Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Nothings ❯ To the Stars and Back ( Chapter 7 )

[A/N]

 

Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. A few insightful readers were able to catch what I was trying to convey in the last chapter, which makes me very pleased. However, my fic is up for interpretation, and I enjoy hearing all of the reader's theories of what things represent, what they imply, and what it possibly may mean for the outcome. But that's the joy of being an author.

 

My main goal for Chapter 6 was simply to make the characters more human in their relationship with one another. That they aren't perfect and that they both face the flaws that all people have. Does that make any sense? Anyway, I found it amusing that Jin-Jin the cat was both loved and hated among the readers. Haha. It's just a cat… (sweat).

 

[Warnings]: This chapter contains sexual implications and maybe a touch of lime. Some OOC-ness may or may not occur…but then again, what do you expect when you're in love?

 

[Disclaimer]: Shinichiro Watanabe owns Samurai Champloo. Samurai Champloo just owns my soul.

 

+++

 

 

Sweet Nothings

 

By Youkai Yume

 

Chapter 7: To the Stars and Back

 

 

She had asked him what he wanted for dinner that night. He had replied that he didn't care either way and that anything she made would be fine. Some tempura would be nice though. Weak laughter followed. There wasn't any of that around the house, she commented, the light from here eyes just a bit dimmer when she looked at him before returning to the kitchen.

 

He had already set the table. Two bowls. One for each of them like always. It felt almost strange that he wasn't setting out an extra one on the floor. But there wasn't a need for it anymore. It was just the two of them again. Just Jin, and Fuu. She had decided on miso soup for them that night and some rice and one fried fish, which they both shared. Then she apologized for not making him tempura.

 

A half-hearted giggle, an ever-present frown.

 

Things had practically gone back to normal. If someone were to ever look at the house on top of the hill and the inhabitants that lived there, they could never tell that at one point, a cat lived there with them. Jin-Jin never came back, and Fuu never spoke of it again. She went on just like she did before—going to work, making breakfast and dinner for the both of them, folding paper cranes, and wishing on stars.

 

But it seemed like she did these things as if they were a chore, because it was what they had done before and made things ordinary. No one seemed to notice. But the samurai certainly did. Her laughter and smiles were tinged with sadness, though she hid it well. He could see it every time she looked at him; Fuu had that same emptiness that he saw on the night that the cat disappeared.

 

And Jin…he couldn't find it in himself to face Fuu. Unconsciously, he began to avoid her; unable to look her in the eye every time she gazed at him, for the guilt would consume him so. It was his fault she was like this. His entire fault that she was forcing her smiles, pretending that nothing had happened.

 

There were many times when Jin wondered if Fuu was angry with him. What a foolish thought; of course she was angry with him. Though she had never given any indication of a grudge against his carelessness with her beloved pet, Jin knew that it had to be the case. She might possibly even hate him for it.

 

His insides ached and twisted at the thought of her looking at him with scorn. It was stupid, and childish, he knew, to even think that she could hate him over something so trivial. It was only a cat, after all. But she had loved it. She had loved that cat so…

 

Sometimes, he wished that she would just show her frustration instead of smiling at him like that. He wished she would just yell and call him names, tell him he was irresponsible and untrustworthy. If he were Mugen, there was no doubt in his mind that she would do exactly that. At least then he wouldn't feel so bad. At least then he would know how she truly felt and perhaps, after she had vented all of her anger they could be honest with each other again.

 

He just wanted a chance to apologize to her.

 

But she didn't throw any tantrum of the sort, and Jin was almost disappointed that she didn't. Fuu continued to smile at him, and there were no traces of anger, bitterness or hate at all. It would have been so much easier if there were.

 

She had one of her chest pains the other day after they got off from work—the first one she had in a long while. As he put her to bed and told her to rest for the rest of the day, he wondered to himself if it was because of the fact that they no longer had the better medicine, or because Fuu was just suffering from heartache.

 

“Don't worry, I'm alright,” she had assured him when he didn't leave her side. “It's not as bad as it used to be, really. Don't look at me like it's your fault.”

