End of Day Rituals
Date: Sunday, February 5, 2060
Time: All Evening and into the night. (After the Sunshine Café incident)
Place: New Meji District Hospital, Bafuku Burgers, Saitoh Family Residence
Characters: Saitoh, Lt. Watanabe (NPC), Tae, Saitoh's Children (NPC)
"Any movement on the tablet?" Saitoh asked as he ignored Watanabe's objections and slid off of the hospital bed. Carefully, he stood, all his weight on his good leg, then gingerly began to shift his balance, transferring five percent, then ten then twenty percent to the wounded limb.
"Yes, by all means, tear those stitches," Watanabe groused, sounding at the moment very much like a grandmother of two that she was rather than one of the New Meiji PD's most experienced cyber crackers. "And no, the tracking beacon is stationary – has been for the last three hours."
Saitoh nodded, wincing a little when the weight transfer hit seventy five percent of body weight. (That is the safe limit) Contrary to popular belief, Saitoh Hajime was very aware (all too aware) that he had limits and that those limits should generally be respected. "If that man is intelligent," he snorted, "and he isn't, he'd have ditched the tablet and be moving into another district as quickly as he can." Saitoh had seen first-hand how rapidly the little red haired menace could move. "He's either dead, too injured to escape to a safer locale, or is trying to crack the access codes."
This time it was Watanabe's turn to snort. They did that a lot in this squadron. "The boy won't be cracking the encryption protocols I programmed," She smiled, the titanium implants that were embedded in the left side of her face not wrinkling. "Any attempt will result in system wipe and an overloading circuit board. Which reminds me," she gave her superior officer a look that would have made lesser men run for cover, "you have an appointment tomorrow with Arai-san to have your new body armor fitted, since you thoughtfully melted your last set."
She looked up (for the Captain was a very tall man and she was a very short little woman) at the burn bandages covering most of his chest and back. "if Takagi-san hadn't had the presence of mind to remove your armor," the older woman (who had reared four sons on her own and secretly counted the numbskull who was getting dressed in the hospital room as her fifth) had carefully watched the surprising encounter between the slender assistant prosecuting attorney and her normally unflappable boss added, "seriously burning her hands in the process, you'd have been fried to a crisp."
Saitoh frowned with a surprisingly degree of concern at the news, then realized he was frowning (and in whose presence he was frowning), and continued to button up the shirt of a spare uniform. "Her hands, I'm sure will heal and as you can clearly see I am not quite crispy, so quit fussing, it's terribly unbecoming." He finished up another button, and not realizing it, frowned again. "I wasn't aware her burns were serious."
"They weren't. I just said that to gauge your reactions, which for the record were very interesting," Watanabe's digital implant glinted, as if the artificial eye was winking. "I'm tempted to throw your sage council right back in your narrow face, but suspect you'd demote me to traffic meter duty until I retired."
"You would be correct," Saitoh grumbled, amused and yet not at his second in command. "
"Takagi is fine. I trailed her to her home after the medics released her, just to make sure." Watanabe's teasing tone dropped, not because she feared demotion, but out of sincere concern for her friend and colleague. "Not surprisingly, she lives in one of the safer neighborhoods and the security detail we set up will last another week, so she should have enough time to get her act together and get decent protection protocols set up. I checked her registration records and she does own a gun, but it's the shitty standard issue that the DOJ hands out, nothing that would really help her if she got in trouble."
"She has my spare sidearm," Saitoh was tying his shoes at this point, and didn't look up at his partner.
"I…see," Watanabe forced a neutral tone to cover her surprise. For Saitoh, sharing a weapon with another human being was akin to swapping bodily fluids and getting matching tattoos.
"Not permanently, Moron," Saitoh stood up, a task that wasn't quite as easy as he would have liked it to be. "I like that gun," He reached for his utility belt and strapped it to his narrow hips. "I'll see to it that she finds a suitable replacement, one that will hopefully…" Amber eyes grew stark and haunted as he thought about his friend and her predecessor Fujita Hiroshi and about Fujita's family, his kind wife and the beautiful little brown eyed girl that his eldest son had played with during the summer company picnic.
Saitoh had been one of the first officers on the scene of the scene of another car bomb explosion and had pulled the child's torn little body from her pink car seat and performed CPR, long past the point that the girl was dead in his arms. Watanabe saw this starkness and understood, because she'd been there as well and had performed similar attempts at lifesaving upon the child's mother.
"How are you holding up?" She asked, pulling herself and her partner from the dark memories.
"I'm fine," was the curt response, "no need to get your granny panties in a twist."
Watanabe laughed, the synth chords that had replaced her savaged voice box sounding like metal scrapping against a chalkboard. "I don't wear panties," she said dryly, getting a kick out of the slightly horrified look on her partners face at this revelation. "And you know damn well that I am talking about."
Firmly pushing all thoughts of granny panties aside, Saitoh glanced over at this partner and friend, a woman who had, after Okita disappeared, taken on the heavy responsibility of being his AA sponsor, a duty she took very seriously.
