A week of burning exhaustion followed as both men remained in their deep, healing sleep. Fuu seldom slept and her eyes were gritty from fatigue. She changed dressings, applied herbal salves, trickled tea and water down stubborn throats and bathed fevered brows. Sometimes she was rewarded with a groan or a sigh. For the most part, though, they just lay there.

"Fuu-chan, I hear voices!" The elder exclaimed as they hurried to the room.

"Oh, please," she breathed and shoved open the door.

There they were, her friends, awake. They were beaten, battered, bruised....and beautiful. They were also very hungry. Fuu laughed aloud, only too happy to grant Mugen's usual blunt request for food. She sat on her heels between them watching them eat. She was too happy and too tired to say anything and just marveled at the miracle of their recovery.

"Fuu?" Jin questioned softly. He had glanced her way and noticed her glassy, vacant expression. "Are you okay?"

The young woman smiled a little and slid bonelessly to the floor.

"What the hell?" Mugen put his bowl down and shook her foot roughly. "Wake up!"

The elder eyed the tanned man a little sourly and cleared his throat to get their attention. "Ahem, young .....masters. Fuu-chan has cared for the two of you like children this past week. She's exhausted."

Both men looked faintly embarrassed at that and looked down at the petite woman sprawled in a heap on the floor. Jin gently rolled her to her back. Absently touching the bandaging over his wound he frowned thoughtfully.

"I....don't think I can move her right now," Jin admitted reluctantly.

"Me either. Left arm not working well, you know."

Both men slid their gaze to the wizened old man watching them.

Mugen snorted out a laugh. "Yeah, right."

The elder drew himself up indignantly. "I will make Fuu-chan more comfortable. You two will take advantage of the hot spring and bathing housedown the path from here. It will help the soreness and stiffness and..." His old eyes glittered with malice at the tanned man. "You reek."

Jin looked even more embarassed while Mugen simply radiated hostility at being told to bathe like a child. Nevertheless, both men rose from their crossed-leg positions with barely stifled groans. The elder watched them sway and shuffle out the door, Mugen cursing under his breath at the distance to the bathing house. When they were gone the elder moved to rearrange Fuu's limbs more comfortably, loosened her obi and placed a small round pillow beneath her head.

"Oh, Fuu-chan," he muttered. "You are the only daughter of a samurai. I think your father would have wanted more for you."

At the bathing house both men shucked the pieces of their tattered clothing and sank into the hot spring. Mugen was content to just sit there up to the neck in the hot, soothing water, but Jin dunked his own black head and reached for a cake of soap found in the bathing house. He slowly worked a lather into his mane of tangled silk, removing all traces of blood and sweat before soaping his aching body. Then he just relaxed in the water, not noticing that Mugen had moved very close and was leering mischieviously.

A tanned hand closed around some of the inky black locks, pulling them slightly. Jin blinked water from his eyes and looked into a smirking face.

"Mugen, what are you doing?" He hissed.

The smirk broadened. "Just wondering how you keep your hair so long and pretty as a girl's. Got a bit of a feminine side, ne?"

Black eye narrowed dangerously. "Mugen, do you remember that I said I no longer wanted to kill you?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"I changed my mind," Jin growled between his teeth, the threat evident in his tone.

Mugen pulled the hair in his hand. "With what?" He sneered. "Your katana is gone and I have no blade either."

Jin closed his eyes quickly and Mugen released the hair as a spasm of real grief rippled over the pale face at the mention of the lost sword.

"Idiot. Doesn't matter to me that you prefer to look like a damned woman. Your hair is almost as pretty as Fuu's."

Jin reopened his eyes and kept his back to Mugen while he stepped from the spring. He carefully hid the small smile that was tugging on the right side of his lips. Wrapping a towel around his waist he decided it was time for a little payback.

"You think Fuu has pretty hair?" Jin asked, innocently.

Caught off guard, Mugen answered without thinking. "Sure, it's this really deep brown and has these glints sometimes when she's sitting close to the fire or in the sun or..."

