first, let's get something straight here: this fic is old. like, I started writing this in 2008, a little after I had finished watching this series. I'd written about 75% of this already, and finally decided today to finish and upload it. saying so, keep in mind that I didn't put very much effort into polishing this (I actually kinda gave up, aha...). still, I hope you all enjoy!
(this takes place probably around halfway through the series)
The low hum of cicadas droned on in the midsummer heat, their voices buzzing of dust and sweat. The volume seemed to steadily increase, pounding in one's ears, much to a certain Fuu's irritation. As if on cue, she felt another bead of perspiration trickle uncomfortably down her kimono. Shifting, she rubbed at her neck, pushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to her throat and face. But the afternoon sun continued to blaze on mercilessly, heedless to Fuu's silent protests. She tilted her head upward, squinting at the light. She was quite positive that this day was the hottest one ever known in Japan. Or did it just seem that way because she was sitting on some godforsaken hill in the middle of nowhere without shade? Her stomach twisted painfully and Fuu clenched her teeth together, suppressing a groan.
She could practically taste the salty residue of her own sweat, which only seemed to increase her need of a drink while tauntingly reminding her that she couldn't get one. Her eyes narrowed in a frown and she whispered a stream of curses at temperature and sunflowers and stupid men.
"Would you stop that muttering?" Mugen's voice barked from behind her.
She didn't bother turning around to give a snappy answer because believe it or not, she didn't feel like it. Why? It was quite simple really: they (meaning her, the idiot moron, and a more composed rounin) had no food, no money, and no lodging; therefore, she was far too fed up with the world to argue at someone with hardly half a brain. All the same, she mumbled a half-reply over her shoulder as to ward off any suspicions of submission.
"I said stop it already, you dumb broad!"
The insult slid over her without any ill effect (she was used to it by now) and Fuu let out a long sigh, focusing her gaze on a scuffed sandal. Of course, to make matters worse, both her useless bodyguards had refused to look for work. Instead, one of them had loudly insisted they stop and rest (more accurately portrayed as, "I said we're stopping or I cut that tongue of yours out!") while the other quietly followed his lead despite her sputters of protest. And of course, she had had to give in: she was the minority in more ways than one, after all.
And so here she was, sitting on an overturned log nowhere near Nagasaki, while her two companions lay sprawled somewhere on the sunlit grass behind her. Were all men like this? Apathetic toward things that weren't sex, food, or themselves? If that was true, she could forget about getting married, that was for sure. Bummer.
Fuu stretched a leg out in front of her, dragging a heel in the dirt. This was why women were obviously superior to men: women were fragile creatures, but perfectly capable of taking matters into their own hands. Fuu smiled faintly to herself. She was a perfect example of that: it had been she who had started this whole journey business in search of the samurai who smelled of sunflowers. But she really did have to thank those bozos. If they hadn't burned the tea-house down, she still would've been working there. And they'd helped her out of quite a few messes…
Then again, she'd paid them back tenfold already by saving their lives from execution.
The corners of her mouth turned down. And yet they were still totally ungrateful to her! Running off into the red-light district every time they reached civilization, pigging out on food she could barely pay for, and drinking themselves into oblivion were only the tip of the iceberg. If it wasn't for her and her flipped coin at the very beginning of this, those two would be dead by now! The least they could do was try and help her out a little more faithfully; they owed it to her!
"I hate men," she decided aloud through gritted teeth.
"Don't make me get up and knock your head off," was the immediate retort.
A small bug crawled around her shoe and Fuu gratefully directed her glare at it rather than the man behind her, satisfying herself with mental images of it suddenly morphing into a face with angular features and disdainful eyes before withering away from the force of her gaze. She heard him exhale loudly and turn over, saying something that sounded suspiciously like "crazy chick."
Fuu bit down on her lip. The pain in her abdomen had not subsided, but rather it seemed to be urging her on to give him a piece of her mind, roaring its approval of her defiance. She shook her head dazedly, her grip tightening on the fabric of her sleeves as though to drive the hunger away. Maybe she was going crazy from a lack of food? But then her good looks would go to waste-
"Geez," Mugen grumbled, interrupting Fuu's thoughts. "When people are trying to sleep the least you can do is shut up your yammering for a bit."
