Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Samurai Tango ❯ If What Should Happen Under The Heavens ( Chapter 4 )

Understanding :

Doragon - Meaning dragon in Japanese

The color of a mango, for few know - Usually an orange color that looks slightly pink, when pale, appearing a soft flesh toned pink.

Currently Revised : Date of revision - March 13, 12:09pm

__________________________________________________

Chapter 4

If What Should Happen Under the Heavens

1

Perfectly round and smooth, pale in comparison to the blackened backdrop of the glittering starlit sky that shone no less and many more than a billion stars, none could know how many, but their beauty was ever present just the same as the moon's was as it glimmered with its solemn and shady light down upon Jin and the world in which he lived out his demure existence. The world was beautiful at the present moment. Nothing could shame this night, for it was elegant as much as it was soothing. The breeze was silky as it washed over him tenderly, waking the deep interlocking of the limitless boundaries that contained his thinking and thoughts, memories, feelings, all that was him and would ever be. The worst moment of his life could have happened earlier that day, yet now, by it's beauty, Jin would be healed on a night such as this. What ever it was about cool summer nights and autumn afternoons he would never know, but all those he had witnessed left their memories very alive in his soul. They spoke of laughter and lightheartedness, of warm color and cool tones, fresh scents to lull his nose and numb his mind in a deep joyous splendor. His world here in this moment alone, it was gorgeous just being.

The god's and spirits, what eyes, hands, and minds they have, for them to create such, I could never do, Jin thought as his solitude pressed down on him. His loneliness was a revered friend he enjoyed the company of, finding his peace with and it made him feel happy to only have his thoughts entertain him without the interruption of his companions. Jin thought it funny that, when he most wanted away from Fuu and Mugen, his thoughts concentrated on them. So even when away, he was with them in a sense. He had friends, even if they pissed him off most the time, and it really wasn't that they angered him, but annoyed him. If all their journey had been up to him things would definitely have gone different. Clear thinking and a good sense of direction would probably have shortened their journey, two things of which he obtained except that his company didn't care to listen or pay attention to. And he was just fine with that.

The samurai who smelt of sunflowers, the mysterious man whom Fuu desired to find; interested him greatly. Given a good sense of intuition, Jin thought the samurai no doubt had known Fuu, shared a mental bond with her near to a physical level, that he guessed Fuu knew this man on a personal level. A brother? Not possibly a lover, or perhaps a man who had been betrothed to her and run out just when the two should have been married. Except it was Fuu, and he knew little of her background. For one thing, she was too trusting of people, men alone. And maybe that was because she was naive at her age alone. She in many ways was a complete mystery that he hoped in the future could understand.

And what did Mugen matter? Jin and him were mutual enemies and knew only the short of friendship foe's shared. That too comforted him greatly, for in truth your closest enemy, while also being your greatest threat was very loyal in many ways. Mugen proved this already, having this great need to be the one to see to Jin's death, his raw determination on that proved a safeguard for him, and not that Jin needed that. To shame to even think that, yet he did, and to amend it, He was the same for Mugen.

All his pondering awakened his senses, he could hear the wind caressing the grass and leaves of the distant trees as they shivered like one large symphony playing the same note, growing loud and quiet, so peaceful, thought Jin. The beach which they had arrived at by late noon he had traveled down some distance, a good seven minute walk. The slender gulf of beach that dipped into the land curved further in the more south he went, walking with no destination along the water's edge, listening to the lulling waves washing in and out with it's cool-crisp song, refreshing the land. The place he decided to stop at was where a tiny and nearly enclosed lagoon pulled in, coating the forest edge with a good three yards width of beach. The many sounds of various nocturnal birds sounded softly beyond him in the labyrinth of greenery. He sat on the beach and laid back in the sand, staring up at the sky and released a great tide of his thoughts to clash into one another and sweep over his mind so that he might sort himself out.

His male urging still swelled tight but he didn't feel the need to tend to that right now and still. And while the world sang it's many comforting lullabies of night, another noise caught his attention. At first Jin ignored it, an animal lurking in the under brush close by, he thought. Then the thrashing of leaves and solid thumps of heavy footing frantically making way through the forest. When calm had been him a strange panicking alarm went off causing his heart the quicken it's pace. He bolted up right from the sand, giving no time for the tiny glittering ocean gravel to just fall but be tossed up with his motion and spit forward into the water, causing a light sprinkling sound as the sand pelted the water's surface. Alerted that it maybe was someone watching, he gathered himself and stood, looking into the darkness, the moon giving no favors to provide light into the vegetation.

