Author's Note: I have no idea where this story came from. Unfortunately, it nagged at me until I wrote it, which delayed other writing. Part of the inspiration came from a submission to Saichifest 2019 (see the tag on tumblr, author nospringonions), although that fanfic had a cleaner feel to it (not to mention a beginning, middle, and end).
This is one of my very few non-Shinsengumi-era stories, and is actually set in a modern Japan AU that has a slightly darker feel to it than something like SSL. Partial inspiration for the feel—and Saito's motorbike—go to kurokyoria.
As a final note, the entire second half of the story is more or less about sex. (shrugs)
~ Imp
PS Thank you so very much to my readers for your words of encouragement, and for putting up with yet another delay to Teachings of Demons - the new chapter is partly written!
Dangerous Connections
"I found you a tutor, Hajime-kun!"
Saitō eyed his friend warily. That particular grin always made him nervous.
"Tanaka-sensei said that she would find somebody appropriate, Sōji. There's no need—"
"Tanaka-sensei has already approved my suggestion." Okita's smirk became even more pronounced. "She agreed that it made sense to get somebody who knew the club, and wouldn't mind working around your weird schedule. Besides, it turns out that Chizuru-chan was already on her list of candidates."
Saitō felt himself tense. "Yukimura? Sōji—that's—I don't think that's a good idea at all."
Okita laughed. "Worried you won't be able to concentrate? On the bright side, you won't want to embarrass yourself, right? I figure you'll be speaking and writing English like a pro in no time!" He punched Saitō lightly on the arm—lightly for Sōji, at least.
"There must be other—"
"Get a grip, Saitō! Your family said you had to pass your English competency exam, or quit the team." Okita's expression darkened. "And this year we're going to win the championship, so don't you dare let them force you to quit!"
"I don't intend to!" replied Saitō with rare heat. "You shouldn't have gotten involved in this."
"Oi, what's with you? I thought you'd be pleased. I'm pretty sure you've had a thing for Chizuru-chan for ages—and didn't you mention that your dad wanted you to find a suitable girlfriend? I mean, you're twenty now, and graduating uni in a couple of years, and—"
"Stay. Out. Of. This." Saitō turned on his heel and stalked off, shoulders rigid.
Okita was so surprised that he watched him go.
"Well that was weird—what the hell did you say to him?"
"Nothing he wanted to hear, apparently." It wasn't Heisuke's fault that Saitō was behaving like he had a poker up his butt, but Okita had to suppress an instinctive desire to lash out at the younger man. He didn't handle rejection well—he knew it, but that didn't make him any happier right now.
"Anything I can do to help?" Fortunately, Heisuke was reading the room for once, and didn't demand an immediate explanation. Okita grimaced inwardly. Heisuke was a good guy, and he'd matured a lot in the last couple of years—they all had, supposedly.
"Doubt it. Not unless you're in the mood to torture Hajime-kun for personal information?"
Heisuke stared at him, then waved his hands in an emphatic denial. "First of all, torture really isn't my thing. Second, I wasn't planning to die today."
"You saying I can't take Saitō?"
"MMMMFFFF." Heisuke pantomimed locking up his lips and throwing away the key. Then he ruined it by adding, "Who knows? Not me." He grinned at Okita. "I knows nuffin' guv'nah!"
"What the hell was that? As if your English isn't bad enough to begin with."
"Better'n yours and Saitō's, I hear."
Okita grimaced, then shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, but Saitō's dad says he either passes the next time, or he's out of the kendo club—national championship or not. The guy's a hardass, too—if he says it, he means it. But we need that championship if we're going to get funding to go international." He scowled.
"Makes me glad I'm not the heir—or even runner-up heir—to some fancy corporation, for once. My dad just wants me to take his guilt money and lead my own life."
"Yeah, yeah. There are worse things, you know?"
"So I'm told." Heisuke bit back a snide rejoinder—Souji was always grouchy when it came to families. Besides, it reminded him what he'd come to say in the first place.
"I don't know if it's related, but I have some news for you. Bad news, and I wish Shinpat had found you first, to be honest. Assuming he didn't avoid you on purpose."
Okita gestured for him to continue, though he was still staring in the direction that Saitō had… gone.
