AN: This is my first shot at a Samuria Champloo fic, so please be gentle!! Anyway, these are just going to be some random, unrelated one-shot drabbles, probably mostly Fuugen-centric romance/angst/occasional humor. Rated T for language-- for now. Rating may go up...Gotta love Fuugen!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
She wonders why we run to the red light district every chance we get.
We're men, dammit, not saints. How does that stupid chick think we can travel with her and not need a few whores to relieve some tension? Fuckin' idiot.
Damn, we gotta get to the next town, fast.
There she is, dead asleep, with her leg hanging out almost all the way to her hip. C'mon. Who the hell taught her how to wrap her kimono? She's always letting something show, and it's drivin' me crazy 'cause I can't even touch her. Like I said, I'm a guy, with needs, not some limp-noodled pretty boy.
It's getting to Fish Face, too. I can tell by the way he's not lookin' at her. Like he's workin' real hard to pretend he ain't noticed that sexy, milky-white skin just a few feet away from him.
I don't even bother to look away. What's the point? I'd see it in my head anyway, and it's her damn fault for puttin' on a free show. Even if she is sleeping. But it's her fault that I'm thinking about how soft that skin would feel, or how tight she could wrap those legs around my waist...
Fish Face coughs discreetly and gives me a pointed look. I just snort, lean back, and keep on starin'.
"Don't act like you didn't fuckin' look. Even you're not that much of a cold fish," I say. Then, "How far to the next town?"
He grunts, still looking pointedly anywhere but Fuu's leg. "We don't have enough money, anyway, so it hardly matters."
"Damn," I mutter. But I keep on staring until she rolls over, hiding her creamy skin under her cherry kimono again.