The adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins began to fade and left a trembling, shaking mess behind. Her knees felt like water and she had to lean against the frame of the door as the old man gushed before her. The words didn't sink in, but she could tell by the tone that he was happy to see her. The Wazakashi sword that she had drawn from Jin's broken Daisho dropped to the floor from her nerveless fingers.
The old man came barely up to her shoulders, and he tried to hug her in his happiness to find her alive. The pressure against her ribs caused her to cry out and the old man began apologizing as he looked around to take in the situation. He caught sight of the two bandaged men behind the daughter of his great master and wondered what in the world had happened that she was guarding them. He slipped into his role as caretaker and ushered her back into the cool room to inspect everyone's injuries.
As she was leaning heavily against the back wall of the shed, her mind wandered to this kindly old man. She whispered, "I'm sorry, I never caught your name. You were taking care of my father?" The old man's voice was high pitched and reedy as he bowed to her and introduced himself. "My apologies. I am Kato Shiki. I was honored to serve your father for the last twenty years." He raised slightly to look at the rough condition of the girl before him, and then at the two men lying on the floor. "If you would allow me, I can go and collect supplies to aid you and your companions. You should be safe here since no outsiders are allowed to travel in this direction. The townspeople were loyal to your father and will alert us if anyone comes from the mainland."
Fuu simply nodded her head in assent and watched the little man shuffle out the door back into the sunshine. With no real energy to remain upright, she let her tired and aching body slide down the wall until her rump hit the floor. A sigh escaped her as her legs slid out until they were sprawled out between her sleeping friends. There was no way she could move another muscle unless something life-threatening occurred. She made one more check that the guys were breathing before her heavy eyelids closed out the harsh world and she knew nothing.
The darkness of her mind was not peaceful and quiet. Scenes from the horrible day replayed in her mind in a jumbled fashion. Jin's hair billowing behind his staggering figure. Mugen's hair water slicked to his head. The assassin's blade slicing through her father's body. The awful eye patch man who hurt her. Colors and memories swirled uncomfortably through her mind's eye.
She had no way of knowing how long it had been before she felt a hand gently on her shoulder, waking her from this awful place. The old man was kneeling before her with an armload of bandages and a jar of salve. His squeaky, high pitched voice whined, "Lady Fuu, if you would permit me, I would like to dress your wounds. I have a great deal of experience treating battle wounds since I was the retainer of such a great Samurai." His kind old eyes pleaded for her cooperation.
It took her a minute to adjust and realize what he was saying. She was slightly shocked to think of this old man, with wrinkly, old-man hands touching her skin. It was indecent. Still, how well could she wrap her own ribs when every little movement hurt? Not to mention any cuts and scrapes that might need cleaning and covering. She looked the old man over wondering if he was a perverted old man, or if he could be trusted. So far as she could tell, he had not turned them in to any authorities. Of course, she wasn't sure if that was because he did not want to, or if there just were no authorities to be found on this little island.
She had to give this Kato Shiki credit for the fact that he had apparently been taking care of her father in secret. It seemed like the entire village had been protecting Kasumi Seizou's whereabouts when she had been frantically asking where he could be found. Had that only been yesterday morning? It seemed like a lifetime ago. Of course, it had been a lifetime ago, her father's lifetime, which had been ended.
The little old man cleared his throat to get her attention and asked, "Miss?" She finally just nodded her head. She truthfully didn't care much for propriety at this moment. She could barely sit up on her own and if she wasn't careful, the darkness that hovered around the edges of her vision would reclaim her.
The old man wisely did not attempt to move towards her, he only motioned for her to untie the knot of her obi. She felt like a little child whose mother was getting her ready for a bath. As her fingers fumbled with the bow, she quietly asked, "Is there anywhere I could bathe before you bind my wounds. I feel gritty." A bath had been the one luxury that she had missed the most in their travels. She could live with or without the soft bed, and even though she loved to eat when she got a chance, she had gotten used to the hollow feeling in her middle. But to be dirty from walking annoyed her more than even Mugen's grumblings about her lack of womanly proportions.
The old man smiled a grin that caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle up and nodded his head. "I think that could be arranged. Give me a moment." Then he placed the healing supplies on a clean towel and exited the shed. Her mind drifted as she watched her bodyguards breathe repeatedly, "Where in the world is he going to get a bath out here?" It would probably be a good idea to bathe the guys. They had sweated heavily since she had cleaned them by the ocean. Pain will do that to a body.
As she waited to see what would happen next she tried to make a plan of what to do during their recovery. First, she needed to know if there were anymore deranged killers or assassins on the island, and see if the ferryman would notify her if anyone new came across.