"I'm holding up," which was about the best that a man…an addict could hope for, with only a year of sobriety under his belt. "and will continue to do so," he promised.
"Good, cause I'd really hate to kick your ass," Watanabe handed her commanding officer his remaining weapon.
"I'd hate to have it kicked," Saitoh responded as he took the weapon with a degree of warmth that most people would have found shocking. "See you tomorrow, Karen. I'll bring coffee."
Watanabe smiled at his ritualistic farewell. "See you tomorrow Hajime. Don't be late."
.
Current Location: all over the damn city
Current Mood: lonely
The drive to Katsu's house seemed to take forever. Traffic was heavy and it felt to Saitoh as if every moron with a driver's license had hit the roads and was hell bent on getting in fender benders, cutting people off and generally pissing him off.
Punching on his speaker comm, Saitoh barked the name of his sister and waited for a connection.
"You're late," tinny sounding, Katsu's voice filtered through the car's speaker system. "When you tell me you're going to pick up the boys at five in the afternoon, I expect to see you at five in the fucking afternoon."
"I was detained," Saitoh checked his blind spot and merged into one of the highway arteries that moved from the heart of the city, towards the outlying neighborhoods where people who could afford the relative safety of suburbia tried to rear their families and stay out of the line of fire.
"You couldn't even bother to call me? Call them?"
There was no mercy in the woman's tone. Saitoh appreciated this about his sister as he tended not be overflowing with that particular emotion himself, especially in regard to his conduct with his children, who he knew were still reeling from the death of their mother and from the alcohol fueled abandonment of their father. For a man who had very few regrets in his life, the knowledge that he'd failed to meet the emotional needs and basic expectations of the people who mattered most to him was a source of deep, private grief and he knew as certainly as he knew the velocity tables of every automatic firearm on the market, that this was a failure he would work to overcome for the rest of his life.
"I was in surgery, Katsu," Saitoh turned on the car signal and turned onto the exit that would take him to the home of his sister and her husband, a very genial and profoundly patient doctor.
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, "do you want the boys to spend the night?"
"No," Saitoh said wearily. "I want them to get ready to come home. I will be at your door way within ten minutes."
He was there in nine, early enough that he could hear Tsutomu arguing with his sister. "I don't want to go home with him!" his son's voice pleaded from behind the door, "I want to stay here with you and my cousins!"
This was not a new argument, but a painful one to hear, nevertheless. Thankfully, Katsu was far more patient with his children than she was with their father and quietly urged his oldest child to help get his little brother's coat on and to be nice, since Daddy's day at work had been a very long one.
Thirty Minutes Later - Bakufu Burgers
Saitoh steeled himself for what he was sure was going to be an unbearably unpleasant experience. The trauma and stress of the morning's altercation at the Sunshine Café was nothing compared to this crucible.
Exhaling slowly through his nose as if preparing to enter a battlefield, Saitoh took a deep breath, and with his equally stoic offspring by his side, pushed open the door to Bafuku Burgers. The boys, particularly Tsutomu, had asked that they stop at the popular Shinsengumi themed restaurant to eat dinner before heading home for the evening.
Originally Saitoh had intended to go through the drive-through rather than endure the indignity of wading through a sea of snot nosed brats, ball pits, and fast food service personnel dressed up in blue and white, but as he drove towards the eatery, he realized that he was too tired to safely operate a vehicle and that a break, one that hopefully included lots of coffee, would unfortunately be required.
The pain medicine he'd been given at the hospital was starting to wear off and the burns on his chest and back were throbbing with every step he and his boys took towards the order counter. His injured leg was still mostly numb, as the anesthetic used during emergency surgery was slower to wear off, a fact that Saitoh was thankful for. The lacerations on his face, a series of shallow cuts on his jaw and a cheekbone, were also stinging, but didn't bear a second thought.
A certain woman on the other hand did. As he and his boys waited silently in line to order, his sleep deprived mind kept wandering back to the woman, a woman who now had a name, an occupation and a hire date, but was in all other aspects a stranger to him. (She didn't feel like a stranger) He could still smell the scent of her black hair, could recall with clinical accuracy the shade of her eyes and the softness of exposed skin. Saitoh blinked, struggling to stay awake and took another step forward, holding on to Tsuyoshi's hand, with Tsutomu in front of him.
Silent and sober, the very tall, amber eyed, Saitoh family finally came to the front of the line and prepared to order.
Tae
Well now wasn't this haori divine? Tae put her hand on her hips and tried to look at herself quite sternly in the mirror. She imagined she was glaring at a worker who was loafing off and nipping a cigarette. She glowered, she glared, she made a face.
"Tae-san?" a voice came near the office door. Tae startled, feeling heat creep to her cheeks. She looked and saw little Maiko, short and mouse-like giving her big brown eyes. "He's here."
"Oh, goodness," Tae said. He was, was he? Second time in two weeks which could only mean one thing. "Give him a coffee, Maiko," Tae said, pulling her hair up into a topknot. "I'll be right out."