The footsteps grew louder, two human feet, he concluded quick, coming dead on. Who ever they were was running as fast as their legs could carry them. He soon could hear the sharp rasps of their uneven breathing, thick huffs forced in and out of their lungs as they frantically made way, running blind through the woods. He braced himself when the steps finally entered and a figure in silhouette displaced it's self from the blackened forest, plopping heavily through the sand of the beach. Jin saw the slowed movements, their sandals seeping into the sand and slowing them down and before they could even gather where they were going and in which direction, Jin found himself being clashed into like a wall. He stood his ground and a youthful, pale face with red lips and thick lashed eyes peered up at him in what one would call a look of entire horror. The woman fell back as she rebound off of Jin, doing her best to gain footing as she stumbled back uneasily and finally made impact with the ground, harshly slamming her rear into the sandy earth. Her breathing was rugged and as if Jin were out to get her the same as those whom she was running from, she speedily turned over, scrambled to her feet and across the way, darting past him while trailing the line of the water in the direction he came from.

Just as before, his ears were aloof to strange sounds combating the forest. Standing stiff with his back facing the ocean, his ebony eyes narrowed more so than he usually kept them, forcing his vision to see into the leafy underbrush where trees thickly lined the edge of the forest from the beach and between them where dense bushes filled in. The forest swayed uneasily as the lady's pursuers crashed through the green, trampling shrubbery and breaking low hanging branches of innocent trees recklessly, hellbent on catching the poor woman. Jin knew all to well what circumstances were about to befall him. For a moment his conscious seized a funny thought. This was so much like Fuu's situations. Giving a soft laugh to the moon he reached down with smooth grace to his sheathed katana, the half of the handle that had been pressed to his side was warm from body heat, the other cool to the touch. His slender fingers hugged to the rough woven ray skin that was swathed tight and intricately around the handle of the sword, pulling it forth from it's sheath, the rasp of metal on metal, crisp and grating, sounding dull in the quiet pervading about him. The lady's pursuers crashed out of the forest, looking at the man bathed in faint light, skin pale and smooth, the moon's light casting back from the spectacles perched on his nose, not allowing them to see his eyes and the cold determination that resided them like a boiling pot of fiery molten metal glowing hot yellow, ready to fall and splash out.

Seven men garbed in worn travelers clothing with swords of every sort, down to stubby blades to long thin ones, to the last two men guarded with bows; all seven poured out of the forest dumbfounded to see Jin standing alone in the cool pale light, his sword glancing the moon's reflection hungrily as he held it out ready for them. “Get him!” Their lead man shouted and they followed his order, rushing to him. The bowmen stayed their ground and knocked arrows his way, which Jin deflected with the precision the likes of which few men may ever have seen. His sword was flicked up and the bladed twisted, the arrows pinged off of his katana and the party closed in on him, blocking their bowmen, of which Jin had planned for, expecting those first two arrows and the rest of the men to pin him against the shore, and that simply could not be allowed.

Like starved wolves they rushed in and in the last few feet of space between them pouncing with their swords, leaving open many vulnerable places which Jin cut into ever so swift, cleaving four of the men too easily. Cool focus settled into his blood, letting him know he had the upper hand and he stepped over the bodies lain grievously strewn on the beach and partially in the waters, dark blood appearing black in the night air, washed into the ocean like ink in a fresh jar of water, drifting and mixing in veins of distorted smokey wisps, tarnishing and sating the thirsty sand. Now one man whom wielded a sword was left standing, the bowmen nowhere to be seen but clearly in waiting as solemn arrows darted through the air and pelted the sand inaccurately. Where ever they were hiding in the forest they didn't have a clear shot and probably would become too afraid to shoot any longer if he was engaged with their last swordsman, scared they would hit him instead of Jin.

Keeping that knowledge in mind, Jin strode forth elegantly, midnight blue cloth of his kimono billowing wildly in the air, pressing to the form of his figure with him rushing to the man who followed suit and was coming his way with no less speed. Their lead man, the one who was leading the party after the girl, the one in charge to Jin's knowledge and that wasn't hard to figure out, considering he gave them the orders to attack in the first place, Jin understood this was the guy he needed to eliminate. The bowmen would definitely engage no more until the two were distanced enough that they could chance a shot in clear range that their leader wasn't in and wouldn't be endangered. His opponent charged on steady feet, taking long loose steps, his face was long, nose thin, skin nearly as pale of Jin's and hair black, smooth and long, held back by a band tied around his head. The two foes were very much alike except that, while Jin held his youth by twenty years of age, it was clearly obvious the other had ten years on him, although still suave in appearance while adorned in clothes fit for a poor farmer.

