Behind Fuu's eyelids, all was dark. Completely black, save for a couple of red streaks of sunlight. She lay there for an hour or two, peacefully resting. Her peace was soon to be broken. There was the sound of sudden, obnoxious scratching. The sound moved around in the outer rooms for a few minutes as though searching for something. Faintly, the bedroom door could be heard hitting the lintel post again. Was it Jin? Did he forget something from home? Then the scratching returned. Metal and wood floor slats growled in a noisy argument. Surely Jin hadn't returned to drag his sword along the ground. The scratches raised themselves up from the floor and now sounded as though they were crawling up the wall, fading in volume. The heavy powers of sleep struck Fuu for a deep moment, then she roused fully. The splash of red near the floor and a mass of unruly dark brown hair in her line of vision seemed like pieces of a nightmare.
"Who are you? W-what are you doing in my house?" Fuu shrieked as she sat up immediately, clutching her bedsheets around herself for added modesty. There was Mugen, doing a handstand against the wall in her room. His lean, inverted face cocked to one side and his eyes narrowed. Easily righting himself, Mugen turned and grinned. He then plopped on the bed as close to Fuu as he could get.
"Heya, sweetheart," he purred, grabbing Fuu's chin for a closer look at his conquest. All the color quickly drained from his face. "What the hell – Fuu?" Disbelief overtook his features, and his mouth gaped open. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"This is my house, idiot. The better question would be what are you doing here?" Fuu shook her face out of his grip, at once shocked and irritated. Mugen – how did he get out here? What were the chances of him barging in… and just after Jin had left for the day?
"I was hungry. I haven't had any food in two days, and it's sure as hell easier to nick food from houses than stores. Show 'em a blade to prove you ain't shittin' around, and the fools turn over everything they got," Mugen chuckled. He patted the handle of his sword and grinned. Fuu sighed. Mugen hadn't changed a bit, taking his criminal habits on the road, as usual. The man had felony written all over him. Prison tattoo bands around his wrists and ankles, unwashed hair, scruffy 5 o'clock shadow, and deeply tanned skin from years on the run showed to be none worse for the wear. Mugen was exceedingly resilient, considering all he'd been through.
"Well, you could've just said so. I'll make you something. I haven't had breakfast yet, anyway," the young woman offered casually. It was almost bizarre how easily she had brushed off his story. How many poor housewives had he pulled his blade on? How many had he killed? Her lip trembled for a moment. Shaking the idea out of her head, Fuu tried to return to the journey in her mind. When the three of them were out, searching the land for the sunflower samurai, she wouldn't have given such an idea a second thought. But now, pregnant, alone… somehow fear pierced her.
"Yo, what's taking so long?" The monkey-faced man slapped the back of her head. Mugen's earthy eyes went dull as his stomach roared and grumbled. "Told ya I was hungry. C'mon, Fuu." He was a desperate man, but a pregnant woman is a woman not to be rushed. Fuu blinked hard. Mugen was shaking her by the shoulders. "Are you even listening? Hell, I'm going to get it myself in a minute."
"Okay, okay! Hold your horses. I need to change, so you need to leave this room." The firm tone of voice and set jaw meant business.
"What, now?" Mugen's face was incredulous.
"Right now." Fuu was glaring murderously by this point.
"…And if I don't want to?" The gambler decided to press his luck.
"Then I guess you'll have to figure out breakfast by yourself, pervert." Mugen sighed and headed for the door. Might as well let her win, he figured. She was already in a weird enough mood for his taste.
Fuu carefully checked Mugen's exit to make sure it was closed and all the windows, just in case. Her heart was racing as she pulled off her nightgown. This was entirely surreal, seeing him in her bedroom. Wasn't she just mentioning him to Jin? She had been wondering where he had travelled to, how he had survived, if he managed. Mugen was frightening, she realized. Frightening in an addictive, thrilling way. Whirling through the room, Fuu managed to find her pink kimono and put it on. She folded it across her modest breasts, tying the obi carefully in place to secure the memories as they flooded back. All those ridiculous times Mugen was teasing her about her size in that area. Even Jin joined in, occasionally. He never said anything, but he always agreed. Fuu tried pushing them up. They'd have to be bigger soon, she supposed. There will be a child to feed, Fuu smiled to herself. A sword scabbard pounded on the door in frustration. Soon Fuu could hear the blade picking at the wood.
"You bitch! I'm starving! How long does it take to pull on whatever shit you wear?" Mugen whined. The door slid open.
"I'm finished getting dressed," the young woman announced coldly. Turning to close the door, she noticed several deep jags were cut from the outside. "Mugen! What did you do? Is this how you thank me for feeding you? Cutting chunks out of my bedroom door?!"
The punk's sword hilt hit the scabbard with a slight clink. Lone, estranged whiskers danced on Mugen's chin as he grinned again. "You haven't exactly fed me yet."
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A/N - Thanks to all for the support you've given me and this fanfic! Also, a great thank you to all Mugen/Fuu fans who have stuck it out until this chapter. I think Fuu touches each of the guys in a special way, thus the title "Tinged with Pink". More to come! R & R plz