A/N: Sweet Mary mother of god. I haven't stopped writing a single day. This piece really gets my muse going and what's best, gives me inspiration for the other stories, too. So this is what it feels like to get over writer's block. I am so happy.

Now, in this chapter there's a fair bit of history entrewined with the plot and that's anything that refers to the Ikedaya affair. The rest are mine. Also, if anyone is wondering, I have put the Shinsegumi headquarters permanently in Kyoto but members go wherever they are needed which is why Saito was not in Kyoto for a long time and had but one day that he returned in the first chapter.

To those who reviewed faved/alerted, thank you for your kind words; to those I couldn't reply for technical reasons, you should know you really make my day!

This is where I put the disclaimer that I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or its characters; I only own the concept of how Tokio is in this story and all non-existing in the manga/anime characters.

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Two weeks had gone by in a blur. His progress with the loyalist faction, the shishi, was significant: he'd spewed a lot of nonsense, bad-mouthed his own squad and some of his friends, even had to perform with his sword to prove his worth to them, but in the end he was deemed trustworthy; they let him in, in very important meetings. The truth of the matter was that the shishi were preparing a comeback; not two years ago, they were driven to a corner and neared annihilation. Now, they wished to return to Kyoto and recapture their former glory—which was no trivial glory. At the Ikedaya affair, they almost burnt Kyoto to the ground. Almost being the operative word, as Hijikata Toushijou, the demon vice-chief, captured a key member of the loyalists, Shuntaro Furutaka and launched a successful attack to stop their plans.

He respected the vice chief, maybe more than their leader, Kondo Isami. He had his own ways of inspiring fear and getting things done, even without actually doing all the horrible things people thought he did—just thinking something that painful could be done to them, more than just a few blenched. Hijikata was an excellent interrogator after all.

Saitou though wasn't an interrogator; he was an infiltrator. He had to get the information without hurting or extorting the enemy, quite the opposite. He never thought it would be so vexing though, not being able to cut them down. Just listening to them, made him want to snap something in half. He knew not all of the loyalists were like these, but Buddha help him, they were ranked amongst the worst people he had ever met—all but one, who was very mysterious and withdrawn. But he'd never even talk! The rest were so bad they tested his resolve on a daily basis; he figured he should also thank them for increasing his tolerance and patience though.

Truth be told, it wasn't all him that got him through each day; for every torturing hour he spent with those dim-witted men, he spent one minute with her. She was his little ray of sunshine in a grim world. Her curt gestures, her deep voice and her meaningful glances; he could watch her all day. He especially loved the way she would grimace when he called her the usual by now pet name while also noting how accustomed she had become to it. Admittedly, had he not been on this straining mission he'd never have been so focused on this woman – he was bordering obsession –, yet he couldn't help but think he was somehow supposed to meet her.

She must have had a different opinion though; she was more than troubled for their chance meeting and even more improbable continued acquaintance. As if managing the ryokan, keeping an eye on the employees and policing the guests weren't enough, she now had a real policeman there, whose secret she had to protect. Ugh, she hated these convoluted schemes.

Couldn't he just arrest them? They didn't look important enough. It's the inconspicuous that do the most damage though; she knew that. She just couldn't stand it! Fujita Goro, if that was even his real name, was a most infuriating man. But what was worse about him? He would stir…all sorts of emotions within her. And she wasn't sure they were all negative. After all, the thrill of knowing such a big secret, the notion she could be of help or some use to something bigger than herself—it excited her! Other than her own ethics, that was the very reason she set out to capture a killer and a rapist all by herself. It was partly her father's fault, too, for teaching her all those ideals and self-defence techniques.

Of course, ever since the "big reveal" as Saito had dubbed the incident when she found out his true identity in his mind, she was even more defiant.

"Fujita-san," she would greet him politely, but there was an underlying note there hiding behind her smile. She was daring him to speak up – it was more than obvious how her tone aggravated him – challenging him to reveal his true name. Not in front of others, naturally, but maybe tell her privately; maybe when he was done calling her names and feeling better about himself, maybe he could show some unexpected courtesy and tell her his real name.

But that never happened.