Faces, they always flashed first in his eyes, the last thing you saw before the clashing of your blade against the enemies. He had to look and see if they shared his same cold determination, although most times he found fright in the eyes of his foe's, a factor that bothered him greatly because Jin knew, a look such as that in his opponents eyes meant he was destined victorious and part of him felt unfair after winning, cause he already knew the outcome. A face and it's simple read emotion was like looking in a glass ball and foreseeing victory or loss and sometimes both if one could believe that. A man never wants to kill, even when he has no choice, there is a part of his soul that cries when severing a life from this world, Jin thought as his counterpart swam up to him and tossed his blade out, slashing horizontally across his belly. Jin pulled back, the sound of his enemies sword swishing through the air pierced his ears oddly, and in what was only a fourth of a second his body reacted by instinct: leaned back to miss the blow, knees bending, feet grounding and arm curling back and furiously whipping up, clashing into the man's sword with fiery speed that left the air hot.

His enemy was swift and parried his blow aside like it was a mere fly buzzing about. This man's face read arrogance and fearlessness, two things that led Jin to know, that he wasn't an ordinary swordsman, but that slight conceded look he carried would ruin this victory although he'd put of a hell of a fight. Both of them parted with a single step back each, swinging opposite arms with swords meeting dead between them, clashing loudly and rasping as the metal of each blade grated against the other like lightening. They both spun around and found themselves faced with one another again, swords haling but Jin found a different tactic, one that was unusual to his fighting regimen, not even considered in bushido. Instead of letting the weapon be only an extension of his arm he whirled around and put his whole body into the movement of his blade, sending with it his body's momentum and acceleration.

His sword flickered the moons dancing rays of light, flashing across the glass lenses of his spectacles, his hair was now torn loose from the tidy pony-tail it had been bound into, falling freely about his face and curtaining it, pouring down over his cheeks in silky black waves that grew untamed and absolutely wild with his motion as his katana cut through the air, the moment had been slowed, and Jin entered the secret world of which only a warrior knew, the moment before defeat; when you could hear your own breath and heartbeat fluttering slowly as time seemed to halt to keep afoot the moment where critical events were about to take place, and either you or your enemies life would forever be changed and forgotten among the countless time-line of history, but to whom it mattered was the victor, except it was different this time. Jin's actions were swift yes, decisive? Absolutely. This moment in time frozen to only the those involved in the action began to speed, time was catching up it seemed and his sword, swinging through the air, slicing so fast he could hear wind haling off it and onto his foe, bombarded into the man's thrown up blade, an attempt to combat Jin's sword away which proved a bad idea.

This stranger who was foolish enough to oppose the ronin Jin was indeed a fool and so knew it the exact second before Jin's blade crashed into his own. Jin's own energy coursed through his arm and through that to his sword and unto the stranger with hair bound back in a headband. He felt the riveting pulses and then violent vibrations and yelped in a course voice that made the forest howl in protest and hair rise up on the back of Jin's neck. The man dropped his blade unable to hold it any longer, his bones from his wrist to his elbow were shattered. Jin relaxed his entire body the instant the stranger cried out in agony and dropped to his knees, gasping and howling at Jin.

Gazing down at him, Jin's hair swept back and forth monotonously and he delicately reached up, pointing a finger and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Why is it your chasing that woman?” he asked without the sound of gasping for breath, to skilled and trained to be worn out by such a minuscule duel. His tone was so smooth and calm, truly showing how stoic Jin really was. The stranger gritted his teeth and winced as two arrows flew past him and impaled the sand around Jin's feet. “I would stop them if I were you, it's only going to lead me to kill you if they continue to shoot at me.”

Groaning he tossed his face back to the woods, unseeing his men and bade them to hold their bows. Grimacing he looked back at Jin, speaking in thick groans, “Fuck this hurts! Samurai do not use chi! . . . The woman belongs to me,” he half mumbled after a contorted stream of heated jibberish.

Chi? I suppose samurai do not, in this case you gave me no choice to resort to it, Jin said within thought and the woman's image flashed in his mind. “How so?”

“Her husband, he could, he could not afford his last loss at the dice tables, so rightfully she, she belongs to me, who he lost too,” he said so simply as if that justified everything.

Jin was not amused at how well he contained his pain by the pretty answer he gave him. “Now you have lost to me. I can take your life, or you can let her go. What would you do?”

The man's eyes brightened. He was scared to death this samurai in blue was going to do away with him, but considering his words, there possibly was hope after all and it didn't take long for him to find an answer. “Have her, she is all yours.”

“I do not want the woman, she is not property to give away. Let her return to her husband and he be debt free to you.”

“Fine then, as you wish, it's done.”

