At this point in her life, Iku Kasahara had every reason to take pride in her hard work and accomplishments. When it came to physical activity, she was in top form, and was even starting to excel in regular librarian duties thanks to her dedication. She was making less mistakes by the day, even if the task force guys still liked to joke about her rookie mistakes from years past. Shibasaki had once described the general feeling as "aww, you were kind of cute back when you were dumber", in a poor analogy to parenthood, which vexed Iku to no end. However, she supposed she deserved it, in a somewhat roundabout way. She had done the same thing to Dojo for years without realizing it.
Nevertheless, with her work performance and personal life improving as steadily as they were, Iku was justified to have boundless self-confidence. And for the most part, she did. Still, try as she might, there were some facets of herself that she just couldn't bring herself to be proud of.
As she stepped into their shared apartment, breathing in the warm, dinner-scented air, she immediately began to relax. Coming home after work to Atsushi cooking dinner was a regular thing now, and it sent a warmth and familiarity spreading through her work-weary body every time. She smiled softly to herself, relishing in the feeling as she toed her shoes off and headed down the hallway.
"I'm ho~ome!" she singsonged, coming into their small kitchen to see what was cooking. Atsushi turned and welcomed her back with a smile that mirrored her own before refocusing on preparing dinner to go in the oven. "Smells good!" She made her way towards the bedroom, undoing her work shirt to change into comfortable clothes. As she shuffled through her drawers looking for a pair of sweatpants, Atsushi appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"What kept you at work so long?" he asked conversationally, watching her rummage around.
"Just extra work to get done," she sighed, head buried in the drawer. "There were so many interlibrary loans to go through today. It gets even more complicated with the libraries that don't use the same kind of database as us, y'know?" She lifted her head to look at him. "Why is that? It just ends up being a pain in the ass for everyone."
Atsushi shrugged a little. "They get used to using one database and then don't want to change it. It would involve installing new software onto all of their terminals and reteaching their entire staff how to use it. Since we know how to work around it, they figure it's easier this way." She found the clothes she was looking for and pulled them out, shrugging out of her shirt.
"That's ridiculous… it just causes more disparities between the libraries…" She paused with her lounge shirt halfway on and looked down at it thoughtfully. It was an old gray shirt with an icon of a few books on it, the text across the top advertising some book club she'd been a part of years ago. The images on the front were very light and faded; Atsushi had only seen the shirt a handful of times, but could tell from a glance just how worn it was. "I should probably get rid of this shirt. It's a little too big and getting all worn out. I should make more room in my drawer for less raggedy things…"
Atsushi tilted his head in amusement, noticing immediately how reluctant she was to get rid of the old thing. "You don't have to. It's cute."
Iku froze. Even though they'd been together for a few years, Atsushi still didn't verbally compliment her very often. She knew it was just how he was, so she didn't pressure him into it. Plus, with Atsushi, actions always spoke louder than words.
In any case, it wasn't like he'd never called her cute before, but in the past she'd always been too overwhelmed and embarrassed to protest (or even come up with any sort of response, really). Maybe it was all her years of being not-so-subtly compared to her beautiful roommate Shibasaki, or her whole childhood spent thinking she wasn't pretty and girly enough for her mother's love that made it hard to believe when anybody genuinely complimented her appearance. She was pleased, of course, but a part of her still wasn't convinced, even coming from the person she trusted most in the world. She let out a short laugh to try and cover up her nervousness.
"Thanks, but…" she pulled her sweatpants on, deliberately not looking at him. "I guess I'll settle for 'average'." She tried to sound upbeat, or at least normal, but her voice came out quieter than she'd intended. Aw man, I sound like a kicked puppy! Frantically, she racked her brain for a subject change, and was too preoccupied to notice Atsushi cross the room until she felt his arms encircle her waist from behind.
"That's not…" he mumbled into her shirt, trailing off. He lifted his head and put his chin on her shoulder. "Is that bothering you?"
She was about to play it off, but managed to stop herself. Atsushi was weirdly perceptive about these kinds of things, and besides that, he was now her husband. Not only would he know right away if she was lying, but she shouldn't lie to him in the first place. She laced her fingers together and studied them, feeling heat rush to her face. "...a little. Sometimes I think, 'what if I could be as beautiful as Shibasaki?' It's pretty trivial," more anxious laughter escaped her, "It's so trivial. But sometimes I'm jealous of how soft other women are."
She waited through a beat of agonizing silence. Just as she was about to insist that he not worry about her silly insecurities, his arms tightened around her and lifted, taking her feet completely off the ground. "Hold it- what the hell are you doing!?" Iku shrieked, flailing as he turned and carried her a few feet to their bed. He deposited her on the ground right in front of it and she immediately turned to face him. "Wha- what was that-?" Still without a word of explanation, Atsushi wrapped his arms around her and tilted forward so they both fell onto the bed.
The air rushed out of Iku at the impact of Atsushi's weight landing on her. With his feet still planted on the ground, he lifted his upper body onto his elbows and gazed down at Iku. Off-guard and bewildered, she stared wordlessly back, taking in his impossibly tender smile and the gentle look his sharp eyes had softened into. She finally noticed that his face was a little red, too, and forgot to breathe for a second.
"Iku…" he began, softly. "Just because you don't look like Shibasaki doesn't mean you're not soft." Iku stared into his eyes and focused on holding back the prickling at the corners of her own as he slowly, reverently lifted a hand to her face. Suddenly, he pinched her cheek and pulled a little. "Just as long as you don't eat chocolate late at night." She whined in annoyance, turning her face to pull out of his grasp. She giggled nervously again and smacked his shoulder in reproach.
