It's Not About The Words
Written by: kohee
Fandom: Flame of Recca
Pairing: Mikagami/Fuuko
Genre: General/Romance
Disclaimer: Don't own, how sad. Italicized words at the beginning and end of the story are stolen and modified from the song Across The Universe, written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

like a restless wind inside a letter box
they
tumble blindly as
they make their way

-----

Mikagami opened the door to his apartment, only to see Fuuko sprawled on his couch in the living room, reading a magazine. She was wearing a miniskirt and it was hiked around her thighs in a decidedly very unlady-like manner. He scowled, closing the door and hanging up his jacket. "Kirisawa. Would it kill you to not sit like a monkey?"

"Why, how nice to see you, too." She chirped, not lifting her eyes from her magazine and not making a move to adjust her posture.

"Kirisawa." he said warningly.

Sighing loudly, she made a show of sitting upright and rearranging her legs and crossing them over, her posture exaggeratedly straight. "Better?"

He nodded, leaning against the wall. "At least now you look half-human, rather than looking like a complete monkey."

Fuuko glared at him, her eyes shooting daggers. "Better than being a complete freezer."

"Chimp."

"Ice box."

"He-monkey."

"Soulless fridge."

"King Kong." He didn't know why he was engaging himself in such mindless, not to mention completely childish banter with her. She was probably the only person in the world who could make him continually throw juvenile insults back and forth. He would rather commit seppuku and be burned alive at a stake than to do this with, say, Recca. After all, he was supposed to be the cool and collected man of few words.

"I hate you." Standing up, she turned her back to him and walked into the kitchen. Smirking, he followed her. "Admitting defeat so soon, Kirisawa?"

"No. I hate you." She repeated, grabbing a cup and a tin of tea from the shelf. Walking closer to her, he put his lips close to her ear and whispered, "Monkey."

Whirling around, she shot daggers at him, her eyes alight with a dangerous look he was familiar with, and instinctively, he took two steps back. "Don't make me throw this cup at you, Mikagami. Or better still, I'll throw a meat cleaver at you."

Whoa. She called him Mikagami. She really was pissed off, except he wasn't quite sure he knew why. Sure, he'd insulted her, but she did the same, and it was always like that with them.

Fuuko put the kettle to boil with a clatter, clanging and crashing all the utensils, and Mikagami watched her silently. He contemplated walking out of the kitchen – he didn't know what the hell was wrong with her, PMS, maybe – but a small voice told him to maybe stay.

A silence settled between the two, an uncomfortable, tension-filled silence, until he broke it. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

"No." She muttered angrily as the kettle whistled. She yanked it off the stand and splashed water into her cup, but her motions were so aggressive that the boiling water gushed over and scalded her fingers. Yelping, Fuuko drew back and Mikagami gave a start.

In two strides, Mikagami was by her side and holding her scalded fingers under cold water running from the tap. Fuuko tried to get her hand away from him, but he held tightly and she eventually gave in. After a while, he turned off the tap and wiped her hand dry with a hand-towel, looking at her red fingers with a critical eye.

"Some burn cream should take care of it," he said. She twisted her hand out of his grip, grabbing the hand-towel and bundling her hand with it.

"Thank you. I'll get the burn creams myself." She said frostily, turning to walk out of the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her good hand as she was leaving.

"Fuuko. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She returned, an edge of ice in her voice.

He blinked, not really understanding.

"What would happen to you if you didn't manage to insult me in every hour? Curl up in a corner and shrivel away?"

So this was what it was all about. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Since when are you so sensitive?"

Exasperatedly, she tugged her hand out of his. "I'm not sensitive, Mikagami. However, there is a limit as to how many times I can take being called a monkey, gorilla, King Kong, what have you, in a day."

Mikagami was silent, not really knowing how to respond.

"Regardless of what you seem to think, I'm a girl. And it might surprise you to know this, but I have feelings. And it's not very nice being called a monkey 24 hours a day. It's not nice having you asking me to shut up when I'm just trying to make conversation. It's not nice having you laugh at me when I try to make an effort with dresses. It's not very nice having you insulting everything I attempt to cook. It's not very nice when every word that comes out of your mouth was something to laugh at or to offend me!"

Mikagami blinked again. This was kind of unexpected. All this verbal banter he had been having with her all along, was hurting her feelings?! And he thought that it was, you know, fun. At least it was fun to him.

Fuuko looked at him expectantly, he had to say something. "You should've said something earlier."