2

Her skin glowed a soft shade of pale mango, but he could see her face no longer as she turned away from him with deep shame in her eyes. Part of him cared that she was ashamed, cared because he caused it, and the greater, more open part of him didn't give a damn. Mugen gazed down her, his fingers still wet and drying fast enough that they were now becoming stickily dry. He hated that feeling and had more to preoccupy himself at the current time that it didn't matter. His body was pulsing blood forcefully and he could feel it throbbing through his limbs and fingers, and a few other places which was quite visibly apparent. “Oh get over it,” he called down to her. His voice came out of nowhere and both his choice of words and sound made her body jerk and jump gently. Looking down at her he couldn't tell if this conversation was going to go any further, didn't seem like it, but Fuu had a big mouth and would say something . . . hopefully, cause he felt pretty fucking awkward and was not taking well to her making him feel that way. And dammit! She was making him feel all sorts of things he wasn't accustomed to her pressuring his emotional pea-sized section of brain with, not that his brain was small, just the part of it that let him feel things and respond with a reasonable reaction. Brash and cocky, those are what took up the greater portion of his mind, except that now, he didn't know if that was so, disturbing him greatly enough that for the very first time in his 19 years, Mugen could not think of a correct way to respond.

Awkwardly he reached up with a thin arm and itched his scalp nervously, “I-ja,” a sigh escaped him. “Well fuck,” he said in a calmly amused way that Fuu exhaled a giggle at, she couldn't help it. He sounded so, so baffled and sounded like he knew he was and just didn't know what to say next, and it was all true. They both new it and amazingly enough, it relieved tension between them.

Fuu felt a little bit better that he felt the same as she did right then, finding courage enough to force herself up from the cooled grass and twist around to look up at him. It was weird of course, he just had touched her in places only she was supposed to know about and for gods sake, it was Mugen! It was Mugen! He had provoked sounds and feelings, and many other things from her that did not want to be talked or thought about, as Fuu thought of it. This strange air between them was choking that chance. “I, I feel really stupid right now,” she said tiredly, purposely focusing on the ground to avoid him.

He smirked and tittered, gaining that cocky demeanor back, “Were you feeling stupid when I was-”

Great, he just had to say it, had to ruin the moment that she thought some invisible do-gooder had come and patched up with a thick, smothering band-aid, but no, of course he had to rip it off and the healing flesh along with it and assert his two sense in, like always. “Don't even say it!” she barked wildly, fist clenching her kimono, which by the way, had yet to be properly closed, thankfully that invisible do-gooder had kept it over parts of her she needed not be seen right now, especially by the guy looming over her with his tool peeking out against his shorts as if to say hey to world in a seemingly discreet way that made her feel dirty.

It was back, he was back in check, all it took was that annoying part of him that Fuu appeared to hate so much for to Mugen gain leverage on himself. He felt in the right place and in the right mind to deal with the situation which he didn't want to call quits on just yet. The girl with doe eyes had no chance to capture the moment before he was coming down fast, fluidly coming to his knees and still looming over her, though now, his silver hues beheld of look of passion and heart stopping empathy to deal with what needed to be dealt with. Again her heart convulsed, causing a minor throbbing in her temples that she did not even feel cause his gaze boring into her. She leaned back to peer up at him with strange wonder, eyes glossed over and nervously shifting the more he leaned over and into her, where there was hardly any space between the two, the fire next to them providing the only light and forgotten of in its glorious hot comfort, for the fire growing in it's makers was so much greater.

Mugen wasn't playing games anymore, he no longer knew himself and wasn't going to look back to hear his conscience interfere. Neither of them had time to count when Mugen fell into her and Fuu gave way, falling back into the grass with only her elbows holding her up. His lips smothered hers hungrily and for the first time in all truth, she engaged in a kiss that both wanted at the same time. His tongue invaded her mouth and she combated it with her own, to the vagrants surprise, letting him know she was just as hungry for this as he was and no more chances would be given to say no, it was unnecessary. The world about them lost its existence and only they were in being, all else in the universe gone along with time. Great huffs of air pushed out of their noses as each hungrily tore at the others mouth with lush, moistened lips to which neither knew who's saliva was who's anymore, the tastes of each others mouths combined to form a flavor with no description except for heated passion.

Engrossed in their kiss Fuu's hands moved on their own, placing themselves on his cheeks and she regretted doing that at first when her back pressed into the ground with his added weight. His lips peeled from hers and with eyes resting shut his hands grasped hers, hot and sweaty, comforting her cold nervous fingers when his laced hers and his lips trailed down her chin and neck quickly, giving soft kisses. Panting softly she peeked through hooded lids at him, his face was so calm and beautiful. Hard to believe in a sense for there was nothing about him she ever had found attractive before, even when considering his looks in the past. Of course he was beautiful, with eyes calmly shut, his expression relaxed, dark tawny skin smooth and damaged by the sun and puberty long past, which she didn't care if it was, it was beautiful to her, so close that she noted his every detail. Her heart fluttered insanely as she watched his lips press to her pale flesh and give tedious sucking kisses that made her tremble and tense her thighs as quakes of aching, needy pleasure ebbed from between her legs throughout her entire body.

