Saitoh Tsutomu, Reporting for Night Duty!

In which a bokken armed wolf cub braves the the things that go bump in the night and has a very interesting discussion with a certain house guest.

Chapter 1

TSUTOMU

(There it is again...)

Tsutomu's amber eyes narrowed in the darkness and being a product of his upbringing, he immediately reached for his sword.

The sword, actually a child sized bokken that his uncle Okita had given him for his last birthday was, hands down, his favorite possession in the world and he practiced with it faithfully, every single day.

(I wonder where he went?) While not a stranger to loss, at least not any more, he mourned the void that his uncle's absence had created, and despite knowing better than to try to even begin to understand the strange ways that adults thought, there were times that Tsutomu wondered if he'd done something wrong to cause the man to no longer want to come and have adventures. (I wonder why?)

He heard the noise again, froze and carefully listened. It seemed to be coming from the living room, which was good (There were no people sleeping there who could be hurt) and bad (Because my father hasn't responded to it yet). That thought gave him pause.

His father was many things, but a light sleeper was not one of them.

(Is he all right?) Tsutomu recalled that his father had been wounded, perhaps more badly than he'd let on. The was frightening, horribly so. Tsutomu swallowed nervously, the naturally over-reactive imagination of a child who had seen far too much loss and violence in his young life went into overdrive.

(I have to check and see what's happening) His father had strict rules about not wandering around the house in the middle of the night. His father had rules about everything. Still, something was wrong, his father wasn't responding, so as the eldest child in the household, it was his responsibility to investigate.

Frightened, clenching his bokken tighter than how Okita and his father had taught him to hold it, Tsutomu crept past his little brother and carefully, carefully, opened the door.

(There it is again) Whatever was making the strange sound, it was coming from the living room.

Trying to be as silent as his uncle was when they played hide and seek, Tsutomu crept down the hall, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor until he was at the entrance of the front room. The sound, a raspy, grating sound, was closer, louder.

Tsutomu swallowed, trying to get his fears under control and moved into the room, unconsciously shifting his hold on the bokken to a proper one and adjusting his stance to a defensive position that his missing uncle and father would have been proud of, had they only seen it.

(It's coming from the couch)

Tsutomu waited, blinking for his vision to get better, then slid forward towards the couch. There was something, someone large and lumpy on it. His heart skipped a beat and he raised the bokken into a position that would allow him to strike down as hard as he could. With the uncle and father he had, he knew exactly where to aim his blow.

(It that Tsuyoshi's duck blanket?)

Tsutomu took another step forward, bravely poking his head around the edge of the couch. There was a big foot sticking out from under the blanket, a very big foot attached to a very long leg which was attached to...

Tsutomu's eyes went wide.

(Otōsan)

The bokken, raised and in strike position slowly lowered.

What was his father doing here? On the couch? Clearly it was too small for him. Baffled, the seven-year-old took a tentative step towards the sleeping man, when the sound, what he now knew to be a soft snore, emanated from his father's slightly opened mouth.

Even in the dark, under a duck blanket, his head at a weird angle that even Tsutomu knew had to be uncomfortable, his father was a scary looking man. Not mean, not unkind (though he could be and once had been) but kind of scary looking.

And yet...

Curious, Tsutomu looked more closely. He'd never seen his father asleep before. Familiar features, that so many people said mirrored his own, were exposed, the profile of his father's sharp chin apparent. In sleep, the face of his father wasn't quite as stern as usual.

For several minutes, Tsutomu said nothing and didn't move a muscle. Instead, he watched his father sleep, watched and listened to the slight inhalations and exhalations. It was so strange, seeing his father like this.

(He looks tired...) Tsutomu realized. He'd never thought about his father being tired before. Being tired was for other people. His father was always working, always so busy, too busy really, especially now that Okita was gone. There was someone else who was also missing, but it hurt too much to think about her, so he didn't (or at least tried not to).

(I wonder what he dreams about?) Did his father, always so serious, dream? Tsutomu did; he often had nightmares. He wondered if his father ever had nightmares. This sort of thinking also hurt, so he put that away as well. He was, after all, his father's son.

After a moment, the threat to the family now identified, Tsutomu turned to leave. A part of him wanted to try and cover his father's foot with the edge of the duck blanket, but he didn't dare risk waking the man. Based on what his auntie said, his father wasn't a morning person, this being the kindest thing he'd ever heard her say about her brother, and technically he supposed it was morning, so perhaps a degree of caution was warranted. His father looked so tired, so he should let him sleep and keep the house safe instead.

Duty clear, Tsutomu quietly made it was out of the front room and back down the hall. It was so important to him that the house was secure, that everyone in the house was safe. Safety was no longer a given in the child's life and hadn't been since he was four.

(Father said that there are people in danger…) He glanced at the door where their house-guest was sleeping. (…that Takagi-san is in danger).

The boy slammed his eyes shut, hating even the idea of the pretty, kind woman being hurt. He knew she was kind because he had seen her actions (and his father had drummed into him that actions always…always, spoke louder than any words could) and because he could remember her being kind…to him and the rest of his family.

A happy memory danced through his mind, as if it was playing hide and seek. Takagi-san was holding him, singing softly. He could hear her heartbeat as he rested against her chest. It was cold in the house, but she was warm and soft and the blanket she'd sewn him was a good one, the prettiest shade of blue.

Takagi-san was cooking, though her clothing was so strange. She was a good cook and loved to make his favorite noodles. In his mind, he watched her smile, laugh.

