Part Four: Sweet Sleep Descends
Epilogue
May 1880 - 12th year of the Meiji Era (less than three months later)
Saitou marvelled that such a selfish wish had been granted to him not once, but twice in his lifetime--an intimate relationship with a perfectly suitable partner. Well, perhaps not perfect, but close enough to satisfy.
"Hey, you just gonna sit there, or go to sleep?"
A close relationship was not necessary for his survival or even his mere contentment, but Saitou valued it highly. There was an indescribable freedom and solace in sharing a deep trust with one person, despite the dangers inherent in such a practice.
"Later. I still have work to do."
Tokio had been unexpected--a precious gift not asked for, but welcomed. Finding a woman who was admirable, charming, soothing and who held fondness for him was one thing, but as her love and trust in him had allowed him to reciprocate, he'd discovered that there was something about her that relaxed him completely, and gave him a chance to be more open and human--in private, of course. Sharing his life, troubles, imperfections, weaknesses, joys, hopes, wants, and needs with her had relieved and grounded him, making him even more powerful and steadfast. She had become his well of strength at a time when it was most needed, at the end of his world, at the end of the shogunate.
"Aw, c'mon, you worked all day and all week! Just come to bed already."
Perhaps "end of his world" was a strong way to put it, but with first the shogunate's surrender of Japan to invading ideals, the admission that the old ways were lost to a modern world and then the last vestige of the old ways being overthrown in favour of another, considerably more naïve government that still desired to pander to the West, it had felt apocalyptic. His status as samurai dissolved, his weapons and lifestyle banned, Saitou had been a man with purpose, but no direction. But Tokio had not, and never did, put up with any kind of self-pity. In his bleakest moment, she had goaded him back into action. Marrying her was the finest choice he had ever made, aside from a later choice of joining the police force, which had been at her behest anyhow.
"This will not take long. Go, and I will join you soon."
She had been beautiful. Much smaller than him--which occasionally had made sharing affections awkward--with massive eyes that gave her the appearance of being a little girl. Saitou had never tired of looking at his wife. She had only been a couple of years younger than he was, but there had been times when she would affect an almost impossible childlike persona, whether she was being joyous or petulant. Her special youth had had a way of rubbing off on him, giving him extra energy and vitality.
Sanosuke grumbled and glared, not leaving his side.
Of course, she'd never behaved that way except with him. In the company of others, Tokio had been proper, demure, and discreet, as well as intelligent and confident. She had been cultivated as a perfect lady, and would have been ashamed to act otherwise in public, though people often remarked on how young she seemed, and on her strong spirit. Alone with him, she hadn't acted foolish or immature, only let herself be more comfortable and less restrained. Privately, they relaxed together and enjoyed each other; shared moments of sentimentality, hurt, or weakness that they would have otherwise kept to themselves.
"That's just some paperwork, Hajime; you can do it any time."
Her eyes had been her best feature--expressive to the point of intelligent articulation. She had always surprised Saitou with her ability to convey her intentions with absolute clarity in only a few glances. Sometimes, even if he was suffering from a large amount of stress or anger, he only had to look at her, into her eyes, to be calmed and refreshed.
Saitou shifted uncomfortably against the weight of Sano leaning over his shoulder.
Her eyes had been a bittersweet blessing once her illness had progressed beyond the point of repair. As her chest laboured and strained, her eyes had shone forgiveness and love to him, her mouth too busy gasping for air. After her child's-eyes--by then the only shred of youth left in her shaking, shuddering body--had closed for the last time he had begun the process of earning that forgiveness.
"If done now, it won't interfere later on. Don't fight me on this, Sanosuke."
He'd known right away the disease was caused by him. The smoking was something he'd picked up soon after the dawn of the new age. At first, it had been a disappointed whim; lip service to the conquering Western influences, but he'd found he enjoyed the cigarettes and their calming effect, and they'd became a suitable replacement to alcohol, which that he could no longer afford to relinquish control to. He'd appreciated the portability and compactness of the cigarettes, and the foreboding element they added to his image.
"Fuck, I ain't tryin' to start somethin', okay? I just don't see why you gotta do this shit right now."
But the habit had been the one thing Tokio deemed completely intolerable. She'd detested the smell and taste of them, the mess they left, and how they yellowed his fingers and teeth. He had forced a compromise, however. He hadn't seen a good enough reason to give up his cigarettes, so he'd appeased her by smoking outside and cutting back while he was at home. Her coughing fits had been slightly distressing, but she'd always been prone to them, long before they'd met. Saitou had concluded that although she was weak-lunged, her body was otherwise very healthy and quitting smoking would only make him unnecessarily irritated and inconvenienced. He'd tried to make it up to her by always keeping a supply of the expensive, foreign incense she liked in the house.
Saitou smacked Sano across the back of the head.
It hadn't been enough, of course. He still felt stupid for not realizing the danger of trusting a Western product, for not understanding its poisonous nature. The cigarettes had rotted his wife's body, and sunk claws into his own, so silently he'd never even noticed until trying to give up the habit. More insidious than opium, the cigarettes did not waste away the user overtly, but trapped him in a guise of benign pleasure. Who could tell what damage had been done to his own body, and whether or not he would end up like his Tokio, wheezing his way to oblivion.
"What the hell was that for!"
But regrets were stumbling blocks for fools. He'd learned many lessons from Tokio's parting, not the least of which was to be more wary of American gifts to poor, backwards Japan. Perhaps Tokio had only succumbed because of her already deficient lungs; Saitou himself could not detect the same symptoms in himself, and still felt exceptionally healthy for his age. Most importantly, though the incident with the cigarettes had been unexpected and had happened at a very bad time, he was completely beyond their reach now. The matter was resolved.