 

He didn't say anything then. He didn't know what to say, in fact. He didn't know why he felt so insecure, or why he couldn't apologize. Even if there wasn't anything to really apologize for. He just wanted forgiveness. The only problem was he knew she already offered it to him. He just couldn't take it.

 

 

+++

 

 

Jin had been in the back practicing with his sword when she found him. He turned around to see her face flushed with excitement, yet at the same time she was calm and collected. Her eyes twinkled with something he couldn't quite describe, but they made them a beautiful shade of hazel all the same. She came up to him and called his name softly.

 

“Jin,” Fuu smiled, almost bouncing up to him. “I thought I'd find you back here.”

 

“Fuu?” The samurai tilted his head to the side, not sure why she seemed so happy all of a sudden. “What is it?”

 

Her fingers closed around the loose fabric of his sleeves and she tugged perhaps a little impatiently. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

 

“Show me something?”

 

“They won't bite,” Fuu giggled.

 

“They?” the samurai's eyes narrowed suspiciously, which caused her to laugh and tug on his sleeve harder.

 

“Just come with me, will you?”

 

So he did. He let her lead him to wherever it was that she so excitedly wanted to go, all the while confused and curious. Jin wanted to suspect something awful, even samurai-torture worthy; knowing the kind of mischievous person Fuu could be at times. But a part of him, the part that adored the innocent look on her face right now, didn't care what it was, as long as she stayed that way.

 

He blinked once, realizing for the first time since she had begun to drag him by the arm that they were going to someplace familiar. The canopy spread above them like a tattered blanket letting sunlight stream through, leaving patterns of light play across the grass. It was the grand oak tree that Fuu was so fond of; the very same one in which he had dreamed of lying under with Fuu.

 

“We're here!” She announced. He lifted an eyebrow at her.

 

“You wanted to show me the tree?”

 

“No, silly,” she laughed, her grip on his sleeve loosened. Fuu took a couple of steps closer to the tree and began to click her tongue. Jin could only stare at her with the same questioning look, not sure where she was going with this. His dark eyes followed hers, which were looking at the base of the tree. Then he realized what it was.

 

The large trunks concealed a hole that was under the tree. Actually, it looked more like a very small cave. His eyes widened considerably when something crawled out of it, something that made his chest tighten at the sight of its' diamond-shaped mark on its' forehead, gray fur, and glowing amber eyes.

 

There, in all of its' feline glory, stood Jin-Jin the cat.

 

Fuu giggled and called to the creature, which immediately stalked over to where she was and purred contently when she began to pet it. All the while, it looked up at Jin with the same knowing look that it had always given him. He could only stare back in shock.

 

“Fuu…” the samurai whispered.

 

“I found him the other day when I was lying here. Looks like he didn't run too far,” She laughed, continuing to shower the cat with her affections. Jin let out a sigh, not sure if it was relief or disappointment that they had finally found the cat.

 

So this was what she wanted to show him. “Come on Fuu, let's take it home.”

 

She blinked, standing up to meet his gaze. “We can't do that,” Fuu said incredulously, as it the very thought was scandalous. Now it was Jin who was confused.

 

“Why not? Don't you want it back?”

 

Her laughter resounded in the afternoon air, almost blending in with the sound of distant wind chimes and leaves. “This isn't want I wanted to show you, Jin!” Fuu averted her eyes back to the cat, and Jin did the same. As if knowing that the two were waiting for it to do something, Jin-Jin began to walk back to the hole under the tree that it had come from. Before entering, it looked back over to the girl and samurai, letting out a soft mewl as if to say `in here.'

 

He could feel her fingers once more gripping onto the sleeve of his kimono and wordlessly followed her as she lead him closer and closer to the trunk. When they got there, she tugged and it took the samurai a moment to realize that she wanted him to kneel with her.

 

And that was when he heard it. The smallest, most faint of mewls. He couldn't take his dark eyes off of the scene before him, his mouth was parted slightly in silent surprise and without looking he knew that Fuu was smiling.

