Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Nothings ❯ Through Foggy Lenses ( Chapter 3 )

[A/N]

 

Wai! So sorry, someone pointed out that Jin didn't really need his glasses for better vision as he did for accessorizing… Ah, so I went back and fixed some of the story to compromise with this fact. Like I said before, haven't seen the entire series to get all the facts, so please forgive my blunder.

 

[Disclaimer]: All rights to Samurai Champloo belongs to Shinichiro Watanabe.

 

 

+++

 

 

Sweet Nothings

 

By Youkai Yume

Chapter 3: Through Foggy Lenses

 

 

It was a numbing walk down the familiar dirt path. Jin wasn't sure why he was doing this, or why he chose to leave Fuu back in that lonely house atop that sullen hill. The girl didn't even notice that he left, having fallen asleep once more from her body's exhaustion. He preferred it that way. If she knew that he was leaving, he knew what she would say. He could already hear the protests, the excuses and reasons she would give him for not going through with it.

 

She'd say that she wasn't worth the trouble, and Jin just didn't want to go through that long process. He had made up his mind and would not be deterred. A growing feeling of guilt and worry crept throughout the samurai with each step that he took. He didn't like the idea of leaving Fuu all alone now. Even for a second.

 

But it was quickly shaken away when he laid eyes on his destination. Fuu had managed to take care of herself before he came, and he was sure she would be all right by herself. He just hoped that when he returned, Fuu wouldn't be too irritated with him.

 

With a deep breath, Jin entered the restaurant where Fuu worked.

 

“Good evening, How may I help—Ah!” The old man's eyes crinkled with his smile. “You're that fellow from yesterday. Come in! Come in! Do you need anything?” He quickly pulled the samurai to a nearby table and seated him.

“I'm here about Fuu,” Jin began sternly. The shopkeeper's expression quickly turned into that of concern.

 

“Is she alright? I know that she hasn't showed up yet, but…”

“She's not feeling well today,” he said softly, resisting the urge to clench his fist at the understatement of the year.

 

“Again, huh?” The elderly man sighed and rubbed the bald spot on his head slightly. “Well, I suppose it can't be helped. I don't want another collapse like yesterday. Somehow, I don't think it's because she's been overworking.”

 

Jin couldn't bring himself to say anything. It seemed as if Fuu's own employer didn't know the extent of her condition. He wondered how many people did.

 

“That all you came here for?” the shopkeeper inquired, and was mildly surprised to see the samurai shake his head. “Then you've come to fill in for her then?”

 

“Actually…”

 

 

+++

 

 

He found her sitting by the door with her usual pink kimono on and hair tied up as usual. She had her head leaned against the frame and her hazel eyes stared into the far off distance as if she were some sort of deep trance. In fact, she hadn't even noticed that Jin had arrived until he took his first steps onto the porch that she blinked out of her own little world and looked back up at him in what he saw was relief and shock.

 

“Jin…” his name ushered out of her lips as if she were shocked to see him at her doorstep. “You're still here…”

 

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her as she stood up to meet his gaze. She was still shorter than him by a head at least, he thought idly. It was then that he truly saw how frail she had become, despite the amounts of food she consumed.

 

“Where did you go?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

 

“To take care of some business,” was his short answer. This didn't seem to satisfy Fuu, for her eyebrows knitted together in thought.

 

“What kind of business? Is it something important? You can tell me, Jin,” the girl urged, looking hopeful. The samurai looked away, clearly hesitating.

 

“…Starting tomorrow, I'll be working at that restaurant with you.”

 

For several moments, it grew deathly silent. Jin normally preferred it, but this on unnerved him. Fuu only blinked, as if registering what he said into her mind. Then…

 

“WHAT?!”

 

The samurai mentally winced at her shrill voice. “I got a job at the restaurant as well.”

 

“You can't work there with me! You've got places to go, the manager's not hiring, is this about my collapse the other day—“

 

“Fuu.”

 

“Because I SWEAR it doesn't happen often—“

 

“Fuu,” Jin said sternly, stepping closer to her so that only two feet separated them. “It's only part-time. I'll be looking for other jobs around here, so it's only temporary,” he explained calmly. Fuu's eyes widened, as if she realized what this meant. If he was looking for a job HERE, then that meant he was going to be staying. But…

 

“Why?”

