Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Nothings ❯ Kitty-Kitty Jin-Jin ( Chapter 6 )

[A/N]

 

Ah, it's been a while since I updated this fic. Well, a bit longer than I usually update it. But I think I deserved a sort of break, seeing as I write about ten pages for each chapter, nonstop and I updated every one or two days… It's tiring.

 

School started again (nooo! Can't believe I'm a senior already…). I thought this year would be sort of kick-back, but it turns out I'm working harder than ever in my four years of high school… (sob) That, and I sort of dreaded writing this chapter…

 

[Disclaimer]: Nothing belongs to me except for my dignity…Oh wait, I think I lost that yesterday. Crap.

 

 

 

Sweet Nothings

 

By Youkai Yume

 

 

Chapter 6: Kitty-Kitty Jin-Jin

 

 

They sky was still dark outside when he had arisen. Jin stood by his window and stared outside at the pink tinted heavens for a good measure of time; the brisk morning air alerted his senses from the weariness of sleep. Breathing in deeply, Jin allowed himself the rare pleasure of enjoying the coming dawn.

 

Still, even the fresh cool breeze did nothing to rid his clouded mind of the dreams that had plagued him the night before. And the night before that, and the night before that… He wasn't sure when they started. Jin had long since given up trying to figure out what she was doing there of all places and why; he only simply lost himself in the knowledge that there was no other place he preferred her to be.

 

Dreaming was something that occurred very rarely for the samurai, if at all. He wasn't used to seeing them or reading into them, and he didn't think they were ever significant enough to hold his attention. But these dreams were different.

 

Sometimes he remembered them. Sometimes he didn't. It didn't matter, because when he awoke, he was always left with the same feelings: contentment, peace…emptiness, longing. It was the strangest phenomenon, and Jin hadn't the slightest idea what they meant. But he felt them all the same.

 

Of course, when he met with her in sleep, she was no different than the real Fuu. She still smiled that smile that he had grown to adore, and laughed that same laugh that he couldn't imagine living without. In every sense, she was real to him. So real, that sometimes Jin even imagined that there was a place in which people went to in slumber to meet with other people. That he was in fact with Fuu, the real Fuu, and that they were both dreaming the same thing.

 

He never asked her though. It seemed a childish notion, and Jin wasn't known for being childish.

 

It was always different every time he dreamt. Sometimes, it was the three of them again, walking down an unfamiliar road under an unforgiving sun, with only the sound of growling stomachs and Fuu's rambling to keep them company. Other times he was in some sort of dangerous and dire situation, sword drawn out and body rushing with adrenaline and the silent urge to protect. Mugen would be right on his other side sometimes, that same wild, untamed look about in his eyes. Sometimes he wasn't.

 

But she was always there, clutching onto the loose fabric of his haori while he fought or calling out for them in help; calling out for him.

 

But it was all the same. In his dreams, he was able to protect her. Save her. In the end, she would always be rescued because he was always the hero in his made-up stories, as cheesy as that sounded. In a way, Jin enjoyed it not because he liked playing the knight in shining armor, but because he would always know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'd always be safe. He could always keep her safe.

 

However, the dreams that he found the most pleasant and perhaps even disturbing where plain and simple, having nothing to do with gallant sword fights or daring rescues at all. The ones that he dwelled most on where the ones where he was just…with her. It was the way that he could describe it. Fuu was simply with him, sitting or sometimes lying beside him.

 

Times when his head was cradled in her lap, occasionally staring at the cloudy sky above but more than once enamored with the girl who played with his loose strands of hair. He'd always close his eyes when she did that…reveling the feel of her delicate fingers running through his midnight tresses, and showing his contentment with a sort of serene smile on his face, a content purr that hummed throughout his chest.

 

And she'd laugh, giggle perhaps ever so softly and call him her “kitty” endearingly. He didn't mind too much; it was a dream right? Fuu could call him whatever she wanted. His hand would then seek out hers still tangled within his black silken mane, their fingers twining with each other until all he could remember was warmth. The feel of her hand in his always felt more real than anything else.

