Opportunity and Motive chapter 2
by c2t2
Chapter summary: In vino veritas. Misunderstandings are cleared up, but not without a lot of drama. And sake. And profanity. I mean really, really bad language. This is your warning.
My deepest thanks to the reviewers, especially a ninny mouse. The general consensus was that Mugen came off as too much of a jerk and I needed a second part. It is to all of you that I dedicate this chapter. Enjoy!
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Fuu remained pressed against Mugen until he began to snore.
She slipped away, stood and dressed by the light of the moon. Then she took off after Jin.
It was too dark to see far, but she walked the direction he had gone and hoped that some instinct or a helpful kami would guide her step.
She found him, but only because he had not gone far.
"Jin!" she began to approach, but then paused in her steps. She was dirty, now, unworthy of his presence.
She deserved a cold shoulder, but the handsome samurai turned to her quite normally and said, "Fuu, are you okay?"
"…okay?" Fuu was lost. How was he still willing to speak to her?
"Did he force you?" Jin's voice was steady, but his hand menacingly gripped the hilt of his katana.
"Oh!" so that was why he didn't hate her... yet. He would in a moment, though, "No, no he didn't." Fuu drew a breath, "Jin, I'm so sorry!" her words rushed, hoping to get at least that much out before he walked away.
But Jin did not walk away, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Fuu." His hand slid from his katana, and he looked up to the stars.
"No, Jin, I do! I'm so sorry. I didn't know he was just using me to upset you. I thought he, that he…" Fuu's voice broke, but even now she still could not cry.
She thought he'd wanted her. Fuu was not so foolish as to expect love or devotion or promises, but she had thought he'd wanted her because he wanted her, not to use her as some pawn in the kind of complex scheming that up to this point he had never shown ANY aptitude or inclination for.
"I see." Jin ended his inspection of the night sky and stepped to stand in front of her, "A man like Mugen is unable to feel anything beyond the sensation of his flesh. His spirit is dead, if it ever existed at all. I'm sorry you got caught up in his selfishness."
"Oh, Jin. I'm so, so sorry!" Fuu felt like an echo in a canyon, repeating herself endlessly. No matter how many times she said it, it would never be enough.
They stood in silence for a time. Fuu didn't know what Jin was thinking. After a moment, she accidentally spoke aloud – "I wish it had been you."
Jin's breath hissed through his teeth, and suddenly Fuu felt like a liar, even though it hadn't been a lie. Not really, not completely.
"Why would you say that?" he sounded shocked, but she was too ashamed to look at him, to watch his expression as he spoke.
She let out a shuddering breath. "If I had gone to you, before this, would you have had me?"
Jin's slender, pale hand landed on her shoulder, causing Fuu to flinch. He did not speak.
"If I asked you now, would you kiss me?" Fuu barely recognized herself. She had turned from an innocent girl into a wanton whore in one evening.
Jin's hold on her shoulder tightened "No."
Fuu wanted to die, she would have run if the hand on her shoulder hadn't prevented her escape.
"No," Jin repeated. "Let me tell you why."
Fuu's spiraling despair slowed only enough to listen to the words that she was certain would end her.
"If I had you, now or ever, I would not be able to let you go."
Fuu was so surprised she forgot her shame and looked him in the face.
Jin's expression was sad.
He continued, "You deserve more than what I can give. More than either of us can give. You deserve safety, a man not always running from his past, not a vagrant or criminal. You deserve someone who can guarantee that you will eat every day, who can give you a home and family, not someone who wakes each morning prepared for this day to be his last."
Fuu's lips trembled, yet tears still did not fall. She waited, but it seemed that words as well as tears had abandoned her.
Then, at last, a question floated to the surface of her mind. "Jin…" she couldn't possibly expect him to say yes… but she could ask. "Will you stay? Will you travel with me until we find the sunflower samurai?"
A shadow of a smile graced Jin's handsome face "Yes, I will."
"Oh thank you!" Fuu launched herself into Jin and wrapped her arms around his waist. She hadn't known she was still capable of joy, but the emotion welling inside her could be nothing else, "Thank you so much!"
Jin's body stiffened uncomfortably, but he did not push her away.
o0o0o0o0o
Fuu was in such turmoil she was silent for most of the trip to the next town.
Jin stoically refused to react to Mugen's taunting. Fuu was pathetically grateful.
She tried not to give Jin pitiful puppy-dog eyes. At least not openly. Too often.
