Chapter 24- Even If It Kills Me

X X X X

"…and we're seeing a steady rise in traffic congestion in light of an unseasonable storm originating from the Gulf of Mexico, stumping meteorologists and analysts alike. It's predicted this hurricane could develop into a Category 2 quite possibly within the hour. Again, it is strongly advised to remain indoors away from windows or other hazardous structures until further notice, so please stay tuned for up-to-the-minute news. The storm is expected to affect the following areas within the East Baton Rouge parish…"

A muted sigh escaped the frustrated store owner. Business had slowed to a trickle recently and having to close shop because of a storm that decided to poof into existence to further deprive her of income was grossly ironic. Hurricane season wasn't supposed to begin for another two months at the very least and here was one getting a head start on wreaking havoc. Without even attempting to curb her aggravation, she picked through several more pages in one of the better selling magazines from her inventory while the voice on the radio wrapped up her extensive coverage of the worsening weather, the evidence of which could be heard colliding into the windows of the storefront. Another five or ten minutes and she'd have to surrender and start packing up. Only a complete flake would be roaming around at a time like this anyway, and if there hadn't been a single customer all day why should she expect one now?

Had she been a particularly religious woman, though, the next moment would have been the answer to her prayers. The storm door flew open with a crash, making her instinctively reach below the counter for the trusty Winchester lying patiently below. Experience had taught her that the only time a door opened that way was when the person or people behind it had ill intentions.

"You best state your business now, bustin' in here like some kinda-"

"Cram it lady. You got somethin' I need."

The man was hooded and thoroughly soaked, rainwater encircling him where he stood in a mass puddle. Head cocked low, he slammed a random denomination of wet cash onto the counter as she maintained a cautious distance from him, ensuring the weapon was easily within her reach should she wind up needing it. With hesitation, she pinched the soggy bill between her fingers.

"And what, pray tell, would that be mister?"

He murmured something quickly, as if it pained him to speak.

"I'm afraid I'll hafta ask ya to speak up."

"I said…I need…those things…" he struggled.

"I have a lot of things here, sir. What thing in particular are you lookin' for?"

"Those things you women use when you're….you know…"

Wind swept through the street with a powerful whoosh, carrying every scrap of garbage to be found along with it as cans and bottles rapped with hollow strikes against the sidewalk. In contrast, a smooth jazz number flowed from the speakers of the little boombox sitting behind the counter, its sultry notes entirely oblivious to the impending squall.

With a knowing smile, the portly woman tied her greasy locks into a stout ponytail.

"Yeah, we got sanitary napkins. What size you need?" she asked with as straight a face as she could manage.

"How in hell would I know? I don't use 'em!"

"I meant the lucky lady in question."

"Uh, small I guess. She's pretty puny. And snap it up, I don't got all day."

Just as eager to put an end to this unpleasant exchange, the storekeeper disappeared into a distant isle and promptly emerged bearing the dreaded item he was to purchase. Not even giving her the chance to reach the register again, he swiped the pack away with the swiftness of a famished seagull and melted into the curtain of water outside. She chuckled and shook her head as she set the money aside to dry, wondering if what they said about God having a sense of humor was true after all.

Fuu cowered nervously in a corner, lying as flat to the ground as possible as if this would save her from being swept away if the storm grew much stronger.

"Sounds like a tornado's brewing out there, doesn't it?" she spoke softly to Momo, who licked her hand as if she had marinated it in tuna water.

He had been gone too long. If this had been a normal day with normal, predictable weather, there would have been no need to be even mildly concerned; she could have just dismissed it as Mugen being Mugen. But as was her custom during times of distress, perceived or otherwise, irrational fears began surfacing little by little. A chill ran through her as cold rain dripped down between the gaps above, doubling her discomfort as she fought to ignore the growing ache pulsing within her abdomen.