 

Guiltily, the samurai enjoyed these moments that only lived in the recesses of his unconscious mind. He felt even more ashamed for not wanting to stop them, but crave them as he did. It caused him to think about her more than he thought was healthy and made him uneasy with the strange ache that it brought whenever he looked at her. And it only grew worse as the days passed. It didn't help that he happened to be living with Fuu as well.

 

He had never thought, nor felt so strongly as this in his entire lifetime—not even when he was with Shino. And in that sense, Jin almost felt as if he were betraying her, even if he hadn't truly done anything. As guilty as he felt about it however, he couldn't find it within himself to regret.

 

The room was beginning to get stuffy; he needed to get out of the suddenly suffocating room. He needed to get her out of his head.

 

Almost regretfully, the samurai drew away from the window and looked down at the katana swords that lay sheathed by his futon. One of the sheaths was a bit worn and dirty, and a small crack ran along the side, but Jin couldn't really complain; it had served him well throughout the many years that he had it.

 

Bending down, he picked them up and his glasses (he felt naked without them), and began to creep as silently as he could out of his room and in the hallways. It had been a while since he had been in any skirmish of some kind that required his sword, so he fancied a good early morning practice before Fuu woke up and they'd head for work.

 

After all, Jin couldn't possibly let his skills with the blade become rusty. After his travels with Mugen and Fuu, he knew very well that anything can happen, and he had to be prepared to protect Fuu, even if there wasn't any real apparent danger. Still, it brought Jin a bit of comfort that he could keep her safe this way at least…

 

Besides, if he kept himself busy then his mind would be able to wander to think about…certain things.

 

When Jin finally reached the back door and stepped out into the field, he let out a long sigh. It really was quite pleasant. His hand came up to grasp the hilt of his sword, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as he unsheathed the blade and seeing it gleam in the early rays of light. He had almost forgotten how wondrous it felt to wield it, even if it was only practice.

 

In graceful and swift movements, Jin displayed a series of sword techniques and skill that only the sky bore witness to that morning. He allowed himself to get lost in the dance that he had created with his sword, and almost lost all awareness of his surroundings until he heard a faint rustling nearby.

 

The samurai immediately stopped his training, standing completely still as his ears strained to listen. There it was again, a very tiny swishing noise as if someone was walking through the grass. It was coming on the other side of the house… Still holding his sword, Jin moved with utmost silence to where the sound was being produced. Sharp, dark eyes caught a shadowed figure hunched over in front of the house. A burglar perhaps?

 

With as much stealth as he could muster, Jin cautiously approached the shadowed figure. Whoever it was, they seemed to be so occupied with what they were doing that they didn't even notice his presence in the slightest bit. It wasn't until a soft giggle broke through the silence that Jin allowed his shoulders to relax and his grip on his katana to loosen.

 

“Fuu.”

 

“Ah! Who's there?” She cried, startled and jumping to her feet at once with a panicked look in her eyes.

 

“Fuu, it's all right,” Jin said softly, trying to calm her down. The girl let out a sigh of relief when she recognized his voice and she gazed upon the familiar samurai's face in the meager morning light.

 

“Oh, Jin…” She laughed weakly. “You scared me! I thought you were a bandit or something…”

 

“I was about to say the same thing about you,” he replied, giving her a small amused smile.

 

“What are you doing out here so early?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side so that her loose hair fell over her shoulder and kissed the skin of her neck.

 

“Training,” Jin answered simply, his hand going to the hilt of his sword which was now sheathed and in its' usual place beside his hip. “What about you?” he asked, looking her up and down. Her hands and parts of her yukata—particularly the bottom and knees, where dirtied. Even her left cheek and tip of her nose was sporting a muddy smudge, and he resisted the urge to wipe them away with his hands.

 

Fuu fidgeted on the spot before looking down at the patch of earth in which she was so previously occupied with before. His eyes followed hers and settled upon what lay there. The earth was dug up, and seemingly buried again, as the clumps were messy and popping out of the ground. By Fuu's feet was a bucket of water. Little seeds were littered about, as if they were spilled, and a green pouch lay tipped over, revealing more of the seeds that were pouring out of its' mouth.