3

“I will,” Jin said smoothly and twirled around gracefully without even trying to be. The man who's arm he'd shattered remained where he was on his knees in the sand, his last two men, the one's with bows fled from hiding and scurried to him quickly, assessing the damage done to their leader. Teeth grating, he stared into Jin's backside with a look of complete disgust, hatred, and revenge, his brows drawn together to complete his snarl. Without a word he let loose his ruined arm and signaled for Jin to be shot. The bowmen grasped their bows and pointed his way, the creaking of their bow strings sounded in Jin's ears and he whirled around with blazon speed, the arrows flying his way. Two long shafts sliced through the air effortlessly, deadly tips destined for his heart. Jin's sword had already been sheathed yet it wasn't when he had whirled around, with hands that held speed that frightened the god's and spirits both, his blade glinted arrays of the moons light, his spectacles glimmering, hair and clothing tossed and frayed with his lightening bolt movements. He exuded the elegance of a skilled warrior, and it was masterfully beautiful every action he took although the deaths that would follow would not be pretty in the least. One! Two! He shifted his iridescent silver blade quickly left with a curving motion of his arm so to fling the arrow back, then in what looked to go without any movement, as if he magically appeared slightly more right with his blade curving and slinging back the other arrow, both of which cast back at those whom had sent them flying and thudded into their bodies, death the outcome. Both the bowmen collapsed into the sandy beach, blood pooling around their leader left in udder shock, witnessing such astonishing skill.

To Jin, it was nothing more than another needless kill that had to be done in order to keep his own life going. He made nothing of it and once more turned on his heels, sheathing his sword away smoothly and left the man to himself.

4

Why did life have to be so complicated? Every time things started to settle, chaos happened to tip the balance of reality and her sanity. Aikyo was far from home, both she and her husband were travelers here in the recent past few months, having to pick up and leave every time the man who she had been happy with once, owed more money than he could pay. He slowly over time became a drunk and overly avid gambler. It had started with nightly trips to the brothels, which hurt her more deeply than anyone actually knew, and even worse when he came home, and for the first few weeks, he was relatively sober, gradually stepping it up to where he came in stumbling and smelling of other women and their oily rank perfumes with is own added scent of musky dry liquors. Those disgusting, stomach wrenching smells were ingrained in her mind in the place she stored memories that left her feeling out of sorts and ashamed, but mostly wounded in the heart.

Now for a week, captured by ill company who her husband was deeply in debt to, Aikyo found the days hellish. This time she wouldn't go back to him, running for her life from not only her husband but Konichi. Her husband posed false promises with his addictions that she knew deep down was a sickness he wouldn't easily overcome. Konichi, the man he owed great amounts of money too, wasn't any better. At first she believed being taken away from her husband would be a relief, but soon figured out that the grass wasn't that much greener on the other side. She was tossed into brothels by Konichi's pathetic 14 man gang that dubbed themselves the name Doragon.

When she refused brothel duty and had been beaten, the only person who gave her sympathy had been Konichi and it wasn't much to count for. As far as he concerned her, she was a means of possible profit, whether that be selling her out to strange men who would pay a few lousy yen for a night, or forcing her to serve his close yakuza buddies hand and foot. That is when things had taken a wild turn as Konichi started taking more interest in her than what she wanted.

Regret for all this weighed heavily upon her heart as she raced to freedom through the forest in the darkened hours of night. Running as fast as her tired legs would allow. The man she bumped into and fled from loomed on her thoughts like a thundercloud over a flooded village. They were after her, chasing her and she just knew her legs couldn't last forever. Every time her feet took a step she could almost feel them reaching out for her and would at some point pull her into their grasp and Aikyo would never escape again, forever a servant of some ill purpose.

That last guy could have caught her if he wanted, having pummeled into him and knocked herself down to the ground, his face was stuck in her thoughts; pale skin, refined but narrow features and those odd things standing in front of his eyes. He didn't look like the one's who were after her but she wouldn't chance escaping for anything. Aikyo haphazardly skittered alongside the beach touching close to the ocean's cool waters, all the calm sounds of the world interrupted by her heavy clopping sandals that made running on this sort of terrain terribly difficult. Those wooden sandals would be her downfall and she cursed every single time they stood in her way from distancing herself from Konichi's men. And following near the beach wasn't a very bright idea, leaving her in the open and exposed, and if anyone was tailing her, there was nowhere to run but into the ocean to drown, if she was that lucky.