Normally, thoughts whirled through her mind in constant motion like autumn leaves in the wind, never settling in one place for very long. They had somehow ceased though, and she was indifferent as to the cause. Over time she had developed quite a talent for distracting herself with improvised stories or arbitrary questions about whatever attracted her curiosity, but all that occupied her brain now was this moment: the bellows of pitiless winds and the collapse of ancient trees unable to withstand them. She never thought that nature could be this volatile without warning, even having lived through the infamously mutable climate of her native land. The last rain spell she had gotten caught in came to mind now and it was a paltry drizzle compared to this. She doubted Mugen would be able to see well enough to find his way back.

The metal objects outside squealed sharply as harsh gusts assaulted them and a frightful rattling shot from what was probably the swing set. The very walls around her groaned as if they would be torn away at the slightest ounce of pressure. Each time she was sure the wind would carry her away, it seemed to die down just enough to give her a false sense of security. Toying with her. At times she could go so far as to assume the storm was deliberately choosing to pass her by, saving her for later as a finishing gulp to quench its thirst for destruction. Holding the kitten closer as if he would somehow have the ability to shield her, she closed her eyes.

Why was he doing this?

The answer was irrelevant at this point. Everyone was entitled to plummet to the lowest levels of idiocy at least once in his or her lifetime, and this just happened to be his chance to stake that claim.

Mugen strained against the gale opposing his every step, nearly blind from the endless volumes of water cascading down on him. This was just a taste of what was to come; the real beast had yet to be unleashed and he just needed to reach Fuu in time. No, to hell with her. He just needed to move his ass to anyplace that wasn't being flooded to the hills.

A random assortment of items flew past at regular intervals, only complicating his journey further as he did his best to avoid being thrashed by whatever wasn't securely bolted in place. More than once he was knocked clear off his feet, clinging to the nearest lamp post or rail until the wind subsided enough to allow movement again. Numerous opportunities to escape had presented themselves, but as badly as he wanted to throw in the towel and find a cave to dive into, abandoning Fuu seemed unthinkable. What would she do if he didn't show up? He brushed an ugly thought from his mind as he inched past what might have been a leg belonging to the rusty old crab guarding the face of the seafood restaurant he had pointed out to Fuu weeks before. Just a bit further.

Misery smothered her. If she wasn't so wet, cold, and in pain she would have gladly vented her troubles into her diary, which she prayed wouldn't be too badly damaged by the time this was all over. A sudden shrill howl of wind made her shout as it whistled through the nooks and crannies of her humble little castle of rope and lumber.

Wrapping Momo up with the front of her threadbare shirt, she shivered and did her best to ignore the fact that she had bled straight through the layered strips of material she cut from one of the spare sacks Koza had packed for them. The wind picked up once again, far more furiously than before. Something heavy slammed dangerously close to where she currently lay; to her relief, whatever it was had failed to break through.

And then, just barely cutting through the turbulence, was his voice. He punched the board urgently, yelling for her to open up. Awful words were fired from behind the shabby wood as she hurried to untie it, fumbling and shaking anxiously as she did.

A sorry sight was revealed to her. There he was, teeth bared and clenched, clearly using everything in his possession to avoid being carried off. With one arm locked around the sliding pole, he worked his free hand into the pouch of his saturated clothing and with difficulty hurled the package inside. Meanwhile, palm leaves- ripped from trees perhaps a mile away- swirled past him like shredded ribbon. Fuu pushed herself forward, crawling against the force determined to send her flying back. Her heart raced wildly as she reached for him.

"Get back! Stay inside!" he hollered, batting her hand away as he blinked the water from his eyes. If he so much as breathed the wrong way, he'd easily lose his grip. To prevent this, he wrapped himself around the object in the off chance that he could hold this position until the storm relented. Unabated, Fuu attempted a number of times to grab hold of him, being bitterly scolded each time.

"You wanna die?" he squawked, chucking her arm aside.

"Do you?" she called above the roar of the storm.

