A/N: Hello, hello again! Like I said, this story writes itself, I swear. I'm just allowing it to use me, I'm the conduit.

Also, the bits of historical trivia are true; I dug into Japanese history quite a bit! At least the late Tokugawa period and early Meiji. Apparently, during the Boshin war which not only ended (formally on June, 1869) in a disaster for the shogunate but went so bad it was deemed futile after July 1868 for most of Japan, except for the Aizu clan - known for its prowess in battle-; September 1868 the Meiji were formally restored and their period begins. It ended July 1912.

Also, a big warm thank you to all those who reviewed! You keep my motivation so high and running, it's ridiculous.

And no, I do not own RuroKen or its characters etc etc.

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He had not thought this through as much as he should, he hadn't; if he did, then he wouldn't be in this predicament. It wasn't as if he hadn't gone through all of the scenarios in his head, like always – he'd spent a whole week working on the details since he'd found out – , but somehow during the execution of his plan, all that could go wrong did!

That night, for the most idiotic reason ever, they decided they should all sleep in joining bedrooms. The timing couldn't be worse even if they read his mind. Though that put a relative stop to the plan, he realised he could not afford to wait a day longer. He had had to risk it. So he chose the one with an exit—six rooms, two doors leading outside

But again, something didn't go his way: when he was sneaking out, he heard one more of them walk the halls; he eavesdropped for a while and realised the man had gone to the bathroom. In itself that wasn't a problem, but the fact Nagato was the one who woke up. If he wanted to go outside, the nearest exit was in Saito's room; and he certainly didn't find Saito sleeping as he should.

Adding to the list of things that could go horribly wrong, while on his way to the Shinsegumi headquarters, instead of finding a patrol of his fellow policemen, he ran into loyalists! They were discussing in the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything. With them around, how could he come to light himself? He had to remain unseen. He side-stepped them by taking a route two roads longer, but that caused him to lose even more time than he should. And he knew Nagato wouldn't sleep till he returned.

He was up to two hours outside hiding, when he finally found the first patrol he could present himself to without any suspicions being aroused. Seeing the way to the headquarters was blocked by all sorts of people that could have relations with the men staying at the Takagi ryokan, he could do nothing but wait for the Shinsegumi to come to him. They were men under Okita's command; they should know him. He approached more than carefully and handed a note. The man in the middle nodded in a conspirator's fashion; seconds later they'd gone their separate ways.

Now that was settled, the problem of how to get back unnoticed remained; though not more, they weren't that less either, the filth on the streets. How could these people wander so freely? He'd found no evidence of duelling between swordsmen so the shishi had managed to avoid the Shinsegumi…but how? There were enough patrols. He entertained the thought of a mole inside the police, but he knew there was no way that was true, or even if it was, that wasn't the problem here. Even by chance, they would have met. That only meant the shishi went out of their way to be imperceptible.

Saito was exasperated, but realised the only reason he even saw these people was because he was sneaking around, too. The rest of the Shinsegumi weren't; they walked around proud but there for all to see or hear. He should have a talk about that with the rest of the squad leaders when he was finished with this.

Storing it to the back of his mind for now, he swapped it with more pressing matters: like how he was going to get inside his room without blowing his cover wide open. Entering the ryokan would be easy; it was impossible to keep an eye on the main entrance, or any sort of entrance from where they were situated currently. And he got to know Nagato these three weeks: he was the type who wouldn't deploy others, but try to solve things on his own, which meant he wouldn't wake up anyone, but he'd patiently wait at the door for him to come back.

So he made a list of things he needed to do and which ones were feasible. He had to sneak in the ryokan; he had to go to his room and appear natural; he had to convince Nagato he wasn't doing anything suspicious. He could certainly do the first but the rest not really…he had to make a new list. So, he had to sneak into the ryokan; easy. He had to convince Nagato he wasn't up to anything suspicious. Looking at the horizon, the sun started peeking over the mountains. He had lost his window—soon enough they'd all be up. So, he had to stay away from his room and find them at a sensible time and then convince all of them he wasn't doing anything wrong.

