Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I was dissatisfied with the ending of SC, so I decided to go on with it some. There also seems to be a distinct lack of Jin/Fuu/Mugen to read, the only pairing that I think fits in this fandom.

Stay

She was pretty, she supposed, if only in an everyday-sorta-girl pretty. She was no great beauty, she knew. No matter what Mugen said, she wasn't that naïve.

That being the case, "Why were such two obviously good looking and talented men traveling with her?" was a smart question to ask. They easily could have left her and sold themselves as experienced swords for hire.

It still confused her that they didn't. Honestly, what were they getting from her that they couldn't get easily elsewhere? Not the sex, certainly, and they were always complaining about her company, so…

Why did they bother to stick by her? Pulling her out of trouble when she needed them to? Warming her futon most nights?

Fuu wasn't deaf, either.

'How strange,' others murmured as they saw Mugen, Jin, and her walk to the nearest inn and order a room. If the town was particularly small, the fact that they only ordered one room would get around by the end of the night.

Without fail.

.

Unbeknown to most, even their fellow traveling partners, the two men wondered over these thoughts almost ever night. Her small body lay willingly trapped between their embraces, hands fisting hair and clothes, uncaring to the fact that they were practiced killers, thieves, and fighters.

As they lay there, their warm breaths falling and mingling on her head, they wondered why they weren't already alone again. Their eyes connect over her still form and they portrayed a silent message, a question that neither had an answer for, and probably never would.

Why are we still here?

It was something that they acknowledged having no answer on, and, as they lay there, their hearts pressing together in that soothing, blump, blump, blump, they decided that they were better of not asking and not knowing.

Sighing silently at her shivers, they moved closer together, their calloused hands brushing as they tucked the girl closer to them, their heat mingling as they lay on that single futon in the small, dark room of yet another inn that they were sleeping in.

It was at times like this that they admitted to themselves that they were afraid. Afraid of what would happen to her should they leave, afraid that they didn't have the strength to leave, and afraid that they wouldn't ever want to.

Together, forever. The Ronin, the Vagabond, and the Girl-child of the samurai that smelled of sunflowers.

They were truthful to themselves at least, if only in the quiet of their minds and the darkness of the room in which they lay…They figured that that was good enough for them now.

'I don't want to go.'