 

“…”

 

His silence was all it took to answer her question. She knew exactly why, and it made her happy yet at the same time unbearably sad. But she didn't say anything, and that relieved Jin because he didn't want to talk about it either. They both understood each other then and there, even if all Fuu wanted to do was cry. Even if all Jin wanted to do was tell her that it would be all right.

 

“I…I thought you had already left,” Fuu said quietly, as if she didn't want the samurai to hear. But he did hear it, and he could hear something else when she said it too. She was saddened by the thought that he would leave her, and relieved that he was still here, standing before her in the evening sunlight.

 

Jin remembered the sight of her before this moment, of her waiting outside with that distant look in her empty hazel eyes. And in that one moment Jin forgot everything else that he had set out to do, and only time mattered. Time in which he had left with the girl who had forgotten how to smile properly and it was indeed, little time.

 

He approached her slowly, and she watched him as he brought his hands up to grasp her slender shoulders and squeezed them gently, reassuringly. Their eyes met. Hazel to dark slate gray.

 

“I'm not going anywhere Fuu,” Jin told her softly, and when she gave him the tiniest of smiles, no matter how empty it was, Jin knew. There was no way he could possibly leave her side now.

 

 

+++

 

 

There were things he noticed about Fuu lately. Like no matter how early he woke up in the morning, the young girl would find a way to wake up earlier than he did. It didn't even matter if she slept early or late or if she had been completely exhausted the night before, she still managed to do it. Perhaps Jin was losing his samurai discipline and was becoming domesticated, or maybe Fuu just had this timer in her head that told her when to wake up and it rang promptly at “Before Jin.”

 

There was also the fact that when she balanced plates, she had that concentrated look on her face. You know, the one where her tongue is sticking out of her pink lips in concentration and her brows are knitted together as she looked at all of the food to make sure nothing had fallen off. Or how sometimes, as she brought back the empty trays, she liked to sneak a dumpling off of the chef's prepared meals when no one was looking.

 

Of course he noticed these things when he was with her at work. And whenever he caught her, Fuu would always give him `the look.' The one where she looked like a wounded puppy and she'd just stare at him until he sighed and went back to his own business, pretending that he'd never seen her commit the deed.

 

And there was one thing that made them alike in a way. Both of them didn't like to talk about their problems. Jin would look at her everyday, telling himself that she wasn't growing paler, or thinner, and she'd tell him she was fine. That she was getting better, really she was. It was why she hadn't said anything about him working for extra money to buy better medicine. And it was why she pretended that they lived their lives as if she wasn't dying at all.

 

Of course, just because you said or thought them, didn't make them real. He knew it. She knew it. But they'll never voice it. Sometimes, as Jin was washing the dishes in the kitchen and staring at the dirty water in the tub, he wondered about this so-called life that they were living.

 

He knew that living in the same house with a young girl was undignified, but it seemed natural and sensible to do so. The samurai had to be near in case anything were to happen to her, and Fuu didn't complain in the least when he asked her if he could stay. At the very least, she hadn't suffered from one of her attacks since then, and even if she did he was sure that she'd try to hide it. Very unlikely though, for Jin knew Fuu was an awful liar. But there was something different when it was just the two of them.

 

He treated her as if she were fragile glass that would break if he let anything touch her, and in return she spoke to him sometimes as if he was only her guest instead of a friend. All in all, even now that they were housemates and lived under the same roof, it wasn't the same as before. It wasn't like when they were all traveling together, and there was that sense of close kinship. For some reason, they were tense around each other, polite and tight-lipped.

 

One step forward, two steps back.

 

Jin didn't know why he cared if Fuu didn't talk to him as much as she used to, because he usually enjoyed solitude. But he did. Jin did care, and he admitted that he missed Fuu's inane chattering and warm smiles. They all seemed distant now.

 

He couldn't blame her though. Even though they lived together, they don't speak or meet much during the day. At work, they were always too busy to be talking, and Jin only worked part-time anyway. The rest of the day, the samurai would take up any odd job that he could find, from hired mercenary or bodyguard to the street vendor who sold noodles that were overly spicy.