"I have told you before, do not use that kind of language. You degrade yourself by it."
Tokio rested peacefully--remembered, loved, and set free. His regret over her death was replaced with a respect for her life. He had lapsed, occasionally, into melancholic recollections, dozing off into a memory of her face or her voice. But the memories didn't help him with anything--she had been a presence in his life, not a vision. The drifts were accidents he avoided, not that he'd had too much trouble with them lately.
Sano rubbed his head and looked at him reproachfully, but a tiny smile struggled on the young man's lips.
What Saitou had missed the most about Tokio was the openness of their relationship. She'd been someone he didn't have to be on guard around; he'd been someone she didn't have to be subservient to. He'd accepted she was more willful a woman than the average man would want; she'd accepted his absolute devotion to his pursuit of justice. He had loved her spirit; she had loved his conviction.
"You get so cranky when you're tired, Hajime; it's kinda cute. I just don't wanna go to bed alone tonight, so I'm gonna wait up for you."
It had been because their personalities and needs fit so well that he and Tokio had been able to achieve their intimacy and support each other. Tokio had been a gift he'd never take for granted, especially now that he'd found Sanosuke, who possessed the same talents, personality, and spirit as his late wife. Sano was a second chance Saitou had not anticipated nor requested, but appreciated nonetheless.
Saitou smiled slightly as his pen scratched over the heavy paper.
Upon first meeting the young man, Saitou had been struck by the resemblance to Tokio the boy had. However, because Sano had also been immature and childish, obstinate to the point of self-destruction, and completely undisciplined, he'd been offended and irritated by the boy's presence, finding it a mockery of his already-ailing wife. Ignoring the idiot had been the best way to deal with his insistent existence. However, upon meeting Sanosuke again, over a year later, he had not found an impudent, belligerent brat, but a slightly older young man, with an adult's pain and experience in his eyes. Saitou had immediately been forced to re-evaluate him, and the potential he'd seen had been very interesting.
"Fine. But stop leaning on me like that."
After finding suitable interest in the changed young man, Saitou had been prepared to take a paternal or fraternal role. He had enough connections and means to provide Sanosuke, underprivileged as he was, with things he would have otherwise done without, like food and proper clothing, or would greatly benefit from, like certain opportunities for a better lifestyle, education or employment. Sano was accommodating and quietly grateful for the former, as well as reciprocating in his companionship, but a few problems had arisen over the "certain opportunities".
"Yeah, yeah. So surly, man."
That they would become friends had not been a part of the original plan, but Saitou hadn't minded it. He'd been surprised to find that Sanosuke harboured a charming personality under all his ridiculous bravado and fist- flinging inclinations. Not to say there wasn't a lively quality added to anything they did together, but Saitou found himself amused and relaxed by Sano's carefree but not careless presence, even when he was also infuriated by it.
"If I start yawnin', and keep doin' it, and then you start, will you finally come to bed?"
So he had been content with their relationship. He'd made sure Sanosuke continued on his path to making the most of his potential, eased some of his need for human interaction, and grown quite comfortable in Tokyo, of the mind for a semi-permanent position. The need for cigarettes had appeared only slightly more frequently than the need for Tokio, but both were decreased by Sanosuke's company and new cases. If he had ever spared a thought of increasing the intensity of his relationship with Sano, he couldn't recall it now.
"No. Don't be a dumbass."
But Sano had come up with another of his astonishing surprises. Whether it was bizarre new techniques like his Futae no Kiwami, powerful illegal bombs, or simply not dying even after sustaining injuries fatal to any other average slob, Sanosuke was capable of miracles that no law of probability would ever believe. Saitou suspected it was Sano's raw obstinacy--and sometimes ignorance--that allowed him to endure the impossible and create such odd but successful solutions. In the most recent case, Saitou had not even suspected the problem, much less Sano's unthinking remedy to it.
"Hey! Don't be a jackass either!"
Saitou had known, of course, that something had happened to Sanosuke during the months after Shishio's defeat. It had seriously hurt the young man, and had shifted his way of thinking, sobering him. It had stripped him of illusions and forced him to rebuild his perception of the world. Saitou, knowing well enough the pain a memory could bear, had neglected to pry. However, once Sano's anger and avoidance had gotten in the way of something Saitou considered more important--that is, getting the young man into a lifestyle with considerably more options than his current one afforded-- Saitou had felt compelled to address the issue of why Sanosuke was so reluctant to take his humble offering.
Saitou reached over and ruffled Sanosuke's hair.
Understanding that forcing a confession from Sano would require both hurting him and providing a reciprocal explanation of Saitou's own behaviour--which he'd known the young man had noticed--Saitou had taken his chance that discovering the root of Sanosuke's pain and sporadic animosity would allow him to help the young man who had become both his project and his friend. He had been right, of course.
"Hey, I ain't no little kid, so don't treat me like one."
Despite the violent surprise that Sano was both inclined that way and inclined that way towards him--and that the whole thing was tangled up in some teenage wet dreams--the solution to both of their problems had been instantly obvious, although Sano hadn't seen it through his haze of low expectations. Even after Saitou reassured him over the matter of his wife, the young man had been oblivious to the possibilities. Saitou wondered if perhaps Sano hadn't gotten a little too caught up in his new attention to reality.
"I was not treating you like a child; I was being affectionate."
Saitou had taken the necessary blunt measures, however, and finally given Sanosuke a taste of the surprises he'd been handing out so freely. For Saitou, the solution was perfect. He had not been prepared to consider the young man in that particular light, but as soon as the possibility appeared, he had accepted immediately. Sano was already good company with bright prospects, but he was also attractive, and more importantly, loyal and faithful.
