She doesn't see with her eyes?
He met her charge with one of his own. Hers landed. Who the hell was she? Another strike, another hit taken. He could not win this here or now. He eyed the bridge and in a desperate measure cut the ties holding the planks together. Both were thrown to the water, and for a second time since his exile, he let himself fall. Maybe this time, it was because of the blood loss. He didn't know, couldn't think clearly enough to figure it out. He landed back first in the water.
When he came to, the sight and smell of preserved and roasted river fish and meats assaulted him. He weakly turned his head to his right, towards the source of heat and light. There, skewered around a brazen fire were charred fish. He bet they tasted good. His attempt to rise was halted by pain, intense and disabling with its burning sear.
He wanted to repay this man for tending to him and most likely saving his life, especially if all he asked for was his company, but he was worried about the others. He needed to get back to Fuu. Mugen could look after himself but the other man quite stunk at looking after others. Fuu needed him desperately. But the pain!
Food was offered and he was terribly hungry. He could have gone with out the cruel joke, however. He pulled himself along the seating edge, closer to the steaming bowl until his fingers' fumbling grasping could pull it in far enough to clasp. No food? What? The strange older man spoke to him through the hole in the side wall, speaking of surely giving him nourishment. He had to go catch fish, first, though. What the fuck? He only looked on in vacant confusion. Was this…hell?
He couldn't wait forever to feed his healing body and so he struggled to the river's edge with a walking aid. The other man was indeed trying to catch fish. He spoke to him of fish philosophy, of how they see and how to understand and become one with them. He saw it. He saw it, now, what the older man spoke of. The fish slipped through the hermit's grip and splashed rather down stream. He wanted to sigh in disbelief at that before him. The execution was off but the thinking was correct.
He knew how to defeat her.
He bid his rescuer and much needed councilor goodbye.
Fuu's childish antics were sweet welcoming and he was thankful for how it made it seemed as if he'd never been gone. He knew he looked bad but a ghost? That was going too far. He was hard pressed not to smack her with the sack of fish in hand. But her chastisement and forceful 'lay down now or else' ministrations made up for it. He was tired and truly required the rest. He was aware of his apparent frailty through Fuu's voice, actions, and gentle yet hesitant touch.
Mugen called him on the entire thing. So he had seen through it after all. Even if that was a recent revelation, it brought him some comfort and he allowed his features to relax, lips quirking. He inquired after the woman. Mugen had been hurt severely, as well. He revealed that she had most likely been instructed to target them, although he knew not the reason why.
What was that about the boy's life? Was that child more than a fabrication? Possibly. Fuu could have hit it right one with her speculation. They talked on it, discussed the motives, although neither could think of anything illicit enough to warrant such a skilled assassin.
Mugen must have thought him as ignorant as him or far more injured than he was to not have detected his attempted sneaking out. He departed his acquired wisdom to him. Mugen was as confused as ever. That man was not meant to ever experience the enlightenment of philosophy.
Nevertheless, he would leave it to him.
From episode 21.