A/N: Heeeey! How are you dears? Did anyone say, new AU? No? Then I must have. Hehehehe, I had a leave from work this week and I had plenty of time in my hands. Huh. Well, not plenty, but some. At least enough to write this. Anyway, have at it!
Plot bunnies happened and here it is! I am exploring different nuances of their relationship with this piece, I hope you like it. I dunno how long it's gonna be, but it'll probably be three to four chapters.
Have fun!
By the way, not proofread at all. Sorry~~!
Title: Laws of Attraction
Genre: Humour, Romance, Slice of Life
Alternative Universe: Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU
"Hello gentlemen."
A short woman, no older than twenty five, gave a bow in front of the two men standing right in front of the door. She herself was standing in front of the only office in the large room, between the two comfortable black chairs that were supposed to be used by guests.
"My name is Takagi Tokio and I will be your legal helping hand in this joined endeavour; I am happy to make your acquaintance."
Both men seemed to be unprepared to hear those words from her mouth. None had failed to notice the size of the room, nor its large bookcase, that lined the wall behind the desk. The window was a huge one, replacing the upper half of the wall facing the door, with a very soft-looking large sofa underneath it. The entire room and its furniture were in black and brown hues, while pictures of a middle-aged man and his family decorated most of the unoccupied surfaces.
But where the short man, the one who appeared to be a ball of energy, exclaimed a "wow, alright! Hello Tokio-chan," treating these news as a challenge, the tall one, the grumpy looking one, simply groaned.
"I am Okita Souji – but please, call me Souji-kun – and this is Saitou Hajime, the two detectives at your disposal. Feel free to use our talents as you see fit!" He was all smiles and enthusiasm, brown hair shaking as he elbowed his colleague. "Right, Saitou-san?"
Saitou-san sighed now, causing Tokio to frown.
"What do you have to say, Saitou-san?"
By his tone alone, it was clear Souji was expecting a positive reaction; combine it with that forced smile and those deadly glares, it was a certainty. But Saitou didn't seem to care one bit for he just sighed again.
"I say: oh no, they sent us the rookie; Buddha help us."
Tokio's face was crestfallen and she produced her own personal sound of regret. "Oh no," she bemoaned, too, and even actors would be jealous of her drawl and desperation "they sent me the asshole."
Just as Souji was about to turn and scold his friend, he stayed his probing finger while his half-open mouth was redirected at the small woman with the conservative clothes, her slipping glasses and the strict bun sitting on the top of her head. A disbelieving chuckle of mirth escaped him...while Saitou simply looked at her mildly shocked. His eyes had a very unique amber hue, but after this, they became even more pronounced.
"You certainly have a mouth on you," was all Saitou said, undecided if he should be offended or amused.
"A lawyer, who speaks her mind? Unheard of," she kept the sarcasm at an all-times high "unbelievable even. Who would have thought?"
"Alright," the tall man raised his hands in a placating manner "point taken."
The woman huffed. "I may look cute and defenseless, but I'm not; and I have every intention of being as friendly as people think I am but if you give me shit, you get shit back. So, let's start over." She rolled her shoulders like a boxer ready to enter the ring.
"I'm Takagi Tokio, the very same Takagi Tokio who set this entire thing in motion and had the actual idea for our very expensive and very high-profile law-firm collaborate with any police department in Kyoto, because, let's face it, we both need the good publicity. Your precincts are full of rot and scandal while our firm is all that it is because it only deals with ridiculous rich people. So, in an effort to help the populace and our images, I came up with this. I suggest you both come to terms with a fact I was the mastermind behind it all so we can get on with it already."
"...not even an apology; amazing." A smirk took over his face. "Do they also teach you how to be rude, in law-school?"
Her smile was as wide as it was terse. "If you want to apologise to me, Hajime-san, you are more than welcome."
The tall man turned to Souji, shaking his head, trying to convey his own brand of "can you believe this person" but the traitor simply tried not to laugh at Saitou's plight.
"All I did was call you a novice; am I wrong? You're, what, twenty four? Fresh out of school; how much experience can you possibly have?"
"Not that it would otherwise be any of your business, but I'm twenty eight; and for everything I lack, I make up for it with wit and resourcefulness; plus, I don't know how it is for you big policemen newbies, but us lawyers, are allowed to ask about anything we don't know. And personally, I have a very successful lawyer for a father who shares his gained wisdom with me. Sure there are plenty of things one only learns with experience, but if I was so useless or hapless as you think I am, I would never be in the big office, despite my age, get it?"
Her lecture was met with absolute silence...until Souji broke out laughing. "Oh man," he managed between chuckles "you really pissed her off and we only know her for two minutes; new personal record."
Tokio rolled her eyes. It didn't take her long to realise these two were probably partners, the whole good cop-bad cop routine ingrained in them by now. "Whatever; but now you have my pedigree, I demand to know yours. Why is it that they sent you two to me?"
"I may not look like it," Souji started "he definitely doesn't," he jabbed the tall man "but we both studied law together before entering the force; our rate of criminals caught to convicted is the highest in the precinct."