For some reason, that incensed her. She had proven herself trustworthy when she told absolutely no one about him; she'd kept her mouth shut throughout all the instances when he practically infuriated her while sitting directly across from the men that he was spying on. Apparently, he didn't appreciate her efforts.

Oh she knew she was being childish just by thinking of all these, but that was just it! Somehow communicating with this man alone, made her selfishness and sense of entitlement grow. That was an unfamiliar path for her; never before had she felt so compelled to know a person's personal information and matters, but there comes policeman Fujita Goro and she just has to know everything – of course, if one asks Reika-chan, she would say she was more than used to knowing everything about someone; it's just that none other had ever said "no" to her before -.

But what good did that do to her nerves now, as she was returning to the ryokan from the market? She had a good mood just ten minutes ago! And she was carrying all those things: tofu, fish, rice, pork and fresh vegetables; she was always cranky when she was carrying things. Ugh, she didn't even know why she was the one doing it. She should have made the men-! Sounds of shouting from the left distracted her from her thoughts; she tried to locate the direction. But she didn't take too logn because soon enough the ruckus reached her:

"-one stop that kid! You hear me—stop him! He stole from me!"

A man was running after someone - the wallet(?) thief - who remained unseen because the crowd was big and the child was short; he made use of his stature and hid well in the sea of strangers. It would be difficult to track him…but she started looking anyway. Not only was she herself an excellent target for a pick-pocketing but also, stealing was illegal and she frowned upon such behaviours. Besides, if she were correct, she knew the perpetrator of said illegal act, and he was no criminal mastermind.

It didn't take too long—there was a boy, no older than ten, that ran frantically away from the man who kept coming closer and closer. His hair were long and unkempt, a matted mess of dark brown. His skin colour was too white and the boy too pale; he must have been ill. Her heart clenched. Those big brown eyes of his usually staring back at her, were now looking everywhere for a way out of this mess. And then they spotted her! Wider did they become in recognition, and he ran towards her with all the strength he had. The moment he arrived next to her, a hand reached out and grabbed the collar of his hitatare! He dropped a basket; his unhealthily thin limbs started thrashing about fighting for freedom. Apples, onions and rice fell to her feet as both boy and man started arguing and shouting at each other profanities.

"I'll take you straight to the brig-!"

"That won't be necessary, sir; there is your basket," she looked at her feet "and I can compensate you for all the things you lost because of him. Just put him down gently."

"What are you, his mother? It doesn't concern you, go away."

"Well, just a moment ago you were screaming for someone to help you; it's only reasonable to interfere now that he needs help, too. Besides, I'm helping you as well: I'm willing to pay you back for everything. I only ask you put him down and leave after you've been reimbursed."

"Brats like him litter the streets by the dozens; I let him go now and he'll be doing the same tomorrow."

"He won't; will you Takeru?"

Both adults looked at the boy expectantly; he pouted. "He puts me down and I'll promise not to." The response was deemed pacifying; the man did as the woman had asked. "I won't steal again, I promise," he muttered under his breath, his hands crossed in front of his chest.

As she took a better look at him, she noticed his hakama was dirty and frayed around the edges; even some of his hair seemed to have fallen off. She gave him a very reprimanding look; Takeru averted his eyes. "You heard him sir, he won't be bothering you again. Here's your money."

She handed some, more than enough to make up for his losses; it was a shameless bribe to never speak of this again and put it all behind him. He, in turn, when he saw the amount he was given, took them wordlessly, bowed and walked away. She waited till he was completely gone and only then did she turn to the boy, looking thunderous.

"Takeru! What are you doing, stealing from people just to eat? We've discussed this! If you're hungry, you come to me."

"But your place is fancy…and I don't like going there. Besides when I have to take my shoes off I get it all dirty, too and you always shouted at me for dirty feet."

Her chuckle was soft, meant to show Takeru she wasn't trying to make fun of him. "We have great cleaning stuff; and I'm the owner and I no longer mind. If I don't mind, neither should you. Come now, let's go home and I'll treat you to anything you want."

He was hesitant; he didn't dare raise his head, just his eyes. "Really?"