 

“They're sunflower seeds,” The girl explained, smiling meekly at the samurai. “You'd think that I'd be sick of them by now, but I guess they'll always be a part of me in some way or another.” A dirtied hand swept some of the strands of hair that had somehow fallen over her face, further dirtying her forehead. Jin could only stare at her with an endearing look only reserved for Fuu.

 

“To be honest, when I first came here, I had also been expecting your house to be surrounded by sunflowers,” the samurai admitted. This caused her laugh once more and he resisted the urge to laugh along with her. “How long have you been up planting them?”

 

“Oh, for a long while now,” Fuu mused, her brow furrowed together in thought of how much time exactly she had spent out there. “I woke up before the sun came up and decided to plant them before going to work. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn't wake you.”

 

Jin mentally sighed…so, she had been here even before he stepped foot out of the house. Once again, the samurai wondered how her mind managed to prod her awake before he did. A complete mystery, considering she used to be the one that overslept the most when they were traveling together—Unless of course he and Mugen (mostly Mugen) were drunk from the night before.

 

“You really should devote more of your time to resting, Fuu,” Jin chided. She shrugged, a content smile playing on her lips.

 

“I couldn't sleep,” she said simply. “Would you like to come and help me with them next time?” Hazel eyes settled once more on the mess of sunflower seeds that were at their feet. “I want…I want to see them bloom,” she said softly, wistfully. “A whole sea of sunflowers…I want to see it before…” Her words trailed off, and she averted her gaze to her feet, which was dusty and dark with dirt.

 

Jin's dark eyes never left her, taking in the sight of her in the morning light that now peaked over the horizons. The golden rays touched her skin, lighting her features. The smudges of dirt and grime on her face and clothes was clearly visible now, strands of her brown hair tangled and messy. The samurai could feel something warm and at the same time painful spread within his body as he looked at her; his words became choked within his throat. He still wasn't able to tell her.

 

She was absolutely beautiful.

 

“I want to see it too…” Her eyes fell on him in wide surprise, and he allowed himself the pleasure of drowning in her hazel depths. “I want to see the sunflowers bloom…with you.”

 

Then he looked away as if embarrassed that he had admitted such a thing, refusing to meet her eyes in which he had been so easily lost in earlier. For a moment the morning was still, the sun creeping further and further upon them until night seemed all but a memory.

 

Behind him, Jin could feel her move closer and closer, and he did not move. Something warm and soft enveloped his hand and held it there gently. He didn't move then either, simply looked down and marveled at their linked hands before settling his calculating gaze on her. An unnamed emotion welled within his chest before he could quell it.

 

She smiled…the smile that he knew was only meant for him—at least, that was what he believed it to be, and will always believe it to be. “Okay,” Fuu whispered, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn't name. “Let's watch the sunflowers bloom.”

 

They stood there for a long time, simply staring at the dug up earth and sunflower seeds. Jin thought about saying a sarcastic remark about how flowers don't bloom overnight but thought better of it. This morning was too beautiful, and he wanted it to last. Even if they were going to be late for work.

 

She still held his hand in hers, and yet he made no move to hold it back. This wasn't a dream, Jin thought, where he could just twine their fingers together and forget the world. Even though he was perilously close. Even though he shouldn't want such things. Something he couldn't comprehend or grasp was slowly taking over him.

 

And Jin was afraid.

 

Fuu must have sensed it, for her grasp on him was reluctantly loosened and he was let go. He missed the warmth already, and for a second, regretted not holding her hand back. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

 

Jin's chest tightened at the thought that he might have hurt her in some way, and berated himself once more for his thoughtlessness. “Why are you sorry?” He was surprised to find that there was no trace of anger or hurt anywhere on her face, and she only blinked at him as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

Then, an amused smirk curved her mouth and she held up both her hands, which were smudged heavily with dirt. The samurai blinked once, not sure what she meant before looking down to his own hand. An involuntary smirk made its way to his lips as he stared at the blackened palm.

 

Fuu laughed, he listened. And all Jin could really think about was what it might have been like to hold Fuu's hand back. More importantly, he wondered what it would have meant.

