A/N: Okay, so I've realized something. A reviewer of last chapter pointed out to me that I seem to be losing the point of my story, and it's true. I am. I'm getting caught up in Mugen and Fuu, and I'm forgetting the entire point of why I wrote this. So, I thought on it, and I've been thinking.

We're all on notice. This story will last only a few more chapters. I'd intended to make it longer, to draw it out, but it seems I can't do that without losing a bit of the mystery, which I don't want to do. The entire premise of the story is the mystery.

So. Just so y'all know.

Chapter Eleven: Black-Eyed Susan

Twenty days walking so lonely and talking to myself and the rocks and sand

Got me to thinking 'bout going and drinking in a tavern with a clean-shaven man

Just when I thought all souls had been bought by the devil here long ago

There did I see when I knelt to my knee a little Texas flower grow

Black-eyed susan by the roadside blooming all yellow like sunshine, red like wine

Flower like you in a desert this cruel; my, my, you're a rare, rare find.

She poured herself some more saki, and settled deeper into the cushions on the floor. Across from her, the sun danced in the trees, causing oddly shaped shadows to linger there. Kiki was out with Lee, Mugen was off fishing, and Jin had yet to return. For the first time in a long time, Fuu was alone. She wasn't particularly pleased with the fact.

For almost two and a half years, she'd constantly been surrounded by people. She was at work, with people, or at home, with Kiyoko. Kiyoko who was in point of fact, closer to three than the two she'd told Mugen and Jin. When the trio had parted ways those long three years ago, Fuu had already been a month pregnant. It had taken the men a month to recover from their battles enough to actually walk away from her. She hadn't known then, or Fuu didn't think she'd have been able to let them leave.

As she sipped the alcohol, letting it inebriate her and cause her to lose her thoughts amidst painful memories, she acknowledged to a small part of herself, that for a long time, she hadn't let herself even think on what happened that day. The day Mugen had almost died. The day Jin had almost died. The day she had almost died; the day her quest ended with her father's death. She'd never looked at sunflowers the same.

Fuu leaned back and watched as the shadows danced on the ceilings, moving back and forth just like the sunflowers did in the wind. Memories are hard things, bringing back past shames and unforgivables. She imagined that that was why she'd put off the alone time for so long. She wanted to lose herself in her new life and forgive herself for the foolish things she'd done at that time so long ago.

She drank the first months of her pregnancy. She'd spent her days in bars, losing herself in drink, hoping against hope that somehow the drink would stop the abomination growing within her, that it would just disappear and she'd wake up to find it was all a dream. That she was still walking Japan with Mugen and Jin, still the child she'd once been.

It was no dream, and right around the time her belly had started to grow, Fuu had come to a realization. For the first time in her life, she was alone. Truly alone, but for that little life within her. For weeks, she'd cried, so unsure of what to do that she couldn't leave her father's house. His nurse and keeper stayed with her, caring for her when she refused to do it herself.

Eventually, even that passed. Fuu stayed in bed, her womb steadily growing and her sorrow as well, almost in proportion. On the day of a bad storm, one with wind and rain capable of wiping the island from memory, Fuu got up from bed and stepped into the maelstrom. She stood on that cliff and she begged for forgiveness from God. For her sins, for the baby, for the baby's father's sins. She was so tempted in that moment to throw herself from that cliff and end the memories that she actually took a step to that cliff.

She cried. She cried for so long and so hard that for months afterward she couldn't spare another. He found her there, the priest, fresh from a ship from England. He'd come to the island, looking for the rumors of Christians in hiding, and he saw her. He held her in that storm, listened to what she said, and he absolved her. In the wake of her worst nightmare, she found God again, and found a peace she hadn't known existed.

Even now, living in this small village, far from that island and the memories that haunted her when she was there, she could feel her Faith and it eased her mind. Her father had left her one thing, one thing to carry her through eternity, and that was his God. She'd never told anyone of her religious beliefs, but she taught Kiyoko them, and her daughter held a light within her that convinced Fuu she made the right decisions. Kiyoko would be clean of her mother and father's sins, because she'd been baptized as a child in the Christian faith. She was fresh for this world, and if Fuu had any say in it, she would never know the pain and the self-torture her mother had endured in her pregnancy.

