Heh heh… first and foremost, sorry about the delay… I was busy applying for my University of choice (huh, what choice?). So anyway, I wrote all this at one sitting, so it probably sucks quite badly. Eh… don't be mad with me… please?

Rurouni Kenshin does not belong to me.

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Saitou was perched on his sofa. Generally, this was a rather pleasing place to be for the former Shinsengumi captain. However, today was a little different; the discrepancy being in that his wife was sitting on his office chair and reading his reports with a look of concentration on her face.

"My most beloved wife," he began, trying to think of the appropriate way to phrase his words, "There is really no need for you to burden your lovely shoulders with my work. I assure you I am most capable of reading all my reports."

"I am sure, My Lord," his wife replied with a stately nod of the head, "Only you take such a long time to finish your work, such that you are barely ever home. Thus, I have decided that the only way to avoid that is to come here and share your work with you." She made a brief clucking noise with her tongue as she circled something (probably a mistake) on the paper. Saitou briefly smirked in anticipation at the demise of one of his less efficient subordinates.

"Well yes…" Saitou smoked his cigarette hungrily, "But dear, what about the children? Surely you cannot leave them all alone at home…"

"Oh, the only one at home now is Eiji. The rest have gone over to Mother's. Eiji is really such an independent boy. Surely he does not need my care?" She smiled sweetly and Saitou resisted the urge to scowl miserably.

"But surely," he hesitated, "surely he needs a mother's care? A woman's touch?"

"I would say," she agreed, "but this place needs it more." She passed a disapproving glance over the stacks of papers and cigarette stains.

Saitou froze. He could sense it coming on (all husbands could) – the most destructive force ever known to men. A woman's desire to clean up. Soon, it would sweep through his office, tidying up every single inch of his deliberately dirtied and messed up office, and restoring it to its original shine and colour.

"My most beloved…"

"Get me a broom, a bucket of water and cloth," Tokio ordered, standing up and starting to pull up her sleeves, "I think it is about time I did something about this disgraceful mess."

"Darling," Saitou broke in, deciding to assert his male dominance, "I absolutely forbid you to tidy up my office! Which man has a clean and tidy office with a proper vase of fresh flowers? It is unnatural! It is impersonal! It is a true disgrace!"

"My lord…"

"No," Saitou said firmly, "I will not fetch you a broom, a bucket of water or cloth! This is a man's office! You should know your place woman! When your husband says nay, it remains nay! Now go home and make dinner before I get angry!"

There was a tensed silence then Tokio slowly nodded. "I see. My lord, you would insist that as a woman, I know my place."

"Yes!" Saitou snapped.

"You would insist that you will not fetch me the items that I have requested you fetch for me."

"Well… yes…"

"And you would have me go home and make dinner or face your wrath."

"Eh… well… yes…" Saitou twiddled his fingers with the strange sinking feeling that he was digging his own grave.

"I see."

To his sheer relief, Tokio started to move for the door. He sank back onto the sofa, feeling a sense of achievement. There was absolutely no man or woman on this entire earth who could tame a Miburo. That was a fact, and he had just proven it. For the first time in his entire life, he had subdued his headstrong wife with his manly dominance and immovability. He was now the true head of the household, the strongest wolf in his pack! Unlike his nemesis (a certain hitokiri gone red), he would not be beaten by a mere woman!

"Oh, just one thing, my lord," Tokio said, pausing at the door.

"Yes, my love?" Saitou asked generously.

"Gatotsu," Tokio replied sweetly, and charged him with a spade in hand.

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The stage was set, the acoustics were fixed and the script had been rehearsed to perfection. It was time to start the first case the pair will work on since joining the honourable defendants of peace, justice and free meals.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Soujirou chirped, discovering instantly that he had an unnatural gift for public-speaking. "Come one! Come all! Come, come and witness the fun! Today, we shall have things done! Come one! Come all!"

Almost instantly, a crowd started to form around the make-shift stage that Enishi and Soujirou had gotten together.

"What's up?" someone from the crowd roared.

"We're looking for husbands for these five young ladies," Enishi began then hesitated when members of the crowd began to trail away.

"Which includes a lot of humiliation, insults and mockery of those potential husbands!" Soujirou piped up. If it was even possible, the crowd suddenly grew even larger than previously.

"Anyway," Enishi growled, "We shall need five young bachelors, preferably between the age of twenty to twenty-five, with good looks, money and… eh… eh… a lot of… eh… well… stamina." He cleared his throat embarrassedly and glared at sister number one who smiled back blankly. "The first round shall have these five bachelors vying for the hand of Sister 1!" There was the splattering of claps, cheers and wolf-calls the Sister 1 walked out to the centre of the 'stage', looking demurely down at her sandals.