He seemed to think the question over, staring at her in stony silence. She gaped back, waiting for an answer. Somehow, there was a morbid loveliness about the way the water slid down his spiked bangs, falling from his face in rivulets as the flesh of his neck grew taut from the strain of hanging onto dear life. Or perhaps life was not so dear. Perhaps instinct was acting in place of reason, the latter of which might have whispered in his ear to just let go. The voice he probably would have listened to if she wasn't giving him that look right now.

He slipped, the skin of his palm squeaking against slick metal. Rain dropped harder in a sudden violent rush, bolts of lightening etched into the sky like cracks on a fallen vase.

At that moment, Fuu wondered how many other people were in the same boat they were, knowing full well that there weren't any and that for whatever reason it had been predetermined that the difficulty of their lives would peak upon crossing each other's paths like a bad chemical reaction.

He slipped again, cursing as his body was jerked about and fighting to keep hold with one hand. Standing now, Fuu partially threw herself around his shoulders, gripping the edge of the entrance. He smirked.

"You're the biggest damn idiot alive, you know that?" he mumbled into her ear.

With that, a rough shove sent her hurtling back.

Another squeak of skin against water.

He was gone.

Rolling thunder echoed beyond the mountains. If it hadn't been for her voice piercing the air, not a sound would be heard otherwise. The girl had no other choice but to temporarily give up; her throat was practically raw from calling for him for so long. For most, the possibility of a fatality would have been real enough to quash whatever hope there may have been in finding such a missing person intact, let alone at all. No such possibility existed to her, though. Someone like Mugen did not just simply accept defeat, even when pitted against the very forces of nature itself. Evidence of his humanity was scare enough as it was and there was even less of his mortality. He had survived. There wasn't an alternative.

Fuu trudged through the muddied grounds, the earth squishing with every step. She shuddered slightly as she passed through the once pristine scenery of the park. Everything was twisted, overturned, wrecked, or missing entirely. Branches littered the area like dismembered limbs in a warzone.

A sudden cry of alarm from the depths of her shirt redirected her attention. Without realizing, she had been smothering the poor animal into her bosom to the point of nearly asphyxiating him.

"Sorry Momo" she said hoarsely, relocating him to one of the emptier bags she carried.

As she progressed through the gnarled chaos all around, Fuu eventually convinced herself that this was not the last they would see of nature's anger. There was no perceptible evidence to suggest this, but the ordeal was imprinted into her memory now and had little chance of fading with time. As silly as the notion was, she would probably go the rest of her life expecting the heavens to part and wash the world away once and for all like a villain exacting sweet revenge. It was a marvel how people could tolerate these things.

Her search would be frequently interrupted by the need for rest; a pervading weakness took hold of her from time to time that defied explanation. She ruled out lack of eating because they had dined well the night before on a mixed banquet of purchased and purloined items that made the first full meal they had seen in days. Ascribing the strange sensation to either stress or her current female condition, Fuu sallied forth. In short time, however, she was forced to stop again, taking a seat on a small uprooted tree lying at the threshold of the stretch of woods just ahead.

So Mugen had done another good deed and his reward this time around was being catapulted to the boonies. No wonder the guy was so irritable; he could have probably cured cancer or achieved world peace by now if life didn't have such a vendetta against him. She considered how he looked just before disappearing, seeming almost satisfied that he had taken the insane risk of soldiering through a hurricane just to get her a box of pads. That kind of thing just doesn't happen in real life, she thought. It was something one might stumble across in a work of fiction maybe, but no man willingly does something that perfectly stupid unless…no. It was clear that he felt about as much love for her as a nun does for a pentagram in the holy water. There had to be some other motive behind these seemingly noble actions. It was silly to believe that he actually cared about her, but it was worse to think the opposite when the evidence was staring her dead in the eye. Maybe he was just using her as a pawn to win back karma points for living a debauched life. Whatever the reason, she felt grateful to have him at her side, if only for a while.

March 11th, 2007

Had to take a break. It's been almost two days and there's no sign of him. I was sure he'd be around here somewhere but I guess I was wrong. Please don't let me be wrong.

