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Chapter Nine: Midnight Singer

Oh midnight singer
Outside my window
Oh how your songs
Come in strange and low
And in my bed I lay silent
Hoping you'd stay
Hoping you'd go

The rest of the night passed in tense civility, the trio ignoring the burning question of just who Fuu had given herself to, and the consequences of that action. It was a matter of honor, and even Fuu's objections wouldn't stop the men from seeking to return it to her. It was a samurai code, and Mugen and Jin were nothing if not samurais.

By midnight, Kiyoko was tired beyond redemption, having been tempted into staying up much past her bed time by the prospect of listening to the music on the wind from town. Tonight was festival night, celebration of the ships returning from sea, their bellies full of fish to bring the village prosperity. There would be food, dancing, and general revelry. If Fuu had been alone, she'd have sent Kiki on to Lee's house and joined the crowd down there, losing herself in the anonymity it afforded her. She'd have drunk a little, danced a little, and perhaps even have gambled a little. She never did any of those things often, less even to the extremes of them. She couldn't remember the last time she'd danced at all.

They all stood or sat on the front porch, only the lights of the village giving any sense of illumination. The moon was clouded over and the trees whistled in the breeze, bringing laughter and shouts and not a little music their way. Mugen watched as distant figures moved about the buildings down there, some of them steadily and some of them drunken enough to be seen as such from this distance. Jin held a drowsy Kiki in his arms, her eyes closed as she hummed along with the distant music, slowly moving back and forth in a rocking motion that Jin didn't realize he was supposed to mimic for her, Fuu also swayed slowly to that beat, her eyes closed. Mugen turned from the village to watch her. Jin watched Mugen.

Finally, she spoke. "Jin?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you ever dance with Shiro?"

Jin raised an eyebrow over Kiki's head, his mind going to the gutters and assuming she meant a different kind of dance that she intended. "No, but we came quite close."

Fuu stopped dancing and resisted the urge to throw her shoe at him. "I meant real dancing."

"Like that?" He asked, his head inclining towards the village square where couples were entwined in the new "dance craze". It was called the Waltz, and it was from Britain. All the 'hot' celebrity couples were doing it.

"Well, yeah."

"No. Shiro and I were never in a situation that gave the opportunity. The few times I visited her on the island...we were busy doing other things."

Mugen leered. "Like what?"

Fuu did throw her shoe at him. "There is a child present."

"I know, but even if he is a child, he did naughty things, and I want to hear."

"I meant Kiyoko."

"Ha! Then you missed one."

Fuu ground her teeth and glared at him. Why did he always have to be so irritatingly irreverent?

"Why did you ask, Fuu?" Jin interrupted, before further violence caused the child to awaken. She was snoring lightly, but her eyes popped open every few seconds to take in the situation anew.

Fuu shrugged, stepping off the steps and onto the cool grass. "I was just thinking that I can't remember the last time I danced with anyone."

Mugen grinned. "Well, we can't have that." He joined her on the grass, and to Jin's amusement, did a strange little jig. He then proceeded to take Fuu's hands and spin her around in circles.

For all his insidious good humor (which was strange considering that for the entire time she'd known him, his good humor usually involved people dying and/or being hurt) (where the hell was all this silliness coming from?), Fuu laughed as he spun her, only quieting when Jin made a sharp motion as Kiki started to wake back up, her mouth opening in a half-whine, half-yawn. With a sigh, he glared at the two on the lawn and stood. "I'll put Kiki in bed."

Fuu, still holding Mugen's hand (and ignoring her feelings about doing so), nodded. "You might have to read her a story to get her to settle down again."

Jin nodded and walked into the dark house, Kiki's tiny pale arms wrapped around his neck, her solemn brown eyes staring over his shoulder drowsily at the couple lit from behind by the town. They stood there, cast in shadows, holding hands and looking solemn. Kiyoko dreamt of dancing that night.

Fuu watched as her daughter was carried down the hall, smiling as she turned back to Mugen. "Now, let's really dance."

Mugen wiggled his eyebrows. "With Jin in the house? Kinky."

She smacked him lightly on the head. "Stop being a perv. Now, put your hand here," she demonstrated by moving his hand to her waist. "And hold my other hand like this," she took his hand, "and then we move."

"Move how?"

"Umm...in circles."

"Sounds repetitive."

"Aww, you've been using your Word-A-Day calendar."

"Stop being bitchy."

"You're dancing, Mugen," Fuu said as she smiled, ignoring his insults as they slowly moved around the yard. The ground was uneven and made for tough goings, but the pleasure in being held in a man's arms, even Mugen's, overshadows the discomfort of it. They were silent for a few moments, both growing used to the strangeness of the movement. Down in the village, the music changed, becoming even slower. Mugen and Fuu changed pace automatically, growing closer, though not intentionally as they did so. Neither noticed when Jin returned and lingered in the shadows watching them.

They danced around that courtyard for a few minutes, Fuu breaking out in a wide smile every couple of minutes, while Mugen remained ever intense-eyed at her. It was often difficult to tell just what Mugen was thinking. Almost as hard as it was to read him, it was easy to read Fuu. At the moment, she was thinking that Mugen had changed in the past three years. One would assume that a year in prison would make a man harder, but for Mugen, it seemed to relieve him of some of the burdens that had made him so bitter so early in life. He had his scars and tattoos from the time he did, but they no longer bore him down to the ground. There was a relaxed air to him, in this time and place, that wasn't faked. He was comfortable here, with her. Or at least, that's what Fuu thought. Mugen's actual personality and motives for doing what he did were often not so clear. One needed a magic eight ball to get a straight answer out of him, and even then, it was a guessing game as to if it was true.

Jin cleared his throat, and the couple stepped apart quickly. Fuu smiled and walked over to join Jin on the porch. Before she could get to the steps, he spoke quickly. "I'm leaving tomorrow. For Shiro."

Fuu froze, but nodded. "Okay."

"I'll return within two weeks."

"That's nice," Fuu said. What Jin did with his time was no longer of much concern to her. He was an adult, she was an adult, and that foolish schoolgirl crush she'd had once was long faded. As the days passed in these men's company, Fuu was finding that the schoolgirl was gone, and in its place was a grown woman with a weakness for bushy-haired men with ink. Not that she'd admit such a thing.

"Is that acceptable?" Jin asked, his face stiff with all the repressed emotion that upper-class citizens possessed. It was in moments like this that Fuu realized just how far removed from her own way of life he'd been raised.

"It's fine, Jin. When you return, you and she are welcome to stay here," Fuu replied, just as courteous. Yes, it was most difficult, the bringing of another woman into your former lust object's home, but with perfect manners, anything is possible.

Jin nodded, and briefly smiled. "I think I shall sojourn now."

Mugen raised an eyebrow as he walked up to Fuu, throwing his arm around her neck. "Oooh, fancy word."

Fuu tittered, but pushed his arm off. "Like you know any."

Neither noticed as Jin slipped away.

"I know fancy words."

"No, you know 'fancy' girls."

"Hey, whores are people too."

"I don't doubt it. You know them better than you know fancy words."

"That hurts, babe. Hurts."

"You know what hurts, Mugen? My feet. You stepped on my toes."

"I can't help it that you've got big feet."

Does anyone blame her that she so often feels the urge to do violence against him?