She rolled her eyes. "I did tell you not to call me monkey every 5 seconds."

She did; but he didn't take her seriously.

Sighing, she leaned against the kitchen doorframe, unwrapping the towel from her hand. "Oh, Mi-chan. I didn't mean that I want you to shower me with fake compliments." A small smile came over her face. "In fact, I think I would probably faint if you ever complimented me; but all those constant insults, they make me wonder, you know?"

"Wonder about what?"

"Wonder…about whether this was really what you want." She said quietly.

A strange sort of feeling came over him; he didn't really know what it was. All he knew was that it kind of hurt and it kind of made him feel sad and guilty and panicky all at once.

"You know that I do want this."

Fuuko gave him a tired look. "No, really, I don't."

"It's not about the words, Fuuko."

"But words do matter, no matter how you look at it."

Quietly, Mikagami walked towards her and leaned on the other end of the doorframe, facing her. Slowly, he reached out and linked his fingers with hers on her good hand. She didn't pull away.

"I…" He cleared his throat, and tried to find his voice. "I'm sorry."

A laugh escaped her and her eyes cleared, just a little. "You're apologizing?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." He muttered. "I'm sorry." He said again. "I thought it was…" He tried to find the words that would not make him sound and seem like a total moron. God, if anyone else was watching them right now, he'd kill them to make sure that were no witnesses to this.

For one, he could not believe he was apologizing.

"…something we do. Just us."

Sighing, she tightened her fingers around his for a few short seconds. "It is, Mi-chan. But it gets too much sometimes. It's fun…but I'm starting to doubt…" She broke off, seemingly searching for words. "It's fine to have that banter going on, it's what we do, but every single hour? Every single day? You laugh at me, make fun of me, grunt at me, I don't know what to think sometimes."

"Especially when I wear girly dresses, wear make-up in an effort to look more feminine than you, and have you laugh at me and throwing me all kinds of insults. I am the girl in this relationship, in spite of the way I look, and the way you look. It's hard enough having you being more beautiful than me, you know?"

He needed to throw out the mirror that she was using, what the hell was she talking about?

In all honest truth, she was one of the sexiest of the female species that he had ever come across. It didn't help that she was always wearing shorts and low-cut tops. But he never told her that, and he didn't know how to start.

"For your information, I am manly." That was the first thing that came into his head.

Fuuko threw him a look.

"I'm sorry about that." He said again. She didn't say anything, but continued studying her hand. He sighed inwardly, he had to tell her what he thought.

"And…you're beautiful."

She gave him another look, one of utter disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"Don't make me repeat it." He said threateningly.

"Really sincere." She snorted, turning away from him.

Mikagami lifted his hand, placing it on her face and turning her to look at him. His eyes pierced into hers, and held her in his gaze.

"I mean it." He said quietly.

She met his eyes unflinchingly, not saying anything. He then leaned forward and brushed her forehead with a quick kiss. "It's not always about the words." He said again.

Fuuko still didn't say anything. How uncharacteristic of her to remain quiet for so long.

"Youdo know how I feel."

She just continued staring at him, an unspoken challenge in her eyes. He knew what she wanted; at some level, Mikagami knew Fuuko like he knew himself.

"Fine. I love you." He barked. "I won't say it again for the next year, so hear me clearly, Fuuko. I love you. And this is precisely what I want. Us."

A giggle escaped her as she looked at his disgruntled, grumpy face. Taking a step forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "I love you, too."

"I know." Came the smug reply, as Mikagami's own arms encircled her back. They remained in embrace for a short while before Fuuko spoke.

"Sorry for snapping." She said sheepishly.

"And I'm sorry for the insults." He muttered, still not quite believing that he was apologizing, again. Loosening his arms around her, he placed his hands on both sides of her face, drawing her up to him so that he could plant a firm, thorough kiss on her lips.

"I'm not going to change." He breathed against her lips, twirling a strand of purple hair around his finger.

"I know." Fuuko murmured, slipping her hands under his shirt on his back. Drawing back a little, she grinned at him. "Freezer."

He started, and studied her for a little while, before throwing her a smirk. "Monkey."

"Ice-boy."

Mikagami didn't bother this time; he just kissed her again.

------

nothing's gonna change my world
nothing's gonna change my world

end

That is supremely plot-less and somewhat contradicting at certain parts especially the ending but it's still fun to imagine. Constructive criticism much appreciated - as you can tell, I don't write very often. And I am rather out of touch with the Flame of Recca fandom.