"Jin?"
He glanced up from the river, acknowledging her presence.
"You traveled alone before this, right?"
"Yes."
"And you're always broke, right?"
The words warranted a glare and a reluctant nod. Fuu's eyes twinkled with delight as she came to a conclusion.
"So you had to cook for yourself all these years! You must've gotten really good at it! I wonder if you could make us dinner tonight? We don't have much to work with, but-"
"No."
Jin wasn't angry, but only because Jin was never angry. Fuu wilted.
"You can't cook?"
"I did once," he admitted. Fuu brightened again.
"Was it good?"
"It killed the dog that stole it." Jin turned back to the river and resumed his fishing. Fuu sighed. At least she knew why he was so thin.
(------)
I always wondered how he survived… Anyways, blame this fic on... I don't know. IT's not funny but it's not angsty at least. I hate angst. (No, really...)