Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Wayward Wanderers ❯ Chapter 6

 

Wayward Wanderers Chapter 6

 

“You're not as innocent as you look, are ya.” He didn't state it as a question. She turned from putting away some tools in the garden shed, wiping her hands on her makeshift apron.

 

“What do you mean by that?” She didn't squawk; she didn't put her hands on her skinny hips. She wrapped her arms around her ribs and looked at him. This time, the three of them holed up together, was different. There could never be a pattern with them, Mugen decided. Once he figured out how they worked together, something changed and made it all new again. He found he didn't really mind. Mugen had always been a curious kid; he liked to poke and prod and test just to see what he could get away with, and to see what others could take. He used the weeks they stayed on Ikitsuki Island to feel out their new dynamic, to define it for himself since the other two didn't seem to want to talk about it or look at it or figure it out. Mugen was curious and he'd never been subtle.

 

He took a step closer. “You know what I mean, girlie. Eyepatch wasn't your first. You said it yourself.”

 

She stiffened instantly and Mugen saw dark anger kindle in her eyes. “That's none of your business.”

 

He gave her a lazy grin. “Sure it is. Daddy samurai didn't want you back, didn't take you in and find you a nice respectable husband. All you got now is us. I think we should know if you're damaged goods if we're gonna-” He dodged her hand as it whistled by his cheek. Then he winced as the sudden movement pulled on his wounds.

 

“That was never my intention, Mugen. I hated my father for what he did to my mother and me. I would never have asked him for anything. When people asked about him, I told them I didn't have a father!” She said it with such venom that he knew she was being truthful. She was also dodging his first question.

 

He shrugged. “Doesn't matter now, then I guess.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “What doesn't matter?”

 

“That you're not a virgin. You won't be marryin' up without Dad.”

 

“I won't be marrying anyone, Mugen,”she hissed. “My virginity isn't the issue.”

 

Both parts of that struck him as odd. “Why not?” It was a terribly personal question.

 

She looked up at him as though he were the biggest idiot she'd ever come across. He had a feeling she was doing that stupid girl thing, 'If you don't already know, then I'm not telling.'

 

He thought of the times he'd watched her making new clothes for them, sewing a new red haori for him, cut just above the hips the way he liked it. She worked on a kimono for Jin made from plain gray fabric that Seizo's retainer had brought from town. She worked on these silently and usually alone, and she almost always looked sad when she did it.

 

He rolled his eyes and muttered, “Forget it.” He turned to go, frustrated with his inability to get her to answer a straightforward question, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him, looking uneasy and unsure.

 

“I don't want you to think that about me,” she blurted, “that I let men- do things to me that are... improper. Because I don't.”

 

He jerked his hand out of her grip and snorted. “Why would I care if you did?”

 

Her brow creased in confusion. “But you just said you did. You said you didn't want damaged goods and-”

 

“That's not what I said. Just said I wanted to know. Why would I care about what you do in the sack?” he repeated.

 

She was getting flustered and confused. Mugen was starting to have fun. “Why wouldn't you care? Everyone cares about that kind of thing. It's important!”

 

Now he turned her 'look' right around on her. They stared at each other for another few moments and then she blew out her breath and rolled her eyes. “Of course. Look who I'm talking to. To you, women are just sex toys anyway; there's no reason why you would care about the status of my virginity.”

 

That pissed him off just a little. She always did that, was always so quick to put him in a slot and claim she knew everything there was to know about him and 'men like him.'

 

“If you think I don't care, why won't you just tell me?” he snapped. He took another step forward and nudged her hip with his. She looked surprised, but didn't back away, didn't run away as he carefully backed her up against the garden shed.

 

“Because-”

 

He raised one hand slowly, keeping it visible and nonthreatening. She watched it come up, looking skittish but curious. Harsh words between them didn't necessarily mean they were angry at each other - usually they did, but not always. He vaguely remembered a kiss on hands and knees, when he'd been too tired and hurt to think much about it. He knew that he had to be careful, that he had to approach her like this, if he was going to get anywhere.