"Of course! So long we have it it's yours; and don't worry, we have lots of different food—the customers like the frequent changes in menu."

He finally smiled. "Thank you, nee-chan."

She smiled back, behind all the shopping bags she carried. "You're welcome."

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It took twenty minutes to reach the ryokan; she didn't burden the kid, who looked way too frail, but she had to stop every now and then to catch her breath. The good thing was the chill of the weather; despite the exercise she didn't perspire too much. Though she did complain a lot, about everything: how the sun was getting in her eyes; how her hair was sticking to her face; how her hands felt sore from the bags…

"No wonder you're still unmarried; you're insatiable in your whining."

She felt empty inside. Really? It had to be him? They'd barely reached the inn but there he was! What did he do, wait at the door for her to show?

"How fortunate you are not my husband and you don't have to listen to me."

She was resting on one of the small benches of the garden; the trip to the kitchen was longer than any other, as the entrance and their destination were on the two opposite ends—at least 100 metres, not necessarily in a straight line. Feeling annoyed just by his presence, she immediately stood and picked up her packets. The kid tried to help her by taking one, but she politely prevented him with: "no Takeru, I'll do it; you just follow me."

"Takeru?" Saito had noticed the brat that followed her but had no idea he was invited in; he figured he just snuck inside and she was complaining to herself. "So the tail has a name," he observed; they noticed he tied his sword on his sash as he approached. "How sweet."

As if his remarks were meant to distract, and without even asking, he relieved her from most of her load. She said nothing to oppose him though; she simply quickened her pace to set the path. If that's how he wanted to make it up to her, all the insulting and the pocking fun at, fine by her. She'd earned an extra worker for free.

"You know my name but I don't know yours; that's not fair," the kid snubbed; usually, Tokio would scold him for his manners, but he knew she'd let this one slip by, since she didn't like the man either.

"Humph," she snorted "welcome to the club." A mixture of caution, warning and irritation were reflected in his eyes when he looked at her; it satisfied her so much, she decided to be annoying on purpose. "Fujita-san is always acting mysterious and secretive and like he knows everything," she continued like the best gossip in town "but he's only acting that way so he can make you tell him everything. He's sly like that, you-."

"I'm Fujita Goro," he interrupted, pointedly looking at the kid "I'm a guest here, so she's supposed to be nice to me but I think she missed that directive. Who are you?"

The sudden attention made him blush and look away. "I'm Takeru Ken; I'm, I'm sometimes a guest here, too…"

"Oh? I bet you pay much less than I do." He paused for a moment to make it look like he had a point. "I believe the price range is inversely proportional to how much she likes you." She rolled her eyes but the child seemed like someone had just explained the universe to him. "So how much do you pay?"

All the while, Takeru kept stealing glances at the tall man, who carried all the shopping as if they were nothing, when Tokio clearly had a difficult time. He was both impressed and ashamed all under a second. "I…I don't really…she makes me promise things instead, like I'll eat properly, I'll keep warm; I'll return if there's trouble or-or I won't steal again…"

"Steal? Are you a thief?"

There was a calm quality to his voice that riled her! "Of course he's not! He took a basket because he was starving; that hardly puts him on the most wanted list."

"I asked him, not you; tell me, are you a thief Takeru?"

The boy had grown defensive, naturally, but the shame was even more apparent. "N-no! I'm not! I'm not a thief."

"But you stole something."

"Tha-that's…I, I had to! But I'm not a thief, I only did it once!"

"If you do it once it's a mistake; if you do it twice it's a habit. So be careful not to do it again."

"I won't do it again, I promised already! Besides, it's not like I had a choice; I was really hungry, I was starving…"

He was parroting Tokio's words and argument; he knew he was going to do that. Not just because he was young and impressionable but also because she was on his side; also, the boy liked her. So he knew exactly what to say. "We always have a choice: do the right thing, or the wrong thing. We all know what is right and wrong, too; after all, you wouldn't run if you didn't know what you did was bad."

"How do you know he-?"