That could happen. He simply needed to make it look like he was at the ryokan even if he wasn't in one of their joined rooms. But how? It had to be something in accordance with his character; it had to be something that wouldn't rouse any suspicions. Something they could easily believe and make him, if possible, even more likeable to completely wipe out the negative feelings—nothing like a pleasant surprise to counter the bitterness of possible betrayal. He thought hard for a long moment; and then the solution presented itself so naturally, he could kick himself for not thinking it immediately!

As he was waiting at the entrance, he looked around from behind it; with its tall, stone walls, it was impossible to be seen. He eavesdropped but heard nothing. Always following the way the shadows were cast on the ground, he snuck inside. The room he was looking for was removed from any other place in the whole inn. Also, one could walk the halls of that part of the inn safely because none other than a couple of people roamed around. But he chose another route: instead of risking even that one percent chance – which tonight seemed more than enough to make something happen – he took the safest option: get in from the outside.

He spotted it: the room was somehow higher than any other even though the ryokan was built on equal ground. It had a wide window but also a curtain to prevent peeking inside. He saw the curtain dancing to the wind, an idle but steady movement. And then he realised: the window was open! Was his luck finally turning around?

With swift motions, he found himself crouching directly underneath that big open window; he took a look inside. All was normal and nothing hindered his entrance; fighting a smirk, he grabbed on to the frame. Putting all of his strength in his legs, he sprang off the ground! In through the curtain and hop, over the frame, he landed on his own two feet on the wooden floors, after he rolled twice to ensure he made no sound. Hmm; this room was bigger than he'd thought; he'd never been in here before, never even dared to walk the halls outside it. He'd only stamped it from afar.

Why?

Because this was the personal bedroom of the owner; Takagi Tokio was currently lying not one metre away from him. He spent a long moment doing nothing but looking at her. She hadn't heard a thing and she was sound asleep, covered up to her chin, though one hand was sprawled away from the warmth of the blanket. Though covered, her feet were very un-lady like spread while there was a slight snoring coming from her.

He tried really hard not to laugh at the contrast of this picture with her usual image.

The next thing he had to do was wake her up; she had to be in the know. He approached soundlessly but put more weight in his each step, in an effort to make the shockwaves somehow wake her - he didn't want her screaming bloody murder - . He even started making noise. But no, nothing woke her. That woman slept heavier than an entire Shinsegumi squad!

He pinched the bridge of his nose. How odd that this was the first time he was annoyed with her and it wasn't even her fault. He shook his head but decided on a more direct approach: he crouched low enough for his hands to reach her and started rocking her. His other hand was ready to cover her mouth at the smallest sound, though he hoped he wouldn't have to scare her like that.

"Tokio." Nothing. "Tokio, wake up." There was some reaction…but then she just turned on her side. "Come now Tokio, wake up."

Rocking her harder each time, he almost pushed her! Only then did the woman showed some signs of comprehension. "Lemme sleep, will you? The inn doesn't open for a while…"

"Tokio, it's an emergency." She just shrugged his hand away. "Just wake up spinster-girl!"

The nickname did the trick: she spurred into action, both turning his way and sitting up in one sudden move. She stared at him with eyes wide open, mirroring her emotions: reprimand yet disbelief.

"…why" she inquired emphatically? "Just, just why?"

"I need a place to hide."

She blanked. "Explain that."

"I slipped out tonight to deliver a message to the Shinsegumi; they weren't supposed to and I was hoping they wouldn't notice, but I know they did and it will cause major problems when I return…unless I can actually account for my whereabouts."

Her eyes shone with understanding. "Oh, I see; by claiming you were with me, you have an alibi but also score more points with them, give them something to root for. You turn the whole situation around to your benefit instead of being exposed."

"Indeed," he assured with pride "and I won't have to end my surveillance here or give them the opportunity to change their plans. That way they won't blindside the Shinsegumi and we may actually turn this whole thing around."

"Turn what thing around?"

He looked at her grimly but when he spoke there wasn't a single hint of worry. "Things may be as they are in Kyoto, but all around it and Edo, the ishin gain more supporters and resources by the day. I was stationed in Hofu, capital of the Suo province just before I came back here; that is right next to the Chousu province, one of the nests of the loyalists. Out there, things are very bad for us.
But this is the capital; if we manage to hold them off just a little longer, it could be crucial to the outcome of the whole war."

She looked awestruck. "When you speak of such things you look very cosmopolitan…and knowledgeable. It's very different from how you usually are."

