly, he forced his way towards the light, his clothes pulling him down. It was a long, strenuous journey, but Jin didn't rush it; he didn't have to breathe.

The light grew brighter and brighter until he was all but blinded by it; then he broke the surface with a gasp and looked around him, heart hammering.

He was in a river, not the ocean. Everything was quiet, but it was a peaceful silence. Birds were chirruping quietly; the wind made the trees whisper, and over it all, the river trickled.

Jin looked down in horror. He was no longer swimming, but it didn't matter, because he was kneeling on the river bed. He'd swum to the surface, but now the water was gone; there were only a few feet of water in the river. Jin stood; it came to his waist.

His stomach knotted.

Something was wrong.

He pinched himself and winced when it hurt. Sluggishly, he pulled himself out of the water and sat on the bank, feeling sick and confused.

He wanted his swords.

Knowing that nothing would ever get explained without some action, he got up, dripping, and began walking away from the river. There was something sickening familiar about everything around him, but it wasn't until he broke out of the trees that he knew where he'd seen it all before.

Before him lay an endless field with tall, waving tan grass, and a house on a hill, a single peach tree jutting out from its base.

He was home.

Jin shielded his eyes against the sun and saw another person on the hill, doing the same. The moment Jin spotted him, he waved frantically, and then began tearing down the hill.

"Jin! Jin!"

Jin swayed on the spot.

Yuki ran up to him, collided, and kissed him full on the mouth.

"I'm dead," said Jin. His voice was flat, and sounded strange in the open, clear air of the country.

"Oh, no," said Yuki quickly, grabbing Jin as his knees buckled. "No, no, no. You're not dead, Jin-niisan. You're not dead. It's okay."

Jin groped for his arm numbly and pinched himself again, until he felt blood under his nails.

Yuki gently grabbed his hand and pulled it away from his arm. "Jin-niisan, stop. You're not dead." He stroked Jin's face comfortingly.

"I've drowned," said Jin numbly. "Where am I? Am I in the ghost realm? I knew it, I knew my karma was bad…"

"Jin-niisan, stop it," said Yuki sharply. "Does this look like some sort of hell to you? Huh?"

Jin pinched himself a third time. Yuki slapped his hand. "Stop that!"

"This is a hallucination," exclaimed Jin suddenly, feeling better. "I'm dreaming because my brain's being deprived of air."

"If it makes you feel better to say that, go ahead and say it," said Yuki gently. He set Jin down on the grass and sat across from him. "I'm glad to see you again," he added quietly.

"You too, Yuki-chan," said Jin mildly, looking up at the sky. "Will I die?"

"No. You'll be okay."

"Hmm." Jin scratched his arm. It hurt from being pinched.

"You're too hard on yourself, you know," said Yuki.

Jin shrugged.

"You need to learn to let go, Jin," said Yuki, lying down on his stomach and pulling pieces of grass to chew on the ends.

"Excuse me," said Jin, offended.

"I'm a hallucination, remember?" said Yuki mockingly. "Does it really matter if I call you Jin-niisan?"

"Well… no," admitted Jin, surprised.

"Take these off," added Yuki, reaching out for Jin's glasses and tugging them away. "Let your hair down. Rest a while."

Jin twisted his hands in his lap and wondered why he couldn't have had a better hallucination. One where he didn't feel so… exposed.

"As I was saying," added Yuki, rolling over and getting grass in his hair, "you need to learn to let go. You do this thing where you put up walls, detach yourself from everything… and bottle everything up. It used to drive me crazy. And now it's all getting backed up. Didn't I tell you to rest?"

Jin lay down obediently, too bewildered to disobey. Yuki wiggled up to him and tugged an arm over him. His body was warm and solid. Jin's hallucination was starting to scare him, because it was something he couldn't control, just like his fear, just like the imprisonment in the barrel.

"Control," scoffed Yuki. "That's all Shenji cares about. Jin, you're better than him. You have more to care about than just control."

"I'm not better than him," said Jin softly.

"Jin…" murmured Yuki sadly. He kissed Jin's neck. "You're a lot more vulnerable than you think. Shenji is no great demi-god. He's a regular person—an insecure and jealous person, at that. And you've let his psychological bullying belittle you. Come on, Jin. You know better than that…"

Jin shook his head. "You're asking me to think that I'm a better person than he is. But who lost their parents? Who killed Master? And who…" He shrugged.

