Chapter 2: Dead Man Walking

Jin slipped into the shadows as though he belonged there, and perhaps he did. The man ahead of him in the darkened path was staggering by now. He'd wasted the evening with whores and sake, as he did every night before going home to his wife. This was what he had been waiting for. Though his wounds had mostly healed in the past two months, his right arm was still not the same. His movement and strength had been greatly hindered, and he was not sure he could take on a trained samurai with only his left arm. This man would be the first only because he was decidedly the weakest. He had returned to the village after the night of the murder. His own stupidity would cost him.

Jin moved like a jungle cat as he leapt at his pray. The samurai didn't have time to move for his sword before Jin's blade sliced through his wrist. He screamed trying to stem the bleeding from the stump.

"Now," Jin said calmly as he laid the edge of his sword across the man's neck, "you are going to tell me what you know. Who sent you to find me and my family?"

"Oh, God! Fuck! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Jin sliced off his ear without batting an eye. "You will run out of body parts if you keep this up."

"I swear I don't know! I've done a lot of shit!"

"You mean to tell me that you don't remember ambushing me outside my home while the rest of your friends murdered my wife and daughter? That was not a smart answer." Shoving the blade to the hilt, he turned it inside the man's shoulder.

"I don't know who sent us," the man swore. "Hibiki was the one he talked to and I don't know where he went after the job! We were paid and then we split up! I think he went north!"

"Hm. That was a smart answer." Jin beheaded the bastard without regrets.

He left the corpse for the crows to find in the morning. The moon above him was full and bright. In the darkness, he resembled what he really was--a ghost. It had been nearly two months since he'd been a man. His pale skin was almost luminescent, and behind his glasses, his dark eyes glittered with pain. Jin had every intention of taking his revenge and then joining his wife and daughter. How they haunted him! Their spirits were never far from him. They came and went like the wind leaving only bittersweet memories behind. Tonight, it was Ayami who visited him.

Their garden had been in bloom in the spring. It was Jin's favorite place to meditate. Though he had all but given up fighting, it did not change who he really was. He kept his mind and body sharp. A smile tinged his lips, when he heard clumsy little footsteps coming toward him. Ayami knew better than to disturb him when he was meditating, but he secretly found her mischief amusing.

"Papa!" He opened his eyes when he heard the tears in her voice. Ayami stood there wiping her eyes. "I wanted to play with Momo, but she wouldn't wake up! Make her wake up, Papa!"

The samurai sighed and pulled his daughter to his lap. How did you explain death to a four year old? "Well, Ayami, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because all things die when it is their time, Ayami. Momo lived a very long time for a squirrel, and now was her time to go away," he explained softly.

She laid her little head against his shoulder. "Will I die someday, Papa?"

"We will all die someday, Ayami, but that will not be for a very long time."

The answer seemed good enough for Ayami, and she dried her tears. "I love you, Papa."

The memory faded, but Ayami's ghost was still there. Jin watched her standing in the moonlight. Her bright yellow kimono was slightly dirty from playing outside, and her hair was falling out of the braids that Fuu had put in. In her hand was the doll that Jin had given her on her fifth--and last--birthday. Her eyes were large and watchful. He wondered if she saw the blood that covered him. He hoped not. Ayami should never see this kind of thing.

"My little girl," he called to her.

The ghost smiled at him and faded away. Perhaps, he had gone mad. He had tried to follow the spirits at first when he was still bleeding and fevered. Now, he merely watched them. They reminded him that he would be with them soon. He remembered the dead more than he did the living.

He followed the path to a small stream, and began to clean the blood off of himself. He'd spend tonight in the forest before heading north. He would find this Hibiki, and with him he would find answers. Jin was on a mission just as he had once before. This time he would walk alone.

In the morning, Jin watched the sunrise. The colors of orange and pink heralding the first signs of day over the horizon gave him no pleasure. A lifetime ago, Jin had watched this phenomenon with a sense of hope. He saw the way the early morning light touched Fuu's soft skin as she stirred. Her lashes fluttered, and she brought a hand to her eyes. "UUUHHH, too early," she murmured.

Jin caressed her cheek. "Go back to sleep then."

"Get in here with me," she whined lifting the blankets. Her naked body was an invitation Jin wouldn't pass up.

He slid in and pulled her to him. "Somehow, I was never lazy before I met you."

"Yeah, and you were boring before you met me," Fuu reminded him with a laugh. "It took me a long time to get that giant stick out of your butt."

Jin chuckled. "Hm."

"Oh, don't start that again!" She let her hand drift down his body until she found what she was looking for. Her soft little hands elicited all sorts of other sounds from the samurai.

When he could take no more, he rolled over and parted her thighs with his knee. "You certainly are a trouble maker, and I'm afraid this time you'll have to face the consequences," he told her in his most serious voice.