Looking to her left the ocean stood rippling with waves and further to her right was the darkened wall of the forest where creatures gurgled noises and everything seemed swallowed in never ending blackness. Chancing everything she veered left and darted toward the tree line, finding her face nearly crashing in sand and grass where the land sloped up, stumbling twice cause those damned shoes. To hell with you! Aikyo gritted her teeth and frantically kicked off both shoes and leaped to further pace herself, bare feet touching down into the cold cushioning grass, striding into the forest when all was lost so unexpectedly just as she reached the edge of brush where the dark woods began.

In all the places in all the world, right here, growing thick and convoluted was thorned vines, sitting happily tangled hundreds of feet long-way, walling off the start of the brush just before the lining of trees. Her first step had been secure until the other foot fell and landed in spiny aching jolts of pain forced by the hidden thorny vegetation. She stumbled wincing in pain and tried jump away but there was more and more and she couldn't seem to get away from it, piercing her bare feet uncaring and finally she fell, in all of it. Panic screamed inside of her mind and Aikyo had to stop herself and freeze the moment to peer back from the direction she originally came from and to her surprise, there was no one. Had they given up? Lost track? Perhaps fallen to the same complication she was dealing with at the present moment? Aikyo didn't know and didn't care, she had to get moving and get the hell out of there.

The problem was, she was stuck and unable to see where the vines were to get out without being pricked to death. Worse then thorns on rosebushes, these vines scratches and pokes itched horribly. Afraid to move anymore the best thing she could think of was hunker down as low as possible to the ground and hope to gods and spirits both she wasn't seen.

5

Down the beach where the world was once again quiet and appearing lifeless, Jin traveled in his lonesome. The moon might have winked at him but he didn't notice, only took part in the night's splendor by keeping his eyes in the distance, searching for the woman to tell her of her freedom. While Jin knew he had defeated that man, he knew this woman was not free at all. The only way he saw that happening was if he stuck around to take note of things and his life right now centered around Fuu and her mission for this allusive sunflower samurai. More importantly, he didn't think it important to evade this strangers possible captors. Sighing he continued his brisk walk, eyes lurking back and forth in the open stretch of land between water and forest. He concluded that if she had ran into the woods, she would simply have to continue on without the news he carried.

Halfway the distance from where his companions camp was, a good half mile at most, he stopped, feeling a strangeness reach out to his senses, as if his subconscious new something he did not. And sure enough it's message pulled through, it wasn't science really, he could see the woman plain as day, well close enough with the moons light casting down so that he could make out the humped shape sitting near the forest. Had she given up, he wondered. Not likely, but why had she stopped if when before the woman clearly was frantic to escape.

Aikyo saw that man, watched him merge from the line of the forest blocking her view of the coast further down. When she first saw the silhouetted figure her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to scream and disappear but it wouldn't happen, couldn't, and she felt so vulnerable tears welled in her eyes. She was done for, yet when the figure was in close enough range so that she could decipher who it was, or rather that it was that man, who now was coming her way with slow patience, relief numbed her. He wasn't out to capture her and she clearly knew by his appearance. Jin's hair loose and flowing down his back and over his shoulders, his clothing somewhat out of sorts. Konichi and his men were dead or had ran from this man who might just have saved her.

Jin came her way, his eyes focused on her, his glossy black hues both were deep and narrowed, peering past the glass frames hanging on his nose. He was more pale than she, his skin glowed white, like that of the moon and he showed no sign of aggression. Aikyo's breath sucked in when he stopped at the edge of the vinery, obviously able to see it and maybe cause those glass things on his face. Still afraid her assumptions were wrong, she hunkered down lower, gazing at him with wide frightened eyes, Jin thought she looked like a threatened rabbit and swallowed with guilt, his silent nature not always as comfortable to others as he wished it would be. “You are free, do return to the whereabouts you come from, otherwise you will belong to him again.”

Aikyo gasped. Freedom? She didn't plan on returning to where she came from, or her husband or Konichi. Her thoughts suddenly stormed and as the man turned his back to her she stood up, wearily half-watching down, although still unable to see the vines, “Wait! I am free?”

Her voice was extremely soft and lilting, very lady-like indeed, he thought, and quite timid by tone. Jin paused his steps and looked back over his shoulder, “The man who leads the chase against you, the one who says you belong to him, he is still alive but wounded. I do not suggest you return where he may be found.”