 

When he got back, it would already be dark, and Fuu would be waiting with dinner out, and they'd usually eat in silence. Sometimes, he was alone in his company because Fuu was too tired and went to bed early.

 

Just passing each other by.

 

There were times when the samurai questioned if Fuu was angry with him in some way, even if he didn't know what it was exactly he could have done to make her mad. It didn't seem that way though, but it did seem like she was almost sad every time their eyes met. Jin scarcely wanted anyone's company, but he admitted that he missed Fuu's. Especially now, since he didn't know how much time he'd get to have left with her. He wondered if she still lay under the stars every night to make a wish. He didn't know; he never got back early enough, and it wasn't something he'd ask.

 

It would be worth it though, he told himself, because he was doing it for Fuu. To be near and protect her always, just like he always did. And that was all that ever mattered. Still…the samurai wondered if things would ever be the same for them, and if Fuu ever missed him too.

 

 

+++

 

 

“I'm going on my break now,” Fuu called out to the shopkeeper from the back door. Jin watched as she disappeared outside, no doubt to get a breath of fresh air. Even long after she had left, he stared at the spot where she had been. `She's tired,' Jin noted. `More than usual.' It wasn't until the chef coughed behind him that the samurai resumed his duty of drying the dishes. A chuckle echoed throughout the room.

 

“You sweet on her, or somethin'?” Kenta, the burly looking cook teased slightly while chopping up some green onions. Although he was tall, the man was only about two or three years older than Fuu. Jin put one of the plates on the shelves and looked back with expressionless eyes.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Well,” he paused for a second, thinking about it, “A guy like you, in a place like this? You're always lookin' out for her. Starin' sometimes like she's somethin' else,” Kenta pointed out. “Plus, you showed up with Fuu one day, right? Ever since then you've been comin' in with her every mornin'.” Jin narrowed his eyes at this assumption, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

 

“You are mistaken. Fuu and I are merely friends.”

 

“Sure, whatever,” Kenta laughed, and this in turn peeved Jin a bit. But he tried his best to ignore it. “Hey, don't get your feathers ruffled. I know how it is.” The young chef grew serious. “It's easy how it comes, isn't it?”

 

Jin stared at him, not sure what he was saying.

 

“Worryin' about her I mean,” Kenta clarified, checking up on the soup. “I remembered when she showed up outta nowhere one day. Poor thin', all hungry and beat. Luckily, our manager was kind enough to give her free eats, though he might have regretted it after he saw how much the lil' lady could eat.”

 

Jin resisted a smile at this. Fuu always said that she had an extra stomach for free food.

 

“She begged for a job. Said she needed it, and that she'd work real hard to earn her keep. I personally think she works too hard, ya know?” He put a hand to his forehead, imitating a fainting motion and smirking. Jin only stared back stoically. “I always wondered what a girl like her was doin' all by herself. Pretty lil' thin' like her without a guy, makes me wonder,” Kenta sighed. “Sometimes, I can't help but think it might be easier on her if there was someone there to take care of her.”

 

At this point, a sad smile crept upon the chef's lips and he turned away from Jin, pretending to be more concerned over the curry and noodles. “That's why I offered to marry her.”

 

The last part came quietly, but Jin had caught it, and he now had his full attention. The samurai's dark eyes seemed to study the man before him with such intensity that it could have burned a hole through his kimono, and an unknown feeling of unease rose within his chest when he realized that this time, Kenta was not joking.

 

“You proposed to Fuu?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of him. Kenta scratched his hair and laughed once more.

 

“Yeah, but she turned me down flat. I asked her if there was another guy. She told me there wasn't. So when I asked Fuu why, she just told me that bein' with her was pointless. I dunno, I just couldn't convince Fuu…” Kenta said sadly, “I guess she has her own reasons, and I won't pry. But it doesn't stop me from worryin' about her,” he gave a lopsided grin Jin's way. “Fuu's a funny girl that way.”

 

Dark eyes remained on Kenta for a few more moments, realizing he understood what the man said and felt.