 

 

+++

 

 

He wasn't sure when she had gotten such a thing, or where she even found it. From the very moment she came home with it bundled in her arms, all he remembered where her incoherent babbles that fell from her lips. They were somewhere in between how adorable and poor it was, and that she couldn't leave it when she found it; to begging and pleading with him if she could keep it.

 

Jin had only looked down at it in distaste then, his dark eyes meeting its' wide and curious amber. Yet, even in all of its' curiosity, he sensed something familiar about it, as if he and it were alike in someway. And that made him uneasy.

 

Still, she had looked at him with those pouting lips and large hazel puppy-dog eyes, and he felt as if he were faced with a little child asking her parent for a toy. The samurai only grunted in annoyance then.

 

“Why are you asking me? It's your house…”

 

“Yes…” Fuu had mused then, a thoughtful look on her face, “But you live here too. It would be inconsiderate if I didn't ask you what you thought of it.”

 

His lips thinned as he took one more look at it. “It looks far from helpless Fuu,” he said stiffly. In fact, the animal was fully-grown.

 

“Him,” Fuu corrected. “It's a boy,” she cooed, snuggling against its gray fur and earning a purr from it. This only caused him to frown further.

 

“Don't you already have a pet?” Jin asked, recalling a certain small flying squirrel. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the little thing since departing with Fuu three years ago. The girl had a despondent look on her face while absently stroking the fur of the bundle in her arms.

 

“Momo-san couldn't live forever,” she replied quietly. Jin immediately felt guilty for: one) bringing it up, and two) implying that he didn't want her new…guest, around. “So can I keep him?” Fuu squeaked again, completely losing her saddened look from before and snapping back to her excited bouncing. The samurai almost sighed at her behavior.

 

But when he got to the bottom of it, he had to admit…he wasn't all too thrilled about Fuu keeping it. He wasn't very good with animals you see… Fuu seemed to gauge his reaction.

 

“You…don't like him, do you?” She asked, crestfallen. At the sound of her hurt voice, Jin felt the familiar tugging guilt once more and he didn't dare look at her face, for he knew that if he did all of his resolve would crumble.

 

Too late. He already had and he nearly cursed himself when he saw that Fuu was close to crying as she held onto the creature lovingly, as if the mere thought of parting with it made her incredibly sad. He could already see the light of his defeat, and sighed. He couldn't refuse…she was too happy with it. And Jin, of course, would let her have anything if it made her happy. Since when did he become such a doormat?

 

“It's not that I don't like him,” he began slowly, his usual calm voice straining. Her hazel eyes snapped up to meet his in a brilliant sparkle that made his breath hitch in his throat.

 

His head declined in a stiff nod. She squealed in delight. Dammit, Fuu was his one, and only weakness. From the corner of his eye, he watched as she cuddled with it as it mewled in pleasure into her chest.

 

“Did you hear that, Jin-Jin? This is your new home now!”

 

The samurai nearly choked. His head whipped around and he stared with a sort of silent shock at the girl who was beginning to skip away with her new pet. Had he heard right?

 

“Jin-Jin…?” He managed to question. Fuu stopped in her tracks, turning around to gaze at him with a sort of mischievously coy look.

 

“That's its' name, silly!” She smiled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and kissed the white diamond-shaped mark on its' sleek and furry head. She left the room, with the animal looking over her shoulder and staring with amber eyes at the samurai that it had been named after.

 

He couldn't help but feel a bit light-headed at this, not sure if she was flattering or mocking him. Jin let out a long sigh and kneeled down at the table. He had a headache. Maybe tea would help.

 

And that was how Jin-Jin the cat came to be.

 

Who knows? Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

 

 

+++

 

 

Over the course of the next few days, Fuu was rarely seen without the company of the cat, and that wasn't an exaggeration. It followed her everywhere like a shadow, and she gladly welcomed it.

 

It was always by her side when she made breakfast in the morning, staring with wide amber eyes and a swishing tail… It even sat with them at the table when they ate their meals. The damned thing even slept in her bed, and it peeved Jin all the more whenever it was his turn to do laundry to see all the cat hair on the sheets and blankets.