"Hey, come on! That's not what I meant…" she pouted, directing her gaze to the wall beside them. Atsushi leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to her offended cheek.
"But it's true. You really are adorable, with your red face and all," Atsushi replied simply. Iku turned her stare back to his indignantly.
"Well you too; your face is all red," she shot back, unwilling to lose this battle. He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking chagrined for a moment. He recovered quickly, regaining his previous playful expression, even if his cheeks were a little darker.
"Then we're on the same page," he stated, closing the argument diplomatically. "If you're saying you regret joining the library force and becoming a seasoned soldier, I'll knock you down a peg right now. That's a matter of pride for the demon instructor who trained you to be that way," he continued, leveling her with an exaggeratedly stern look. She was shaking her head fervently before he'd even finished his assertion, blurting out a frantic "No, no, of course not!" Then, she stilled, looking up at Atsushi flatly.
"But it wouldn't have killed that demon instructor to have been less partial about it," she deadpanned, and was rewarded with a pinched nose. She burst out laughing, genuinely this time as she struggled to free her nose from his thumb and forefinger. Atsushi was grinning too as her laughter died down, leaving a comfortable warmth in her chest where it had previously tightened with nerves. "I just," she started, broaching the subject again with a little less trepidation but still sliding her eyes away from his, "I've just never been confident about my appearance. I mean, I'm a 170 centimeter giantess who beats people up for a living. Sometimes when people say that I look cute or stuff like that… it just feels like I'm being made fun of." Her smile was now small and melancholy, and she continued to examine the wall next to them. He recognized those words from the time they'd busted a pervert for harassing library patrons, and wondered how often she'd thought them to herself over the years. He felt a pang of heartache for the endearing, diffident woman beneath him.
Atsushi exhaled slowly, trying to decide on the right words of comfort during the silence that stretched between them. He watched his breath ruffle her short hair lightly, studying her profile and counting her breaths. He wanted to say, "Nobody's making fun of you", but knew he wouldn't be able to convince her of that. At least, not in one night. So he decided on the simple facts. He leaned down again and she turned her head to face him so he could press his forehead against hers. "I love you." She looked taken aback, which equal parts amused and annoyed Atsushi- is that really so surprising?- but he continued. "You don't dispute that?" Iku couldn't move her head, so she replied with a meek "no…" He looked satisfied with that response. "And our associates do too. That's what's important." A mischievous thought occurred to him. "In fact…" He leaned off of her, braced his weight on one elbow, and reached the other hand back, running it along her thigh to her knee. "As far as appearance, I hear there are people who have a thing for your legs."
Iku squirmed uncomfortably, remembering Shibasaki telling her something similar. She had neither confirmed nor wanted to confirm if that was true or just some sort of running joke. "Jeez, I don't even want to think about that," she complained. He laughed, and then leaned his weight back onto her to bury his face in the sheets beside her head.
"Me neither."
They laid like that for a moment, quietly listening to the other's heartbeat. Eventually, Atsushi turned his head towards her, his nose catching on the back of her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, Iku could see that his countenance wasn't playful anymore, but somewhere between impish and serious. With a jolt of heat to the pit of her stomach, she realized it was the kind of intense expression he wore when he was feeling particularly intimate. "Hey," he murmured, and his low voice close to her ear and hot breath against her neck sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. She hummed quietly in affirmation, hyperaware of the feeling of his torso pressed against hers, shifting minutely. "Do you-"
A shrill beeping noise pierced the air and shattered the scene, startling Iku badly. She swallowed a gasp of surprise, and Atsushi straightened up to a stand, looking in the direction of the interruption; the kitchen. "That's dinner." He looked down at her, offering a hand to help her up. "Let's go eat."
Iku frowned up at him, one hand over her racing heart. Just how the hell did he recover from that so quickly? He looked completely unaffected, his straight face returned to it's normal color as though they hadn't just been locked in a heated embrace. She took his hand anyway and allowed him to help her up, not bothering to conceal her confused irritation. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he turned away to lead her into the kitchen. "We'll continue this later," he assured her belatedly. She pouted at his back, mentally cursing the disruption, but the smell of dinner wafting out from the kitchen derailed her train of thought before she could formulate a response.
In the end, it was true that Atsushi couldn't simply talk Iku into taking pride in her appearance. Her insecurity was the product of over 20 years of first living with a stingy mother, and then being constantly likened to her conventionally beautiful roommate, the "flower of the force" herself- the remedy was going to take a little more time than a few compliments could spare. Well. Good thing time was certainly something the two of them had, and Atsushi was determined to make the most of it.
A/N: I work at my university's library, so all that junk in the beginning about interlibrary loans and databases wasn't just library-sounding terms I pulled out of my ass, I swear! There are other university libraries that use different systems, so when somebody reserves an interlibrary loan we have to use a whole different system to check it out, and they all work so differently it's just a huge pain in the ass, like Iku said... and I'm sure even more so for the actual staff, since I'm just a student worker. 'Course, I don't know if Japan libraries work the same way, but I'm just writing what I know. Take it as you will.
Speaking of confidence, I'm not particularly confident with this fic, so I apologize for a potential lapse in quality? I've been fooling around with it for a few days so I just need to get it posted and move on. I like to think that after a few years of marriage Dojo is generally a super sweet guy when he's alone with Iku instead of putting on his demon-instructor face all the time. I hope it doesn't seem too out of character... bear in mind, this is a few years after the series as we know it!