 

“They're beautiful, aren't they?” She whispered, and this time, Jin could do nothing but nod dumbly back.

 

“Ah,” His voice came out soft and amazed as he continued to stare at the litter of small kittens that were huddled around an adult, tan-colored cat for the promise of milk—Their mother. The thing peered up at the samurai and girl with serene eyes as hazel as Fuu's, not the least bit startled or disturbed by their visit, before leaning down to groom her tiny kittens. Jin-Jin sat beside his mate, almost proudly.

 

Jin couldn't help but mentally smirk. So this was where it ran off to, the lucky bastard…

 

Turning his gaze back to the girl beside him, he realized that she was looking at him intensely, as if thinking something extremely important. It made him feel uneasy.

 

“Jin?” She started, still whispering, as if afraid she would waken the kittens. “I know this is off topic, but…” Hazel eyes dropped to her lap and she bit her lower lip in thought. He waited for her to continue. “I…I noticed that you're still using your…old sheath,” she finished, almost so quietly that the samurai had to strain to hear it.

 

He stiffened at her words, and glanced guiltily down at the cracked black sheath that still held his sword by his hip. Then his mind saw the beautifully crafted sheath that she had given him still sitting in his room, untouched. His words became caught in his throat as he struggled for the words to explain.

 

“I mean, you don't have to use it if you want to!” Fuu added. “I guess I can understand if you don't like it…I mean the sunflower engraving was pretty girly,” a weak laughter followed as she desperately tried to sound as if she honestly didn't care. But Jin knew better…and he hated himself all the more for it.

 

“No, Fuu,” He said, his voice a bit pleading. “It's not that,” It's not that at all. “I deeply appreciated what you did for me.” It's the most precious thing I own. “But I didn't think it was appropriate,” I don't deserve your kindness, “to accept such a gift.” I don't deserve it.

 

Jin looked away and for a moment, tried to concentrate on the kitten's cries rather than the rapid beating of his heart. She was staring at him; he could feel her eyes on his back.

 

“Why not?” The question spilled from her lips, hurt.

 

“Because it was my fault.” He was surprised that she even asked him such a thing. Fuu tilted her head, confused.

 

“What was your fault?”

 

“The cat was my responsibility and I was careless. It ran away under my watch,” Jin confessed, letting his guilt-ridden thoughts finally be revealed since the day Fuu waited all night for her precious pet to return by the front door. She blinked, speechless for a second. He was sure she'd finally yell at him now. Then…

 

“Yeah, so he could have kittens! Jin, did you think I was mad at you all this time?” She asked incredulously, almost with amusement. He dared to meet with her eyes once more, feeling something so horribly akin to relief and at the same time embarrassment flood his veins.

 

“Weren't you?”

 

She laughed, long and hard. “Oh, Jin! Of course I wasn't mad! I mean, sure I was a little down when I found out Jin-Jin ran away. But I was never angry at you for it,” Fuu said gently.

 

“I'm sorry,” he said before he could stop himself. She frowned.

 

“Stop being so hard on yourself. But if you're still worried about it, I forgive you, okay?”

 

“…Really?” He asked, not quite believing that apologizing to her would be so easy. Fuu closed her eyes, smiling and shaking her head in amusement. Jin made a mental note to use Fuu's gift the minute he got home. He could feel her fingers that were previously on his arm move down, brushing against fabric and skin before enclosing around his hand. She was warm.

 

“You can be so silly sometimes, Jin,” she said simply, sighing. And then she smiled. For the first time in a long while he had finally seen it—the look of pure, undiluted happiness that graced her lips, her eyes, and her voice. Jin never took his eyes off of her; the aching feeling in his chest only grew.

 

Her hand still held his, so small and fragile…this time he would not let it stay lifeless like the last time. Before he knew it his own fingers twined and curled around her own, fitting them together perfectly. It wasn't anything like his dream. He couldn't describe with words how the one single act enveloped him with pain, longing, and sweet bliss all at once.

 

Even though Jin had never truly been in love before, he knew then that he loved Fuu.