Was that a comliment or an insult? It was hard to decide. "It's just experience."

"That makes it better yet much worse at the same time; just what sort of trouble have you been into?"

"Not important; will you help me or not?"

"Oh yeah, since you aren't in my room already," snapped she, rolling her eyes. "Regardless, it was a good choice to come here." She suddenly stopped. "Wait a minute. If you pretend you slept with me…it completely soils my reputation. Huh. I never really had given any thought to that before. Well, reputation versus life loses, but still. You wound me."

"I'm sorry; I know I'm asking a lot. But I also know you'll do whatever you can. That's why I came here on the first place. So thank you anyway."

She tried not to feel flattered but failed; essentially, he was calling her reliable and that was the biggest compliment this man could give to anyone…and she somehow knew that. And she felt proud.

"You're welcome," she stammered, looking away, suddenly bashful. "Okay, if we're going to go through with this it has to be perfect: take...off your clothes…as much as you can without being naked, and spread them around the room."

"I am a neat person."

"…" She tried really hard not to sass him. "Fold them carefully and put them at the bedside then!"

"Alright;" he agreed quickly and started untying his hakama "what's the story? How did you let me in?"

"Um…I am known for my massage therapies; I am very good at that, in fact. I wanted to do it professionally but I inherited the ryokan, so I gave it up. But if someone truly needs it, I accept to help them. You can say one of the old people who are guests here told you. Though that brings us to the question of why?"

"Why? What why?"

"Why would the old people tell you? And why would you spend the night with me particularly, won't it seem odd?"

Ah, of course. He'd taken it for granted, but she had no idea, ahd she? After all, if she thought he was just being mean to her, how could she suspect he was actually interested in her. And now was probably the worst time in the world to reveal it, so he refrained. Well, he didn't plan to do it before this whole mess with the shishi was cleared anyway. He chose to play it cool.

"Not at all; the men think I have formed an attachment to you." As her hand was sliding the window, it stopped moving halfway; she looked at him. She didn't know if she should feel insulted at the lack of emotion in his voice or relieved. "You know my secret, so I tend to look, keep an eye on you. They misinterpret it as interest; I let them because it's convenient."

"Ooh, so you let them believe you're interested in me to make them think you're governed by emotion thus making them feel superior in some way, while in fact you calculatingly both keep an eye on me and strengthen your cover identity." She paused. "That is cunning."

"I am very pleased you seem to understand my plans."

"They are not that hard to figure out."

"Yes they are. If not, I'd be dead in some ditch by now with more than ten people joining me who in fact are still alive."

She was looking in her closet to find another headrest but his comment made her stop and look at him for the second time. "Have you been in circumstances really that dangerous?"

His crooked smirk returned, bigger than usual, making his face look more angled. "If they weren't, I wouldn't even bother; and no one would come to me for help."

Was he…?

No.

Was he? Was he enjoying this? He wasn't, was he?

She looked at him and saw his meticulous movements—no form of panic, only pride etched on his face at the words he spoke. He is asked only for the dangerous missions…because he is that good; because they trust him to pull through. And of course, there's the element of danger, the thrill of the chase, the excitement of the game of cat and mouse. Oh dear, he was enjoying this. He loved it, every minute of it, every minute on the job.

She felt small suddenly and very…rustic, like a country bumpkin. He had all these first-hand experiences of amazing and dangerous tales; no wonder he loved his job. It offered him a kick nothing else could: risking his life every day, knowing it may be his last. And she just existed there, at her inn, worrying about the colour of the kitchen like that was all there was. No wonder he would speak his mind so easily, poke fun at her and keep mentioning how she's still unmarried. It was so insignificant, it was funny! And oh how asinine must it all look to him.

She felt like crying. But she didn't allow it to show.

She took the headrest out and an old nightgown her mother used to wear—a married woman's nightgown; she started undressing but then she realised she was going to actually undress in front of him. Her cheeks betrayed her mental state; she turned to say "look away" and keep like that till she said otherwise, but then she was caught off guard by his nakedness. He was wearing – loosely might she add – just his hakama; but it wasn't the impropriety itself that made her stare but what it revealed:

Wounds.

Some of them were still healing, covered in something akin to home-made balm; the rest, which was the most, were already healed. But what positively frightened her was the fact his whole body was riddled with them! His upper arms, his torso, especially the area of his ribs on both sides - though his chest wasn't spared -, they all had lines-lines-lines of marred flesh...! So that was the price he paid for doing what he loved.

