(Author's Note: Do you think it's formulaic that I had everyone go back to Jin's house? Perhaps it is. But symbolically it's important. Jin is going "back in time," and is being given the oppurtunity to fix things. So stop complaining about how predictable I'm being; I'm only doing it for Jin!)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

As the party walked across the field, Fuu saw telltale signs of exhaustion from Jin. His head was bowed, his back slouched. He was limping heavily, far worse than he had been earlier.

It struck her that it might not be his injured leg this time.

"I brought your journal," said Rini suddenly.

Jin's head rose. "You did?" he asked softly.

"And your swords," said Fuu.

There was a long pause. Jin had bowed his head again, hiding his eyes behind both his hair and his glasses. Finally, Fuu heard him mutter "Thank you" in a strangled voice.

They walked back to the place they'd been resting before Jin's arrival, a circle of flattened grass with their things strewn around the perimeter. Rini flopped down without a second thought, but Mugen and Jin remained standing.

Jin observed his swords with a curt nod. Then he offered Mugen his hand. Mugen took it. Without a word, both walked away.

"Going to meditate?" guessed Rini, putting a sarcastic emphasis on "meditate."

"Yes, they are!" snapped Fuu, surprised by her own anger. "And you'd better stop taking out all your disappointment over Shenji on them, or we'll leave you right here to figure out your own way home!"

Rini was silent.

Jin Junior had been lying down with his head resting on his two tiny forefeet for nearly an hour, when he abruptly picked up his head.

Fuu followed his gaze, confused. There was no noise, no wind, nothing that she could see that had attracted the pig's attention. But he stared so intently that she rose and directed her attention to the same area.

She wasn't disappointed. Two samurai emerged from the trees. For a split second, she thought it was Mugen and Jin. But they had gone in the opposite direction.

Slowly, two familiar faces came into focus.

Rini scrambled to her feet. "Miyazaki-san!" she exclaimed, bowing.

Shenji scowled and looked at her disdainfully. "You again?" he said with unconcealed contempt. Fuu heard Rini give a little cry that Shenji probably didn't hear—and, if he did, didn't care about.

"Where is he?" asked the second samurai—Saiyu. Yet it wasn't the same Saiyu Fuu remembered. She'd seen this samurai before, and he'd always seemed calm, level-headed, reasonable. But now his face was twisted into unparallel fury, making it ugly and monstrous. He already had his swords out.

Fuu opened her mouth—unsure of what to say, but knowing she had to say something—when she was saved by a voice behind her.

"I'm here."

Fuu stepped out of the way, grabbing Rini under the arms and dragging her away. Jin Junior followed Fuu and peeked through her legs with a snort of worry.

Jin and Mugen faced Shenji and Saiyu, all four casting long, moonlight shadows over the silver waves of the grass.

"Thought you could get away?" asked Shenji.

"No," said Jin honestly.

"You're a coward, Jin. Running away. That's just cowardice."

Jin gave no indication he'd heard.

"At least your parents had some sense of nerve." He nodded toward the house behind Jin. "For Takeda, I mean. They stayed and fought. More than you've ever done."

Jin's head, previously angled toward the ground, jerked up. "You don't know anything about what happened to my parents," he said softly.

Shenji smirked. "I know more than you know, you Takeda bastard. A lot more."

The screen slammed as Ryuji came home. It was late, but every lantern in the house was still burning, and his wife, Kira, was standing sleepily over a sink, mixing some beef in water for shabushado.

Ryuji kicked off his sandals unceremoniously and crossed the room, tossing a purse of coins on the table.

"What's wrong?" asked Kira, looking up.

He lifted his right arm without a word. A long, deep gash across his ribs was leaking blood. "Fucking Takeda woman," he muttered softly.

"Oh... Ryuji," whispered Kira, hugging him.

"It's not too bad… it'll heal," he said roughly.

"All were killed, I take it?" asked his wife, nodding to the coins on the table.

Ryuji ran a tired hand over his face. "The man and the woman. They were supposed to have a son, but we couldn't find him. Doesn't matter, anyways. The kid was probably only six."

Kira shook her head. "Why would people like that have a child in the first place?" she asked plaintively.

"They're Takeda," he said flatly, easing himself into a chair and raising his arm to examine the wound. "The dog bit me, too. Miserable little rat thing. Between that and the woman, I had my hands full…"

"How many others were there?"