How had the assassin known where to find them? This was the 3rd assassin since she had teamed up with the guys. The fourth, if you counted the one that came for her right after her Mother's death. Fuu had thought for sure that no one knew who she was when all this started. She had spent a year in hiding, working at the old couple's tea house. She had even given them only her nickname of Fuu instead of her real given name. But, the first assassin had not been after her, or sent by the Shogun. It had been that crazy guy that Mugen had injured in the tea house fire. The Governor's son's henchman had hired that queer old assassin to distract Jin. Had the Governor sent a message to the Shogun about the two samurai that had killed his son, and were to be executed? She really didn't think that crooked official had close ties to the Government. But, possibly, after the fact, they had figured out who she was after her aiding in their escape.
Boy, the escape had been exciting. The guys always acted like she was a brainless idiot, but she got them out, didn't she? And her plan worked even though she had no time to really formulate anything elaborate. Of course, the young men of the local gang that she ran with when she was younger valued her for her quick and unorthodox thinking.
The second assassin attempt had been Sara, the blind musician. It had hurt Fuu's soul that she had turned out to be the enemy. It had been wonderful traveling with the other woman. She helped Fuu put her thoughts and feelings about the quest and her companions into perspective. Both men were too important to her. Having to choose one to accompany Sara had nearly destroyed her. But, Fuu's kind heart couldn't turn away a perceived woman in distress and Sara's plight had played right into Fuu's own weakness. A parent wanting to return to their child against all odds. It was exactly what Fuu had dreamed of her own Father doing. Unfortunately, it had all been a lie to kill those protecting Fuu in hopes of stopping her from continuing on to Nagasaki to find her Father. Sara had almost taken out Jin, and had seriously wounded Mugen. Fuu had felt such a sense of betrayal when she realized that Sara was also an assassin, and it was Fuu's fault that the guys were injured. Sara had been the first that Fuu was aware of that had been sent to kill her bodyguards after her mother's death and Fuu went into hiding.
It seemed all the bad encounters occurred after their passage through the Hakone check point. Did they record hers, Mugen's and Jin's names in their log books? She rather doubted it since they didn't have legal passes, and were being held as prisoners. But still, there might have been some paperwork with their names or likenesses on it. Or maybe, it was their time spent in Edo with Jouji, the Dutchman. After all, that was her first encounter with a Christian. And it seemed that her Father's religion was what had him marked for death. Maybe Jouji was being watched closer than anyone thought?
Well, no matter how the Shogun knew where she was, it was certain, that when this assassin Kariya did not return to report, more would be dispatched to find them. They would have to get off the island as soon as possible. It wasn't a good idea to be trapped in a place where there was only one exit. It was too easy to be cornered. They needed to go someplace where they could blend into the background and be unnoticeable.
Fuu let out a breathy laugh at trying to picture Jin and Mugen as being unnoticeable. Jin was strikingly beautiful and skilled, and Mugen was scruffy with felon tattoos on his wrists and ankles. Hmmm. Without his glasses, Jin really didn't stand out as much as he had before. It didn't take long to realize Jin's glasses had only been for show. Fuu had begun to think that the glasses were a way for Jin to stand out so the avenging students from his dojo could find him easily and exact their revenge for his perceived wrong. He seemed to feel he needed punishment in some way for that unfortunate incident. She also thought that possibly, Jin used the glasses to draw out the ones behind his sensei's attempt to kill him. I mean, even that loud-mouthed, bag of wind, Nagamitsu, knew of Jin's reputation way back at the beginning of their journey. And his kimono with his family mon was destroyed beyond repair. Perhaps, she could make him look more like a regular wandering ronin?
Mugen would be a little tougher to disguise. She knew he was proud of the fear that his felon tattoos struck in the hearts of men, women and children. It was as much of his persona as Jin's glasses had been. There was no way Mugen would hide his tattoos. But, his clothing was also not likely to change. Sure, the red over shirt had been destroyed and used for bandages, but she had never seen him wearing traditional hakamas as most Japanese men wore. Mugen wore what was comfortable, and allowed him to move in his chaotic, energetic form of martial arts. The most she could hope for is that the addition of the three cuts on his cheek, officials would not think he was Mugen.
How would she hide? It would not be difficult to change clothes, hairstyles and adopt a new name. She did not have any striking feature that would distinguish her from any other young girl in Japan. Of all of them, she could blend into the background the easiest.