Of course he had to come on a cosplay night. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her like this before but it was always so embarrassing. Still the customers loved it and the children besides- even though the hakama made her butt look two sizes bigger than normal.
"It's no wonder women didn't wear these things," she muttered to herself, pulling a compact out of her dresser drawer and adding a touch of lipstick. True, she was a Shinsengumi but there were always the rumors that one, Okita, was a little...well...balancing on the edge. And even the odd man (exceedingly odd) liked to get gussied up now and again.
She fluffed her hair once more. Sighed and dabbed off the makeup because, really, and walked to the front. He was standing there; the cashier, a new boy, bless him, fumbling with the order. Tae shooed him to the side, placed both hands on the counter and looked down at the most adorable boys she'd ever seen, trying to keep a straight face.
"You'd better have a good order if you decided to come in here," said, pitching her voice low. "And you Saitou-san," she said, giving him a real steely look, right in the eye, lord he looked like hell and after so many odd years of knowing him, and Ysao-san... Well... after...after knowing him so long she knew that he should not be here.
"You should wait until after you get well before coming into this establishment." Or any establishment. Honestly! If she had threatened to kidnap him once she'd threatened it a thousand times!
Saitoh
Saitoh quirked up an eyebrow and looked down at Sekihara-san, his stern expression softening slightly when a red cheeked employee skittered up to the counter and placed a beautiful, steaming, blessedly hot cup of coffee in front of him.
"You'd better have a good order if you decided to come in here,"the woman said, in what he was sure she hoped was a low menacing voice. Saitoh smirked a little at the less than intimidating results.
"I've come to confiscate your coffee, Sekihara-san," Saitoh growled right back, though there was no bite in the bark, "all of it." He took a swig of the scalding drink and then set the drink down, feeling for the first time since being hauled off to the hospital on a gurney, like he just might survive. As for her quip about him being well enough to be in here….
"Daddy," Saitoh looked down at his youngest, breaking his train of thought for a second.
"I need to speak with you, please. It's very important."
"Yes, Tsuyoshi?" Saitoh bent down so he could be eye level with the boy, wincing slightly as his thigh protested.
"I can't see to order," the child explained solemnly, then added, "and I can't show Tae-san my new sword."
"Ahh, " Saitoh said with an equal degree of solemnity. Without a word, he lifted the four year old up, until the child was resting on his hip, so that the boy was face to face (and perhaps technically a little taller than the top-knot wearing woman. "Go ahead."
"Hello Tae-san," the four year old chirped politely, extending his plastic katana for inspection. "May I please have the Mibu Meal without any pickles?"
Tae
"That's Sekihara-sama to you, Saitou Hajime, third district commander," she said, giving him a frown. She always got a kick out of his name. Goodness but his parents had big dreams for him. She tried to keep her stern look and not go complete mushy mush as Tsuyoshi was raised up and thrust out his plastic katana.
She took it from him and made a show of inspecting it, running her finger along the plastic "blade" and swishing it through the air, nearly beaning old Takeda.
"Ah! Sorry, Takeda-san!" she said with a little apologetic bow. Then put her stern face back on and handed the sword back. "Very good blade Tsuyoshi-chan. I hope you wield it well. And Mibu Meal, without pickles. And you Tsutomu-chan?" She said, giving him the glariest glare she could glare while keeping her lips puckered. Some customers came in and she smiled at them.
"Irrashaimasse!" she said with a bow, and then turned the glariest glare of all glares on the seven-year-old.
Saitoh
Tsuyoshi beamed when he received his trusty blade back and was set back down on the floor, where he began swishing the plastic katana, using a kata that his father had taught him, content to know that his blade was sharp and there would be no pickles on his burger.
Saitoh watched, secretly amused, as Tae tried to glare at his eldest child, wondering if the woman knew she was already fighting a battle she couldn't hope to win.
While his brother was prone to smiling, Tsutomu was as somber and as serious as Saitoh had been as a child.
"I am too old for a Mibu Meal," the seven year old announced with a drawl that was an echo of his father's, his youthful treble at odds with the ferociously severe frown on his face. "I would like a Bakufu Burger with extra onions, no ketchup, no mustard and no pickles."
Saitoh glanced down at his son, his expression darkening slightly.
Tsutomu swallowed and added, "Please, Sekihara-San."
(That's better) Saitoh gave the boy a slight nod and the hint of a smile, then looked up at the menu, which blurred for a moment, then came into focus again as he tried to decide what to try and wolf down for dinner.
Tae
Goodness what a stern boy. There was plenty of his father in him and perhaps a bit too much. He had been through a lot and probably felt the burden even more. Felt, perhaps that he had to take care of the family, like she had to do when Gai had draft dodged and her own father was oh, so sick. It hadn't been so hard, nor half of what Tsutomu had been through, but it had been a heavy weight indeed. Everything was heavy back then.
"Understood, Tsutomu-chan," Tae said, committing that to memory, and then, gently to Tsuyoshi, "And reign in your kata, just a tad, good sir. You could hit someone."