 

There were no fireworks or sudden dawning light of epiphany. Angels didn't sing, and the clouds didn't suddenly part with streams of sunshine and gold. Jin didn't feel any different. The only thing that changed was that now the nameless emotion that had been plaguing him wasn't so nameless anymore.

 

Their legs began to ache from kneeling so long, his hakama and her kimono were getting dirtied from the ground, and the kittens were now awake and almost obnoxiously loud in their pleas for attention. And Jin found himself wanting the moment to last.

 

A light pressure was on his shoulder, and Jin looked down to see a content Fuu leaning on him, giggling as she observed the litter of kittens as they began to play. The scent of her hair was sweet and calming in the afternoon breeze and he found himself smiling as well, his hand tightening around hers. He closed his eyes, savoring her closeness.

 

“Let's name them,” Fuu's voice broke through his thoughts suddenly, and he opened his eyes to once again peer down at the girl, then at the cats.

 

“All of them?” Jin inquired, eyeing the newborns curiously. “Now?

 

“Why not? They can't go around without any names now, can they? Now let's see…” Her eyebrows knit together in thought as she contemplated suitable names for the kittens. “C'mon! Help me, Jin,” Fuu nudged, and the samurai could only smile endearingly at her.

 

Dark, calculating depths didn't settle on any of the little ones, but instead on their mother. Its' large, hazel eyes gazed at him, watching and waiting. `She must not have a name either,' Jin thought, and at that moment, he knew that she was the only cat he wanted to name. And he knew exactly what he wanted to call her.

 

`Fuu-Fuu.'

 

 

+++

 

 

They walked back home in silence as the sun began to set and dusk settled in. All the while his hand never left hers. The air had grown cold and bit at their skin; it would be autumn soon. She shivered slightly, and he could feel her fingers getting cold in his grasp. He held onto her tighter in a meager attempt to keep her warm. He admittedly warmed himself when he felt her squeeze back in return.

 

In an endearingly childish way, Fuu began to swing their joined hands back and forth between them and began to hum sweetly. “Sing along with me, Jin!”

 

“No thank you,” he replied, causing her to stick out her tongue playfully. Dark eyes watched transfixed as it darted from her mouth and then back, moistening her pink lips and tempting his will. Holding her hand suddenly wasn't enough.

 

The first stars began to appear in the darkened sky slightly tinted with the last pinks of the sun. Jin felt a bit of a tug and realized that Fuu had stopped completely in her tracks and gazed at them above her. “I want to make my wish now,” she said softly, smiling. “And this time, it's not food.”

 

`What a surprise,' Jin chuckled inwardly before nodding, waiting for her to declare her heart's desire for the night. Fuu inhaled and closed her eyes, much like the first time that he had seen her wish on a star, and with a voice one wouldn't usually expect to be so loud for one so small, she yelled:

 

“I WISH FOR JIN-JIN AND HIS NEW FAMILY TO LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!”

 

And as her words echoed into the night and the wind began to pick up, Jin wanted for a brief moment to be as open and daring as Fuu. To be free of walls and strings that kept emotions locked away like Fuu. He wanted to be able to tell the stars what he wanted without regret, without hesitation or fear. He wanted so badly these things that he had never wanted before.

 

The samurai hardly ate that night; too deep in his own thoughts, he gave the girl his helping when she asked him if he was going to finish it. And when it was time for them to blow out the candles and fall into sleep, he tucked her into bed and she smiled gently in return.

 

“I'll remember today,” Fuu commented, running nimble fingers through her soft brown locks. Silently, he knew that he would too. The candlelight made her glow ethereal and her scent made him grow weak with longing. As he lay her down upon warm sheets and pillows, his hand found its' way against her cheek. He could feel her warmth and innocent eyes on him.

 

And in that fleeting moment, Jin imagined her to be his and not Death's. He imagined her dressed in silken white with flowers in her hair, and he imagined her moaning and passionate beneath him. He imagined her heavy with his child and he imagined growing old and happy with her. God, help him, he knew it to be foolish and nothing but a hopeless folly. It hurt him just to think of it, but he couldn't stop.