 

“Because-”

 

He put his hand on her shoulder and she didn't flinch. He slid his fingers down and underneath between her arm and her ribs. He pushed gently up, raising her arm over her head until it rested against the shed wall. Movements slow and easily anticipated, he ran his fingers along the pale skin of her underarm, watching her shudder just slightly. He kept his eyes locked with hers as he moved in, placing his other hand on her hip. He'd never been this careful before. He knew what he was doing, but was losing track of the steps at this slow speed. He found himself forgetting and having to make it up as he went along. He leaned down and breathed in, smelling her sweat. After a moment's hesitation, when he felt like she might bolt, she turned her head and touched her lips to his jaw, letting out a shaky breath.

 

“There was a boy,” she whispered. “About a year before I met you both. He came to the tea house. I think he liked me. We did things together, but he was supposed to marry someone else, so we never went beyond... And that man in the church-” She swallowed and he watched her throat working. “He hurt me, but he didn't- he didn't ever-” He didn't want to hear the words, didn't want her to have to say them, so he pushed her just a little harder against the shed and kissed her. He honestly didn't care whether or not she'd gone all the way with that punk from the teahouse, but he couldn't kill Eyepatch any deader than he already was, so he was glad to hear that he didn't really have to stew about it anymore. Fuu was still Fuu, more or less - slightly less innocent that he'd originally thought, slightly more... in tact than he'd come to fear after he'd seen those bruises.

 

As if to prove both points, two things happened in quick succession. First, he felt her smile into his mouth and grip his arm a little tighter, her other hand coming to rest in his hair.

 

Then, he heard Jin approaching the hut, and knew they'd been spotted. Jin was never loud enough to be heard unless he wanted to be. Fuu heard it too and forced out a small laugh. “Please don't tell Jin,” she murmured, flattening herself against the wall and then sliding away from him. Mugen did not try to stop her.

***

 

He made his first dive off the island probably before his body was ready for it, but over the past couple weeks, the need to dunk his head in cold water had become overwhelming. So he left Fuu in the hut and he left Jin meditating on the cliff and he walked out into the ocean, dressed only in his hakama, a sack tied to his ankle, his tanto inside. He waded until the water lapped at his belly and then he slid below the surface, heading out with strong easy strokes toward a ridge of rock that he remembered had several wrecks at its base. The water wasn't all that cold, but it still cleared out his head. On this side of the island, the waves were tiny, so he didn't have to fight much with the incoming tide. He swam until he reached the rock outcropping and then pulled himself up, checking the knot around his ankle and regaining his breath.

 

He glanced up at the cliffs and saw Jin still sitting there, no more than a dark silhouette, his hair streaming out to the side like a banner. Holier than thou, disciplined, cold, distant - even though he had confessed that Mugen and Fuu were what he'd been seeking all these years, he still held himself away from them. That confession came after a week of delirium, pain, and exhaustion. Who the hell could tell whether the punk had even meant it? Mugen couldn't decide if he cared or not. His own admission that he had no real desire to fight, let alone kill, Jin had come out of him without hesitation or embarrassment - further evidence that they'd both been out of their minds with pain at the time. He and Jin did not speak to each other like that, about things like that - not ever. And they hadn't since. While he knew that Fuu was warming up to him, was even responding to his casual advances, Jin's attitude toward him hadn't budged.

 

He shook his head and growled, spitting into the water. Who the fuck cared anyway? Soon as he had his full strength back and found a blade, he was gone. He dove off the rock, striking the water and kicking down hard, eyes wide open and seeking the looming shadows of the ships under him. The pressure on his ears increased the further down he went and he knew he'd have to be efficient because, too many of these dives and his brain would go a little loopy. The currents tugged at his limbs, making it obvious why these small ships had ended up on the rocks in the first place. He made it to his first target and cast about for any obvious loot. He saw a few boxes worth investigating before his lungs warned him that he was about out of air. He rose to the surface, gasping and holding his side, grabbing onto the rocks for a quick rest. He laid his head on the wet stone and looked back up at the cliff, noticing that Jin was gone.

