&&&&&&&
Fuu didn't know how long she had been asleep, but the shivers she felt due to the crisp night air had grown stronger, and finally awakened her. Or perhaps it was that sound coming from off in the distance that touched her subconscious mind, alerting her. Hearing strange noises while sleeping out in the open certainly has a way of keeping ones senses of survival quite keen. Thankfully, any beasts large enough to have preyed upon humans had long since departed the island of Nippon. She groaned slightly as she sat up, pulling her kimono even more tightly about herself to conserve what body warmth she could, then rubbed out the stiffness in her neck before craning it to listen more intently. She looked up at the moon and estimated that it must be at least a few hours past midnight.
There was that sound again. A night traveler, perhaps?
Or better yet…
She gasped at the thought as she got up on her hands and knees, perhaps a bit too quickly as she made herself slightly dizzy. Her heart picked up speed then as she hoped against hope that it could be one of those two, or perhaps both. But if that were the case, what would she say? How should she act? Nonchalant wouldn't work anymore. Her feelings wouldn't allow that, now. She had to let them know… what?
That she was confused, even though she knew she had found sharper, denser, deeper feelings for both men? And that she needed to spend more time with the two of them until her heart could decide which one it could least live without, even though the pain of losing the other would still be great? How would they take that? Fuu rolled her eyes as she considered how she would feel if a man asked her to do that. Jin would close his eyes and grunt his disappointment, trying his best not to convey his hurt feelings, while of course Mugen would piss and moan… and break stuff.
She recalled Sara's request that she choose one, and at that time it had been Mugen. It wasn't really that she thought he might force himself upon the blind shamisen player because he was hentai, because, well, he was, kind of, but that still wasn't it. No, although that was what she told herself then, in reality there was something inside that man that tugged at her, something in his vibrant, intense stare that whipped her soul into a froth, and she knew now that she needed to authenticate exactly what it was. Yet she had almost died from despair when she found out Jin had disappeared, after falling from the bridge, and that she had perhaps lost him forever. He was the silent, yet deadly Mako-shark that could devour her in an instant if she wasn't careful. Her feelings for him had equal depth… she thought.
'Oi.'
She sighed. She hadn't expected to fall as hard as she had; Kami-sama knew it was hard enough to deal with such feelings for one man, much less two. It was so odd, because for all the time she had spent searching for her father, the Sunflower Samurai, she had felt nothing like this for either of them. Or perhaps she had, but suppressed it because the many life-threatening situations they had all found themselves in had taken precedence. Imminent death has a way of pushing all that other stuff way into the background. It had been those circumstances, indeed, everything they had gone through, that had bound those two closer and closer to her, until they were inseparable.
Then why had they separated?
Why had she allowed them to leave her? She thought back, to that briefest of instants, when, through the pregnant silence that preceded their parting, each man waited in his own way for her to ask, to demand even, that he continue to travel with her. She had only to open her mouth and say the words, then. Even that tomcat, Mugen, would have purred his appreciation in that unique, dodgy manner of his. That precious, pristine moment had come and gone, however, her message to them quite clear.
It had truly been 'good-bye'.
What had they felt, then? Were they in fact crestfallen, even if they didn't show it to her, or to each other? Damn their macho aloofness; why couldn't they just express what they really felt? Why was it always up to her to try to pull it out of them? Although gifted swordsmen, they could be such babies, really.
"Jin no Baka! Mugen no Baka!"
She found she couldn't contain the exasperation.
"Baka! Baka! Baka! Baka!"
She actually started to become upset, and then that sound reminded her of this situation. Staying as low to the ground as she could, she then slowly parted the tall grass and peered through that opening. The sound continued to advance.
"Momo!"
She hissed as loudly as she dared, wanting to collect her friend just in case they had to make a run for it, but the squirrel didn't hear her, still high up in the tree he had climbed, determined to complete the mission she had assigned him.
&&&&&&&
"Arrigatou, sir. I hope your stay with us is much to your liking."
The old inn proprietor bowed to the tall, stoic ronin, who returned the gesture.
"Are you sure you wouldn't, you know, like more sake, perhaps? I could send Tomoe up with a few warmed bottles. She's quite attractive, wouldn't you agree?"
For a brief moment, Jin considered the old man's proposition. He'd been under quite a bit of stress, lately; that whole episode back at the island continued to dominate his thoughts. Most particularly he remembered that elite sword master, Kagetoki Kariya. Jin closed his eyes briefly and gave a short prayer for that one's departed soul, as well as to express deep appreciation for the stark lesson in life and death that one had given him, particularly, that an advantage of speed and power was sometimes not enough to defeat one's opponent in battle. The ultimate strike begins deep within the mind, and is so great that it transcends both of those skills, rendering them almost ineffective against its killing blow. Beyond that, the arrogance that comes with having that kind of power and speed can blind one to his opponent's true intentions.
