Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Heart of a Warrior ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

I don't own Samurai Champloo or any of its characters.  Riyana is mine though. "The eyes are the windows to the soul."  - Proverb Really?  I'm writing again in the same week?  Ya.  Inspiration strikes at funny times.  Like a couple weeks from exam time, when I should be studying the circulatory system of my froggie, whom I have named Tim.  Tim likes being chopped open.  I swear.  Maybe.  But he smells funny. Chapter 4 I wonder what she's thinking about?  He was leaning against a convenient rock, across the fire from the woman - Riyana - he reminded himself.  He was content with the world at the moment, basking in the warmth of the fire, ignoring the darkness around him, and digesting his meal. She was sitting across the fire from him, humming an almost inaudible tune as she gazed into the flames.  He strained to hear it a little better.  It almost sounded... sad?  He shivered, wishing he couldn't hear the strange sound now that he'd picked it out. "What'chya singing?" he asked, bored with the silence.  He would never admit that the sad-sounding humming had bothered him, that it had started to bring back things he'd rather not think about at the moment... The golden eyes across the fire blinked.  They were an almost amber color now, darker than they were before.  "Oh... I didn't realize I... sorry."  She got to her feet and moved around the fire, closer to where he was.  "Aren't you tired?  We fought hard today, killing a whole pack of Mazoku..." He looked up at her from his position.  "Nah." "Well I am," she said, wandering over to the storage-cave and pulling something from it and tossing it his way.  He caught it.  It was a blanket, all balled up.  "I'm afraid that's all I have here," she told him, "I usually don't sleep on the ground, and pillows and beds are useless in trees." "S'fine," he muttered, getting to his feet and scanning the surrounding forest for a promising tree.  He began to walk into the woods a little way, and found one that seemed like it would do.  He looked back to see her jumping up to another tree branch, next to the cliff. Shrugging, he turned and climbed up into his chosen tree and stared up at the sky, still thinking. I wonder where she learned to fight.  And why!  What else has she got hidden behind that mask, besides her face?  Why's she helping me anyway?  I thought she made it pretty clear that she usually leaves people who are stupid enough to come through here to their fates. She's a DAMN good cook! He sighed deeply, his thoughts turning another direction.  No one's taken care of me like that since Fuu...  Thinking her name called up her familiar image, the one he'd put together as he'd decided what she probably looked like by now.  Her chestnut hair, her brown eyes...  Her curves filled out a little more, of course - she was older now.  He preferred his women with curves in all the right places.  She's the only one to stick around with me without being paid for it.  Of course, all those times I saved her ass could count as payment...  In the end, she'd left too.  She'd walked away.  Both of them had.  Her and Jin both left me to the dark and went their separate ways.  And apparently they found their ways back to each other without worrying about me.  He sighed.  He had to try and get her back.  He had to try and fill the darkness with the only think he thought would work - the one female companion who'd patched him up so many times.  He'd never admit to the loneliness.  That was a weakness he couldn't afford. She was cute, if annoying.  She was so helpless all the time though...  Now that thought was new.  He had thought he'd liked being the big hero.  It felt nice to have someone depend on him for everything.  And he could always play the hero when he saved her ass.  He shrugged and resumed his musings. Damn that woman is a good fighter though!  The Mazoku, she'd called the creatures.  It certainly seemed to fit.  It was so easy to fight next to her.  She was like a partner.  An equal.  Not someone you'd have to save every other second and baby when you weren't saving her sorry ass, another part of his mind muttered.  He stopped, shocked that these thoughts were occurring to him, especially now, when he was on a quest to go find Fuu. It was... interesting... fighting next to a girl.... woman.  Her lines, thought athletic, weren't what anyone could call girlish! Interesting probably isn't the word you're looking for.  He would admit to the rush he got fighting.  He would admit that he usually went to find the closest whorehouse after a fight.  He would NOT admit to the rush being intensified with a woman fighting next to him, instead of cowering behind him. It was nice to have someone watching my back, though.  He discarded that thought before similar ones could follow it.  She would just leave too.  Like Jin and Fuu.  You're on your way to find Fuu, to take her back from Jin, if possible.  You're going to find out if she's the one who'll chase away the darkness.  She's yours.  The only one that would stick around and patch you up after a fight. But he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to have a woman that would watch his back so well that he didn't get injured enough to need to be patched up in the first place. Before he could totally discard that last traitorous thought, his eyes began to drift shut.  The familiar darkness engulfed him in his dreams, hiding the light and binding him with strong chains around his arms and legs and heart.  