 

He imagined them in love.

 

When he withdrew from her, Fuu had a pretty blush on her pale cheeks and she gazed up at him with shy and confused hazel irises. He clenched the hand that so dared to touch her while she brushed the very place he touched with her fingertips. Jin wondered if she missed the warmth too.

 

“Good-night,” was all Jin could manage before leaving her with quickened pulse and voiceless words. He didn't know why he let himself do what he did, but didn't care.

 

“Good-night,” he heard her whisper back before he left and saw her smiling out of the corner of his eye.

 

 

+++

 

 

Jin had always been a man who was ready to accept fate and what had been given him, may it be good or bad. When his parents died and his clan, the Takedas sent him to live in the dojo he accepted it. When he was hated and hunted down by his very own fellow students over an act that only he alone would deem honorable, he accepted it. When he somehow got wound up with Fuu and Mugen in an endless search for a mysterious Sunflower Samurai he accepted it.

 

Even when Shino was drifting away from him on that little boat with tears running down her cheeks, he accepted it.

 

But this…Jin didn't want to accept this at all.

 

The stars still shown brightly overhead, embedded in the vast blanket that was the midnight sky. As he gazed upon them, he felt an ache that was painful beyond any physical wound he had endured before take over his body. For the first time, he wondered if there really was some great being that watched the world from its' high perch in the clouds. If there was, perhaps it was mocking him in his silent plight right now, laughing at him for trying to save a girl that could not be saved.

 

Or perhaps it pitied him for falling in love with a girl that could not be his.

 

Jin cursed himself. How could he have allowed himself to fall so far? He had been prepared. To do all that he could for Fuu and simply be glad to have known her. It was life. It had to be done. But he hadn't been careful enough…

 

He allowed himself to get closer than he should, cared for her more than was safe. And now, he was in a situation in which the only outcome was loss. If Jin knew how to cry, he swore he would have done so then and there. He mourned for the past, and he mourned for the future.

 

Had he not been so blind in the past and allowed himself to love Fuu sooner, would they have lost so much time? Would Fuu still be dying and pale and weak? Or would she be vibrant and laugh and dance in the fields as if she had all the time and life in the world? Even though the samurai knew his thoughts were impossible and that it wouldn't have mattered anyway because her illness was a result of family blood, he couldn't help but dwell on his “could-have-been's” and “what-if's.”

 

And he feared for what lay beyond tomorrow. He knew it may not be the next dawn, or even the dawn after that, but eventually, he knew the day would come when he awoke and there would be no more sounds of laughter or humming melodies that sang of seasons and dreams. The house would one day be empty and cold, left with nothing but a lingering scent that told the story of a girl who loved food and gambling, and a field full of sunflowers that bloomed all but too late.

 

He imagined what it would have been like if the last smile he had seen her with was the one she gave him just moments ago before he left her to her dreams and sleep, and he found that he didn't want to imagine such things anymore. Hell would have been a more forgiving place.

 

The samurai finally understood why Mugen hadn't stayed. Despite the pirate's rough and callous exterior, he was a smart man. He was also intense and passionate in anything he put his mind to, and doesn't bother in matters when he knows there is nothing he can do to help. Mugen was a paradox, and Jin had known that from the very moment he laid eyes on his gangly figure.

 

Fuu couldn't be saved, and Mugen knew. He had known and couldn't stand it…couldn't bear to see her suffer. And Mugen could not stand by and watch her die. So he left. Maybe he had foreseen, and avoided befalling the same fate that Jin did—for once, he had a smart (albeit selfish) move. Or maybe Jin was just giving the man too much credit. In the end however, Mugen had known that there was nothing could be done, and there was no point in staying. Fuu understood, and Mugen understood. He also understood that Jin couldn't save her either, but perhaps the pirate hoped that he could.

 

Perhaps that was why he had told the samurai to come to her when he did. Jin didn't know whether to run his sword through Mugen or thank him for that.