"You there!" Soujirou cried, pointing at someone in the crowd. "You look like you fit all three categories! Come on up!" He plunged into the mass of human bodies, fighting towards his startled prey with an enthusiasm of a man who believes he needs to work to earn his pay.

"And you!" Enishi called, pointing at someone near the stage. "Come on up!" He gestured with a finger and a fierce glare as was fitting of a man who believes that his glare moves the world.

"And you!" Soujirou yelped.

"And you!" Enishi snarled.

"And YOU!" they cried together, gesturing to the same person.

"Excellent, excellent," Soujirou said, giggling wickedly, much to the distress of the five chosen bachelors, "now, let's earn ourselves some beef ramen. The first round would include a question and answer session between Sister 1 and the potential suitors! Sister 1, please?"

Her face beaming with excitement, Sister 1 stepped forward and cleared her throat softly. "Now, Bachelor Number One," she asked softly, "do you think strength is better or stamina?"

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"What is this nonsense?" Saitou demanded, peering down at his two subordinates with his one good eye. His single-eyed glare gave no room for excuses.

"Well," Soujirou began, "there were these five young ladies who needed husbands immediately, so we got them five brand new husbands. This is their way of showing their appreciation." He beamed and held up the bowl of beef ramen he was currently eating as an example.

Saitou muttered angrily under his breath. "That was not what I meant," he explained with the tone of a person trying to get a retard to understand a very simple concept, "I meant, why were the two of you escorted back to headquarters by a mob." To emphasise his point, he gestured wildly at the crowd of men holding an impromptu demonstration outside.

"Oh…" Soujirou smiled absent-mindedly, "That would be the suitors who failed. It turns out the five young ladies were very, very rich."

"I see." Saitou scowled. "Trust the two of you to get up to all sorts of trouble when I am not around to keep an eye on you. From now onwards, I would have to follow both of you on patrol all the time."

"You don't appear to have much of a choice," Enishi noted, eyeing the mass of commotion from inside Saitou's office, "What's going on in there?"

Hesitation flickered over Saitou's face then he cleared his throat and in an excellent act of nonchalance, remarked, "My dear wife has decided to clean up my office for me. I was of course, kind enough to loan her fifteen men to complete the job. Mustn't overtax my most beloved wife now, right?" He coughed into his hand and made a show of looking angrily at the noisy mob outside.

"Gee," Soujirou noted, slurping up the ramen enthusiastically, "I never realised the walls of your office were white, Saitou-san."

"I never noticed either," Saitou said curiously, peering over Soujirou's head, "I always thought that they were brown."

"Me too," Enishi agreed, "And I never knew your table was black."

"Yes… I always thought it was green. How curious."

"And I never knew your table wasn't supposed to be covered in grass, Saitou-san."

"I never knew either."

"My Lord?" Tokio said, peering dignifiedly out of the doorway, "Would you be so kind as to run down to the shop down the road to buy some firewood? Unfortunately, there appears to be many unexplainable holes in your door which requires fixing."

"Ah… eh… of course, of course," Saitou smiled weakly, "I shall send a runner down immediately."

His wife turned a sharp, penetrating glare at him, worthy of any schoolmistress in Japan. "I believe I specially requested you to run the errand, My Lord?"

"Of course, of course," Saitou replied smoothly, slowly backing off, "I shall go straightaway."

"I would like it back in five minutes of course, or my work will be off schedule."

"Yes, yes… of course."

"My Lord?"

"Yes, my most beloved, dearest, most precious wife?"

"I strongly suggest you run."

"Right, right."

To Soujirou and Enishi's surprise, Saitou disappeared immediately – quite literally.

"I never knew Saitou-san knew Shukuchi," Soujirou commented, feeling quite put down.

"When you have a wife like that," Enishi replied, "I suspect you would learn almost every single bloody running technique in the world without even knowing it."

"Ah." Soujirou and Enishi watched interestedly through the window as Saitou Gatotsu-ed his way through the mob that had gathered at the entrance of the police station. It was particularly fascinating, especially when Saitou sent a protesting man flying within inches of the window the two spectators were at.

"Superb technique," Soujirou remarked admiringly, "The speed, the thrust, the twist of the arm and then – voila - the angle of projectile, all absolutely perfect!"

"Definitely worth taking note of," Enishi grudgingly admitted, "the steps were calculated accurately within a negligible time period. Excellent reflexes, that man."

The sound of someone clearing her throat softly behind them caught their attention, and they turned around to be confronted with the piercing black eyes of a certain Mrs Saitou.

"Would you two happen to be Seta-san and Yukishiro-san?" she inquired politely.

"Eh…" Enishi glared at Soujirou for diplomatic help.

"Yes, ma'am!" Soujirou chirped happily. "I am Seta Soujirou, and this man here is Yukishiro Enishi."

"Ah, my lord has mentioned the both of you several times," Tokio said stately.

"Really, madam?"