Dancing flames darted in and out of this darkness, though, lurking on the edge of his awareness.  They brought light that faded in and out of the dark surrounding him. *************************************** She opened her eyes to the morning light, stretching slowly and getting to her feet. Sleeping in a tree with nothing but a blanket after a fight probably wasn't the best idea.  She winced as her sore muscles protested her motions.  They were all that was left of the bone-deep bruises she'd received last night.  She looked down at her arm, pleased to see that the cuts she'd received were nothing more than barely-visible pink lines on her skin.  She blessed the fast-healing People, and the mixed blood that flowed through her veins.  It almost makes it worth it sometimes.  The faster healing, the extra endurance, the stronger bones...  But almost doesn't quite cut it.  It's so lonely being an outcast that no one wants.  A half-blood that somehow managed to survive the venom that kills the full-blooded.  A half-blood with demon venom, that became like the People even as the venom burned its way through her. She jumped down from the branch and dug some dried fruit bars out of her storage-cave, eating a couple herself and leaving the rest of them on a rock below the tree that she found the man - Mugen ­- sleeping in, just inside the forest.  Her gaze rested on his sleeping form for a moment.  I wonder what that was.  Last night, after that battle.  Hell she wondered about during the fight too!  It'd been so easy to fight side-by-side.  So natural it was strange.  She shrugged to herself, deciding to leave off puzzling the mysteries of life and fate for another time, and moved over towards the stream to stretch in the cool of the morning. Breathing deeply, she took up her fighting stance in the middle of the clearing.  Slowly, she drew her swords up, extending her arms to the fullest above her hear.  then she suddenly dropped back down into her stance, muscles relaxed.  She paused for a moment and began her dance.  Her swords dived and darted, weaving around her body in complex patterns.  She threw her whole body into the exercise, reveling the in the feel of the movement.  She spun and kicked and darted around the clearing, slashing at trees and bounding over and around rocks, surrounded by a shield of sharpened steel that brought down imaginary enemies. Here she could ignore the loneliness.  Here, she could pretend to be whole, if only until the dance came to an end.  Here and now, living in the present, the darkness that slowly strangled her couldn't get a hold on her.  Her sputtering fighting spirit flared once more into life behind her razor sharp barrier, and she smiled and reveled in it.  For now, it was enough.  For now, her determination would be enough to allow her to continue to fight, despite the loneliness that dragged at her soul and ate away at her more with every day. For now, she was whole. ************************************ The sun shining through the branches around him brought him back to consciousness.  He rubbed his bleary eyes and looked around himself.  He jumped down from his branch and stretched out, seeing if anything still hurt enough to leave his bandages on - he'd always been a pretty fast healer.  Seeing something on the rock under his tree, he went to go examine it. Oh.  Hell.  Ya.  FOOD!  He grabbed up the bars eagerly and reduced them to crumbs in record time.  Then he sat on the now empty rock and began to slice off his bandages with his sword. He smirked in satisfaction when he saw that the gash on his leg was now scabbed over and well on its way to healing. Still smirking, he began to wander back to the clearing, to get a drink and see what that woman was up to. ------------------- The glint of sunlight on steel caught his eyes as he emerged from the woods.  His jaw dropped and he forgot all about his thirst when he saw her dance of death.  He was mesmerized by the shine of her twin swords, by the sheen of sweat on her skin, the flashes of her flame-bright hair flowing behind her as she darted around the clearing, oblivious to his presence. Wow.  His eyes grew wider as he watched.  Then he blinked and smirked, his breath coming fast, excited.  He drew his own blade once more and jumped to meet her, catching her next downswing on his blade and surprising her, giving her his best cocky smirk. She stopped, blinking in surprise.  "What...?" "Hey missy, wanna spar?!" he growled, breathing deeply the intoxicating smell of her - fruity, with the bite of sweat and the tang of blood from the edges of the scab on his leg. Their eyes locked, her spirit burning deeply in her red-gold eyes.  In his brown eyes, a strength flared just as brightly.  As one, they started to grin in the anticipation of a challenge, her eyes crinkling over her mask, his feral grin growing wider across his face.  She pushed off his sword and jumped back, settling herself back into a comfortable stance, swords at ready. He understood that his challenge had been accepted without a word being spoken.  Grinning in anticipation, he watched her, sword held ready at his side, waiting for her to make the first move.  Together they stood, like two statues in the calm of the cool morning.  Their wary eyes roamed over one another, two warriors, each sizing the other up without even moving a muscle. Somewhere in the forest, a bird call pierced the still morning, and, as one, they leapt towards one another, minds ready for a challenge, and blades ready for blood.