March 12th (midday?)

Trying to make the food last but I'm not sure how much control I can muster. There are berries, acorns, and little else to eat and I'm not sure what's safe and what isn't. Momo caught a chipmunk and I tried so hard not to cry as he started chewing its tiny legs…but I couldn't stop him either because I have nothing left to feed him. If only I could flip the switch on my emotions like some people.

March 12th (evening)

It isn't really so bad here as long as you come prepared, which I don't think I am. I have no way of finding out what kind of animals live here so you can just imagine how it feels tiptoeing around, never knowing what can jump out at you at any moment. It's much, much worse than trying to find a phone in the dark on a rocking boat, trust me.

I made my first fire, but it sure took a while. The next time I get marooned in the middle of the woods I'll make sure to bring a lighter with me. They make it look so easy on TV using just your palms and a few sticks but you may have an easier time getting blood from stone. And to think there was a time I actually wanted to see what camping was like!

But poor Mugen…I shouldn't be writing about such stupid things when he could be out there injured or worse.

Hope I find him soon.

The blood was still warm on her hands as she watched the carcass-in-progress with disbelief. It kicked and squirmed as it lay dying and she wished very much for it to speed the process up; each moment it languished there was another moment she flinched inside.

Her mind flew into instant replay: there it was, the Goliath of Boars, sniffing at the body. Testing the flesh with its teeth, prodding with its tusks. It was surely three times her weight but that didn't stop her. How could she let it eat him? So she had taken the sharpest thing she could find and drove it straight into its piggy jugular, having little idea what a jugular was but feeling fairly certain it was not a great place to have a yard-long splintered tree branch plowed into. The animal charged and thrashed in a murderous rage for a good minute before collapsing. She hadn't put any thought into the attack. She had simply identified danger and reacted accordingly.

The pile of debris the beast had discovered twitched. She hurried over to it, scooping mud and leaves away to expose a hand. Then an arm. Then a face. Fuu's shoulders dropped with relief as he looked up at her, not with the milky gaze of death but with an impish grin only a mad rush of testosterone and adrenaline could produce.

"Gotta do that again sometime," Mugen announced faintly as he slowly emerged from his mucky tomb. It was a miracle he wasn't in pieces, this fact fortified by his resolve to hobble around without assistance. He resembled something from a 1950s monster movie, having all the classic makings of a swamp creature as a collection of twigs and other plant matter coated every inch of him.

Fuu shook her hands briskly in the deepest puddle available, watching as the light brown liquid gradually changed to a cloudy garnet.

"Which part, soaring above the trees or almost becoming dinner?" she asked, still amazed he could even stand.

"Whaddaya mean?" he returned, occupied with peeling a petrified salamander from his forearm. He dangled it by its tail, inquisitively scrutinizing the wriggling critter as if considering whether it would make a suitable snack. The two locked gazes, the amphibian's beady eyes seeming to beg for compassion and Mugen's seeming to relish this short-term position of absolute authority over another living being.

"Meh…" he shrugged with sudden boredom, pitching his tiny hostage over his shoulder like chewed gum. Fuu frowned as it bounced off of a tree trunk and scurried into the safety of the foliage.

"You keep that up and you're going to earn yourself a big shiny ticket to hell, Mugen."

The man sneezed, sending a stream of mud and snot into the ground. Upon opening his eyes again, he finally caught sight of the pig, its body bulging like a wart from the land's surface. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the slain animal.

"Looks like ya covered that trip for us both, eh?"

She combed her fingers through the tangled mess that was her hair, tying it back as neatly as she could manage before rising and joining him in observing the corpse. With arms crossed, she paced around it several times to make sure it was still dead, perhaps under the impression that hogs had a nasty habit of reanimating post mortem.

"So what now?" she asked with a tired voice.

"Porkchops," he replied with a swiftness implying that the answer should have been obvious.