"Jin, said Yuki gently. "Was any of that your fault? Could you, at seven years old, save your parents from the Shogun? Did you know Master was coming to kill you, or that it was him you were fighting? And is it your fault Shenji is a sick, depraved person? None of it is your fault, Jin. You have as much control over you life as a grain of sand in the ocean. But you don't have to control your life to live it. There are greater forces in the universe than just you or just Shenji or just the government. There's a whole, completely unfathomable guiding hand out there. It's time for you to let go, stop blaming yourself."

"You weren't so wise when you were alive," said Jin, feeling miffed at Yuki's speech.

"No one ever is," said Yuki.

Jin shook his head. "What am I saying? I'm only dreaming of you, anyway." He pinched his arm and murmured, "Wake up, Jin…"

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop that?" demanded Yuki. "You've got another eight minutes here, so knock it off!"

"How dare you speak to me like that!"

"Didn't I just tell you to learn to let go? Sheesh, can't you take any advice? Don't dead people have any credit any more?"

Jin looked at him sideways. "Did you really love me, Yuki-chan?"

Yuki's face twisted into a painful, sad smile. "Yes. Of course I did."

Jin lowered his head. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better shudo partner to you."

Yuki's smile this time was sincere. He laid a hand over Jin's. "You were the best."

"If I'd taught you better, Shenji wouldn't have…" Jin had to look away; he was choked up, and would rather leave a thought dangling than reveal his emotions.

"Jin. Didn't I just say it wasn't your fault? Hm? It was Shenji's. All Shenji's. Not yours. You were everything to me; you brought me nothing but happiness. I don't want you to beat yourself up over what happened."

"But Yuki-chan… I killed you."

"I was fated to die," said Yuki with a shrug. "I knew I'd die. But I died happy. I died in the arms of the only man I've ever loved, and the last thing I heard was his voice whispering my name. Don't you think I was happy?"

Jin managed a small smile. "Does it… hurt to die?"

Yuki shrugged. "Not as much as some things in life do."

"I'm sorry," Jin said again.

"No more apologies, Jin. They aren't needed here."

Jin nodded miserably, pulling grass from the ground and watching it slip through his fingers. Yuki reached out and gently tugged his kimono. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you?"

Jin shook his head.

"It was my first day in the dojo. You were talking across the courtyard like a scowling shadow, and I fell in love. I spent weeks stalking you, trying to figure you out. You didn't make it easy."

Jin smiled at the sky. "I didn't think anyone could like me."

"Everyone told me, 'Yukimaru, that man is less nurturing than a desert. He's a good swordsman but he'll be a terrible mentor. Go find someone else, someone who you deserve, who will at least love you back.' But I didn't want anyone else. So I kept after you, for weeks and weeks, knowing eventually you'd agree to have me."

"Are you jealous of Mugen?" asked Jin abruptly.

"Jin, please," said Yuki with a roll of his eyes. "I'm dead."

Jin pinched himself.

"If you pinch yourself one more time," warned Yuki, pushing his hair from his boyish face, "I swear, I'll…"

"You'll what?"

"I don't know," admitted Yuki.

Jin traced the ground with a finger, still lying on the grass. His clothes were dried form the sun and he felt warm, and as comfortable as one can be when they're talking to someone they've killed. "Why…" began Jin. He trailed off and shook his head.

Yuki fixed him with a cat-like stare of intensity and said, "Why you're here? Why I'm here? Mostly because of the air deprivation. But also because you needed someone to tell you it's not your fault. I don't expect you to let it all go right away. But you need to start, Jin. You'll meet Shenji one more time, I can guarantee that. But it'll all come out alright in the end. And after that, I want you to promise me you'll get better. Promise me you'll let yourself heal. And… I want you to promise you won't wait this time. Do everything for Mugen that you put off doing for me. Don't leave with any regrets."

Jin bowed his head. "I promise, Yukimaru."

Yukimaru scoffed slightly. "I don't know…" he muttered. "I think I'm a bit more attractive than that scruffy, ill-mannered…" He trailed off.

"So dead people can be jealous," mused Jin.

"Maybe a little," admitted Yuki.

"Can I wake up now?"

"No. You've still got a few minutes."

Jin sighed. He was sick of this hallucination. It seemed like a waste of time; and it made his head hurt.

