Chapter 12

Sitting on the Dock of the Bay

When you're young, and by that I mean, when you don't know much yet, the world is huge. I lived in a tiny cottage with my mom, and it seemed to be about the smallest place in the universe. I wondered about this big world that took my father, and what it held for me. I thought if I found him, then some grander plan would be revealed. That I would know my Reason, and that it couldn't possibly have been inside that cottage. We barely fit there ourselves, and whatever my plan, I thought it would be big.

But then I found my father, and he was just a frail and lonely man, living in exile for taking his own shot at the Big Picture. He was tiny. And then that cottage, and my mom, didn't seem so small.

Jin grew up in a dojo, but to him it seemed like a fortress. And it housed all sorts of ideals, and values, and he was their mightiest guard. Until the one day he found himself, small and afraid, covered in his masters blood. And it was just a room.

Mugen lived on an island, but he always had to see for miles. Always looking for the bigger score, the longer con. Always keeping two steps ahead of your friends so you can pin point the exact moment they become your enemies.

And somehow, as we all negotiated the size and scope of our private worlds, they all converged in the very same spot on a beach. Where three strangers were shocked to discover they didn't really want to kill each other at all.

The world became a very small place indeed. Small enough that we knew we could go our separate ways and find each other again. Small enough that we knew when we needed each other, we would be there. Just like that.

Maybe there are bigger Reasons for us out there. Maybe there will be a revolution someday, and maybe one of us will lead it. But while we're all out there wandering, there's one reason you have to figure out first. And that's the reason to come home.

Mugen found his reason that day on the beach. I think he didn't want to rob the others of finding theirs. And I was proud of him.

I was proud of all of us. It was the first time our little family was tested since we realized that's what we were, and we came through. We'll come through again, some day. It's a small world, after all.

We didn't say a word to each other as we finished the last leg of our journey. Not even a grunt or an insult as we ducked and darted behind crates and row boats and piers. Not even when a nail snagged the hem of my kimono as I clumsily hoisted myself onto the fishing boat, nearly exposing my buttocks to the open sea.

He didn't speak until he had one leg inside his designated basket. He scrunched his face up and said, "Ew. It's wet."

And then I kissed him.

I kissed him because I couldn't say what I was thinking on the way over here, and I kissed him because he sort of knew it anyway. I kissed him like it was the first time and the last time. Like we were lovers and like we were friends. Like he was a white knight and a frog prince. I kissed him because this was goodbye, for awhile, and both of us sucked at goodbyes.

And when it was over, it was over. He leaned back for a moment, sort of taking me in, my crazy eyes, my flushed cheeks. He smiled, shook his head, and slapped the lid of his basket down. "Crazy broad," I heard him mutter to himself, and then I heard an entirely different sort of muttering. I quickly ducked down behind the other cargo.

"Did you hear something?" one of the fisherman asked.

"Nah, it's the wind," said another, and I recognized the man Jin and I took as collateral down by the pier. I could almost feel him winking at me through the baskets as he turned and left. Perhaps our little theater wasn't all for naught.

When I was certain no one was around, I knew it was time to go. Not having much else to say to the basket, I said a tiny prayer my mom used to say for the fisherman whenever we'd enjoy their spoils, and hopped over the side.

I swam slowly this time. There was no rush. We had been rushing since we hit the road, and I wanted to savor the stillness of the morning. I knew no one would notice me now, a tiny girl in a huge ocean. My stint as a part time terrorist was over. I was Fuu the Waitress, and I was just taking a dip.

Jin was waiting for me at the pier, just as before. He seemed mildly disheveled, but his expression was as calm and cool as ever. He helped me out of the water and handed me a dry robe. The second I put it on, I realized it was one of his. I sighed contently and snuggled into it, if I didn't quite dare snuggle into him.

"How did things end up?" I asked him, legs hanging over the pier. He still stood at attention, as if he was not ready to clock out just yet.

"I spoke to the shogunate."

"And?"

"I told them that I took care of Mugen, which is what they paid me to do. I told them that it would be in their best interest to drop any charges they were planning on slapping on those kids. And I told them that if I ever heard so much as Mugen's name whispered by anyone on the government dime, that they will have a new problem on their hands. They seemed agreeable. They should be. It's a win/win, really."

I whistled softly. "Wow. You really told them. I think that's the most I've heard you tell anyone at one time."

"Hmmm," he shrugged. "I was feeling frisky."

I giggled, and for whatever reason, my laugh seemed to be his five o'clock whistle. He sat down next to me, Jin the Fisherman again. We watched the ship depart as it carried our friend to parts unknown. No longer a terrorist himself, but merely a basket of tacky pottery. We watched until it was nothing but a black speck disappearing over the horizon, and then we watched the empty space where there was once a speck, and then finally, we watched the sun go down.

"So..." said Jin after a time, his legs dangling next to mine. "Have you ever considered fishing?"

I smiled. Sure. Why the hell not?