Disclaimer: The Ronin, the Pirate, and their girl Fuu aren't mine. Woe.
Author's Note: Maybe some tangental spoilers for Ep.13.
It was better than they were used to, but it still wasn't the best sleeping arrangement. Only one room, the house was small, cramped, and stiflingly hot when the coal fire was stoked. Problematically if they let the fire go out, the timber and thatch construction grew unbearably cold. Wind howled through the two small windows, which hadn't been sealed off even with paper. And so they were left with heat. Dry, close, consuming heat. And the smell of just-cooked fish.
Unable to bear it any more, Mugen had stood up, following their semi-filling meal, and announced that he was going to wander down to the village to see if he could "rustle up some bitches." With a look and a gesture, he had invited Jin along for the walk and the first couple rounds of sake (those consumed before Mugen's eye was caught by a woman who didn't mind being compromised and would no doubt look slightly less appealing in the morning). Tempting though it was to abandon their miserable dwelling, Jin declined.
"Thank you, no."
"Suit yourself, asshole." And with that, Mugen had disappeared through the doorway and wouldn't return until the sun was relatively high in the morning sky.
So there they were. Two companions of a sort, lying on the lumpy, thin futon mats they'd found rolled in a corner of the abandoned dwelling when they'd first stumbled across it. The tiny windows only let in the occasional sound of a wind gust and the quiet rushing of a nearby river; though the moon was waxing and nearing its zenith there was no light to be had in the hut. In the dark, Jin could hear Fuu's breathing - rhythmic, but not soft or steady enough to denote sleep. Every two or three minutes he'd hear her attempt to shift herself into a more comfortable position as quietly as she could, so as not to wake him. Considerate, if unnecessary. Though his eyes were closed (why bother keeping them open with no light to see by?), he could feel her agitation.
"You're awake."
"Gyah! Geeze, Jin. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" Although he'd said it as quietly and gently as possible in an attempt to refrain from startling her, she still seemed fairly surprised.
"I'm sorry."
Her breathing slowed as she quieted, "...It's okay."
"Hm."
He'd meant to make her less agitated, able to move more freely knowing that he was awake. Hopefully she'd be able to make herself comfortable enough to sleep. (A tired Fuu was a rather unpleasant traveling companion.) Instead, she seemed more restless.
"...Hey, Jin."
"Hm."
"You didn't go with Mugen."
That was quite obvious, and elicited only an affirmative nod. He knew she couldn't see him, but it didn't seem like a verbal response was necessary.
"... Jin?"
"Hm?"
"Why didn't you go with Mugen?"
To that, he had no response he thought would help explain his actions: he simply hadn't gone.
"I mean, I'd have been alright if you'd gone. This place is pretty isolated and don't think anyone'd try to kidnap me and sell me into slavery or send me to Holland or anything." She laughed, "And I sort of thought you might want to go. You do go with him sometimes, and I feel bad if you didn't go only because you thought I couldn't take care of myself. Obviously I need you guys on the way to Nagasaki, so it's not like I'm saying just take off or whatever. But if you wanted to get out you really could have. Seriously. I'd be fine. You could probably still go, if you wanted."
Although she'd said quite a lot (as per usual) and very quickly, Jin wasn't sure what it was she'd actually said. Neither the companionship at the Dojo nor his samurai training had actually prepared him for prolonged contact with a young woman. (Though perhaps it should have?) While Fuu was never shy with her words, Jin was distinctly impressed by how guarded she was with her meaning. Women were skilled in ways he was only just becoming accustomed to.
"...Did you want me to go with him?"
"No! That's not what I - I mean, I just - I didn't not want you to go, if you wanted to. I just felt bad that if you'd wanted to and you didn't, because you thought I didn't want you to or whatever, and Mugen's such a jerk and wouldn't bother to stay with me even if I asked him or something."
"Ah."
"Which I didn't, because I'd have been fine. Which is why I feel bad that you stayed. If you wanted to go."
"Ah."
"...So, Jin."
"Mm?"
"Why didn't you go?"
"...I didn't feel a need to." He'd learned that the simplest and most direct answer was often the best.
"A need to or want to?"
"A samurai's actions should always be based on needs, never wants. If the want is strong enough, it becomes a need. That is when he should act, otherwise the action is empty."
He heard rustling from her side of the room, indicating she was shifting onto her side, "Okay then."