He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of his dream-sun.

"This is a waste of time," voiced Jin after a moment.

"I'll admit, I sort of planned for this," answered Yuki.

"Why? We're done talking, aren't we?"

"Yes. But some things don't need words." Yuki reached out and stroked the sliver of Jin's chest that was exposed. He shivered.

"But you're not real."

"So what? You have an opportunity to make peace with me. Are you taking it or not?"

Jin turned his head and looked at Yuki's pleading face. He opened his arms and pulled Yuki close to him. The two embraced under the sun for a long time, their heartbeats synchronized.

"Time to wake up now, Jin."

"I don't want to leave you again."

"It's only a dream, isn't it?" asked Yuki mockingly.

"I don't want to go back," said Jin, clinging to Yuki.

"We'll meet again, someday. But now you need to go back," said Yuki gently. "Who's going to take care of Mugen and Fuu if you don't?"

Jin looked at Yuki, teetering on the edge of tears. Yuki reached out and cupped his cheek. "Jin," he whispered, "sometimes, it's okay to cry."

Jin leaned forward and kissed him, his tears running down his face. "I'm sorry," he gasped, groping for Yuki's mouth. "I'm sorry, Yuki-chan, I love you…"

"Shh." Yuki rocked Jin. "You'll be okay, Jin. Shh. It's time to go back now."

"But we'll see each other again?" asked Jin anxiously, stroking his thumb over Yuki's face.

"I promise you, Jin. And next time… next time, I promise I'll be more respectful."

Jin laughed through his tears. "And I'll act my age."

Yuki nodded approvingly. "Then… good-bye, for now. Remember what I told you." He reached forward and kissed Jin once last time. His lips were cold, as cold as ice; and the icy wetness spread through Jin's body in tremors, soaking him, paralyzing him, invading his chest, making him sick.

His eyes jerked open and he woke on the floor in a puddle of water, choking and coughing, with more than one bewildered kitchen worker standing over him.

The barrels had made it to the little tea house and been unloaded in a back room. One, noted one of the employees, was immensely heavy and obviously had something in it.

"Just a rat," assured the man who delivered them, as the two wobbled inside with the massive barrel between them.

"Must be one hell of a rat."

"Some get as big as dogs, down in Kisarazu."

"Let's get it out before it rots in the water."

They had pried open the lid and been greeted with the sight of, not a rat, but a human being floating face-down, robes and hair billowing around him like kelp in a stagnant pool.

"Oh, shit!" exclaimed the kitchen boy. He pushed his shoulder against the barrel and tipped the whole thing over. A wave of water, carrying with it the man, spilled onto the floor.

"Is he dead?" asked the man who was delivering, looking anxiously.

"I don't know," said the boy, kneeling.

The samurai twitched.

That had caused a real commotion. Within minutes, the cook and the waitresses and a few curious customers were standing over him, wondering what to do as he twitched and moaned and cried.

Finally, just as the cook suggested punching him in the stomach to get the water out of his lungs, his eyes had opened and he'd turned over on his own, coughing until there was nothing left to cough up.

"That's it," encouraged the cook. "Get it all out, hon."

"We ought to tell the owner about this," said the boy who'd pushed the barrel over. "Where is she?"

"Where?" asked the cook. "Hell, I don't know. KUMI-SAN!" she yelled. "KUMI-SAN…!"

"We could eat him."

"We're not eating my baby."

Mugen cast a longing look over his shoulder at the piglet that was still following them. The road they'd been on was becoming more and more overgrown. Currently, it was only two dirt tracks; the grass that lined it was slowly taking it back. They had passed a single, wide paddy, where a couple of farmers had looked up in shock. All three travelers had an ominous feeling that they were heading farther and farther away from all cities, and soon would be completely lost in the wilderness without food.

But, Mugen assured them, he knew exactly where they were going. ("Just like he did when he led us through that bamboo forest," Rini had muttered sarcastically.)

"We should have asked those farmers where the next village is," said Fuu unhappily. Behind her, Jin Junior sneezed.

"Awww!" she and Rini exclaimed at once.

"Come on… don't you guys like bacon?" prompted Mugen. Fuu and Rini stared at him in horror. "Ham?" he pressed.

"You're sick."

"Aw—c'mon! He's not really a baby! If you hadn't named him after Jin, we'd probably already have fried him."

