Author's note: Thank you to the people who reviewed! It was really nice to all of you to bear with the mushiness of the story and the OOCness, and it encouraged me to post another. Mara: Coming from you it's a great compliment, as you write the best S/T fics. Thanks! Crystal: I pay attention to the spaces now. It was my first post. Jadegoddess: Here's the second one. Still sweet. LeilaWinters: I'm glad you liked this sentence! I feel myself like a romantic moron writing this fic.
Well, I'm afraid this one is in the same style: light, optimistic romance. Same warnings as chapter one. Please don't flame me!
Saitoh's secret gardens. Story 2: Changes
January 1876-Tokyo
Tokio felt her heart leap as she heard the sound of his paces on the gravel. She always had to prevent herself from running to him. He didn't like obvious manifestations of feelings. Not because he had none, but it was just not in his temper. She didn't want him to feel compel to answer in the same way. She tried to picture them running to each other like lovebirds, and laughed out loud at the idea. Well, not that she would be able to run lately, anyway. She was near her term and her body was.huge. She wanted to rise from the armchair to welcome him, but she needed a little time to do that.
She heard the main door opening, and few seconds later he was in the living room. Only then he said: "I'm home". He didn't use endearments, but was thoughtful when it came to her. Better at actions than at words, as always.Relieved she didn't have to stand up, she greeted him with a lazy smile: "Welcome back". He walked to her and leaned to give her a long kiss.
"Dinner is ready, I'm going to." As she made an effort to lift her heavy body, he pressed lightly on her shoulder.
"I'll go myself later"
He sat on the other armchair. In this house, only the bedrooms and the bathroom were Japanese style. The living room and the kitchen were western style. She had to use all her persuasion to get his agreement on this one. He was so stubbornly traditional he was driving her crazy sometimes. She was more practical, and in fact she didn't care that much about the house itself. She had fallen in love instantly with the big, beautiful garden. She loved gardens. As the general aspect of the house was still traditional(more or less, he had grumped after she pointed the fact to him)he finally gave in. Thank God. Since her last trimester had begun, she was thankful she didn't have to sit on the floor but on the comfortable armchairs. Spending the cold winters by the fire was quite pleasant too.
She enjoyed the moment. It was so intimate, so normal. Oddly, she wasn't really used to this yet. Hajime lit a cigarette, glancing at her to check if it was all right. She just smiled and felt him relax. She had few problems with it at the beginning of her pregnancy, so he had to smoke outside for a while. She was glad it was over. She loved that smell, and even more the taste of it, so entwined with his in her mind. During the long battles of the Bakumatsu, she even had tried to smoke sometimes, when she was missing him too much, so the room would smell like he was there, so she could pretend he was not so far away, and would appear any second and kiss her.Okita-kun caught her once, and had been utterly horrified. Of course, she would never tell Hajime about that. Yet she would like to see his face if she did.She gazed at his severe, so manly long features, at his intense amber eyes. He had never been a spontaneous person, and in 10 years he had grown even more controlled. He managed to conceal totally and almost permanently his emotions, and lately she couldn't take him aback as often as she could when they met. Last time she had managed that she had needed no less than breaking the news about the baby! But she was the only one he trusted enough to share his feelings. That meant more to her than anything else.
She frowned. He was staring absently at the fire. He had been odd the last couple of months. Preoccupied. Distant. She even thought for a moment that there was another woman. Her heart sank once more at the idea. She quickly understood it was not the case. He was still looking at her in the same way and, in spite of her pregnancy, his desire for her didn't fade. Thinking only about yesterday.she couldn't help to sigh with satisfaction at the memory, and he immediately turned to her, inquiringly.
"I thought about last night" she provided honestly, only to see his eyes glitter in a sinful way. Definitely, it was not somebody else. Still, he used to confide in her in everything. His behavior was not normal. She couldn't hold back her next words:
"You have something on your mind." At his now openly lustful grin, she added: " I don't mean that something".
His face went straight, his gaze focusing on the flames once more. He took a long puff, exhaling the smoke slowly.
"They found me again." More than two years ago, they had disappeared and changed their name. Hajime had joined the Meiji government army after the downfall of the Shinsengumi, but the war being over he considered he had fulfilled his duty.
She asked quietly: " Do we have to leave?"
