Aventures at Uwajimaya's and Afterward
Sequel to the Wolf at Work. Saitoh and his boys arrive home to spend some family time with their houseguest, Takagi Tokio. A bit of family bonding and an adult discussion about the events of the day.
Chapter 1
SAITOH
Uwajimaya's Grocery Store
Clackity
Clickity
Clackity
Click
The errant shopping cart wheel skittered uselessly as Saitoh turned into the produce section of Uwajimaya's. For some reason he always ran afoul of the bad shopping carts. Perhaps it was bad karma, perhaps not, but he was sure of the fact he hated the damn things.
Saitoh glanced at the list that Tokio had consented to send him. It had some decidedly odd things on it.
Looking around, Saitoh found the chrysanthemum leaves, egg plant, cucumbers and kabocha and did his best to pick the freshest product he could. Choosing good steak and soba was easy. This was decidedly not. His tried and true technique of scowling ferociously at the vegetable in question and poking it experimentally did little in helping him find the best produce, but was extremely effective at keeping other shoppers at bay and indeed rather terrified of the mean looking amber eyed vegetable poker.
"Tsuyoshi," Saitoh glanced to the left at his youngest, "Stop touching the produce."
"Tsutomu," Saitoh's gaze went to the right as he selected some mustard greens, "Put the tomatoes back."
"I'm trying to help, Father. In class they said tomatoes are good for you." Tsutomu protested, poking the tomatoes in imitation of his parent.
Saitoh hesitated a second, holding a handful of green onions then nodded, "Go ahead, but ask me before you put anything else in the shopping cart."
Filled with green and leafy things, the cart moved away from the produce and to the dairy section clacking and clicking all the way.
Into the cart went six liters of milk, three dozen eggs, cheddar cheese and yogurt (Plain, no silly fruity flavors for this household, thank you very much).
Clickity-clack!
Saitoh glanced at his nearly completed list and turned into what had, up until a year ago, been a very familiar aisle in the store.
Soy Sauce – low sodium
Mirin
Regular Sake for cooking
He paused and looked down at the list in consternation.
The soy sauce wasn't a problem. Into the cart it went.
There was mirin-like seasoning that had the taste but not the alcohol. It too was added to the cart after a moment as Saitoh carefully read the ingredients.
The third item, cooking sake was going to be a problem.
(Moron….the alcohol cooks off….) One part of his mind said. (Every normal kitchen has cooking sake…)
(Idiot…you'll end up drinking the sake before it ever makes it to the cooking pot….) the other part of this head chimed in, the side that had been to enough AA meetings to understand the risk.
For what seemed to Saitoh like an eternity, he stood within arm's reach of alcohol, his fingers itching to pick up one….or perhaps a couple of bottles.
After the week he'd had, after seeing men and a young, black haired woman slaughtered, being promoted to a corrupt and dysfunctional police squadron AND finding out that his wife of 200 years ago was not only alive and well and as beautiful as memory served, but also with a syndicate hit on her head had done little to keep the ever constant monster of wanting to drink at bay.
(I won't touch it…it will only be used for cooking) He didn't want to disappoint Tokio and appear weak. Was he so pathetic that he couldn't even risk having a cheap bottle of cooking sake in his own house?
The back of this throat burned, as if he'd gone without so much as a drink of water for days. His aching leg throbbed with pain, pain that he knew a stiff drink would surely numb.
(NO) His honor as a father, an officer and as a man was at stake.
Saitoh closed his eyes, took a deep breath and pushed the cart past the cooking sake, unaware of the piercing and then relieved look that his eldest son gave him.
Clackity-click!
Back at the Saitoh Residence
"Boys," Saitoh said as soon as the garage door began to close, his voice as serious as the grave, "we have a visitor at our house, one that I expect you to welcome properly."
Both children sat up in their car seats, their little ears perking at the strange news.
"Is it Watanabe-san?" Tsuyoshi asked hopefully.
"No," Saitoh said.
"Did Aunt Katsu finally let Hitomi and Ayame come and play at our house?" Tsutomu asked, absolutely mystified as to who his father would actually let in the house.
"No."
Saitoh pursed his lips and thought for a second. "Our guest is someone who I work with." He frowned to himself and added, "…and is a friend of mine from a long time ago." There, that was much better.
"It's Okita!" Tsutomu said, triumphant in his guess. "He's come back!"
"No, it's not Okita-san, Tsutomu. Her name is Takagi Tokio. You both are to refer to her as Takagi-san. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sir," both boys replied quietly, not missing the commanding tone in their father's voice.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Tsuyoshi?" Saitoh asked patiently, trying to ignore the pain in this leg and back.
