Red Chrysanthemums

In which fate flicks its finger.

The man who prowled into her shop smelled of the sea. She was still as stone behind her counter protecting the finer embroidery. The uneasy sensation he inspired was difficult to place. It was as if she suddenly became acutely aware of her placement in the room. Something in his presence alerted an instinct she vaguely possessed, urging her to be still, quiet, and disappear. Almost as if sensing something the matter, her father plucked the curtain that covered the back room aside, and looked in.

The mans eyes flicked towards them, his geta thunking carelessly on the hardwood floor. He had an irritated look on his face. Defiant. Almost as if he blamed them for something. He seemed to fill the modest shop, though he wore no finery and did not possess a royal anything.

Her father, who was more used to dealing with rough sailors and seafaring thugs said genially "Greetings sir, how may we help you?"

"Yeah , I need better clothes. But I don't want 'em gay lookin', alright? Make it red." He slammed ryo down on the counter.

Her father bowed, while her eyes widened in surprise. She would have never even thought that he came into this store on purpose, let alone would deign to spend that amount on clothes. He obviously had no use for new clothes- he looked as if he had been wearing the same thing for ten years. She stole glances at his clothing and at his face when she dared. When he started to strip she turned bright red and squeezed her eyes shut, holding onto cloth as if she were holding onto modesty itself.

As she brought out clothes and shirts and different styles she examined the man, safely behind the paper screen, as he glared in the mirror at himself. She saw his tattoos, branding him as an outlaw- not by any law imposed by the government, but his choice. He wore them as a samurai would his daimyos flag. He was secure, arrogant even. She hadn't met anyone of his ilk before.

She crept beside him, bowing her head so that her face was hidden behind a heavy weave of silk and wool, red of course. She flicked her eyes surreptitiously to study him closely.

He obviously didn't care about his appearance, judging by his hair, unkempt and crusted with salt of the sea. Dirt embedded under his chipped nails. Rough skin, tanned from the sun into a nutty brown.

He muttered as he yanked cloth off of himself, "Why 'm I even doin' this." Then as he slipped the cloth on, almost the exact same cut as his threadbare shirt on the ground, she realized. She smiled. Beamed.

It was for a girl of course.

Maybe not for a declaration of love- he didn't seem the type- but this was for her, and he didn't know he was doing it.

As his expression changed to one of grudging acceptance of the new red cloth, she thought on something to say. She knew she had to choose her words carefully.

He glared at the new pants and tugged on the drawstring. They were not very far off from his original pants either, he said something about long pants being hard to deal with in a fight.

"She'll appreciate it…what you're doing."

He snapped his head to her, and fixed her with an expression of affront. His look was almost too much to bear but she held his gaze. It was not a look for polite company, but she was as stubborn as her late mother and held it.

He looked as if he wanted to brush her off, but it was as if he couldn't decide on the response. He turned away first, and she bowed and crept back behind the screen.

When he left, she was hopeful. Hopeful of what, she wasn't sure.

He held his Moms hand when he first saw the samurai. The samurai seemed to be waiting, utterly still under the tree as heavy rain drops beat a staccato rhythm on the wax umbrella above he and his mother.

He watched as the samurai watched the people watching him as the misty weather went on. On the day the fog lifted he was sent by himself on some errands, a big boy chore, but the day he ran to the shop he stopped and looked for the Samurai he wasn't by the tree.

Disappointed, he completed his chore, hopeful that one day he would return.

Another day, he had to do his chores in the rain. It had been a long while, but the Samurai was standing in the rain once more.

He risked being cuffed and changed course to stand by the Samurai. The Samurai turned to him and he felt safe and unnerved and scared and proud all at once. He was in awe of the glasses wet and fogged with rain, pale skin with hair black as coal, katana as big as he was. He spotted an eye, and a lightning bolt.

"Is there something you needed?"

The samurais voice was smooth, and he was reminded of the way the stream water felt under his hands at the creek.

"You're back."

The Samurai blinked once. His dark colors stained darker by the rain.

"Hold on- I'll be right back!"

The boy hold onto the joy at having a real live samurai in this town. He's probably on a mission, or waiting for a battle, or something. He runs to his house, ignoring his mother who asks if he wants the sweet potato, his favorite.

He imagines he's grabbing a katana as he grabs the umbrella. He carries it like one as he races in the dripping streets back to the Samurai. He knows that he's not like the other men who carry swords in the town. This one is like the one in the stories, he knows.

"Here! Have this!" He bows as he hands it to the Samurai.

"I cannot accept this."

"Sure you can!"

The Samurai remained silent.

The boy after a while bent down he looked up at the closed eyes of his favorite mystery.

"Can… you tell me a story? For payment I mean?"

The Samurai sighed. "Isn't someone missing you?"

