Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Storm Sanctuary ❯ Storm Sanctuary ( Chapter 1 )

His eyes opened when he felt the storm moving in, and slowly, painfully, he got to his feet. When he slid the door open, the smell of it hit him like a tsunami. He opened his mouth and tasted it on his tongue. He glanced over his shoulder to see his traveling companions asleep, Jin leaning against the wall, katana on his shoulder, Fuu curled up under a big old blanket by the glowing coals of their fire. She was always cold when she slept, no matter the temperature or humidity. He thought this was because she was built like a hummingbird, needing to move and eat constantly if she was going to stay warm. She needed all the help she could get at night time. He looked to Jin again and realized that the ronin may very well have been awake - impossible to tell with that freak. Well, whatever, he was going out regardless.

 

By the time he hobbled down to the beach, the lightening crackled through the clouds above his head. The wind whipped his tattered cloths around his body and blew sand and debris in his face. He raised his arm to protect his eyes, all the while leaning heavily on his sword. He tasted metal on the air and looked up just as lightening struck the ocean, bathing the sand in a pale blue light a fraction of a second before a thunderclap as sharp as his blade split the air. He didn't flinched. He couldn't ever remember flinching; it wasn't an action he was familiar with. He'd only seen others do it.

 

An image flashed through his mind, quick as the lightening skittering through the clouds: Fuu sitting bolt upright in the little house up the hill, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, crawling over to where Jin leaned against the wall. He wouldn't put his arm around her because he didn't do things like that, but he'd let her lean against him, wrapping her hands around the knees he'd drawn up to his chest.

 

Heavy, fat drops of rain splattered on his skin and he took a deep breath before the clouds opened up and attempted to drown him. This storm was from the south. This was from his home. He recognized the Ryukyus in the wind, the way it felt on his skin, the way it pulled at him, tugged on him. The storm smelled like the island, full of green things, heat and life. But it stank of metal and death, too, and he snorted like a dog to clear his nose when his lungs had taken in all they could.

 

The wind whipped rain into his eyes; the lightening nearly blinded him in its intensity and the thunder left his ears ringing so loud that he almost didn't notice when he started laughing. Still leaning on his sword he tipped his head back and up to the roiling storm clouds, feeling the power of the storm moving around him and in him, right down to his bare toes. It roared through his ribs and his skull, clearing out all the useless shit that had built up since he'd seen Mukuro and Kohza, since he'd gone to the bottom of the sea. He turned to see lightening strike a tall scraggly tree poking up above the canopy. He imagined what he must look like in the light cast by orange flames that licked along the branches - his wide grin, his wild hair and his eyes the color of the stormy ocean. He imagined he must be a monster.

 

He'd always loved storms like these. And as much as he could love anything else in the world, he loved a challenge. The storm was the clearest indication that the earth and sky themselves were hell-bent on taking him out. But he was just as hell-bent on proving that he still had the right to walk in the sand and lie in the sun. The storm was massive and powerful, proving that he was nothing as it mercilessly tossed him to his knees, but the storm also proved that he was real, that he lived, that he could still fight, especially given that he'd been somewhere on the bottom of the ocean with lungs full of salt water not two days before.

 

He knelt in the sand, leaning back on his heals, and laughed like a maniac. He laughed until his aching lungs burned and itched and he bent over, body heaving in painful hitching shudders. He spit out salty viscous fluid and shivered as the rain pounded against this back. He glanced to his left at the great black expanse of ocean. Between lightening strikes he could only just make out the giant swells of the waves a moment before they struck the sand, exploding in white. To an ordinary person, those waves would be terrifying, dark specters that promised cold, suffocating death. To him, they were as familiar as the feel of a tiller under his hands. He glanced to his right and straightened quickly. He heard a voice on the wind, high-pitched and panicked, though he couldn't see much of anything. He squinted against the rain, shielding his face with a raised arm. Maybe he'd imagined it, but...

 

Lightning struck the water behind him, lighting up the beach, and in that moment he saw a bundle of huddled pink about twenty paces away. Pale skin glowed in the strange blue light as she looked up at him, dark eyes wide. He could see that she was terrified and furious.

 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” she screamed over the roar of the wind and rain.

 

He didn't reply; he didn't think he could. In a storm like this, he felt like he was back in Ryukyu, where his humanity was something fragile, easily torn away in the face of the monster he could become. He stared at her as she got to her feet, skinny twig arms up in front of her face like they could ward off the storm. She took several running steps against the wind, chin ducked down against her chest. When she was only a few paces away, thunder cracked directly over their heads and Mugen did not flinch, but he watched Fuu cover her ears with her hands and fall to her knees, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 

The wild and savage storm tearing its way through his chest and head quieted abruptly as he saw her terror and crawled the last few paces over to her. He tossed the strap of his scabbard over his head and shoulders and then grabbed her by both arms, jerking her up and shaking her until she opened her eyes.

 

“Are you insane?” he shouted with some effort. It was all he could manage. But it worked.

 

She blinked at him and then her brow dipped down in the fierce scowl he was used to.

 

“Me? Me?! I'm not the one who wandered off into the worst storm I've ever seen to sit on the beach and meditate.”

 

“I wasn't-”

 

“You can barely walk, Mugen; you almost drowned. Half the ocean came out of your lungs and stomach, and here you are, trying to get the sea to swallow you up again, and I won't let that happen! You promised me - you promised-”

 

“Just shut up, willya; I wasn't gonna...” The words were forced and flat, unnatural, like he was hearing someone else try to speak like him. He trailed off, not interested in what he might have to say.