Minutes slowly past but her breathing pattern didn't change. Jin couldn't really remember when he'd begun waiting until she was deeply asleep before allowing himself to lose consciousness. If they were sleeping outside, he and Mugen would often trade watches - just to make sure nothing took them both by surprise. As Jin was more easily able to wake with the sun, he typically took first shift and slept the second half of the night, able to rise at dawn and take watch again while Mugen slept an additional hour or two. It was a suitable arrangement and enabled Jin time every night to be alone with his thoughts, to meditate and mentally train. Even then, however, he didn't allow his attention to waver from the camp until he heard her breathing slow and soften.
"You're still awake." It wasn't that he wanted to sleep, necessarily; he wasn't particularly tired and could operate on very little sleep. But they'd walked a long way that day and hadn't had a very large meal.
Jin and Mugen had begun the journey by walking ahead of her, thus allowing her to keep her own pace to a certain degree. As they'd progressed, however, Jin personally tried to make sure that he walked at a speed that would enable her to feel secure while still keeping up his guard, should the need arise for him to use speed to protect her. She still should have been able to walk at her own rate, but her habit of clutching the back of his kimono as they journeyed meant she had to move slightly faster than she ordinarily would. And they had traveled at least fifteen miles that day. She should have been exhausted.
"Jin?"
"Mm."
"Do you - do you ever think about her?" Fuu's voice was small in the darkness.
"Sometimes," again - the simplest, most direct answer was typically best.
"Oh." He heard more rustling and, "When?" Her voice was muffled and even softer, but he could still hear her clearly. She had turned towards the wall.
"When I think about duty. And when I think about obligation."
"And love?" For such a loud girl, her voice was infinitely weak - and almost sad. Wistful? Jin didn't think it suited a person who was normally so boisterous. Although restraint was considered an admirable trait for a woman, it made Fuu seem lesser somehow. She seemed diminished.
"I think ... I did love her then. Yes."
"I see," and for a time even the rustling stopped. Still, her breathing never deepened, never slowed. He could almost hear her blinking. And so he stayed awake.
"Jin?"
"Mm."
"You would have married someone like her, wouldn't you? If - I mean, if you hadn't... I mean, eventually..." Her voice was still coming from around her body, first deadened by the wall she still faced.
"I believe so, yes." It was true. Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he trained and increased in skill and composure, he knew there would have to be a wife, children. It was his duty to his family, and his duty to his master. And Shino would have made an excellent wife - lovely, intelligent, soft-spoken, resigned, dignified.
There was more rustling as Fuu turned from the wall to face him in the blackness, "Jin?"
"Mm?"
Although her voice was still quiet, still small, she seemed to have come to a decision about something and had resumed her normal rapidity in speech. "Do you want to go to her? Because Mugen and I could get to Nagasaki okay just the two of us. Not that I want to travel only with Mugen. I mean - but, I know she has to wait three years or something. If you told them it was you who saved her, maybe they could make an exception? Because it's not fair of me to keep you bound to my journey and to me. Not when she's out there waiting for you. And if they don't let you see her, maybe you could just stay in her area - on the off chance or something."
"...Do you want me to go to her?"
For having been asked a direct question, Fuu was uncharacteristically silent for several moments. "No. I don't."
Again, Jin only nodded into the night. There was no verbal answer. It hadn't been a real question in his mind, and he hoped that Fuu understood. There were things he couldn't say - thoughts, feelings he couldn't express. Even if he hadn't been accustomed to repressing them, he doubted he'd be able to detangle them all and lay them out neatly for her. Protection, duty, honor, fealty, love, obeisance, friendship, companionship, brotherhood, obligation, promises, and passion: who knew a man who said so little could feel so much about so few? He certainly hadn't expected it of himself. Of course if he had been told to leave, that he was no longer required, no longer wanted, he'd abide by her wishes. It was Fuu who bound them together. Shino - yes, Shino. He was obliged to her. But he felt he belonged -
"If you wanted to go to her, I wouldn't try to stop you. I realized I was wrong to try to keep you from going to her like that. She could give you things that this journey - that I, that we, that - I mean, that Mugen and I, um - I mean - If she means something to you... And you deserve - "
"You don't want me to go to her."
She grew quiet again, "No, I don't."
"Then I won't."
In the dark, with the wind whistling over the distant sound of rushing water, Fuu finally asked again, "Jin?"
"Mm?"
"Why don't you go to her?"
"...Because I don't feel a need to."
Eventually, through the silence, he heard her gently say, "Oh," as her breathing slowed and deepened and the restless rustling stopped.