 

Jin's dark eyes lifted; starlight and moonshine were caught in them. Words rose and choked in his throat, wanting to come out, but at the same time not knowing how. And Jin, who had never been a daydreaming, hopeful child or a religious man a day in his life began to pray. To the heavens, to God, to the stars…to whomever might be listening.

 

“Please…” His voice came out in a desperate whisper, “Just let me keep her a little longer. I don't care if it's for a year, months, or even one more day,” the words continued to spill, without thought, without sense. He didn't care if he was being selfish or greedy or even foolish. He just wished. Oh, how he just wished…

 

And he thought of Fuu with her warm smiles and sparkling hazel eyes, and wanted to see them always. He thought of Jin-Jin the cat and its' happily ever after and wanted one for himself. He thought of Fuu's small hand that fit perfectly with his and he just wished…

 

“Let me keep her. I wish to just keep her…just a little while longer.”

 

The stars glimmered brilliant and dull, silent and unwavering as if there was only one answer to give; yet at the same time there were no answers at all. Not that Jin expected one in the first place.

 

“They're just like you!” he imagined Fuu would say if she were beside him right now. And even though at the moment, it felt like the unbearable yearning inside of him would surely swallow him up and eventually kill him, he couldn't help but let a bittersweet smile grace his lips at the thought.

 

 

+++

 

 

She had been in there too long. The samurai stood staring with a scrutinizing look at the shoji door through narrowed eyes and half-rimmed spectacles. He debated whether or not to just open the door and see just what it was that she was doing, or minding his own business and calmly walk down the hallway.

 

Usually, Fuu wouldn't spend so much time in the paper-crane room. But today, the girl had gone straight to it right after supper and hadn't come out for several hours. Jin began to grow worried, hence why he was now staring intensely at the door in which he knew she was on the other side.

 

His hand deftly went up to politely tap before entering, but before his knuckles got the chance to rap on the wooden frame, her soft voice called out to him.

 

“You don't have to stand there all day you know. Come on in, Jin.”

 

The shoji door slid open, revealing a rather uncomfortable samurai. He cleared his throat a bit; Fuu had developed a sort of sixth sense for detecting whenever he was near or troubled, and he, the same for her. Should he be bothered that someone knew him so well? Jin stepped inside and decided that if it was Fuu, he didn't quite mind and perhaps even reveled in this small indication of their close relationship.

 

His eyes scanned the room. There were a great deal more paper cranes than he last remembered, which was when he had revealed to her that he had added onto her collection, bringing it to a total of seven hundred and ten. The room had considerably gotten fuller since then, and Jin wondered just how close Fuu was to completing her goal.

 

Finally, dark eyes rested on the girl that sat by the door that led to the porch. She was completely still, not even looking up when he went to stand behind her. Instead, Fuu was entirely focused with the piece of paper in her palm.

 

“Fuu?” Jin questioned tentatively.

 

“Guess how many there are now,” her soft voice spoke. Although she sounded calm and composed, he felt the shift in her demeanor. Jin frowned.

 

“Are you finished?” He allowed himself the possibility that she had truly reached one thousand cranes and held his breath. It was quickly released when he saw her shake her head slowly.

 

“This is my nine hundred and ninety-ninth one.” Her fingers lifted the origami so that he could see; her voice was shaky. Jin looked at it for a long time, with calculating eyes, not sure why she didn't sound happier at the prospect of reaching a thousand cranes.

 

“Ah,” he answered, nodding before reaching for a piece of colored paper on the ground. “Only one more to go then,” and then, he began folding. The sound of paper being creased and shaped into a crane was the only sound that resounded in the room.

 

Before he could finish however, Fuu had stood up and turned to face him with a wild look of panic in her eyes and snatched the half-completed paper crane from Jin's fingers. “NO!” She cried, and in mere seconds, she had crumpled and ripped it up with almost violent abandon.

 

The scraps of colored paper fluttered and lay scattered at their feet. Jin could only stare at them in mixed shock and confusion. “Fuu…why did you—“

 

“Because I don't want you to leave me!” A sharp gasp emitted from her throat and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, hazel eyes wide with shock and horror at what she had just blurted out. The samurai couldn't move, only gazed back with wide dark eyes and slowly, slowly he began to remember that cold night. He remembered the promise he had made not to leave her until she reached one thousand cranes and he understood.