"That's a relief; you're not completely clueless." Two out of three gave a little polite laugh. "But really, this is perfect." After a long, sweeping stare, she asked "who's the best at research?"
"He is," Okita almost said it like an insult "by far. I hate all that boring stuff."
She clicked her tongue. "Damn." At their obvious question she explained "whoever does research will be working closer with me."
Okita broke out laughing for the second time; Tokio leveled a good, reprehensive glare at him while Saitou rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "I'm not thrilled either," he threw at her "but we'll have to deal."
"Just make sure you never come empty-handed: a hot cup of tea, chocolate, something in those lines should always accompany you."
"Why is that?"
"If you're coming in my office, there's a tax."
"Wait, this is your office?" She nodded yes; Saitou gave her a look. "Who's the guy in all the pictures?"
"Oh! Those are stock photos that came with the frames; I had no time to replace them."
"No time?" His tone was sarcastic. "How long have you been here?"
"Three months, detective, but I had no time; I've been working." Shaking her head, she turned around and headed for her couch. "Grab a chair and let's get to work, too; did you bring a case like the one I asked?"
"We brought three!" Okita exuberantly informed her as he pulled out three thick files from the suitcase he was carrying. "You can take your pick, Tokio-chan, but my personal favourite is the left one."
She seemed thoughtful, hand on chin. "I think I'll go with this one." She grabbed the middle one; Okita smiled.
"Hmmm, what an excellent choice! For this, we have a palatable, triple—"
"Oh god!" Tokio snapped the folder closed with her hand instinctively, eyes squeezed shut in a millisecond. "I was not prepared for that..."
"If you'd let him finish, you'd have heard," Saitou accused her as Okita patted her back but continued like she had never interrupted him.
"—triple homicide, of the gore sub-type."
She remained with her eyes closed, trying to un-see the horrific image she was going to see again; after a very deep breath, she opened the folder again but did not look at it for another second or two, trying to make sure she was adequately talked into it.
"Alright; Hajime-san, prepare a general outline of the case, establish an easy timeline and a clear suspect list for me; Okita-san, you can leave, but next time I see you, be it tomorrow or in three days from now, I will need a full report on exactly what these suspects are doing now."
"It's Souji-kun, Tokio-chan."
"Just get it done, it's important." She already had her nose buried in the file, reading greedily. "I'll need the reason each suspect was let off the hook as well as why the one you wanted to go after the most was untouchable."
"I'll tell you why: money." She looked away from her reading material for the first time and right into Hajime's eyes. "Bastard had plenty of it and uearned himself a get-out-of-jail-free card."
She nodded, equally disgusted. "Let's see if he was meticulous enough."
"He sure was; been three years and he's still at large," Okita complained.
"Why are you still here, Souji-kun?" She might have been demanding, but her tone held humour. "Go put what I asked you together."
Although Saitou had already started drafting what she asked of him, he had to stop and stare. "Bossy one, aren't you?"
"She reminds me of you on our first case, Saitou-san...!" Okita fondly recollected, causing his partner to roll his eyes.
"You deserve to be as manhandled and pushed around as she wants."
"Meanie! Bye Tokio-chan; hope I get to see you soon. It was nice meeting you."
"You, too; and thank you for your hard work!" she shouted after him as he left, giving her a thumbs up as an indication he heard her. "Once we're done for today, when can you meet me again?"
He never looked up from his task. "Tomorrow same time as today."
"It won't work for me; later?" Seeing he paid no attention to her, she too returned to her file.
"Half past eight."
"Perfect."
"Do I have homework, too?"
She refused to smile or look at him, no matter how witty she actually thought that was or how humorous his tone was. "That remains to be seen; I'll tell you after I read your timeline."
"Fair enough. Just to clarify though, will the meetings always take place here?"
"That too remains to be seen, but most possibly no."
"...where else are we going to meet?"
"A cafe, a diner, my place—whichever is more convenient at that given moment."
He spared a look for her, momentarily raising his eyebrow at her, but when he saw she wasn't joking, he simply shrugged. "Must really love your work."
She hummed in return, never quite looking up; he turned away, too because he knew that was all the answer he was going to get. Frankly, he didn't mind, he appreciated the quiet.
And just like that, the tone of their acquaintance and working environment was set. After that they exchanged few words, save for him asking her where the nearest place to order a coffee was from or her asking a detail about the case. Slowly, the day was eaten away; as the hours passed them by, so did the rest of the people working in the firm. Some came by to say goodbye, others to burden her with some task for tomorrow; a select few came just to look at the newcomer. She decided to call it a day though, only after she had read her fill.
She looked at her watch and how it was way past nine, just as she feared.. "I think it's high time we left."
He held out four pieces of paper, as she put her things together. "Ah, perfect; my lists." She skimmed them over before putting them in her own leather briefcase; of course hers was much better and definitely more expensive than Okita's. "Thank you, Hajime. I'll look at them at home; if I need anything from you before we see each other again, I'll call you." She considered. "Speaking of, I don't believe I have your contact information; I'll need it."
He held out a card immediately. "First number is mine; second is Okita's. I suggest you use both wisely."
