Sunflower
folder
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
5,512
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › Samurai Champloo
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
5,512
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Samurai Champloo, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
a meeting of old friends
Sunflower
A/N: I\'m writing this because I\'ve seen the entire series, and no one else seems to have a viable follow up going on, and well, hell I just need to know what happened. Please don\'t flame me if you don\'t ship JinxFuu, that\'s cool. Reviews are appreciated but certainly not expected.
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, or any of the characters therein.
It had been 2 years since he’d last seen her—and there she was, serving food in a teahouse in Edo. Déjà vu notwithstanding, she chattered brightly at her customers who looked on appreciatively while her slightly more feminine form bustled to and fro. To Mugen, she seemed like the female embodiment of the sunflowers he’d seen for the first time on Ikitsuki Island. How fitting that she was the daughter of the “Samurai who smelled of sunflowers.”
Unconsciously, he’d been searching for both she and Jin. At first, he reconciled the feeling as weakness, brushing it off. But he found that whenever he entered a new town, he would look for them, maybe not actively seek them out, but he would make it his business to drop by any place they were likely to be found. He always checked the brothels, knowing Fuu’s propensity for trouble, and the dojos, knowing that Jin would be more than at home there. The teahouses and inns were always an option, but that was usually sort of multi-tasking, he had to eat and sleep, so why not check while he was there? He never asked around, but he always kept his senses alert; listening for the clang of a blade, or a peal of girlish laughter. It had taken him a year to grudgingly admit that he missed the companionship, and another six months for him to acknowledge, (to himself only), that he was actually a better fighter.
Mugen stayed in the shadows across from the busy tearoom. He would test his newest skill: patience. He’d been working on it a little here and there ever since they’d parted ways. And though he would never admit it to the bastard, Mugen was using Jin as his prime example of calm assurance. Oh sure, he was still all action and boasting; “Mr. slash first and ask questions later.” But he’d also found that against some opponents it was better to watch and wait before letting his instincts get the best of him. Maybe he’d be able to beat Jin now that he could dish out some of the same medicine, though he doubted it. Jin’s smug indifference always provoked him. Pushing that thought aside, he now watched and catalogued Fuu’s movements.
Not that she was an opponent. Sure, she’d always been a worthy adversary in an argument. The kindness of her demeanor, which was tempered by her stubbornness, had never ceased to amaze him on their journey. ‘How much has she changed?’ he wondered. As he watched her bounce back toward the kitchen, he caught a far off expression on her face; followed closely by a faint smile. Had she just told herself a joke? Was she remembering their journey?
He thought about their journey all the time. In fact, it had become one of his few happy memories. The trials and tribulations glossed over by his mind were idealized, and he almost longed for the action and comradery of some of their more risky adventures. She would never be his type of girl, he knew that after a week on the road with her, but her spunky attitude and brightness had made him fond of her slowly but surely. Now he harbored decidedly familial feelings toward her. Mugen imagined that he would feel this way toward an adorable younger sister; indeed he fancied himself her Aniki.
She’d cared for them both so much in that short time. Each time they’d ditched her, they’d come back, both feeling somehow obligated. Whenever she’d fallen into danger, which was often, they always saved her. Yes, she’d tricked both he and Jin into becoming friends with of her fierce loyalty and sense of duty, and ability to tell a straight-faced lie. They’d each found a reason to live in her, (even if it wasn’t exactly legitimate). Mugen found that loved her for this reason.
In the church, it had been so important to her that he live that she wouldn’t run. The baka; he had to tacitly promise to live to get her to save her own life. She’d saved his life once, and had been the first face he’d seen after regaining consciousness three times, and still she wouldn’t let him endanger himself for her. She’d thrown herself across his prone body to save him from the Goze-assasin Sara, she’d even cried for his injuries. But Mugen didn’t kid himself. He knew that whatever she felt for him, however profound it might be, didn’t add to more than great friendship.
No, the deeper emotion was saved for Jin. He still remembered how she burned with jealousy when Jin risked himself to free Shino, and later how she begged him to “help” her save him. A few weeks later she suffered the intense guilt she felt for sending him off with Sara and to his “death.” She’d admitted to Mugen that she hadn’t expected him to go with Sara, all teary-eyed. She went out to search for him, and when Jin finally returned, bruised and battered, she was couldn\'t be angrier with him for keeping them in suspense. Sure, she put on a good show of disdain, but it was easy enough to read her relief.