 

Jin was surprised that Fuu hadn't taken it with her to bathe, and was silently grateful the cats hated water. He wasn't sure why he disliked the cat so much. It wasn't as if it had done anything directly to anger him. He just didn't like it when the darned thing looks at him with those big amber eyes in a sort of lazy stare and gives off the impression of silent mockery and aloof interest. As if knowing that its' mere presence irked him.

 

The only time that Fuu didn't have the cat was when they went to work. (though the girl had tried to beg with the manager to let her bring it. Thank god he refused.)

 

When the children first learned of it, they wanted so badly to touch and pet it. To Fuu and Jin's surprise, it coiled away from their little fingers and hid. It let no on come near it. You'd think that it would be an affectionate creature with the way it reveled under Fuu's attentions. But perhaps, that was just it.

 

It only wanted Fuu to love it, becoming reduced to nothing more than a purring and mewling mass of kitten when she rubbed its' ears or belly. It didn't come too much of a surprise though that it would be protective of its' owner, hissing and glaring at anyone who came close to the girl.

 

This of course, mainly meant Jin. That was all right with the samurai. He didn't like the cat to begin with.

 

But the only time that Jin really hated it…and he meant truly and honest to goodness hated the cat was in the evening. The stars would be out and the two of them would lay outside to gaze at them just like always. Except, now a certain feline followed them.

 

It always seemed that whenever that she was with it, she was lost in her own little world and the samurai was all but forgotten. He knew it was not Fuu's intention to make him feel this way, he couldn't help but resent her new pet just a little bit more for it.

 

These moments that happened every night, mere breaths that they take when they gaze upon the stars and Fuu would reach for the heavens to find answers while smiling softly at him…these moments belonged to them and solely them. It belonged to him. And though it may have been simple and trivial, Jin cherished that little time in which they devoted themselves to the moon that hung overhead.

 

Between the silence of the night and the rasping of the crickets, Fuu was his for just that moment. Only now…even the small measure of peace that he found with her was being taken away…by a cat. It was stupid and childish, and Jin could go on and on for days about reasons why he found the notion as ridiculous as it was.

 

But the truth of the matter was…the samurai was jealous. Of a cat. Oh how the mighty have fallen! If Satoru—or worse, Mugen knew about Jin's envy he'd never live it down. What would be worse was if Fuu found out, for he surely wouldn't know what to say. After all, he had a reputation to uphold of being indifferent to his surroundings.

 

There was one particular time when Fuu herself unnerved him when she was with the cat however. He remembered it clearly in his mind's eye. It had been their day off and Jin, who, despite his own desire to train in his own thoughts, took Fuu up on her offer to take a walk. Of course, Jin-Jin came along and the samurai secretly played the thought of seeing if a cat really had nine lives.

 

Still, he followed the serenely happy girl until they reached a large oak tree, whose large branches and lush green leaves provided sufficient shade from the sunlight. Jin watched with dark eyes as Fuu took a seat underneath the grand oak, smiling at him to join with the cat still in her arms.

 

He couldn't explain it, but there was something oddly familiar about this place, as if he had seen it before in another life or time.

 

Fuu allowed Jin-Jin to curl upon her lap while she cooed to it sweet endearing words while petting it with tenderness and care, and it purred in contentment—loudly enough to annoy the samurai. He sat a short distance away, trying his best to not be bothered by the almost sickeningly sweet scene that they made.

 

She giggled in amusement at the sounds that it made as she stroked its' shining fur with affectionate care. “My kitty-kitty Jin-Jin,” Fuu cooed, her voice a soft whisper.

 

And it suddenly dawned on him exactly what it was that made this place familiar, made the cat so familiar, and made this very breeze familiar. Slowly, Jin settled his gaze upon the girl, who was still playing idly with its' gray fur. She hummed a sweet tune, and the sound almost melded in perfect harmony with the soft purring that emanated from cat.