She gave him a look. "I do not call in vain. But when I do call, I expect to hear someone on the other end. If, for whatever reason you are unable to answer, you have to call me back within the hour. If it's urgent on my part, then I'll call you a second time myself before that; if it's too urgent, I won't stop calling. Deal?"
"I didn't have such a strict call-regime even when I just got married; what's up with you?"
She chuckled. "When did you tie the knot, at twenty?" He shook his head. "Look Hajime, you and I are going to be spending a lot of time on the phone so we might as well sort out the schedule for now. What time is it not okay for me to call?"
He shook his head. "Whenever; if I can't, I won't answer."
"What if I remember something in the middle of the night and call you at three?"
He snorted. "Good luck with that." She did smile this once and he seemed satisfied by the fact. "So, can I go now? Am I allowed?"
"Class dismissed."
.
.
"Stop that."
Hajime was, she wouldn't lie, a brilliant investigator as well as researcher. His summaries as well as his findings, musings and theories she read on paper were quite clever; his methods were out of the box, too—he'd use a different approach to get suspects to admit things or cow them into custody. She appreciated that, truly. What she didn't, though, was the fact he was so smug about it. Or how he would readily take credit or brag about certain aspects of the case, leaving her no room to compliment him.
What she also hated, these three weeks she came to know and work with him was how he would. Not stop. Tapping his pen on the desk! Honestly, he did it all the goddamn time and he was only half aware of it, but she couldn't help wanting to tie his hand to the damn chair!
"Stop what?"
As his reading came to a halt, so did the tapping. The look she gave him wasn't clarifying enough, or satisfactory though, so he simply shook his head as if she was a nuisance that only wanted attention and went back to his task. The moment he did, the tapping recommenced. Her teeth ground.
"That right there! Stop that thing with your pen, I'm this close to...ugh!"
"Sorry, can't concentrate otherwise. You'll have to bear with it."
"Well, I can't concentrate if there isn't total silence."
"Too bad, Takagi. Get used to it."
"Stop it."
"Not happening."
"Stop. Doing that."
He looked at her, challenge glinting in his eyes. "Make me." She faltered, at a complete loss. "Thought so." With that self-serving smirk of his, he went back to his task. Tapping his pen, as if nothing was said.
A second; two seconds; ten; a minute went by. For the life of her, she couldn't go back to her papers. All she could think about, all she heard, was that rhythmic tap, tap, tap, on her wooden desk...
"Alright, enough is enough!"
Without warning, she marched from her sofa to the chair and grabbed the pen out of his hand! Startled, he allowed her to pry it from his fingers and watched in amazement as she put it right in front of his face, as if establishing it was in her possession, waved it and then vengefully, with hate, threw it at the wall facing her, flying right past his head!
"No more pens for you;" she barked as she made her way back, leaving a surprised Saitou behind her "use the damn laptop."
But he recovered a little too quickly for her tastes as he immediately sat back in his chair, crossing his hands. "And if the keys being pressed start annoy you what are you gonna do? Fling that at the wall, too?"
"Don't tempt me, detective."
It was spoken with ire but a hidden promise; it made him smile; a shrug later, she had gone back to her work. "It's your laptop..."
"I am aware."
"Do you have to have the last word?"
"My office, my rules."
"I take that as a yes."
"Take that however you like."
"Don't say such things; someone might hear you."
She stopped herself from responding in the nick of time; it was obvious this man in front of her was programmed to tease and infuriate people. Keeping this up only served to feed his ego. She swallowed her smile – because dirty jokes were never wasted on her – her retort and tried to focus back on her work.
But damn it, he was right; the typing started getting on her nerves in ten minutes flat. Well, she had no time to go around buying a new laptop; after plenty of bracing breaths, she turned to him and, in a flat voice asked "I'm getting myself a nice, relaxing tea; would you like to order something, too?"
"Just the usual."
"Perfect."
He hadn't expected her to physically get out of her chair and grab her coat at that, but there she was. "Wait, where are you going?"
"To get our beverages. I'm having a break to stretch my legs, or I'll snap."
"Tokio, it's very late; don't go out walking alone."
"It isn't that late."
Of course it is, his stare said; it really isn't, her defensive stance replied. He sighed, defeated. Knowing that was him giving in, she put the coat on, but turned surprised to see him do the same. "Let's walk then, stubborn woman. And if this coffee costs me more than money, I'll kill you."
"You're unexpectedly soft," she commented like the cat that ate the canary "how cute."
He fixed her with a glare, just as he was fixing his collar. "Yeah, I'm full of surprises. Move." He pushed her outside the room and she hurried along.
.
.
He was examining a victim's injuries as his pocket vibrated; the man was facing down in the middle of his kitchen. Judging by the fact he had a huge, bloody hole on his back, at the same spot the blood pooled underneath him, it was safe to assume it was a through-and through, for there was no blood dripping around the shirt. He still turned him over to make sure, always wearing gloves and just as he mentally exclaimed "bingo!" he felt his cellphone ring.
He took it out of his pocket, sparing only a glance for the caller id.
"Tokio."
That drew Okita's attention, who didn't stop examining the crime scene around him, blood spatter and the like, but made sure his ears were extended.