She couldn't even look stern at Saitou-san. He looked half dead on his feet if it wasn't sheer bloody minded determination that kept his feet nailed to the floor. She offered him a smile instead of the frowns he probably saw every day.
"Go sit down before you fall down, old man. I know what you like. Take your little samurai and get." She shooed them with her hands.
Saitoh
(Old man?) Had it been a different evening, he'd have given her hell for being so impertinent. However tonight, the top-knot wearing woman had been right on the money, and given him a desperately needed cup of coffee, so he supposed a bit of reprieve was in order. "You know me too well, Sekihara-san." He conceded, as he watched her punch in a meal for him that was, he had to admit, his favorite item on the menu.
"Prepare to die!" A pint sized battle cry erupted from the general vicinity of his youngest offspring. Saitoh reached down and put his hand on Tsuyoshi's head, the action instantly stilling the boy's enthusiastic sword swinging and threats of impending death and destruction.
"Sorry Daddy," Tsuyoshi's sheathed his trusty sword (after giving the blade a good flick) slipping the plastic toy in-between the belt loop on his trousers. "I was protecting Tae-san from the ninjas."
"Ninjas?" Saitoh was so tired; he was struggling to keep up with the boy's explanation.
"Yes, ninjas," Tsuyoshi pointed patiently over at a couple of mal-tempered looking kids who were dressed like shinobi. "They're trying to kill her and I'm keeping her safe. It's my job."
Tsutomu flinched, and looked away from his father and brother as if he'd been slapped hard across the face, his expression becoming stark and haunted.
"Ahh," Saitoh nodded and gave the boy's head a little pat, pleased at the protective instincts that the boy was showing, concerned that the boy's normal play acting had brought up painful memories for his older brother, "Well, you can continue your mission…after we eat."
"Tsutomu, would you please help me pay for the meal?" He asked, handing his oldest son his wallet.
After a long pause, Tsutomu took his father's billfold and peered into it, his eyes narrowing with thought. "Do I pay with money or with a card?"
"You choose," Saitoh replied, thankful that the distraction appeared to be working. "You're old enough to make those decisions."
"I am?" Tsutomu said, the ghost of a smile forming on his little face when his father nodded. "I think that old fashioned money is best," he announced as he went over to the counter, checked the amount on the register panel and pulled out an appropriate number of bills and slapped the bills on the counter. "I'm paying for dinner, and" he said proudly to Sekihara-san, cocking his head as he recalled other evenings when his father had purchased food for the family. "…you are supposed to keep the change."
Confident that he'd done his duty and done it well, the seven year old handed his father back his wallet. "May I please go play until the food is ready?"
Saitoh looked out towards the play area, his expression becoming hard and predatory as he carefully scanned the ball pit and jungle gym for any hint of malfeasance. His eyes lingered on one man who had been loitering near a group of children, until the man made eye contact with him and, after a few seconds of staring got up and quickly wandered away from the area. "You may go. Take your brother and stay beside him. Do not speak to any strangers. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sir." Tsutomu said, nodding. "I promise to be careful and take care of Tsuyoshi."
Saitoh nodded at his son, knowing that the boy's word could be relied upon. "I'll call you when it's time to eat."
He watched as Tsutomu took Tsuyoshi by the hand and then scampered off toward where the other children were playing. He sighed then, the weariness and pain, slamming into him with the force of a freight train.
"I'm going to go find a place to sit," he looked over at Sekihara-san, and nodded his thanks. "If you would be so kind as to bring me an extra cup of coffee, I would be in your debt."
Tae
Goodness, the youngest Saitoh seemed so sincere as he was wailing away at the air with his sword and intimidating a group of shinobi, that were at least third-graders, bless them, that quailed. She let Saitoh-san intervene and smiled that it had been for her benefit, even though if only ninja were the problem these days. She couldn't help but wince a little as he flicked his sword, having seen (and closed her eyes through) enough Shinsengumi movies to know what that meant.
She purposefully stared at the register, punching in their order so she would not give Saitoh a significant look. Wasn't it bad enough these days when real katana were being used on the streets? Oh, he was just a child, she knew, and imitating what he saw but still- It always made her faintly queasy to think.
She smiled at Tsutomu-chan who all but demanded that she should keep the change. It was adorable and so much like his father. Yaso-san would... no, she wouldn't. Goodness. She watched as Saitoh-san glowered at the ball pit, sending poor Kanazawa-san scurrying for cover.
"Of course, dear," Tae said in a low voice as the children left to play. She looked into his eyes (which was decidedly difficult. Steamy or not he was still quite an intimidating man even after all this time). "You mustn't be too hard on Kanazawa-san," she said, gesturing with her chin to the man who was now hurrying out onto the street.
"He...well he had a daughter..." and what she had heard about that was almost too terrifying to impart. Tae swallowed and slowly made change to give her hands something to do. "I don't think he means any ill-will toward children. He just misses her." She placed his change on the counter. Normally she would have handed it to him but getting to the back was priority right now.