Fuu resisted the wave of nausea that followed.

Neither one having experience in butchery, the subsequent two hours dragged by all too slowly as Mugen mutilated their supper, armed with only steely courage and the utility knife Fuu had handed him, looking in all directions but down as he sliced and hacked away.

"This is some nasty shit…" he grunted, hitting bone as he attempted to wrestle a cutlet free.

"You're the one who came up with the brilliant idea of eating the thing, I told you we should have found something else."

He stopped and peered over his shoulder, up to the elbows in gore.

"Yeah, like what? Why don't you go and find somethin' else then?"

"I should have let him eat YOU, then all our problems would be solved, wouldn't they?"

Eyes rolling hard, he returned to his gruesome labor.

"Another word outta ya and this job's gonna be all yours, babe. Keep runnin' that mouth."

To his wonder, she didn't. Instead, she paced for a long while in silence until she could no longer take the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching ligaments so that she got to work building what would make her second fire, creating as much noise as possible to drown out what Mugen was doing.

"Man, what the hell did you use on this thing, a harpoon launcher?" he remarked, trying unsuccessfully to wrench the branch out.

"I don't see how it matters since we're not using anything from that part of the pig" she sighed, on the verge of throwing a fit after failing to get a single spark going.

Momo crawled out of his bag, sniffing the air cautiously as he watched his human friends. After giving himself the all-clear, he waddled up to Fuu and planted his fluffy posterior onto the driest patch of ground he could find to observe her.

"Hey, every bit counts. Those days of silver platters and lobster dinners are over."

"Well you can dine on pork heads if you want but I'll pass," she answered stubbornly.

Their banter screeched to a halt as the sky expressed its disapproval with a crash from afar. From that point forward, not another word was uttered as efforts were doubled and hands worked with new diligence.

A mighty belch shot through the forest, causing Momo to wake and Fuu to shake her head.

"So how's it feel to be a cannibal?" she inquired mockingly, gesturing to the partially skeletal remains of their meal. They had taken as much as they could for one night, hoping the rest would remain salvageable in case they could devise a way to preserve the meat.

Mugen yawned, falling back against the sturdy oak behind him and rubbing his bloated belly with half-shut eyes.

"Seriously, put a lid on it. It ain't cute anymore."

"Who said I was trying to be cute?"

"God, do you ever shut up? Why don't women come with OFF buttons…"

"We can't, we're too busy making sure you men don't screw everything up."

Mugen seemed more alert now, but astoundingly less eager for battle.

"Yeah, how's that bleeding thing goin' for ya?"

Hushed by a surge of embarrassment, she settled down.

"Like you care…"

He brushed excess grime from his face and hands, discovering some fresh cuts and bruises from his latest violent encounter. The nightly soundtrack he had grown accustomed to was noticeably lacking as he dealt with the wearying task of arguing with a menstruating woman.

"I don't, just thought I'd remind ya how we wound up here."

"Well I saved your life, so we're even now. Don't even try to throw that in my face."

Finding little joy in retaliating, Mugen stretched out onto his side, looking like a dirty old hound neglected by its master. Although it was difficult staying upset with him, she disliked being put into awkward positions that left her pitying him in some way as if she were dealing with a perpetually naughty child who she had no other choice but to forgive. She watched as he dozed in and out like a flickering light that couldn't decide between staying on or off. His eyes never seemed to miss her each time they opened, though.

"You know this has to end eventually, right?" he stated lethargically, wisps of embers curling and darting past his face, highlighting stained skin and disastrously soiled hair. It was hard to take the somber statement seriously when all she could see in front of her was an icky version of Einstein. Sighing, she rummaged through each of the bags until she discovered a comb, now missing teeth, and one of the few washcloths to survive the horrid trip so far.

"Well not before you at least get cleaned up. You look like something that crawled out of a dumpster," she informed him as she approached, wondering where to even begin. Choosing an area of his head at random, she dabbed the comb into some water and got to it.