Tokio was ignored by both male specimens as the older one kept talking. "If you didn't want to steal then you shouldn't have; no one forced you to. You took that basket on your own because your desire for food overrode your desire to do the right thing. But you made that choice. Don't blame it on luck or anything else. If she told you to come to her when you're hungry but you chose not to and instead decided to take someone else's food then, who else is there to blame?"

Takeru was tearing up, sniffing his nose; he'd latched onto Tokio's foot and tried very hard to protect himself from all the reproaches but Fujita was giving him no quarter. She felt so sorry for him! Her own desire to hug him and tell him "it's okay" was strong, but she never went through with it.

"And don't hide behind others; if you're a man then you should take responsibility. Besides, mistakes make a man who he is, but only when he learns from them…" he shifted all the weight to his good hand, the left, and stood right next to the boy "…idiot."

He hit his head once, more like a pat really, and suddenly the boy stopped snivelling. There was something so…familial in that gesture and his tone that it calmed Takeru down. Of course, it also had to do with the fact Fujita never raised his voice or sounded anything but stating universal truths; there was no real accusation in his voice no matter what was said.

She stared.

She stared so long, she fell behind. Takeru even started walking next to the man now, wiping at his eyes – hoping no one noticed, but they both did – but she just couldn't get over it. She had spent so much time thinking to herself how she would make Takeru understand what he did was wrong and that he shouldn't do it again, without hurting his pride or calling him a thief. And here mister policeman comes in doing that exact same thing without being asked or struggling how to do it—it came naturally to him.

Those were some envy-worthy child-rearing skills. She envied them at least.

"What are you looking at, spinster girl," his demanding voice derailed her thoughts? "Keep up."

She pouted as she reddened. "Hmmm, I'm coming; you don't have to tell me!"

For some reason, they stayed together; even at the kitchen, after Fujita dropped everything off and he was supposed to no longer be needed, he remained; while Takeru was eating the meal he asked for and Tokio was lecturing him about everything she could – the state of his clothes, his tangled hair, his haggard body – he lingered, watching her chew the boy out. Even after she sent the boy off, advising him to stay at the "usual" room, Fujita didn't leave. He just stood there, watching her wash the dishes.

It was unnerving.

"Fujita-san," she started in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity while relieving the tension "do you have any younger brothers?"

"No, I'm an only child. Well, I would be if my parents were still alive."

"Oh…then, um, did you ever have—do you have a child? I mean, you said you were unmarried but accidents happen."

"No," he replied once again, though now more interested than before; he knew she was going somewhere with this, but he'd just assumed she wanted information. Now it was getting way more specific. "Why?"

She really wanted to say "no reason" and be done with it, but she was actually too eager to know.

"You were surprisingly good with Takeru; like you had experience talking to children like that, and lots of it. I mean, I've been trying to teach him responsibility and all of those things you said to him, for months now! I knew it was how I did it that couldn't get him to listen, but you just did it in a matter of seconds. That, that's hurtful."

She turned to look at him. "So how did you do it?"

A crooked but honest smile spread to his face. "I am an excellent judge of character." He stopped there on purpose, just to see how she'd react. When she puckered her lips, demanding the real answer, he chuckled. "Also, I didn't coddle him nor thought how he'd react to what I said. I just told him what I believed exactly how I believed it and my candidness reached him."

Her head tilted to the side, her messy ponytail following the course; she studied him for a long time—she reminded him of a curious dog. "You are always candid, aren't you? All those things you say and I think you're teasing or being mean—it's just your opinion."

She thought he was being dishonest with her all this time? No wonder she didn't like him. "Yes."

"Huh," she did and returned to her washing; "a professional liar who can't help but speak his true mind. Is that a perk, giving you credibility or a drawback since you can't hide your true views and emotions well?"

He looked at her for the longest of times; her observation drilled into his mind, eventually numbing it. Then he just watched her hands work the crockery in and out of water, rubbing with soap and scouring; the sleeves of her bright blue and pink kimono were carefully folded to avoid getting wet; fingers reached up and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears. Her hair ended up with a little bit of soap at the ends, turning their colour white while more and more strands were released from the ribbon…

For the first time in his life, he wished those reaching fingers were his; for the first time in his life, he longed to take one end of her ribbon and unravel it, make her hair fall on her shoulders; for the first time in his life, he wanted to touch those dirtied ends and play. And for the first time in his life, he could pin point the exact moment his attraction to a woman took shape and a name: domesticity.