"I really need you to come today, but I need you to come late; can you make it?"
"How late?"
There was a brief hesitation before her next word was spoken. "Ten."
He snorted. "Are you insane, Takagi?"
"Can you come or not?"
"...I'll think about it."
"Alright; you don't have to answer me now. Just know, if you do decided to come, you'll be coming at the address I'm about to text you."
"And why is that?"
"They have started closing down the damn building," she snapped, clearly her anger directed at someone other than him "to avoid overworking us."
"Isn't this being implemented because of that dude who dropped dead in his office two days ago?"
She clicked her tongue. "Do I look like an sexagenarian with a beer belly and no living family to you!? It's them they should shoo from the building."
He chuckled. "What's at this new address then? Do I have to dress a certain way?"
"I'm jealous," Okita lamented, but he ignored him again.
"Ah, no; it's my apartment."
He looked at his phone in shock; that earned Okita's curiosity and his mouthed "what is it?" came immediately. Saitou waved him away, but couldn't help the disapproval. He only knew her for two months, she shouldn't be inviting him into her home.
"Yes, you heard right," she correctly interpreted his silence for disbelieve "I can think of no other place suitable for office work at that time of night, don't be like that."
"You're crazy; but whatever. If I decide to come, I'll be there at ten. Have some type of food ready. Bye."
He didn't wait to hear her goodbye, he hanged up, much to his friend's dismay. "Saitou-san," he drawled, complaining "why are you so mean to her? And I'm jealous; I want to dress up, too."
"I'm not mean; and I won't be dressing up. Now let's please go back to our victim. For all we know, with a little luck, he'll be our last."
A hopeful smile was shared between them.
One of the reasons he bore with Tokio's moods and insane timetables was because, should two of their cold cases be properly solved, they were eligible for a most advantageous promotion. Both were looking quite forward to it; internal affairs always held great appeal to the men and now, being right in their grasp, made everything more manageable...even her, with her demands and overly organised schedules. Then again, it showed a devotion to her work and an ethic he hadn't seen for a long time.
Shrugging, without really registering it until very late that night, he had already made up his mind: he'd go, there was no way he wouldn't.
.
"Hajime-san, can I make a personal question?"
"I don't like the preface, but sure."
They were in her living room, several hours after the phone call he received, doing their usual work, but instead of her chairs, they both used sofas. There were three of them around a rectangle black table made of thick wood and space for two huge drawers underneath it that she had filled to the brim with papers of all kinds. The sofas themselves were black, leather and maybe the most comfortable pieces of furniture he had ever sat in.
Currently, the table had no vases, or pictures, or whatever it was usually decorated with; it only had room for empty containers of food, bottles of beer and an ashtray, on Saitou's left. Being the guest, he had first pick and of course he went for the armchair. She almost cried when she saw him sit there but got over it when she realised her puppy eyes wouldn't work.
And now, when the clock showed fifty past twelve, she was curled on her smaller sofa, reading a document and decided to pose this question. He was bound to be wary.
"How come you're here?" Alright, it was late, even for him. Maybe he misheard. Looking up at her though, he saw her chuckle and raise her hands in a "I promise I'll explain" manner, so he decided he heard right. "I mean, you didn't have to come; but here you are. You did mention you were married once, too, what does your wife think of you being unreachable a Friday night—or being alone with a woman, too."
He looked down, trying to fight the smirk. "If you think she'll be upset why invite me?"
"Well," she immediately grew deep red "I am the type of person who just asks for things; if you give them to me, I'll keep asking. But if you say no, I won't hold it against you, especially because I know they may be a little out there." She put her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I really don't mean to cause a problem in your relationship!"
Finally, he cracked a real smile. "Relax, I was only pulling your leg; I'm divorced."
"Oh." She went through five emotions all at once and settled at unbridled anger. Without a shred of hesitation, she threw him her slipper. "Ass; how long ago did she escape you?"
"A year and a half, approximately."
"That's a long while ago," she mused out loud "no girlfriend?"
He snorted. "No time for one, or mood; it was a bad separation."
"How so?"
"Yaso went crazy and started accusing me for anything under the sun; all because I dared refuse her to write it up as mutual; but she was the one who wanted the divorce. I just wanted the papers to reflect that."
"Oh? That's interesting. Did you cheat on her?" She chuckled. "It was only a question, no need to glare like that. But then, why?" When he sighed, visibly annoyed, she raised her hands defensively for the second time. "No need to answer; I'm just curious."
He blew air out of his nose, as if that settled the argument and she couldn't help but laugh. For some reason, it irritated him to his very core. "How about you then?" He asked almost vengefully. "You've no life, too."
But her answer was far more clipped. "I swore off men two years ago when a stuck up lawyer I was kind of dating began measuring careers." She clicked her tongue. "Not only did he think he was smarter than me, he was also convinced he'd do so much better than me because I was a woman." She looked disgusted. "Ever since, I decided I had no time for men; if they were worth the wait, they'd wait."
"I see sexism in law is as rampant as it is in the police."
She nearly spat on the floor, but decided to simply click her tongue. "Yes, lovely, isn't it?"