"No, you were actin' like you were bein' affectionate so I would shut up and go away."
Saitou had realized that the only thing stopping Sanosuke from being the same type of partner to him as Tokio was the incompleteness of their intimacy. A friend is never quite as close as a lover can be, because there are important facets of life never shared. Saitou had found himself quite prepared to share more than what he already had with Sanosuke, and fortunately, Sano had agreed, after his brief hesitation.
"Why do you assume that?"
In a few days, it would mark three months from that evening when it had rained and Saitou had kissed Sanosuke. There had been many kisses since, and Saitou remembered each of them. The peck on the cheek early the morning after that evening. The more intense kiss on a night two weeks later, after they had decided that going out to the bars would be a poor idea for that particular evening. And, of course, the myriad of kisses they had shared just last week, when Sanosuke had not only stayed the night in the literal sense, but also in the more suggestive sense.
"'Cause that ain't the way you're affectionate."
They'd put off sex for a while. It had been work enough to figure out how to work their new life into their old life. Sanosuke in particular had spent a lot of the first week dragging him off into secluded corners for brief exchanges of affection, just to make sure that they were really together. Saitou thought it was cute, though Sano had stopped doing it as much lately, to have hands running over his arms like he was about to disappear and soft lips skim the flesh of his face and neck. He always teased Sano about it once they returned to the privacy of his home.
"No?"
It was in his home, which was fast becoming Sano's home, that they were most changed. In public, aside from the brief escapes, they acted the same as before--two friends who enjoyed antagonizing each other. Sano's relationships with his friends at the dojo, and the two doctors, and his childhood friend were still stilted from the dreaming period. Saitou encouraged Sano to reach back out to them, but suggested that they be Sano's friends only; Saitou did not need excessive company from nosy people. Himura knew Saitou and Sanosuke had begun to see each other as friends--in fact, had been downright smug about it, hinting that he had foreseen it from the beginning--but both Saitou and Sanosuke were careful to keep the new dimensions of their relationship a secret.
"Nope. You're not affectionate like every other person. You do it different."
Saitou much preferred to keep his private life private. His perfect day consisted of going to work; thwarting some idiot's self-serving, cruel, and poorly executed plans to grab power; ruining a few corrupt and greedy politicians; then coming home to spend the evening alone with his attractive, honest, and loyal partner for a reprieve from the hideousness of men's souls. And a back rub, if he was lucky. He and Sanosuke went out sometimes, for dinner or to let Sano gamble, but that was mostly to keep up appearances. They had been such an interesting and attention-gathering pair that if they disappeared from the public scene, someone would notice and possibly comment. Saitou did not want to be involved in a scandal or a public relationship--either was too much hassle. Sanosuke had yet to seriously complain about the arrangement, and Saitou suspected he felt the same way about their privacy.
"Is that so."
Not that they agreed on everything. Over the course of the last three months, Saitou had counted five smaller fights, mostly due to adjusting to spending more time together, and three larger fights. So far, they had fought over why Sanosuke had to keep up his old shack and pretend to still live there, which Sano had thought would be too much work, and how Saitou should stop bringing all his paperwork home every single night. Saitou had learned the hard way that no matter his opinions on the subject, bringing up his dislike of Himura was a bad idea. Tension still lingered in the air from a disagreeable week that had begun with Sanosuke disappearing for a whole evening on an impromptu visit to the dojo and climaxed three days later with an explosion when Saitou had announced the possibility of his being transferred out of Tokyo. Both issues had been talked over, but a real resolution had yet to be reached.
"Heh, now you're gettin' pissy because I got you all figured out."
The biggest fight yet happened about four weeks ago, when Sanosuke had been in a mood to go out drinking, and Saitou hadn't. It would have been a small quarrel had Saitou not tried to interrupt it by initiating a serious kiss in order to persuade Sano to stay home. A week and a half had passed before Saitou had been able to bring himself to apologize for what Sanosuke had interpreted as him trying to use sex to get his way.
"Hn. So exactly how am I affectionate, compared to every other person?"
Saitou tried to be understanding of Sano's nervousness about intercourse. The young man had explained to him that sex was not something he'd ever taken very seriously before, and now he was trying to rethink his whole perspective on it. After his foible with the kiss, Saitou had been worried that he'd permanently frightened Sanosuke off of the act. The relief of Sano's forgiveness had been well worth the apology. Since then, Saitou had been much more careful to not violate Sano's control and let things proceed at the rate his partner wanted.
"You're affectionate when you smile at me like you don't smile at nobody else."
It wasn't that sex was all he wanted, or the most important thing to him, but he did find it enjoyable, and had Sanosuke not been predisposed otherwise, he probably would have made the young man his lover within the first weeks of their new relationship. When Sano had signalled his readiness--the bluntness of his surprise "fuck me," whispered in Saitou's ear a cause for alarm and arousal--Saitou gladly had taken the invitation to finally complete their intimacy.
Saitou paused in his work, then smiled, leaned over, and gave Sano a light kiss on the lips.
The event had been worth the wait. Despite Sano's firm decision that he knew what he wanted and why he wanted it, he was still uneasy about finally going through with it, but he'd been frank about his apprehension and Saitou had enjoyed being able to help calm him down. Once they were into the rhythm of foreplay, Sanosuke had opened up and become an active participant; he'd been clear about what he liked and what he really liked, made jokes about his own awkwardness instead of feeling ashamed, and periodically whispered beautiful "I love you"'s. Perfection had not been present--Sano was inexperienced and Saitou was long out of practice. Violence had occurred--Saitou had taken an over-excited elbow to the stomach and Sano had suffered leg cramps. But afterwards, they had lain in each other's arms like clichéd fantasy-romance lovers, and been wholly content.