She had no idea how Mugen was looking at her, as she simply couldn't bring herself to look in his direction. The shame and pain were far too raw.
The uncharacteristic silence thundered so loud that Fuu was tempted to provoke Momo-san into squeaking incessantly, just to fill the air.
But if she started prodding the flying squirrel constantly, then Momo would leave her, too. And Fuu liked to think that if nothing else, this mess had taught her to resist temptation. At least the kind that would drive someone away.
In town, they found work easily enough, but ate their wages down until they didn't have quite enough left for lodging.
Finding no abandoned buildings or generous temples, it was back out to the woods, again.
After he built the fire, Jin cleared his throat and addressed Fuu, "My employer wishes to test me in a game of shogi. Will you be all right here?" he said, pointedly not-quite glancing in Mugen's direction.
In that moment, Fuu loved him. But she could not keep him here just for her own selfish comfort. "Good luck, and do your best!" she waved him off cheerfully.
Jin inclined his head gracefully, and walked off.
Fuu could feel tension building between her shoulders as Jin disappeared in the direction of the town. She nearly flinched when she heard Mugen let out a breath.
"Finally! I thought that jackass would never leave." Mugen muttered while moving toward Fuu. He was looking in the direction Jin had gone, so he didn't notice Fuu cowering until he reached for her and she whimpered.
He pulled his hand back as if burned. "What's wrong?" He looked aghast.
"Don't touch me!" was the only thing Fuu could think to say. "Don't ever touch me again!"
"Wha- huh? What?" he stammered, looking at her like she was the one who was crazy.
Fuu only turned her face further from him and pulled her kimono close, as if waiting for a blow.
"Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you?" He waited as if for an answer. "Fine," he growled after a few moments, "I might have enough coin for a cheap whore anyway!" he stormed off in the same direction as Jin, and vanished in moments. Not long after, the sound of his angry footsteps faded as well.
o0o0o0o0o
Weeks passed, and instead of things improving over time, Fuu sensed their group was going to fall apart before they even reached Nagasaki.
Mugen was getting twitchier and more distracted with each town they passed through. He'd disappear into the red light district, and each time reappear after shorter and shorter amounts of time, smelling of sake and looking even angrier than before. Also – and Fuu would have sworn this was impossible – his language was somehow getting even worse.
This was starting to affect Fuu and Jin as well. Jin began disappearing the nights Mugen went to the brothels, trying to avoid the inevitable fights Mugen would try to pick when he came back. Fuu didn't know how long this uncharacteristic maturity of his would last. Soon enough, Jin's temper would break and Fuu was afraid they would kill each other for real.
Even if she hadn't grown attached to them, it was illegal for a woman to travel without at least one man accompanying her. Normally she would be willing to take her chances, but getting arrested and jailed when she was this close to her goal would be unbearably cruel.
Today, less than two hours after he left, Fuu heard furious crashing footsteps heading toward their camp.
Some instinct warned her that this time felt different. As if he was heading straight for her.
She was right.
The former pirate stormed into the firelight and pointed at Fuu accusingly.
"You Fucking Bitch!" His face was contorted in fury and the scent of sake on his breath washed over her.
Fuu startled. "What?" she spat. She was grumpy too. They were all a little short, these days.
"What the fuck have you done to me!?"
"… what?" this time she was really confused.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what? What do you want?!"
"What do I want?" Mugen lowered his finger and his hand clenched into a fist at his side. He stepped toward her. "I WANT you to lift the curse you put on me. I WANT this bullshit to end. I WANT to fuck a whore with huge tits and not be thinking about something else. I WANT you to fucking die so you won't be in my head anymore!"
Fuu's back was pressed against a tree. She hadn't noticed she was backing up. "You want me… to die?"
All the anger and energy seemed to drain from Mugen, the lines of his body sagged. "No, Fuu, I just want you to look at me."
Surprised, Fuu's eyes focused on his face for the first time in what seemed like years.
He looked… rough.
Lines of stress were visible on every feature. Dark shadows stood out beneath bloodshot eyes. "I just want you to fucking look at me again."
Fuu blinked, feeling a little lost, scared, and hurt for no earthly reason.
There was exhaustion in Mugen's face, but no deception. "Whatever I did, I take it back. I wish I'd never touched you if you'd just look me in the eye again."
For a few long heartbeats, Fuu stared in silence. Then, "What do you mean, 'whatever you did'? You used me to hurt Jin and threw me away like nothing!"
"I… what?"
"You heard me!"