Mugen trailed off, chagrined that he had taken the bait. Jin had to duck as a seeming tidal wave erupted from the spring.

"Screw you , fish face!" Mugen was livid.

Jin gave Mugen the first real grin he had ever seen from the man and gathered his soiled hakamas to return to the house.

After Jin left Mugen settled back into the water trying to figure out what had just happened and why he was even mad about it. He scowled into the water as if it held the answer and was withholding it.

'The hell with it' Mugen thought. Obviously, Jin was just insulted by being compared to a woman, even one as skinny and unfeminine as Fuu.

Mugen picked up the soap Jin had left behind and brought it to his nose to sniff. The sandalwood scent wasn't to his liking, but he figured cleaning up a little would be better for his injuries. He was definitely not bathing for the benefit of his companions or to please some shriveled old man.

Back in the little house Jin had found dry clothing left by the old man and a note explaining he had gone to the mainland for supplies. He would be gone a couple of days and asked that Jin watch over Fuu. Jin even found a thong to tie back his hair into his habitual ponytail. Fuu slept undisturbed before the fire, and Jin rolled out a mat for himself. He wasn't at all happy with how weak he felt but resigned himself to a recovery period. With a sad sigh, he rubbed his hands over the ruin of his daisho. All that remained of his katana was the hilt and a short piece of broken blade. Jin shoved it out of his line of vision, turned to face the fire and closed his eyes.

Mugen returned late in the evening. He didn't immediately seek a mat for himself but instead sat next to Fuu. The old man's comment about Fuu caring for them all week wasn't setting well with the loner. No one had ever cared for him before and it left him uneasy to know she had been. His mind replayed some past events. Mugen stared into the fire and images flickered through his brain.

Fuu tending his slashed palms. Fuu crying when she found him washed up on the beach after the betrayal. Fuu waiting expectantly beside him while he lay there plotting revenge. Fuu throwing herself over his body and begging the blind assassin not to kill him. Fuu helping him back to the hut and patching him up again. Fuu with tears in her eyes when she refused to leave him alone. And finally, Fuu leaning over him and calling him when he thought he was dying. After that was some vague feelings of cool fingers on his cheek, whispered pleas and the scent of flowers.

Mugen pulled his gaze from the fire to look at the small woman beside him. He reached out a hand and turned her face more fully into the light. Her usually shiny hair was tangled and straggling around her face. Mugen could see the dark swelling around her left eye and bruises blooming on her face and neck. Where her kimono was loose he could glimpse tight wrappings much like his own. Anger twisted in his guts. He might have gotten her free, but he hadn't gotten there in time to keep them from hurting her pretty badly. Mugen just hoped the bastards were suffering eternally in their own personal hells. He rubbed his knuckles over his breastbone trying to erase an unfamiliar feeling gnawing at him.

Fuu startled Mugen from his reverie. She was twisting in her sleep, caught in the throes of a nightmare. A thrashing arm hit him in the side and Mugen drew back with a hiss of pain. He pinned the arm but Fuu only fought more wildly, still asleep.

"Mugen, Mugen!" Fuu cried out in despair.

The tanned man was at a total loss. There wasn't a single thing in his life experiences to give him a clue what to do now. He looked over at Jin, but the ronin hadn't moved. No help there unless he asked for it. Holding Fuu down wasn't working, and Mugen didn't think shaking her would do much good either. The woman's struggles grew more frantic and she called for him again.

Mugen just gave in. He lay down behind Fuu and wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her tight to his chest.

"I'm here. You're safe. I'm here." Mugen whispered into her ear. "I've got you. They can't hurt you anymore. I'm here, Fuu."

Fuu burrowed into his chest and calmed somewhat only trembling occasionally. This close, Mugen could smell her flowery scent. He started to get drowsy himself and tucked the woman more comfortably under his chin all the while whispering reassurances. Oblivion claimed the mismatched pair and it was quiet. On the other side of the fire the quietly watching ronin quit observing through the screen of his dark lashes and tried to sleep.