But, what about Jin's and Mugen's swords? Jin had said a sword was a warrior's soul. Now he no longer had his Daisho. He was left with only the Wazakashi, and a samurai could not survive with only the shorter blade. Did that mean Jin had lost his soul? Or sacrificed his soul? He had used his soul to save her, and lost his soul in his battle to beat Mugen. She still wasn't quite sure what the meaning had been behind that strange duel on the beach. She had her eyes closed, so had no clue what had happened to break both swords like that. But, come of think of it, she had never seen a sword break like that.
Not only was Jin without a sword, but Mugen's pride and joy was gone. Where Jin's swords might have been his soul, Mugen's sword was his life. He was definitely the embodiment of that adage that one lives and dies by the sword. It was how he defended himself, and procured money and food. He would die without a sword.
So, the second order of business, right after finding out if there were anymore assassins to worry about, was to find her guys new swords. She knew they would need them, and no longer even thought about them not waking up. If one of these two died, the other would probably die along with them just out of spite, or to see which could get to the afterlife faster.
The old man returned with a wagon containing a sloshing tub of steaming water. He stopped at the front door and pondered how he would move it into the shed. Finally, he simply slid it off the back of the wagon and dragged it just inside the door frame. She would not be able to close the door, but at least she would have privacy on three sides. That was better than bathing out in the open.
The basin was slightly larger than a wok, but she should be able to stand in it, and even sit in the shallow water with her legs folded up before her. She would wet herself, soap up, and then use the second pan to pour water down her body to rinse off. Then, when her body was clean, she would lean over the side to wash her hair which felt as if half the beach was trapped in her tresses.
"Lady Fuu, is there anything I can do for you while you are bathing?" Fuu looked again at the little old man as if she did not understand his words. She whispered, "Not look?" and the old man chuckled. "While you bathe, I will bring what supplies are available from your Father's home. When you are finished, I will see to your wounds." And with that, the old man ambled off with the wagon up the hill back to the scene of her Father's murder.
Fuu shuddered thinking about using anything that had been her Father's. She didn't want anything from him. All she had ever wanted was to have a Father growing up that would provide for her and her Mother, and protect them from the harsh life they had lived. But, Fuu had never known her Father was even still alive until she was fourteen years old. She was practically an adult. The little girl who longed for her Father was gone. Life had been hard on her and her Mother. Her life had been more like Shinsuke's, that boy who had stolen their money to provide medicine for his Mom.
Fuu stood up slowly, and began undressing as she moved towards the promise of cleanliness. Her thoughts of her Mother continued. She saw how sweet life had been until she was five, and her Father had left. Her Mother had been sweet and cultured. The perfect wife of a noble samurai. Her Father had doted on her and carried her on his broad shoulders. Their only crime had been to believe in Christianity. Because of this persecution, her father had left. But little Fuu didn't know that. All she knew was the man walked away from her one day and never returned. Fuu thought it was her fault. She had done something to drive him away. Had she not been obedient enough? Had she not studied her lessons hard enough? Had she been too noisy when her parents were entertaining guests?
But as with all broken families, Fuu's Mother had to struggle to provide for them. Fuu was left alone a great deal of time, and when her Mother was home, she was too tired to play much. As Fuu got older and times became tougher, Fuu's guilt over driving her Father away turned into anger. The little girl rebelled against all the rules that had stifled her, and turned into a tomboy and began running with a gang. Most of the boys in the gang were not even aware that she was a girl due to the masculine clothes she wore. As a girl around numerous and sometimes unsavory males, it was better to be considered one of the boys. She learned to swear, steal, plan heists, and gamble. She developed quite a skill at dice rolling, which finally earned her some living money to care for her Mother. Her Mother was horrified at what her daughter was doing to earn money, but by then she had fallen so far into depression that she became ill.
Fuu became desperate for her Mother to heal, and even went so far to please the woman as to allow her Mother to dress her in women's clothes, and try to teach her some manners. Her Mother laughed at the task but enjoyed playing dress up with her daughter. Fuu even found a "respectable" job working as a waitress; although, it paid nowhere near as much as rolling dice. Still, it was to make her Mother happy so Fuu worked hard to learn all she could, and develop grace and poise. As Mugen and Jin could attest, the lessons in grace and poise were wasted. She was as awkward as a newborn colt trying out its new legs.
It was during this "learning to be a lady" period that her Mother finally told her that her Father was not dead. It had been in a lucid moment in the middle of a fevered delirium that this little fact was revealed. And Fuu was angry at the man all over again. How could someone leave behind such a sweet and timid woman as her Mother and still call himself a man? Where was the honor in that? Where was the duty and loyalty that she had studied? Where was that prized Bushido code?