Their riverside interlude had been fairly telling. Mugen wasn’t supposed to have witnessed it, just as Jin wasn’t supposed to wake and force the transpiration. Maybe Jin had been on the edge of offering something akin to love, Mugen didn’t know, but she hadn’t allowed it. She had pushed them both away, needing to believe that she could take care of herself. Fuu most certainly did not want Jin to take care of her out of some ill-borne feeling of obligation. Maybe she was hoping that he would seek her out one day. It was a nice fantasy, though Mugen had never taken the time to find out whether the sentiment was mutual. Actually, the pieces of the Jin-Fuu puzzle didn’t really come together until Mugen had wandered with his own thoughts for a few months. Looking back it seemed so obvious, he wondered why he didn’t pick it out sooner. He probably would have needled them both about it so badly that Fuu would have attacked him, but it might have been worth it.
Broken from his silent reverie, he noticed that she was now leaving the teahouse, perhaps her shift was over? Mugen walked over to her purposefully, but Fuu was so lost in thought that instead of looking up, smiling widely and maybe even hugging him, she ran right into the “wall of Mugen.” Attuned as his reflexes were, he could have easily avoided the collision, but the “in-your-face” part of Mugen decided that this was as good a way as any to get her attention.
He was in no small way surprised, however, when she sprang away from him like a cat, and no sooner had he thought about it, did she have him on the ground. She straddled his chest, one had across his throat, the other on her pink lacquer tanto. Had it been anyone else, he would have been ready for it. But Fuu had just surprised the hell out of him. She glowered down at him without recognition. He allowed her a moment of triumph, and then easily over-powered her and gently rolled her onto her back, laughing.
“Fuu.”
She started, finally realizing the identity of her attacker. Ok, so maybe she’d attacked him, but it was his own fault for startling her. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts, which were coincidentally of he and Jin, that she hadn’t even noticed his sudden appearance. Fuu swatted at him in protest. There was no longer any need for him to continue restraining her with that self-satisfied smirk. She’d wipe it right off his face… if she could just reach it.
“Ugh! Mugen no baka! Let. Me. Up.”
____________________________________________
(In true Samurai Champloo style) To be Continued...
Expect the next chapter in about a week.
Vocabulary:
Aniki - older brother/protector
baka - stupid
tanto - sheathed knife
goze - blind singer
A/N: I\'m writing this because I\'ve seen the entire series, and no one else seems to have a viable follow up going on, and well, hell I just need to know what happened. Please don\'t flame me if you don\'t ship JinxFuu, that\'s cool. Reviews are appreciated but certainly not expected.
Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo, or any of the characters therein.
It had been 2 years since he’d last seen her—and there she was, serving food in a teahouse in Edo. Déjà vu notwithstanding, she chattered brightly at her customers who looked on appreciatively while her slightly more feminine form bustled to and fro. To Mugen, she seemed like the female embodiment of the sunflowers he’d seen for the first time on Ikitsuki Island. How fitting that she was the daughter of the “Samurai who smelled of sunflowers.”
Unconsciously, he’d been searching for both she and Jin. At first, he reconciled the feeling as weakness, brushing it off. But he found that whenever he entered a new town, he would look for them, maybe not actively seek them out, but he would make it his business to drop by any place they were likely to be found. He always checked the brothels, knowing Fuu’s propensity for trouble, and the dojos, knowing that Jin would be more than at home there. The teahouses and inns were always an option, but that was usually sort of multi-tasking, he had to eat and sleep, so why not check while he was there? He never asked around, but he always kept his senses alert; listening for the clang of a blade, or a peal of girlish laughter. It had taken him a year to grudgingly admit that he missed the companionship, and another six months for him to acknowledge, (to himself only), that he was actually a better fighter.
Mugen stayed in the shadows across from the busy tearoom. He would test his newest skill: patience. He’d been working on it a little here and there ever since they’d parted ways. And though he would never admit it to the bastard, Mugen was using Jin as his prime example of calm assurance. Oh sure, he was still all action and boasting; “Mr. slash first and ask questions later.” But he’d also found that against some opponents it was better to watch and wait before letting his instincts get the best of him. Maybe he’d be able to beat Jin now that he could dish out some of the same medicine, though he doubted it. Jin’s smug indifference always provoked him. Pushing that thought aside, he now watched and catalogued Fuu’s movements.