 

“Ah,” he answered, turning back to his dishes just as Kenta turned back to his stove, not sure why he felt oddly relieved. Behind them, they heard footsteps coming in from the backdoor and a feminine yawn followed shortly after.

 

“I'm back,” Fuu announced, smiling at the both of them in the room. Kenta gave her a full-blown grin while Jin nodded silently at her. “Ooh, Kenta-san that smells good…” she crooned, eyeing the plate he had just prepared.

 

“Nuh-uh,” The chef shook his finger at her, “No free samples this time!”

 

“Aw, you're mean, Kenta-san,” she pouted playfully before returning to her waitressing duties. On her way out, Fuu's eyes met Jin's. But only for a second, then she turned away as if she was afraid to look at him. Inwardly, Jin felt something tighten within his stomach, and he found himself having no desire to talk to Kenta anymore for the rest of the day.

 

 

+++

 

 

It was growing dark by the time they were done. Jin decided that because the restaurant was so busy that day, he wouldn't bother going out and looking for extra jobs. When the last of the customers cleared out and everything was cleaned and polished for the next day, all of the employees bid each other goodbye and headed for home.

 

The two of them walked in silence, Jin treaded slowly ahead with Fuu trailing behind. For a moment, the samurai expected her to break out into pointless conversation as he was so used to her doing. But of course, it never came. She only looked at her feet that lead her down a path she knew well, and Jin noticed what it was about Fuu that made her so different.

 

She was like the clouds that currently swirled above them: gloomy. He wondered why…

 

“Eep!”

 

The sudden sound of something crashing to the ground brought Jin's head whipping around. There on the ground was Fuu, who was looking slightly disgruntled at her shoe; cheeks puffed out.

 

“Tsk, it broke…” she mused to herself, glaring at the offending object with its' broken strap quite intensely. Perhaps if she stared at it long enough, the shoe would magically fix itself. Of course when it didn't work, Fuu's expression turned sour and a light flush stained her cheeks. Jin could have laughed at the almost cute picture that she made.

 

Mentally sighing to himself, he walked towards the still pouting girl and kneeled, with his back turned to her. From the corner of his eye, Jin could see Fuu looking at him in complete confusion.

 

“Get on,” he instructed her. This made her blush and she shook her head in embarrassment.

 

“It's not like I broke my legs or something like that! I can still walk.”

 

“Your feet will get dirty,” Jin said obviously. However, internally he was quite bemused at what he just said. Dirty feet? Since when did the samurai care about such petty reasons, let alone offering such a gesture to the girl? And she did have a point—she wasn't injured to the point that she was handicapped. The longer he thought about it, the more Jin realized how completely useless carrying her would be. After several moments in which he was sure Fuu had come to the conclusion that he was not himself, he felt two arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

 

“Okay,” Fuu's voice said into his ear.

 

He picked her up easily off of the ground. Her shoes were dangling by his side as he held them in his right hand. Without another word they continued on their way, but it was not comfortable silence. It was awkward.

 

Fuu lay her head against his shoulder, and he could feel her warm breath against his neck, tickling the skin there. For several moments, Jin thought up of ways to strike up a conversation and hopefully get past this invisible wall that had somehow built itself between them without his noticing. But his mouth remained shut and not a word came out. He cursed himself for his lack of skill when it came to speech.

 

“You know, you don't have to do this you know,” Fuu said softly, lifting her head to look at him.

 

His grip on her legs and shoes tightened for a split second. “It's quite alright, you're actually very light,” Jin assured. Her weight on his back really was very comfortable, and he actually quite enjoyed carrying her like this…

 

“No, not that.”

 

He was looked at her from the corner of his eye, confused. A light sigh could be heard and she seemed to slump against his form.

 

“What I meant was, you don't have to stay here with me, if you don't want to,” he stiffened at this, but said nothing as he treaded on, holding his breath. “I know you're working to try to earn extra money in order to help with my medical expenses, and I know you're afraid that if you leave I'll die.”

 

Jin paused in mid-step for a second before continuing. He couldn't believe Fuu said that so blatantly. But the fact of the matter was…she was absolutely right.