 

Yet, at the same time, he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

 

“What did you just…”

 

“Nothing,” She flushed, and began pacing towards the door. “Forget I said anything!” But his hand shot out to grasp hers, not letting the girl escape and she let out a distressed cry. “Don't touch me!” Fuu shouted and yanked her wrist out of Jin's grip.

 

To say that this one action hurt him more deeply than anything else he had ever felt was an understatement. Fuu didn't bolt through the door like he thought she would. No, she was still standing before him, with a look in her eyes that spoke of anger, frustration, and aching sadness.

 

“Don't touch me…” she whispered again, her form trembling. “Don't…because if you do…if you do, I won't be able to stop needing you.”

 

Something inside of him twisted, and his breath became caught in his throat. His mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out.

 

“Why? Why, Jin? Why?” Fuu continued, close to crying. “I was ready…I had been so ready to accept my fate. I was ready to die without any regrets. But then you came. And you just had to the right thing, didn't you? You just had to come back, and make everything so much harder.” Her voice was becoming cracked, the tears forming from the corners of her eyes.

 

Jin wanted to reach out and wipe them away before they could fall. But he refrained, remembering her request for no contact.

 

“And when you're with me…I don't want to die. It's not fair! It's not fair! How can you do this to me? It's not fair!”

 

It's not fair.

 

Not for the first time, Jin felt the full impact of those words and felt like a part of him was dying with her. Life had never been fair, and perhaps it was just cruel, cruel fate that they were standing here like this, tortured and craving for something to fill the empty chasm that resided within them. “Fuu…” he whispered, reaching out to touch her cheek, droplets of her tears falling into his palm.

 

She didn't shy away from him this time, and Jin didn't want to fight the suddenly burning need to just hold her. And now…now Jin marveled at how even more impossible, yet at the same time, right that she felt in his arms. Fuu's fingers clutched onto the front of his haori as she continued to cry. The tears bled through the cloth, burning his skin, tearing his heart.

 

“I'm so ashamed…” He could still hear her whisper, her voice hushed, “I'm so ashamed of my weakness. But still, even so…even if it was only once…even if it was a lie…” Fuu drew back, hazel eyes misty with sorrow and something he couldn't describe, “I wanted to believe that someone could love me.”

 

And for all of Jin's training and discipline to control his emotions, the samurai could not stop them from flooding throughout his entire being like water through a broken dam. He couldn't stop himself from leaning down and kissing away those tears that ran so persistently down her cheeks; her sorrow in tangible form. And he was powerless to stop himself from letting her name spill from his lips over and over again until it became sacred and holy.

 

“Fuu.”

 

His lips kissed her forehead, graced her eyelids and caressed each cheek. “I love you…” His voice whispered in a voice so husky and passionate he wasn't sure that it belonged to him at all. Fuu shivered and let out a small whimper at his words, and continued to cry. She may not believe him, but she may not care. She just let him love her.

 

Jin wanted to scream at her, to show her in every way a man could show a woman that he spoke only the truth. When he touched his lips to hers, he swore it was bliss. She tasted like tea and honey and he drank her in like he was intoxicated with her. He knew that he was.

 

“Jin…” Fuu gasped when he released her pink and swollen lips to plant tender butterfly kisses down her throat, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and neck. His breath was warm, and his touch ignited fire. Between the haze of love and lust, his hand went up to unbind dark brown locks so to allow his fingertips the pleasure of running through them.

He breathed in her scent, and knew that he was irrevocably addicted to it. Strong arms crushed the small girl to the samurai's own lean and muscular body, wondering how much more wondrous the feeling would be if there had been no layers of clothes to hide each other from.

 

“A dream. I must be dreaming,” Fuu said breathlessly, growing weaker by the second as Jin kissed her with hopeless abandon, his senses lost and his desire blinding.