Fuu said nothing at this, letting his words sink in. Then she replayed them. Then she replayed them again. As his voice went on a continuous loop in her head, the hunger curling in her stomach roared on, jabbing painfully. The cicadas buzzed loudly in her ears. The sweat on her neck slipped down her back and prickled uncomfortably.
She was too hungry. It was too loud. Too hot. Too damn far away from shade and Nagasaki. Too damn close to an utter chauvinistic pig. In short, Fuu was pissed. She didn't realize that Mugen had most likely spoken up without any sort of prior prompt just to spite her (probably something to do with male pride and exerting dominance over gibbering women), but she grabbed the bait and yanked anyway.
"What did you say to me?" she hissed.
The cicadas paused, as though sensing the tension in the air, and it was eerily quiet. There was no response from behind her, but Fuu knew Mugen well enough to realize he was only deliberating what to say for the counterattack.
"You know what I said, girly. Now bug off," he drawled sleepily, and the cicadas resumed.
How very eloquent of him, she thought furiously, grinding her teeth and slowly standing with a muted rustle of fabric.
"Why do you think," she began, the tone deadly, "that you're here in the first place?"
"Goddammit woman, we've already gone through this bull. I could care less right now," he groaned. "Let a man get some shut-eye."
Mugen's arrogant tone seemed too much to accept without a fight, and Fuu wasn't one to disappoint. If she really had been paying attention, she would've realized that under normal circumstances, he would've probably moved away or just ignored her by this point. But she wasn't paying attention. Whirling around to face him, Fuu's narrowed gaze landed on the upright man next to her target. Jin studied her seething expression inscrutably for a moment, then eased himself up and, with a dignified brush of his clothes, backed up a good distance before sitting down again. His glasses glinted.
Fuu's intended victim was sprawled across the grass several steps away, an arm draped over his face to block the sunlight from his closed eyes. His sword was propped beside him or Fuu would've snatched it and clobbered him over the head repeatedly until he begged for mercy (never mind that he had the reflexes of a cat and the temper of a bee and probably would've wrested it back from her in seconds without damage).
Mugen shifted slightly, disturbing her fantasy. His frayed red jacket was stuffed under his head as a makeshift pillow but Fuu could smell the dusty scent from her vantage point. Her eyes traveled to the sharp jaw line, dusted with faint stubble, and the dark tousled hair. The sinewy limbs were relaxed and suddenly Fuu could hardly believe that it was him who snarked at everything rational before slashing away without a second thought. He looked so peaceful…
She almost slapped herself, quickly smothering the funny feeling in her chest. Don't get distracted! Now remember: keep your cool and stay smugly superior. He'll surely crack before I do if I stay calm and-
"Is she gone, Jin?" he asked unexpectedly, but continued without waiting for an answer. "Good riddance. Bitch won't freaking shut her face."
Any remaining hesitation she had dissolved with an encouraging prod from her empty belly. Fuu was seconds from flying at him and pummeling him with her fists while screaming herself senseless. Jin seemed to notice this and cleared his throat.
"Mugen," he intoned colorlessly.
"Don't pretend it's not true. And I don't wanna hear that chivalry shit again, it's not my fault she has something stuck up her-"
"Mugen."
"- and the idiot will never get off my back about 'treating her right' or whatever. I'm not freaking married to her, and I'll feel sorry for any dummy that will-"
"Mugen."
"What?" he snapped, sitting up and rubbing at his face. He looked around, disoriented, before focusing on Jin. "Hey. What are you doing back there?"
He didn't answer from his seat, staring pointedly at Fuu. Following his gaze, Mugen looked back at her. He took in her flushed face and fisted hands, her tense shoulders and livid expression. He stretched languorously and yawned, completely unfazed. Fuu exploded.
"What the hell?" she burst out, nails digging into her palms. "What the damn hell?"
