Disclaimer: I do not own Samurai Champloo nor intend to deprive its creators of their just and lawful profits by the creation of this fanfic. Like they care.

Summary: Mugen and Fuu understand one another. The one whom they don't understand is Jin. One-shot character sketch.

Pas de Trois

by Elementary Magpie

He calls her a nagging bitch. She calls him an inconsiderate loser. But Mugen and Fuu understand one another perfectly.

They both understand that gambling is the best way to move you forward. They both understand that the important things in life are action and exploration and full bellies and sleep. They both understand fury and haste and a quick-burning fit of temper. And dogged, irritated loyalty once you've given your word. They even both understand the satisfactions of meaningless sex, though Fuu is too young to admit this yet.

It's possible that this mutual understanding might even make them friends.

The one whom neither of them understands is Jin.

They don't understand his detachment and his sullenness and his silence. They don't understand how he can think twenty steps ahead of them and still never make up his mind about what to do next. They don't understand his rules and his philosophies and his prayer beads and his glasses. They don't understand how anyone can be so still and so calm and so quick.

So it's inevitable, really, how much they both long for him. How they both find themselves parched and craving, desert creatures dreaming of rainfall.

And so it's inevitable, really, that they compete for his attention.

Most often, they compete against one another, to create a society where the other one doesn't belong. A place to be inside, alone with Jin. Inside the society of men, commiserating together about a shrewish woman. Inside the society of the civilized, commiserating together about a savage.

Sometimes, it's true, they work together, ganging up to poke fun at all of those things they don't understand. Because if you can mock someone out loud, then the longing can't possibly be strong enough to hurt you.

But whatever the strategy of the moment, they both understand that the goal remains the same. Look at me, Jin. Talk to me, in that cool voice. Let me drink.

o o o

Jin doesn't understand Mugen and Fuu.

He doesn't understand their enslavement to impulse and their refusal to plan. He doesn't understand their chaos and their tempers and the size of their appetites.

He sees their competition, but he doesn't understand that it's about him.

Sometimes he envies them their mutual understanding, and their casual conversation. It seems so warm inside that society of the unconstrained.

He longs to join them there, but has no idea how.

o o o

End.