Okay so hello! It's been AGES since I've written anything and published it on here! I recently got into Samurai Champloo, by the incomparable Shinichiro Watanabe, and by "into" I mean "obsessed with". This was an idea for a one-shot that just popped into my head one day, and for once I was actually inspired to write it down. The title is utter crap so please ignore it and just move on to the story itself.

EDIT: There is now lovely fanart inspire by this story by the wonderful roolph! Check out her other Samurai Champloo art as well, she's awesome! (this thing won't allow entire URLs so replace the dots and slashes with "." and "/")

roolph .com(slash)post(slash)89674004157

Disclaimer: Neither Fuu, nor Mugen, nor Jin or any Samurai Champloo characters are my own, since they belong to Shinichiro Watanabe.

Her Touch

The logs on the fire shifted and cast sparks into the night as Fuu gazed up at the stars. It was a beautiful and clear night, and the trio had set up camp next to a gently flowing stream a couple hundred yards from the path they had been traveling. Across the fire from her Mugen sat sharpening his sword using Jin's whetstone that he had borrowed – well actually, more like stole temporarily, since he hadn't bothered to ask. The two sat in companionable silence, Jin having wandered off to go meditate a ways down the stream beside a small waterfall.

A small noise interrupted Fuu's contemplation of the night sky. She turned her head towards Mugen as he blew air upwards from his mouth to shift a lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes, only to have the same lock fall right back to where it was. She watched as he paused in his task to run a hand through his hair to pull it back from his face, but the bushy mass on his head wouldn't cooperate. She hadn't really paid attention to how long his hair had gotten recently – this was probably the longest she'd ever seen it.

"What are you gawkin' at?" he asked suddenly as he went back to sharpening his blade, his eyes down and focused on the task. She smirked.

"Just wondering if you look more like a ruthless thug with your hair longer or shorter," she said. "Because it's pretty shaggy now."

The whetstone continued to glide across the metal blade with a gentle shink as he shrugged.

"Haven't had time to cut it," he said. She watched him for a moment, then decided offering wouldn't hurt.

"I could cut it for you if you'd like," she said noncommittally, shrugging one shoulder.

"Why the hell would you wanna do that?" he set down the whetstone and grabbed a cloth to begin polishing his sword, still not meeting her gaze as he focused on his hands. She didn't want to admit she'd always had a curious fascination with his hair, and figured this was a chance to fulfil her secret wish of touching it and running her fingers through it. She frowned at his tone.

"Geez, you don't have to get all snippy about it," she huffed. "It's not like I don't know what I'm doing, I've been cutting my own hair for a while."

Mugen's eyes met hers as he gave her his trademark just-to-piss-you-off smirk. "Believe me, I can tell," he said. "What with your bangs always being uneven, makes you look like a dumbass."

Fuu puffed her cheeks out in irritation as she crossed her arms. "If you must know my bangs are uneven because I like them that way!" she said, indignantly. "It's a hair style!"

"Whatever," he rebuffed her, turning his gaze back to the gleaming metal of his sword. His hair fell in his eyes again and he grunted in frustration, glaring at the offending lock. Fuu giggled at the sight because it only made him look silly with his glare being crosseyed. His eyes refocused on her and glared at her instead. She pursed her lips to stifle another giggle but couldn't contain the small smile on her face. Mugen grunted again, discarding the polishing cloth and sliding his sword back into its sheath. He whipped the hidden tanto out of the other end and held the handle out to her as he scowled at her from across the fire.

Fuu was genuinely surprised he was willing to let her near his head with a blade, and one she suspected was rather a lot sharper than her own tanto. A thrill went through her, though, at the prospect of getting to fulfill her wish. She stood and walked around the fire to kneel next to him, grabbing her blanket as she went. The scowl didn't leave Mugen's face as she took the knife from him. She threw her blanket around his shoulders.

"What the hell is this for?" he asked, one eyebrow raising. She rolled her eyes.

"So you don't get little bits of hair stuck in your clothes," she replied. For once he said nothing, but slouched to settle his chin in his hand just as she was raising the knife to start cutting. Fuu tugged back on his shoulder to force him to sit up straight, and he whipped his head around to glare at her.

"Don't slouch!" she scolded. "That just makes it harder for me to get down by your neck." She grabbed the top of his head and forcibly turned it so he was facing forward again. He swatted her hand away.

"Stop pushing me around, you dumb broad!" he said, extremely irritated. Her grip on the tanto tightened, and Fuu poked his head in annoyance with her free hand.

"Well I wouldn't have to if you'd just sit still and let me get on with it!" she said, just as heated.