"Yes, indeed. Mostly in reference to the execution stage, of course." A feral smile spread across her face. "But where are my manners? I believe I have yet to introduce myself. I am Tokio, wife of Saitou Hajime."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Soujirou said politely.

"The same to you, Seta-san," Tokio replied then swivelled and pinned Enishi with a criticising eye, "Why haven't you said anything now, Yukishiro-san? Cat got your tongue, young man?"

"No, madam, I was merely more content to listen," Enishi replied meekly, a phenomenon so rare it almost stunned Soujirou into silence.

"I see," Tokio replied, smiling demurely, "I have come to speak to the both of you as I have been given to understand that the two of you are my husband's newest recruits."

"Yes, ma'am."

"It is my custom," Tokio went on, "to invite the newer recruits to dinner at my husband's house, where we shall feast and drink together. Can I thus expect the both of you to turn up for dinner at my house tonight?"

"Tonight?" Enishi echoed, his jaw hanging loosely.

"Dinner…"

"At Saitou Hajime's house…"

"With food…"

"Cooked by Saitou Hajime's wife?"

"Feasting…"

"And drinking…"

"With Saitou Hajime…"

"And his wife?"

Soujirou and Enishi stared at each other then simultaneously turned and stared at the feline smile on Tokio's face.

"Sure, we've love to."

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"This is a bad idea," Enishi grumbled as he and Soujirou (and sixty-three men with the ability to travel backwards) gathered outside a plain but smart and neat house set away from the main street.

"I think it is a bad idea too, Yukishiro-san," Soujirou agreed, "but would you have tried to reject that smile?" Both spent two seconds recalling the 'smile' before shivering and pushing the memory away.

"I get what you mean, dumb-ass," Enishi agreed, "but this is definitely not a good idea."

"A bad idea," Soujirou corrected.

"What?"

"An idea that is not good is not necessarily bad, Yukishiro-san. This idea qualifies as a positively bad i… why hello, Tokio-san!" Soujirou burst into a sugary smile as the door slid open suddenly.

"Good evening, Seta-san, Yukishiro-san," she purred, "what were you saying just now, Seta-san?"

"I… eh… well… eh… guy stuff, actually."

"I see." Tokio offered a demure little bow, spoiling the effect by keeping her eyes fixed on their faces, which were twisted into a look of pure terror. "Well then, do come in, my dear guests. It is not healthy to stand in the night wind for too long."

"Eh… thank you," Soujirou said weakly, "you are a very kind host."

"Ah, thank you. You are such a polite man."

"Eh… yes, thank you, you are too kind."

"Oh no, you are too kind, Seta-san."

With the bowing and forced modesty, the two men found themselves inside the house and being ushered into the dining room. At the sight before them, both men started to salivating rapidly.

The floor was laid with a line of steaming, aromatic food, set on five separate plates. Crisp, golden tempura gleamed tantalisingly in the candlelight; brown miso soup swirled, bulging with strands of seaweed and pure, creamy squares of beancurd; tender, pink slices of sashimi decorated ivory plates, glistening in the light; white, crystal grains of rice filled five ebony bowls to the brim; cups of hot, steaming green tea gave off a sweet, grassy aroma.

At the top of the row sat a very grouchy Saitou Hajime.

Soujirou and Enishi stopped salivating immediately.

"Eh… hello, Saitou-san!"

"Yo, boss."

"Sit down," Saitou snapped.

"Please sit down," Tokio corrected, shooting a sharp glare in the direction of her husband.

"Wh… ok, please sit down."

"Eh… thank you."

Soujirou and Enishi took up the last two unoccupied spaces nervously. The fifth place was occupied by a boy who seemed intent on glaring at Soujirou the entire time. It took approximately five seconds for Soujirou to recall the identity of the young boy.

"Oh goodness," Soujirou said brightly, "Aren't you that boy from… eh… that one… eh… what's your name again?"

Something seemed to snap inside the boy, and he leapt to his feet with a murderous look on his face. "I am Mishima Eiji, Seta Soujirou! Your henchman, Sushin killed my brother!" he roared.

With a loud growl, he tore towards Soujirou – and attacked him with a tempura.

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Author's Note: Eh, on Tokio… as you all know, she is a figment of my imagination, so I felt I had to write something about her. I know Saitou is evil, so I thought I would make his wife more evil. (Sorry to those who don't like seeing Saitou get hen-pecked; I think it's rather cute and funny actually.) Yet, she is still a woman of ancient (or… relatively ancient) Japan, so she can't be openly, blatantly evil like Saitou, at least not to people outside her family. Thus, I made her openly evil to Saitou, but subtly evil to others, and I wanted to bring out this contrast, so in comes Enishi and Soujirou torturing!

Ha ha… sorry to those who don't like the way I portrayed Tokio! Personally, I don't think Tokio is really like this. Her character is purely for humour purposes ok? So… don't kill me!