Bittersweet Lust
Chapter 3: Letch
By: Death
Disclaimer: See First Chapter.
Reviews = Crack for Writers.
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The cosmic scent twined with her senses, airy, light, golden. Sun-colored petals fluttered behind her eyelids, dancing around blossoms of garnet.
The meadow swayed in a rush of brilliance, green leaves shimmering in hazy welcome. Fuu reached out and touched the closest flower, caressing the cool petals with gentle fingers. The wind brushed through her hair and she sighed, feeling down along the flower's thick stem. Her fingertips buzzed; the scent drove her mad, enticed her to stay wrapped in it forever. But something else, something within her soul, urged her to leave. To run.
It beckoned, calling her name. But, her fingers wouldn't budge. Her eyes wouldn't stray.
And the insisting grew, thundering white noise in her ears, drowning out the crackle of shivering leaves. Her fingers tightened around the stalk. She wouldn't leave. She wouldn't. But the warning was persistent, and something amazingly hard and strong wrapped around her waist; it wrenched her back.
Fuu fought, holding tight to the flower. Snap! The stem broke and everything froze. Silence.
The force around her vanished, and her eyes fell to the sunflower clutched in her hand; beautiful and freshly killed.
Whoosh.
Her amber gaze snapped up, and she watched the meadow fall.
Flowers tumbled down upon flowers. Soil stirred and the air became dust. And each death signaled a shudder from the earth. Fuu's eyes burned with welling tears as she squeezed them shut, gripping her flower tightly against her chest.
The stem crackled beneath her fingers, and it began to leak life. Liquid dripped down along in the creases of her palm, trickled to the ground. Fuu shook...
"Fuu, darling, don't pick the flowers."
Her mother's voice punctured her mind and she sobbed, lifting her free hand to hide her eyes. And the whispering returned. Ashamed, Fuu turned to face it.
Someone called his name, waking him.
Mugen's eyes quickly fought to adjust to the darkness, and slowly the lot fazed into a shadowy mass of contours and silhouettes. Fuu was lying there, in the middle of it all, next to their dead fire. She squirmed on her thin mat, buried beneath her kimono and a few fraying sheets. Her hair, draping down over her forehead and against her shoulders, was wet with sweat and clinging to her pale skin. She cringed and rolled over onto her stomach, drawing one knee up by her torso and stuffing her arms deep beneath her cloth-made pillow.
"Mu..gen."
Stepping over to her, Mugen watched as the details of her face become clearer, more distinct. She was shivering, despite the flush of heat in her cheeks, and he bent down, balancing on the haunches of his feet. She whimpered, burring her face in her pillow.
"Please."
He leaned over, clasping loose fingers around her bicep, "Fuu?"
She groaned, rolling back over and slapping a hand at his face. He avoided it with ease, catching her wrist. Her teeth gritted and she breathed through them heavily, eyebrows furrowed in mock pain, then peeking in sorrow. Her back arched off the mat and she flung her free arm around his shoulders, her chest pressed up against him. Mugen swallowed, her skin hot against his as he hovered above her, the thin layers of her cotton-wrappings slightly irritating against his bare skin.
"They're all dying..."
She shook, burying her head in the crook of his neck and he surpressed a moan; the thin, thin layer of cloth seperating her bossom from him taunting evily. Strands of her hair caugt on his lips and her fingers clung at him, tarnishing little crescent-moons into his back with her nails. She half-mumbled, half-sobbed his name, her breath hot against his skin.
But all Mugen caught was that edge, that brokenhearted edge in her voice when she'd said his name. He immediately froze, gawking with wide-eyes and a slack tongue. He paled. That voice...
"Mugen, please!"
So familiar, that voice had sliced through the callous hush, disturbed otherwise by only the numbed echo of the blast and the dismal fret of wings.
"Mugen!"
There it was again, sharp and desperate as before, and this time, he knew who it belonged to.
Returning to her meant suffering, this he knew. To return meant pain, and blood, and anguish. It meant living for the day, and waiting to die all over again. ...Which meant returning to the candor life of a Ryukyuian pirate. Returning meant resisting these tall figures of sweet deliverance gathering around him, stiff and brilliant as gargoyles and just as silent. So silent. And yet, Buddha be damned if he didn't hear them calling his name.
The birds soared up, into his sight, black as death, and cawing...like crows. They settled about the men, closing their wings with ease, and waiting. Waiting, waiting, just as patient and hungry as the men.
"Mugen!"
Her voice broke his concentration and he could feel the bullet already, along with the hot sand that burned his skin. He tensed as he felt the wound stretch; fuck, would there would be pain. And probably enough blood and carnage to make them both sick. But it also meant... Fuu.
It meant having another chance...a chance to maybe feel the ocean mist around his ankles with her beside him.
"Mugen!" She was crying for him again, the heat of her huddled against his body in the scorching sand and smoky air; no one but Fuu had ever cried for him.
"Oh please..." It was that voice that made his decision. With a smirk, he flashed his own bird at the Crow Men and followed the sound of her voice...
"Fuu," Mugen spoke softly, shaking the memory and shuffling around. He slid his arms around her and sat clumsily, crossing his legs and carefully pulling her into his lap. Her naked legs brushed against his and he shifted uneasily, uncomfortable with the whole situation; non-sexual physical contact, besides fighting, made him uneasy. Frowning, he tried to shake her awake.
"Fuu."
She mumbled something unintelligible and he frowned, shaking her harder.