“Then where do you suggest I go,” she called out to him, now unsure of herself. Where dread should not have come to torture her thoughts, it did. There was nowhere she had to go, Konichi's gang was nomadic, always on the move. She couldn't predict where he would be forever. The itching from the scrapes and punctures the vines had gifted her with was itching something unbearable. She stammered resisting the urge and took a step forward, hopeful her footing wouldn't betray her. Luck never was with her and both Jin and herself understood that at the same time. He watched her stumble and wince, coming close to tipping over into the unforgiving plant life. He watched without a word and just the same, stepped into the vines carefully, making way to her without trouble.

Aikyo paused watching him, growing aware of danger that might come with him getting too close and as soon as he had scooped her up, Aikyo went into the panic mode. No! It had been a trick! Why and how could she had fallen for this?! The gods hated her surely. She slapped and kicked, but Jin wouldn't give up until they were out of the vines and when they were she finally drew up the courage to toss a fist causing him to loose his footing and tip back, with her added weight on him he couldn't catch balance and down to the ground they crashed. She wasn't done yet, it would not end this way, she'd fight him to the death so help her!

The woman was feisty but in truth was no match for him even when he was pinned to the ground. The best option he had was to lay still and let her get over it. He wasn't bent on capturing her. By the time the woman figured it out she slapped him four times already and he took it like a good sport. Panting, Aikyo stopped herself and let her arms fall limp in her lap as she sat on him with his eyes looking up at her blank of emotion. “Say something dammit,” she whispered painfully. Jin's lips remained pressed together and she couldn't contain herself anymore, now coughing softly and breaking down to tears that flooded down her soft pale cheeks. It almost seemed like Jin didn't even notice the dramatic change in her disposition, watching her sit straddled on him as he lay in the cold grass, her tears disappearing into the dark kimono she wore.

“I told you the truth,” he said. “You are free, but do not return home or go in the same direction.”

“I, I don't know,” she whispered so low he almost didn't hear. Sucking in a quick breath she finished, “where to go.”

He wanted to sigh and say that it would be alright, yet he could not guarantee her that and would not chance becoming a liar. Like the many times Fuu was a victim of kidnaping and capture, he knew all too well what she most likely had been through, wanting to console her, yet there was that wall blocking off the ability to empathize, painting himself cold and unmoved by human need and feeling. His only choice was to sit up and pull her into his lap which felt extremely odd and made the circumstance more awkward than it already was. Fuu, unlike this woman, had Mugen and himself to keep her safe and get her out of trouble. Jin realized that as if it were new to him and sighed. “Stay with me until you find a suitable place to live.”

Aikyo's breath hitched as his stomach tensed and firmed to help him to lift up then he drew his legs in and folded them beneath her. She turned away slightly so only her side was pressed to him and could not find it in herself to look at him. “You would do that for me,” she asked in a low whisper.

Jin gave her no answer. He remained quiet and held her in his lap with one arm extended and hand grasping his knee so she didn't fall back. She smelt odd to him, like sweet smelling liquor that had been spilled on her clothing several times and left to dry, that and another smell he couldn't make out. A few minutes past with Aikyo silently crying, reduced to the one simple emotion of hurt that effected every single person differently. She was thankful that he intervened, but something told her her troubles were not yet over by a long shot and it discomforted this moment she should have been feeling okay.

No sense could be extracted from the foreboding she felt and it made her laugh out loud, meeting Jin's ears as a sobbing giggle from one who didn't see hope in the world or for themselves. “Why,” he paused almost about to drop the rest, “do you laugh?”

Aikyo reached up smearing her whole hand across half her face from underneath her eye and down her cheek, wiping away tears as her eyes veered right and found him looking down on her, his face sprinkled with the shade of leaves from the trees and speckles of moonlight peeking through the forest standing tall before them and the brush and vines. “I don't know,” she said studying him. His eyes were so dark behind those transparent lenses, liquid black and ever observant, as if beaming into the core of her soul. Aikyo quickly glanced away and back when he emitted a small huff of laughter and had to laugh again for it. “Thank you so much.”

Jin nodded as welcome while observing her close up, the shadow of the trees unable to reach her, unable to hide her features from his view. She was extraordinarily beautiful, no doubt why that guy had wanted her for his own. She had a heart-shaped face with porcelain skin and large angular eyes that glistened dark brown and lips that were naturally red. This woman looked like one of the geisha's naturally without any rouge or paint to make her pretty. How a woman with her looks had fallen into the position she was, baffled him. Beautiful women were not regarded unkindly, more so favored and easily finding higher status without effort, he thought.

