Well I'm floored. Didn't expect six review from you people...especially since some of you aren't even Saitou/Misao! (You won't hear me complain though).

This is my second drabble for the community 10snuggles and it features theme ten (gifts). I have a vague idea about what it's going to be about but don't be surprised if this thing writes itself in the end.

Oh well...enjoy! Don't forget to review either...reviews make this author happy. (I have a feeling I'm addicted to them so humor me please)


Disblaimer: The characters of RK aren't mine and I, really, think Nobuhiro Watsuki would have a heart attack if he saw my couple choices! grins


The Perfect Gift
By Royal blueKitsune

Well, if this wasn't annoying she didn't know what was.

Misao fingered the silk kimono put on display with something akin to mild fascination and then smothered her palm down its length slowly. It was pure silk and a blue so vibrant it reminded her of Kaoru's eyes.

She might've been raised as a ninja in the Oniwabanshu, but that didn't mean that she didn't appreciate the beauty of kimonos. Before anything she was a woman and she loved pretty things...especially if she could wear it on her first anniversary with her husband and surprise him.

That was a bonus Misao could actually look forward too. That and thoroughly seducing her husband.

The woman behind the counter was cheerful, servile and too saccharine for her taste but if it got her that kimono, Misao was going to smile and bear it. Really, Hajime was too well known in Kyoto...couldn't she actually go anywhere without people having to step on each other to serve her?

The parcel was safely tucked in the sleeve of her kimono and Misao passed through the policemen accompanying her without as much as a word.

Couldn't she go anywhere without these two idiots following her either?

Yes, Misao felt rebellious because Saitou treated her like a porcelain doll.

Yes, she knew that he loved her and didn't want anything to happen to her because of his position and reputation in the Bakumatsu...Misao was very much aware that she was his weakness just like Kaoru was Kenshin's and damn it she could fend for herself.

No, she didn't like her daily guards better than she liked pigs swimming in mud. Mainly because they were, in fact, no better than pigs; they had been assigned to protect her for only a week and already Misao felt her patience snapping viciously.

She felt dirty, exposed and oh so snappy...actually she was just waiting for a wrong word, an inappropriate gesture to bash their heads into the nearest wall.

Then again she could just go to Hajime and let him know what the bastards were up to. Her sea green eyes sparkled vividly and Misao allowed herself a slightly malicious smile. It wasn't if, it wasn't maybe...it was sure that her husband would maim them beyond recognition.

Sometimes she just loved how possessive he was of her. It was enough for him to gaze at her with those piercing amber eyes for her toes to curl and her stomach to fall to her feet. Many interesting things usually followed such looks too.

Misao blushed despite herself and ducked into the little shop to her left expertly, thankful that the two brutes behind her couldn't see her flaming face now.

She had passed by this place many times and was familiar with the kind, old swordsmith and his family. This wasn't an eye-catching place, nor was it the least bit well-known place in all of Kyoto but it was the only place Misao could shop without being stopped by a group of gossiping acquaintances.

It hadn't been long after marrying Saitou that Misao had discovered Kyoto's high society was rich, fickle and full of snobs who had nothing to do but gossip about the latest news. Her husband always, somehow, ended up being mixed in it because he was one of Kyoto's finest police officers.

Wherever there was a brawl or a serious conflict, her husband was sure to be.

How ironic. They avoided Hajime like the plague, he was a feared man by many, but they sucked up to his wife -her- to get into his good graces.

Ah but she was forgetting herself again...she was here to buy a sword for Saitou as an anniversary gift and she had the perfect one in mind.

The katana, hanging on the wall behind the counter, was magnificent and dating a few centuries back. It was one of the few remaining swords made by Goro Nyudo, known best as Masamune and widely recognized as Japan's greatest swordsmith.

Masamune's swords were rare, according to the swordsmith, and well characterized by the rich, dark and golden lines present on the sword surface and by the bright crystals on the temper pattern along the blade edge. They had been made in peaceful times and very hard to find because of their fine heritage.
How could a sword with such elaborate history not impress Misao? Especially since she had grown among people whose daily occupation revolved around fighting and learning how to use dangerous weapons?

And because her husband was such a practical man, the petite ninja was quite sure that she was making a good choice.

It was worth seeing his shocked expression. His eyebrows would furrow in surprise, His eyes would glint and widen just a fraction in surprise...then his lips would tilt upwards in the faintest of smiles when the surprise faded and he would treat her to one of those slow, deliberate kisses that made her think of chocolate and fire.