 

He pulled his blade out of the sack and stuck it between his teeth before diving for a second time.

 

He attacked the cases he could easily reach, breaking the rusty locks with the tanto. He found nothing but parchment and scroll remains exploding in a cloud of fibers in the first couple. He went after another and found fine dishes and cups, probably European, but he couldn't grab any before he had to go up for air. His lungs began to ache as he made his next two dives, expanding further than they were used to and having to hold air for much longer. Damn, he was out of shape. But he managed to fill his bag with several of the nicer dishes and some very tarnished silver that he could polish and sell. It looked like whoever'd been on this ship was doing some serious trading with foreigners. Served'm right for going down on the rocks - not that he wouldn't take full advantage of what they lost. He spotted one last case that he wanted to go after just as his air ran out. He kicked hard for the surface, not liking the drag on his ankle, but unwilling to lose the loot he'd been able to scrounge together. When he neared the surface, his vision started to go funny and he knew he'd stayed down too long. The weight on his leg seemed to increase and the glimmering sun on the water started to go dim. He was about to slash the rope attached to his ankle when he suddenly found skinny legs and arms flailing about next to him. He saw one very alarmed ronin dressed in a very tiny piece of cloth and in spite of his best efforts, he burst out laughing, sucking in a great breath of seawater. Those thin arms hauled him out of the water a second later and slammed him against the rocks. He choked and heaved and laughed all at the same time as Jin squatted beside him and pounded on his back.

 

“Breath through your nose,” Jin commanded with his usual stern authority. Between gurgling breaths, Mugen cracked an eye and again was confronted with the image of Jin, white as a bleached shell, naked except for the bit of cloth covering up his dick and ass-crack. He had to hold his side in pain as he hacked up half the ocean and then tried to suck it back in as he gasped for breath.

 

“Fucker, you made me laugh,” he managed to wheeze.

 

“You would have preferred to drown?”

 

“I wouldn't have if you didn't make me laugh.”

 

Jin glared down his nose. “I fail to see the humor in nearly drowning.”

 

Mugen dragged himself further up on the rocks and then pointed an accusing finger at Jin's crotch. “I knew you wore those pansy-ass drawers, but I never saw'em that up close and personal before. Fucking hell, that was a shock.”

 

Jin looked down, flushed and a bit perplexed. “This is a standard undergarment for-” Mugen waved his hand in a wordless plea for Jin to stop as he coughed up and spit out the last of the seawater from his lungs.

 

“What're you doin' down here?” he finally asked. “Thought you were communing with the cliff or some shit.”

 

Jin slid backwards to sit carefully on the rocks, pulling his knees up to his chest in an uncharacteristic display of modesty. They'd been traveling together for months, and most times the two of them had shared a room or bathed together when Fuu demanded privacy. But Jin looked embarrassed now. “I was,” he muttered, “until you went under water and didn't come up for an alarming period of time. These dives are not something you should attempt alone.”

 

Mugen snorted and spit, all the while watching Jin's eyes. They were following every move he made, from where he rested one hand against the rocks, to his ankle still in the water, sack tied to it. Mugen had removed his bandages for the dives, not wanting them to drag him down or get ruined. Fuu would have yelled at him. Jin's eyes trailed over his wounds, from the jagged slice in his side that was mostly rough new scar tissue, to the hole in his abdomen that was still scabby in places. It was what Mugen always craved, this attention, but it was making him twitchy now that he had it.

 

“Yo, what's y're problem? Am I missin' a limb or somethin'?” To distract himself, he bent down and hauled the sack of loot out of the water, dragging it up onto the rocks, where he carefully opened it up and began to sift through what was inside. Jin never answered him, but continued to watch him as he stacked dishes and silver on a flat piece of rock. He shivered a few times in the cool breeze.