"Why is Takagi-san at our house? We never have people come to our house, not even to play."
"Her house is being made safer." Saitoh said shortly.
"Is her house dangerous?" Tsutomu's voice was very quiet. "Is Takagi-san in danger?"
Saitoh looked back at his son through the rear view mirror. He made it a point to never lie to his children. "I am protecting Takagi-san."
Eyes that belonged to a much older and sadder child looked back at him.
"You'll take care of her then?"
"I will." Saitoh's voice was firm. "Now, enough questions. We need to get inside with the groceries.
He got out of the car. His leg was really hurting. He'd have to look at it tonight and change the bandages. Trying not to limp, he opened the rear driver's door and got Tsutomu out of this chair and then Tsuyoshi.
"Tsutomu, do you have homework tonight?"
"Yes, Sir. Three pages."
"Tsuyoshi, do you have homework tonight?"
"Yes, Daddy. I have to practice writing my name."
"We'll work on your homework after dinner then."
"Daddy?"
Saitoh opened the boot of his car and took out some groceries. "Yes?"
"What are we having for dinner?"
Saitoh paused. He honestly had no idea, despite all the food he'd purchased.
"We're having food."
And with that, he opened the door to the kitchen and went inside, his children following behind him holding on to their school backpacks.
TOKIO
Tokio was lying on the couch, dozing when she was startled awake by a grinding noise. She immediately sat up, tensing, her heartbeat picking up the pace until she realized that the sound that roused her from her light sleep was that of a garage door opening. A quick glance at the monitor on the little table at the end of the couch, which showed the feeds from all the security cameras around the property, confirmed the identity of the car entering the garage. It was his.
Taking in a deep breath and releasing it, she made an attempt to calm her somewhat rattled nerves. She then yawned and stretched before gingerly lifting her legs off the couch and planting her feet on the floor. She didn't think she should be as sore as she'd been earlier this morning, but she was. In fact, her injured knee was letting her know that she needed to replace the cooling band that was wrapped around it. The attorney frowned when she realized that complete healing of her still aching body was not going to happen any time soon.
By the time she stood up, she could hear car doors slamming, more than one of them. That could only mean one thing...that he wasn't alone. The sound of the large garage door bumping closed on the concrete floor just preceded the click of the handle on the door that opened to the house.
From where she was standing she could see the door that leads from the garage into the living area of his home. A very tired looking Hajime slowly entered, holding a couple of grocery bags. She could tell that he was trying not to limp. She felt so bad for him. He'd had to put in a full day at work, while all she did was stay here, resting, and reading reports about the latest police department debacle. Wrongful death suits were already being filed, as she suspected they would be. Trailing behind him were two small boys, both wearing navy blue school uniforms and dragging red backpacks.
Reflexively, Tokio bowed and murmured, "Good evening," before she walked over to him and took the bags from his hands. At least she hadn't said, 'Welcome home.' Fortunately, she'd stopped herself right before those words flowed from her lips. They almost had. It was an old familiar greeting that she gave him as a matter of course each time he came home back in Meiji 1. But in this era it would have been way too presumptuous of her to say such a thing. She was tempted to place the bags on the kitchen counter, but she felt that it would be rude of her to do so without first being introduced to the boys, the children he'd had with Yaso-san during this era.
The prosecutor hadn't intended for him to be the one to do the shopping. Tokio had hoped that he would have a trusted subordinate do it for him. She should have known better. There was no way he would send anyone to purchase food for his family. Even though a subordinate may be trustworthy, all they would have to do to invite disaster would be to set the bags of food down for a moment, unattended. If someone were watching, they could take the opportunity that a momentary lapse in duty would provide, to taint the items in the bags. It wouldn't take long, and the results would most likely be deadly, if what had happened to both of them over the last days was an indication of what was to come in the future.
Criminal elements had no trouble at all eliminating the family members of the people they targeted. Her former husband knew that first hand when Yaso was taken so brutally from him and their boys. The little daughter of her predecessor at the DOJ, Fujita Hiroshi, also lost her life along with both her parents.
SAITOH
"Good evening."
Tokio bowed and took the grocery bags from Saitoh before he could protest.
"Thank you," Saitoh said, nodding his head in thanks. Drinking in the sight of her, he wanted to say more, to ask her how her day had gone and brush her errant bangs away from her face and inspect a bruise that was blossoming on her pale skin like an unwanted flower, but knew that these first few moments with Tokio and the boys were critical.
Instead, he motioned to Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi. "Takagi-san, these are my children."
Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi looked up at the tall, slender woman for a second, as if they couldn't believe that there was another person in the house, and then bowed politely.
