It wasn't enough to sit beside him...

Vous êtes Mon Favori

It wasn't enough to sit beside him—to be his traveling companion. Calling herself 'friend' would have been almost too charitable. He had never made such a claim in all the time they were together. Still…

Fuu buried her face in her hands and groaned wearily. The fire already warmed her cheeks, and now their shoulders were touching. There were so many things she wanted to say and do. This paltry contact between their limbs was driving her crazy and making her feel like a complete idiot.

This didn't go unnoticed.

"What's your problem?" He asked, resting his cheek on his shoulder and squinting at her through the murky firelight. For someone as rough around the edges as he was, his eyelashes were really quite long. She didn't want to talk about it, so she remained silent and turned her head the other way.

Honestly-- What kind of person was she, caring for an irresponsible idiot like him? Half-drunken, seedy looking, creepy… She could smell the flavor of sake on his tongue. Unfortunately, it only made her heart tighten. She was sure it'd make anybody else's stomach turn, and that's why she was so mad at herself.

There had to be something "…Wrong with your head…"

She turned back to glare at him feebly. "What was that?" His eyes reflected dancing firelight as he peered at her. Satisfied that he had her attention, he leaned closer. She swallowed hard as his hair almost brushed her cheek. His voice all but slithered out of his throat like a languid curl of smoke.

"I said—" He smelled like dirt, "There's something definitely wrong with your head."

"Whatever." Fuu tossed the insult aside. She really didn't want to get into tonight. Especially when Jin wasn't around to quell the impending fight. Speaking of which, "Why are you sitting so close anyway? You don't have to worry about sitting too close to Jin tonight." The fabric of her kimono sleeve rubbed against her arm as Mugen recoiled. There was a trace of awkward vulnerability in his posture before he moved back to her side—this time making sure to get extra close. Goosebumps spread over Fuu's arms as his pectoral muscles pressed into her.

"I just like to make you uncomfortable… Makes the time go faster!" He grinned fiendishly. All the while, Fuu was more worried over her heart. The proof of her flustered nervousness throbbed in her own ears, making them burn with blood. His breath, again, wasn't helping.

"Give me some of your sake." She demanded quietly, trying to shift gears a little bit. It almost worked. The look on his face initially was taken aback and filled with irritation, but as he realized that he could get something out of this request, that damn smile came creeping back.

"It's mine… Why should I give you any?" Fuu floundered for an answer; finally promising that whatever she drank would be paid back when they got jobs in the next town. This seemed like a good response as any, especially when leaned over to his pile of belongings and returned with the medium-sized bottle a moment later. "Leave some for me. That's my emergency stash." He said off-hand, watching as she uncorked the jug and tilted it back over her head.

The alcohol swam in her stomach an hour later as she pushed the jug towards Mugen a little too hard. He took it though, with an amused laugh that was low and gravelly. "Aren't I so nice? I left the last for yooou" She batted her eyelashes at him, unaware of the effect she was having on him.

"Oh maaan, yer just the nicest girl I know, aren'tcha!" Not caring if he was being kind of redundant. She snorted through her nose and poked him in the ribs as he drank the last of the sake. Mugen gasped, wiping the excess off his chin as he chucked the empty clay jug over his shoulder and scooped Fuu into his lap… Not such a stretch, as they had moved increasingly closer together as Fuu drank more and more.

Personally, Mugen was not more than a little cloudy around the eyes. His drinking experience made it harder for him to get inebriated, and most of his giddy behavior was a result of feeding off of Fuu's mood. It was no wonder the surprised squeak she released was followed by still more laughter. Even when his fingers brushed her neck and slid past the collar of her kimono, she only giggled and closed her eyes. She sighed happily as his hand rubbed the top of her back, head tilting forward even still. Mugen's hand reached in deeper and his fingers splayed out between her shoulder blades, the callused fingers pressing into her soft skin gently.

"Mugen…?" Fuu mumbled into her lap, her forehead touching to her bent knees. His lap was so warm… His hands… His soft grunt just above her as his other hand removed her hairpins and set them off to the side. Thick brown tresses tumbled in a curtain around her cheeks, and instantly his fingers were tangled in them. "Why…" She paused as his fingers massaged her scalp just right. "Why're you doin' this?" The hand that had been lost in her hair moved to her face, tracing her facial features clumsily.

"Instead of fuckin' ya senseless?" It was more a question he asked himself than her, but she responded affirmatively. He paused to think about it, and while he did removed his hand from Fuu's back. She sat up, her muscles stiff. Finally, with a certain resolve about him, he pulled her face to his and rubbed his cheek against hers. The stubble irritated Fuu's face a bit, but she was more bewildered by all this bizarre tenderness on her companion's part. He sighed in her ear and she shivered into his body.

He still hadn't answered.

She pointed this out in a hushed voice, and he said, "Yer my favorite…" Whatever that meant, Fuu was sure she understood. If not, she was close to, when she began registering his own features to memory with her small hands. He rested his forehead against the base of her neck and moved his shoulders as she pushed his red haori off. Her hands were on his wrists, feeling his tattoos and scars and he couldn't help but open his mouth against her skin. So soft, and slightly salty with sweat. He was spoiling himself, allowing for this to happen.

Afraid that he'd never get another chance to touch her, he'd definitely make sure that even decades from now, when they were out of each other's lives, he would remember just how good every bit of her body felt against his. His hands fisted the fabric of the pink kimono as her fingers passed over the small of his back to his hips.

He had gorgeous hips.

She rubbed his sides and moved to his chest, her hands pushing him until he was flat on his back. By that time, she had already switched so that she was sitting astride him, and did nothing more but cover his body with her own.

"We fit together!" Fuu marveled, nestling her head underneath his chin. Her hair was fanned out underneath her, tickling his bewildered face. All he could do was nod. "…You're my favorite, too." She finally whispered. She pressed further into him, her knee filling the gap between his legs and she pressed a firm kiss to his chin. It was an awkward kiss, but just the same, a kiss. It went plummeting straight to his stomach, where the heat from earlier explorations and sake were already simmering.

When he said she was his favorite, he really meant it—he was doing something terrible to his reputation by just laying here on the ground, her small frame covering his. If Jin had happened to be there, if there was no sake to drink, if it had been somebody else, there's no way he could have ever been seduced into this blind act of tenderness.

But it seemed that circumstance really was a powerful thing, after all.

The End.

By Francoise Brel.

Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai Champloo.

A/N: Sorry if this was too out of character for some. I just wanted to do a Champloo story that felt a bit more unconventional. I might do another chapter that continues this moment into where they get bizzzaaay, but if I don't… Just assume that this is the tasteful fade to black before the deed is done.

Thanks!