 

Without looking up, Mugen spoke again. “The motherload's still down there, and I can't haul it up by myself. I'm guessin' it'll be enough to set the three of us up for awhile until we figure shit out.” He finally glanced up to see Jin staring into the water, expression blank.

 

“I'm not the best swimmer,” he finally murmured.

 

“No shit,” he snorted. “But you don't gotta be. I'll bring it up s'far as I can and then you grab on to help haul it up.”

 

Jin finally turned to look at him, eyes distant and distracted. “How can you be sure there's anything of value in the chest?”

 

“It's the biggest and there was a lotta shit piled on top of it, like they were hidin' it.”

 

“It is a shipwreck, Mugen. I imagine whatever was on it was moved around significantly when it went down.”

 

Mugen stared blankly at him for a moment, wondering why Jin would question him about this, when he knew who Mugen was, who he'd been, what his entire childhood had been about. “Just trust me on this, okay?” There was that trust word again. “And, uh, don't shove your crotch in my face like that again. Don't wanna bust my guts open.” Jin's features turned down in a fierce scowl but Mugen only laughed at him before sliding back into the water. “Come down as far as you can and help me when I start pullin' the stuff up.” Then he went under and kicked downward. A few seconds later he heard/felt Jin behind him.

 

He worked quickly, lightening the load in the chest, dumping more dishes and some jewelry that might have fetched a decent price at market. He nearly tossed away a box of ornamental combs, but then, without thinking too hard why, he shoved them in the sack at his ankle. Then he grabbed two bags of gold ryo and headed for the surface. He didn't like the feel of the water on this dive. The smaller fish that had been darting around him the last few dives were gone and that could only mean that something bigger had moved in. He kicked hard and met Jin partway up, handing a bag off to him and drawing his knife. He turned to see if anything nasty was following them, thinking he had enough air to investigate. But Jin grabbed his elbow and shook his head, jerking his chin toward the surface.

 

They pulled themselves, gasping for breath, up onto the rocks, tossing the bags of ryo up with the rest of what Mugen had already found. Beside him, Jin did not look pleased. His dark eyes were crackling with something strange, something Mugen hadn't yet seen in them. He chose to ignore it for the moment, not liking it, and instead untied the knot from his ankle. He sat cross-legged on the rocks and again opened the box of combs. The wooden ones were ruined, but the ones made of bone still looked okay and the one made of jade was fine. The silver one was tarnished but he could fix that. He ran his fingers over the delicate teeth, wishing he knew what kind of price they could fetch. In the past, when he'd done this kind of thing, whoever he was working with at the moment did the calculations. Mugen was just the kid with the big lungs who dove for the loot.

 

Jin was back to not looking at him. He was staring up at the cliff. “If you wish to court Fuu, you should do it properly and give her a gift, something of value.” Jin turned to glance at him. “Something she would like.”

 

Mugen closed the box of combs with a loud 'snap' and stowed it with the dishes. He grabbed a bag of ryo and began to count. Counting money was one calculation he could make, especially big round numbers. He finished the first bag and grabbed for the other before he thought of anything to say. The counting was a necessary safety measure. His immediate reaction to Jin's words would have been to break bones and hold the ronin under water until he lost consciousness, or maybe until he was dead. Because Mugen was unsure, he counted money. Finally, after staring at the shiny coins in the bag for another few seconds, Mugen looked up, squinting against the glare on the water.

 

“I ain't courtin' nobody.”

 

Jin looked him full in the face now. It was still strange to see him without his glasses. “Then you are even more of a disgrace than I originally thought.”

 

Those kind of fighting words he knew how to handle. Those rolled right off his back. “Didn't wanna step on your toes, loverboy. I see you two talkin'. I know what you want.”

 

Jin's lip twitched when he spoke. “How could you possibly know what it is I want? And if you did, you would take considerable pleasure in stepping all over it.”

 

Mugen sneered and then fell silent, again not sure how to proceed. Time to be under water where the pressure in his ears kept him from thinking. “Let's finish this,” he muttered. “I want what's in that chest.”

 

Jin 'hn'-ed noncommittally.