Not that she was an opponent. Sure, she’d always been a worthy adversary in an argument. The kindness of her demeanor, which was tempered by her stubbornness, had never ceased to amaze him on their journey. ‘How much has she changed?’ he wondered. As he watched her bounce back toward the kitchen, he caught a far off expression on her face; followed closely by a faint smile. Had she just told herself a joke? Was she remembering their journey?
He thought about their journey all the time. In fact, it had become one of his few happy memories. The trials and tribulations glossed over by his mind were idealized, and he almost longed for the action and comradery of some of their more risky adventures. She would never be his type of girl, he knew that after a week on the road with her, but her spunky attitude and brightness had made him fond of her slowly but surely. Now he harbored decidedly familial feelings toward her. Mugen imagined that he would feel this way toward an adorable younger sister; indeed he fancied himself her Aniki.
She’d cared for them both so much in that short time. Each time they’d ditched her, they’d come back, both feeling somehow obligated. Whenever she’d fallen into danger, which was often, they always saved her. Yes, she’d tricked both he and Jin into becoming friends with of her fierce loyalty and sense of duty, and ability to tell a straight-faced lie. They’d each found a reason to live in her, (even if it wasn’t exactly legitimate). Mugen found that loved her for this reason.
In the church, it had been so important to her that he live that she wouldn’t run. The baka; he had to tacitly promise to live to get her to save her own life. She’d saved his life once, and had been the first face he’d seen after regaining consciousness three times, and still she wouldn’t let him endanger himself for her. She’d thrown herself across his prone body to save him from the Goze-assasin Sara, she’d even cried for his injuries. But Mugen didn’t kid himself. He knew that whatever she felt for him, however profound it might be, didn’t add to more than great friendship.
No, the deeper emotion was saved for Jin. He still remembered how she burned with jealousy when Jin risked himself to free Shino, and later how she begged him to “help” her save him. A few weeks later she suffered the intense guilt she felt for sending him off with Sara and to his “death.” She’d admitted to Mugen that she hadn’t expected him to go with Sara, all teary-eyed. She went out to search for him, and when Jin finally returned, bruised and battered, she was couldn\'t be angrier with him for keeping them in suspense. Sure, she put on a good show of disdain, but it was easy enough to read her relief.
Their riverside interlude had been fairly telling. Mugen wasn’t supposed to have witnessed it, just as Jin wasn’t supposed to wake and force the transpiration. Maybe Jin had been on the edge of offering something akin to love, Mugen didn’t know, but she hadn’t allowed it. She had pushed them both away, needing to believe that she could take care of herself. Fuu most certainly did not want Jin to take care of her out of some ill-borne feeling of obligation. Maybe she was hoping that he would seek her out one day. It was a nice fantasy, though Mugen had never taken the time to find out whether the sentiment was mutual. Actually, the pieces of the Jin-Fuu puzzle didn’t really come together until Mugen had wandered with his own thoughts for a few months. Looking back it seemed so obvious, he wondered why he didn’t pick it out sooner. He probably would have needled them both about it so badly that Fuu would have attacked him, but it might have been worth it.
Broken from his silent reverie, he noticed that she was now leaving the teahouse, perhaps her shift was over? Mugen walked over to her purposefully, but Fuu was so lost in thought that instead of looking up, smiling widely and maybe even hugging him, she ran right into the “wall of Mugen.” Attuned as his reflexes were, he could have easily avoided the collision, but the “in-your-face” part of Mugen decided that this was as good a way as any to get her attention.
He was in no small way surprised, however, when she sprang away from him like a cat, and no sooner had he thought about it, did she have him on the ground. She straddled his chest, one had across his throat, the other on her pink lacquer tanto. Had it been anyone else, he would have been ready for it. But Fuu had just surprised the hell out of him. She glowered down at him without recognition. He allowed her a moment of triumph, and then easily over-powered her and gently rolled her onto her back, laughing.
“Fuu.”
She started, finally realizing the identity of her attacker. Ok, so maybe she’d attacked him, but it was his own fault for startling her. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts, which were coincidentally of he and Jin, that she hadn’t even noticed his sudden appearance. Fuu swatted at him in protest. There was no longer any need for him to continue restraining her with that self-satisfied smirk. She’d wipe it right off his face… if she could just reach it.
“Ugh! Mugen no baka! Let. Me. Up.”
____________________________________________
(In true Samurai Champloo style) To be Continued...
Expect the next chapter in about a week.
Vocabulary:
Aniki - older brother/protector
baka - stupid
tanto - sheathed knife
goze - blind singer