"Good Evening, Takagi-san," Tsutomu said soberly, looking intently at the grey eyed attorney. He glanced at the cooling band on her knee and his expression became one of cautious concern. "My name is Saitoh Tsutomu. Welcome to our home."
Tsuyoshi's reaction was less restrained.
"Hello, Takagi-san! I'm Tsuyoshi and I'm this many years old." He held up four fingers, his face a study in ferocious, yet friendly concentration. "Tsutomu is seven." He dropped his red backpack on the floor and walked over to where the woman was standing.
"Daddy says you are friend of his from a long time ago and that you work together." He smiled, his canines peeking out a little from beneath his lips, much like his father.
"Are you a police officer too?"
TOKIO
For a moment the prosecutor's heart was literally stuck in her throat, preventing her from uttering a word. She felt like she was almost close to tears.
Although Hajime had been both father and mother to his children, Tokio doubted that he could truly understand the depth of feeling that came with motherhood. Yaso may have brought these precious boys into the new era, but Tokio had been their original birth mother almost two centuries ago. To the attorney the bond between mother and child could be no less strong than it had been all those years ago.
It was something that she would never share with the police officer unless she was married to him, lest he think her too presumptuous. But from the moment her secretary had told her about his family tragedy, Tokio knew that those boys were her birth children. She had a debt to Yaso for not only bringing them into this era, but for saving their lives the day she was so savagely killed. Someday in the future, whether the attorney rejoined Hajime's family or not, she would go to Yaso's grave, so she could properly thank the woman and pay her respects. Yaso did not deserve to die. Had she lived and had Tokio discovered the truth about her own past, she would never have interfered with Saitoh's family. She would have been pleased that her children were reunited with their father, and had a loving, protective mother.
To Tokio, her 'babies' looked almost exactly as they did 2 centuries ago, despite having a different birth mother. The only one that was missing was Tatsuo. That fact caused a heaviness to settle over Tokio's heart. Would she ever see her youngest son again? Where had he wound up in this new era? She might never discover what fate had befallen Tatsuo, but knowing that these two were alive and well brought a special kind of joy to her life.
After a few moments Tokio was able to control her emotions, regaining the ability to speak.
"I am Takagi Tokio. Tsutomu-kun and Tsuyoshi-kun, I'm very pleased to meet both of you," she replied with a smile, giving each of the boys a little bow in turn before adding, "Please take care of me."
The attorney did not miss the glance that Tsutomu gave the cooling band on her leg. This one was truly still his father's son, just as he had been in Meiji 1. Tsuyoshi was as friendly and open as he'd been in the past.
Tokio was a bit taken back by Hajime's admission that they were friends from a long time ago. It was a true statement, but not quite in the way that anyone would expect, considering the true meaning of 'a long time ago'.
"Four and seven. I think that those are quite nice ages to be," Tokio commented to Tsuyoshi, bending over a little to get down closer to his eye-level. She would have bent her knees, so she could talk to him face to face, but with the way one of them hurt, she knew that she would not be able to get back up without help.
"Yes, Tsuyoshi-kun, I work in the same complex as your father, however, I am not a police officer. I'm a lawyer."
She glanced at Hajime, smiling, before adding, "Your father and I are friends from a long, long time ago." It wouldn't hurt for her to confirm this fact.
Bless Yaso for birthing these precious lives into this new era, and for giving her own life so that they could live to find their mother from long ago. Tokio was resolved to ask Hajime, someday when the memory was not quite so raw, to accompany her to Yaso's grave so the attorney could thank the woman properly for making the sacrifice she did for their boys.
SAITOH
Silently, Saitoh watched as a strange, paradox filled reunion unfolded before his very eyes.
Tokio's eyes widened, her pupils dilating with emotions that he couldn't even hazard a guess at. Seemingly unable to speak, she looked down at the two boys, her eyes soft and shiny with unshed tears.
(Does she know them?) He wondered to himself, the thought of recognition both welcome and bittersweet.
He thought of Yaso, remembering how she'd delivered these children into the world and raised them up rightly before being ripped away from her family. Was he doing right by her, bringing this woman into his home, his life? Was it dishonorable to hope that Tokio would accept these children, children that she'd mothered two centuries before and fill up the unimaginably painful void that Yaso had left behind when she'd been murdered?
His heart contracted…then expanded when Tokio found her voice.
"I am Takagi Tokio. Tsutomu-kun and Tsuyoshi-kun, I'm very pleased to meet both of you," she replied with a smile, giving each of the boys a little bow in turn before adding, "Please take care of me."
Saitoh looked at the attorney, clad in a t-shirt and a pair of his too large sweatpants. She was pale, bruised and sore, but still alive. Considering the dire circumstances, it was the best that he'd been able to do for her.