"...Mugen?"
He watched her eyes dance behind her lids as her sleep faded and he stopped, staring down at her.
"Fuu," he grunted, "Come on, wake your ass up."
There was a flutter of lashes and a pair of amber eyes gaped up at him, confused. Wind chilled her damp face and Fuu pressed her fingers to her cheeks, flushing a tepid pink, "What happened?"
Mugen smirked, moving her into position more comfortable for him, "Donno."
"Oh," Fuu, feeling the stickiness of skin on skin, allowed her gaze to drop and she gawked at their blatant states of dress; her blush deepened to a furious rouge. She quickly scrambled to her feet, grabbing a sheet on her way. She draped it around herself, clutching it closed at her chest. Her hair hung disheveled around her mortified face, her skin dark in the lack of light. Mugen grinned and stood, shrugging of the lingering whispers of her warm skin against his, and trotting off to his own sleeping area.
"Relax. You ain't got nothin' to look at anyway."
Fuu watched him leave with burning blood and fire in her eyes, her fingers clinging tighter to her sheet. She slowly laid back down on her mat and tangled herself back up in her blankets, facing the opposite way of her comrade.
The sun leaked through the trees, tickling the pale flesh of her cheeks with its warmth. Fuu slowly opened her eyes and sighed at the morning, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head. She glanced over to where Mugen had bedded for the night and was slightly surprised to find him gone.
'Maybe he's finally gone to get some food.' Fuu thought hopefully, climbing to her feet and wrapping her wrinkled kimono around her; she tied her obi loosely. Her skin practically itched for a bath, and since they weren't that far away from the river bank...
'Damn, this feels goooood.'
Mugen groaned deeply as he slid himself from the slanted boulder he sat on and into the water. Its cool flow soothed the taunt muscles in his legs and he grunted in approval, leaning against the large rock for support. His toes buried themselves in the river soil, rooting him in place just as the sun began to lift from behind the mountains. Its rays reflected off the waves and over his skin, enhancing the vast crevices of his scars.
Mugen closed his eyes and cradled his head in his hands, unconcerned about thegi, hakama shorts, geta, and sword that lay sprawled out in the open to his right. An eerie call echoed across the water, and the distance, a loon took flight; Mugen cracked an eye open. A trail of blood suddenly slithered down his right temple and he frowned, wading further out into the water and shoving his unruly head of hair under the swell. He scratched his fingers along his scalp and dirt, blood, and grime slithered into the water, catching and disapearing with the current.
Earlier, he had heard voices and caught a few straggling thieves down the road. He'd disposed of them easily, recieving no more than a nick to the head, and as repayment for the wound, he took their money; Mugen grunted, lifting his head from the river. Not that it was much, a few lousyryo. He wove his fingers through his dark hair, water-droplets falling down on him and slipping back into the flowage. The loon cried again, and a twig cracked to his left.
"Hn?" Mugen tilted his head back over his shoulder and gazed into the woods, his lips parted in curiosity. When nothing moved again, he shrugged and looked away, hiding a knowing grin.
Fuu scrambled behind a tree, one hand clapped over her heart as she fought to keep her breathing regulated. So, Mugen hadn't gone to get food after all.
He stood just a few feet behind her, waist deep in the river, and completely naked. Fuu closed her eyes, trying to banish the sight of him dripping wet, sunlight glimmering off the droplets as they rolled down his tanned skin...she grimaced, feeling a warm blush spread througout her body.
Still, the image brought back rather vivid, almost disturbing memories and Fuu suddenly recalled how he'd looked the first day she'd seen him...
The sun was a halo around his slim build as he pushed past the reed door and into the tea house. She watched him cross the floor, his swagger eased and so languidly arrogant that it practically screamed trouble.
Something sparked inside her at the thought, something thrilling and sharp and almost mind-blowing; her body was suddenly hot and cold at the same time.
His aura was crazed with brash anonymity, and Fuu instantly felt the smug allure and dangerous flare that roared beneath all that tussled hair and dark skin. And when he spoke in that rough, velvet voice as he placed his order, she knew there was something deep within this man, something more, something...
And as she explained their policy about paying customers and he looked up, her heart stalled. This man had the most intense eyes she'd ever seen. Rage, hatred, passion, and something almost primitive smoldered behind them and she shivered, certain he was a god...
Mugen hadn't changed much, but he was far from godly.
Fuu bit her lip and peeked back around the tree. Her eyes followed him as he dove under and resurfaced, shaking his head. Water sprayed in every direction and she watched his lips part, pearl teeth glinting in one of his infamous, wild smiles as the morning sun set his bronzed skin on fire. She whirled back around, blushing deeper before sneaking back towards camp; he hadn't changed much at all.
"Oi! Keep up, will ya? We're almost there."
Fuu kept her distance, hands clasped in front of her as she stared down at the road. The sun was setting behind them and she spared it a troubled glance. These feelings were strange, intense, and immensely awkward. Of all people... Fuu groaned and crossed her arms, desperately trying not to disturb Momo as he slept soundly on her shoulder. The sound of metal plated geta stalled and she glanced up, suddenly realizing how far back she'd fallen.
"Get up here," Mugen barked, gesturing with his hands. Fuu advanced in a quick trot and he turned, walking slowly until she eventually stepped in pace with him. The glow of paper lanterns met them faintly in the distance and Fuu sighed in delight, 'Finally.'
Updated! 1/29/2010!