"…What the fuck! Where in the shit did you get a dumbass idea like that? I don't keep track of where that utter pisshead of a swordsman is or where he goes! And I threw you away? I remember something really fucking different."
"What? You hit your head and lost your memory or something? You used me!" Fuu shrieked in righteous fury.
"Horseshit! Did you forget who left, right after screwing, to chase some faggot prettyboy? Did you forget who rejected who the next time we were alone? Bitch, I haven't been able to enjoy another woman since!"
Wait, this was... Fuu was in the right here! She had the moral high ground! Mugen was the monster and she was the victim!
…Right?
"But I… You… I… What?"
He was the one in a drunken rage, but it was Fuu's head that was spinning.
"Are you stupid? What do I have to do? What do you want from me?" Mugen was advancing on her again, gesturing angrily, "I'll throw away my sword and become a goddamn fisherman. I'll prostrate myself and fucking grovel. I'll let Jin cut off my dick and shove it down my throat. Just tell me what you want and I'll do it."
Fuu felt sick. Pieces that she thought were glued into place were rearranging themselves in her mind. "Mugen," her voice was hesitant, "Mugen, tell me what you want. For real."
The former pirate had reached her. He sank to his knees in front of her, "Fine.
"Fine. I want to wake up with you in the mornings." He leaned his forehead against her obi, his hands settling on either side of her waist as suddenly Fuu could barely breathe. "I want you to have my children. I want to stand beside you as we grow old." Fuu felt a barrier inside her break, one that had stood since that night, and suddenly her cheeks were wet; hot tears streaming down her face to drip off her chin. Without thinking she buried her hands in Mugen's hair, his face still pressed against her stomach as he spoke. "I want to teach you the sword, so I'll never have to worry about you again. I want you to look at me, only me. Not that punkass ronin, or anyone else."
"Mugen," Fuu sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve. Ew. She'd forgotten how gross and messy it was to cry. "But… I thought you were just using me."
He sighed, and Fuu could feel the heat of his breath even through the layers of her kimono. "…I thought so, too." His voice was still muffled in her obi. Fuu was carding her fingers through his hair now. Reveling in the softness she'd nearly forgotten. "I even told myself that I was, but I think I've been lying for a long time."
"Mugen…" when the former pirate stood and looked at her, Fuu thought of something that made her heart sink.
He was drunk. Really drunk. Mugen didn't get drunk enough to seriously handicap him in a fight, but maybe enough for him to say things he would later deny. If the smell of his breath didn't give him away, the dullness in his eyes left no doubt.
He'd said he would put down his sword if she asked. That alone proved he was too drunk to think clearly. Mugen would never relinquish his sword. Not for her; not for anyone.
She decided.
"Mugen, if you tell me the same thing in the morning, I'll believe you."
The former pirate paused, seeming to struggle with what she was saying. Then he cursed. He spat. Then he sighed and seemed to calm down. "Fine. Sleep with me."
"Sleep with…?" he'd said something like that so casually!
"I mean sleep, you stupid bitch." This time Mugen's epithets sounded affectionate, lacking any of the bite of his previous insults. She even saw a hint of a smile in his eyes.
"But Jin…"
"That motherfucking fuckhead can go piss up a rope," Mugen drawled. His language hadn't improved, but it sounded like all his anger had vanished. He almost seemed… playful.
She liked Mugen like this. She really liked him like this. She wanted him to stay this way. "Fine, but if you try anything in the middle of the night, I reserve the right to knee you in the nuts, remember?" Fuu sniffed haughtily and flounced over to her blanket by the fire.
It seemed that playfulness was contagious.
Fuu only felt nervous butterflies in her stomach when she heard rustling fabric behind her. "You'd better not be thinking of sleeping naked, you pig," she warned.
"Not naked, juss usin' my shirt fer a pillow," Mugen slurred, lack of energy finally making him sound as drunk as he actually was. "Hot… too much sake…" he continued to ramble.
Fuu settled on her blanket by the fire. Mugen dropped his makeshift pillow by her head. She was oddly touched, until she rested her head on it and wrinkled her nose. "Mugen, your shirt smells like sake and cheap brothel perfume."
"Feel free not t' use it," Mugen yawned hugely, lay down, and unceremoniously threw his arms around Fuu's waist, dragging her backward into his bare chest with no subtlety at all. He didn't heed Fuu's yelp, and buried his nose in her shoulder before he was out cold.