"Whatever," Mugen huffed. "Just don't go crazy, alright? I don't want you fucking up by cutting it too short in one spot and end up having to shave my whole head. Fish-face would never let me hear the end of it." She chuckled and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"I promise I won't. Have some faith in me, will ya?" she joked. The scowl on Mugen's face lessened until it was just a downturn of his lips.

He tilted his head forward as she grabbed a chunk of hair at the base of his neck and began sawing away, gradually making her way up the back of his head. When she finished with that section she made him shift his whole body so she could get better light from the fire to do the sides of his head. He grunted in annoyance but did as she asked. When she had finished the sides she scooted around so they were face to face and started on his bangs. Mugen found it hard to look anywhere but at her slender neck and her chest, and certain thoughts came unbidden to his mind which he tried to push away. She was too focused on the task at hand to notice his staring, her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated. Mugen had just shifted his gaze to her lips when she sat back suddenly and smiled at her handiwork, setting the tanto knife on the ground beside her.

"There, that looks about right!" she said cheerfully, silently congratulating herself on a job well done. Before Mugen could shift to stand up, though, she had scooted herself around to the back of him and began running her fingers through his hair, gently rubbing his scalp as she did so. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing, but she beat him to it.

"Don't get your hakama in a twist, I'm making sure all the snipped off bits are out of your hair," she explained, and continued to run her slender fingers through his dark hair. She was surprised how soft it was, and was grateful that he had actually washed it when they had stayed at an inn two nights previous. She couldn't see his face, but Mugen's eyes slowly shut as he tried not to enjoy the feel of her hands in his hair. Her touch sent a slight shiver down his spine.

Fuu quirked a brow, noticing the tremble that went through her bodyguard. An idea presented itself to her, and she grinned wickedly at the back of Mugen's head. Very gently, she put her fingertips at his hairline at his temple and brought them down to softly scratch behind his ears. Mugen caught himself before a contented groan escaped his throat, but didn't make any move to stop her. Fuu pouted, expecting him to react. She brought her fingers again to his temple, and began rubbing small circles as her fingers slowly slid back through his thick hair. The ever-present dent between his eyebrows softened, but still no noise escaped his mouth to show his contentment.

Fuu frowned at the back of Mugen's bushy head, frustrated that she hadn't gotten another reaction out of him yet. Deciding to give it one last shot, she placed her fingers at the base of his hairline on his neck and put harder pressure on them as she dragged them up into his hair, spreading her fingers as she went. A deep hum of pleasure escaped Mugen's lips before he could catch himself, and his eyes snapped open to glare at the fire. Fuu grinned triumphantly to herself, but put on an innocent face when Mugen peeked over his shoulder to turn his glare on her.

"What?" she asked, her brown eyes shining with innocence.

"What kinda game you tryin' to play with me, girlie?" he snapped.

"What makes you think I'm trying to play a game with you?" she asked, still feigning ignorance. His frown deepened.

"You sure were rubbin' my head for a lot longer than you needed to," he said, turning to sit cross-legged in front of her and leaning forward so he could get in her face. She returned his frown.

"Well I didn't hear you complaining, now did I?" she retorted, not backing down from his intimidation tactics. For once, her comeback seemed to have shut him up. His lower lip jut out in a pout as his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He hated to admit it even to himself, but the feel of her slender fingers running through his hair had left a slight tingling in his chest and…other areas.

"Hmph," he grumbled, and turned his back to her to face the fire again, throwing her blanket from his shoulders to the ground. He grabbed his tanto from where she had set it down and quickly slid it into its hidden sheath. Fuu sighed, scooped up her blanket, and stood to return to her sleeping mat across the fire, shaking out the trimmed hair as she went.

"Gee, Fuu, thanks for cutting my hair, now people won't confuse me for Jin with his hair down," she mumbled to herself as she sat on her mat and made herself comfortable. She lay back, her hands folded on her stomach as she returned to stargazing.

Across the fire, Mugen ran his hand through his mop of dark hair, relieved to have it back to the shorter length. The tips of his hair felt softer than when he cut it himself, not as rough. Sparing a glance at Fuu, who ignored him, he stood and made his way to the water to catch his reflection in what little light the stars and crescent moon provided. He turned his head this way and that, and grudgingly acknowledged that she had done a pretty good job. Certainly neater than he would have done.

He returned to his mat by the fire, and lay back with his hands behind his head. He yawned loudly, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Fuu catch his yawn and put up a hand to cover her gaping mouth. He brought his forearm up to cover his eyes.

"Good night," a voice said softly across the fire. He peeked out from under his arm to see Fuu on her side, with her back to the fire. He grunted in response, and covered his eyes again before drifting off to sleep, dreaming of slender fingers in his hair.

Was it decent? Sucked? Let me know!