 

“Fuu…”

 

“I'm not a little girl anymore, Jin. I'm 18; I can take care of myself.”

 

“Don't you think I know that?” Jin whispered before he had a chance to stop himself. He did know, dammit. He knew very well that Fuu wasn't the same girl that he had met all those years ago. He knew she was capable of looking after herself and living a life without him. With her soft, lithe body pressed against his back and warm breath that brushed against his neck, he knew very well that she wasn't a little girl anymore. Jin tried to shake these intruding thoughts out of his head, not sure where they came from.

 

“What about Shino?” Fuu asked bluntly, her tone of voice getting a bit tense. “If you're here with me, then what will happen to her? You didn't forget, did you?”

 

“…No, I haven't.” He wished that she would just drop this whole subject. He cared about Shino, yes. But he cared about Fuu too, and it wasn't a crime for him to be concerned about her well being. She was the closest friend that he had ever had in his entire lifetime, and she meant something to him. Shino would have to wait, for how much longer he didn't know. But he knew the kind woman would've understood. Frankly, Jin wished that she would just drop the whole subject.

 

After all, Jin didn't like talking about his problems.

 

“Is it pity?” Her voice turned cold, so much so that it almost sent a shiver up Jin's spine.

 

“What?”

“Because if you're only here with me out of pity, then I'd rather you leave right now.”

 

Jin had never heard Fuu sound so harsh in his entire life. He glanced back at her, only seeing that she was one hundred percent serious.

 

“I can walk home.”

 

He felt something akin to disbelief spread throughout his entire body as she slowly began struggling to get out of his grasp. How could she even—

 

“It's not pity, Fuu,” Jin said sternly. The girl didn't seem to believe him but stopped her squirming altogether.

 

“Then what is it then? You know there's nothing that can be gained by being here. You can't stop it. You can help me get the best care in the world, but it won't save me.”

 

“I know that!” He wanted her to stop, even if it was the most honest she had been with him in days. Even if she spoke the truth and she couldn't stop because she needed him to understand. He didn't want her to say it…please, if she didn't say it then it wouldn't be true—

 

“You can't save me, Jin.”

 

That one statement encased in a whisper seemed to bring the entire world to a halt. The wind blew through their bodies; a cold, unforgiving wind. And above them the sky grew grayer still. He felt something warm and damp seep through the cloth on his shoulder, and he didn't have to look back to know that Fuu was crying.

 

It was if, in telling this one truth to Jin, she was admitting it to herself. And it hurt. It hurt them both. She mumbled something incoherent. Something that was mixed in between apologies and shock that she had let these words slip. Her fingers grasped the loose cloth at the back of his shoulders desperately. A simple gesture that spoke of lost hope and aching loneliness; it was a pleading cry that said that even though she said it aloud, she was still afraid to go back.

 

Back to being alone.

 

“I won't abandon you, Fuu,” he said gently, soothingly to her. She lifted her head in surprise; not sure if what she had just heard was real or not. “Even if there isn't anything I can do. Even if everything will be in vain, I have to try. I have to.” And that was the truth too.

 

It hit her so hard that she was unable to cry or speak for entire minute, and before he knew it, her arms wound around his neck once more, warm and inviting. Her head rested against his shoulder, as it should be, and he could feel her lips turn in a smile against his neck as she sighed in contentment.

 

And he realized—This. This was why he was still here. The simple moments when Fuu just looked at him, touched him, and he felt needed. To know that another human being needed him, and solely him to just stand beside her. He doubted if Fuu remembered what something like that felt like. But he vowed he'd remind her once more. Just once more…

 

Because Jin didn't want to back to being alone either.

 

Small water droplets fell onto his face, and both of them looked up at the sky at the sensation. A low rumbling echoed throughout the dark clouds that hung overhead, and pretty soon, the little droplets of water were coming down faster and heavier.

 

“Oh no, it's raining!” Fuu groaned, looking up at the sky crestfallen. “No way we can make it back dry now.”

 

“Yes we will.”

 

“What—Hey!!!”