(It will get better. She's here now. I can protect her properly.)
Tokio set down the groceries and bent down so she could talk properly to Tsuyoshi. He could tell that the action pained her injured knee. He glanced at the cooling band on her leg and hoped that her assessment that she didn't need a doctor to attend to her had been correct.
Speaking of doctor's…..his own leg was in no better shape than Tokio's. He would need to check and undoubtedly change his dermal bands this evening. He conceded that he'd likely ripped his sutures in the apprehension of Horata-san, but that was a small price to pay to get a class A asshole off the streets.
"Yes, Tsuyoshi-kun, I work in the same complex as your father, however, I am not a police officer. I'm a lawyer."
"You must be the type of lawyer that puts the criminals in prison rather than the type that gets them out of jail." Tsutomu said under his breath, after a moment and a knowing glance at his father.
When Tokio smiled at him and conceded that she was a friend from a long, long time ago, he smiled back. Truth in their case was certainly stranger than fiction.
"Boys, I expect that you will take very good care of Takagi-san while she is at our house."
"We will! I promise." Tsuyoshi said, bobbing his head like a ball.
"Yes, Sir." Tsutomu said more reservedly before adding. "I'll do my very best to be a good host and keep Takagi-san safe."
Saitoh nodded, pleased with his boy's response. "That's good. Now, Tsutomu, come with me and help me get the rest of the groceries from the car."
Tsuyoshi walked over to him and tugged on his pant leg.
"Daddy, what am I supposed to do to help?"
"You can help put the groceries away."
"Daddy?"
Saitoh sighed. "Yes, Tsuyoshi?"
His little boy held up his hand, stained scarlet.
"Why is your leg bleeding?"
Tsutomu paled, his hands clenching into fists. "Are you all right father?"
"Yes, I just hurt my leg at work a little today. It's all right, so quit fussing."
"But you're bleeding!" Tsutomu said, his eyes wide.
"I'll get you a dermal band." Tsuyoshi offered, wiping his hand on his school uniform.
Saitoh looked over at Tokio, wordlessly asking for assistance. This is not how he'd intended this evening to progress. "That won't be necessary, Tsuyoshi, I'll take care of it myself."
TOKIO
"That's correct, Tsutomu-kun, I am the kind of lawyer who tries to put the criminals in jail for a very long time," she responded with an affirmative nod of her head.
There was no need to tell a child of seven that putting criminals where they belonged, and keeping them there, was a task much easier said than done. With the help of corrupt politicians, law-enforcement personnel on the take from either the yakuza or the syndicate, and sleazy attorneys, who had no shame, far too many of New Meiji's bad guys became more slippery than greased eels, making it almost impossible to incarcerate them for even a minimum amount of time.
"Thank you, boys, I will count on both of you, then, to look after me," the prosecutor told them appreciatively. Yaso-san and Hajime had raised these two to be honorable with a staunch sense of duty. This only confirmed for Tokio that they'd had a wonderful mother in Yaso-san, who most likely had often been put in the position of acting like a 'single-parent' due to the nature of the inspector's job.
"Why is your leg bleeding?" At those words Tokio glanced down at Hajime's leg, seeing an ooze of dark red coming through the fabric of his trousers.
She paled, not because he was bleeding, although it did make her worry to a certain degree, but because the boys saw it. These children already had their lifetime quota of bloody trauma due to seeing their mother murdered before their eyes. Tokio could only guess what was going through their minds at the moment, especially Tsutomu's, at the sight of their father's blood. He had been old enough to remember the violent event that stole his mother from their family. If his clenched fists and comments were an indication, the boy was quite worried about his father. That was not surprising in the least.
Saitoh looked at her, clearly sending a silent request for her to help him out. He was tired, injured, and probably had a very trying day at work. She intended to find out about that at some point, but not before he was cleaned up, fed, and rested.
"Yes, Tsutomu-kun, helping your father get the rest of the groceries out of the car is a very good idea. I'll help your brother clean up while you are doing that, " she glanced at her former husband to get his approval before gently resting her hand on Tsuyoshi's shoulder to turn him around and gently guide him to the kitchen sink.
On her way to the kitchen she looked over her shoulder and asked Tsutomu to please put the grocery bags that she'd placed on the floor, on the kitchen counter for her, which he did. Granted the bags had been on the floor, but she'd disinfect the counter once they were emptied.
"Could you and your father please put the rest of the groceries on the counter, as well?" she added, speaking to both Hajime and his older son, as they headed back out to the garage.