 

“Keep close; there's somethin' mean down there now,” he said before going under.

 

If he could get everything from this chest to the surface, he could set himself up for way more than just a few weeks of his favorite things. Hell, what he'd already pulled up - even if he shared with the others - was a good start on that. He sifted through the sacks of gold ryo and pressed his lips together in a tight smile around the tanto in his teeth. He looked up to see Jin hovering a small distance above him, motioning for him to hurry up. He gripped both sides of the chest and nodded, bending at the knee, pushing against the old planks of the deck and propelling himself upward. He gestured for Jin to take hold of the other handle as they swam toward the surface. Between the two of them, the chest wasn't so heavy and they were able to swim reasonably well.

 

Very suddenly, the strange crackling in Jin's dark eyes turned frantic and Mugen knew it was fear when he spun to see a long gray shimmering shape darting toward them. He grinned and dropped the tanto from his mouth into his hand, twisting as much as he could while still holding onto the chest. The fish swam straight at him, sharp nose aimed for his ribs. It was sleek and long, a species he recognized from his childhood. They were far enough south to run into them here. He knew this fish was only interested in getting them both out of its territory, but it would enjoy taking a chunk out of either of them if it had the opportunity. He reversed his grip on the tanto as it drew close, aiming for the gills and a killing blow.

 

He let out a startled burst of bubbles as the weight of the chest abruptly dragged him down. His fingers tightened on the handle - he wasn't losing this much loot! - and he missed his best chance for skewering the fish, getting in a good slice but opening himself up for an attack in his side. The fish's teeth closed around his upper arm and jerked once before Jin's heel crashed into its skull. The fish thrashed and released him, darting back to the wreck amidst a shower of glimmering gold ryo. Mugen's numb fingers released the tanto as he went after the money that had fallen from the up-ended chest. But a long pale arm slid across his chest and gripped him along his ribs, jerking him up toward the surface. He snarled and struggled, releasing any air he had left, but Jin's arm may as well have been a band of steel. As the gold disappeared with the fish, he finally tore his eyes away and looked disinterestedly at the cloud of blood trailing from his bicep. That would only draw more of those fuckers, he thought, kicking his legs sluggishly, consciousness fading.

 

They broke the surface, Jin pulling in noisy gasps of air, Mugen barely with it enough to grab onto the rocks as Jin gave him a shove in the ass to push him up. When they were completely out of the water, they both collapsed and lay still.

 

When his breathing returned to normal and stopped rattling with seawater, Mugen's hands turned to fists and he rolled over onto Jin, anger burbling up inside him, curses spilling from his mouth.

 

“Bastard!” he shouted. “Motherfucker, I had everything under control!” Jin had sucked in a quick breath at Mugen's sudden attack but still managed to catch hold of his wrists before he could strike. He remained silent as Mugen shouted and spit in his face. “We coulda had all that loot and fish for dinner if you hadn't let go a'the fucking box!”

 

Mugen listened to himself shouting and then stopped, noting through the white glare of the water and his anger that Jin was just staring up at him, black eyes focused and intense. The money didn't matter in the least to Jin, he realized. And this made him even angrier.

 

“Whattaya think we're gonna do after this, huh? Just keep dickin' around, stealin' shit and doin' sword tricks for food? That money was gonna set us up and now it's all over the fucking ocean floor. What'll you do now, huh? I sure as fuck don't give two shits. I was tryin' to help and you dropped the ball, big time! What are you gonna do now?” he repeated, thoughts hiccuping forward. “And what about that dumb broad up on the hill, makin' you new clothes - what's she gonna do?”

 

The words flooding from his mouth sounded desperate, not like his.

