CHAPTER TWO

Jin was so shocked he stopped tickling Mugen. Mugen was too tired from laughing to even hit him. He lay on the ground panting.

"You're… you're afraid of clowns?" repeated Fuu.

"I'm… I'm terrified," said Mugen, still panting. "I know it's stupid, okay? Just shut up."

Fuu and Jin exchanged a look. Neither one was laughing.

"How can you be afraid of clowns?" asked Fuu finally. "You're not scared of anything, Mugen."

Mugen looked momentarily flattered. He slid out from under Jin and sat up, looking depressed. "Geez, I don't know. I know they're just people wearing weird clothes. And I always tell myself I won't freak out. But as soon as I see one…" He shrugged.

Jin scratched his head. "I love clowns…"

It was Mugen's turn to look surprised. "How can you love clowns? You have no sense of humor."

As usual, Jin looked affronted. "I can juggle."

"Well, whoopee for you," snapped Mugen sarcastically.

Fuu shook her head. "Aw, Mugen, clowns can't be that bad."

Mugen cast a nervous look around him. "No, they are. Seriously. I'm terrified. I'm begging you, okay? Let's avoid this place. I can't deal with this."

"You can't be afraid of clowns forever."

"Just watch me!" Mugen began strutting away. Jin and Fuu grabbed his arms.

"Now, look!" cried Fuu. "We've got to go through here, so you're going to have to learn to face your fear! Today's as good a day as any! And we'll be with you every step of the way." She patted Mugen's chest comfortingly.

Mugen didn't look very comforted. "You can't just shove a clown in my face, okay? It's not like that." His voice was higher than usual. "I can't deal with them. Please—"

"There are plenty of ways to rid you of your fears without shoving a clown in your face," said Jin gently. "Therapy, for example."

"Where are we going to find a therapist?" began Fuu. "We haven't got any money—"

Jin was already pulling a notebook and pencil from his kimono. "I also wanted to be a therapist," he explained. "But that didn't work out either." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, no! I'm not telling you anything!" cried Mugen.

"Hos…tile…" murmured Jin, already taking notes. "Para…noid…"

"Paranoia? I'm not paranoid! Why are you writing that I'm paranoid? Jin? Jin? What're you writing now? Is it bad?" cried Mugen anxiously.

"…clearly suffers severe anxiety…"

"Jin! Stop!" wailed Mugen.

Fuu yanked the pencil out of Jin's hand. Jin looked up at her; she crossed her arms and glared at him. "No offense, Jin, but… I'm not sure it's safe for you to treat Mugen."

"But I have credentials."

"You're a samurai, Jin. Not a therapist."

"And it's kinda hard to take you seriously when you're petting a balloon animal," added Mugen.

Jin hastily shoved the balloon behind his back. "Until we cure Mugen of his phobia (that's a medical term, by the way), we can't hope to pass through this town and continue to Nagasaki," he said gravely.

Fuu sighed. "I don't want to go through another… fiasco," she warned. Her fears were justified; the last time Jin had tried to "cure" Mugen, he had gotten Fuu kidnapped, had made Mugen put a live toad in his mouth, and had been attacked by a pregnant lemur.

"We won't," said Jin very soothingly. "You'll see. I'll talk with him an hour and he'll be cured."

"And if I'm not?" demanded Mugen.

"Then we can try something else. Don't worry!" he added hastily when he saw Fuu and Mugen start to open their mouths. "All my techniques are completely medically backed."

Fuu sighed. "Well, I guess we don't have a choice." She handed Jin his pencil back. He stuck the point in his mouth and then settled crossed-legged on the ground. Fuu quickly sat next to him.

"Mugen, please lie down," he said.

"This is dumb," grumbled Mugen, lying on his back and lacing his fingers over his chest. He crossed his feet and began tapping one of them in the air.

"So… tell me about your childhood."

"Hmm," muttered Mugen. "Well, I was born in Ryuukuu and grew up in the streets. I went from town to town, begging for money and teaching what I knew. One day I came to this place and convinced all the kids to kill their parents and begin a cult with me to worship He Who Walks in the Rows. Then we started making the blood sacrifices…"

Jin stared at him with wide eyes, squeezing his balloon animal, his notes abandoned. Fuu hugged her knees, looking unimpressed.

"That's not your childhood, Mugen. That's Stephen King's 'Children of the Corn.'"

Mugen smirked. Jin looked disgusted.

"Therapy doesn't work unless you take it seriously!" he snapped.

"I told you, I can't take it seriously as long as you have that dumb balloon animal."

"His name's Gordon and he's not dumb! He's a dog!" snapped Jin. He pressed his pencil onto the notebook so hard the point broke. He sighed and took out his wakizashi to begin sharpening it again, scrutinizing it over the top of his glasses. "So, Mugen…" he began in a calmer voice. "Let's skip your childhood and get right to your phobia. What don't you like about clowns?"

"I dunno," mumbled Mugen. "Everything. They're so… weird. They don't look right, you know? The colors are weird… the sizes are weird…"

"What is scarier, their clothes or their faces?"

"I dunno…"

"Well, think about it," said Jin soothingly, holding up his pencil and turning it to study the point. He blew off the shavings and resheathed his sword. "Picture a clown with a completely white face, except for dark eyeliner and a big red nose and more red around his lips, and a huge smile that shows all his teeth, and a bald head with tufts of rainbow hair, and a frilly polka-dot shirt…"

"Um, Jin?" asked Fuu.