She wasn't too worried about the sight of the inspector's blood, aside from the fact that the boys had seen it, and Tsuyoshi had it smeared on his little hand. Hopefully, he'd just torn his stitches during the course of the day. Only kami knew what the man had done after he left the press conference this morning. Most likely he'd pushed himself to the limit just as he had back in the day when the two of them were married. Even though she was no longer his wife, she fully intended to gently cajole him into taking it easier at least for the next few days. She realized that she no longer had as much influence over him as she had in Meiji 1 due to her lack of marital status.
There was a small stool near the sink. The attorney immediately recognized what it was for. She dropped her hand from the four year old's shoulder as she bent over to slide the stepstool directly in front of the double tubs.
"Here you go," Tokio told him.
The child was probably quite capable of doing this himself, but the blood on his hands would transfer to anything he touched, and the attorney was still just tired enough to not want to clean blood off of more than Tsuyoshi's school uniform.
Internally she groaned when she thought of that. These days school uniforms were most likely machine washable, but did Hajime have any BIZ laundry pre-soaker in the house? That stuff worked great for getting out blood stains. Surely Yaso-san would have kept some on hand. If she had, it might be used up by now, unless he didn't know how to use it. Oh. Good. Grief. Thought Tokio. Why she was going with this distracting train of thought was quite beyond her. It was probably just a manifestation of exhaustion.
"Thank you Takagai-san," the young boy told her as he lifted his leg to get onto the stool, momentarily grasping the edge of the counter to steady himself, leaving a red smudge behind. He then leaned forward as far as possible reaching for the faucet handle, pressing himself and his clothes against the counter's edge. Tokio had to stifle a sigh. The uniform was already blood stained, so a little more of the stuff wasn't going to cause anymore cleaning than was already necessary.
Tokio beat him to the faucet handle, again to prevent extra clean-up. She turned on the warm water and he promptly stuck both hands under the stream of slow flowing liquid. She grabbed the pump bottle of liquid hand soap that was sitting beside the sink before asking with a pleasant smile, "Please hold out your hands, and I'll give you a squirt."
SAITOH
Thankful for Tokio's intervention, Saitoh motioned Tsutomu out to the garage.
"Son," He reached out and caught the boy by his shoulder before they made it to the car. Tsutomu was trembling. "I'm fine. Some of the stitches in my leg have split, that's all." Normally not one to have to explain much to anyone, he continued, trying to comfort his child without resorting to any ridiculous platitudes.
"Are you hurting?" Tsutomu looked up at him, his amber eyes were wide with apprehension.
"A little, but pain can be managed," Saitoh replied, "As can fear."
Tsutomu hung his head. "I'm not supposed to be afraid. I'm sorry."
"Ahou," Saitoh's tone was surprisingly soft. "It's normal to have fear, as long as you can face it, fix it and then forget about it. We'll talk about this later. For now, let's get the groceries inside."
Tsutomu nodded and took a bag without another word.
When they entered the kitchen, they found Tokio up at the sink, helping Tsuyoshi wash his hands. The child's hands were covered in bright bubbles and he was clearly enjoying himself.
"Saitoh-san, do you have any blood remover?" Tokio asked him, her calm voice welcome.
"Beneath the sink," He answered as he and Tsutomu set the rest of the grocery bags down.
"Tsutomu, would you please put away the groceries? I'm going to go and re-bandage my leg."
He nodded at Tokio, beyond thankful that she was here to help manage. It was amazing how much easier it was with another…..he sighed inwardly…..he was going to say another parent, but that wasn't fair to Tokio. She wasn't the boy's mother, not in this life. He had hopes, such hopes, that in time she would take that paramount place in their family, but that hadn't happened yet. For now though, her help was greatly appreciated.
With that, Saitoh walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. He took the family med-kit from the hall closet and went into his bedroom bathroom.
Taking off his uniform trousers he saw that the blood was coming from the top of his thigh, where the numbing agents the doctor had given to him had not yet worn off. The bottom of the wound, nearly six inches below where the pain was coming from, was also showing signs of bleeding, but the blood hadn't saturated the second later of dermal bandages.
(Moron)
He snorted, decidedly un-amused at the mess and dismayed that he'd caused his oldest to have to relive some of his deepest fears, especially in front of someone he didn't know. Tsutomu had heard his mother being murdered and seen her body, despite Saitoh's efforts to spare his son such a macabre sight. He'd been only four at the time but that trauma was a living wound that the little boy still carried with him. Seeing his father wounded had brought up dark memories and Saitoh knew he was responsible for that, a fact that deeply troubled him.