"What's wrong with you?" Mugen asked, smirking.
Fuu was far too distracted by now to notice that his bright eyes betrayed the overly relaxed tone and body, and plunged headfirst into the argument. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? How dare you say such things about me when I'm standing right here within earshot? I don't deserve to be treated this way! You… you… you animal! Look at yourself!"
The rest of her rant was a series of incoherent babbled sounds and sputtering that ended swiftly in a loud, frustrated yell. The two men were silent. Breathing heavily, Fuu glared at Mugen, daring him to infuriate her further. He looked slightly horrified and Fuu felt satisfied.
"Damn," he said. "Don't tell me you're going through that monthly woman crap right now. The last thing I need is you getting all huffy on me one second and then horny the next."
If Fuu could've imploded, she would've right there.
"I am a woman!" she screamed, vaguely noticing that her shrill tone had sent a flock of birds scattering into the distance. "A woman! Women do not deserve to be treated in such a way! I'm a fricking flower, you hear me? A flower! Flowers should be revered, not shoved to the side every time a pair of breasts and legs turns up! Flowers should be listened to, not ignored just because her idiot bodyguards own swords and therefore think they're superior! I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS!"
Fuu exhaled loudly, gulping large quantities of air back into her deflated lungs and staring straight at Mugen. His expression was a mixture of amazement and trepidation, which greatly pleased Fuu. It seemed that it took a bright red face, a trembling frame, and a wild look in her eyes to make him listen.
"Then what do you want?"
When Fuu realized that the question wasn't from Mugen, she glanced back at Jin in surprise. "Huh?" she asked, her fury dissipating slightly.
Jin adjusted his glasses. "What do you want us to do? Now that you've told us your qualms, surely you have something in mind to remedy them?"
Fuu sputtered for a bit, and then dropped her gaze. The truth of it was she hadn't really expected to blow her top. Sure, the three of them had had some rough times, but none, until now, had seemed to warrant screaming her head off. Fuu glanced back at the two men waiting for her response. They seemed quite willing to listen to her now… She straightened, and Mugen and Jin watched her expectantly.
"Women have feelings, too," she began. "I need to know that I'm appreciated every once in a while. And I want my opinion to be counted! Don't ignore me… and no more ditching me suddenly! If you want to go somewhere, tell me so I know where you are. And please try and get work when we need money… And-"
"Fine," Mugen interrupted, waving a hand carelessly. "We'll try, but don't expect us to be perfect, woman."
"I suppose it's the least we could do," Jin agreed. "We'll do our best, Fuu."
Fuu could only stare as Mugen collected his belongings and strode past her, followed closely by Jin. She watched the two of them reach the foot of the hill, the same funny feeling floating in her chest. She started when Jin called to her, her brain unfogging.
"Aren't you coming?"
She blinked, and suddenly it wasn't unbearably hot, the cicadas weren't too loud, she wasn't that hungry, and Nagasaki didn't seem so far away. "I'm coming!" she replied, running after them.
Later that day, when the moon had risen to relieve them all of the heat, the trio settled to sleep for the night. Fuu lay on her side, nestled into the grass between her two bodyguards, and fell asleep in moments, a small smile playing on her lips. She didn't stir when Mugen leaned over her, checking to see if she was still awake, before creeping over to where Jin lay.
"I told you it would work," he sneered, prodding at the still figure.
Jin sat up, squinting in Mugen's general direction. "If you're content to risk your life each time you think she's getting too, as you said, 'uppity,' then be my guest. I like my head where it is. Although…" He paused, scrutinizing Mugen. "That was unexpectedly decent of you to let her blow off some steam."
Mugen shrugged, glancing over at Fuu's peaceful face. "She was getting way too stressed about everything." His eyes gleamed in the sparse light as he turned back to Jin. "But think of it this way, now we can go to the red-light district without too much complaint from her."
"…this might be the first intelligent thing you've done since we've met."
"Shut up, four eyes."
I myself didn't really like this, it actually completely deviated from what I originally planned, but I hope it entertained you guys! please drop a line and tell me what you thought!