She felt like crying again.

"I know I'm an attractive man but please stop just looking at me; we need to hurry."

She changed so many colours he didn't know how she was ever going to decide to pick one again. She gave him the most offended look in the history of mankind…! When he saw her hands on her robe though, he finally understood she must have wanted to slip into something different and looking at her wasn't helping. He turned around.

"So what should I do now?"

"Just lie on the bed and tuck in; I'll join you shortly."

He didn't turn but her comment tempted him to, just to make sure she wasn't messing with him. "Seriously?"

"Well how else will it be believable? You want your operation to succeed or not?" When he didn't reply, she took it as agreement. "Besides, it's barely six o'clock, the sun hasn't come up yet; I'm sleepy.
You can look now."

She then came closer, the blush never fading, but certainly decreasing. Modest yet uncertain, like she was afraid to lie in her own bed because something would try and eat her, she took steps to get under the covers. He had turned on his side, his hand supporting his head, facing her. "I'm not a deviant; I didn't do this with any sort of ulterior motive. Just lie down, you'll be safe." For good measure, he hid his smile as he lay on his back.

"I, I know! It's just I've never slept in the same room with another man before, how much more the same bed. It's new."

That revelation didn't surprise him one bit. "Well, if all you do is sleep like we're about to, it's pretty much the same with if I were a woman. Just close your eyes and let your tiredness do the rest."

"Right…" she settled in, careful not to brush shoulders with him accidentally. "I suppose you are correct. You seem to know of such things." Timidly, like a child, she pulled the covers up to her neck.

"I seem to know many things this night," he teased; she forgot all about her prudence for a moment and looked at him exasperated. He coughed his mirth away. Then they stayed silent for a long moment.

"Goodnight, Fujita-san." And for once, she didn't say it condescendingly.

"Goodnight, Tokio." And with that, he turned his back on her.

She watched him do it; it all felt so surreal, she was positive she was dreaming. Yes, she must never have woken up on the first place. Or else, she had to find an explanation as to why her heart skipped a beat when she heard him call her by her own name in that tone of voice.

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There was a knock on the door; Saito's eyes snapped open. He couldn't believe it for a moment, but he'd fallen asleep. Admittedly, there was too little he could do just lying there on that bed next to her so he was somewhat justified. But all he did was watch her breath air in and out...yet it was truly mesmerising. The moment he'd heard her light snoring he lay on his back again but when he looked at her, he didn't want to look away. He just looked at her nose doing that odd thing every time something bothered her, or her mouth slightly move with every breath; her chest rose and fell rhythmically…so much it put him to sleep.

He wasn't even ashamed to admit it, he was far too shocked. This whole concept of such powerful attraction was unprecedented to him. He had spent far too much time that morning, more than he cared to admit, thinking how it would feel like to sleep with her as a man and not just a decoration; how it would feel to wake up next to her after. And how refreshing would it be for her delightful scent to mingle with his…

But even if nothing happened, it felt good to open his eyes and she was the first thing he laid eyes upon.

"Wake up;" he whispered in her ear, no more than a centimetre away from her "they're here."

As if programmed, she opened her eyes; she rubbed them and yawned. She stretched, taking a little too much space yet still not touching him; somehow that aggravated him. She yawned some more but finally took small steps to get out of bed. More knocking was heard. "I'm coming," she complained to the people behind the door! With practised motions and accuracy, her feet landed exactly at the spot her slippers rested and were placed snuggly into them. She took a moment to gather momentum and the next she was up! "I'm coming," she assured and dragged her feet to the door.

But despite her slow movements and her appearance, she was fully alert; she was thinking about ten things at the same time while she looked back at Fujita to see if he were covered and looking away. He was. Like receiving her signal, she slid the door open.

None other but three out of the five ishin shishi were there: Nagato, Yato, and Takatsuki. Deciding to play the part of the innocent caught red-handed, she pretended to be surprised to see them. "Sirs…I hope there is a very particular reason you visit me at my private quarters."

"There is. We are looking for our friend, Fujita Goro; we can't locate him any-!"