 

It was a tune that he could never quite forget, a tune that has been haunting his dreams for too many nights to count. Suddenly, his eyes were playing tricks on him and in Fuu's lap was not Jin-Jin the cat, but Jin himself. The tingling sensation of her fingers in his silky black hair crept into the back of his mind, and before he could stop himself, Jin felt a shiver run through his spine. She had called him “kitty” in his dream too…

 

The samurai rubbed his temples slightly shaking the image from his mind and trying took a deep breath, not realizing he had held it in.

 

“Jin, are you alright?” Dark eyes opened to meet with a concerned Fuu.

 

“I'm fine, Fuu,” he assured her, looking away. “Just a bit of a headache.”

 

Indeed it was a rather bad headache. And his rampaging thoughts weren't helping either. The cat in her lap looked up at him with amber eyes—eyes that seemed to be more knowing than questioning. Was it all just a coincidence? Or was it some sort of sign?

 

He preferred not to think about it at all and let out a tired sigh. Yet despite all of his efforts, it was the only thing that he could think about for the rest of the day.

 

 

+++

 

 

“I'm not coming home with you today.”

 

Jin turned around to look at her and paused in mid-step; his eyebrow raised questioningly. “Oh?”

 

“I have a few errands to take care of after work,” Fuu informed, taking out a little list of things to do and showed it to the samurai. Most of it were things she needed to pick up for either dinner or things that the manager himself had asked her to get.

 

“I'll come with you,” he said, offering to help. Besides, it was a rare occurrence nowadays that he could be anywhere with just Fuu outside of work, and as much as strange as it was, he missed the girl. But she only shook her head.

 

“No, you need to go home and look after Jin-Jin.”

 

He sighed. Once again, that cat stood in his way. It didn't even have to be present in order to irritate him. “It's a full-grown cat, Fuu. I'm sure that it can take care of itself for a day.” Jin was also pretty sure that it had been doing so for a long while before Fuu ever walked into its' life. But he knew saying so would upset Fuu.

 

“I know…” she frowned, chewing on her nail. “But I'd still feel a lot better if you were there. He might get lonely and worried that I'm not home on time.”

 

Jin's eyebrow twitched. Fuu made it sound like it was her husband rather than her pet cat. “It doesn't even like me.”

 

“Pleeeeease?” The girl begged, and he inwardly groaned as he recognized that familiar pout that she used whenever she wanted something.

 

“Fine,” he grunted softly, not sure if he was annoyed at the fact that her world now practically revolved around Jin-Jin, or the fact that she cared more about the cat's well-being than his company.

 

“Thank you,” Fuu sing-songed, giving him a smile that was both appreciative and apologizing at the same time. “I'll be home soon.”

 

The girl went off in one direction, and for a while Jin just stared after her until reluctantly shuffling his own way to the little house he had come to call home with Fuu. Idle thoughts began run through his mind. Like what Fuu was going to make for dinner that night, if she had taken her medicine yet (they recently just ran out of the good medicine and they're currently trying to save up for more), and how far along she was in her paper cranes.

 

By the time the samurai had reached the front porch, he realized just how much he worried over her. Surely it must be unhealthy, even if he couldn't help it. A gray lump of fur was stretched out in front of the door and it slowly came to life upon Jin's arrival. Its' ears twitched, and it looked lazily up at Jin with bored amber eyes.

 

For a few seconds, it was a staring contest between man and feline. It blinked, yawned somewhat and then went slinking off. Where to, Jin couldn't care less. `See, Fuu?' Jin reprimanded the girl in his mind; `It doesn't even want to be near me.'

 

Shrugging the matter off, he sat down with his legs crossed, deciding to spend some time meditating to clear his head of…certain thoughts. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, lost in meditation. At least, trying to get lost in it anyway. No matter how hard he tried, or what he thought of, Fuu would somehow worm her way into them. It was frustrating, and he realized that his face must reflect so, for his eyebrows were knit together, and his jaw was tight.

 

Sighing, the samurai opened his eyes to the afternoon sun. Fuu wasn't home yet… `She'll be angry with me if she finds out I didn't feed that cat,' Jin thought. With much hesitance and sighs, he moved slowly to the kitchen to get some leftovers (he was surprised that they even had any) that the girl had been saving for Jin-Jin.

