Chapter 3:

Don't Ask Me About My Business, Fuu

One night, Mugen never came home. I awoke the next morning to find that I had a) managed to get a good night's sleep and b) the sitting room was empty. He still had some of his crap there, so it seemed doubtful that he took off. I felt a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was one aspect of my journey to Nagasaki that I did not miss at all. That awful, horrible sensation that feels like your insides are ripped out. I silently cursed him for making me have to feel that again, and reported for my shift at the teahouse.

"Where's your friend?"

"Don't know," I said as casually as I could.

"He ain't a flake, is he?" Gengi asked.

I shrugged. "I told you hiring him was a bad idea." That was a waste of an I told you so. No one should ever have to deliver an I told you so while feeling so miserable. But if Gengi suspected there was something more sinister at work than a hang over, he didn't let on. I was left to stew in my own juices.

The second they walked in, I knew it wasn't good. Gengi knew too. They just had an air about them. An air of not good. I scuttled behind the bar for protection, and the two of us instinctively drew up our posture as they approached us. We must always present a united front. "Anyone else work here?" they asked.

"Just the two of us," I answered firmly. I stepped on Gengi's foot lightly so he knew this was the best course of action to take. Deny, deny, deny.

"Yeah?" one of them asked. "Pretty rough neighborhood, you know."

"We manage."

"Hmm. Sure you couldn't use some hired muscle?"

Gengi sounded like he was about to have a heart attack behind me. I told you so. I fucking told you so. "We manage," I repeated, more pointedly.

In a split second's time there was a dagger at my throat. First there was no dagger, then boom. Dagger. It felt like someone had snipped a few panels from a manga sequence. I took a small, nervous breath in spite of myself. Some things never really get old. "No one came around here? Looking for work?"

"No."

The larger man's eyes narrowed. He knew I was lying. What was keeping me alive was that he didn't know much else about me. Well, that. And the tanto I kept inside my kimono. I had it placed squarely under his genitals. He hadn't noticed, since the bar counter was between his line of sight and his own junk. He noticed now, though. "Well," the man looked at me with something veering on respect. "I guess we got the wrong place."

"Then I'll ask that you leave my teashop."

The man regarded me for another moment, and motioned for his partner to go. As soon as they left, the entire population of the restaurant seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. In a couple of seconds, it was as if nothing at all unusual happened. I turned to see Gengi breathing in and out of a paper bag.

"What…the…hell…was…that?"

"That is what you get for not listening to me," I snapped. "Did I not tell you not to hire him?"

"Yes, you told me, all right? The world would be a better place if everyone just shut up and listened to Fuu, I know. Is that buddy of yours planning on coming back?"

"I have no idea."

"Cause he's fired. And really, Fuu. A young lady like you should be keeping better company."

I sighed and slumped against the counter in defeat. I know. I know, I know, I know. "I know," I said. And then I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

And with that, Gengi and I were made up.

It was four in the morning when he returned. He didn't make a sound. I would never have noticed him, if I weren't sitting by the window waiting. I don't think he was planning on waking me this time. I stared at him for a good long while, letting him bake in the red hot glow of my anger and worry. He could never really handle that, and sure enough, he turned away from my gaze. He was bleeding. "I'm fine," he grumbled before I could say anything.

He tried to make his way over to the table, but stumbled a bit. He left a red smear on the wooden surface in his wake, and I got that damned feeling again. If I had gone my whole life without feeling like I did in this moment, I would not have minded. "There were people looking for you," I told him.

"Yeah? And what did you tell them?"

"Nothing."

He seemed genuinely apologetic for the extenuating circumstance I was now in. "You can't stay here," he muttered.

"Yeah, I was beginning to think that's where this was all headed. And what about Gengi? Will they come after him, too?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I think they know you're my connection."

"Fantastic. God, Mugen," I slammed my fist down on the floor. He seemed almost startled by my outburst, as if he had forgotten what it was like to have me shrieking at him. He took in a sharp breath and propped his head up on his folded arms, his eyes resting on some particularly interesting knot in the table. He clearly didn't have much to say for himself. I noticed a dark spot spreading on his shirt and nearly lost it. I had almost forgotten these parts of the journey. Two years and happier times glossed over them. "Let me see," I said, my voice cracking in spite of it all.

He didn't quite cooperate but did not expressly argue. I had to physically lift up his shirt to investigate. Nothing too awful. A couple of bad gashes here and there. Looked like one of them could use some stitches. I went rummaging through my kitchen until I came up with some sake and some thread. "Bend over a bit," I instructed. "And no whining."

Mugen grumbled as the needle pierced his skin, but after a few moments of rigid protest, he relaxed his posture and let himself lean against me while I worked. "Fuu," he said, after a time.

"Hmm?" I said, holding the needle in my teeth.

"We have to go."

"We do, huh? The two of us?"

"Don't give me 'tude. I'm tryin' to help you, you dumb broad."

"And they say chivalry is dead."

"Bite me."

"Aaaand we're done here," I sighed, tying off the last stitch. I inched just enough over to the left that he fell backwards, his head landing in my lap. "You know…we gotta stop this," I said, peering down at him with a chastising expression. "Uprooting each others lives. It's not becoming."

He closed his eyes and for the briefest of moments, seemed content to lie still. "What lives?" he said, moment passed. He had a point. I gently scooted my legs out from under him.

"We leave in the morning?" I ask.

He nodded. And so, another journey began.