She didn't even have to pretend—that violent blushing rushed to her cheeks in a matter of seconds! Averting her eyes, she looked inside her room as if the greatest secret in the world rested in there. Yato, who was doing the speaking, stopped and followed her eyes. He saw it: a bare hand protruding from beneath the covers started stirring. It was undoubtedly a man's and more specifically, the man's he was looking for. The pleasant surprise written all over his face led the rest to look inside as well and make the same awkward realisation.

And she was the most awkward of all though. "I'll…go…get hi-"

"No!" He said it a little too enthusiastically so Yato caught himself. He looked apologetic and readjusted his tone. "That won't be necessary; when you both wake up properly, just tell him to visit us in the other room. Now we know where he is and we aren't worried, he can take as long as he likes."

"O…kay…good…morning sirs."

She closed the door to their face, but by no means did she leave! She stood right behind it, in an effort to eavesdrop their reactions or conversation. She heard one of them say something about how a Nagato character was being stupid and then another called the same man paranoid and then the accused seemed to make light of this and agree with them and how he was glad this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

She closed her eyes relieved while the guilty smile on her lips started growing bigger and bigger. She walked over to the bed with her heart beating faster; before it was of worry; now it was happiness. She grabbed the cover and threw it away! His head was under it but now she could see he was staring at the door the whole time. Her smile never faded.

"We made it; they believed us!" she was more paranoid than him though so instead of saying the words, she mouthed them; he smiled back.

"You can speak freely, they left."

She took a sharp breath and released it audibly! "I don't believe this just happened and somehow I pulled through! Oh my heart;" she put her hand over it either to feel it or in an attempt to somehow calm it down, walking around "my heart is beating so fast I feel it's going to beat out of my chest! Oh dear oh dear oh dear!"

She made a visible effort to calm, airing herself, still going about the room; what had just happened was…she actually…and no one understood her deceit! She just lied to a bunch of men and assisted in a government-sanctioned mission. She had officially just helped a spy—did that make her something similar by association? Oh, she hoped not; she didn't want to lose the inn. Wait, what was she saying? She just – very successfully indeed – helped him maintain his cover, they won't start parades for her.

Still, her plan of how to pass as a normal couple worked! She was feeling a weird mixture of pride, excitement, fear and relief all at equal measure! She couldn't decide which one was stronger. Was this how Fujita felt most of the time? Anxious not to blow his cover every second of every day, but all this personal triumph for every passed second they failed to catch on to him? If yes, then it was insane; she didn't know how he did it without breaking into sweats or simply breaking down. Nerves of steel; that must have been the answer…!

"Breathe deeply through your nose and exhale from your mouth; it will calm your heart beat," he advised while at the same time walked to her; she started doing it but for some reason it didn't work. She looked troubled. "You have to be still," he finished, putting his hands on her shoulders. He pushed downward for two seconds till she stopped moving. "There you go."

She practised it a couple of times till she managed to do it right. Slowly, she felt her heart beat go back to normal. What with all the oxygen going back to her head she came to process the fact…he was still undressed. And all of that deep breathing was for naught for her tachycardia returned. Pretending she was alright, she removed herself from his hold. Yet she couldn't help but look at him; all those nasty scars, the still healing wounds…she wanted but somehow she couldn't look away. And then there was the part of his well-defined muscles that proved somewhat distracting as well.

But it was mostly the wounds, honestly.

Of course he noticed again. It wasn't hard to do it anyway, as she wasn't covertly glancing at him but overtly staring. For a person so modest she surely has no qualms about this. He stopped fiddling with his hitatare, in his effort to put it on and simply stood there, just to see when she'd realise he was purposefully immobile. It took her more time than one would consider prudent.

"You…must really like your job, enjoy it," she wanted to trace his scars with her hands, just to make sure they weren't fake; no one should be this hurt, ever "if you're willing to endure such violence and abuse."

She finally looked at him and her serious expression was unexpected. He was taken aback; he honestly thought she was just staring at him, on account of never having seen a man naked before, even to this extent. He shrugged. "My job is to kill evil people; what's there not to love?"

"That is your job? I thought you were…an undercover policeman."

"I am skilled in the art of blending in but the first and sole reason I entered this line of work is because it gives me the chance to find more evil people and dispose of them. Going about it one person at a time is very naïve and tiring; it's far better to find their nest. Also, this is my first undercover assignment."