Abruptly the swordsmith cleared his throat and Misao flush bright red realizing that she had been daydreaming...again.

"I presume that you have come for the sword Fujita-san. If you will wait a minute, I will have it ready for you."

He didn't wait for her to say anything but simply turned and went in the back, leaving Misao with the two idiots -God but she had spent too much time with Hajime- whom were snickering behind her quietly.

"What would you need a sword for Fujita-sama?" The policeman who had spoken kept his voice mild but Misao's training quickly caught the undertone beneath it.

Her lips pulled into a thin line and her eyes threw hot sparks, focusing on some invisible spot in front of her.

As soon as she got out of this store, Misao had every intention of seeing the sharp edge of the sword was as sharp as everyone made it out to be...yes that sounded lovely. Then she could go to her husband and tell him the truth and hopefully threaten him with sleeping on an extra futon if he sent guards with her ever again.

True to his word the old man returned quickly, the sword wrapped and carefully held in his hands, and Misao almost felt the tension seep out of her. The newfound happiness bloomed as she completed her purchase, increased when the swordsmith told her that her husband was going to be proud to receive such a gift and by the time Misao was finally out of the store she was ready to smile radiantly.

Pity her happiness was only short-lived. The petite woman blinked slowly and raised her eyes to the -literally- mountain of a man who had appeared out of nowhere in front of her. He was probably as tall as Sanosuke, if not Hiko; just as broadly built too...

...Misao suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"Are you the wife of Miburo Wolf? The one that goes by the name of Fujita Goro?" The man's voice was menacing and he took a step forward, completely overshadowing her. Misao wasn't sure that her eyes were as wide as she thought; she was, however, sure that her face was either flushed brightly or as white as a sheet.

'Oh hell. Not this...not now.'

The reaction was immediate and she swung the sheathed sword with as much power as her arms could muster, slamming it into his chest. He slid back a few inches and Misao took the opportunity to try to run past him, hoping silently that her feet didn't get tangled in the fold of the restricting kimono.

They didn't. Instead the man's fist caught her soundly in the stomach with such force that Misao felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes. Stars danced before her and then the world was blissfully black.


It was beyond comprehension. It really was.

Saitou lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, feeling the tension between his shoulder blades pulse and coil dangerously tight. Only his men could pretend to be police officers and actually get away with it...the same went with the paperwork they were supposed to do.

Sooner or later it all fell down on his shoulders simply because his men were incompetent idiots who couldn't even understand plain indications. And to think that he could be doing so many other thing right now - like spending time with his spitfire of a wife and celebrating their anniversary like any normal couple would.

Of course, a wolf and a weasel were never normal but that was really beyond the point. Saitou scowled and his eyes turned liquid steel as something crashed outside and a startled shout followed almost immediately.

If stupidity had been a sin, Saitou might've considered running the incompetent fools through his katana and putting a stop to the ruckus going on outside.

They sounded like headless chickens. More than their usual selves.

Just to prove that this utterly useless day spent in the office could get worse, the door flew out of its hinges and somewhere out of Saitou's sight to reveal two very panicked police officers.

'Who ruffled your feathers?' Saitou thought dryly, half amused, half annoyed at the sudden intrusion...not to mention that they now owed him a new door too.

"Have you finally lost your minds?"

The men paled even further and all started sputtering at the same time; whatever it was, he had no idea. He didn't speak gibberish.

"You better have a good reason for breaking my door down or I will personally see that you are in charge of doing community work for the next month. And I don't believe that saving 'kittens' from trees will appeal to anyone." Saitou rose abruptly and splayed his hands on the mahogany desk, towering menacingly over his men.

"Inspector Fujita..." Idiot number one almost tripped on his words in his hurry.

"Kojo-san and Hatake-san were attacked and badly beaten in the square." Idiot number two suddenly interfered hastily, gulping visibly in fright.

'Those names sound familiar...'

"Your wife..."

The first idiot didn't even have the opportunity to continue before everything clicked in Saitou's head and his eyes glinted dark amber.

"What happened to my wife?" The words were growled lowly and the two men felt their knees buckle at the same time.

"Fujita-san, she..."