He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to hug her middle; he caught himself only when he realised he was but three steps away from her. He didn't allow his utter bafflement to show through, though and simply leaned against the wooden wall. "It's both, for the exact reasons you mentioned. Of course, I do my best to tip the scale towards the first."

His proximity did not alarm her; she hadn't heard him walk there – wow, he must be a very talented spy – but somehow, no matter where or when they ran into each other, they were always physically close. It was one of those things she was conflicted about, because she didn't mind it, despite all the proper manners instilled from her father screaming at her to scream at him for being so close. Instead, she was actually…comfortable.

She hated how she didn't hate that.

"That is great to hear; I'd be sad to come clean your room and find you dead in it one of these days."

"I'd be sad to have you come clean my room while I can't say anything about it, no matter the reason." They shared a small but genuine laugh. "So who is the kid? Why are you putting him up?"

"Takeru was the son of two of my most favourite customers, the Ken couple; they came here often, mostly on business trips and sometimes they would bring him along. During one of their visits that Takeru was with them, too, a year ago give or take, they decided to go out at a restaurant; bad timing and horrible luck combined. That same night, the restaurant was attacked by unidentified men and was set on fire…trapping all of the staff and customers inside, condemning everyone."

He remembered that incident; none had survived. It was rumoured the shishi did it as retaliation they never managed to burn down Kyoto during the Ikedaya affair, but to this day no one accepted responsibility and in fact the leads were pointing towards the direction of the Tokugawa. No matter what, many crisped bodies were found between the rubble and that smell was something he wanted to forget yet knew he never would.

"His parents gone, he was left alone to fend for himself. I took him in immediately but he didn't stay longer than a consecutive month. He came and went after that, till he managed to raise enough money to travel back to his hometown by charities from the residents here.

Of course he wouldn't listen to me when I told him all of their estate will have been one way or another taken – I had the suspicion their lawyer was a weasel; he still went, though…and found out for himself. There was nothing left for him there, so he came back. I thank Buddha for that every day. At least here I can keep an eye on him. But ever since he came back, he's been coming and going inconsistently. Hopefully, now he'll stay for good…or at least a while till he can learn a craft or some other skill."

She stopped her washing to heave a deep sigh, not unlike a mother. "But that is all I can do; hope," she commented bleakly before going back to her activity.

He hummed annoyingly long as he stood straight, even closer than before, and put his hands in his sleeves. "I think I just figured one more reason you decide to stay single: you already have a child. And before you say anything, I know for a fact that many women marry for the sake of procreation."

She didn't have time to roll her eyes at his persistence on the subject of her marital status because what he said she actually thought it sweet; she smiled warmly at him. "Thank you for saying that; not many people think my interest in him is genuine or important."

"…you're welcome."

He felt something tight across his chest, constricting his breath for a moment. The way she smiled at him caught him by surprise—to show such kindness and goodwill to him was unheard of; when it was directed at the boy, he thought it was a beautiful display. But when she looked at him that way…it was rare. In that small moment, the moment his heart did that thing that he had only associated with great successes in his work just by seeing her, he knew.

He was falling in love. The sad part was she was indifferent.

=:=:=:=

"Fujita-san," she called him, once again using that tone of disbelief only he could catch and made him cringe "do you mind stepping to the side?"

He smirked. "I don't."

"Then why won't you?"

He fought not to smirk wider. "I wasn't asked."

Her effort to control her nerves was visible in the way she closed her eyes firmly and squeezed her wrist with her hand. "Can you please step aside?"

"Sure," he relented and did as she wanted. Her clearly forced, exasperated smile was his reward and he really enjoyed his reward. But then they came along and he couldn't amuse himself anymore.

"Fujita, we have a meeting; follow us in the other room."

