Author's Note: Finally writing again after another unexpected hiatus due to Life (sheesh, enough already!).

Frost

Autumn came much earlier to Tonami, home to the displaced Aizu clan, than it did to Kyoto or Edo. No, not Edo; Tokyo. Saitō still had to quell a flicker of resentment over the change in name, but there was no sense in dwelling on the past. It was only reasonable—well, understandable—that the new government would seek to eradicate as many traces of Tokugawa rule as possible, and Edo-Tokyo was perhaps the most enduring testament to Tokugawa Ieyasu's ambition and foresight. Since they couldn't get rid of what was now Japan's largest city, changing its name was their best option.

Saitō sighed inwardly. Even contemplating the changing of the seasons brought him back to recent history, and losses that were still painful. He tried to clear his mind once more and return to his meditation. Almost immediately, his good intentions were thwarted by the sound of light footfalls and the rustle of dry leaves. A reluctant smile, more a quirk of the lip, touched his mouth: either Chizuru had noticed the shift in his mood—somehow—or she had suddenly decided to come out to see him at just that moment by complete coincidence. Such coincidences had become a part of the shape of his life in the months they had been living together.

He turned his head a little to look at her, and to acknowledge her presence. She hadn't changed much in appearance, he thought; it was most likely imagination that suggested she was even thinner now than when they'd arrived. He felt guilty for bringing her to this desolate place, as useless as that sentiment was, and it clouded his judgment. It was frustrating that he allowed emotion to rule his thoughts like this since his release from internment at the end of the war.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Saitō-san—"

"Hajime."

"Oh! I keep forgetting… I mean, Hajime-san." She pronounced the syllables of his first name with special emphasis, and then smiled shyly. He smiled in return, feeling the usual twin rush of satisfaction with her and dissatisfaction with himself for allowing his emotions such free rein.

"Is there a problem?"

"Ah, well, it will be getting dark soon, and it's not very warm out today already, so I thought maybe you'd like to come in and have some tea?" She squared her shoulders, and continued, "It's really too cold for sitting on the ground you know, H-Hajime-san."

"Hmm." She was right of course. The air didn't yet smell of snow, but tonight they would have frost.

"Or perhaps I should fetch water so that I can start heating a bath—"

"No—I mean, it isn't necessary for you to fetch the water. I'll get it." The full bucket was heavy, and awkward for her to carry from the well they shared with their closest neighbours. But that wouldn't stop her, once she'd made up her mind that he needed a hot bath.

"Okay! Thank you, Hajime-san."

"Chizuru… You do not need to thank me for fetching us water." He couldn't help the amusement he felt creep into his tone. "Especially not when it is water for my own bath."

"Ah—"

"Although of course you are welcome to bathe first, if you wish." Saitō kept a perfectly straight face, and waited for the inevitable reaction to such a shocking breach of custom (not to mention Chizuru's manifest personal inclination).

"Oh no, Saitō-san! I could never do that!" Sure enough, his beloved—his wife—was appalled. But after only a moment she returned, undeterred, to her purpose. "So you'll go fetch water now, then? And drink some tea while I heat your bath?"

Helpless before such determined care, Saitō rose from seiza, and pressed a light kiss to Chizuru's forehead. That wasn't quite enough to convey his gratitude, so he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest. He ignored her faint—very faint—protest of embarrassment.

"Yes, dear one. I will fetch water now, and then we will have tea while it heats." He'd endured so much worse than sitting for an hour on cold ground in the past—days and weeks of sleeping injured and without shelter during the war in Aizu—but he knew that she knew this, and understood that it was why she was determined to spoil him (his word, not hers, of course).

"…Well, good then. … I mean, thank you for fetching the water." Her words were muffled by his kimono, but neither of them moved to break the embrace right away.

There would be frost on the ground tonight, but Saitō knew that he wouldn't feel it in either his body or his heart. Chizuru was a surprisingly stubborn woman, and she had appointed herself his guardian in these matters. He would be able to grieve his losses in his own time, and in his own way, and she would make sure that he stayed warm.

[END]