 

He dumped it into a dish and placed it in its' usual place by the kitchen door, then with a little bit of effort, he clicked his tongue. Fuu had done this many times to call the feline to her; either that or she'd call out for its' name. And Jin refused to do that. Despite all of his efforts however, there was neither hide nor hair of it anywhere.

 

`Ungrateful cat,' The samurai frowned. Oh well, it's the thought that counts, right? Jin-Jin would come and eat when it wants, and when Fuu came home there was no possible way that she could complain about him being neglectful to her pet.

 

 

+++

 

 

Dusk had settled by the time the Jin heard her soft footsteps shuffling about in the house. He had been practicing with his sword out back when she returned home. Tucking his trusty blade back in its' worn sheath, Jin made his way into the house only to find Fuu storing the food that she had just bought away. Surprisingly, there were only a few vegetables and a pork bun or two.

 

“That's it?” He asked, peering over her shoulder and into her basket. “It couldn't have possibly taken you that long just to get this much.”

 

“I know,” Fuu shuffled her feet a bit, as if she was nervous about something. “But we have to be careful with our money, remember?”

 

“We both made enough to get you some medicine—the cheap kind at least,” Jin countered.

 

“Yeah well…I can be frugal once in a while, right?” She huffed, pursing her lips. “Jeez, what a pleasant person you are to come home to!” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Jin resisted the urge to scowl at her for a good while. “Where's Jin-Jin? I'm sure he'd be happy to see me.”

 

Now he wanted to scowl even more. Leaving Jin with the rest of the groceries to put away, Fuu began to click her tongue and call for her precious cat in her singsong voice. He tried his best to ignore her, but let's face it…the girl was loud. While he finished up in his brooding manner, Jin couldn't help but feel a bit miffed at the fact that she was so snappy just because he had been concerned about her. Even more so when she comes home and the one person she wanted to see the most was the furball.

 

He was happy to see her; he just didn't purr and nuzzle her to show it is all.

 

Several moments had passed since Fuu went looking for Jin-Jin, and the samurai was slightly surprised to still hear her calling for it when he left the kitchen.

 

“Jin?” She shouted.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Not you, silly, the cat!” Fuu corrected. “Jin-Jin!” Still nothing. Concern and worry began to cross her hazel eyes. “This is strange, usually he'd come running by now…” She turned to him. “Have you seen him? You were supposed to be looking after the cat.”

 

“It was here when I got home,” Jin offered, not bothering to tell her that it had also wandered to someplace that he didn't know. He didn't think it was such a big deal, cats tended to go off by themselves from time to time. Still, she didn't stop her restless fidgeting.

 

“Where is he now? You don't think Jin-Jin ran away did you?” A look of horror came to her face. “Oh no! What if someone caught him and made him into stew or stuffed him into pork buns? What if he's in the pork buns I just bought?!”

 

She almost made a mad dash for the kitchen before he stopped her.

 

“Fuu, calm down. It probably went to catch field mice or go exploring for a while. It isn't unusual.” The samurai assured her, waving aside her ridiculous notions.

 

“Y-Your right. I'm probably blowing this all out of proportion.” Fuu laughed weakly. “He'll come back soon. I'll just wait for him to come.”

 

And wait for the cat she did. After half-heartedly making dinner for two, in which she hardly touched at all (shocking), Fuu went to sit by the door and wait for a gray cat with a diamond mark on its' forehead to come home. Though she tried to act like it didn't bother her too much, Jin could still tell that she was gravely concerned over her pet.

 

He would never be able to understand her attachment to it and didn't want to question it. When night fell she still didn't move from her spot, even forgetting to make a wish on a star like she usually did. He stayed beside her the whole time, urging her to go to sleep and that in the morning Jin-Jin would return.

 

She refused, of course. So he continued to stay by her, just waiting. Once in a while she began to cough.

 

“Please come inside, Fuu,” he told her again, afraid that she might cough up blood.

 

“I'm fine. I just want to make sure he's safe is all.” And they continued to wait.

 

As Jin sat there, he could feel the guilt gnaw through him and the atmosphere between them tense up. It was too early to tell, but both of them sort of silently knew…

 

Jin-Jin was gone.