"Question!" said Rini, jumping into the conversation with a quickness that implied she thought she'd be cut off. "How are you so sure of where Jin's going?"

Mugen shrugged. "Easy. Jin goes north. It's just what he does. And we just left Kisarazu. He probably took the same path he did last time he left Kisarazu."

"Jin's not that dumb."

"I didn't say he was," said Mugen flatly. "He just does stuff, you know? Like… what's it called…"

"Routine? Habit?"

"Yeah. That's why he's so boring."

"You say he's boring," mumbled Rini quietly to Fuu, "but you're in love with him."

Fuu snorted. Mugen turned to glare at them. "Are you talking about me?"

"No," they said in unison.

Mugen looked them up and down suspiciously. Even while slouching, with his sword hung behind his back, he could still pull off a threatening look. Rini and Fuu tried to appear innocent.

"Hurry up," grumbled Mugen finally, turning and picking up his pace. Fuu and Rini trailed behind beside each other, one in each track of the little path.

"He just can't wait to be reunited with his long-lost love," muttered Rini sarcastically out of the side of her mouth. Fuu snorted again.

Mugen whipped around. "Stop talking about me!"

"We weren't," said Rini with wide eyes. She waited until he'd turned back around before mumbling to Fuu, "How'd you end up with these two guys, huh?"

"I wanted some bodyguards to help me find… this guy," said Fuu cautiously. "They were the best I could find. At fighting, I mean."

"They must drive you crazy."

"They used to try killing each other constantly," said Fuu. "So, yes, between the fighting and the flirting, I'm feeling kind of crazy."

"Too bad about that," mused Rini. "He's kinda cute."

"Yeah," agreed Fuu dreamily.

"I mean, he's strong… he's mysterious… he's graceful… he's got this weird energy you can almost touch…"

"And dark eyes…" added Fuu with a sigh. "I just wish he weren't so quiet."

"Huh?" Rini looked at Fuu sideways. "I'm talking about Mugen!"

"Oh." Fuu blushed. "Yeah, I think he's obnoxious."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME!" roared Mugen ahead of them.

"I know you!" exclaimed Kumi. She's just been dragged into the back room by a waitress, to find Jin propped up by the cook, sipping sake and looking like a bedraggled, half-drowned animal.

Jin looked up at her, shocked. "Kumi?"

"And Yori, right!" she exclaimed. "By Jove, I never thought I'd see you again. This is incredible!" She scrutinized Jin—weak, soggy, and splayed out on the ground like a dying animal. "You don't have the best luck, do you?"

"Guess not," mumbled Jin with a twisted smile.

"Well, come on!" said Kumi cheerfully. Then, with sudden fury, she turned to the staff. "Get this man some food, will you? What are you all standing around for! Get to work!"

The kitchen staff immediately immersed themselves in a flurry of activity, while Kumi and the cook dragged Jin to his feet and pulled him into the teahouse. She was stouter than he remembered, but with a warm, comforting aura, like a fat mother hen.

Jin coughed up some more water, but Kumi just laughed it off.

"I can't believe you're back," she said gratefully, flopping down across from Jin. "How'd you get here? How'd you get in a barrel of water, anyway?"

Jin looked hopelessly confused by these questions. "A lot's happened," he said finally, peeling the wet sleeves of his kimono from his skin.

"Well… tell me."

"You own the teahouse now?"

"My father died last year," said Kumi breezily. "So it's mine. I'm young, but hey, I've been here since I was a kid. I know what I'm doing. Me and a cousin are running it. But you're avoiding the questions. What happened?"

Jin sighed. "The dojo found Jin."

"That's great!" exclaimed Kumi.

"He got away," added Jin.

"Oh." Kumi's face fell. "And… this somehow led to you being crammed in a rain barrel?"

"Hmm," said Jin neutrally.

Kumi shook her head in disbelief. "I'll tell you one thing, Yori. You may have bad luck, but you sure can survive anything. I mean, geez, I'm surprised you didn't drown."

"Hmm," repeated Jin.

"Are you planning on going back to Kisarazu?"

"Yes," said Jin. "There's something I owe someone there."

"Yeah? Hope it's something good."

"Not really."

"Too bad."

They lapsed into silence. "Hey, Yori?"

"Yes?"