"You know that pharmaceutical company that's been in the news so much recently?"
"No." Then Okita reconsidered. "Wait—yes. Hijikata was ranting about it yesterday, I think. Kondō-san kept having to calm him down—not that there's anything new in that."
"Well, turns out they were into some seriously illegal shit, and even had some kind of stolen army biotech they were working on."
"So?"
"It was owned by Chizuru-chan's dad. In fact, her brother was the manager, at least on paper."
That got Okita's full attention.
"Well, shit."
"Anyway, nobody knows if they were set up, or who leaked the info to the cops—or the press—and so far it's hard to say who in the family knew all the details."
"There is no way Chizuru-chan knew about it, or was involved," Okita snapped.
"Yeah, we know that. But for now, the family, and everyone close to the family, is a suspect. And it gets worse."
"How?" Okita was already trying to sort out the kind of impact this could have on the club. Chizuru was close friends with all of them, and she acted as a kind of book-keeper and general secretary.
"Chizuru's dad made a substantial donation to the club, back when Chizuru started university. That's kind of why we got stuck with her in the first place, remember—not that I minded."
Okita remembered. "Fuck. FUCK!"
"Right? A club like ours—any sports club that wants to compete at the national level and beyond—can't be associated with illegal drugs. And these ones involve army tech, so..."
"Why the hell didn't Hijikata explain this to me yesterday?!" demanded Okita.
Wisely, Heisuke didn't point out that Sōji probably hadn't been listening. Sometimes things were okay between those two, other times they weren't—as in, really weren't. At times like this, he envied Hajime-kun for not living with the rest of them.
Okita glared at Heisuke for not answering his question. "Fine. Where's Chizuru-chan?"
"We don't know."
"What?! How is that even possible? She lives with us, for crying out loud!"
Heisuke took a half-step back, mentally cursing Shinpachi for setting him up to be the bearer of ill tidings. Sōji tended to hit first, ask questions later—well, not so much now, but still. Normally, they sent Sano-san to do stuff like this, but Sano was out of town for the week.
"We think she's either been taken away by her dad, or kidnapped by those Kazama thugs." Heisuke had to lean in to whisper the words, and Okita took the opportunity to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.
"Then what the hell are we doing just talking about it?! Why are we here at school instead of out looking for her?"
"I'm not gonna talk if you keep doing that!"
"Fine. Screw English class, I'm out of here. And I'm really pissed at Hajime-kun for not telling me all this earlier—he must have known."
"Our job is to go to school. Keep up appearances."
"Thank you for that, Hijikata-mommy-san. Sure, I'll do that." Without another word, Okita spun away from Heisuke, and ran for the main entrance.
Heisuke hesitated, then flung up his hands with a groan and sprinted off after him. Nobody was going to be happy when Sōji encountered the ladies and gentlemen of the press. And it wasn't Heisuke's fault that they'd trailed him here after Hijikata-san had slammed the house door in their faces.
Saitō's bike was expensive, but not showy, and it was a lot less noisy than most. That being said, he hadn't taken quite as much care as usual when he'd taken off from school after running into Sōji. Fortunately, he couldn't sense anyone watching as he methodically stowed the bike, and hurried through the parking lot door of his non-descript apartment building. On the face of it, he was just another young guy who'd probably forgotten something he needed for work or school. He'd done a good job of being anonymous here for two years; there was no reason to mess that up now.
He'd originally hoped to throw people off the scent by showing up for class as usual, but he just wasn't calm enough to pull it off. No matter how hard he tried, he still lacked the detachment and control of his father and grandfather—as they often pointed out. And ugh. Sōji had meant it for the best, but Saitō had hoped to avoid anything that might link him to Chizuru except as a member of the club's championship kendo team. The Kazama had top notch intelligence gatherers.
He made himself take the elevator up to his floor—which wasn't the penthouse, since that was just too obvious for the scion of a wealthy corporate empire. At least he wasn't the heir, thank all the gods. He unlocked the door to his apartment, and then carefully locked and bolted it behind him once inside.
"Hajime-san?"
And there she was, waiting for him. His heart-beat picked up at the thought.