 

She waited another second, lip trembling just slightly. Then she clenched her tiny fists and threw them around his neck, pressing her cold wet lips against his in a hard close-mouthed kiss. He felt her chest rumble against his and realized she was growling. Every muscle froze and he forgot to breathe as for those few moments he held her. The kiss didn't change - it wasn't like any he'd ever had before, any that he'd taken from the girls he paid for - it was just a mushing of mouths, not remotely sexual. Thunder crashed around them again and her muscles went limp, her growl turning to a wail.

 

'That's enough,' he thought, clawing the pieces of himself back together for the hike up the hill to their house. The storm was just a storm, separate from him. He was not in the Ryukyus. He was here, with Fuu. Jin was probably waiting for them in the house, waiting to smirk at their dripping wet clothing before stoking the fire to warm them up. He shook her again and pushed her up to her feet, taking longer to get his own feet under him. She saw his struggle and hauled him the rest of the way up, placing his large hand on her bony shoulder.

 

“Lean on me,” she shouted up to him.

 

“You'll break in half,” he sneered automatically.

 

She planted her feet and glared. “Oh, I will not. You're the one who can barely stand. You want me to just leave you here? 'Cause I will.”

 

“Sure. I didn't want you coming out here anyway,” he bit back, half-heartedly.

 

She looked away quickly, back up the hill, probably thinking that she didn't want to face that journey alone again. She turned back. “Well, tough. You're coming with me right now.” She stamped her foot for emphasis. She sounded so much like a spoiled child that he almost laughed at her. There were no spoiled children where he'd come from; they were still a relatively new phenomenon to him.

 

He hobbled forward, leaning as little weight as he could on her shoulders. He felt her hand go around his waist, steadying him. They made the rest of the trip in silence, the storm hurling itself at their backs and sucking at their ankles.

 

***

The silence rang in his ears as Fuu closed the door behind them, shutting out the storm. The bright glow of the fire hurt his eyes and he quickly looked away until they adjusted. Jin was still in his spot against the wall, but, as he'd predicted, the fire had fresh wood on it, and he could feel its heat warming his soaked clothes.

 

“Did you enjoy your excursion?” The question was inevitable, as was the stab of annoyance that shot through Mugen's gut. But before he could open his mouth, Fuu opened hers.

 

“Quiet, Jin.” She murmured, turning to Mugen and tugging on his sodden haori. “You should get this off; it's soaked. You'll catch your death of cold.”

 

Removing his hand from her shoulder, he tottered dangerously for a moment before recovering his balance and shrugging out of the red shirt. “Not likely, girlie,” he grumbled. “You're the one with skin like paper.” He watched her blush and snorted before looking away and peeling off the rest of his soaking clothes. The big scratchy blanket landed on his head a second later.

 

“Have some decency, ya big pervert.”

 

Grinning tiredly to himself, he dropped to the floor in a boneless heap, pulling the blanket around him, for once glad of the warmth. The storm raged and tore at their small house, but his mind was clear. The sound of Fuu's soft tread forced him to crack an eye open in time to see her hanging up her yukata and obi. She hugged her juban tightly against herself as she turned back to the fire. It was so wet he could see straight through it to the bindings around her chest. He didn't quite have the energy to appreciate the view. She shivered then quickly returned to the fire, curling her knees up to her chest.

 

The storm continued to howl around them, allowing no one to sleep. Jin stayed perfectly still, though Mugen could see him watching the two of them with careful disinterest. Fuu was curled tightly into a ball, her hands flying to her ears with every bright flash of lightening. This was a pretty intense storm, but he didn't know that she would be this afraid. Mugen counted the bones of her spine poking through her juban five times before he snorted softly to himself and poked her hip with his heel. “You'll be miserable to deal with tomorrow if you don't sleep.”

 

She looked up sharply, pulling her hands away from her ears. “What?”

 

“Get over here and get warm.”

 

He saw her glance up at Jin and his eyes slid to the ronin as well. Jin had tensed, but when their eyes met he relaxed. His black eyes somehow managed to convey very clearly 'If you touch her in a way she does not desire, I will personally remove your testicles.' Mugen grinned with as much malice as he could and then looked back to see Fuu on her hands and knees, shuffling toward him.

 

“But, Mugen you don't have any clothes on.”

 

“Neither do you under all that wet stuff, so what's yer problem?”

 

She closed her eyes just as pale fingers lifted up the edge of blanket and she crawled underneath. She shuffled about under the blanket, very carefully avoiding him until he saw her juban land in a wet heap next to the fire. Then she rolled over to face him, tucking the blanket under herself so she wasn't laying directly on the bare floor.

 

“This is just for tonight so I don't freeze to death. So don't get any ideas, alright?”

 

“Sure, sweetheart.”

 

She was still shivering, only her hair poking out from under the blanket, when he closed his eyes.

 

A particularly aggressive blast of wind shook the house. He felt the floor tremble under him and then nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt icy fingers on his hip. His gaze jerked up to Fuu, but he couldn't see more than her hair, so he ducked his head under the blanket to see her staring at her hand where it lay over his hip bone.

 

“Hey,” he said softly.

 

She looked up at him, clearly surprised that 'hey' was all he had to say. Then she smiled shakily before shuffling closer and curling up against him, her small hand still holding onto him. Mindful of Jin's very real threat - as well as exactly how far he could go just shy of having it carried out - he draped one arm over her small waist, the fingers of his hand just brushing her left ass cheek. He fell asleep smiling.

 

By morning, the air was clear and cool.