He would go back one day to that one's gravesite and pay homage. Jin then considered an old saying.
'A man could serve as one's sensei for fifty years, or for but a brief moment. It matters not which, if the student takes to heart the lesson learned.'
He'd learned that saying a long time ago, and it now seemed quite appropriate. From those thoughts, as they continued, now irony emerged. Each sensei from whom he'd learned the greatest techniques he now employed were both dead, by his hand. A short exhalation was the only outward manifestation of what might have been considered a laugh, at himself.
"Eh? Sir? So what do you say?"
The old man was still there, standing in the doorway, like an insect that simply would not go away. Times were hard under the current regime of Tokugawa, who may have been a great warrior, but who exhibited rather poor skills as an administrator. People were struggling to survive in any manner they could. Jin wondered if Tomoe could be this man's own daughter; the resemblance was certainly there. Was this as bad as things had gotten? Healthy livestock had been a rarity for some time in this prefecture, so dinner had been basic soup and dumplings, although it had been quite flavorfully prepared. Tomoe had eyed him furtively yet incessantly as she served his meal, making certain he had gotten every message she could send his way. Never having seen a man with such subdued power, combined with such flowingly beautiful features, how could she help herself? Jin cleared his throat.
"No and yes, but thank you for the offer."
"Ahh, all right. Have a good night, then, sir."
The old man bowed and slid the door shut. Jin thought for a moment about going right to sleep, then decided to take a bath in the onsen just off to the left of his room. The waters were warm and soothing, yet he found that he had to meditate quite a bit longer than normal in order to disperse his excess jing energy. Tomoe had indeed been quite attractive, and the prospect of spending time with her had been tempting, but something else had been bugging him, spinning about in the recesses of his mind, darting out periodically when he was distracted with other thoughts, in order to remind him that it was still there. He couldn't put his finger on it, and soon the warm waters decided for him to cease his efforts at chasing after it.
After about half an hour, in the silence of his meditation, he heard a splashing sound, and looked up and to his right to find none other than Tomoe, entering the onsen with bathing cloths in one hand and bottles in the other. As Jin had surmised, the rest of her was as outstanding as her face as the water caused her short yukata to cling to her curves, the deeper she moved into it. She had bound her hair up, and put on makeup, which accentuated her beauty in the pale moonlight and flickering candle-flames. He called upon his training then as he had to check himself, to not gaze openly upon her with too great an intensity; she was that gorgeous.
She should have been the wife or at least concubine of a local lord, or even the intendant. How had she wound up in this place? She tried as best she could to remain calm in his presence, but she could not mask her agitation the closer she got to him. She was almost within arms-length when she stopped her advance, bowing graciously. The lights reflected off the shimmering softness of her hair.
"Sumi-masen, honorable guest. May I please wash your back? And provide you with some liquid refreshment, as a gift of the house?"
So, since the proprietor had failed in that round-about way of his, Tomoe was trying the more direct approach. As she spoke, her face flushed as she simultaneously tried, and tried not to, look him in the eye. Yes, Jin was the most simmeringly masculine, yet adoringly beautiful man she had ever seen in her lifetime. She had never met a man such as Jin, and she might die before meeting such a man again, so she threw custom, tradition, and propriety to the wind in order to… to…
Jin, watching her as she paused, knew that if she touched him as she intended, the innocent back-washing was going to quickly turn into something more, much more. He sighed as he considered that could easily lose himself in her, and stop this weird agitation he had been feeling, at least for now.
Shino.
Why did his heart still sing for her?
And, someone else?
As much as the man in him wanted this experience, he knew that he would not… not with Tomoe, not tonight. Tomoe set the bottles down in the warm water, then the cloths in order to warm them as well. She then, with hands shaking much too much, given her past training, reached for his glasses. It was time to put an end to this. In his gentlest voice, he spoke.
"Tomoe, Gomen-nesai..."
Tomoe tried to contain herself after his rejection, and he didn't hear her sobs until she had turned the corner of the pathway to the onsen, out of sight.
Later, Jin tried to get to sleep, but his dreams kept getting weirder and weirder, until now that crazy arms dealer and erstwhile religious savior, Francisco-de-Xavier III, dominated them. That one repeatedly pointed to a large wooden cross, his finger tapping the center, while he looked at Jin with those bulging eyes of his to see if he had gotten the message. Francisco huffed and tapped his foot in annoyance, but tried again and again anyway. Jin awakened in the middle of the night, trembling as he pondered upon the powerful symbolism. But what could it mean?