"They offered me a job." She said nothing, so he went on: "There are problems in Aizu, for a change. And they discovered that many corrupted politicians are plotting against them, threatening the order of the country. They propose me to join the polices force as a spy."
"When did you have this offer?"
"About 2 months ago."
She didn't need to ask if he wanted to accept. She closed her eyes. Thinking about what he had said these lasts years, who he was, his devotion to his duty, what she knew about recent political situation. She stayed still for long minutes. When she slowly opened her lids, a soft smile was playing on her mouth.
"We can't leave the security of the country to these morons, can we?"
He tossed the cigarette butt in an ashtray, half-smiling.
"They plan to charge me with the most dangerous, dirty jobs."
"I don't think they want to hire you to take care of their paperwork."
They shared an amused glance, before he turned his gaze again, the flames reverberating in his eyes, in golden glows.
"Tokio?"
"Yes?"
"You know what you mean to me," he said, still fixing the burning logs.
Half a question, half a statement. Made in the most neutral tone. Yet, her whole body tensed and relaxed at the same time. After more than 10 years he still had this effect on her. Did she know? She always had.
" The same as you mean to me. Well, I guess, because you are not very talkative on that matter, you know." She ended the sentence as a joke, to get rid of that emotion seizing her throat. Damn pregnancy.a bit too emotional, the doctor had said?
"I guess so, yes." He flashed her his wolfish smirk. "I'm going to get the dinner. Just rest here."
Passing next to her, he bent to kiss her forehead but she lifted her face. Their lips met, and things were getting slightly out of control when she suddenly broke off, tugging on his hand to put it on her belly.
" He's so calm usually. Today he kept on kicking."
Hajime's expression grew intense as he was feeling the steady moves of the baby.
"You never told me.Does it hurt?" He looked murderous, making her laugh.
"It can get uncomfortable, but nothing that deserves a spank. Don't hold that against our son."
He sighed." It may be a daughter. There is no way to know, Tokio." His protest lacked of force. It was impossible to discuss that topic with her. She knew she was stubborn. But hey, the baby was inside HER.
"It's a boy. I just know it. And thank God we aren't having a girl, because when we grow old, I want you to spend your time with ME, instead of chasing and scaring the poor boys who'd have done so much as looking at her."
He smiled wickedly, and reluctantly stood up..
"I'm back with the food."?he began. Glancing accidentally on the other side of the armchair, he noticed a huge pile of papers and boxes which had been previously concealing sweets, and added:
"Yet I think you may not be hungry."
She blushed, guiltily, and heard his muffled laugh as he entered the kitchen.
Later that night, Saitoh woke up as he heard moans of pain. Half-asleep, he realized she was not by his side, and seized his sword before rushing to the bathroom. Somebody was hurting her.His katana fell on the floor as he spotted her. She sat in front of the tub, curled over her belly. He flew, more than he ran to her.
"Tokio?"
She raised a sweaty face.
"I thought it was nothing, but it seems that labor has started."
She gripped his forearms as her belly went through a big spasm. He carried her to the bedroom.
"I'll be back with the doctor in a few minutes. Just hold on for a while."
She smiled bravely, and he kissed her forehead before turning on his heels. He was at the door when she called him back: "Hajime."
He hurried towards her again, concerned. "Yes?"
"You should get dressed first."
Hours later, as the cold January dawn was faintly lighting their garden covered with snow, Saitoh thought his nerves were about to break under the tension. He could hear her cries of pain, and he knew his wife was not a woman who complained for nothing. This old, incompetent, poor excuse for a doctor should have been able to do something to relieve her. He was going to execute this rotten pile of bones in a bloody way if anything happened to Tokio. He had never really paid attention to when he had heard about the number of death in birth giving. But now. He tried to picture his life without her. The next puff he took sucked half of his cigarette. Ordinary woman could do it and survive. She was strong, she was perfect, she would be safe. Pure logic. Logic had to rule emotions. He was in control.
Another scream had him crush convulsively his cigarette in an ashtray, causing a consequent amount of ashes to fall onto his hand. He lit another stick before even freeing his hand from the dirt. He looked around. There were seven big ashtrays in the living room (Tokio had started a collection just after they moved in), and every single one of them was positively stuffed with cigarette butts. He had smoked the equivalent of several days during the last hours, and."Bloody fuck!" he cursed out loud, realizing he was smoking the last one he had in the house.