 

“It's not a dream,” he moaned, feeling her small, delicate hands slip between his kimono and touching skin that felt like they were on fire. A sharp hiss escaped the samurai's lips, his hands moved to grasp the obi that bound her clothes. `Please don't let this be a dream,' Jin found himself pleading, the fluttering sound of fabric falling onto the origami scattered floor.

 

“N-No…don't look,” Fuu whimpered, arms clutching tightly onto her pink kimono rob that now hung loosely on her frame.

 

“Shhhh, You're beautiful, Fuu.”

 

“Now I know you're lying.” She wanted to cry again.

 

“You're beautiful. Beautiful.”

 

Please believe me when I say, `I love you.'

 

Eventually gentle hands pried hers away and delicate fabric and threads slid inch by inch down moonlit curves. The paper cranes overhead were the only ones to bear witness to the samurai that slowly moved his precious love across the room and out the door. Moans and whispers echoed throughout the hallway, gracing the silence that befell on the night. The sound of falling fabric and stumbled steps followed after, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake until skin met skin.

 

His glasses clattered on the floor loudly, and for a moment, Jin wondered if they had broken or not. But then he felt her soft lips on his eyelids and didn't care.

 

“I like the color of your eyes,” She whispered, fingers caressing his face. He let out a shuddering breath, claiming her in a kiss that spoke of all that he felt for her in such desperate tenderness that she was left gasping and clinging onto him like he was all that mattered.

 

As he lay her down upon silken sheets and soft futon, and her eyes met with his, trusting and heavily laced with lust and, he even dared to hope, love, Jin decided with fierce resolve that he would never regret this night, nor would he forget it. He'd make sure that she wouldn't either.

 

His hands moved slowly, almost shyly against her heated body, as if afraid that she would break, and she'd whisper and moan his name in a way that he knew only she could say it.

 

“It's a dream. It's a dream.”

 

And he loved her with his body, trying to prove to her that it was not a lie. They weren't dreaming. They really were trapped in between heaven and hell. Groaning and gasping, his breath panted over flushed skin, her lips kissing his sweat-slick shoulder.

 

Somewhere along the way, his hair had become undone and spilled in dark cascades over his shoulder and back, clinging onto his glistening skin and neck, and tickling her bared flesh.

 

“Oh Jin…” Fuu moaned softly, “Please don't stop.”

 

`Never,' Jin thought as he gazed down in complete devotion at her face—a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. `I'll never stop…'

 

As the night wore on and their cries of love melded with the rasping of the crickets and gentle winds that blew outside, Jin took her to the stars and back, so that she may wish on as many as her heart desired. Neither one thought about what lay for them come morning, if there even was a morning that awaited them. But they didn't care. They only loved.

 

+++

 

 

Even though I should want to wish for you to find happiness,

Even as I wipe away the tears,

They keep flowing because I'm immature.

 

 

+++

 

 

+End Chapter+

 

 

[A/N]

 

I hope this didn't come off as rushed. Personally, I didn't feel like it was, but if some of you feel that it is, I'm sorry. If you want to know the truth, this was all supposed to happen a lot sooner, but I thought it was too rushed and added in “Kitty-Kitty Jin-Jin” as filler. So technically…love confessions were overdue. Haha. But it worked out in the end, right? (crosses fingers)

 

Don't worry! There's still more to come!

 

The ending quote is once more from Maaya Sakamoto's “Into the Light.” Someone asked me where find it. You can find this song on her CD, called “Hotch Potch” or the “Escaflowne” soundtrack.

 

A little side note… to one of my readers, I seem to give you the impression that someone flamed me. When I write my usual ending my notes, and say “No flames please,” I am just asking for…well, no flames. I welcome criticism but I abhor people who leave letters of hate without telling me what I can do to improve my writing.

 

That said, I have yet to be flamed on this fic, so I'm sorry if I concerned you or anyone on this matter. But you're sweet for offering to kill any who oppose me (laughs).

 

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Please read and review (again) and I will be one happy author. (smiles)

 

Thanks and Ja Ne!