(I'll have to talk with him…let him know that I'm not displeased with him)
Saitoh knew that Tsutomu had to face and overcome his fears or they would slowly consume him. What he wasn't sure of was the best way to help his son learn to live with what he'd seen and move on. The child counselors, where he'd taken Tsutomu, had been as useful as a box of de-encrypted cyber chips. Horrified at what the boy went through, they were all about focusing over and over again on the loss rather than how to overcome it. Ironically, Watanabe had done wonders for his eldest, encouraging him to talk it out and come up with solutions to overcome the anxiety, but Saitoh knew that a lot of the healing would have to come from within the home setting.
(First things first)
Stepping inside the bathtub, Saitoh carefully unrolled the first and then second layer of dermal bands. The first layer was soaked at the top; the second later was saturated all the way through. Saitoh dispassionately looked at the injury for the first time. It was a miracle he hadn't bled out after getting knifed at the sunshine café. The wound, nearly the length of his hand went down to the bone and had severed an artery.
If Tokio hadn't been quick to fashion an emergency tourniquet, he wouldn't be standing around looking like an idiot in his underwear. He'd be dead, his children orphaned and fostered on his sister. Another snort. Saitoh was damn determined never to have Katsu raise his kids. They were his responsibility and he was just going to have to be more careful.
Rinsing his leg free of blood, he dried the wound and then applied Medi-Dine to the wound, a strong antiviral and antibacterial agent. He let the dark liquid dry and then applied non-stick gauze to the part of the severed skin that was bleeding, the sutures clearly torn. Once this was done he wrapped the leg in two layers of pre-sterilized dermal bands, then strapped a cooling band to his lower thigh to keep the swelling at bay. He'd have to go to the doctor tomorrow to have the sutures fixed and examined, but for tonight, this would suffice.
He changed clothing, donning his normal non-duty attire, a black t-shirt and black pair of sweat pants and went back outside to where Tokio and his boys were.
TOKIO
As Tokio supervised Tsuyoshi washing his hands (it was more like playing with the soap bubbles than actual washing), the door to the garage clicked open. The boy's cleaning technique really didn't matter, because all signs of the blood that had been on his small hands were being erased and flushed down the drain and that, after all, was the point.
Now all she needed to do was to clean off the edge of the counter and the white shirt he was wearing. Fortunately, the navy blue jacket of his school uniform had been unbuttoned exposing the shirt beneath when he decided he needed an impromptu hand towel.
She looked toward Hajime and in what she hoped was a calm voice, asked him about blood remover. His reply sent her to peek under the sink. She didn't have to interrupt Tsuyoshi because the stepstool was off to the side of one of the double doors that accessed the storage space. Peering in and glancing around, she hoped that she would find what she was looking for on this side of the compartment, and not behind the door that was blocked by the stepstool. If she had to move Tsuyoshi from his perch right now, she had no doubt that she'd be mopping soap bubbles off the floor. Finally, she spotted a half gallon jug that clearly stated that it 'removed blood stains in minutes'. She truly hoped that it wasn't just some advertising hype.
She closed the door, deciding that some hand rinsing and drying should be the next item on the agenda. The attorney took each of Tsuyoshi's small hands in hers, directing them under the stream of warm water, gently rubbing them until all the bubbles were gone, before she ripped a paper towel off the roll, handing it to the child. She smiled inwardly when she felt the callouses on the surface of his palms. No surprise there. She'd seen Hajime's dojo and her former husband believed in training their boys at an early age, at least he did during Meiji 1. It appeared to be the same in this era, too.
In the process of helping the four year old get his hands rinsed completely and dried, she heard Saitoh ask his seven year old to put the groceries away. After nodding to her the inspector turned and walked down the hall, leaving Tokio alone with the two boys.
She had the feeling that the Tsutomu must have done this before. Back in Meiji 1 it was important to both Hajime and Tokio that their boys learn to be responsible adults, and thus gave them tasks to complete as part of the training to reach that goal.
Tsuyoshi jumped off the stool, handing her the crumpled, damp paper towel as he landed lightly on his feet.
"I want to put the food away, too," he announced, hopping towards the closest grocery sack. Tsutomu cast a speculative glance in his younger brother's direction. Tokio got the feeling that the seven year old would rather do what his father asked by himself.
"I think that all of us should help with that," she interjected before the younger boy could grab the bag, "but not before you take off your school jacket, Tsuyoshi-kun, and put it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs."
As the boy did what she suggested, she asked him, "Do you have a t-shirt on under your dress shirt?"
An affirmative nod was all that Tokio needed to see to give her a sense of relief. At least for the moment she wouldn't need to send Tsutomu to find something for his little brother to wear and risk interrupting Saitoh, who was down in the bedroom end of the house, tending his wounds.
"Could you please take your shirt off as well?" she requested. "It needs washing."