The center of the cross.
The center of the cross.
The crossroads?
All his thoughts then went back to that time, earlier in the day, when he had left his friends. Those thoughts brought back with them the feelings he had experienced. Irony and sadness emerged, at having finally found friends and then parting from them as abruptly as he had.
And then, Fuu…
She was very young, and Jin had grown quite fond of her, but he had decided that he would allow her the space she needed to grow into the woman he knew she could become. He had indeed left her with a heavy heart, cursing the powers that be who were responsible for allowing him to meet her, but under these circumstances, beyond which nothing could ever really develop.
Jin would not, however, ignore the premonition. He quickly gathered his belongings and left the inn, the imagery still so powerful that he ran most of the nine miles back, calling upon his earlier training in jeet-kun-do to extend his cardio-vascular system to its human limits. The crossroads. What did it mean? He would find out. The moon cast its light upon him, creating the flickering form of his swiftly-moving shadow.
&&&&&&&
"And where are we now..?"
Mugen had gotten about twelve miles due west from their point of departure, when he decided that he was hungry and thirsty. The scar from the shot he had sustained still sent him sharp pains when he twisted his torso in just the wrong way, and it also itched something fierce.
"Aaah…"
He grunted, putting that discomfort over there with all the others, out of his mind. Checking for any money he had on his person, he had come up with about 15 mon, just enough for either a meal, or a few bottles of warm brew, but not both.
"Well, I've been hungry before..."
Thirty minutes later, and knocking down his last shot of sake, he grunted in frustration as he turned the empty bottle upside down over his stuck-out tongue, trying to get the last drops. Damn it if the buzz wasn't wearing off already!
"#$&! Is that all there is!"
Breaking decorum, and the bottle in that tantrum he couldn't contain, he snatched out of the air the largest piece of the broken bottle that had bounced back to him. It looked… almost like… a girls profile?
"Sir, please! If you are not satisfied with our service in any way…"
The proprietor had rushed over to him, and was now babbling some such thing or other. Mugen heard the sounds, but they were far off, like some kind of faint echo. He continued to examine the piece of glass, turning it over in his hand.
'Naah, it couldn't be.'
He had been through the portal between life and death on more than one occasion, but oddly, he never really worshipped any deities, nor did he really care for portends or omens of any kind. Life simply happened to you until it didn't, as far as he was concerned, and all that other stuff was just a bunch of crap.
But this.
He turned it over in his hand once more. The contour of the face, the rooster hair, he couldn't have created a better likeness of her had he been the greatest porcelain master in Japan.
"But sir, you have to pay for that broken bottle! Sir!"
Mugen was by now moving as quickly as he could in the direction from whence he came, the cool night air clearing out the remaining wisps of inebriation from his system, and he never looked back, yelling over his shoulder.
"I'll pay for it later!"
He grasped the piece that he took with him between thumb and forefinger, massaging it unconsciously.
Fuu.
"Damn it all. That silly little… Why should I give a rat's ass? Why the hell is she doing this to me?"
His sinewy legs snapped like rubber bands as his shoes kicked up the road dust, visible by the moon's icy glare.
&&&&&&&
"Ichi-ni, ichi-ni, ichi-ni…"
Shaking her head once more to exorcise the last wisps of sleep from her brain, Fuu finally recognized the sound as that of men carrying a palanquin. They were coming from the direction of Edo.
Surrounding the carriers, she could just make out the figures of at least five or six other men carrying lanterns, ostensibly the guards, perhaps sent along by some headman or other. From about forty meters away, they looked like fireflies dancing about the night. Their display turned her thoughts briefly to Oniwakamaru, that tortured soul, and she became saddened. So much so that unconsciously, she grasped clumps of the soft earth as her heart felt for him once more, for his brief, wounded existence. He was so powerful that he could easily have killed her; indeed, he could have broken her body with his bare hands.
But beneath the grotesquely disfigured exterior, the soft, delicate center of his heart had reached out and found hers. It was so unfair; he never had a chance at a normal life. He was indeed a gentle giant deep down, who had been traumatized and victimized almost from his birth because of his deformity. Because she hadn't prejudged him, hadn't recoiled in horror when she first looked upon him, she had connected with that tender part of him, and he responded in kind. She had been one of the few in his life who had dared to communicate with him, yet not regard him as some kind of hideous miscreant. Perhaps he was at peace now.
The travel party was getting closer, so her memorial was cut short. Her curiosity got the better of her, as she now wondered who could be in the palanquin, traveling so late at night.