Another slipper hit him when he said nothing in return and he sighed. "I'm not the one doubting your skills, am I?" he deadpanned, voice emotionless. "Save it for the asshole who told you that."
Her eyes shone dangerously. "He got a slap in the face and it was still way less than he deserved."
"Tokio, I genuinely think you have anger management issues."
He was met with silence.
.
.
Huh; that was rare. She heard her phone ring and the caller id wrote Hajime. These two months they knew each other, he had never called her first about anything, he just waited her to do it and then inform her of whatever he wanted. Was this...an emergency? The idea alone unsettled her.
"This is Tokio."
"Can we meet at my place tonight? I can't leave the house after six."
Okay, what? She blinked twice. "Did a witch finally curse you to turn into a frog if you do?"
"Tokio, stop, this is serious," he said through chuckles "I need to know now."
"No problem."
"Perfect; I'll send you the address. You may come whenever you want after seven. Bring food."
Per usual, he hanged up first, before she even said bye. What a gentleman.
.
She hadn't expected him to live in such a quaint little neighborhood. He didn't even have an apartment, no, it was a duplex. He did say he was the one on the second floor; she wondered how the hell she'd know which one, but now it made sense. After she checked her smart phone twice, to make sure google maps brought her to the right place, she stepped out of her car. Tentatively, she started ascending the stairs.
When she came close to the door, ready to ring the bell, barking was heard; from the pitch, it must have been a big one. She strained her ears to make sure and yes, it came from Hajime's house; her eyes grew wide and instinctively held the bag with the food tighter and higher. Dogs tend to go for the food.
"Rai, calm down," Hajime's voice cut through the noise "it's a guest."
The dog surprisingly did as he ordered. She was impressed. Then the actual door opened, without her ever ringing the bell and there Hajime was, wearing sweatpants and a simple black tee. But, what she was really interested in was the canine behind him. She bend to the left, to see between his hands while handing him the food indelicately.
"Hey," was all she said and kicked off her green pumps to enter and focus on the delightfully huge akita inu named Rai. He wasn't the usual white-caramel combination and he must have been a mix with something bigger but he was so cute!
She immediately sat in front of the dog, which other than sniff the air around her didn't move a single muscle, and held out her hand. She watched as the dog looked up at his owner and only after he nodded as he closed the door did Rai give her his paw.
"Awww, what a good boy! Give me a hug."
The dog jumped on her too soon and she lost her balance; both human and canine were now on the floor, with the poor akita licking her face away to make up for knocking her down.
"He's a little enthusiastic," Saitou excused his dog but did nothing to help, seeing she was actually enjoying the dog's affection by patting and petting and had already sat up again. "Thanks for the food."
"If you'd told me, I'd have brought something for him, too!" she held accusation in her voice, because she always loved dogs; she could just never have one. And she wanted to give him treats damn it!
He looked back, in the kitchen by now, that was one big room with the living room. She was cleaning her glasses on her shirt, ruining her look, because the shirt was tucked in her skirt. "He's been gaining weight lately and the vet said we should only feed him his dry food."
"Awww, poor Rai." Only then did she realise. "Is this why you couldn't leave?"
He nodded. "I'd forgotten his walker was unavailable today."
"Ha ha, just like a single father; how long do you have him?"
"A year, found him at a crime scene. Took him home with me and he's been here ever since."
"That's so cute...! To think you have at least one redeeming quality, how odd."
"He was abandoned by his owner; he was the key to the case actually," he shared, but not before he jabbed at her sides.
She tried not to show it hurt. "Good Rai." The dog nuzzled her; she could have melted. Jab worth it.
"Couldn't just leave him there," he continued as he brought two plates and glasses to the table at the living room. "And once the case was over, he was already attached."
He grabbed two beers out of the fridge and left it next to the glasses. "Whatever; he's mine now. I suggest we eat before we start with the case."
"As you wish; did Okita bring you the account analysis of the father and Hiro's bank statement?"
"All here," he assured her "but first: change, woman; I see you fold yourself in these clothes and feel sorry for them."
"I came straight from work, I didn't bring anything."
"Unless you're worried about your style, I have clothes you can wear."
"Seriously?"
"Sister visits from times to times."
She snorted. "I forget you are not an only child with that attitude."
"That's my line; case in point, instead of asking where the clothes are you expect me to bring them to you."
"It's your house! I've never been here before, what do you want me to do? Rummage your closet?"
"They are in the second shelf under the pillowcases. Go choose what you like."
Flabbergasted, she shook her head but did as he wanted, seeing he simply came and sat next to her. "Change in there, too—Rai, you stay here."
"I don't care, it's a dog," she shouted indignant. That was all the permission he needed; Rai went after her, wagging his tail. "It's because he doesn't see women often," Tokio teased when she came back "he finds the female figure a mystery."
"I don't see how the mystery is solved with what you chose to wear..."
Her mouth hung open at the insult; her hand snatched a pillow off his couch and flung it at him! "You said it yourself—these are just borrowed clothes I can feel comfortable in! So what if they are a little baggy?"
"A little, she says..."