"And big shoes and maybe a flower that squirts water or something…"

"Jin? You lost him around the red lips part," said Fuu, gesturing. Mugen had gone completely white.

"Oops."

"What kind of crappy medical school did you go to, anyways?" she demanded.

"Medical school?" repeated Jin incredulously. "I never went to medical school. I went to clown college and took a semester of psychology. They said it would help me understand humor better, only it didn't."

Fuu shook her head before shaking Mugen. He started.

"W…what?" he asked.

"Nothing. Never mind," said Fuu gently. She glared at Jin, who shrugged hopelessly.

"Maybe we should do some free association."

"What's that?" asked Fuu suspiciously.

"I'll say a word and Mugen just says whatever comes to mind first," said Jin. He added, "That's safe."

"Okay…" said Fuu slowly. "But I don't see how that'll help."

"Oh… it will," said Jin mysteriously. He tapped his pencil on his paper and said, "Okay, Mugen. Nature."

"Nature?" repeated Mugen.

"Patience."

"Patience?"

Jin sighed. "You're supposed to say a different word."

"Think up some better words."

"Water."

"Gold."

Jin cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything except for the next word. "Discipline."

"Boring."

"Domination."

"Are you coming onto me?"

"No, it's just a word."

Mugen scooted slightly away from Jin. Jin looked disgusted. "Just associate already!"

"No, this is stupid! You might as well be showing me stupid ink blot pictures."

"We can do that!" began Jin eagerly.

"NO!" yelled Mugen and Fuu.

Jin sighed. He rose and began pacing. "Let's talk about your mother."

"Didn't know her," sad Mugen dismissively.

"You never knew your mother," repeated Jin sadly, shaking his head. "How does that make you feel?"

Mugen thought for a moment. "Hungry."

"Hungry? Hungry for her love and acceptance?"

"Uh, no. Hungry for some dumplings or something."

"Do you think maybe you use food as a substitute for human companionship?"

Mugen scratched his head. "This conversation is pissing me off."

"Uh-huh. And how does that make you feel?"

"I just told you," growled Mugen with barely contained anger. "It's pissing me off!"

"Let's change subjects," suggested Fuu.

"Why don't we talk about the first time you saw a clown? Maybe there's something there," said Jin.

"Sure. That's easy." Mugen stretched luxuriously. "I guess I was seven or eight, and I was pickpocketing people as they walked into this whorehouse—"

Fuu snorted.

"Well, c'mon!" cried Mugen, sitting up. "If they're going into a whorehouse, they definitely have money to spare, right? …right?"

"Continue," commanded Jin.

"So things were pretty dead and I was bored, and I saw this guy walking past. So I start tailing him, and right as I put my hand in his pants—"

Jin and Fuu both snorted.

"What?"

"Nothing," said Jin, face twitching as he tried not to smile.

"—he turned around and his face…" Mugen trailed off, looking uncomfortable. He picked at a loose thread dangling from the sleeve of his red coat.

"Ah-ha!" exclaimed Jin triumphantly. "Clearly, you're scared of clowns because they represent your inner guilt at being a petty criminal. You'll stop being scared when you stop ripping people off and being such a horrible person. Case solved!"

Mugen looked infuriated. "I'm not guilty of anything!" he snapped. "That's stupid! You're stupid! This whole thing is stupid!"

"You're the one who's scared of clowns," sneered Jin.

Mugen jumped to his feet and yanked out his sword. "If you say one more word I'll pop your damn balloon animal!"

"You wouldn't dare touch Gordon," hissed Jin.

"Uhh, guys?" Fuu jumped between them. Both were tensed, crouched, and ready for battle. "Guys, is it really worth killing each other over a balloon? Come on… we've got to cure Mugen so we can get through this town. And Jin, I don't think this therapy stuff is working."

"He's not cooperating," complained Jin.

"Did you expect him to?"

Jin's shoulders sagged. "I suppose not." He sheathed his sword and pondered for a moment. Mugen watched him defiantly, as if challenging him to think up a better approach.

"Okay," he said finally. "Assuming Mugen's fears have a deep, subconscious meaning, the only way to tackle them is using a deep, subconscious approach."

"Such as…?" asked Fuu cynically.

"Hypnotherapy!" said Jin, yanking a gold pocket watch from his kimono.

"Oh, no…" groaned Fuu.

"Oh, no!" cried Mugen. "Don't tell me you used to be a hypnotist too."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mugen," said Jin with a roll of his eyes. "I was never anything more than a clown-therapist-carpenter-plumber-midwife-farmer-silk winder-truck driver-librarian-X-ray technician-samurai."

"Truck driver?" repeated Fuu. "But Jin, this is feudal Japan. There aren't any—"

"Silence! I need absolute silence in order to hypnotize Mugen!" snapped Jin, glowering at Fuu.

"Well, okay. I don't believe in this stuff anyway," muttered Mugen, settling onto the ground and grasping his knees.

"This ought to be good…" muttered Fuu, watching as Jin took a moment to consult with Gordon.

(Author's Note: Yeah, it's a very short chapter, possibly the shortest I've ever written. I might add more later but oh well... I'd rather work on the next chapter, bwa-ha-ha-ha. If anyone has suggestions about what would be the funniest and most horrible thing to do to Mugen next, I'll gladly take them; I'm already garnering some wicked possibilities.)