Sano looked pleased with himself.
Sagara Sanosuke was almost perfection. The wait for intercourse had proven this even, as it showed Sano's dedication and determination, and his newfound patience. Sano had always had the beauty, the strength, the passion, and the heart, but the hardship of losing hope and love had coalesced something in him, had given him the few attributes he had lacked for Saitou to love him. This Sanosuke had resolve, purpose, and an understanding of reality that escaped so many and that so many fled from. The Battousai himself had refused to learn what Sano knew now; that some things don't happen, some dreams don't come true, some lives do not end happily ever after (though sometimes they do).
"You should go to bed now; you need the rest. I will be in soon."
Saitou had waited a very long time to find Tokio, though he hadn't realized it until she had appeared and shown him, and he had waited just as long to find Sanosuke. Now he had the shadow of one in the other--two companions where he'd once had none. Saitou was not a lonely man, but now he had no fear that loneliness might ever overtake him. Even should Sanosuke, for all his promise and strength, die or leave, he would have already given Saitou a new wealth of strength. Saitou believed in his country, but in the sewers where he dwelt to clean up the rats and scum, the gift of a lantern, burning with the intensity of Tokio or the ferocity of Sanosuke, was invaluable.
"Okay. Night, Hajime."
After Sanosuke shuffled off through the doorway and down the hall, Saitou rested his pen on the edge of the table. He rubbed his eyes and pushed the papers into a neat pile to the side, promising to hand what little work remained on them to some subordinate in the morning. Right now, he needed his sleep and a warm body.
Walking down the hallway his lover had just passed through, he reminded himself to find out when Sano's birthday was; it wasn't included in any of the police records available. He wanted to know as soon as possible to avoid missing it, but wondered if there was a way he could extract the information without being forced to give up his own anniversary. Saitou cringed to think of what devious and malicious plans Sano might come up with to celebrate an old man's birthday.
Saitou put those thoughts aside when he slid open the bedroom door--no one who was able to look that ridiculous while sleeping could possibly be too devious.
Sanosuke never simply lay down; he sprawled, draped, stretched, and flopped. His hair became a wild animal and the snores emanating from his mouth only heightened the illusion. The assortment of limbs in odd places and the facial expressions that changed with every dream and shift never failed to make Saitou want to laugh aloud. The way his lover slept, dignity was not an option. This was the real reason Saitou always preferred it when Sanosuke went to bed before he did.
Saitou never tired of being able to lie down next to his unconscious partner, rearrange the tangle of body parts to a more comfortable position for both of them, and simply look at his Sanosuke. It startled him to think that this impressive man in his arms was the same child who had shown nothing but wasted talent and reckless innocence when they had first met. The same fool who had spent his energy learning a gaudy new trick with his fists, instead of going back to the basics of defence. The same useless boy he'd left behind in the inferno of Shishio's fortress.
Now everything about Sano was precious and beloved. Useful and necessary. From his soft eyes to his bad drinking habit, everything he was made him Sanosuke. Saitou would have composed poetry about his lover if he thought it would capture even a fourth of its inspiration, but he refrained. The words that flew through his head, romantic and ridiculous, only applied when they were silent. Sano was too much an anomaly of beauty, an undefined creature of perfection, that to describe his unpredictable, willful charms and handsomeness aloud, a new language would be required. Only the mind could safely imagine a way to verbally illustrate this sweet mix of rebel, punk, free spirit, friend, boy, and man.
Words were unnecessary--Saitou was content to watch, love and smile; hold his sleeping lover; and wish him happy dreams. Saitou's own dreams had come true.
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Final Author's Note: It's done! Really really really done. I've posted this on the one year anniversary of the posting of the first chapter. My god, I work slowly. ^_^ I hope everyone enjoyed this romp (sappy as it is. . .) and found that it wasn't too clichéd after all. Heh, no feedback questions this time.
I probably shouldn't dig myself into a hole of obligations (any more than I already have), but I will say that sometime in the far future, I may write a sequel to this just because it would be nice to work with these two as an established couple. Get-together fics get old.
One last note before I post the timeline (not necessary, but I thought that since I made so much use of it, someone might like to see it), check out the RK yaoi RPG I am in! Game is here: www.livejournal.com/community/rk_onigokko and Archive is here: hardboiledwonderland.org/onigokko/
** ** **
FIC TIMELINE
- 1873 - Saitou Hajime and Takagi Tokio are wed**
- 1877 - Saitou Hajime assumes the name of Fujita Gorou and becomes a spy for the police**
- May 1878 - (early) Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke meet; (mid) Shishio Makoto is defeated and Saitou Hajime 'dies'
- June 1878 - (mid) Sagara Sanosuke's dreams begin
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-
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-
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- January 1879 - (early) Saitou Tokio dies of lung disease
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- March 1879 - (mid) events of 1.1
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- May 1879 - (mid) Saitou Hajime quits smoking
- June 1879 - (late) events of 2.1 and 2.2: Sagara Sanosuke's dreams stop, but he falls into a depression
- July 1879 - (early) Sagara Sanosuke recovers and is employed by Shimohira Tobei
- August 1879 - (mid) rumours of a "high and mighty asshole" cop coming to Tokyo begin
- September 1879 - (early) Tsukioka Katsuhiro confirms news of Saitou Hajime's impending return to Tokyo
- October 1879 - (late) events of 3.1: Saitou Hajime returns to Tokyo
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- January 1880 - (mid) events of 3.2
- February 1880 - (mid) events of 3.3: Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke come to an understanding and decide to attempt a relationship
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- April 1880 - (late) Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke consummate their relationship
- May 1880 - (early) events of 4.1
**historically accurate
*~*~*
Epilogue
May 1880 - 12th year of the Meiji Era (less than three months later)
Saitou marvelled that such a selfish wish had been granted to him not once, but twice in his lifetime--an intimate relationship with a perfectly suitable partner. Well, perhaps not perfect, but close enough to satisfy.