Fujita Goro wasn't frightening now. He was downright demonic, very pissed of and suddenly towering over them dangerously close; the men hadn't even realized how or when he had moved to stand in front of them but they sure as hell noticed when his gloved hands wrapped around their necks and slammed them back into the wooden wall.

"Where..." Saitou's voice took on a deeper timbre and his hands applied slightly more pressure. "...is my wife?"


Awakening from a knockout was a painful, groggy event that Misao really wished she could avoid more often. Unfortunately that didn't help her seeing that she knew the type of people she knew and she had ended up marrying one of them too.

Her eyes opened slowly, cautiously, and she took in the dimly lit warehouse and the five men sitting around a small fire a few feet away...or the sitting ducks as she liked to call them these days. After all, they had dared touch something that belonged to the Mibu's Wolf -not that they were the first to try- and tried to get away with it.

Misao assessed the situation as fast as her weary mind allowed her to. She had been unconscious for several hours, her feet and arms were tied with a triple knot to a metal pole, she was gagged, her kimono was ripped in several places and hiking up her thighs to show a good portion of leg.

She flushed in embarrassment and shifted in a desperate effort to hide herself. The last thing she needed was to entice anyone into doing something she'd rather not think about. Unfortunately, her efforts were futile and proved only to attract the attention she had been trying to avoid.

"No use struggling missy. Those bonds were made to hold..." The man who had spoken was small and possessed gaunt features, so much unlike the muscle packed men sitting next to him quietly. He leered at her and Misao felt her stomach drop to her feet. "You may be a pretty little thing but I doubt that you could break out even if you wanted."

It was hard, but Misao forced herself to appear calm and completely collected. She would've wanted to glare at them but the lust dancing in their eyes -some didn't even bother to hide it from her at all- was enough to send her into a fit of panic.

'He's coming, he's coming...he'll be here in time. Damn it! This isn't helping. Where is Hajime when you need him?'

The little man, obviously the brain on the group, raised an eyebrow at her display of bravery and moved forward to peer down at her inquisitively.

"You're a feisty little thing are you? Gein told me that you packed a mean punch and that you tried to shove a sword in his stomach. Such bad manners coming from a lady of high society..."

Oh how Misao wanted to tell him where he could shove that idea.

"Your men were most pathetic though. They begged for their lives as much as they could so I let them go...with a few bruises and cuts of course."

'Well, there's the one thing you did right.'

"I see now why the Miburo Wolf took you for his wife." He continued mildly, taking her all in from head to toe appreciatively. "He couldn't have possibly contented himself with some helpless wench...not that I particularly mind what he does in bed with his woman."

Misao flushed and drilled her green eyes hatefully into his. Why the uncouth bastard! How dare he talk to her like that? If she ever found that sword, she was going to make sushi out of him.

"He might've kept you too if he hadn't interfered with my boss's organization." The man's expression turned hateful and he grabbed her chin forcefully, digging his fingers into her soft skin in such a way that Misao was sure she was going to have bruises by tomorrow.

"Now I'm going to make things even. An eye for an eye...I'm sure that he will exchange my boss for you. Unless he wants to become a widower before time. In which case I'll make sure to send you back to him...or what's left of you after my men are done with you."

Misao cursed him, vicious words muffled through the cloth covering her mouth, and proceeded to pointedly avert her eyes elsewhere in a haughty manner.

'Either you villains are becoming too corny or I've been through too many of these situations. I'd rather commit seppuku rather than to have your men touch me even in the slightest.'

Apparently the man caught tail of her thoughts because he grinned maliciously, the action making him look even more repulsive, and turned to his men to say something...and almost choked when he found two of them missing.

She sincerely hoped he did and was more than willing to make him bite that venomous tongue of his.

"Takeru, Shinji...where are the other two? I told the four of you to stay together all the time." Misao supposed he was trying to appear in charge; he came out sounding like a squealing pig and she had a hard time trying to not to snort with laughter.

"They heard a noise and went to check it...said they'd be back in a few moments."

That hit a spot. Misao smiled beneath her makeshift gag, unable to hide the glee from showing in her expressive eyes. On the other side, her assaulter suddenly turned such a pale color that she wondered if he was going to collapse at any moment. The petite ninja was going to give him credit for knowing what was happening...or who was happening.

The temperature dropped a few degrees and all the men in the room stiffened visibly, feeling the chill to the bone. It was obvious to Misao -from her husband's ki- that he was highly pissed and very ready to shed some blood.