"…oh," was all she could say. "That…that is practical, the altogether part."

He was stuck on one thing she'd said though; it seemed odd anyone would go into the trouble of mentioning it, no matter how true it was. "What made you think I enjoy it? Work is work; you could have just as easily thought I do what I'm told out of lack of options and I sim[ly grew to love it."

"No." She was absolute. "You're sharp and resourceful; you wouldn't lack options. Also, not once have I heard you complain about the difficulties of what you're doing. You don't have many chances for that, granted, but, you know, I carried a bunch of things and I wouldn't stop! But you never whine; if anything, you seem proud. And if you think so little of your wounds—if you're willing to receive them on the first place, then it certainly is voluntary."

She couldn't find the courage to keep looking at him; she turned away, hearing the shuffling coming from his general direction—he was dressing after all. "And some of them are still fresh. Was it so bad at Hofu? They must have been deep—it's a long trip from there to here."

"I made it in a hurry." She appreciated he had the decency to lie about it while he appreciated her courtesy by not calling him out.

But once again, his feelings were stirred in all the right ways. She was considerate; and good god was she smart! She called him all those things, knowledgeable, cunning, and intelligent but she wasn't far behind. Her observation skills were truly exceptional, too second to a select few. But why was she so downcast? He didn't like it. All she did was make some accurate deductions about his character…he needed to lighten the mood. "What is this? We barely spent one night together and now you are concerned about me, spinster-girl?"

There was her normal bulging of the eyes and the affronted look; all made sense again in the world. But they didn't stay for long, they were replaced by her jaw tightening and looking distinctively superior. "I would be concerned anyway; no person, man or woman, should lead such a precarious lifestyle! You should take care of yourself, Fujita-san."

Well, at least anger was preferred to that other undertone she used when speaking his name.

"I do; don't worry about it."

Fully clothed now, he was ready to leave; he grabbed his sword. "Thank you for your help; though I'll have to inconvenience you from now on. After all we have to sell the whole couple thing."

"I get it; don't worry about it," she threw his words right back at him with the exact same vacant expression.

He smirked. "Good; I'd hate to be one more reason for you to remain single."

He walked out, depriving her from the chance to snap back at him. She remained there, brooding, left to start her day on her own.

=:=:=:=

She was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. Only three days had passed since then yet it still felt like nothing but a dream. She actually slept with a man. Not just any man, a man she knew and though her feelings about him were conflicted, she could at least say she respected him. She expected to feel much worse than she did but, even when they had been lying next to each other, not for a moment did she feel cornered, or threatened. In fact, it was uncomfortable how comfortable she felt with him, only centimetres away. It might have to do with the fact it was him; it wasn't the first time she didn't mind his proximity though she should have. Also, there was a sense of honour about him. She never believed even for a moment he would do something to her.

But she was so frustrated! How could she feel like that with a person who wouldn't tell her his own name? He didn't trust her with it. But it made no sense. He trusted her with something much bigger and important than his name. She could have said no and she knew he would have respected her wishes. So why doesn't he just tell her his name?

Ugh…his mind was a mess. If he was willing to endure all of that hacking and bare it so proud on his chest and speak about killing his enemies with such casualty, then she definitely didn't need to know how it worked.

She sighed. She realised that no matter what, she was still curious. Goddamn it, why!? Her frustration left her close to tears! Alright, his mind was a mess; what about hers though? Why did she make no sense to herself? Why did she look forward to him coming to her room again? They had agreed he'd spend two of the seven nights of every week with her, to keep up appearances; no public displays of affection, other than being close to one another; and of course, no admonishing the staff when they whispered in the corridors about them having an affair, unless it was done disrespectfully.

Tonight was supposed to be the second night of this first week that he would come to her; but this once, he'd stay the whole night. Her cheeks fired up immediately, as if they had their own will, always betraying her. This was such a nightmare!

"Ah!"

She felt a pain and immediately smelt blood; she threw the knife on the counter instinctively. She almost lopped off her own finger; the cut was pretty deep! "Ah…stupid. This is what you get when you get distracted," she scolded herself, peering at her index finger. Making a grand decision, she brought it to her lips and suckled. The best remedy for a harmless cut, taught by her dear mother; she smiled at the memory of them cutting meat on this same counter and her mother doing the same when Tokio accidentally nicked herself.