 

Although the girl said nothing, he could already imagine the blame. She had placed the cat within his care, and under his responsibility. And under his eye it had disappeared, and possibly had worse happen to it. Even if it was highly unlikely he still couldn't stop the guilt. Was she angry? Saddened?

 

For a moment, Jin felt the urge to apologize, even though he wasn't quite sure what he should be apologizing for, if at all. He couldn't stand the thought of her being mad at him, whether he truly be at fault or not. When the samurai turned to her, he felt a slight pressure fall onto his shoulder.

 

“Fuu?” His voice was soft and gentle, as it called out her name but she didn't hear it. She had fallen asleep, traces of fatigue and worry lined her face even in her slumber. The guilt returned Jin tenfold. He never thought he would admit it, but he wished for that damn cat around, if only to see Fuu smile.

 

Gathering the girl into his arms, Jin settled her into her own room and tucked her in for the first time since she had confided in him her childhood filled with porcelain and rag dolls. The circumstances are different this time, and the samurai found himself regretting that it had to be so.

 

When he stood to leave, her small voice called to him.

 

“Jin?” She whispered, her eyes not opening.

 

“Yes, Fuu?”

 

“He's not coming back, is he?”

 

If it wasn't back by now, it wouldn't be back ever. She seemed to know this, and so did he. Despite this, he said nothing, only letting the silence lull her back to sleep to ponder over her unanswered question.

 

Eventually Jin found his way to his room too, not sure if he would even be able to get any sleep that night. And if he did, he feared that Fuu would not meet him in his dreams this time. The moonlight filtered through the dark room, illuminating something sleek and shiny on top of his neatly made futon.

 

`Strange…' he thought, approaching the bedding. `That wasn't there this morning.'

 

Dark eyes widened when he realized what it was. It was finely crafted with firm hard wood that promised durability for years to come. Black and sleek, it reflected his face on its' surface. At the very tail of it was a carved design of a sunflower. Although he wasn't sure if it was fitting for a man, he couldn't help but feel that it was perfect thing for him to have.

 

On top of it lay a note in writing that he recognized immediately to be Fuu's.

 

Wanted to surprise you! I noticed that your sheath is getting pretty worn,

so I got you a new one. Don't worry! It didn't cost me too much.

I know the owner of the store and he gave me a discount.

Even let me personalize it! Cool, huh? Don't you dare give it back,

`cuz then I'll be really mad! Consider it a “Thank You” present for everything you've done.

I know I'm not easy to deal with sometimes. Enjoy it.

 

--Fuu

 

He hadn't realized his hand was trembling until he finished reading the letter. Something clawed and tore at his chest and made him terribly distraught. So this was why she insisted that she go alone. This was why she took so long to run those `errands.' This was why she came home with only a quarter of groceries in her usually full basket. Although she claimed that it was at a discount, he was sure that the girl paid a pretty penny for it. Money that should have been contributed to her well-being.

 

Jin touched the sheath with hesitant fingers, then drew back as if it were fire. He couldn't. He didn't deserve to have it. All this time…he had thought that she cared more for the cat than she did him. He had been jealous and perhaps even a little angry with her for it. And here he was standing in front of the very proof of her loyalty and friendship to him.

 

He was such a fool.

 

The night was still and quiet. There were no mewls from a cat and no dreams to be had.

 

In the kitchen, by the door, the bowl of leftover food remained untouched.

 

 

+End Chapter+

 

 

[A/N]

 

Originally, this chapter was supposed to be much longer, but I think it would be sufficient to stop here. I don't think I have the energy to write more at the moment. (sob) I suppose Jin-Jin the cat was only created last minute, but it's crucial, really! Heh. That, I thought it was a bit early for Fuu and Jin to be gushing out their love for one another, so it fits well.

 

Thank you all for the wonderful encouragement and reviews. I love getting feedback! (hint, hint)

 

Hopefully, I'll update Chapter 7 a little quicker.

 

PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! No flames please. Criticism welcome, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.

 

Thank you, and Ja Ne!