"Hey, you just gonna sit there, or go to sleep?"
A close relationship was not necessary for his survival or even his mere contentment, but Saitou valued it highly. There was an indescribable freedom and solace in sharing a deep trust with one person, despite the dangers inherent in such a practice.
"Later. I still have work to do."
Tokio had been unexpected--a precious gift not asked for, but welcomed. Finding a woman who was admirable, charming, soothing and who held fondness for him was one thing, but as her love and trust in him had allowed him to reciprocate, he'd discovered that there was something about her that relaxed him completely, and gave him a chance to be more open and human--in private, of course. Sharing his life, troubles, imperfections, weaknesses, joys, hopes, wants, and needs with her had relieved and grounded him, making him even more powerful and steadfast. She had become his well of strength at a time when it was most needed, at the end of his world, at the end of the shogunate.
"Aw, c'mon, you worked all day and all week! Just come to bed already."
Perhaps "end of his world" was a strong way to put it, but with first the shogunate's surrender of Japan to invading ideals, the admission that the old ways were lost to a modern world and then the last vestige of the old ways being overthrown in favour of another, considerably more naïve government that still desired to pander to the West, it had felt apocalyptic. His status as samurai dissolved, his weapons and lifestyle banned, Saitou had been a man with purpose, but no direction. But Tokio had not, and never did, put up with any kind of self-pity. In his bleakest moment, she had goaded him back into action. Marrying her was the finest choice he had ever made, aside from a later choice of joining the police force, which had been at her behest anyhow.
"This will not take long. Go, and I will join you soon."
She had been beautiful. Much smaller than him--which occasionally had made sharing affections awkward--with massive eyes that gave her the appearance of being a little girl. Saitou had never tired of looking at his wife. She had only been a couple of years younger than he was, but there had been times when she would affect an almost impossible childlike persona, whether she was being joyous or petulant. Her special youth had had a way of rubbing off on him, giving him extra energy and vitality.
Sanosuke grumbled and glared, not leaving his side.
Of course, she'd never behaved that way except with him. In the company of others, Tokio had been proper, demure, and discreet, as well as intelligent and confident. She had been cultivated as a perfect lady, and would have been ashamed to act otherwise in public, though people often remarked on how young she seemed, and on her strong spirit. Alone with him, she hadn't acted foolish or immature, only let herself be more comfortable and less restrained. Privately, they relaxed together and enjoyed each other; shared moments of sentimentality, hurt, or weakness that they would have otherwise kept to themselves.
"That's just some paperwork, Hajime; you can do it any time."
Her eyes had been her best feature--expressive to the point of intelligent articulation. She had always surprised Saitou with her ability to convey her intentions with absolute clarity in only a few glances. Sometimes, even if he was suffering from a large amount of stress or anger, he only had to look at her, into her eyes, to be calmed and refreshed.
Saitou shifted uncomfortably against the weight of Sano leaning over his shoulder.
Her eyes had been a bittersweet blessing once her illness had progressed beyond the point of repair. As her chest laboured and strained, her eyes had shone forgiveness and love to him, her mouth too busy gasping for air. After her child's-eyes--by then the only shred of youth left in her shaking, shuddering body--had closed for the last time he had begun the process of earning that forgiveness.
"If done now, it won't interfere later on. Don't fight me on this, Sanosuke."
He'd known right away the disease was caused by him. The smoking was something he'd picked up soon after the dawn of the new age. At first, it had been a disappointed whim; lip service to the conquering Western influences, but he'd found he enjoyed the cigarettes and their calming effect, and they'd became a suitable replacement to alcohol, which that he could no longer afford to relinquish control to. He'd appreciated the portability and compactness of the cigarettes, and the foreboding element they added to his image.
"Fuck, I ain't tryin' to start somethin', okay? I just don't see why you gotta do this shit right now."
But the habit had been the one thing Tokio deemed completely intolerable. She'd detested the smell and taste of them, the mess they left, and how they yellowed his fingers and teeth. He had forced a compromise, however. He hadn't seen a good enough reason to give up his cigarettes, so he'd appeased her by smoking outside and cutting back while he was at home. Her coughing fits had been slightly distressing, but she'd always been prone to them, long before they'd met. Saitou had concluded that although she was weak-lunged, her body was otherwise very healthy and quitting smoking would only make him unnecessarily irritated and inconvenienced. He'd tried to make it up to her by always keeping a supply of the expensive, foreign incense she liked in the house.
Saitou smacked Sano across the back of the head.
It hadn't been enough, of course. He still felt stupid for not realizing the danger of trusting a Western product, for not understanding its poisonous nature. The cigarettes had rotted his wife's body, and sunk claws into his own, so silently he'd never even noticed until trying to give up the habit. More insidious than opium, the cigarettes did not waste away the user overtly, but trapped him in a guise of benign pleasure. Who could tell what damage had been done to his own body, and whether or not he would end up like his Tokio, wheezing his way to oblivion.
"What the hell was that for!"
But regrets were stumbling blocks for fools. He'd learned many lessons from Tokio's parting, not the least of which was to be more wary of American gifts to poor, backwards Japan. Perhaps Tokio had only succumbed because of her already deficient lungs; Saitou himself could not detect the same symptoms in himself, and still felt exceptionally healthy for his age. Most importantly, though the incident with the cigarettes had been unexpected and had happened at a very bad time, he was completely beyond their reach now. The matter was resolved.
