Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, Saitou, Tokio or anything within their world

I know this has been done before in many different forms, but I had to add my own little contribution to the world of Saitou/Tokio fanfic. I haven't decided yet if I'll make this longer, or keep it as just a one shot of her musings...

I stand quietly against the doorway, watching him. He hasn't noticed me yet, and I'm not sure I want to announce my presence. He's getting ready to go out again, to who knows where this time.

This is the way it's always been, he leaves on unspoken about business, and I try to stay out of it. At social events I hold his arm, the perfect image of a model, smiling wife. Here at home I make sure everything runs smoothly for when he does come back. He loves me, in his own understated way, but I want him to realize I'm stronger then he thinks.

I know what he has done, what he still does. Even if he thinks he's kept the worst details from me I know the kind of things they still send him to do. I know from the way he comes home covered in blood, his and others. I know from the feral gleam in his eyes when he first returns. Every day he walks side by side with death, flirting with it, taunting it, challenging it to take him. So far he's won every time, but a person can't play those kinds of games, and expect to keep walking away. Although I would never say it out loud, the thought frightens me.

Because even if it does not sound proper or dignified, I adore him. I love him with an all-encompassing, wild, jealous love. His enemies are mine and I would without a second thought kill anyone who tried to take him from me, or die trying.

But he doesn't know that I would do anything for him. To protect his honor. To protect him. He will never know. The Wolf of Mibu doesn't need the protection of a woman. He turns, seeing me for the first time, and gives a slight acknowledging nod, questioning look on his face. When I say nothing he turns back again, buttoning his jacket.

I know what he's capable of; that he can take care of himself. But I worry every time he leaves. But he doesn't know. When he returns, I try not to make a fuss over each new wound he inevitably has. For a man like him, such behavior is weakness, something he despises.

Possibly, if I asked though, would he stay? All I want is for him to stay with me, just for tonight. Must his duties always come first?

Finishing with his uniform jacket he straightens. All that's left is the Katana. Crossing into the room I pick it up and hold it out to him, but I don't let go as his hand closes around it. His fingers slid further down, brushing mine. I look up, and for a brief moment our eyes meet. Neither of us says anything, but sometimes more can be said without words.

He wouldn't stay. No matter what I say to him, he won't stay. And I wouldn't ask it of him. He is a good man, a good husband and father, but his thoughts are not here. He is a Wolf, and wolves must follow the hunt.

My hand slips silently from the sheath.

My eyes follow his movements as he attaches it, then turns away from me again, towards the door. I look up, things I wanted to say rising in my chest. I wanted to tell him to be careful, that I love him, to please, no matter what else happens, to come back. That without him I would be lost. But none of these things will come out as I watch him leaving.

"Saitou?" I hear my voice ring out suddenly in the silent room.

His head turns back, amber eyes regarding me with curiosity. "Hn?"

I open my mouth slightly, but nothing comes out. Anything I wanted to say, he'd probably only see as the foolish ramblings of an emotional woman. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight; I'm not usually like this. I just shake my head.

"It's nothing."

He looks at me for a moment longer, before turning forward again. Before he did I caught the brief hint of a smile, not his usual self-righteous or predatory smirk, but a genuine smile, the one he saves only for his family.

The door slides open quietly, then closed again behind his retreating back, leaving behind the faint lingering scent of tobacco and his cigarettes.

He will be back. It's all I can do, wait here and hold onto that hope that he will return to me. I know that one day he won't, I just pray it's not tonight.

I sit alone, long into the night

Somewhere in the dark the night grows colder. A life grows short.

The Wolf is on the hunt.

And I wait.