Her colour started changing at an alarming rate. "You know what, you're being ridiculous; Rai saw me naked, mystery solved...for the dog at least."
"Oh please; you—"
His cellphone started ringing; both stopped arguing and Tokio simply sat down.
"Aren't you going to get it?"
"I'm thinking about it; I don't know the number."
Her eyes slid to him. "You think someone would prank-call you?"
"Good point." He swiped right. "This is detective Saitou." In mere three seconds, Tokio watched his face transform from amused to expressionless to something unreadable altogether; she grew worried instantly. "I told you not to call me; I told you not to bother me at all. Stop calling."
He hung up.
For a long moment, Tokio remained completely immobile, hand hovering over her chopsticks. Saitou put his phone down, somber and took a deep breath. "Let's eat." Just like that, he reverted back to his usual nonplussed behaviour. She...blinked. Withdrawing her hand, she looked at him evenly.
"Who was it?"
"...my ex-wife."
"Is she still calling you?" she asked scandalised. He nodded affirmatively. "But wasn't she the one who wanted the divorce? And how long has she been calling you?"
"You think that's the worst of it?" He snorted. "She's married to another guy; that's why she wanted the divorce." Her mouth flew over her mouth, looking morally outraged. "She was married before the month was out."
"And she's calling you? Why?"
"It's nothing life-threatening; I made sure before I started hanging up on her."
Furious, Tokio grabbed her chopsticks in her fist and stabbed a piece of pork. "Block her and don't fall for her tricks—at best, she doesn't want you moving on; at worst, she's trying to drag you into something unethical."
"I know Tokio," he finally smirked "because I know Yaso; she always had issues with attention. If she's not getting all of it, at all times, it's as if you aren't giving her any. One of the reasons she left me."
Her lips curled into a smug, lopsided grin. "Was that what you weren't giving her enough of? Attention?"
He was about to grab some noodles with his chopsticks, but changed his mind last minute. "Yes," he accentuated it by pinching her nose with them "we were all good on the other front."
"Maybe not," she popped a shrimp in her mouth "she did leave you."
"Trust me," he stole the mushroom out of her chopsticks with his "I asked. It wasn't like she woke up one morning and decided to find a new husband. It was mostly lack of attention and, sadly, lack of resources."
"In other words, she wanted some rich guy who would worship the ground she walked on."
"Right you are. Sex, surprisingly, had nothing to do with it."
She hummed, as she took another bite. "Once we are finished with the food, I'll need your help to track down the transactions I told you about."
"As you wish."
.
"Tokio."
She felt a nudge; it was soft but certain. But she lived alone. Did her mother come to visit?
"Tokio, wake up..."
Someone licked at her face; she didn't own a dog. Her eyes snapped open at the realisation and sat up immediately. When she saw a huge black akita licking away at her, she started finding her bearings again; then she saw Saitou standing next to her in his tracksuit and remembered.
"I'm, I'm up, I'm up; what time is it?"
"It's two in the morning."
"It's what!?"
She made to leave, but came to the conclusion her foot had fallen asleep and refrained from moving not to fall off his couch.
"I know, it's pretty late."
"I only closed my eyes for a second; how did an hour and a half go by?"
"I meant to wake you earlier but I was working another case."
"Nah," a stretch and a yawn "that's fine." She tried to stand, but didn't make it. "Sorry, I'll get up any moment now..."
He raised a palm pacifyingly. "Neither works on Sundays, take your time."
"Then do you mind if I crush here?" He gave her a look. "I'm not in the way, right? I'll sleep on the couch with Rai; I'll be fine."
He looked to the side, hands in his pockets; then at the watch on the wall. He considered. "Suit yourself. But I'm an early riser."
"Me, too." She gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks." When she lay back down, Rai tilted his huge furry head in wonder. "Heard that Rai? I'm staying!"
"And you can stay with her," he motioned for him to stay "you don't have to leave. Couch is okay."
The dog barked once, ecstatic; he shook his head as he sauntered to the bathroom, starting his nighttime routine. Brush teeth, wash face, go change into his nightclothes. Considering Tokio was there, it was hard to wear what he usually did – meaning, strip to his boxers – so he used his pajamas after at least a year. He still shook his head, even as he put them on; he hadn't had a real visitor for a long time and somehow it happened to be her. He didn't mind her, but...she made him feel uncomfortable. It wasn't on purpose, nor was it too pronounced. But something about her presence made his fingers twitch; his stomach a little upset.
He didn't know what it was, only that it happened every single time he saw her...for all two plus change months he met her. But now, he had no choice. Maybe he should text Okita, ask him to come over to talk about their – hopefully – last case to have a pretext to get her out the door early. And yet, as he opened his messaging app, he hesitated.
A sigh escaped him. He was never indecisive; why was he like this now?
With another sigh, he went from his room to the living room, to let her know there was a pillow and a blanket she could use.
"Huh."
She had fallen asleep, Rai on her feet. He chuckled. Alright, guess she really was spoiled; now he had to go get her those things. What a brat. He bet she was one of those people her parents handed her everything. Definitely a daddy's girl, if she followed his occupation and asked him about things and shared stories. Then again, there was nothing wrong with having a good relationship with your parents, rich or poor.