"I have told you before, do not use that kind of language. You degrade yourself by it."
Tokio rested peacefully--remembered, loved, and set free. His regret over her death was replaced with a respect for her life. He had lapsed, occasionally, into melancholic recollections, dozing off into a memory of her face or her voice. But the memories didn't help him with anything--she had been a presence in his life, not a vision. The drifts were accidents he avoided, not that he'd had too much trouble with them lately.
Sano rubbed his head and looked at him reproachfully, but a tiny smile struggled on the young man's lips.
What Saitou had missed the most about Tokio was the openness of their relationship. She'd been someone he didn't have to be on guard around; he'd been someone she didn't have to be subservient to. He'd accepted she was more willful a woman than the average man would want; she'd accepted his absolute devotion to his pursuit of justice. He had loved her spirit; she had loved his conviction.
"You get so cranky when you're tired, Hajime; it's kinda cute. I just don't wanna go to bed alone tonight, so I'm gonna wait up for you."
It had been because their personalities and needs fit so well that he and Tokio had been able to achieve their intimacy and support each other. Tokio had been a gift he'd never take for granted, especially now that he'd found Sanosuke, who possessed the same talents, personality, and spirit as his late wife. Sano was a second chance Saitou had not anticipated nor requested, but appreciated nonetheless.
Saitou smiled slightly as his pen scratched over the heavy paper.
Upon first meeting the young man, Saitou had been struck by the resemblance to Tokio the boy had. However, because Sano had also been immature and childish, obstinate to the point of self-destruction, and completely undisciplined, he'd been offended and irritated by the boy's presence, finding it a mockery of his already-ailing wife. Ignoring the idiot had been the best way to deal with his insistent existence. However, upon meeting Sanosuke again, over a year later, he had not found an impudent, belligerent brat, but a slightly older young man, with an adult's pain and experience in his eyes. Saitou had immediately been forced to re-evaluate him, and the potential he'd seen had been very interesting.
"Fine. But stop leaning on me like that."
After finding suitable interest in the changed young man, Saitou had been prepared to take a paternal or fraternal role. He had enough connections and means to provide Sanosuke, underprivileged as he was, with things he would have otherwise done without, like food and proper clothing, or would greatly benefit from, like certain opportunities for a better lifestyle, education or employment. Sano was accommodating and quietly grateful for the former, as well as reciprocating in his companionship, but a few problems had arisen over the "certain opportunities".
"Yeah, yeah. So surly, man."
That they would become friends had not been a part of the original plan, but Saitou hadn't minded it. He'd been surprised to find that Sanosuke harboured a charming personality under all his ridiculous bravado and fist- flinging inclinations. Not to say there wasn't a lively quality added to anything they did together, but Saitou found himself amused and relaxed by Sano's carefree but not careless presence, even when he was also infuriated by it.
"If I start yawnin', and keep doin' it, and then you start, will you finally come to bed?"
So he had been content with their relationship. He'd made sure Sanosuke continued on his path to making the most of his potential, eased some of his need for human interaction, and grown quite comfortable in Tokyo, of the mind for a semi-permanent position. The need for cigarettes had appeared only slightly more frequently than the need for Tokio, but both were decreased by Sanosuke's company and new cases. If he had ever spared a thought of increasing the intensity of his relationship with Sano, he couldn't recall it now.
"No. Don't be a dumbass."
But Sano had come up with another of his astonishing surprises. Whether it was bizarre new techniques like his Futae no Kiwami, powerful illegal bombs, or simply not dying even after sustaining injuries fatal to any other average slob, Sanosuke was capable of miracles that no law of probability would ever believe. Saitou suspected it was Sano's raw obstinacy--and sometimes ignorance--that allowed him to endure the impossible and create such odd but successful solutions. In the most recent case, Saitou had not even suspected the problem, much less Sano's unthinking remedy to it.
"Hey! Don't be a jackass either!"
Saitou had known, of course, that something had happened to Sanosuke during the months after Shishio's defeat. It had seriously hurt the young man, and had shifted his way of thinking, sobering him. It had stripped him of illusions and forced him to rebuild his perception of the world. Saitou, knowing well enough the pain a memory could bear, had neglected to pry. However, once Sano's anger and avoidance had gotten in the way of something Saitou considered more important--that is, getting the young man into a lifestyle with considerably more options than his current one afforded-- Saitou had felt compelled to address the issue of why Sanosuke was so reluctant to take his humble offering.
Saitou reached over and ruffled Sanosuke's hair.
Understanding that forcing a confession from Sano would require both hurting him and providing a reciprocal explanation of Saitou's own behaviour--which he'd known the young man had noticed--Saitou had taken his chance that discovering the root of Sanosuke's pain and sporadic animosity would allow him to help the young man who had become both his project and his friend. He had been right, of course.
"Hey, I ain't no little kid, so don't treat me like one."
Despite the violent surprise that Sano was both inclined that way and inclined that way towards him--and that the whole thing was tangled up in some teenage wet dreams--the solution to both of their problems had been instantly obvious, although Sano hadn't seen it through his haze of low expectations. Even after Saitou reassured him over the matter of his wife, the young man had been oblivious to the possibilities. Saitou wondered if perhaps Sano hadn't gotten a little too caught up in his new attention to reality.
"I was not treating you like a child; I was being affectionate."
Saitou had taken the necessary blunt measures, however, and finally given Sanosuke a taste of the surprises he'd been handing out so freely. For Saitou, the solution was perfect. He had not been prepared to consider the young man in that particular light, but as soon as the possibility appeared, he had accepted immediately. Sano was already good company with bright prospects, but he was also attractive, and more importantly, loyal and faithful.