Fuu stood and pulled a small box from it's hiding place atop a shelf, higher than anyone could truly use it, and the only thing on it was this small box. Setting down the container of saki, she opened it and stared at the necklace within. It was a crucifix, a gift from Father Pedro, the man who'd saved her life that day. He'd given it to her the day she left the island, seven months pregnant and unsure of where to go. She'd known only that she couldn't stay.

Under the necklace, several letters were concealed within, from her Priest. He'd been deported back to England within weeks of her leaving, and still sent her letters. In times like this, she looked to him for guidance. In a way, she supposed that he'd supplanted Mugen and Jin in her life. Without someone to guide her and protect her in a way, she'd become lost and self-destructive. With that someone, she could figure out what to do and how to go about doing it.

She wasn't the strong woman she portrayed to others. She was still only a girl. Eighteen and a mother, so young and still so unlearned. Fuu relied heavily on the aid of others, and she knew that she was lucky to have them. It could easily have been at any time that'd she'd been killed or sold. Instead, strangers had rallied around her, protected her, provided for her, and given her the chance to live a good life.

Fuu had always relied on the kindness of strangers, and the love of good friends. Her life was centered on Kiyoko, and her happiness and health. Concealing the box again far above her head, Fuu drank again from the container of saki. Did it matter that she herself wasn't happy? If her daughter was, she could convince herself that it was worth it, even if it meant she had to make her friends leave.

Fuu watched from the door as in the distance Lee and Kiki started up the path to the house from the village. She could remember many things when she was alone, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

She lay in the dust of the building, her wrists bruised, her face cut, and her head pounding. She could feel the aches and pains that pulsed in various places of her body, and she watched through mostly closed eyes as the man removed himself from atop her. She stared into the shadows and waited for him to leave. He didn't leave, just sat near that wall and watched her watch him. They didn't say anything for a long time. Fuu could feel any semblance of thought fade away as she lay there, a husk of the bright being she'd once been only hours ago. She felt like a fragile shell, and that one touch would destroy her. Why had she come to this island? Traveled so far with the two men, just to see another man? Men were scum, death, bane of the world. She hated them, with fire in her heart. If she had a knife she would kill them all. Bastards. For the first time in her life, Fuu knew hate. She'd known anger. Rage. Never this pure emotion. Never hate. She knew it now. If only it was directed at men alone. Yet, it wasn't. She felt it for everyone and everything, including herself. She blamed herself, because she hadn't listened, hadn't been able to stop him, and yet, more than anything, she blamed Mugen.

"Mommy!" The child shouted as she caught sight of her mother in the shadows. She started to run to her, but Lee picked her up and carried her over, recognizing the signs of a binge.

Lee, Fuu's best friend since that day she'd first appeared in his village, knew what was going on, because he'd been forced to clean up after it several times in the past three years. Women were fragile things, capable of breaking so easily. He had a respect for women, and for Fuu in particular. He knew the things she'd endured during her pregnancy and before it. He knew that every couple of months, if left alone for too long, the memories became too much and she sought alcohol to make them stop. It never worked, but old habits die hard.

He stopped a few feet from her, and studied her eyes. She was far gone into the bottle, and it would be hours before she got sober again. Lee set Kiki down and used a hand on her shoulder to keep her from running to Fuu. When this far gone, there was really no telling what Fuu would do. Inside that small woman, such rage and hate was hidden that it could rarely be seen. Lee had the scars to prove that it existed though, and when given fuel to use, it reared it's ugly head in many ways. Fuu's eyes were glazed over and he could tell that she was remembering things best left forgotten.

Kiyoko started to walk past her mother, her eyes pleading as she tried to understand why her mother wasn't answering her, and in her young mind she was lost, because she couldn't remember what made her mother so sad. Was it because her Uncle Jin was gone? Was it something she'd done?