He again nodded a 'yes' and began to tug at the top button of his white dress shirt, his small fingers trying to push it through the slit in the fabric. It was evident that the four year old needed a little help. He did manage to get the top two undone, but there were more waiting their turn. If the front of the shirt hadn't been smudged with blood, she would have just lifted it over his head at this point, inside out.
"Do you mind if I help you?" she asked him. With a bashful, but pleased look on his face Tsuyoshi shook his head 'no'.
She quickly released him from the shirt, put it in one side of the double sink, turned on the cold water, and reached back under the sink to get the blood remover, dumping the required amount into the sink with the clothing. She was glad that the necessary amount to use was printed in large lettering on the front of the label. Before she returned her attention to the boys, she turned off the tap and dipped the damp paper towel, that Tsuyoshi had handed her, into the sink and used it to scrub away the blood smudges on the counter's edge.
While she was dealing with the blood stained shirt and counter, the inspector's youngest son had picked up one of the grocery bags and was walking toward the pantry which Tokio inspected that morning. Meanwhile, Tsutomu was putting the milk, eggs, and vegetables into the refrigerator.
The attorney was quite impressed that the older boy realized that the cold food needed to be stored away first. "Thank you, Tsutomu-kun, for putting the things that needed to be kept cold away first," she praised.
The boy just nodded his head to acknowledge her words, but the look on his face spoke to how pleased he was that she noticed. It was very important to Tokio that she establish some positive rapport with Hajime's sons. She was trying so hard not to compare them to how they'd been in the past. This was a different era, and she was not their birth mother in this time and place.
"Tsuyoshi-kun, I'll hand you things from the bags and you can put them in the cupboard," Tokio told the youngster. "You can put them on the lower shelves. When your brother is finished putting things in the fridge, he can help us by putting things on the higher shelves."
Dutifully, the four year old handed her the bag that he had in his hand and she began removing items and handing them back to him to shelve. Hajime had assigned this task, and she would be the one to supervise its execution. It reminded her of similar scenes that played out ages ago. Additionally, she would refresh her memory about what was on the list she gave him to use at the store. There were parts of this day that were a bit foggy. She must have been half asleep when she communicated the shopping list to him. So this exercise with the boys should refresh her memory about what was on that list. She wondered whether the inspector had purchased any additional items.
As she handed the last few items to the boys to place in the cupboard, she noticed that there was a condiment missing that had been on her list. It was something she needed to cook the kabocha. When she realized exactly which item it was that was missing, what she'd done to Hajime hit her like a pallet of bricks. It was the cooking sake. Oh, gads. She'd asked a recovering alcoholic to buy liquor.
It didn't matter that it was only cooking sake; it was alcohol none the less. He'd been under so much stress the last few days; he was injured; he was tired. He was a very strong man, but under certain circumstances even the strong could fall. It was unconscionable that she'd put temptation right in front of his face. It was a great credit to the man and his inner strength that he had skipped that particular purchase. He must have recognized the danger of that temptation and he chose to walk away from it. She was so proud of him.
Tokio felt heartsick. She needed to apologize to her former husband for putting him in that position and to ask his forgiveness. She would never, ever put him in that situation again. She could cook the kabocha a different way. She didn't need to use her grandmother's recipe.
She hoped that the remorse she was feeling, did not show up on her face. At least the boys had their backs to her for the most part. Now that everything was put away it was time to make dinner. She did have something in mind.
Bowing slightly, Tokio addressed the children, "Tsutomu-kun, Tsuyoshi-kun, please accept my sincere thanks for helping me with the groceries today."
Tsutomu was the first to speak, "You are a guest in our house. It was a pleasure to help you, Takagi-san."
"And Daddy told him to," Tsuyoshi quickly chimed in.
SAITOH
Saitoh watched carefully from the hallway as Tokio worked with his children to put the groceries away. He smiled at how adroitly she was able to divvy up the allotted work, giving Tsuyoshi the lower shelves and Tsutomu the higher ones. It was a clever way to get the work done and avoid an argument.
He made a mental note to use this strategy with his children in the future.
(She's so good at this…) He admitted as he watched the interaction with his children and the woman he hoped would eventually be their mother. (So natural…)
The Tokio of his memory had been a superb wife and mother. Perhaps fate or whatever it was that had conspired to bring he and his former wife back together would be kind and Tokio would find the same sense of joy and fulfillment that she had two centuries earlier when it came to matters of home and family. It was more than Saitoh could hope for….she was more than he should hope for, considering the mistakes he'd made in his life.
Tokio became very still suddenly, her happy countenance crumbling for some reason. Looking almost as if she was ill, he watched, concerned, as she looked intently at the nearly filled cupboard, and then away, as she carefully and quickly mastered herself.