"No, you were actin' like you were bein' affectionate so I would shut up and go away."
Saitou had realized that the only thing stopping Sanosuke from being the same type of partner to him as Tokio was the incompleteness of their intimacy. A friend is never quite as close as a lover can be, because there are important facets of life never shared. Saitou had found himself quite prepared to share more than what he already had with Sanosuke, and fortunately, Sano had agreed, after his brief hesitation.
"Why do you assume that?"
In a few days, it would mark three months from that evening when it had rained and Saitou had kissed Sanosuke. There had been many kisses since, and Saitou remembered each of them. The peck on the cheek early the morning after that evening. The more intense kiss on a night two weeks later, after they had decided that going out to the bars would be a poor idea for that particular evening. And, of course, the myriad of kisses they had shared just last week, when Sanosuke had not only stayed the night in the literal sense, but also in the more suggestive sense.
"'Cause that ain't the way you're affectionate."
They'd put off sex for a while. It had been work enough to figure out how to work their new life into their old life. Sanosuke in particular had spent a lot of the first week dragging him off into secluded corners for brief exchanges of affection, just to make sure that they were really together. Saitou thought it was cute, though Sano had stopped doing it as much lately, to have hands running over his arms like he was about to disappear and soft lips skim the flesh of his face and neck. He always teased Sano about it once they returned to the privacy of his home.
"No?"
It was in his home, which was fast becoming Sano's home, that they were most changed. In public, aside from the brief escapes, they acted the same as before--two friends who enjoyed antagonizing each other. Sano's relationships with his friends at the dojo, and the two doctors, and his childhood friend were still stilted from the dreaming period. Saitou encouraged Sano to reach back out to them, but suggested that they be Sano's friends only; Saitou did not need excessive company from nosy people. Himura knew Saitou and Sanosuke had begun to see each other as friends--in fact, had been downright smug about it, hinting that he had foreseen it from the beginning--but both Saitou and Sanosuke were careful to keep the new dimensions of their relationship a secret.
"Nope. You're not affectionate like every other person. You do it different."
Saitou much preferred to keep his private life private. His perfect day consisted of going to work; thwarting some idiot's self-serving, cruel, and poorly executed plans to grab power; ruining a few corrupt and greedy politicians; then coming home to spend the evening alone with his attractive, honest, and loyal partner for a reprieve from the hideousness of men's souls. And a back rub, if he was lucky. He and Sanosuke went out sometimes, for dinner or to let Sano gamble, but that was mostly to keep up appearances. They had been such an interesting and attention-gathering pair that if they disappeared from the public scene, someone would notice and possibly comment. Saitou did not want to be involved in a scandal or a public relationship--either was too much hassle. Sanosuke had yet to seriously complain about the arrangement, and Saitou suspected he felt the same way about their privacy.
"Is that so."
Not that they agreed on everything. Over the course of the last three months, Saitou had counted five smaller fights, mostly due to adjusting to spending more time together, and three larger fights. So far, they had fought over why Sanosuke had to keep up his old shack and pretend to still live there, which Sano had thought would be too much work, and how Saitou should stop bringing all his paperwork home every single night. Saitou had learned the hard way that no matter his opinions on the subject, bringing up his dislike of Himura was a bad idea. Tension still lingered in the air from a disagreeable week that had begun with Sanosuke disappearing for a whole evening on an impromptu visit to the dojo and climaxed three days later with an explosion when Saitou had announced the possibility of his being transferred out of Tokyo. Both issues had been talked over, but a real resolution had yet to be reached.
"Heh, now you're gettin' pissy because I got you all figured out."
The biggest fight yet happened about four weeks ago, when Sanosuke had been in a mood to go out drinking, and Saitou hadn't. It would have been a small quarrel had Saitou not tried to interrupt it by initiating a serious kiss in order to persuade Sano to stay home. A week and a half had passed before Saitou had been able to bring himself to apologize for what Sanosuke had interpreted as him trying to use sex to get his way.
"Hn. So exactly how am I affectionate, compared to every other person?"
Saitou tried to be understanding of Sano's nervousness about intercourse. The young man had explained to him that sex was not something he'd ever taken very seriously before, and now he was trying to rethink his whole perspective on it. After his foible with the kiss, Saitou had been worried that he'd permanently frightened Sanosuke off of the act. The relief of Sano's forgiveness had been well worth the apology. Since then, Saitou had been much more careful to not violate Sano's control and let things proceed at the rate his partner wanted.
"You're affectionate when you smile at me like you don't smile at nobody else."
It wasn't that sex was all he wanted, or the most important thing to him, but he did find it enjoyable, and had Sanosuke not been predisposed otherwise, he probably would have made the young man his lover within the first weeks of their new relationship. When Sano had signalled his readiness--the bluntness of his surprise "fuck me," whispered in Saitou's ear a cause for alarm and arousal--Saitou gladly had taken the invitation to finally complete their intimacy.
Saitou paused in his work, then smiled, leaned over, and gave Sano a light kiss on the lips.
The event had been worth the wait. Despite Sano's firm decision that he knew what he wanted and why he wanted it, he was still uneasy about finally going through with it, but he'd been frank about his apprehension and Saitou had enjoyed being able to help calm him down. Once they were into the rhythm of foreplay, Sanosuke had opened up and become an active participant; he'd been clear about what he liked and what he really liked, made jokes about his own awkwardness instead of feeling ashamed, and periodically whispered beautiful "I love you"'s. Perfection had not been present--Sano was inexperienced and Saitou was long out of practice. Violence had occurred--Saitou had taken an over-excited elbow to the stomach and Sano had suffered leg cramps. But afterwards, they had lain in each other's arms like clichéd fantasy-romance lovers, and been wholly content.