And now she was did the same, not due to lack of technique, but distraction. She sighed yet again, her finger still in her mouth. No matter the smile on her face at the memory, she hated the metallic taste of blood; she soured. She also hated the smell. She couldn't believe she was so willing to kill a man not a month ago; at that moment, she hadn't cared for any of her aversions to blood—she just wanted to see it run down that pig's mouth, trickle down his jaw, sully his clothes…and now she didn't even want to look at it. Blind hatred could do a lot to a person.

"Don't suck it so much; you draw more blood than necessary."

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she missed Fujita coming in and standing next to her. She looked at him surprised at the advice. "Your finger; you cut it right? I can see the blood on the knife."

"Right, yes; I did." She looked disconnected from reality just a tiny bit. "Yes, I did;" she repeated, finally in touch with what he was saying "it hurt." She complained, but not really. There was something matter-of-factly on her tone. "See? It's deep." He smiled when she showed him her injury with a sense of achievement.

"Why, it is deep;" he remarked surprised "how did you get it like that? Were you aiming for your finger all along?"

"No! I was cutting radishes; my hand slipped…I think."

"You think?"

"I was distracted."

"Handling knives is a good time to keep your full attention on something."

"I know genius; I didn't do it on purpose!" Wow, she was being an extra flavour of testy today. "Can you help or not?" Good to see she didn't spurn him; she even asked for his council.

"Sure," he made a point not to change his amiable tone, either to punish her for her own bad mood or help her change it. He ripped a small piece of cloth from the edge of his hitatare as he approached her "you leave it alone to desiccate; it's the best solution. It's not too deep to need stitches so it'll be alright on its own."

He covered her finger with it, like hugging it. "But it's better to keep it covered; it will hurt less in instances of sudden contact."

He wasn't too close; she was barely in his reach. And his hands were rough, calloused by the sword, moving sharply. She could have "owed" a lot of times by the involuntarily harsh treatment but she didn't; she recognised his effort and his intentions. She liked it. She blushed; if she didn't know he was doing it just so they appear close to people who may be watching, she would have probably fainted: he wasn't too close, but there was an underlying eroticism to his manners it rendered her immobile. Honestly, she simply looked at his fingers wrapping around hers even after they'd stopped. She didn't know if the mood was on purpose, too but her feet felt like giving out.

"Better?"

"Better…thank you…I…need to chop the rest of my vegetables now."

She turned her back, looking numb; he had no idea what had just happened with her and he was right there! He just thought he should help her with her cut. Did she mind? He was careful not to get too close. Whatever it was though, he felt like he shouldn't let her use a knife in this state or she'd certainly chop off a finger. But how could he stop her? She'd never listen to him. Maybe if he somehow shocked her…ah, of course. He had just the right thing. He was saving it for tonight, but this seemed to be a better time.

He pretended to be fascinated with the radishes and approached even more; looking over her shoulder, he bend down to reach her height. "Saito," he simply said and waited for a moment. Utterly confused, she turned her head to look at him. "Hajime Saito."

A knowing smirk spread all over his face as he slowly distanced himself; it took her a split second but finally realisation flooded her. Her neck turned, following him out the room, till he was no longer visible; the knife was abandoned on the counter as she went to take a seat. Had he just told her his name? Then...she had found out his last secret. No, even better: he trusted her with his final secret. She smiled with an unexpected yet welcome sense of serenity and pride, focusing after a long time.

Hajime Saito; it was a good name.

It wasn't till a little later she remembered why it felt familiar. It was a famous name, too! Apparently these ishin shishi had never seen his face but even they would know his name, if she did. Though, she never would have associated it with him, his face, and his character. His reputation was one that spoke of a ruthless killer, the unyielding third squad captain of the Shinsegumi. His behaviour here painted him the type who barked but didn't bite. Well, to the rest anyway; she'd seen him talk about his job and saw the scars on his body—she saw those two things at the same time.

She wouldn't have pegged him for Hajime Saito but now that she knew, she couldn't have imagined anyone more fitting to bare that name.

A/N: Chapter end~! Fu fu fu, hope you liked it. Please review and/or message me to let me know what you thought.

P.S. Note how the size is getting bigger and bigger by the chapter? Yeah, not on purpose, it just happens. xD