"I'm fine," he protested.

She proceeded regardless, extracting an interesting variety of things she couldn't for the life of her understand the presence of.

"How did you get a gummy bear in there?" she twittered to herself with awe.

"I said I'm fine, lay off…"

Fuu's brow creased in deep concentration as she tried prying the tenacious candy from his scalp, making him yelp.

"Shit! What do you think I am, one'a your stupid dolls? Watch it!"

She smiled inside, filled with a passing sense of mischief as she continued the compulsory grooming session.

"Ya might as well stop now before I end up bald" he continued, flopping around and settling again not much further from where he originally lay.

"You'd look a heck of a lot better than you do now, that's for sure."

Mugen surrendered; he didn't bother to let her know about it the next time she pulled too hard or scraped too roughly. By the time she had finished working out every mat, knot, and tangle, he was practically asleep. As she ran the cloth along every visible area of his body, she realized that they had just about run out of usable drinking water. They would have to keep moving tomorrow if there was any hope of securing more.

"Wait a sec…" he said suddenly.

Disappointed that he was awake again, she paused.

"Yes?"

He rubbed his eye with a closed fist.

"Isn't that supposed to be like a once-a-month thing?"

"You really woke up just to ask me that?"

He moved away slightly, readjusting an arm beneath his head.

"It's weird, is all. How come you're just gettin' it now and not before?"

"How come you're so interested? That's pretty weird too. Creepy, actually."

"Whatever…"

She hardly saw the need to share such personal information but decided that whatever topic didn't result in a yelling match was probably a safe bet, even if discussing it made her a little queasy.

"I have a disorder," she said plainly.

"So that makes you some kinda freak then?"

She dragged the rag over an open wound on his palm, making him wince.

"Yes Mugen, it does. Are we done?

"Nah, havin' too much fun with this."

In actuality, he tended to delight in the suffering of others, however small the matter. Although possessing enough self-awareness to recognize these mild bouts of sadism, he couldn't really help himself. Even so, it felt a little wrong having such feelings toward Fuu and he made a modest attempt to correct this with a statement that took them both for a loop.

"So guess you can never have kids then."

Fuu was rarely taken aback anymore by the man's words or actions, but this one would probably reign supreme for a long while. Where could he be going with this?

"I guess not…"

He rubbed his eyes again, watching as Momo scampered around the campsite chasing insects.

"Must suck," he said.

Fuu plucked the last fragment of debris from his hair and discarded it.

"I don't see how, I'm too young to even be thinking about that stuff anyway."

"Won't be seventeen forever, gotta get a man sometime. Probably would help if you weren't such a b-"

"A what?" she growled, eyes narrowing.

"Nothin'."

Momo produced a feeble hiss, swatting his paws wildly at something neither of them could see. Flustered, the kitten about-faced and marched over to the flattest stone there was and curled up on it to pout.

"Anyway, I had a boyfriend once" she said, deciding to take the opportunity to experiment with previously unexplored territory.

"Yeah, had. Sure know how to pick 'em."

"Jin wasn't my boyfriend. He was hardly even a friend."

When Mugen didn't probe any further, she volunteered additional details for the sake of keeping the conversation going.

"Actually, it was someone I met during a winter tour a few years ago. Of course I had to keep it a secret and he eventually got tired of hiding the relationship so it didn't last very long."

Mugen scoffed.

"You were still a kid, what relationship? Musta been an imaginary friend."

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

He flicked a pebble into the darkness of the woods beyond.

"So didja fuck 'im?"

Fuu shuddered; he was really on a roll tonight. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to crown a winner for Bizarre Question of the Year. And evidently the chat was veering far off course into waters she wasn't willing to tread.

"What is wrong with you? I'm not answering that!"

He shrugged as if the question had been a perfectly reasonable one.

Her plan backfired. She had wanted to test him and instead opened a can of worms that should never have been opened. Now she felt bad for inventing such a ridiculous story. Discomfort quickly setting in, she scuttled away to join Momo, now snoring blissfully and perhaps catching beetles in his dreams.