"Chizuru…" It was still a delight to use her unadorned first name, and to hear his own name on her lips. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't seem to help it, or to suppress the inappropriate—very warm—images that caused at least part of the blush.
Without warning—except that he was trained to read an opponent's slightest movement—Chizuru threw her arms around him, and buried her head against his shoulder. He tried not to react to her sudden proximity, but his hormones had other ideas. She was obviously frightened, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to gently lift her face to his, and kiss her. Not that they hadn't kissed before, but it was still so new to him—to them both—that he was immediately swept up in it, and didn't notice the passage of time until he realized that he had her pressed tightly against the hallway wall, one hand in her hair, and the other stroking the soft skin of her back under her blouse.
When he tried to draw away, Chizuru clung to him, her lips nuzzling his neck. He could tell that she was embarrassed, but also determined to keep him close. If only he were better at rational thought when they were together like this! Then he could comfort her properly, while still being aware of his surroundings, and considering what to do next.
"Chizuru, we need to plan." She couldn't stay hidden with him indefinitely—though part of him wished she would—but the alternatives weren't clear. "I think it's going to get more difficult after today…" Not so much because of Sōji blatantly throwing them together, but because the press was out there now, and hungry for details. The Kazama family wouldn't miss the opportunity to seize Chizuru if they could find her, and he suspected that Kōdō was finally scared enough to accept the Yukimura-Kazama merger, and hand her over to them to seal the bargain.
Saito made another effort to put some distance between them, but thinking about Chizuru engaged to Kazama Chikage made him want to do anything other than let go. In fact, he wanted very much to forget about everything other than finding out how best to please his beloved—if still secret—girlfriend. His mouth dipped down to the tip of her closest ear, and he began to trace the outer edge with his tongue, which elicited an intoxicating, shivery kind of gasp from Chizuru. He felt his pelvic muscles contract in response, and blood rush down to harden him into full arousal. Without another thought, he pressed a hard kiss—almost a bite—into the side of Chizuru's neck, making sure that his teeth would leave marks.
"Hajime…" Chizuru's voice was a little rougher than usual, and her breathing had quickened. He tightened his hand in her hair, and forced her head up to look at him, so that he could admire the scarlet that now bloomed high on her cheeks, and the way her eyes seemed to glow as she warmed into passion. When he brought his mouth to hers, abandoning her ear and neck, and biting gently on her lower lip, she made another half-muffled sound of pleasure, but louder and more distinct this time. He found himself trapping her even more tightly between his body and the wall, and grinding himself against her, while his tongue parted her willing lips and began to explore her mouth, eventually so deeply that it felt like a flagrant expression of what he wanted to do with the rest of her body.
As if in response to that thought, he felt Chizuru's hands tug the tail of his shirt free of his jeans, so that she could caress his bare skin in the same way that he was touching hers. His father wouldn't be very impressed at how easily distracted he was, he knew, but something rebelled in him at the thought. His friends and colleagues pushed him to be more open; his father and grandfather demanded perfect stoicism. Only Chizuru let him be entirely himself—she didn't mind his silences, she trusted him to listen when she wanted to talk, and she never seemed troubled by his awkwardness. He was utterly in love with her.
Still kissing, they undressed each other, fumbling at buttons, and even occasionally snarling at layers that wouldn't cooperate with their need to be skin-to-skin. Saitō retained enough sanity to lift Chizuru into his arms and carry her to his small bedroom, which was surely a more private and appropriate place to communicate such desires. Not until he laid her down on his bed—hair loose, clothing wildly askew, love-bite darkening on her neck—did he fully process what they were doing, and freeze, appalled by how far he'd let things go. He immediately sat back, still straddling her hips, and forced his greedy hands away from her skin.
To his surprise, Chizuru smiled up at him, and reached out to run her own hand down across the muscles of his stomach to rest lightly on the tight bulge still constrained by his lower fly and boxer-briefs. The button to his jeans was already undone, although it had taken her some minutes to achieve this, earlier. He still wasn't sure whether the button had actually been difficult, or if she'd just been distracted by his lips on her skin, and on the thin material of her lacy bra. Her nipples had hardened intriguingly under the ministrations of his stroking, pinching fingers, and then tongue and teeth.
