Tokio perked up as she heard the latch on the door lift. She quickly measured out one last pinch of spice, adding it to the top of the fish before covering it. Today was the day that Chou was coming to dinner. She'd been preparing for it all day, cleaning the house extra well and preparing a special dinner. She'd even made Aiji stay outside to play to keep him from accidentally messing things up, and the boy had cheerfully helped her to clear the leaves off of the walkway and make sure that the outdoor area around the house was neat. With Saito being so cautious about his work, it was a rare occurance when they entertained guests. Even some of the women that she had known for years were not allowed to come to the house unless Saito had performed a thorough background check on them and their families. Now they were not only having a guest, but an important one – someone who worked alongside her husband day in and day out.
She hastily straightened out her kimono has she rushed to the door, met by the sight of her husband. Alone. She peered around him, but saw no sign of the guest that she'd been expecting. Saito ignored her look, coming up to the porch and taking off his jacket.
"Where is he?" Tokio asked expectantly.
"Hello to you, too," Saito replied grumpily.
"Where's Chou?" Tokio insisted stubbornly. Saito shrugged, handing his jacket to her and unbuttoning his uniform.
"He was moving too slowly. I left him in the woods somewhere. I suspect he'll manage to find his way here by tonight, unless he's even more of an idiot than I first believed."
Tokio could only stare at her husband. Saito stared back for a moment before he could no longer hold it back. He smirked, one corner of his mouth twitching up.
"I'm joking. He's outside with Eiji."
Tokio slapped her husband playfully when he pulled her in for a kiss. She finally giggled as he refused to let her go without returning some affection. She kissed him lightly, running her fingers through his hair. Saito froze, sensing his danger just seconds before Tokio frowned at him.
"I thought I told you to get your hair cut today," she said, holding onto the longer hairs that should have been absent, refusing to let go of him now just as he had done to her a moment ago. Saito growled, finally squirming out of his wife's grip.
"I was busy. I don't see why I need it cut anyway."
"You look like a Mongol, and we have a guest!"
"He sees me like this every day, Tokio…"
"Go get changed and then I'll give you a trim on the porch."
Saito grumbled, but when he emerged from his bedroom a short while later, he could see Tokio out on the porch, laying out some of her knives while an admiring Chou stood nearby, inspecting the blades lustfully. Saito crept out, slamming the door shut and watching with pleasure as the sound made Chou jump.
Chou took a step backwards almost instinctively as the shoji screen slid shut with a bang. If the sudden noise hadn't startled him into backing off, then Saito's glare certainly would have. The yellow, predatorial eyes didn't leave Chou as his boss sat down in front of the woman whose small knife collection Chou had been admiring.
Tokio knelt behind her husband, draping a bit of cloth over his broad shoulders before she carefully began to slice the ends of his shaggy hair with a couple of her knives. Chou cautiously took a seat on the porch, watching with a grin.
"So, this is where the Wolf of Mibu comes to get his fur trimmed," Chou chuckled.
"She could make quick work of that broom you call hair," Saito snapped back, though he was swiftly silenced by a playful thwap on the head. Tokio turned and smiled at Chou, her eyes bright with excitement.
"Go ahead and let yourself into the dining room, Chou," Tokio said cheerfully. "Make yourself comfortable. We'll be in shortly."
Chou nodded politely, letting himself into the house. It was immaculately clean, and the air moved freely through it. The smell of fish and rice wafted through the air tantalizingly. A few paintings were hung here and there, simple ones of things like flowers and mountains. A few pieces of painted pottery were displayed on small tables in various alcoves. Despite the Westernization of the country, the Saito household maintained a very traditional tone.
Chou found his way to the dining room. Like the other rooms he had seen, it was impeccable, the low table's surface shining. The cushions were all carefully matched, though two of the four looked slightly deflated with use.
The door on the opposite side of the room slid open, and the owners of the immaculate home entered. Chou couldn't help but smile. Eiji, the boy he'd met outside, came dashing in with Tokio chasing after him. Saito ducked into the room after them, rubbing the back of his neck irritably where his hair, shaggy from the trip to Kyoto, was now neatly trimmed. Tokio and Eiji disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. Saito appraised Chou for a moment, then, with a derisive "hmph," the tall superior plopped down onto one of the cushions.
"Don't just stand there, moron. And put your swords with your shoes. Tokio has no tolerance for weapons at the dinner table."
Chou did as ordered, and by the time he returned to the dining room, the entire family had been seated. Saito and Eiji had taken their places on the worn cushions across from each other, while Tokio knelt next to her husband, dishing steaming cuts of fish onto his plate alongside the rice. Chou couldn't help but feel drawn to her. The long sleeves of her kimono had been tied back as she served, revealing a rather deep scar on her left arm. She had tied her hair back, and the face that emerged from the black locks was flushed with the domestic excursions of preparing dinner. Chou shook himself, finally taking his seat. Tokio was by his side immediately, picking out the remaining choice pieces of fish and setting them on his plate. Chou couldn't take his eyes off of her. Tokio glanced up at him, looking a bit surprised at his obvious admiration, but she only offered a small smile and took the serving tray over to Eiji's plate.
Once everyone had been served, they finally began to eat. Saito ate in silence. Across from him, Eiji also ate carefully and silently, quite different from the excited, playful boy he had been when Chou had seen him outside. The only one who didn't appear to be at a funeral rather than a dinner was Tokio. She knelt across from Chou, watching him eat while the few scraps that were left to her grew cold.
"How do you like it, Chou-sama?" Tokio asked after a few moments.
"It's real good, Miss Saito, thanks," Chou responded. "It's been a real long time since I've gotten a home-cooked meal. I forgot how good it can be."
"Oh?" Tokio inquired. "Doesn't your wife cook for you?"
Saito coughed, apparently choking on some rice. He shot a look at his wife, but she was carefully keeping her gaze away from him. Chou merely chuckled.
"I ain't got a wife, Miss Tokio," he answered.
Chou caught the look between husband and wife. Tokio was all smiles, blissfully ignoring the piercing glare coming from her counterpart.
"It must be exhausting coming home after work and having to cook for yourself and mind the house by yourself."
Chou shook his head, swallowing another piece of fish.
"The government pays for my room in one of the inns, and I usually just eat there."
A mild look of horror overcame Tokio. Saito had fixed her with a hard stare, but she genuinely didn't seem to notice. Eiji glanced at his adoptive parents, then quietly excused himself, taking his empty plate to the kitchen. Saito cleared his throat, but Tokio spoke up before he had a chance to say anything.
"Well, I think that's just absurd. A single room for a grown man, and eating at an inn every day. Especially for someone as important as a police officer! Surely you must have some other place to go, someone who's willing to take you in…"