He was kneeling beside her, Tsuyoshi was with him, so was another little boy as they worked together in a vegetable garden. There was an older boy there too, but he looked different, not like a brother would. The boy was nice. The boy had been his friend.

There were other memories, though he didn't understand how they could be in his head. He could see Takagi-san standing by a door, beside his tall father. In this memory, which was less fleeting and firmer than the rest, his father wore a sword on his side and told Takagi-san that he'd return. In reply she smiled and said that she would be waiting. His father nodded, turned and walked away, never looking back.

Takagi-san closed the door and then leaned against it, closing her eyes, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to silently weep.

"Don't cry, Takagi-san…." Tsutomu whispered raggedly, caught in the tide of memory, his voice cracking. "Don't cry mother." He'd been there to protect her, whenever then was, he was sure of it. (I protected her then…I will protect her now) It was a man's duty, after all.

Determined to keep his watch, Tsutomu sat down by the door to the room where the woman who was both his father's friend from work and his mother from memory was hopefully sleeping.

TOKIO

Yes, she was sure of it. There was a noise. Even though it was a quiet sound it caught her attention and she was now distracted away from her mind-full of musings. The attorney was definitely quite awake.

Back in Meiji 1, when Hajime was home, she slept like the proverbial log. But if he was away at night and she was the one in charge of family safety, even the slightest sound had her on alert. It was strange because the Major was home tonight, albeit sleeping. It could be that she knew that nothing short of an apocalypse would wake him tonight. She must have reverted to 'the boys and I are home alone' instincts she'd honed a couple of centuries ago.

It almost sounded like bare feet sliding across the wooden floor (just like in their Meiji-era dojo), moving past her bedroom door. It definitely came from down the hallway where the boys were supposed to be sleeping soundly. Had the noise come from the other direction, she may have felt more concern than curiosity, as she did now. In the other direction was the living room, kitchen and door to the garage. It could not be an intruder from outside the house. The Major's sophisticated alarm system would have had the whole household out of bed and in an offensive mode.

Tokio waited for a few more minutes, straining her ears, almost holding her breath so as not to miss even a whisper of a sound. There it was again, the same muffled sliding she'd heard before.

"Don't cry, Takagi-san…."

Was that Tsutomu's voice? It was so soft but still understandable. Did he sleep walk in this era? He'd suffered so much emotional trauma for someone so young, having lost his mother to a vicious act and his father, temporarily, to the bottle.

Her heart clenched with sorrow.

"Don't cry mother." '

Oh, merciful heavens! That was Tsutomu! Any mother would recognize the sound of her own child's voice.

She carefully got out of bed, being as quiet as possible, and padded over to the bedroom door, her feet clad in Hajime's wool socks with the red toes.

She cracked the door slightly so she cold peek out. Her voice was barely audible, but she knew he would hear her. He was, after all, the wolf's oldest cub.

"Tsutomu-kun. is that you?"

Of course she knew it was. But she was still going to ask, and ask quietly because there was no way she wanted the Major up and off that couch until he got all the sleep he needed, not that it would ever happen. She really couldn't remember a time when he got all the rest that she thought he should have.

TSUTOMU

"Yes, Takagi-san."

Jumping to his feet, lest she wonder if he took guard duty seriously, the seven year old bowed and then looked up at the visage of the woman...his father's friend...his missing mother...peeking at him through a sliver in the door. His memories swam again, and he blinked, trying to force them into focus.

"I heard a sound this evening, coming from the living room and had to investigate." Whispering quietly, he motioned with his bokken towards the front room. "My father was making the noise. He's asleep on the couch. Under a blanket. With ducks."

He looked at her soberly, sure that she would understand the exceptional magnitude of the situation. "I think that father is very tired and...and...I'm worried that his leg might be worse than he's letting on. Do you think he's all right?"

Starting up at her face, a face that was so new and so familiar he couldn't help but add, "Are you all right?"

TOKIO

Tokio opened the door all the way so they could see each other better, and then returned his bow. He was such a serious young man. She smiled inwardly when she noticed the bokken in his hand. Yes, this was truly Hajime's child.

Ah, so the Major still snored. She wondered why she hadn't heard him, but she had been rather preoccupied with her thoughts. When Hajime did that when they were married, all she needed to do was to very, very gently nudge him so he would roll on his side. That solved the problem every time.

She wanted to thank Tsutomu for being so concerned with household safety that he would investigate a noise he heard. However, at his young age he needed to leave that sort of thing to the adults in the house. But this evening the family's head of security was dead to the world, having even his normal energy reserve totally drained like a dead battery.

"Your father has had a couple of very busy days. Because of that he is more tired than normal. I am sure that you are worried about his leg, but I am confident that it will be fine."

She was sure that it would be fine. It might take a while to heal, but Tsutomu really didn't need to be fretting and worrying about the Major's injuries.

An adult does not reveal anything personal to a child, especially in this case, but she wanted the boy (her son) to have some reassurance about what happened.

"I noticed your father had fallen asleep on the couch, and I didn't want him to get cold. The duck blanket was on the end of the couch and I used it to cover him since I don't know where you keep your extra blankets."

"Are you all right?"

She couldn't help the warm feeling spreading in her chest. This child, as well as Tsuyoshi and Tatsuo, was more precious than words could express.

"Yes, Tsutomu-kun, I am quite fine. I appreciate your concern and you asking how I am"

"You must be tired yourself. Would you like me to walk you to your room?"