Summary: Mugen picks up a rare copy of Fuu's Ukiyoe portrait on a whim. What starts out as a silly piece of paper that he doesn't give a wit about except to laugh at becomes more than he ever imagined.

Disclaimer: I've never owned anything even remotely related to copyrights in my pitiful existence. *sigh* Now let me go munch on some comfort food. . .

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Mugen lay on his back staring at a piece of paper. "What's that?" Fuu asked from across the campfire. "Are you reading?"

"None of your damn business." He growled.

"MUGEN!" She screeched, "I was just curious you don't have to be so rude you jerk!"

"Yeah. Well, curiosity killed the cat, little kitten."

Fuu pulled her legs into her chest and set her chin on her knees breathing out a quick sigh.

"Can't you just tell me what you're reading?"

"Shut up."

"MUGEN!"

"I said shut up bitch!"

With a melodramatic pitiful moan she slowly unfurled from her position and stood. Then snappishly walked over to where Mugen lay.

"Oi, Get away!" Mugen jerked up into a sitting position, hastily folded up the piece of parchment he had been regarding for the past half hour, sat on it, then took to giving Fuu one of his death glares that could light a baby's hair on fire.

"But I want to see what you're reading!" She whined.

"Too bad bitch." He drawled while giving his left ear a thorough cleaning with his index finger.

"Hmph!"Fuu gave in and sat resignedly down with a plop. She knew when she had been defeated. Whatever Mugen was hiding he would guard with his life. It just wasn't worth it to work him up into a froth just to sate her curiosity. Wheedling, shoving and sneaking about never worked with Mugen. He got madder and yelled more if she wheedled and whined, wouldn't and couldn't be moved by her meager strength if she tried to move him by force (she felt like the wind in that old story where the wind tried to move a mountain), and stealing and looking into his stuff would make him mad as hell; not that she had ever tried the last one. Instead she satisfied herself by going through a list of things that were printed on paper that Mugen could possibly be interested in that much. She quickly settled that it was probably either a raunchy story that he was undoubtedly having difficulty reading or a wanted poster with himself as the star.

Satisfied with her dual conclusion she groaned and stood up again shuffling tiredly back to her own sleeping mat. Letting out a dainty sigh as she reclined against the hard ground. 'Why are there always rocks were I have to sleep? I wonder if there are rocks were Mugen and Jin are.' She mulled. 'And why do they always have to poke me in the right side of my back?'

As Fuu dozed off Mugen watched intently for any signs of further nightly activity from the girl. Though from her light snoring it was apparent that she was going to be sawing logs like a master woodcutter for the remainder of the night, rocks or no rocks. But he wanted to make sure. It had been too close. 'Way too close.' He should have known it was a bad idea to take it out when she and dojo boy were right across from him on the other side of the fire. Maybe Jin had already caught a glimpse of what was on the paper. 'Nah. I woulda known.' He dismissed. 'If fish face knows then I'm fucked.'

He settled in for the night as Jin sat against a tree taking first watch. Mugen grunted to himself and resolved that he would never, ever take it out again while they were around.

But he couldn't resist.

He carefully pulled the piece of parchment from under his bottom, dusted it off, and gently folded it open. It never failed to make the breath hitch in his throat. He was a drowning man in an ocean of shit and blood, and this, this dumbass thing, was the plank of wood that supported him. He carefully and methodically traced the outline, then the details of the portrait. Actually, he was surprised that he had made it this long without taking it out around the other two. He had been so rigorously secretive when he had first gotten his calloused and worn hands on it. It almost made him want to laugh now.

He let out a low snort that only served to attract Jin's attention.
The two men locked eyes, Mugen's fierce rabid gaze meeting one of steely indifference. Jin, deciding that though a staring contest was a valid battle of the wills it was also very childish, let his eyes slide away first.

Mugen continued his enraptured perusal of the paper. It looked so much like her. 'Yeah right.' He laughed to himself. 'That tit is so fucking exaggerated. Unflattering kimono my ass.' But he still slowly and deliberately traced the outline of the soft creamy lump lingering over the pink pearl in the center. Fuck, he couldn't keep doing this to himself. The problem was it was too late. He was addicted. It had become something akin to a physical need for him; this urge to take out this ridiculous piece of paper and trace along the lines. It was stupid. And it was driving him insane. It wasn't just that it was a picture of a semi nude woman. He had tried that on himself. Those stupid simple little lies that could blind him for just awhile and make him feel more himself. It was also because it was her.

"Fuu." He groaned softly.

Fuck. He felt like such a god damned fucking pervert. Like something dirty that wanted to touch something clean. But he knew if he ever touched that milky skin of hers it would be tainted, stained, dirtied by him. He was a criminal. He was filth.

But he still wanted her. And at least this mockery, which he had given all the kindness and happiness of Fuu and none of her god-awful shrewishness, could draw his eyes away from the original and keep him sated for now.

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------ AN: Meh. I might continue this. I might not. Oneshot, don't oneshot. Noodle, don't noodle. It's all too complex for me. I would like to continue this, but frankly.
I'm stuck.

I apologize for any OOCness, I try to keep characters as they are, but it's difficult. I am but a young padawan and character capturing is a mighty task, but when it's done well by a master it's awesomeness incarnate. Also this is my very first fanfic EVER!