The boy thought about his befuddled Mother at home with sweet potatoes. "Nope!"

The Samurais eyes narrowed as a shiver escaped his small body. "Meet me here when it is not raining and I will tell you a story."

It rained for two more days.

Then, he was told the story of the Sunflower Samurai, a brave damsel, an honorable pirate and a samurai with no lord. The samurai never referred to himself, but he knew that he was the samurai who had no lord. Day after day, he would run his errands and see if the Samurai was standing as if he were waiting.

One day he overheard a letter of notice being written out on the commons board-addressing a Ronin. He poked his head in the doorway. "Hey! I know the guy it's for! Give it here!"

He ran all over the city the letter close to his chest. For three more days, he carried it with him until it rained and the Samurai was standing with a strange look on his face.

"Hey! Master Samurai! I have a letter for you!"

He held the letter once more as a sword. He watched with gleeful eyes as he studied the Samurais face. "It's from her, huh. You should go! She's waiting for you!"

The Samurai tucked the letter, and returned the umbrella. The boy clutched it and watched the Samurai walk out of the rain.

"So, you're here."

"Keh- Of course she would ask you to come too. "

"I was invited, yes."

"Invited?"

"Yes. She went through a lot of trouble contacting us so that we may be invited to her wedding."

"Wedding- the fuck do you mean wedding!"

"You mean… you didn't know?"

"Know! Hell, how did you know?"

"I thought you learned how to read."

"I didn't even get no stinkin' paper to read! The asshole who told me just said some girl was asking me to come to this town by that date! I just figured she was being stupid or something- or kidnapped."

Jin smiled and unleashed a breath of laughter.

"What's so funny you bastard-"

"It is just like you, is all."

"You're still a little bitch."

"Little bitch, who even says that?"

"You look as you've done well for yourself."

"Yeah well- now I get paid to protect shit. They even put me in charge of a ship - cuz I killed the punks who tried to rob it."

"…Don't you have to get back, then? Ships have schedules."

"Nah- those losers can handle it bein' late this one time."

"How…"

"What!"

"Dutiful of you."

"…Where is this thing?"

"I would assume it's at the temple."

"Yeah."

"Have you met anyone you weren't able to kill?"

"No- 'sides you. And I'm still pretty comfortable with that. Don't know no urge or nothin' to off ya. You?"

"Nor I."

"Ft."

"This appears to be the temple entrance."

"Weddings are supposed to have people aren't they?"

That is when they saw the figure of a woman, her head bent down, white chrysanthemums in her brown hair. She looked defeated, utterly crushed by the world around her. Her arm was thrown over her head, her other hand trailing upon the dirt of the ground. She was propped up on a red pillar, sitting on the steps to the temple. The breeze ruffled her silk kimono, white with red embroidery of chrysanthemums, cherry blossoms and petals. The effect was the flowers appeared to drift in the springtime breeze.

The two men were still as they slowly began to accept who and what they were seeing.

As if sensing she was being examined, the woman jerked her head up, blinking. As she stared at the pirate and the ronin she was struck dumb and un moving. Then all at once she moved and leapt up running towards them, sorrow blown away and replaced by joy.

The two men would later think on the moment and recall that the sun seemed brighter and that anything else worrisome about the state of their being seemed trivial at best.

Fuu stopped about five feet away- as if she had realized that perhaps flinging her arms around both of them may not be something that they were quite receptive about. She clutched at her heart over her kimono, panting, sucking in great gulps of air, smiling. Tears had her eyes shining bright.

"You're here. You really did come. You came… I'm- I'm so happy!"

"Didn't look like you were too happy a second ago there girly."

"I was correct in assuming that there was something amiss."

Suddenly it was as she was tense once more, rigid and closed off. "It's… nothing. Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but can you guys… just walk with me to the next town? I just need to get out of this place, just go where the people don't know me and I don't know anyone else."

Mugen indignant and a bit perturbed "Now wait a just a goddamn minute - what happened to the wedding?"

Jin coolly stated. "It's clearly off."

Fuu's face was broken beneath her drooping hair.

Mugen, sounding uncomfortable and highly aggravated "Now is there some jerk you asked us all the way over here to kill? Is that it? 'Cuz I could do with a bit of violence right now." He stretched his hands out till his knuckles cracked.

"No! No… just give me a few minutes to get my things together. If I know you two- you are probably hungry. So, get some food on me while I tie up a few loose ends! Okay?"

She ran off before either of them could comment. Mugen looked at Jin, who flicked his eyes. A silent signal passed between them. Perhaps they were both relieved.

Mugen shouted "Get back here you flatchested bitch! We ain't done with you yet!"

Jin sprinted off after her and Mugen trailing a second behind.

Maybe I will continue. Thanks to my fren (who wants me to) and did the first read through. 3