"Now, go sit down, dear. I'll get your food right out to you and will send Maiko-chan with your coffee. Do try not to glower her into the floorboards." The joke came out a little flat and she smiled at him, or rather his chin because looking into his eyes would have been a disaster, before hurrying into the back.
Saitoh
Saitoh mused on Sekihara-san's admonition not to be so hard on the man lurking by the ball pit as he walked stiffly towards a table, the change from his order still left on the counter, completely forgotten, his injured leg throbbing with pain. The part of him that was a father understood the request and in his own silent way, acknowledged and lamented that a child had been taken, that a parent was left bereft. The other part, the greater part, he had to concede as he sat down at a table that was too short for a man of his stature, was an officer, ex-military and brutally realistic.
(I know what I felt) The man's yearning, the need he'd detected had grown warped, as if the strain of loss and grief and agony had twisted the fibers of the man's soul. (He wants and needs what he should not) There was no judgment, that was for a jury of peers and more evidence than he had at his disposal, but the understanding that something in the grieving process had gone wrong and unless Saitoh was mistaken, and he very rarely was in such matters, a parent with the best of intentions had either become or was in the processing of becoming a predator of children.
Making a mental note of the man's name, Saitoh leaned back in the uncomfortable seat and exhaled wearily. He understood about how good intentions went awry, how good men could fail to live up to their expectations, how easy it was for a human being to become brittle and broken from loss and grief. He had broken himself and was, and probably would always be picking up pieces as a result. That was life and it was his responsibility to deal with it.
He blinked again, struggling to stay awake. Mariko-chan skittered out, red cheeked and stammering and set more coffee down. Recalling yet another admonition that he not glower the twit into the floorboards, he actually tried to nod in a half way pleasant fashion, but must have failed in that endeavor because the young lady blanched and then bowed and might possibly have emitted a sound that some would classify as a giggle (Saitoh was very wary of giggles coming from females) then started skittering back to the food counter in a manner he found decidedly odd.
When he saw their order coming, he looked around and found his boys playing. Despite his weariness, he grinned, his sharp canines poking out a little under his thin mouth when he realized that his two boys were battling and besting five boys in the ball pit (those damn shinobi again) who were older and heavier than his offspring and they were, despite being seven and four, working well as a team. Perhaps there was hope for him as a parent after all.
"Gentlemen," he called (making sure that Tsuyoshi had a chance to whap one of the larger ninja's across the shins with his sword and Tsutumo had neatly dodged a rather ham handed attempt at getting pelted with blue and white plastic balls) "Time for dinner."
The boys immediately stopped what they were doing, climbed out of the ball pit and walked together over to where he was sitting.
Tae
Tae raised her eyebrows as Maiko-chan came into the back, a giggling mess. Oh honey, she wanted to say. You are entirely too young for him. A fact she would find out, quite painfully, if ever she decided to be bold enough. But who would be? Tae fitted their order onto a tray, slipping in a few more fries and a little burger for herself, before walking out with their order.
Chaos in the ball pit. It was the first thing she saw. Samurai versus Ninja. She'd seen too many battles like that and most of them involving the Saitoh boys. She couldn't even say they needed a woman's hand because she had the sneaking suspicion Yaso-san would have either indulged it or pretended it wasn't going on.
"I can't turn my back on you for a second," Tae said, setting down the tray. "You're like a pack of wolves." She absently touched up her top-knot before smoothing out the back of her hakama and sitting, folding one leg over the other.
"So, my dears, how have you been," she said, directing the question to anyone who would answer. Saitoh gossip was generally the best gossip, if only because getting it was a miracle.
Saitoh
"You're like a pack of wolves,"
So sleep deprived it wasn't even funny, Saitoh smirked and raised his second cup (half way drunk) of coffee as if in salute, "Guilty as charged, Sekihara-san."
When she asked how they'd been, he shrugged. He did that a lot. He liked this woman, as much as he liked anybody, but was not very adept at dealing with discussions of a more personal nature.
"I have a loose tooth" Tsutomu said with snarky grin, helpfully reaching up and pulling his upper lip to the side and wiggling the very loose tooth with his tongue."
"We're gonna catch the tooth fairy" Tsuyoshi offered along with a french fry. "And lock her up, cause she entered and broken into our house."
"It's breaking and entering," Saitoh pointed out as he eyed his burger, trying to decide if he wanted to pull the pickles out or not. After careful consideration, he kept the pickles in and took a bite, chewed, and swallowed completely (as people who talked with food in their mouths were in the same league as people who stole from vending machines or tried to pay for parking tickets with laundry tokens.)
Tae
"Oh you shouldn't do that," Tae said, giving Tsuyoshi a frown. "The tooth fairy isn't a criminal. She is a kind older woman who gives you a 100 yen for a loose tooth." Not everything is out to get you, she wanted to say. But that seemed overstepping her boundaries somehow. Instead, she leaned forward and wiped a smidge of ketchup off Tsutomu's lip before boldly stealing Saitoh-san's fry.