Fuu's laughter echoed through the forest. The sun was now well in the sky, and it was time for Jin to leave. For an instant, he was walking beside her again as he had on the road to Nagasaki. Her specter disappeared into the trees, and Jin was left alone. North was all he had to go on, but he remembered a journey that had started with less.

In two days walk, he had made it to a bustling fishing village along the shore. No one spoke to him as he walked through the streets. Even the vendors seemed to keep their distance. There was something unnerving about the bespectacled samurai. It was the way he carried himself. Everything about him seemed to say that he was a killer. Young men with swords at their sides eyed him carefully. Even though they were still reckless in their youth, none of them moved to take him on.

Jin found a teahouse, and took a seat without a word. The serving girl stared nervously at him, but soon found her courage. "What can I get for you, sir?"

He set a few of the coins he had taken from the dead man on the table. "Dumplings and tea."

"Right away," she said before disappearing through the curtain. But it wasn't the same waitress who came back with a tray.

"Geeze, Jin, did you really have to pick the busiest day to come visit me?" Fuu complained even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

The samurai was too stunned to move or speak. He hadn't intended on finding Fuu in Edo. In fact, he hadn't intended on finding Fuu at all. After the trio had parted ways, Jin hadn't been all that sure it was wise to find Fuu again. He had been dangerously attached to the young girl for the latter portion of their trip. Fuu wasn't like Shino. She wasn't a mature, cool-headed woman. Her childlike innocence had been what drew Jin to her when he'd met her, but it had become all too threatening near the end. He had resigned himself never to see her again, but this was quite the surprise. "I'm merely passing through," he told her softly.

Fuu stretched confidently. "I knew you couldn't stay away anymore than that other bonehead could."

"You've seen Mugen?"

"Duh! He's kind of working for me right now, but that's a long story. So what have you been up to? It's been like forever almost since I saw you."

"Nearly three years," Jin amended. "I've been working as a body guard for most of the time."

"Sheesh, at least Mugen had better stories to tell. You got a place to stay while you're in town?" She asked with a smile.

Jin shook his head. "I'm not intending to stay long. The night maybe…"

"Well, you're staying with me." Fuu's smile faded a little. "Jin?"

"Hm?"

"I….I've missed you." Fuu's cheeks turned scarlet. "I mean I've been all alone with that jerk for almost two whole months!"

Jin said nothing to that. He'd never tell her how much he missed her too. At the time he'd almost convinced himself that he missed her only because he'd never had a true friend before. The fear he felt that day kept him from facing what he was really feeling. He'd wasted so much precious time.

Now staring at a plain-faced waitress, Jin fully admitted how much he missed her. With any luck, he would find this Hibiki and end this soon. He didn't plan on living longer than necessary. He was a dead man walking the earth only so that he could take his revenge.

Jin stayed in the teahouse for the better part of the afternoon. His aching limbs told him that the rain was coming soon, and he wasn't partial to traveling through a storm. The waitress filled his cup once more, and she seemed to be less frightened of him. "It's getting very dark out there. I hope you have a place to stay," she dared to say.

Shaking his head, the samurai watched the clouds rolling over the sky outside the window. "No."

The girl stared at her feet. "There is an inn in town. Shino-san runs it. Not many people come through here, and I'm sure she would have a room."

"Shino?" Jin asked thoughtfully.

"Do you know her?"

"Most likely not," he replied. "I thank you for telling about the inn." Jin left her an extra coin on the table, and set out to the inn.

The inn was set slightly apart from the rest of the buildings in town. By the time he made it there, the heavens had opened. From the distance, he could see the silhouette of a woman standing on the porch. She stood still as stone as he approached. When there were mere feet between them, she covered her mouth with her hand and began to weep. "Jin!"

"Hello, Shino."

Shino stepped back and lowered her head. "I thought that you had died. All this time, I had mourned you thinking that death was the only thing that would keep an honorable man like you from keeping your promise. Eleven years, Jin!"

"I never meant to hurt you," he told her lifelessly. For a time, Shino had been all that he desired—or at least what he had convinced himself he desired—but now he felt only a void staring at her.

She began to laugh. "Didn't you?" Suddenly, her hand flew across his cheek. Her laughter became shrieks of rage as she pounded her fists against his chest. Jin did nothing to stop her onslaught. Her final blow landed too close to barely healed wound on his arm, and he stepped back.

"I have nothing comforting to say to you, Shino," he told her honestly.

Shino pushed at the stray hair that fell into her eyes. "You've really changed."

Jin did not answer. He turned to go.

"Jin?"

He paused.

"You saved my life, and set me free. The least I can offer you is a room."

Jin nodded. "I thank you for you hospitality."