Sano looked pleased with himself.
Sagara Sanosuke was almost perfection. The wait for intercourse had proven this even, as it showed Sano's dedication and determination, and his newfound patience. Sano had always had the beauty, the strength, the passion, and the heart, but the hardship of losing hope and love had coalesced something in him, had given him the few attributes he had lacked for Saitou to love him. This Sanosuke had resolve, purpose, and an understanding of reality that escaped so many and that so many fled from. The Battousai himself had refused to learn what Sano knew now; that some things don't happen, some dreams don't come true, some lives do not end happily ever after (though sometimes they do).
"You should go to bed now; you need the rest. I will be in soon."
Saitou had waited a very long time to find Tokio, though he hadn't realized it until she had appeared and shown him, and he had waited just as long to find Sanosuke. Now he had the shadow of one in the other--two companions where he'd once had none. Saitou was not a lonely man, but now he had no fear that loneliness might ever overtake him. Even should Sanosuke, for all his promise and strength, die or leave, he would have already given Saitou a new wealth of strength. Saitou believed in his country, but in the sewers where he dwelt to clean up the rats and scum, the gift of a lantern, burning with the intensity of Tokio or the ferocity of Sanosuke, was invaluable.
"Okay. Night, Hajime."
After Sanosuke shuffled off through the doorway and down the hall, Saitou rested his pen on the edge of the table. He rubbed his eyes and pushed the papers into a neat pile to the side, promising to hand what little work remained on them to some subordinate in the morning. Right now, he needed his sleep and a warm body.
Walking down the hallway his lover had just passed through, he reminded himself to find out when Sano's birthday was; it wasn't included in any of the police records available. He wanted to know as soon as possible to avoid missing it, but wondered if there was a way he could extract the information without being forced to give up his own anniversary. Saitou cringed to think of what devious and malicious plans Sano might come up with to celebrate an old man's birthday.
Saitou put those thoughts aside when he slid open the bedroom door--no one who was able to look that ridiculous while sleeping could possibly be too devious.
Sanosuke never simply lay down; he sprawled, draped, stretched, and flopped. His hair became a wild animal and the snores emanating from his mouth only heightened the illusion. The assortment of limbs in odd places and the facial expressions that changed with every dream and shift never failed to make Saitou want to laugh aloud. The way his lover slept, dignity was not an option. This was the real reason Saitou always preferred it when Sanosuke went to bed before he did.
Saitou never tired of being able to lie down next to his unconscious partner, rearrange the tangle of body parts to a more comfortable position for both of them, and simply look at his Sanosuke. It startled him to think that this impressive man in his arms was the same child who had shown nothing but wasted talent and reckless innocence when they had first met. The same fool who had spent his energy learning a gaudy new trick with his fists, instead of going back to the basics of defence. The same useless boy he'd left behind in the inferno of Shishio's fortress.
Now everything about Sano was precious and beloved. Useful and necessary. From his soft eyes to his bad drinking habit, everything he was made him Sanosuke. Saitou would have composed poetry about his lover if he thought it would capture even a fourth of its inspiration, but he refrained. The words that flew through his head, romantic and ridiculous, only applied when they were silent. Sano was too much an anomaly of beauty, an undefined creature of perfection, that to describe his unpredictable, willful charms and handsomeness aloud, a new language would be required. Only the mind could safely imagine a way to verbally illustrate this sweet mix of rebel, punk, free spirit, friend, boy, and man.
Words were unnecessary--Saitou was content to watch, love and smile; hold his sleeping lover; and wish him happy dreams. Saitou's own dreams had come true.
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Final Author's Note: It's done! Really really really done. I've posted this on the one year anniversary of the posting of the first chapter. My god, I work slowly. ^_^ I hope everyone enjoyed this romp (sappy as it is. . .) and found that it wasn't too clichéd after all. Heh, no feedback questions this time.
I probably shouldn't dig myself into a hole of obligations (any more than I already have), but I will say that sometime in the far future, I may write a sequel to this just because it would be nice to work with these two as an established couple. Get-together fics get old.
One last note before I post the timeline (not necessary, but I thought that since I made so much use of it, someone might like to see it), check out the RK yaoi RPG I am in! Game is here: www.livejournal.com/community/rk_onigokko and Archive is here: hardboiledwonderland.org/onigokko/
** ** **
FIC TIMELINE
- 1873 - Saitou Hajime and Takagi Tokio are wed**
- 1877 - Saitou Hajime assumes the name of Fujita Gorou and becomes a spy for the police**
- May 1878 - (early) Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke meet; (mid) Shishio Makoto is defeated and Saitou Hajime 'dies'
- June 1878 - (mid) Sagara Sanosuke's dreams begin
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- January 1879 - (early) Saitou Tokio dies of lung disease
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- March 1879 - (mid) events of 1.1
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- May 1879 - (mid) Saitou Hajime quits smoking
- June 1879 - (late) events of 2.1 and 2.2: Sagara Sanosuke's dreams stop, but he falls into a depression
- July 1879 - (early) Sagara Sanosuke recovers and is employed by Shimohira Tobei
- August 1879 - (mid) rumours of a "high and mighty asshole" cop coming to Tokyo begin
- September 1879 - (early) Tsukioka Katsuhiro confirms news of Saitou Hajime's impending return to Tokyo
- October 1879 - (late) events of 3.1: Saitou Hajime returns to Tokyo
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- January 1880 - (mid) events of 3.2
- February 1880 - (mid) events of 3.3: Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke come to an understanding and decide to attempt a relationship
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- April 1880 - (late) Saitou Hajime and Sagara Sanosuke consummate their relationship
- May 1880 - (early) events of 4.1
**historically accurate
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