"You are such a bad liar," Mugen chuckled softly, tossing a few more leaves into the fire to prevent it from burning out.

The following morning arrived rather uneventfully, something that could have had Fuu doing cartwheels if only she felt up to it. Rest had eluded her most of the night, the danger of prowling wildlife or another surprise storm looming too heavily over her head to let her do anything but fidget the time away until daybreak. It was mind-blowing how Mugen managed to snooze without a care in the world after experiencing what should have been a traumatic event just hours earlier.

The air was humid and immensely thick, causing her to nod off; the steady hum of flies only served to lull her to sleep even faster as she struggled to remain awake, feeling like a flea swimming through molasses as she gradually succumbed. She couldn't quite tell, but she may have hit something on the way down.

With each step, it was becoming obvious that there would be nothing remotely reptilian to add to the photo album yet. A catalogue of squirrels, sparrows, frogs and one proud stag graced the pages of the newly purchased book, but not so much as a turtle had been kind enough to strike a pose for the camera.

It was the buzzing that distracted him, but the odor that compelled him. Abandoning his quest for cold-blooded beasties for the moment, the explorer tucked the brochure in his hands away and followed his ears. If he was fortunate, perhaps he would discover a bear vandalizing a beehive for the succulent treat inside. It would be the showpiece of his collection.

Instead of this idyllic storybook scene, there was blood. Lots of blood. And a smell so putrid the man pulled the souvenir shirt he wore up over his face to prevent it from further assaulting his nostrils. Accompanying this fragrance was a blanket of flies dancing upon a massacred pig…or what was left of it. Most astounding of all, however, were the people sprawled directly beside this repulsive atrocity, one lying flat on his belly while the other seemed to have passed out face first into one of his open hands. Unsure of exactly what he had stumbled across and praying the two were simply friendly hillbillies taking a mid-morning siesta, he carefully stepped forward for a closer look.

"Dah…'ello?" he called softly.

When no sign of life occurred, he attempted to prod one out of them. It was no use.

By now, he feared the worst. In one last desperate attempt to rouse them, he inhaled a hearty volume of air and bawled,

"YOU TWO VAKE UP NOW, JA? IS VAKEY UP TIME NOW!"

A harmonious pair of screams returned his call, the female clamoring in a clear state of confusion as the male withdrew a small blade from his sleeve, swishing it about like a hyperactive pirate.

"Back off asshole or so help me God I'll have your sack for a trophy!" Mugen warned, his vision still in the process of focusing.

Fuu, meanwhile, was pinned back against the nearest tree, eyes fixed on the stranger like a rabbit in the crosshairs.

The man sighed, giving them a broad, goofy smile as his blue eyes twinkled.

"You guys give me big scare! I am thinking you are dead or something, good to see you are not!" he declared with exuberance. He may as well have won the lottery.

Mugen snorted, rolling to his knees as Fuu coughed from the stink permeating the area.

The man extended a tremendous hand.

"You come vith me and have big morning food, ja? I pay vith American dollars!"

Fuu looked over to Mugen, who looked over at her.

"Do not be vith ze shy! What are you two calling yourselves?" the giant asked.

Fuu, ever eager to forge friendships, answered sheepishly,

"I'm Fu-…"

Mugen shot a chilly look her way, daring her to finish the word.

"-uuuulinda. Fuulinda!" she blurted.

The man blinked. Fuu gulped.

"That is beautiful name!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands together, "Come, we eat pancakes now!" He gestured for them to follow as he turned to get a head start back to town, red ponytail wagging with each happy stride.

Mugen was already pushing past her with a limp, handing over the bag containing Momo as he shouldered the rest.

"Come on Fuulinda, if you're a good girl ya might get a treat later."

Fuu breathed in deeply, relaxing her muscles as she fantasized of drowning him in a bottomless vat of syrup.