"How are you doing in school, Tsuyoshi-chan? And if you dare tell me it's classified I- well, I'll tickle it out of you!" And she gave him a severe stare and a mighty pout. She hoped he did say classified, because then she would give him a nice long tickle, and the dear thing needed a good squirmy laugh.
Saitoh
"If it's classified, then my brother can't tell you," Tsutomu said very seriously, "and you shouldn't ask him, cause you'll get in trouble."
He'd asked his father about what the word meant, once after trying to read something on his father's tablet that had "CLASSIFIED" stamped in big red letters across the front.
"Ohhh," Tsuyoshi said, his eyes going round like a little owl. He looked at Tae-san and snapped his mouth shut, pursing his lips together as if he was trying to lock them, rather than reveal deep dark secrets of his academic career.
"Both boys are doing well in school," Saitoh drained the rest of his coffee, "And you just committed a misdemeanor, fourth class."
"Daddy! Are you going to arrest Sekihara-san?" Tsutomu's eyes went nearly as round as his brother's. He wanted to beg his father not to, but knew better than to interfere.
"I'm tempted," Saitoh growled slightly, "but she makes very good coffee, so she'll get a reprieve, just this once."
Tsutomu glanced at Sekihara-san, then over to his father, who looked, even to his eyes, very tired. "Are you teasing?"
"Yes," Saitoh said, "So quit worrying. It's unbecoming."
Tae
Tae resisted the urge to roll her eyes and stole another fry. Cop humor. Nothing but cop humor. These boys were going to grow up so serious,any time they cracked a joke it would break into a thousand pieces. She was highly tempted to tickle Tsutomu anyway but he would probably only stare at her and wonder what on earth she was up to.
"Don't worry about me, Tsutomu-chan. Your father knows my record is squeaky clean. The only reason he'd arrest me is for being entirely too beautiful." And if he dared contradict her on that, why, she would...she would make his coffee a little slower next time. She took her own burger and carefully unwrapped it.
"It's good to hear that you are both doing well in school. I loved school in your age even though Kazuo kept gluing my hair to my seat. That was until I turned around and popped him right in the nose. Like this!" and she made a gesture. He had cried and she'd gotten in trouble and somehow they'd ended up dating in high school. Go figure.
"But I'm sure you boys are well too behaved for that." The only thing they would do to a girl was likely arrest her for passing notes. It would be an absolute menace.
Saitoh
"You can't be arrested for being beautiful can you?" Tsutomu was skeptical.
He glanced over at his father, who for some reason was concentrating very hard on taking a bite of his burger, then back at the woman, then back at his father, then gave up and offered Sekihara-san a french fry.
"Well, if you could," he said carefully, "then you would be in BIG trouble."
This sounded like a good thing to say. When he glanced at his father, who gave him a rare smile and a bit of a nod, he knew he'd said the right thing.
Saitoh felt his phone vibrate and immediately took it out, slid the comm deck open and began reading.
TXT MSG: ENCRYPTED
START MSG: KWATANABE; SQD3 to HSAITOH;
HEADS UP. UMAGOE / SQD 2 ASSIGNED TO SUNSHINE CASE.
CITING C.O.I. WHAT A P.O.S.
BRIEFIING 4-6 08:00:00
END TXT MSG:
Saitoh frowned, and typed back.
TXT MSG: ENCRYPTED
START MSG: HSAITOH to KWATANABE; SQD3
NO SURPRISE. GET TO BED, OLD WOMAN.
END TXT MSG:
A second later, his phone buzzed again.
TXT MSG: ENCRYPTED
START MSG: KWATANABE; SQD3 to HSAITOH;
KISS MY ASS. BRAT.
...
JUST REC CALL. DRIVE BY. DOJ. JDG YAMATO.
STAND BY FOR DETAILS.
...
YAMATO D.O.A.
WIFE D.O.A.
DRIVER D.O.A.
END TXT MSG:
Saitoh growled and snapped his phone shut. Yamato had been a year away from retiring. One. Fucking. Year.
He looked over at his boys who were laughing, and then over at Sekihara-san in her Shinsengumi uniform. She was a kind woman, just as Yaso had been, as Yamato-san had been. The world seemed to be falling apart, one kind person at a time and he was sick of it. He slipped his phone in his pocket and silently began cleaning up what was left of the meal.
"Boys, we need to get ready to go home," he said quietly.
Tae
Tae put a hand to her heart as Tsutomu nearly melted it right through her ribs. Beautiful enough to get arrested! Goodness. Even if he did break a joke into a million pieces, he'd be able to melt a girl's knees when he got older, no doubt about that!
She took the fry and ate it very carefully and made sure Tsutomu knew it was the tastiest fry she'd ever tasted. Then she got an idea. One that never failed no matter the child. She swiped another fry from Saitoh-san who, no doubt was doing his best not to notice, mimed that she was going to stick the fry in her mouth, then pulled it out, giving the boys a sly look. They looked back at her, aquiver with curiosity. Then, very slowly she started moving the fry toward her nose. Tsutomu cracked first, bursting into a peal of laughter with Tsuyoshi hot on his tail. The fry got closer...closer... and she was seriously considering doing it when Saitoh-san's expression changed.