Suddenly, as it moved to within ten meters of her location, the palanquin seemed to shudder, throwing the carriers off balance. They tried to straighten up, but the shifting weight within moved the small coach out of their control once more, and it tipped over. Out of it spilled a girl, about Fuu's age, perhaps a year or two older. From the finery she wore, Fuu surmised that she was some great lord's relation, if not his daughter.
But wait! She was gagged at the mouth, and her hands were bound!
The guards quickly grasped the girl before she could stand and make a run for it, and she tried her hardest to make it difficult for them to lift her, squirming and kicking about.
"Kuso!"
The girl's foot had found one of the guard's soft, unprotected places, and he cursed out his pain. If there was one thing Fuu hated, it was the injustice of being taken against ones will. If there was anything she hated more, it was a woman being taken against her will. She had certainly had enough of that in this life. Before she could stop it, her indignant alter ego expressed itself quite loudly.
"Hey, you bakas! Leave her alone!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Fuu realized what she had done. Now standing, she was easy to spot, and the guard leader barked a command for a few of the men to capture her. She was frozen in that spot for a few seconds, and actually watched as they advanced upon her, spreading out for her capture, before she turned and ran as fast as she could.
"Momo!"
She yelled out his name as she passed under the tree. He saw her and glided down to clasp onto her shoulder. She wanted to move faster, but her legs could only move just so far. Damn, these kimonos. They simply weren't made with the idea of running for one's life.
&&&&&&&
Omake Theater:
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the new Nathan's Hot Dog eating champion, surpassing even the great 'Tsumani' Kobayashi himself…"
Drumroll.
"Having eaten a total of ninety-nine Nathan's Hot Dogs, I present to you… 'Fat Fuu'!"
A human beat-box, hired for the event, began.
"pff pff hunh, pff pff hunh,
wocka wocka wocka wocka...
aww, yeah!
The queen of the eats
has got 'em all beat,
so bow when ya see her
walkin' down the street.
The guys couldn't stop her,
super hot-dog chopper.
Give the girl her props
and the beat won't stop...
pff pff hunh, pff pff hunh
uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh wocka wocka..."
As Fuu then waddled up to the podium to bask in her gluttonous glory (and pick up her prize), Jin looked at Mugen.
"How many did you eat?"
"I stopped after fifteen, dude. I'm gonna get gas really bad, later. So, wherever we're sleeping tonight, make sure you're on the other side of the room, and don't' say I didn't warn ya. Anyway, how many did you scarf down?"
"I made it to nine, but then I looked over at Fuu, and she had already put on about fifty pounds. Watching her put on the next fifty took away my remaining appetite."
'Fat Fuu' stumbled slightly then, and almost took down both of the officials who had been escorting her up the podium steps. She must have weighed at least two-hundred and twenty pounds then. Mugen scratched his scraggly beard.
"Man, how in the hell does she do that?"
Jin looked about at their surroundings.
"Where in the world is 'Coney Island', anyway, and how did we get here?"
&&&&&&&
A/N: Gomen-nesai to you all. In the final episode (which I watched again after I wrote the first chapter), the crossroads is actually an area surrounded by fairly tall grass, hence the change in the description of Fuu's location. Momo actually climbed the only tree in the vicinity, which you couldn't see because (cough) it was behind the pan shot of the characters in that last scene before they separated. Writer's license, I suppose…
Next: Will the boys make it to her in time..?
To my wonderful reviewers, whose response to the first chapter made this chapter possible in so short a time. I love you all…
Arasam Samagorn: I love you for loving it! My first reviewer! Thanks.
Flames of My Heart: They are on their way, but stuff will happen to Fuu first (doesn't it always?), because, well, she's a Damsel in Distress, ne?
Anon: Thanks! I still don't know who she will ultimately wind up with; as this story unfolds itself, it will tell me.
midnight 1987: I have updated soon, by your request. As you can see...
Levabl3Pna1: Thank you.
Erin Elric: You have asked, and I have answered. Arrigatiou!
tolazytosignin: Can she have both? I think her head would spin completely off! Or maybe not. Hmm.
infinite'sgirl: Thank you. He's on his way...
trolly: Yay! You're my fave too!
silver angel love: Wow! An awesome review. Readers like you drive us to continue to improve, to put out better and better work. I'm introducing another female character whom I plan to befriend to Fuu (you saw her fighting and kicking at the end of this chapter), in case the muse tells me the pairing it wants, and it's a duo. Again, arrigatou-gozimasu.
silver starlight kitsune: No. She won't be left alone. Another Mugen fan. Hmmm.
nelduva: another fan of le ménage à trois? Just joking, but hey...
everyone else reading: Thanks!
Ja ne,
W.