"Who's there? Show yourself." Gein jumped to his feet and drew his sword, looking very much like a hunted rabbit. His partner wasn't in much better shape and the slight tremble in their arms was visible to Misao even in the dim light.

These men couldn't possibly hope to think that they could take her husband could they? The notion was preposterous.

"You made me search for you long and tiring hours." The voice, though quiet, held an underlining of anger and steel. "You took my wife and tied her up like some sort of animal."

Saitou stepped out of the shadows, golden eyes gleaming with unspoken malice.

"You treated her like some sort of loose woman and dared to hurt her. All for the sake of a corrupt bastard who would rather deserve to die than be let out in society."

The rasp of the sword was audible in the silence as the Mibu's Wolf took a fighting stance. Misao couldn't help but notice that her husband was looking a little ragged and worn out...it was something only a person who had known him long enough could notice. His mussed clothes and slightly ruffled hair betrayed the usual orderly style Saitou had.

It hurt her to know that he had worn himself out searching for her for so long.

"And for that, I will make sure you suffer."

He moved with lightning speed -the speed of the Miburo Wolf- catching his opponents off guard and finishing their pathetic defense in a matter of seconds. Actually, her attackers were on the ground before Misao could blink.

Then, of course, was the awkward silence. Misao stared at the straight, ramrod back of her husband and wondered if he was going to stare at the mangled bodies in front of him any longer.

Or if he was waiting for her to just be mad at him and consider him guilty for her current situation. Maybe he was brooding silently?

"I was hoping we could spend our anniversary in a slightly more suitable place than this one." Misao's voice was dry, her gag pulled halfway down with the use of her teeth, and she tried to shift into a less painful position. "But since we're here anyway, would you just untie me?"

Her words seemed to break the trance Saitou was in, because he calmly turned from the gruesome sight and strode towards her with an indescribable expression written on his face.

The bonds were tough to untie but as Hajime gently brushed his fingers over the wounds on her wrists and ankles, Misao was sure that her husband's eyes didn't darken because of such a meager process. She didn't fight when his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into his chest nor did she fight when he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her soundly, passionately...possessively.

"You're going to give me gray hairs by the time we're old." Hajime's voice was gruff but Misao only smiled softly and caressed the side of his face tenderly. He didn't protest and Misao grinned cattily.

"I certainly hope not. I like my husband handsome and young." The petite woman frowned and looked around uncertainly, biting her lips out of habit.

"Stop doing that or I'll decide that I really do want to spend my anniversary night here."

Misao blushed prettily and clung to her husband's neck as he lifted her bridal style and turned to leave.

"Just one more thing Hajime. Could you please put me down? I forgot something here."

The stare her husband gave her clearly indicated that he couldn't believe that she'd want to pick something up from this dump; and since Misao couldn't actually make her husband put her down, she was forced to give him directions and try not to embarrass herself...too much.

Her gift was still in good shape and the idiots hadn't even bothered to unwrap the cloth to see what was underneath it.

"Have you been shopping Misao? Again?"

Saitou's expression was faintly amused and his lips quirked at the corner when his wife smiled innocently enough and gestured for him to put her down immediately.

"It's for you anyway. I had hoped to give you this as an anniversary gift earlier but now is just as good time as any other."

Watching him unwrap the gift and unsheathe the sword halfway, Misao was suddenly feeling shy and nervous. What if it didn't suit his tastes? Worse yet, what if he didn't need a sword and she would only end up embarrassing herself in the process?

"This is...authentic?"

The slight hesitation in his voice made Misao blink in faint surprise. If she didn't know better, she could've sworn that Saitou was genuinely surprised by her unusual gift. Hope bloomed in her chest and she nodded enthusiastically, proceeding to relate all the available details...well at least she tried but it seemed that her husband had other ideas.

Ideas that included kissing her senseless and then some more. Some more that, obviously, didn't have any place in an abandoned warehouse in the company of unconscious -at least she hoped they were- men who could wake up at any moment.

She sighed.

Life was never boring with her husband around.

End


Oh my Heavens it's done! (falls over) I love life and muses! Did I mention that the characters came out a little OOC? They did...but it was fun!

(Clears throat) Please tell me if anything is wrong with it. I was pretty stressed and rushed when I wrote this -the deadline for 10snuggles was approaching fast- so I might've done a few things wrong here and there!

Don't forget to review. Makes me happy!