Kiyoko stood beside her mother, and before Lee could stop her, reached for her mother's hand. "Mommy? Why are you sad?"

They stood frozen for seconds, as Fuu turned her hateful eyes to her child, and in that drunken state, she didn't see the daughter she loved more than life. She saw every man who loved her and left her and raped her over and over, leaving her emotions a turmoil and her mind broken. She pulled her hand from that small child, and threw it back, across the small face and sent her sailing across the room, a wordless scream torn from her mother. As Kiyoko stared in horror at the creature that was not her mother, Lee threw his massive arms around the screaming woman, holding her still, not knowing what she intended to do.

Lost in those memories, Fuu screamed and screamed, tears blinding her as she struggled against arms so tight that she couldn't move, but she could feel it, feel him, feel everything in her head. She screamed and struggled and Lee was sure that someone from the village would hear and come and there would be trouble. There was only so much he could keep quiet.

He pulled Fuu to the ground, holding her and rocking her as the screams quieted and the sobs stopped. She sat there, her eyes open but unseeing. She was still crying, tears leaving tracks on her face, but she wasn't there anymore. Her mind had left, leaving her body there to face the damage.

Kiyoko sat in the corner, watching the scene before her, holding her cheek but not crying. She stared, her large eyes so dark from that corner that Lee could hardly bear it. He lifted her damn-near-comatose mother into his arms and carried her into her bedroom, laying her on the bed and leaving her there to sleep off the stupor of saki. In the living room, he opened his arms to Kiki and she flew to him. She still didn't cry.

"What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything. Your mother does not mean it."

"What do you mean?" Kiki asked, her cheek already bruising and her eye puffing up slightly.

Lee smiled gently, running a large finger down that face. "I'll show you." Lee picked up a small decorative mask from the wall and carried Kiki into her mother's room, where Fuu still lay unmoving. Kiki tensed in his arms, burrowing deeper. Lee sat beside her mother, settling Kiki on his hip. "Your mommy is not your mommy, right now. She's someone else."

"Who is she?"

"She's someone your mommy tries to keep locked away, everyday. To protect you."

"Who?"

"A monster. Sometimes, your mommy can't keep her locked away and she gets out and she does mean things," Lee explained. He lay the mask on Fuu's face, and through the small eyeholes, Fuu looked at him, comprehending just a bit of what was going on.

"Why can't she just send the monster away?" Kiki asked, reaching over and cautiously touching the mask.

"Because the monster is a part of her."

"When will Mommy come back?"

Lee smiled bitterly. "Soon. For now, she has to fight the monster alone."

Kiki nodded sagely, and warily crawled onto the bed beside her mother. Sure that Lee couldn't hear, she whispered softly into the mask's ear. "I won't be bad no more, Mommy. Come back."

Lee fought his own tears, and knew that in the morning Fuu would be herself again. She always was. He remembered a few times, when Kiyoko was still a baby, coming to see Fuu and finding her curled in the corner while the baby cried across the room, a saki container empty beside her. He'd take Kiki, care for her, and when Fuu was herself again, bring her home. It'd been over a year since one of those times, and he'd thought she'd finally moved past it.

Kiki crawled back into Lee's arms and together they watched as Fuu cried in that bed, her sobs quiet. The day grew dark, and Fuu slipped into sleep, an uneasy sleep permeated with whimpers and small moans. Lee knew what she dreamed of, of lost islands and memories most painful. Kiki imagined that her mother was fighting a battle with some faceless beast, with many arms and legs; her Mommy would win though, because of course, her mother was the bravest and most powerful Mommy she knew. She would remember tonight though. For her entire life, she would remember and she would watch for the monster to appear again. Eventually, she might even have a monster of her own.

Eventually, Kiyoko slept, and Lee carried her into her room. He stayed that night, watching over the two girls, both of them damaged in their own ways. When Mugen returned, Lee said nothing, just watched as the man went into the guest room and slept. Lee wondered if the warrior realized that once again, this was all his fault.