He stared down at her now, breathless and dry-mouthed with desire, blood pounding in his ears, but desperate not to injure her in any way. Her thumb rubbed gently, but attentively, at the head of his erection, and he flinched inwardly at the combination of the exciting, pleasurable sensation, and the vulnerable, loving, determined expression on her lovely face. It might feel wonderful, but it wasn't right—not when there was fear and sadness lurking behind her passion.
"Chizuru," he whispered, barely able to resist leaning forward into her touch, while forcing himself to keep his hands curled on his thighs, rather than caressing her breasts, or busy with the pale blue panties that lay visible below her loose, rumpled skirt.
"I want this, Hajime. You love me, you believe in me, and I want you to be the first, since I don't know what the future has in store for either of us."
"We'll stay together no matter what, I promise, if that's what you want. But don't—Chizuru, those are the wrong reasons—you must know that!" He hoped that his voice betrayed neither the effort it cost to be rational, nor his hurt at her lack of confidence. In him, in them, he wasn't sure which.
He read stubbornness—and true longing—in her eyes, and the set of her lips. She wasn't going to back down, not when she believed in what she was saying.
"Your father won't want an alliance with a disgraced family, we both know that. And the Kazama want me so that I can produce an heir to both families, Kazama and Yukimura, now that their victory is certain. A marriage, an heir—that will bring everyone into line, and keep our noble blood pure." The last word was low and bitter. "Are you going to subject your family, and your friends, and all their dreams, to the inevitable retaliation? They—the Kazama—can be brutal, you know."
"My family can look after itself," he told her forcefully, trying and failing to ignore her insistent caresses. He shifted a little, then caught her wrists, pushing her down into the bed. "Don't offer yourself to me on such terms. I'll refuse." He wasn't sure he could, but he'd do his best.
Chizuru stared at him, clearly frustrated in every way, but also, maybe, a little hopeful. Or was he imagining it, because he wanted her so much, and needed her to want him back out of love and passion, not despair—or as part of some ridiculous, fatalistic goodbye.
"Hajime? I don't want you to get hurt. I love you. That's the only reason I would ever go to them—"
"I know, but this—" He swallowed, unable to do what he should, and just get up, and get his mind back on prioritizing her safety, and—and so on. Why couldn't things be simple? Why did he always think too much?! He could practically feel Sōji's eyes mocking him for his indecision.
"I'm sorry," Chizuru whispered into the silence. "I was being selfish—to want this time with you. This is my fault—"
"Dammit—no!" He let go of her wrists and curved his hands around her cheeks to cradle her head. "Just… just don't go there." He bent down to kiss her fiercely on the lips, and was surprised to discover that his control was still pitifully weak. Desire reignited as he registered the heat of her skin against his bare chest, and felt her lips part beneath his. He heard her breath hitch—just as it had earlier—and then her arms tightened around him, pulling him fully against her, so that he barely had time to brace one forearm to avoid falling.
"I won't give up—"
"I won't let you go."
With little grace, but also no pointless self-consciousness, he freed them both from their remaining clothes, and gave himself over to kissing and teasing and caressing his beloved's body into heated, extravagant arousal. Inexperience didn't mean lack of imagination, and he'd imagined making love to her so many times before, often to his own chagrin. He kissed and tasted and left marks on her skin, and suckled her breasts, and ran strong, demanding hands along her sides and over her hips and belly and around her smooth backside. And he thanked her, in fervent, heartfelt whispers, for letting him hear her cries of passion, and for sharing her wonderful, sweet body with him.
Her scent was intoxicating—he hadn't realized how much it would affect him. When his explorations finally reached the damp, sensitive folds of skin at her centre, and his fingers started to learn the contours of her most private places, her soft cries became whimpers, and he saw her biting her lower lip so hard that he thought it might bleed.
"Chizuru…" He almost stilled his hand, worried for the first time that he'd somehow hurt her, in his ignorance, but when his fingers slowed, and he lifted his lips from the hard nub of one breast, her expression plainly begged him not to stop, and he felt her hips jerk so as to press her mound more firmly against his hand. Only a little while later, he found himself sliding his fingers within her, both elated and a little shocked by how much he wanted to do such things. His body was beginning to quiver with need and anticipation of release, and he knew that she could feel his hard length pressed tightly against her thigh, and perhaps even the slightly sticky fluid that had started to pool on her skin. Without conscious thought, he pressed his fingers deeper within her, and felt inner muscles tremble and contract against them. Abruptly, he wasn't sure how he was going to manage to hold back any longer. He pulled away from her uncertainly, aware that he'd become completely focussed on sensation.