"Oh… I don't know. Over a dozen, easy. There were some Kawano… Fukuoka… Negishi. Lots of good people. But that woman… she was like a wind-demon. After the man went down, it was all we could do to hold her. She nearly took my head off a few times… The whole time he spoke, his voice rose steadily, excited by the fight. Kira hushed him anxiously.

"Shenji is sleeping!" she hissed.

But Shenji wasn't. He was sitting on the steps. He was only seven, but had learned something. Whenever his father and mother kissed in the evening and then his father left, it meant he was going to do something dangerous. He often came back the next morning boasting wounds and talking about the glory of working for the Shogunate. Shenji had learned to embrace him whenever he left in the evening, because he might never come back. Every night, Shenji would sit on the steps, his head in his hands, while the cat weaved around his legs purring. He would listen cautiously to his parents' conversation, to find out how badly his father was hurt, and then creep back to bed before they could discover him.

"A few people went a bit crazy," Ryuji was murmuring now. Shenji had to lean forward to listen. "Kept hacking away at her after she'd fallen. Nothing left of her pretty little face but mincemeat."

"Ryuji!" cried Kari reprovingly. "That's a horrible thing to say! You should kill with honor."

"Ah, what do you know about honor, woman?" There was a squeak as Ryuji leaned back in his chair. "Besides, they were only Takeda dogs…"

"I hope no one got too carried away," said Kari with a hint of warning in her voice.

"Oh, no," said Ryuji quickly. "No one would want to fuck that Takeda bitch, anyway, if that's what you mean. There wasn't even anything left to fuck…"

"Shh! Shenji!"

"Right, right." Ryuji lowered his voice again. "By the way, I got a message from Kariya Kagetoki. He, ah, wanted to know if we'd be interested in earning a little more money on the side…"

"No. Absolutely not," said Kari curtly. "I worry enough with you doing all these suicidal tasks for the Shogunate. I won't have you working as some sort of personal assassin for that man…"

"Come on, baby. Do you know how hard it is to find work? We're just barely making ends meet as it is. War times are over. Soon, there won't be anything left but assassin jobs. It's only a matter of time before Master Enshirou-san turns over the dojo to Kariya Kagetoki. You own son might train under him one day…"

"And when he does, so can you," snapped Kari.

"Hell, why should I listen to you anyway?" scoffed Ryuji, and Shenji heard a light slapping sound. "Get me something to eat already, will you?"

"Anything for my dearest husband…" muttered Kari sarcastically. Normally, it would have escalated into a fight that would leave Shenji clamping his pillow over his head, trying to muffle out the screams and slaps and clashes. But, perhaps because of Ryuji's injury, he let the comment slide, and Shenji tip-toed back upstairs to a peaceful sleep.

Shenji found himself smirking, savoring the memory. "The Shogun sent my father to kill you. But you ran away then, too, didn't you? Fate's been good to me; I can complete that task now. You can run your whole life, Jin. But we'll always find you. The Miyazaki never leave a task unfinished."

"So you're killing me now?" asked Jin humorlessly.

"It's no less than you deserve!" shouted Saiyu suddenly, springing forward. Shenji's arm darted out to stop him.

"Saiyu-san…" appealed Jin quietly.

"Don't Saiyu-san me, you son of a bitch!" shouted Saiyu. "We showed you every courtesy! We paid you ever respect! And this is how you repay us? By slaughtering everyone at the dojo? By leaving Kohachiro completely crippled and helpless, leaving him suffering like that?" His voice lowered to the softest of whispers. "You monster. You sick, monstrous freak. How would you like it if I did that to your bitch, huh?" He gestured toward Mugen.

"I'd like to see you try!" snapped Mugen, readying his sword.

Jin and Shenji held up their hands.

"That man's no bitch," said Shenji. "He happens to be a very talented swordsman."

"Like your opinion matters to me," snarled Mugen.

"I could tell you who the bitch of that relationship is," said Shenji with a twisted smile on his face, beginning to pace in front of Saiyu while staring fixedly at Jin. "Which one is the little, submissive whore. The answer might surprise you."

Jin stared back at him over the tops of his glasses, a tic starting in one eye.

"Or maybe Jin would like to tell us? Maybe Jin knows which one of us here is the sad little cunt who's bleeding like a little girl on her wedding night."

Jin's eyes narrowed as Rini and Saiyu's widened.