Fuu really didn't want to be awake and have to explain this when Jin came back. That was a good enough reason to fall asleep quickly.
o0o0o0o0o
Consciousness came slowly the next morning. Fuu woke groggy and heavy-limbed from a night of good sleep. She didn't panic when she remembered the events of the night before; instead, she panicked when she glanced over and saw some of Jin's things had moved.
Her first thought this morning was worrying what Jin's reaction had been.
Wow, she had it bad.
Although at this point she wasn't sure who she 'had it bad' for.
Fuu turned away from the dying embers of the fire, and looked at Mugen.
He hadn't kept hold of her all night. Instead he'd returned to his usual gangly sprawl sometime in the middle of the night. Only one hand remained trapped under Fuu, and most of him wasn't even on the blanket anymore. He must have been telling the truth about being overheated from sake.
The morning light hid no flaws on his bare torso. The deep bronze tan that spat on the samurai ideal of perfect pale skin. His hair unkempt and wild instead of straight and glossy. Prominent muscle and bone instead of smooth, elegant lines. His emotions always showed plainly on his face, instead of a dignified mask.
Definitely not samurai.
He really ought to be ugly. Sometimes he was. That didn't change the fact that he exuded a raw sexuality that she hadn't felt from anyone before. The closest comparison she had were her years as a waitress dodging the groping hands of dirty lecherous men, but this was the first time someone like that didn't disgust her.
Fuu's eyes were drawn to his scars, especially the fresh ones that hadn't had time to fade.
From Mukuro. From Sara.
She'd stitched him up and bandaged him both times, and knew which injuries came from where. The other times, too, but those were the two that stood out.
The first time, Fuu wept when she thought he'd died. The second time, she had tried to die with him.
Fuu would have told everybody, and wouldn't be completely lying, that she had been trying to protect Mugen, that throwing herself over him had been a gamble meant to save him.
That hadn't actually been the case. There had been no time to make such calculations. The only thing in her mind, right then, was that Sara had killed Jin, and was about to kill Mugen.
And…
And she wanted to die with him rather than live on without them.
She'd really gotten pathetic, hadn't she? She was depending on them far too much, had grown too attached. What a fool she was.
A hand gripped Fuu's wrist. She'd been gently tracing a finger over the scar Sara had left. Fuu's eyes followed the hand up to see Mugen's eyes open, staring at her. He didn't pull her hand away, nor pull her towards him. Just gently held her wrist in his hand.
A sudden wave of both shyness and fatigue washed over Fuu, and she found herself lying back down.
Instead of letting go of her wrist, Mugen rolled on top of her.
His sleep-warm body felt amazing, his bare skin felt even better than amazing. That still didn't erase the fact that he was really freakin heavy and Fuu could barely breathe. She could breathe, but she couldn't move.
His lips pressed on hers, slow and drowsy. Fuu pulled her head to the side. "Phew, your breath stinks."
"You're no bed of roses yourself," his voice was dry and scratchy with sleep, and he covered her mouth again.
She may have morning breath, but she didn't have hangover morning breath! Fuu would have said so, if his tongue hadn't been in her mouth.
He was in her way. Fuu bit down, expecting him to pull away and get angry. She hadn't expected him to stiffen, letting out a low groan while something unmistakably twitched against her stomach.
There was an embarrassing rush of wetness between her legs.
Fuu squirmed. The same thing that was pressed against her stomach twitched again.
Mugen finally released her mouth, and Fuu panted for air as he lay his head on her collarbone. She'd completely forgotten what she'd wanted to say.
Right!
His breath really was bad.
She told him so.
"That gives me an idea," Mugen replied, and with no warning, picked her up.
Fuu let out an undignified squawk as he snagged his red jacket and started walking.
"Hey, where are you going! What does picking me up have to do with morning breath!" she was too off balance to formulate proper questions.
"You won't be able to relax if you're worried about that samurai shitrag walking in on us again," Mugen muttered.
Fuu stopped struggling. Mugen's eyes were still hazy with sleep, but no longer dulled by drink.
She had only promised to believe him if he still meant it in the morning. She hadn't promised anything else.
She wasn't stopping him either.
Fuu knew he could overpower her without even really trying. She also knew that every time she told him to stop, he had.
Mugen walked upstream from their camp, and eventually seemed to decide it was far enough. He dropped his red jacket in the roots of a great tree on the grassy bank of the stream, and lay Fuu down on it.