He had just exited the first of the guest's entertainment room which she entered to clean and put in order, seeing it was occupied by him and some other unrelated people. The "other" room was the one at the far end of the hall that only the shishi were allowed to use, as they paid a large sum of money for that privilege. It was private, none bordered with it, and it was big; it was ideal for their purposes. Certainly, the room he had found himself in with Tokio was much more secure, but thankfully they knew nothing about that.

As the four of the five, and he, walked down the hall, the mysterious, silent one – called Yato – said to him out of the blue: "I see you were engaging the owner again; Takagi Tokio, if memory serves."

"That's correct; that is her name."

Another – Nagato – joined in immediately! "You've been looking her way awfully lot recently; might this be the blooming of a romance?"

"I doubt that; even if I were interested in her, I doubt she has any interest in me."

The third one, called Takatsuki chuckled and said: "ooh, is this the bitterness of rejection we hear?"

"It's the taste of reality, nothing more."

"Don't despair my friend; though not as intense as your gaze, I see her looking at you with some tension. Maybe not all is lost in that cause; you should pursue something," Yato advised with incredible wisdom, found only in the most experienced of men.

"Huh!" Keito, the fourth one. "She's a nice piece; you'd be more than lucky to snag her! I've heard many tried and failed."

Nagato snorted. "Do you mean yourself by any chance?"

"Of course not; I'd never try anything with her! See the stern brow on her face? She's way too serious for me. No, no I prefer the maids; that's the kind of man that I am."

"You mean that's the kind of loser you are."

"Oh shut up Takatsuki; as if you're better."

"At least maids aren't where I set the bar."

He stopped listening right about there; if he was upset there was only one reason: Yato took the time to tell him something like that. Any of the others had he said the same thing, he wouldn't think anything of it. But this comment, the "guy talk" thing, wasn't Yato's style. And if he went out of his way just to let him know he's noticed and approves of his interest in Tokio, it may in fact forebode something bad for her—either because they intend to do something to her or the exact opposite. He started worrying; maybe he shouldn't have been so casual about showing his attraction for the woman. Without realising, he caused her unnecessary trouble. His smile was wide but his fear bigger. He walked into that room with nothing but bad signs.

The meeting itself left him with bad news: a large number of loyalists were planning to return to Kyoto through Osaka. They would arrive at the port in a month from now. And that was all the information given to them. Apparently each and every shishi was to receive this information so they could start preparing for the upcoming attack on the Shinsegumi. Because, why else would more than fifty shishi come at the same place at the same night, clothed, fed and armed?

He had to send word about this. He had to let his colleagues know the exact day and time of this upcoming raid. He had to send it at least two weeks early or else they might not be able to gather the necessary manpower, as quietly as they should – if they didn't want to give him away –. So he had to leave the establishment. But there has never been an instance he'd ever done it before. If he did now, right after this important meeting, well, no matter how stupid most of them were even they'd get it. What if they didn't know he'd left though? They'd never suspect him. So he just had to find a way to leave unnoticed and return before they realised his absence!

Right…that sounded hard; he couldn't imagine how difficult it truly would be to do so.

"Fujita-san, you look distracted."

There was Tokio, wandering the halls with Reika right behind her. The second woman flushed a little but smiled, giving a polite bow; nothing that would indicate they somehow knew each other. He suspected that was Tokio's doing, even from before she found out his secret; she was too protective and too controlling to allow Reika to be alone with or serve men so soon after she was attacked.

"Coming from you, I consider it to be an insult."

She giggled, knowing he is joking. "By all means, no; I point it out merely because it's so rare to see you like this. You're always concentrated on something."

"We all have our days, I guess."

She slowed her pace to match his, leaving Reika to lead the way. They weren't going towards his direction though; she just randomly decided to follow him, thus leaving poor Reika in a pinch about where she was supposed to lead them to. She figured the baths were as good a place as any.

"Would you care to share your troubles?"

"…" he looked at her, suddenly making a realisation: she was the one that came to him. He hadn't even seen her when she made the turn—ok, he may have seen her, but he never acknowledged her. She was the one who made the effort. He felt so much better just like that. Heh, the heart was a peculiar organ—such great control over the human body and psyche. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"Ah, I see; is there any way I can help?"