"Hajime…" She said his name like a plea, and lust jolted through him.
"Chizuru, I… I…" He swallowed, so deep in desire that he couldn't form a proper question. When she reached out and pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him passionately, his whole body twitched involuntarily, and he clung to her, feeling his climax starting to build out of control. He could only hope—though he was moderately optimistic—that he'd made his lover feel the same way.
He was incredibly grateful when Chizuru shifted her hips, and awkwardly, but without hesitation, helped guide him to her entrance. He took that as permission to finally surrender his thread-bare self-command and join with her, and a soft groan escaped his lips as he thrust into her, his hands moving to grip her hips as he rocked hard against her once, and then withdrew a short space before burying himself deep into her once more, savouring the way her tight, slick walls clenched and pulsed around his shaft. She was very wet, and she smelled of arousal and sex, and a strong wave of possessiveness swept over him along with the desperate yearning of near-orgasm. Unable to stop, he thrust into her again and again, listening to her moan, and feeling her writhe beneath him. Somewhere in the haze of adrenaline and pleasure, he promised himself to do more for her next time, since this time he seemed to lack the ability to do much more than ride a dizzying wave of physical sensation until he was coming hard and fast inside her, his seed spilling hot within her welcoming body.
They lay together for some time afterwards, without speaking, their bodies still joined, their skin sticky with sweat and still sensitive to the other's touch. Saitō was conscious that he had left numerous bruises and marks on Chizuru—some light, some deep—and he was embarrassed that he didn't fully recollect being so rough. It had also occurred to him, too late, that he probably hadn't been careful enough or gentle enough, given that it was her first time. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be able to think clearly enough to express his concern just yet. He suspected he was smiling, and was a little worried that he looked smug.
Chizuru, on the other hand, looked… happy. More than happy. For some reason that Saitō couldn't fathom, she was gazing lovingly up at him through dreamy, half-closed eyes, and showed no inclination to have him move from where he lay. The only problem was that he felt a distinct inclination to make love to her again, but wasn't sure whether that would be either appropriate, or welcome. He'd never been entirely sure what women really thought about sex, having never had the opportunity—or courage—to ask. But… she really did look happy. And beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Although that didn't necessarily reflect how she felt.
"Thank you," he said, at last. It didn't begin to convey how he felt, but it was a start.
"Oh…" Chizuru looked startled, but then relaxed again and grinned at him. "You're welcome—I mean, thank you, too."
There was a lot going on, back in the real world. And somebody was going to track them down, probably either Sōji, or Hijikata-san, and probably sooner rather than later. Saitō tightened his arms around Chizuru.
"Remember, you promised."
"I know. No giving myself up just to protect everyone I care about—and especially you—from the anger of the most powerful family in the country."
He blinked. "Somehow you make it sound like I'm being selfish." Then, before it could even begin to turn into another disagreement, he added. "But even if I am—yes, that is correct. Also, to quote something either Sano-san, or Shinpachi, said one time: have a little faith, okay?"
Chizuru looked up at him with an unusually roguish smile.
"I have faith in your endurance…"
Saitō felt his eyes widen in surprise, and then Chizuru suddenly looked away, red suffusing her cheeks. Gently, he turned her face back toward his, and kissed her forehead.
"I'm sorry if I was too rough—I really am. I don't know what was wrong with me. But I'd be very happy to let you test my endurance, if you want to."
And if Sōji, Hijikata-san, or anyone else needed him in the next hour or two, then that was just too bad. Chizuru's well-being, and her good opinion of him, were far more important than a national championship, a potential rift with his father, or the threats of a family with distinctly dangerous business practices.
[END]
A/Note: I also realized part-way through editing this (a rather rushed job, I'm afraid), that the background for this Saito is slightly based on that of the Saito found in an entirely different otome game. Huh.