Fuu was glad he'd brought the jacket. She could see the dew glittering on the blades of grass around her. It looked cold. The bank was steep; not so much that she was afraid of tumbling down it, but she definitely felt the pull of gravity toward her feet.
What was Mugen planning?
The former pirate knelt below her legs and loosened her yukata.
Here was the part where she expected to feel fear. When she would panic and tell him to stop. She waited for it.
Mugen looked like he was waiting for the same thing. He raised his eyebrows, looking pleased about something when she didn't object and he pulled open her knees without protest.
It wasn't until he slid his hand under her lower back and lifted that she asked "What are you doing?"
Mugen gave an exasperated sigh, "You just can't let anything be, can you? You have to open your mouth and –" he visibly bit off whatever he was about to say. "Have a little faith in me, will ya?"
"Okay," Fuu said, "Now, what are you doing?"
He grinned wickedly, "I'm going to use my mouth on you. I'd tell you to shut up, but there's no way you'll be quiet in a few moments." There was no fatigue in his expression now, his eyes glittered like light off a blade.
"Your mouth?" That sounded… ew. Yet intriguing. She'd heard rumors of things like that, but never considered it actually happening to her.
"No worse than morning breath," he said, before lowering his head and lifting the hand under the small of her back. The slope of the bank meant he'd been kneeling significantly below her, and barely had to hunch as he brought his mouth to her. His other hand spread her open, and he blew gently on her before dragging his tongue over the same spot that had made her scream the time before.
Fuu screamed again, shrilly and desperately, as he dragged his tongue up over that spot again and again. She didn't even have the brainpower left to scream any words, just pure notes of sound torn from her throat. He pushed his face into her, using the flat of his tongue and making each stroke as long and intense as possible.
Her legs wrapped over his shoulders, her hands fisted in his hair. Held immobile, he had to change tactics and began to do things with his tongue that she couldn't even pay attention to, as it blurred together in a pleasure so intense it felt like pain, even like torture, and half of her was screaming to make it stop before she actually died from it. Still, her hands in his hair and her legs around his neck tightened even more as she continued to scream. Dark spots appeared in her vision as her brain begged for oxygen. And she sobbed in relief when release finally hit her and she rode out the waves.
After it was over, oversensitivity hit her so hard that she cried out and wrenched her hips to the side to break the contact. Mugen let her go and lowered her back to the ground.
Fuu's entire body was trembling violently, tears from the overwhelming sensation streamed freely down her face.
Mugen looked smug.
Bastard.
She protested when he pushed his hakama down, looming over her, his position ready to thrust deep inside.
"No, no it'll hurt…"
"Let me," he said, "You can take it. I'll avoid the spot that's too sore."
She gave a weak nod and he slowly pressed in. Fuu whimpered and tried to keep her legs closed as much as possible. The spot between them was too raw and it was agony to touch. Mugen kept his body upright and away from pressing on that spot, but it was still too intense and she began to hyperventilate.
Mugen growled in frustration and moved both her legs together under one arm, essentially turning her on her side. Fuu nearly wept with relief as she could finally press her thighs together over the sore spot.
In this position, his thrusts were forced to be shallow to stay in, but he made up for it by each one being so hard she felt the impact through her whole body. The friction close to, but not directly on that spot between her legs felt wonderful.
After screaming so much, Fuu had been on the edge of unconsciousness, but as oxygen finally started returning to her brain, she could hear Mugen growling filthy things in her ear. How wet and slick she was after she came. How tight she was even after release. How good she felt around his cock. How in a few years, tops, she'd grow some fine tits to match that glorious ass.
His voice hitched, his breath stuttered over her skin, and he went rigid as he came inside her in a hot rush. He sank down, panting, and this was the final thing she had been waiting for. She needed to see what he'd do now.
Mugen settled beside her and threw an arm over her body.
He'd stayed.
She was no longer a virgin who would need 'something to hold on to', but he stayed.
The liar!
Also, earlier he'd said she'd grow breasts in 'a few years' like he planned to be around that long.
Fuu turned to face him. "You are so completely full of shit, you know that?" she mumbled into his chest. Full-body bliss prevented her from putting any bite into the words.
"Shut up for once in your life you pushy bitch," he mumbled back, burying his nose in her hair.
THE END
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Note:
Here's a happier resolution. And more pr0n. (If you found this chapter to be skin-crawlingly purple melodrama, just pretend the story ended after CH1.)
More notes, musings, and a cut scene / OMAKE can be found at squizbee dot livejournal dot com, which is also linked in my profile.