Her Mother must have suspected that death was near when she revealed that secret, because, she was dead two days later. The only thing Fuu had left of her Mothers was the little pink lacquer ware Tanto with it's strange skull charm, and the pink flowery kimono that her Mother had purchased to help Fuu in her lady training.
So, now that Kasumi Seizou was no longer among the living, Fuu really didn't want anything else from this man. He had not provided for her Mother and her during life. Why should he be allowed to provide for her after life?
Fuu stood in the wash basis, and scooped water up to allow it to cascade over her sore body. It didn't matter how small the tub was, she needed to sit down, or she was going to fall down. As she lowered herself into the tub, the cuts that came into contact with the hot water stung like fire. A gasp of pain escaped her as her womanly parts submerged into the water and alerted her to multiple injuries there. Tears flowed down her face as she tried not to remember the abuse she received at the hands of that crazy one eyed man with the chain and sickle before Mugen saved her.
She scrubbed long and hard with the rough cloth and plain soap before she deemed herself clean and stood up to rinse. She slid on her Yukata and proceeded to wash and rinse her hair. She looked at her bindings and her kimono and realized she would have to request additional water to wash their remaining clothes in. Her kimono was too precious to replace just yet.
She heard the kind, squeaky voice of the old retainer asking if she was decent. It was time to have her injuries addressed. To protect her modesty, what little was left of it, she carefully wrapped her kimono around her waist under her Yukata. That way, she could lift up the white yukata, and only expose the skin below her breasts and above her waist. This was the only area of visible injury. The cuts and bruises on her lower body were not in areas that could be bandaged effectively. Her bindings would have to take care of the problem.
The old retainer was very gentle but firm when binding her bruised ribs. He did not seem to think any were broken, but she didn't care what he said. She knew how they felt, and they felt broken to her. He applied a stinky salve to her bruises on her stomach and ribs, then proceeded to wind the bandages from below her breasts to her waist. Once she later dressed in her own under bindings, she would look like an invalid! Why even bother wearing clothes since she would already be covered in wrappings from neck to knees?
After he finished his inspection of her non-private parts for further injuries, he turned to carry out the dirty bath water. Fuu bowed from her sitting position against the back wall of the shed and said, "Thank you, Kato-san. You have been very kind to help me." The old man laughed with a wheeze as he tossed the water onto the grass beside the path. "Oh, no, Lady Fuu, you are the beloved daughter of my Lord Seizou. There is nothing that I wouldn't do to aid you and your companions." He leaned the tub against the outside of the hut to drip dry, and turned to look at the injured men on the floor. His first priority had been to see to his master's daughter, now he could see to her friends.
A quick inspection of the bodies on the floor showed that she had done a fairly good job at field dressing the massive wounds of her friends. A few truly needed to be stitched, but that could wait until he had more supplies to clean and redress the wounds. Only time and willpower would determine if these warriors would survive.
Through with inspecting wounds, the old retainer began carrying in miscellaneous items that he had salvaged from his master's house for Fuu's use. He had a few blankets, some cooking pots, some jars of rice, a small bin of vegetables and a flint stone. He would be forced to cook outdoors since the shed was just that, a shed. There was no fireplace or vent in the roof for a fire pit.
While the old man worked, Fuu crawled forward to fuss over Jin and Mugen. She carefully carded her fingers through Jin's luxurious black hair that was no longer bound in his leather tie. Her mind replayed the picture of Jin walking up behind the assassin with that hair blowing in the wind like a God. Paintings could never capture the beauty of that moment and the joy she felt in her heart that he had come to save her. She smoothed out the tangles and brushed the loose tendrils away from his sweaty brow. On impulse, she leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.
Then she reached over to Mugen. His wild hair was almost impossible to run her fingers through, but she kept at it until she could. His curls were adorable close up, and she separated out a hunk of hair and curled it around her finger in thought. Mugen had come to save her too. Stepping into that clearing in the dilapidated church wall and freeing her from the beating she was receiving. He did care, even though she had told the one-eyed man that he didn't. The scruffy pirate also received a chaste kiss on the forehead.
Tears spilled down Fuu's cheeks as she sat between her saviors/friends/brothers/bodyguards. They had grown to mean so much to her. They were the only family she had left. How had things turned out so wrong? She had left them behind to tour the island in hopes of saving them from their "final" fight. There was no doubt in her mind, that if the two swordsmen fought, with no promise to bind them from killing each other, then one or both would surely die. She couldn't stand that. That thought was all that had been on her mind for weeks. How to get them to not fight. She had tried everything, even trying to get them to talk and realize how much the three of them had in common. They could all be friends. She had been sure that having a common enemy and goal would bring the two warring samurai together as comrades, but she was wrong.