He walked through his musings and before he knew it he was standing over her with what she needed. He didn't hesitate to raise her head and put the pillow there, but it caused her to move and hit him on the shin with the back of her hand. He almost flicked her forehead! Even in her sleep, this woman was inflicting some sort of harm on him. Shaking his head for the umpteenth time, he covered her, careful not to cover Rai, too; he decided to leave once he heard her sigh content in her sleep, thus he was sure she was comfortable.
What a day. In the end, he did send Okita that message. The less time she was around him, the better. For some reason, he didn't feel like himself when she was around. To think he fetched her a blanket, how ridiculous...
But that wasn't the oddest thing to happen. The very next morning, he woke up to the sounds of voices; familiar ones. And they weren't just speaking for the sake of making noise, no. They were conversing. He was a little sleepy yet, but not enough not to distinguish his best friend's voice, happily chatting away with his surprise guest.
Ugh, what time was it? How earlier than planned did Okita come?
Looking at his watch, it read ten.
Wait, what? He set his alarm clock for eight! Almost panicked, he shot off the bed and changed into his tracksuit and black tee in record time. How did he sleep through the alarm clock? And why didn't Rai bark?
"The hell didn't you wake me when you arrived, ass?"
"Good morning Hajime! I see you slept well," Tokio teased, his bad mood evident just from his posture; but she was smiling, while petting his dog idly, who only wagged his tail to show his happiness his master was awake.
"Good morning you bastard! You're no fair; why do you get Tokio-chan to sleep here and not tell me anything? I'm jealous. She even made you breakfast."
That was surprising. "You have?"
She clicked her tongue at his disbelief. "I finished it just ten minutes ago, a little after Sou-kun showed up."
He craned his neck to where she nodded, the kitchen counter, curious. He sniffed the air and yes, something sweet wafted about. "I see."
"You can go for a shower or whatever; there's plenty of hot water left. I also washed some clothes in the short program and pressed them, hope you don't mind. I wanted to wear my clothes fresh, so I put in some of your shirts, too, not to waste too much."
He was about to speak, a little out of sorts, when Okita whined again. "I'm so jealous, you bastard! Next time, come over at my place, Tokio-chan. I may not have a dog, but I am better company that him!"
"Shut up," he snubbed his friend though why, he did not know; he was certain all of what he just told her was true. "I'm having breakfast and then we'll walk Rai for the morning; then, Okita and I are working our case. Since you're still not ready, you can leave with us or once we come back."
"Oh!" She waved him away. "There's no need for that; I already did it." He stared openly at her. "What? I've been awake since seven! I had to do something..."
At least that explained why Rai had no left over energy to come tackle him once he emerged from the bedroom. Somehow, he was still displeased. "And you had the gall to say you couldn't find the clothes yourself yesterday."
"I still wouldn't know where to find your clothes!"
"Yet, you haven't been here for half a day and you've already made yourself comfortable—too comfortable."
"Well, excuse me for trying to help; my parents taught me to be a nice guest to my host, but apparently being nice to you is only acceptable after one makes their intentions known formally, in writing, with seal and everything."
"Takagi, I just woke up; no sentences longer than twenty words. Didn't even have coffee yet..."
"Tokio-chan brewed some for the lot of us!" Okita informed, slightly nodding to his coffee maker. "Go have a cup and eat your omurice; once you're done, we're starting on the case."
"Perfect! Then, I'll go change." Only when she got her clothes from the hangers did he realise the ironing board was propped up against the wall, iron next to it and about ten shirts on hangers all around the living room.
He just stood there, shell-shocked, as she bypassed him in that upbeat step of hers. He turned to his friend who started laughing, but quietly.
"Did that just happen?" He processed all of the information. "Did she say she walked my dog?"
"She did and yeah, she did; I found her while walking him in fact and joined her." cheery as ever, the short man stood and went right next to him. "If I were you, I'd invite her over more often," he whispered in his conspirator's drawl and headed for the kitchen. "Now eat so we can get started."
"Right..."
In the end none of his questions were answered, he realised, as she emerged, fully dressed and professional. She bid her goodbyes, informed him how she'd be expecting him tomorrow at the usual time at her office and left.
Okita, for some reason, went to his bedroom; he seemed vindicated in the end, for a laugh was heard, hearty and boisterous. "Oh man, she made your bed and opened the windows, too," he came back out, closing the door "keep her. If you let her stay for more than a day, she'll put the entire house in order. God knows it needs a woman's touch," he finished, shooting a judgmental look at everything around him.
It preoccupied him so much, he missed the slap. "Idiot." Having her here meant a lot more than just that; as if he didn't understand. Or maybe that's why he said it, knowing him. "For what's worth, the food was really good though."
.
.
"Would you please stop that."
A knowing smirk curled his lips; even he couldn't count how many times they have had this exact conversation. "Make me."
This once, he watched her stand and without a shred of hesitation, grab one very heavy, very old book she had on her coffee table, that he had originally thought was just for show. Turns out he was wrong: it was also her weapon of choice, if he judged how well she wielded it against him and his temple. He stopped the full burnt of the hit with his hand but a part of the spine still found his head.