6

Mugen's fingers squeezed Fuu's tight as they were laced with her own, pushing the backs of her hands into the ground on either side of her shoulders, his weight heavy upon her but she did not care. His gentle kisses made up for it, that was up to the moment he pulled away and the warmth that had been shared between them was blown away by cool air that left her shivering. His thin fingers unlocked from hers and the sweat permitted by them left between each of their fingers clammy. Mugen didn't sit up but stood up over her on hands and knees, something strange dancing in his eyes. Fuu could not find any words that were right to say with him looming over her and staring down, instead she bit her lower lip and looked away and as she had, he finally spoke.

“Damn,” he muttered in a smooth, cocky tone and smiled flashing his teeth. Her eyes timidly looked his way, finding him scaling her body below him, taking in the seductive image of her lain messily in the grass with her kimono parted open and torso exposed to him as if she'd been half ravished, which by his judgment, hadn't been the case, not yet. He never had seen this side of her, had never seen her nude body before. She was average with a slender body and common sized breasts. More pros was that her skin was soft and blemish free, glowing in the firelight, her nipples a soft pink that went well with her pale skin and her body shape wasn't bad at all, and he admitted only to himself that she had a pretty face to go along with it. He watched her eyes grow unsteady, like she knew he was judging her and afraid of what he thought, becoming very conscious of her worst details, which he didn't see any. Or maybe it was what she thought he might do next, and that was something to worry about.

Mugen wasn't going to voice it or ask, he would do it shamelessly. Her eyes went fully open when he sat up, shaking away the grass that stuck on his palms. He rose up on his knees and reached down tugging at her obi and that was when he stopped, his fingers still gripping the thick pink fabric. Reaching fast she grabbed for her obi instinctively, “No.”

An annoyed huff spilled out of his throat. “Why not,” he managed to whisper back tenderly, hoping to calm her. Ignoring her plea he tugged again and she tugged back while coming to sit up, almost face to face with him. “C'mon, just let me look, okay.”

Her face was lite deep red and her eyes focusing on him so intently it made him feel out of place. This was very serious and she considered it so and wanted him to understand that, and he did, but didn't care. No man or woman, or anyone had ever got to look down `there' before and if they had she would be buried somewhere cause the embarrassment would have killed her. Letting Mugen look and see down `there' would surely cause her to die. If he didn't like what he saw she'd be to ashamed to ever look at him again and he would forever torture her about it. Gripping her obi, Fuu could not allow it to go this far. Things were strange enough with his affection cast at her in a situation that had been like most other times when he was teasing, except that it turned to perversion she gave into and wanted, now thrown into confusion and distrust.

“Fuu?” Mugen waited, watching her become distant with her thinking. Her eyes again focused on him and found a look she had never seen before on his face. His eyes were wide and serious, as if everything between them had been erased and he actually cared, or was this what he was doing in order to trick her into trusting him? He wouldn't betray himself like that just to see her secret places, she knew that and let go of the obi. Keeping his eyes on hers he pulled away at the obi and sat it to the side, eyes still on hers, his hand went to somewhere else she didn't expect and he lost her focus. Her brown hues darted to his hand catching the hem of his shorts and then went back to his eyes as she realized what he was going to do and what all else would follow after. She froze and dread shadowed over her, her heart began racing so fast it literally hurt.

He didn't want to look, although he did want to. Easing his shorts down, Fuu was too afraid and embarrassed to look down and chance seeing what she knew was showing. She began panting heavily and Mugen's own breath noticeably was matching. He knew what he wanted, and being true to himself, said nothing of it. Part of him was afraid to push things to this level. What if she isn't ready? What if I am wrong? Am I wrong? Gods I want this! Torn between moral and desire he could not chose which way to go. They were here and already pushing past the usual formalities he and Fuu had. Hell, they were not pushing anymore, he had clearly taken the cold and daring wall he kept up around himself so no one really knew that he actually had human compassion and needs and bombed it to ash. Nothing stood between them and he was afraid that if he did this with her, she wouldn't allow him to resume his natural persona hereafter.

For another matter, what if Jin walked up on this scene? Fuck, how long has it been since he left, he screamed in question within his mind. Jin wouldn't walk up on this scene, he'd avoid it by turning around and never speaking of it, and gods and spirits save him if he wasn't as smart as Mugen was guessing him to be to make those choices. Tossing that dilemma aside he reencountered the first but did not get a chance to solve it for Fuu saved him the trouble by reaching out for his face, her hands pressed to his cheeks and the last he saw of her was with closed eyes and puckered lips. Instinctively he kissed back, letting her take lead as he folded back her kimono and rolled his hips into hers. Fuu's eyes suddenly parted wide and closed, relieved, his hot skin touching to hers, his lower belly pressing to her and what was `secret' of his burned against her thigh. She knew what it was, expecting it to arrive in another place.