The night at the river, Jin had approached her as she was trying her best to find a solution to the final fight at the end of the quest. Somehow, Jin always seemed to know what she was thinking. It probably had to do with knowing human nature and strategy. I mean, come on, how many people can plan out their shougi moves without even looking at the board. Dear Jin had tried to make her think about what she was going to do after she had met her Father. I mean, how could she think past the fight. One of her friends was going to die. What did it matter if she was captured or went back to waiting tables.
But, Jin was the type, he probably had the next five years planned out, and that's why Mugen drove him so crazy. Mugen could throw a wrench in any well thought out plan. Jin had even offered something to do with the fight when they were talking at the river. If Jin had held back, or refused to fight, she knew Mugen would have killed him. Mugen himself admitted that he couldn't hold back when fighting.
She could never have imagined this conclusion to their journey. Both guys nearly dying, her Father dying, and assassins popping out of the woodwork. She had to think of some way out of this. What were they going to do for the future? How could they pursue their lives and not be hunted all the time?
First things first though. Before she figures out their future, she needs to get them healthy. She called to the retainer "Kato-san, we need to change these bandages. Can you find more fabric? Then after that, I need you to do something for me."
It was almost lunchtime when she and Kato had finished cleaning Jin's and Mugen's wounds, and Fuu had sewn up the worst injuries. She was getting really worried about the amount of blood both were losing. She was sure, that when they were healed, both guys were going to compete to determine who had the worse injuries; a gun shot wound or a sword straight through the gut. Either way, it was going to be a while before either man could swing a sword without hurting like crazy. She remembered the injuries inflicted by Sara and how it had taken weeks for both fighters to be able to spar without cursing from the pain. Though, Mugen was a lot louder about complaining. Jin seemed to just take it in stride and work out anyways. Both men looked very pale and she was a bit frightened when Mugen's lips looked a little blue, but there was nothing she could do about the blood loss, except to keep it small enough that their bodies could replenish.
Kato-san stood slowly, letting his old, achy joints straighten out. "Miss Fuu, you seem to also have experience with tending sword wounds. Have you been traveling with these men for very long? Your Father would be so sad to see you traveling with such as these." Fuu could hear the censure in the older man's voice stating clearly that he did not approve of a daughter of his master the great samurai cavorting through the countryside with a ronin and a criminal. Fuu rounded angrily on the little man and pointed a finger in his face, "Look, I chose these two to protect me on this journey. They didn't have to come. They have kept me alive when the Shogun's assassins were trying to stop me. These two men that you think are beneath me have risked their lives to rescue me, and I would do the same for them. They are practically family and I won't have you talking bad about them. They are honorable and kind, and they are my friends." She ran out of steam since the energy it took to fume had exhausted her, and the yelling was hard on her bruised ribs.
She looked at the bowing retainer who was apologizing profusely and she sighed. "Kato-san please forgive me. We have been through a lot and I've very worried for my friends." She hung her head for a moment then remembered the mission she wanted to send the old man on. "Oh, I need to know if you can get someone to help build some graves. We need to bury that assassin on the cliff with his swords as a marker, and I want you to make three more fake graves along side his. I want to use Jin's and Mugen's broken swords as grave markers so if any of the Shogun's men come they will think we are all dead. I don't know what we can use to mark my grave. The only possessions I have are my tanto and my kimono. I kinda need both of them. Maybe we could just make a wooden marker with my name on it? Hopefully, it will look like the assassin killed me and Mugen, then he and Jin killed each other. That should stop them from looking for us any farther." She slipped back against the back wall and got comfortable to watch over her friends. "The swords are on the beach just down the path from here. I left them when I hauled the guys up here. Somehow I need to find new swords for them…." And her voice drifted off into nothingness while she brought her hand up to rub her temples.
"Excuse me Lady Fuu, I can bring some tea to help with your headache and some soup for you and your friends before I get started on your grave." She looked up at the kindly old retainer and smiled. She didn't know how she was going to eat anything. The pounding her poor stomach took the day before had left her with a terrible ache in her middle. It felt like if she tried to eat anything, it would be making a reappearance quite quickly. But, she could try to feed the guys. None of them had eaten anything since the Castella cakes yesterday morning. The little man scurried out of the shed and disappeared in the direction of the little village. Fuu's eyes blurred and her lids became heavy, and it was only a few breaths later that she was asleep sitting against the wall, watching over her boys.