"Not so different from your mother after all, are you, Jin? She died the same way you will…"

Jin suddenly tensed. "My mother died honorably," he hissed.

"Oh, I seem to have hit a sensitive spot…" Shenji smirked even wider. "Just like last night, right, Jin?"

Rini made a noise—a small, weak, squawking noise of utter horror.

"I don't belong to you," said Jin softly. "You can't control me. Not anymore, Shenji."

"Such brave words from such a brave little Takeda," Shenji mocked him. "You can say anything you like, Jin. But you'll always be the pathetic little uke you've always been, just like everyone in your pathetic little family. Was she the one who taught you how to speak prettily to your seme, Jin-chan? Hm? Go ahead and speak brave words. They don't make you brave. On the inside, you're just as cowardly and ill-bred as the rest of your type. Fuck… I bet your forefathers were nothing but goat herds."

"FUU!" shouted Jin, finally losing his head. Fuu didn't need telling twice. She lunged across the ground, grabbed Jin's swords, and threw them. He caught them and lunged at Shenji, who let out a surprised yell. Mugen and Saiyu both lunged as well; for a moment the four were nothing more than a blurred design of silver swords in the dark night. Then it was over.

"Shenji," panted Jin. Shenji was flat on his back, Jin's foot pressed on his throat. He clung to Jin's sandal with wet choking noises. "You call me cowardly and pathetic. But I'm not the one who's talking. I'm not the one who hides behind words and childish bullying tactics. I worked hard for my honor. And you can—you could take me a thousand times over, and never take my honor. That's mine. And I'm never giving it to you. I'm through with you."

"Go, Jin!" said Mugen, who had Saiyu in a headlock, and a dagger pointed at his throat.

"Going… to… kill me?" wheezed Shenji.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" hissed Jin vehemently. "No, Shenji. You don't deserve that." His voice lowered, so softly that, if a breeze had blown, no one would have heard him. "There are worse things than death."

Shenji's eyes widened and, for a moment, he stopped struggled. Even Saiyu's hands, on Mugen's arm, went limp.

"Jin," said Mugen unsteadily. "Jin?"

Jin didn't stir. He and Shenji just stared at each other, Shenji's face slowly melting into a horrified realization that he was going to lose. No, he mouthed.

"Yes," said Jin with twisted satisfaction, beginning to smile.

"Jin!" repeated Mugen with insistently, looking alarmed. Still, Jin didn't move. He had the same crazy glint in his eye Saiyu and Shenji had. "Jin, kill him!"

Jin tossed his sword aside and pressed his throat more firmly on Shenji's throat, smiling uninhibitedly when he cried out.

Rini covered her eyes. For a split second Fuu saw Mugen's face. It was a look she'd seen before. A look that said, I'm can't believe I'm going to do this. But I'm going to do this.

There was a flash of movement and a ripping sound. Saiyu let out a gurgle and, released from Mugen's grip, his hands flew up to his severed throat. He turned and looked at Fuu, startled, trying to mouth something at her. But all that came out was a large, red bubble; Saiyu fell to the ground, his neck spurting, and shuddered when the bubble popped.

"Jin," said Mugen desperately. "I'm sorry." He lunged suddenly and shoved Jin over, then, before Jin could rise, had pulled his sword and cut open Shenji's throat.

Rini screamed. But her scream was nothing compared to Jin's.

Jin screamed like it had been his throat that was cut and he dived toward Shenji's body, the blood already pooling beneath it. "You killed him! You killed him!" cried Jin in total disbelief. His eyes were wide behind his glasses; he looked like he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. The crazy glint was gone, and replacing it was the horror of ultimate loss. He knelt over Shenji's body, his kimono sleeves fluttering down like birds to rest of Shenji's chest. He looked up, eyes wide, at Mugen. "You killed him!" he repeated.

"I'm sorry, Jin. I had to," said Mugen quietly. He stood loosely beside him, sword dangling limply at his side, shoulders slouched.

"You… you killed him! He's dead!" The last two words made it real for Jin. He made an odd noise in the back of his throat, laid his head over Shenji's chest, and burst into a flood of tears. Fuu immediately knelt and put her arms over him, but she doubted he could sense her; it was the first time he'd completely lost control since that day with Shenji so many years ago, and Fuu doubted he knew who he was or where he was or even why he was so upset.

Mugen turned away and, having opened Pandora's box, sheathed his sword and went back towards the house.