"One could say you're abusing me, Takagi."
"One could say you're mentally torturing me, Hajime. Self-defense is protected a law-given right."
She was never boring, he had to hand it to her; each time, she used a different type of violence against him, be it her hands, feet, books, or other utensils. Once, it had been a plastic spoon.
"You have an answer for everything, I see."
"Huh! Not quite." There it was, the true reason for her ire. "Apparently this case is a true mystery! How did that bastard manage to get away with the murders? I've been looking at this from every possible direction for the past three months, being as meticulous as I've never been before and yet, nothing! Pretend you never heard this but the methods you used to capture him were both creative and unconventional. How could he have predicted all of them? One, fine; two, okay; all five? That's ridiculous..."
He sat in the armchair better. "What are you trying to say, Takagi?"
She became smaller, folded in on herself. Averting her eyes, she looked to her lamp and turned it on. For some reason, then, she proceeded to close the lights in the rest of the house and without fail, march right to him and sit on the bigger table around her sofas. She crossed her hands. "I firmly believe there was foul play involved." Her eyes now looked right into his. "From within the force."
"A mole."
She nodded grimly; he cursed. Well, she didn't blame him.
"Hajime," she started then and commanded his absolute attention not just by the note of undisputed authority in her voice, but also because she put her hand on his knee. He first looked at the hand and then her. "I will ask you this once and only once, in this room right here so please answer me truthfully:" a deep breath from her; his chest rose with a sharp intake of breath "how much do you trust Okita?"
He exhaled; this wasn't what he thought would leave her lips. "I trust him with my life." He chuckled. "He's more than just a detective; he believes in what he does."
"Alright, that's all I wanted to hear."
But then, he cocked his head to the right. "That was not what I expected to hear though." She literally kept him guessing, how stressful. "If I were you, my first suspect would have been me." They shared a look for a moment. "Why aren't you questioning my motives, Tokio?"
"Well," she started as she turned her eyes to the floor "I got to know you well enough to know it can't be you. That's not your character; I would have noticed something. But, given you aren't well-liked within the precinct, if there was even a suspicion you were dirty, the others would have exploited it already."
"I see." A lopsided smirk formed. "So, basically, you trust your instincts that tell you to trust me; the rest are just an excuse."
She hit his chest with the back of he hand. "Don't be so obnoxious, detective." She rose and went back to her folded pose, only this once she sat as close to him as possible. "We still have to find out who did it and why and hopefully expose them."
A smirk formed. "Didn't I tell you Okita and I are gunning for internal affairs?" She nodded. "This will be the best warm-up."
"Fair enough," she found it in her to chuckle "but if that's the case, we have to look at this from a whole different perspective; just writing down how many uniforms and higher ups were involved in this will take up a lot of time. Okita will be informed, naturally; he'll play his part, too. But it will still take a long time just to narrow down a suspect and—"
"Tokio."
His voice put a stop to her mumbling. It was too obvious to him, her panic, her fear. She had never been involved in such a thing, it made sense, but they had to be calm about this. Only after he had her undivided attention did he go on.
"We can do this." Slowly, she nodded. "We'll form our plan once we have a clearer picture of who may be responsible." She nodded again, this time faster. "Now, the best thing we have to do right now, is put all the files down. We won't get anything done tonight. Let's just call it a day."
He leaned forward, elbows on his legs. In two seconds, he was already rubbing his eyes, with the flat of his palms. This...was going to be difficult.
"You know, Hajime, if anyone asked, I'd say you're taking this a little too well." She regarded him. "Could it be you already knew?" He let one hand fall and with the available eye turned to look at her shrewdly. "It is your case after all."
"I've had my suspicions for a while now," he admitted after a long moment "but Okita was reluctant to accept that as the only reason; one of the reasons we brought this case to you."
"I chose it though."
He chuckled. "Why do you think he suggested the left one? He saw you were contentious by nature."
"You manipulated me...!"
"He did," he clarified immediately, knowing full well the consequences admitting this would bring if he didn't shrug off the responsibility. "he. He's the sneaky one. Don't let the happy-go-lucky exterior fool you."
A glare later, she gave up. "Know what?" She looked at her phone and it was barely twelve. "It's not that late; and today's events are a little overwhelming. Wanna go for a drink?"
He considered; he was about to refuse her, when he remembered he had literally nothing else to do, other than sleep. So, "why not?"
Both stood at the same time, she stretched, he cracked his neck and once their shoes were on, they were out the door. "I know a great place two blocks from here! Unless you wanna split the distance and we go downtown."
"I don't care. Ah, don't," he stopped her from getting her keys "I'll drive you back. But you're buying first round."
She nodded excited. "Two blocks away it is!"
A/N: I don't know why, but she had to be a little violent in this reincarnation of hers xD I enjoy writing it though. Also, yes, she has no concept of boundaries. Poor Hajime, I really feel like I'll be putting him through a lot in this particular fic. But he can handle it.
Anyway, let me know what you thought about it; leave a review. Save an author's heart. Love you darlings.
Kisses,
FAI~!