"They had their own kind of tune…"

Music


He was always a man of few words, always quiet and never obtrusive. Though it seemed odd that after relishing the silence for the first twenty years of his life, he came to dread the way it followed him.

With Mugen and Fuu, noise was inevitable. He always did seem to attract the boisterous ones.

Of course, he cursed inwardly at their inability to keep quiet the first few months of their journey. But as they reached closer to their roundabout destination, Jin found some kind of comfort in their explosive voices.

And in some alternate world, he still hears Mugen's loud, obscene cursing and Fuu's endless nagging. When he walks down the street these days, every rough faced sailor becomes a red robed vagrant, and every nagging child, a spirited fifteen year old.

But that's not the part he wants to remember. Because in all those annoying naggings and insulting jibes, there's some hint of music to it. They had their own up and down rhythm but it was really the music he was listening for.

When they used to lie by the camp fire, each caught up in their own dreams, he would lie awake. And that's when he found out what they really sounded like.

Fuu would sing quietly to her self, and in the midst of all the notes, he knew she was crying. With quiet tears and quiet notes, Fuu wasn't the strong girl her voice led on.

Mugen would hum quietly and somehow, Jin knew it was a Ryuukan melody. It wasn't loud enough to disturb, but just enough to reach the waves that he knew lay beyond.

And that's how he wants to remember them.

Not loud and laughing.

Because behind every smile, he sees a tear.

No, he wants to remember them quietly with a tune not found in their daytime personalities.

And at night, Jin finds himself humming a melody that reminds him of both sunflowers and ocean water.