"…you already did. Thank you."

She seemed a little lost. "No, I meant practically—is there anything I can do to help you?"

He was tempted. He wouldn't lie, for the briefest of moments, he was so tempted. He would write it, give it to her and she'd make sure the Shinsegumi got it. Nice and easy. It was no secret she had dealings with them, how much more after the whole affair with the rapist. It would be safe and it would be convenient.

An image flashed in his mind's eye; it was Tokio, she was in her room. She looked like she was sleeping, but her eyes were open; she rested on her tatami, lying in a pool of her own blood with her throat slit! Next to her, Yato was cleaning his blade completely disinterested…

He blanched.

"Fujita-san!" If Tokio sounded so worried, he couldn't look well. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, quite; why do you ask?"

"The colour suddenly drained from your face; what is it? Did you remember something unpleasant?"

"Something like that; don't worry. It passed."

He never ever wanted to see that happen. He always went through worst case scenarios in his head before doing anything and he'd seen himself dead in various ways. He hadn't minded. But this was something that crippled him emotionally in less than two seconds and he had no intention to let it come true! He wasn't in that much of urgency anyway; he was sure he could devise some scheme or another to slip away for a couple of hours without being noticed and he wouldn't need to enlist anyone's help. She should be safe. And he would wait for a whole week if he had to, to make sure he could do it on his own, without her involvement.

She was looking at him bemused this whole time; he was so private. He kept asking her about personal things or uneasy topics yet he wouldn't reveal anything. The mettle of a true spy, no doubt, but that certainly made things harder. She didn't suppose he'd change now though. So she gave up on trying making him talk and decided to do something else. "Forgive my indiscretion; you appeared very upset, that is all. I suggest you use the bath to calm yourself. Isn't that where we're going anyway, Reika-chan?"

"Yes, Tokio-sama," she admitted with a guilty smile.

"There, fate; or timing, call it what you will. Have a relaxing bath and all of the answers will come to you. I know it helps me a lot."

Was she honestly trying to make him feel better? She kept surprising him this day. "I'll take your advice then. Are there clean towels in the bath?"

"Of course; you can go right now in fact and all you'll need is there. Just make sure to leave anything you used at the changing room on your way out."

He nodded; she nodded back.

For the rest of the way, they all walked in complete silence. Reika-chan glanced at the pair behind her, or the walls and the ceiling; why was no one saying anything? For the first time they didn't argue about something so instead of keep up civil conversation they just remain silent? Why? Did they fear if they kept talking eventually they would fight? Oh wait, that is actually possible, the young woman thought and decided not to feel so awkward. They were awkward enough.

Though not really; as novel as it was, neither felt the need to break the silence for there was no discomfort between them. Just this once, they were both friendly and social so even this stretch of quietness felt natural. He didn't know if it was a fluke, but he appreciated the fact that when he needed to focus, she gave him that chance. Maybe she was more intuitive than he gave her credit for. That was an admirable quality in a woman, he deduced, and one he'd definitely prefer over, let's say, obedience. Huh. How strange. Suddenly my standards of a suitable woman start reflecting her.

When they arrived at their destination, he bowed and immediately went into the bath, without saying a word; the two women looked at each other. "I think Fujita-sama is indeed having a bad day. I wonder if we could have helped in any other way."

"Don't fret Reika-chan; I'm sure he'd have let us know if there was anything we could do." She pushed the girl away from the door gently, almost hugging her in the process; Reika feared to leave him alone. And Tokio was no simpleton. There was something going on with the shishi, something bad would happen maybe and he was concerned; that much she understood. But if he said she couldn't help, she believed him. "I think we did best by leaving him to his thoughts."

Her immediate worries dissolved, Reika allowed Tokio to remove her; then, they returned to the task they set out to do from the beginning and meet with the crew responsible for keeping the garden green, clean and beautiful.

A/N: Saito has many things on his mind, you know? He's a busy guy. I feel so sorry for him on one hand but on the other I really like torturing characters, mine or not. Anyway, development! And plot; more of it coming next chapter which apparently is gonna be sooner for some reason since the more I write the less it takes. Whatever brain.