Author's note: I have always wanted to write a fic for Mushishi and one specifically revolving Suzu from The Pretense of Spring and Ginko because I found the idea of their relationship interesting. That said, I haven't watched Mushishi in so long. So characterization will probably be off, but really I only wanted to play around with the feeling. So please enjoy.

Suzu sat at the entrance of her home to watch the rainfall. She closed her eyes and smelled the rain saturating everything it touched. When she opened them again, she looked up at the gray skies and thought about Miharu playing somewhere on the mountain with the animals and the mushi. She always worried about him even though he could probably handle mushi better than she ever could, but that was just her nature. As she stood up to go back to whatever chore she wished she didn't have, she leaned onto the doorframe to smile at the rain.

"You know staring at that rain any longer is just going to make you more wistful," he said.

Suzu gasped when she noticed him- that man with the white hair who was always smoking. Ginko. He held his jacket over his head and smirked. Suzu ran to him and felt herself about to cry. She had waited several years for him to always return, but this moment felt less real than the dreams she had of him.

"Suzu…" Ginko said.

"Ginko! You're here to see Miharu?" Suzu said.

Ginko shrugged and pulled his cigarette out of his mouth. He coolly blew out the smoke before scratching his head.

"Not really. I'm actually passing through. But…"

Ginko looked up at the rain and then at Suzu.

"You know," he said.

"Well, you're always welcomed here," Suzu said.

"Thanks. So where's Miharu?"

"In the mountains. He'll probably be back by dinnertime. I'm sure he'll be excited to see you. To tell you all about what he's seen since you left."

They went inside the humble house and sat awkwardly around the hearth while listening to the rain.

"I don't get how you can live here," Ginko said.

"Huh?" Suzu said.

"It's cold and depressing in winter. And summer is hot and humid. But I guess that means spring and autumn are way more beautiful here."

"I guess so. I haven't really thought of it like that. I like everything though. I like the way spring smells. I like how this place lights up in green leaves during the summer, and I like how those leaves blaze red and almost glow in fall. I even like how the snow glitters in the sun on the coldest days. This place… it's a part of me."

Ginko smiled and leaned back on his hands. He looked outside from the open doors and simply nodded.

"It must be really nice. To be here," Ginko said.

"Really? But didn't you just say-"

"I mean, I wish I could live in one spot all the time. The mushi are always following me. So I'm doomed to live the life of a nomad."

"Yeah… you told me that once before. Or something like that."

"Actually… that time I was here… that was the best time I've had in a while. It felt normal or at least what I imagined to be normal."

"But what about your fam-"

"Suzu!"

Miharu ran inside and shook his wet head. Ginko chuckled and looked at Suzu with her exasperated face. This. He missed this.

"Oh hey! It's Ginko! Check this out!" Miharu said.

Miharu pulled out his knapsack and stuck his hand inside before pulling out a long mushi that wrapped around his arm.

"Miharu! Get that thing out of here!" Ginko said.

Suzu giggled. Even though she couldn't see what Miharu or Ginko saw, she enjoyed how Ginko handled Miharu's uninhibited curiosity. She snuck out to start dinner. As she rinsed rice, she could hear Ginko chastise Miharu but almost way too lovingly. Suzu peered over her shoulder and made a small smile as Ginko pulled something from his coat and showed it to Miharu.

After they had finished eating dinner, Suzu found herself washing dishes and humming songs to her self. Before she could finish another dish, Ginko had silently walked in and stood beside Suzu. He nudged her aside and started to wash the dishes, handing her a bowl to dry.

"I don't remember my family," Ginko said.

"You don't remember them? Or you don't have them?" Suzu said.

"I don't know. I don't remember a lot from when I was a child. It was like I just woke up and just was. So being here… that was the closest that I've come to really having something like a family. And… I don't know why I told you that."

"Maybe you've always wanted to tell someone that."

"Maybe. But I missed this."

Suzu could feel the tears start to slide down her face. She turned her face aside in embarrassment. Ginko's calloused thumb wiped the tears. It didn't matter to Suzu. She still felt her face burn up and a desire to just disappear. She always loved him even if he didn't know. She remembered each day he was in her home and how happy it made her feel to have someone near her- someone she felt trust and admiration for.

"I'm sorry," Suzu said.

"Don't be," Ginko said.

Suzu stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Ginko's. She resented being so forward as Ginko turned from her.

"You must know then," Suzu said.

Suzu looked defiantly up at Ginko- his one eye staring at her, almost boring. He didn't respond. Instead he shifted and thought about all of the things he wanted but never could have. Like a lot of his friends or the people he knew, he was lonely and felt forced into solitude at times. He of course knew that Suzu loved him. He would have had to be an idiot to not know. He would never let her know, but he returned the same sentiment. He cherished the feeling of being wanted in a way outside of his normal mushi master duties. But he also understood the danger of that.

Before Ginko had the mind to address Suzu, she had already left. Ginko finished the dishes and looked for Suzu. Instead, he only saw Miharu playing with a vial of mushi.

"Suzu went to her room," Miharu said.

"Thanks… Also, that mushi… don't open that vial. Okay? It's dangerous. Not dangerous in that it will kill you. It's… Actually. It's a hassle. So don't open it," Ginko said.

Through the dark halls of the home, Ginko wandered about. He knew where Suzu's room was. He had been there once. He couldn't remember why. Ginko could only recall it was because Miharu had a mushi that he wanted to show that he stored in the room. Ginko stopped in front of he room. Suzu's sobbing could be heard through the door. He tapped on the doorframe before sliding it open. Suzu stood there in the dark. Her sleeves were soaked in tears. Ginko closed the door behind him and carefully stepped towards Suzu. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held her flush to his body.

"There's a lot that I can't have. You know that. Right?" Ginko said.

"I know, but I can't help it. I want to keep you here," Suzu said.

"And I want that too."

"Then just stay with me."

Their palms touched, and Ginko's fingers wove between Suzu's, clasping them. For Suzu, the next moments seemed too fast and too slow all at once. She wanted to ask Ginko if that was something that had to deal with mushi or if she was just too silly and hopeless- a woman desperately clawing at whatever grasps of her lover she could get. He was all too tender with her, letting her touch where her curiosity guided her and trying to get every memory to imprint upon their souls. He only wanted to make sure that she never left his mind or heart.

Suzu woke to the sound of rain tapping on the rooftop. She lay wrapped in blankets, staring at the rafters. She heard the shuffling beside her and smiled as an arm wrapped around her. She turned on her side to face Ginko. He sheepishly smiled and pressed his forehead against hers.

"I have to leave soon," Ginko said.

Suzu stared at his unnaturally green-blue eye and traced over his lips before stopping right over them.

"Don't say it," Suzu said.

"And what about tomorrow? Or when this week ends?"

"I'm not a fool. I know you will leave me, and I'll hurt just as much when you leave. But that doesn't mean I can't be entitled to this bit of selfishness."

Somewhere in the mountains live a woman and her young child. Every year in spring, they wait for a man to pass on by their home.

"Then how about this, I'll visit it you every year. It will be just us."

When he comes back to stay, he tells their little one all about the strange and wondrous things of the world and gives all the love he can to her and his wife.

"Promise?"

"Always."

And when it comes time for her husband to leave her, she holds him tight and tells him that love always comes back to her.

"I think I already can't wait for spring."

"Spring? I don't recall saying that."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Just that it isn't soon enough."

For he carries a part of her heart with him wherever he goes, and a part of his heart stays in the one place he could ever call home- her. Only to become whole again.