 

“Fuck, do you think shit just happens? That's not how it works. You take what you can get, when you can get it. You always take. That's all there is for assholes like you and me. But you never see that. Honor and pride and whatever bushido bullshit you got don't mean-”

 

Jin sucked in another breath and shoved his leg between Mugen's rolling them both over. Mugen's world tilted on its axis as his back hit warm rock and a cold, wet, long body came up against his - flush against his. An overpowering feeling of deja vu swept through him and he was momentarily paralyzed, staring up at the silhouette pressing down on him. The sun was almost directly behind Jin's head. Jin pinned him and he didn't fight back, for those few seconds letting raw sensation rip up through him. It felt achingly familiar, but he couldn't identify where or when he'd ever- Jin moved his hips just slightly and Mugen arched his head back and even the sound of his scalp scraping against the rock was familiar.

 

Then he blinked, realizing that he'd just exposed his neck to a man who up until quite recently had wanted nothing more than to slice it open and the familiarity of their movements slipped out of his memory and he began to fight back. He knew what was going on here. He knew what samurai like Jin called this, what this would mean for him. This was shudo and it was a seriously loaded term - age and skill and station and dominance all figured into shudo and with Jin on top, pressing down on him, Mugen knew exactly which way the ronin wanted it. And fuck that.

 

He squirmed and slithered out from under him, body boneless and serpentine as he slipped away, twisting his wrists out of Jin's grip. Mugen had fucked a man before, one other time, when he was younger and still on the island. It was not uncommon in Ryukyu. Men seriously outnumbered women and the women weren't easy targets anyway. But that time had been an agreement, a meeting of two horny kids who'd only wanted to get off and then get going. He felt certain what Jin wanted required more, required Mugen to be a certain way, and Mugen had never taken kindly to anyone telling him how to be.

 

“-the fuck?” he bit out. “I ain't bendin' over for nobody, least of all you.”

 

Jin's features registered surprise for the barest second and Mugen wondered if he'd just made a very stupid mistake, but then the ronin's mouth and brow returned to familiar grim lines and he came forward again. Mugen stayed low, scrambling backwards over the rocks, not wanting to risk a fall.

 

“Mugen-” Jin started.

 

“I don't know where you got the idea that I wanted to be part'a some backwards, take-it-up-the-ass tradition-”

 

“-that's not what-”

 

“-'cause you're some sort'a...older brother or whatever, but I don't.”

 

“Mugen, stop.”

 

“Not 'til you quit comin' at me like that, lookin' at me like that. I said I didn't wanna kill you; doesn't mean I won't.”

 

“There's a nest of snakes behind you and you're about to put your left hand right on top of the mother.”

 

Mugen froze and then launched himself upright quicker than he'd done anything since he'd woken up from his injuries. He looked over his shoulder and for the first time heard the mother hissing, heard the sound of scales sliding over rock. He took two careful steps away, noting with relief that this was not a poisonous variety, that he recognized anyway. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, getting his fingers tangled. “Fuck,” he muttered, turning back to see Jin standing directly in front of him. Backed up between a nest of snakes and a nearly naked ronin, Mugen chose to stand still and work on extricating his fingers from his hair. They regarded each other in silence for several moments, Mugen ready to spring, Jin looking as though he were trying to concentrate two holes right through Mugen's eyeballs.

 

“You're speaking of shudo,” he finally murmured.

 

Mugen snorted, glad that someone - not him - had finally spoken. “Damn right. I know what it is, too; I ain't stupid.”

 

Jin's mouth twitched. “...no.” He looked away quickly, eyes sliding up to the cliff and then back. “I'll ask you again how it is that you could possibly know what I want.”

 

Mugen succeeded in untangling his fingers and pointed at the wet spot behind them, a vaguely Mugen and Jin-shaped wet spot. “That,” he said. “That right there was different and you can't tell me it wasn't. I know that language and I know what you wanted. But you- you-” He lost his train of thought when he followed where Jin's eyes had gone, up to the cliff toward their hut. He saw Fuu standing close to the edge, holding her hair out of her face, just watching them. He took a deep breath. “Have you been jerkin' her around this whole time, makin' her think that you...” He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be here. He didn't know what to do with this hands so he stuck them in his hair again. He was floundering, slipping down into dangerous water. “Fuckin'-a, man, what do you want?”