After a few minutes without smoking, Saitoh suddenly remembered that Tokio kept a bit of sake in the house for guests. Had kept sake, more exactly, he thought one hour later as he finished the bottle. Why did he stop drinking, already? He felt more relaxed now. A new scream, louder than the others, ripped his soul apart. He walked towards the bedroom. That was enough. He would probably help her better than the old skeleton, anyway, so whatever he killed him. Now, in that state of nerves and out of cigarettes, only drawing blood could calm him down.
He was halfway from the room when a different cry reached his ears. He stopped, his mind abruptly clearing up from the blur that the sake had caused; still it took several minutes for the meaning to fully hit him. When he finally entered, he saw the doctor put a bundle of clothes in Tokio's cradled arms. She was pale, sweaty, exhausted, yet she had never been so beautiful, a heavenly smile brightening her angelic features. The doctor noticed his presence and beamed at him.
"Congratulation, my boy, you have a healthy son." Reaching the door, he patted Saitoh's shoulder and added: "I leave you now but will be back around noon to check on the young mother." Saitoh barely listened, his eyes locking with hers.
He walked slowly to the futon, and kneeled next to her, unable to utter a word. He stroke back some strands of hair that had stuck to her forehead. Was it possible to look that happy?
"We have a son," she whispered in awe, searching in his eyes.
He nodded, mesmerized by the joyful fire burning in the silver pools.
"Look how beautiful he is!"
He managed to glance down at the bundle, saw a perfect little face, and touched a tiny finger with his own. A hand moved to close around it, and Saitoh felt his throat go dry. He really had smoked too much today. The little thing opened its until now closed eyelids. He barely heard Tokio's marveling whisper: "He has your eyes!"
Their son inspected their faces for a few seconds, and closed his lids again. He turned to his wife, caressed slowly her lips with his thumb. "Thank you", he whispered. He had never thanked anybody in his life, and she knew it.
" So I guess you like him?" she was trying to joke but her voice was filled with emotion.
"Moron!"
His snort made her laugh, a laugh of utter delight. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a while. He returned the question. "And you?"
She looked at him in wonder. "Of course.He looks so much like you!" and with a little laugh " It's very unfair, because you had only the easy part of the work."
He stiffened." You were in pain."
She shook her head. "He's worth every second of it. And I was lucky. It takes usually more time and more pain to have such a.."
" Miracle" he provided without thinking first. Did he say that aloud? Did this word really come from his brain?
"Hajime, are you waxing poetic?" she asked in disbelief. It was the word she had in mind but not in a million years she thought HE would say it.
He groaned." So ?" He just had a sleepless night and his brain was kind of messy, he thought, furious at himself. The craving for cigarettes was obviously beginning to affect his mind, too.
She retreated cautiously. "So how do we call him?"
"You did the hard work. You got the right to name him."
She smiled: "I had one name in mind, in fact. What about Tsutomu? I'd like him to have your sense of duty. I like that in you. Moreover, after the decision you took."
"We took"
".we took tonight, it would be appropriate."
He grinned, utterly ironic. "I like it. But I'm disappointed. I thought you preferred my strength, or my brains, or my ."
She smiled sweetly: "I do." The arrogant smirk she was expecting appeared, so she shot: "I have however a problem with your ego."
In spite of the bantering, her exhaustion was palpable. He eased himself next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"Hajime?" she asked lazily.
"Yes, honey?" his voice was sleepy.
She pretended not to notice, but savored the endearment. She had a hint she wouldn't hear it again soon. It was so funny to see her husband in that state. He smelled faintly of alcohol, was he drunk? No, it was not likely, otherwise...She giggled.
"You know what is the real miracle?"
"Tell me."
She began to choke with laughter.
"He called you "my boy", patted you on the shoulder and he is still alive!"
Saitoh cursed.
She fell asleep the next moment. He contemplated her happy, peaceful smile, then turned to their son, who had just opened his eyes at Tokio's shuddering.
"You take care of her when I'm away." he stated sternly.
The baby seemed to stare back at him seriously, then yawned and went back to sleep. Saitoh took it as an agreement. And decided Tsutomu had a good idea. He needed some sleep too. Very well, he thought before closing his eyes, satisfied. His son was not a moron.
End of the story
Tsutomu: one of the meanings of the kanji is duty.