"I hope I didn't scare you off. I mean, you know, last time we saw each other."

Jin looked up with a small smile. "The kiss, you mean? No, that was nice. I appreciated it."

"Married yet?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"I used to have someone…" Jin trailed off.

"What happened to her?" asked Kumi softly.

Jin shrugged. "I made a commitment to someone to do something first. I was going to go back for her. But then… some other things came up. And now… I'm indebted to someone else."

"Glad you made that nice and clear," said Kumi sarcastically with a shake of her head. Her voice softened. "But I'm glad to see you, Yori. I've thought a lot about you over the last few years. I hoped life was treating you okay."

"Not particularly."

"Well," said Kumi, "if you ever need a job as a waiter…"

She and Jin chuckled amiably. Jin felt like he'd suddenly been thrust back several years, like he was younger. Much, much younger. He'd aged a lot since he had left Kumi's teahouse the first time; being back, under very similar conditions, gave him an irrational sense of youthfulness, like he'd just been thrust out into the world and had the opportunity to fix everything bad that would come to him the second time around.

"So… what's with this indebting thing?" asked Kumi.

Jin lowered his head. "I wasn't entirely honest with you last time we met."

"Yeah. I figured."

"My… assailant… wasn't a Takeda," he said, choosing each word carefully and speaking in a soft voice. "I'm a Takeda myself. It was a Miyazaki. Our families… aren't on the best terms."

"Mm, mm, mm," said Kumi, nodding.

"This Miyazaki and I agreed to a duel and… he won. So I owe my life to him. We were separated accidentally."

Kumi looked puzzled. "You owe your life to him? What… you're his slave?"

Jin looked surprised by her choice of words, but then bowed his head. "Yes… I suppose so."

Kumi shook her head violently. "Yori!" she snapped. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard! Losing a fight doesn't mean someone owns you."

"We agreed to terms…" Jin began, but Kumi cut him off.

"Oh, shut up. You samurai and your dumb honor code! Yori, first of all, you can't ever really give yourself away to anyone. You have a soul, and it's not something you can just tie up a package and gamble away in a fight."

Jin looked doubtful. Kumi reached over the table and took his hand. He gave it to her willingly.

"Yori, ever had a dog?"

Jin smiled. "Yes, I did."

"That dog was yours, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Ever tried to train him to do something?"

"Several things," said Jin. "But he normally wouldn't…" He trailed off.

"See? That dog lived with you. But were you really his master? No, of course not. You can't really manipulate living things like they're just objects."

"But he wasn't wild or anything," said Jin.

"He didn't stay because you owned him, Yori. You can't own living things. He stayed because that dog loved you. If you want to give yourself to someone, do it for someone you love. Don't gamble your soul off in a battle. That's just wrong. Everything's free; you only get owned when you give up and let the other person manipulate you. I'm free, you're free… we're as free as we let ourselves be. And putting limits on yourself… hell. That's just wrong."

"Hmmm," said Jin, long and thoughtfully while Kumi stroked his hand. "I think you might like Mugen, Kumi."

"Who's Mugen?"

"He was—is—was—he's a sort of… soul mate… he's from Ryukuu… well, actually, I meant to kill him but I can't… and now we're friends… what?"

Kumi laughed and squeezed Jin's hand. "Sometimes I wish I led your life, Yori."

Jin shook her head. "That's a terrible wish."

Kumi sobered up quickly. "A couple of misfortunes don't make your life not worth living." She added, somewhat annoyed, "How'd your stomach heal, by the way?"

"Fine. It left a scar."

"And… your other injuries?"

"Recently aggravated again," said Jin crossly.

"Oh… Yori." Kumi squeezed his hand comfortingly. "Rest here a while. Please."

"I have to find Shenji-san," muttered Jin.

"Is he that Miyazaki?"

"Yes."

"Is he the one who did this to you?"

"Yes."

Kumi shook her head. "Yori, I hope you find him. I hope you find him so you can give him what he deserves."

"You may not believe this…" murmured Jin, smiling up sadly through his circle-lined eyes, "…but that was my original plan."

"You ought to follow through with it," said Kumi. "Someone who keeps surviving like you is stronger than that. You're not the kind of guy who would just give up, Yori."

"I'm just… tired," muttered Jin.

"That's what rest is for," said Kumi firmly, rising. "Come on. I think your old room is open."