(What was that about?) Saitoh thought to himself, unhappy that something had caused this woman any measure of consternation. An unwelcome thought hit him, one that only deepened his sense of chagrin.
(Oh Shit….she really did need that sake for cooking) Hadn't Yaso insisted that a well-stocked Japanese kitchen needed four things: salt, sugar, sake and soy sauce? Saitoh of course added soba to the list, but the results were the same.
His kitchen, by necessity would not have alcohol in it. There would be no warmed sake in the winter, no drinks other than water for dinner, no social hours with friends and colleagues – not that he had any friends other than Watanabe, but that was completely beside the point. Tokio would, if she became a part of his life, would go without a huge component of their culture, both professionally and privately. It wasn't fair to her, but it was life and a part of him that he hoped she could come to accept…or at least put up with.
Bowing slightly, Tokio addressed the children, "Tsutomu-kun, Tsuyoshi-kun, please accept my sincere thanks for helping me with the groceries today."
"You are a guest in our house. It was a pleasure to help you, Takagi-san." Saitoh quirked up an eyebrow at how friendly Tsutomu was being with the first and only houseguest they'd had in this house.
"And Daddy told him to," Tsuyoshi chirped.
"Yes I did," Saitoh entered the kitchen, amused how the boys snapped to attention when he entered. "Tsutomu did a fine job of putting the food away. You also did well Tsuyoshi."
"And what about Takagi-san?" his youngest pointed out. "She did the bestest job of all! She cleaned up my uniform."
Saitoh barked a sharp laugh. "Yes, she did." He looked over at Tokio and caught her gaze with his own, showing her silently the warmth and regard he felt for her at that very moment. "Thank you, Takagi-san."
"Father, what are we eating tonight?" Tsutomu asked.
Saitoh blinked. (That is a very good question) There were vegetables in his crisper that had never been in the house before. "Why don't we let our guest decide what we eat?"
TOKIO
As soon as the words 'Daddy told him to' left Tsuyoshi's lips, a deep, familiar male voice chimed in, agreeing with his son's assessment, and adding some words of praise of his own about the job the boys completed. Tokio did not miss that both children snapped to attention as their father entered, just as though they were some of his troops during the Seinan war.
The attorney squeezed her lips together to keep from smiling when she realized that the inspector had been doing some reconnaissance on his boys from the hallway, where he was hidden from view, but could hear all that went on. It was so much like what she remembered of him from years ago.
Tokio's heart clenched and her cheeks blushed pink, when Tsuyoshi announced to his father and brother that she'd done the 'the bestest' job by cleaning his shirt. This dear child of New Meiji, who had been her own so many years ago, was just as kind and delightful as he'd been in the past. The feeling in her chest told her clearly that the bonds of motherhood transcended time and place. She knew that she wanted nothing more than to mother these two precious ones again. But...right now...it was too presumptuous to even think those thoughts.
Should she even dare to hope that she could be united once more, as a family, with these three wonderful men? As soon as she'd discovered and accepted the truth about the past she'd shared with the inspector, she realized that her feelings for her former husband had not changed one bit over the centuries. The question was, did he feel the same about her?
There was no doubt whatsoever that he was physically attracted to her. She wondered how much of that had been his way to deal with the stress caused by their recent near-death experiences. Then there was Yaso. Was Hajime ready to let go of his late wife and move on? Just thinking about what happened to the boy's birth mother gave Tokio an almost unbearable heartache.
Saitoh spoke, jarring her from her thoughts. He was looking at her, catching her gaze, making her breath catch in her throat. At that moment she knew that there was no mistaking the look in his eyes. It was warm and it silently told her of the regard he had for her. She released her breath, nodding her head in response to his verbal thanks. His silent message gave her hope that just maybe, there was a chance that she could eventually become a part of this household.
"It was my pleasure, Saitoh-san, and the least I could do to repay your kindness of opening your home and allowing me to be a guest here," she responded with warmth, her eyes conveying the feelings she had for him.
Leave it to a hungry boy to break the mood. Things like that never changed. How many times had 'mother, I'm hungry, when are we going to eat' been heard in their home in the Bunkyo Ward?
Sometimes those words had even been spoken by a small voice coming from the hallway-side of the door to their bedroom, early in the morning, when the owner of the voice should have been sleeping, instead of interrupting his parent's private moments. Tokio remembered the disappointed look that always graced Hajime's face when confronted with children ready for breakfast when they should have been still tucked in their beds.
Tokio laughed to herself when Hajime told Tsutomu that they would let their guest decide what to eat. Such a polite, diplomatic way of saying, 'how should I know what to do with all those things we bought at the store. It wasn't my shopping list.'