It was news. Bad news. He looked tired. Weary. Sad. And for a moment she saw something that made her own throat close. Bad news. Very bad news. There was too much bad news these days.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Tae said as Saitoh-san began to clean up. "I'll get it. You men just get on home and..." she lightly, briefly touched his arm. "Wouldn't want you to overdo it." It was a statement but also a plea. Saitoh-san would push himself into an early grave if he kept this up.
Saitoh
"My children and I do not leave behind messes," Saitoh said, giving his boys a look that spoke volumes. Both boys hopped up, despite the clear look of disappointment on their faces at having to go home early and began to clean up their eating space. They rarely had the opportunity to have activities such as this, periods of time where they could indulge in simply being children and he could pretend to be an ordinary father.
"We'll have to come back here soon, or perhaps have dinner at your other establishment," he offered, when Sekihara-san gingerly touched his arm. Yaso had liked this woman and Saitoh understood why. "Thank you for the meal and the coffee."
The boys also gave their thanks, as was right and proper and then they left, Saitoh guiding them carefully and quickly out of the building, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble as they got into the sedan and headed off for home.
Tae
Tae could only nod when he said they would return, and watched them go, the boys looking glum already. If only they'd had more time to play in the ball pit. Even fighting with the dastardly ninja. But bad news trumped everything, it seemed. She watched as Saitoh-san disappeared out the glass doors and sat where she was a moment as her heart gave a few painful thumps.
What a sad, lonely man. Oh if only- If only-
Some customers came in and Tae fixed a smile to her face.
"Irrashaimasse," she said, bowing. Well, no time to think about it now. There was work to be done.
Saitoh
The drive home was uneventful, which was about as good as things were going to get this evening. He parked the car in the garage, activated the security system and took the boys inside. It was time for the boys to begin their homework; then it would be reading. Then it would be time for baths and the brushing of teeth. Then it would be, save one activity, time for bed.
Saitoh leaned against the wall of his kitchen for a moment. He was weary. Sore. (And your point would be what, exactly?) Saitoh's unwillingness to cut anyone any sort of slack with it came to matters of duty also applied to him. Pushing off the wall with an annoyed grunt, he moved to the table, took school bags from both children and carefully examined the contents.
Tsuyoshi was learning to write. Saitoh pointed out areas that needed improvement, and one or two kanji that were acceptable. A drawing was presented, one that his youngest had made in art class. Saitoh wasn't sure, but suspected that it was a drawing of a cat. A purple cat. Who had been smashed in the face with a blunt object moving at high velocity. Saitoh wondered if this was normal, and promptly decided he didn't care and hung up the picture on the fridge.
Tsutomu had math homework. Story problems. Wonderful. Saitoh sat down beside his eldest and read through a scenario that was giving the boy a bit of trouble.
A man buys 50 kilograms of chocolate and eats 43 kilograms, then buys 14 more kilograms but divides them into half and shares a third of them with his friends. What does he have now?
Saitoh's scowl mirrored his son's. What a moronic question. After careful deliberation Tsutomu wrote, "Diabetes". His father heartily approved (and then helped him work out the math problem anyway).
A spelling test with a grade of 89% was discussed (absolutely not acceptable) while an essay on the merits of reinstating corporal punishment that had prompted yet another letter from the school counselor was praised.
Homework done, Saitoh herded his little pack to the bathroom. He'd studied child mortality tables and understood that a parent ought not to leave children unsupervised during this activity, so he sat on the edge of the toilet and watched them splash and bathe, struggling to keep his eyes open.
(How did you do this?) he silently asked the member of his family who'd been missing these last three years. (How did you make it look so effortless?) He'd always assumed his roles and responsibilities outside of the home had been more important and more demanding than the task of being a mere mother.
It took the death of the boy's mother for him to realize how wrong he been.
Slippery like eels, the boys emerged from the bath, laughing as the recounted their battles in the ball pit. Saitoh dried them off, made sure they put on clean underwear (apparently boys were inherently adverse to this sort of thing) watched them brush their teeth and then grabbed a comb and made sure their hair was combed. It would get messed up again as they slept, but this was routine and Saitoh respected and relied on routine to keep the chaos that was raising two children alone at bay.
Speaking of routine…
"I suppose you want a story," Saitoh glowered at the boys, his hands on his hips. He's stood thusly once, when Tsutomu had been in preschool and had been asked to attend parent's day and explain what he did for a living. Three children had wet their pants and five parents had sent letter of complaint the following day. Apparently, his description of a drug intercept had not been appropriate material for show and tell.
Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi nodded seriously.
"And I suppose you want me to be the one who tells it."
More nodding occurred. Saitoh barely suppressed a smile when his youngest mirrored his body position and glowered back at him.
"Yes, Daddy, it's your duty."
"Aa," Saitoh nodded, the matter decided.
