Cold Night
A Samurai Champloo mini-fic
"Jin?" nudge, nudge. "Are you awake, Jin?"
Jin opened tired eyes to peer blearily at a shivering Fuu.
"I'm cold, Jin," she whispered.
Wordlessly, Jin stoked the fire and passed her his blanket. Fuu hesitated, glancing at him uncertainly, before accepting the blanket with a grateful smile.
"Better?" Jin finally asked as Fuu finished burrowing into her newly heated nest of blankets. She nodded almost imperceptibly as she drifted back to sleep.
He studied her for a moment, then glanced at their third companion. Mugen was sprawled out messily and snoring loudly. That idiot slept like the dead and had managed to kick his blanket almost completely off. It still clung pitifully to one foot. Jin almost felt remorse as he appropriated the unused blanket, but instead he just went back to sleep himself.
"Mugen?" jab, jab. "Are you awake, Mugen?"
Mugen rolled away from the stick that Fuu was insistently prodding him with.
"I'm cold, Mugen!" she whined loudly.
Mugen rolled back toward her and the fire, cracking an eye open. Jin was off somewhere. No wonder. Fuu was shivering and shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Mugen glanced at the fire and the complete lack of extra wood. There didn't seem to be any stocked nearby. He eyed Fuu, irritated, as she prodded him again with the stick. Sighing, he reached out and caught her arm as she poked him, dragged her down against himself, and tossed her stick into the fire.
Fuu screeched indignantly, immediately squirming around and elbowing him. Mugen patiently caught one arm and then the other and huffed tiredly into her hair "You're warm now, aren't you? Quit your bitching and go back to sleep." He felt her shocked surprise and then grudging recognition in the tension that slowly left her body. Moments later she had relaxed into bonelessly trusting softness and sleep. Mugen sighed again, adjusting her in his arms until he was more comfortable and passed back out.
Mugen woke briefly a few hours later when Jin stumbled in on an icy blast of air. He met Jin's implacable gaze with a bland expression of his own. Restlessly cuddling closer to him, Fuu broke the mounting tension-effortlessly and unconsciously as always.
"She's cold," Mugen mumbled, slipping back into sleep, "close the door."
Jin quirked an eyebrow, but shut the door wordlessly. Setting the down the fresh batch of firewood that he had cut and gathered, Jin evaluated the new situation and sighed quietly. If nothing else, at least it meant that he got the extra blankets.