 

Before she knew what was going on, Jin had broken off into a full sprint, causing Fuu to hold onto him tighter than ever. He inwardly smirked at her amazement at how fast the samurai was going even with her added weight; but then again, she had seen his speed in battle before and shouldn't be too surprised…

 

It was getting harder to see as the rain pelted all around them, seeping into their clothes and splattering on their skin, making it so unbearably cold that she could have sworn even Jin was shivering. Still, he showed no signs of stopping, and he could tell the girl on his back worried about tripping and falling if they didn't slow down.

 

“Jin…”

 

“Almost there,” he urged. When they had finally reached the house, Fuu shakily slid off of his back and sat in a slump in the middle of the hardwood floor of the main room. They were both panting, despite the fact that he had done all of the work and Fuu did nothing at all.

 

“Well, that did a lot of good,” she started, looking at him with a sort of amused smile. “We still got completely soaked.”

 

Jin observed Fuu as well, and then himself, realizing that she was absolutely right. Both of them were dripping wet from head to foot and were creating small puddles of rainwater on Fuu's once nice dry floor. He wasn't sure if he was just tired or not, but his vision suddenly started blurring.

 

Something rang throughout the room, something that sounded suspiciously like Fuu's laughter.

 

“J-Jin!” Her voice was strangled in between her merciless giggles, “Your glasses, they're fogging up!”

 

He blinked once, then took off his spectacles to see that everything was less white than before and sighed internally in relief. For a minute there he really thought he was going blind. Jin stared at the girl in front of him, still shaking with laughter and he tried very hard to scowl, but failed.

 

It had been…so long since he had heard her laugh like that. It was beautiful, and he half-wished that she'd never stop.

“Don't move, I'll be right back.” Before he could say anything, Fuu had left taking his glasses as she did so, leaving him alone in the room with only the pitter pattering sound of raindrops to keep him company. He heard her return seconds later, appearing right in front of him in a kneeling position. Something draped over his head and shoulders and it wasn't until he felt small hands rubbing it through his hair and face that he realized Fuu was drying him with a towel.

 

She was still giggling, and he didn't mind in the least. He even reveled in the feel of her fingers running through his hair, drying the silken strands as she did so. Something brushed his nose and ears, and Jin realized that she had returned his glasses to him.

 

“I cleaned them for you,” Fuu said proudly, continuing her fuss over him. Under normal circumstances, Jin wouldn't have liked her touching him, much less drying him off like this. He would've told her that he could do it himself, but this time…this time all Jin could really do was sit there and watch her. He watched as strands of her brown hair clung to her face and neck, and the pink cloth of her kimono cling to the curves of her body. He watched as the drops of water trickled down her flushed face and smiling lips, and couldn't tell whether they were raindrops or tears.

 

And he couldn't help but smile. There…everything was normal again. Well, whatever it was that was considered normal for the two of them. Jin knew that the invisible barrier that had kept them at a distance from each other had been lifted, because Fuu was smiling again, and that was all that really mattered.

 

She gazed at him with hazel eyes that spoke of tenderness and kindness. Things he knew he didn't deserve from her.

 

“Thank you, Jin,” she said softly, sitting beside him.

 

He let his dark eyes wander to the door for a second, revealing a sky that was shedding its' tears. Normally, when Jin looked at the rain, all he could remember was sadness.

 

But today…just for today, he'd remember this moment, of the feeling of peace that it brought. And he'd remember Fuu.

 

`No, Fuu…Thank you.'

 

 

+++

 

 

If I let go of your hand that's clasping mine,

With that, at this moment, it would all probably come to an end

 

+++

 

 

+End Chapter+

 

 

[A/N]

 

Thank you all so much for the reviews! A lot of you have a very healthy wish that Fuu will magically become heart cancer-free. Ah, I don't guarantee any happy endings…

 

That last quote was from Maaya Sakamoto's song, “Into the Light” which fits the theme of this story perfectly. If you ever have the time, check it out.

 

Please READ AND REVIEW! As always. No flames please if you plan to insult me because of my pairing choice. Criticism welcome, and of course, I appreciate all of the feedback that I can get deeply.

 

Stick around for Chapter 4 coming soon!

 

Thanks and Ja Ne!