He got the boys into their beds, tucked them in and then sat down on the floor between them, wincing slightly as his long legs were finally able to stretch out.
"Once upon a time…" he drawled.
"Daddy," Tsuyoshi said in a chastising tone, "you're saying it all wrong."
Tsutomu nodded, "You have to start it like this," he pursed his lips together a little, looking very sober and sincere. "There once was a soldier,"
"A Samurai Soldier," Tsuyoshi continued, his childish cadence matching his brother's. "With a very sharp sword and a haori of blue."
This was how stories began each evening at the Saitoh household. Yaso had started this tradition, when the boys were very small, and he was nearly always away on assignment. In her wisdom, his wife had begun telling the children stories about their father, so that they might have a chance in hell at relating to him. After she was gone, along with the stories, the laughter and his sanity, the boys had tried telling each other stories of the samurai soldier, desperate to keep some measure of continuity in their lives.
The day he'd realized this, was the day he'd vowed to stop drinking.
"…the samurai had travelled for many miles in search for something to drink that would keep him awake. After slaying a moron who was stealing a cart (in his stories, idiocy was always fatal) the samurai finally came to an old inn. The innkeeper, a red haired menace of a man, would not give the samurai any drink, so the samurai took the drink for himself."
The boys nodded, clearly approving.
"There was a woman also at the inn," Saitoh said, "a grey eyed woman, with hair as black as night. The woman was new to the dangerous land and was traveling without a weapon." He frowned at the memory of realizing that Takagi was unarmed and vulnerable. "And a weapon was needed, for an evil man, a monster who preyed upon her kind, had come into the inn and set his dark sights upon the stranger, intent on doing her harm."
Tsutome and Tsuyoshi were sitting wide eyed as their father spoke. There were some days that the brave samurai didn't seem to have much to do and then there were days like this...when the story was nothing short of breathtaking.
"…the inn was on fire, filling the room with smoke and flames. The samurai shielded the woman with his body, trying to keep her from being hurt by evil men. She was frightened as well she should be, for more bandits had come to the inn, intent on slaying everyone inside it. A man already lay dead, killed honorably in battle…."
The story continued on. Saitoh's voice dropped, a hint of menace adding an authentic degree of realism to the story. "…and it soon was clear that the innkeeper was no mortal man, but a demon, who flew on the wind and brought death to all who whom he deemed to be deserving of it. The samurai knew this demon for he had done battle with it many years before…"
When his father spoke of the Samurai being wounded in battle, Tsutomu's smile faltered a little, face paling as he began listening carefully. He'd seen his father wince when he sat down and unlike his little brother, he suspected that the stories of the brave samurai were not based entirely in fiction. "The monster, roaring with madness, struck down the samurai with a terrible blow, the force enough that the samurai's haori burst into flame. Thrown, he fell to the earth, too wounded to rise, his death seeming certain."
Saitoh stopped when he saw Tsutomu's face. His child was frightened and that would not do. Saitoh admitted that he too, had experienced fear earlier in the day in the split second he had between realizing he was going to be shot, and actually getting hit with the energy bolt. The fear was not of death, but of the knowledge that his children would be well and truly left alone, without the care and protection that only a parent could offer.
"Go ahead," Tsutomu whispered, bravely, "I need to know what happened."
Saitoh nodded, after receiving a similar request from Tsuyoshi.
"The monster advanced upon the fallen samurai, eager to end the man's life. When all seemed lost, the grey eyed woman rose up, wielding the blade that the Samurai had left her. Standing between the samurai and death, she bravely faced down the monster and defeated it, despite great danger to herself. With the monster dead, the woman ran to where the samurai had fallen and bound up his wounds with the fabric of her kimono, lest he die from his wounds."
"And while the woman labored to save the samurai from death, the demon sought out the other monsters who haunted the inn and slaughtered them where they stood." He stifled a yawn and leaned back against the chest of drawers.
"And when the battle was over, then the samurai awoke, brought slowly back from the dark abyss where he'd been cast, he found himself lying in the sheltering arms of the grey eyed woman." Another yawn came…then another.
Saitoh closed his eyes, just for a second. He had paperwork, laundry to finish, a dermal bandage to re wrap. "…and he realized, as he looked at her…that this woman was no stranger, but the daughter of the shogun, a princess he'd known long ago, and had lost…and had…"
Tsutomu exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. In his father's stories there were women, some good, some bad, one was a formidable, grey haired warrior who fought and killed those who were wicked, another was a ferocious guard who kept the samurai's children safe and sound, but in all the stories he'd ever heard there had only been one other princess. She was the princess who had died, and who the samurai had loved and had been so lost and sad and angry without.
"Daddy, what happened next?" Tsuyoshi said eagerly, but to no avail. Their father had finally fallen asleep.
Tsutomu put his finger to his lips, signaling that his brother stay quiet and slid out of bed with enough stealth to put a passel of ninja to shame, and covered his father gingerly with a embroidered duck blanket, then tiptoed over to the wall and turned out the light.