In every breath, life or universe

by FallenAngelItachi

A collection of multiple takes on the relationship of the same two people: Saitou and Tokio. AUs galore. Each take will span a couple of chapters, maybe three. Credit to legalronin, she did it first. Just wanted to try my hand, too.

22. Second chances

A/N: Heeeeeey pretties! New story, yay. But it's going to be a one-shot. I know, I should be writing other things but yeah, no; this got stuck. This and another one. And a third one. Hopefully I'll have time for all of them. Hope you like this one. Many kisses, see you at the end.

Beta'd by Error205. And she had a lot of things to say about this story, lol.

Title: Second chances
Genre: Romance
Alternative Universe: Modern Day

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The heel of his foot tapped the floor, speed increasing the longer he spent sitting on the bench alone. With such long legs, lean and hunched as he was, he looked like an insect—about to fly away out of sheer frustration. How long could it take for a child to try on a coat? A coat. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair, stray tufts falling in front of his eyes, but otherwise, they stayed as they were, combed back and long enough to hang there without gel.

He looked inside the store he watched the two of them disappear into, the third in a row of countless shops, broken off only by storefronts of street food places and – way further down the line – restaurants. Oh great, they weren't even visible. They must be in a dressing room—who needs a dressing room for a coat? Obviously, they were trying on more things. Just great.

Women, he thought, rolling his eyes. He just hoped it was only the young one that tried something on, not the older one, too or they'd be there forever—him included, sitting on this bench, waiting for them to emerge.

But, if that was the case, he figured he had time to light a cigarette. Taking the pack out his jacket's pocket, the lighter out of his pants' pocket, he isolated one, brought it to his mouth and lit it. Ah, the first drag was always the most satisfying one...! He put the things back in their places and stood; he didn't want her to see him smoke and he always avoided it when he could, so he headed to the corner that hid him from their sight, if they were to walk out.

His ears twitched; for some reason, he felt his skin crawl. He was confused. Yes, he heard something, but what was it? A voice...? He eavesdropped. Yes, it was a voice; a woman's voice. He didn't know why, but his heartbeat quickened. Why was he being nervous? He concentrated, trying to listen to the actual conversation as well as where the hell it actually came from.

"Yes mother," he heard the tired drawl and electricity ran through him "I will call you as soon as I get off the train. I promise."

Now he knew why.

The voice was familiar, too familiar; but could it be? He looked to his right, craned his neck and then actually took the turn, to find himself to the other side of the shops and, sure enough, he spotted her: a short woman, talking on the phone, black hair up on a bun but by the sheer volume and density of it, one could tell there was a lot of it up there. The figure standing on the sidewalk, next tot he wall, matched the one he remembered, more or less, and the voice was the same; but most importantly, so where the mannerisms. Now he could feel his heart hammer in his chest, doubt yet certainty moving his feet close.

"I told you, I will; why don't you trust me? Have I ever lied to you?" She clicked her tongue, unaware of the tall man approaching her. "Bye mother; no, I will call. I will; bye mother. Bye mother,"

"Tokio?"

The woman's shoulders squared, bite leaving her voice in an instant; she immediately turned around to the source of the voice, eyes wide and when she saw him, correctly looking up as much she did, her mouth hang lamely; a snort of laughter followed, a wide smile took over her face.

Oh god, it was her. It really was.

"I'll call you, bye mother," she summarily finished and once her attention was fully on him she smiled wider, disbelievingly. "Hajime." even her tone betrayed how surprised she was to see him there, but at least, it was all pleasant. "I...can't believe it's you, oh my god."

Unceremoniously, she opened her arms wide and, instinctively, he bent down to accommodate her; she wrapped them tight around him and squeezed, rocking herself on her tiptoes. "It's so good to see you again, it's been so long! So, so long."

"I know," he patted her back lightly "it's been a long time."

"How are you?" With a hug lasting little longer than proper, but who cared, she finally let go of him. "You look well! In fact, you look exactly the same...yet completely different."

They both laughed at that, her always more unrestrained than him. She couldn't help be a little too happy though, she felt giddy; to think she saw him again and so soon, amazing.

"Right back at you; look at that," he motioned to her ear and the two additional piercings she had from the last time he saw her "or that." Just underneath her collarbone, a tattoo started, going under her low-cut blouse, towards the left arm.

She laughed heartily. "You should see my other ones." she winked; he smiled.

In fact, she was exactly as he remembered her, but entirely different; those wrinkles when she smiled where the same; her smile was the same, too; her figure, her hands, her gesticulations as she talked, all identical. Just, she was dressed different now, more confidently, more like herself. She had tattoos and extra piercings now, wore more rings, too. And yet, she was the same. He just stood there, watching her for a very long time, not caring that it wasn't all that appropriate. He needed to look at her, make sure she was real, drink in her image. She had changed completely, yet not at all. Just like him.

She, of course didn't do much different; her smile was wide, compared to his neutral expression, but other than that, she simply stared, taking him in. Always tall, always imposing; always stood straight. And those amber eyes of his, so piercing, so beautiful.

"So, how are you? Why are you here? You really do look well."

"I look better than I feel," he confided in her and her mouth turned downwards. Always so expressive, he loved that. How he remained so calm and acted like nothing was amiss he did not know, because he felt like he was about to burst. "But I am quite well."

She swallowed. "I heard you got married," she tried to start a conversation.

"Your information is correct but outdated; I am currently divorced."

"Oh; I'm sorry to hear that." But are you really, Tokio, her mind teased her and the blush had to be creeping up on her already.

"Thank you; how about you?"

"Oh, I uh," she chuckled "no such thing; not...nah, no way. I wasn't going to stay there, so I didn't want any ties."

It was a good thing she started this conversation; he could gain plenty of information about her status, too. Somehow, he was happy she was still single but he could not place why. "Sensible choice, I guess..." A smirk. "Though you never were one to make them."

"Hey, I detest that." When she smacked his arm, he knew she took no offense. "God, it's so good to see you again; and so soon, too! I just came back not three days ago."

"From where this once?"

"Ireland." He nodded; she smiled, knowing something he didn't. "I came back...for good." There it was; his eyebrows raised, interest recaptured. "I came home."

Oops; the pit of his stomach disappeared; his intestines became a knot. "Did you?" She nodded. "Six years were too much, huh?"

"Six years was what it took for me to say I'm retiring," she laughed "I made enough money for a lifetime; now it's back to base and I'll only deal with projects I deeply care about. I did make a name for myself, too so..."

His mind was reeling from that statement. "One could say leaving was the best choice you ever made then."

She could read him like a book. Even after six years, nothing about this man changed. She could tell he was thrilled to see her, for his eyes were peeled on her, never leaving her face for more than two seconds, chest out and proud; and now, eyes to the side, smirk lowering to a grin, he was sad about something. Or remorseful. If it was what she thought it was, she could have slapped him! Not because he was offending her, but himself. Hurt as well as a little heartbroken he still thought like that, she tried to play it off.

"Maybe, financially."

"Oh please, look at you; you look amazing. It did you good, in general."

"...it was lonely though."

He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He stopped. Somehow, for her to tell him that, felt like a slap to the face for more reasons that one. A wake up call maybe, too. He coughed, to hide his unspoken words.

"Shopping I see;" referring to the bags at her feet "and not even three days that you're back."

She pursed her lips, pretending to be slighted. "I wanted to walk the streets, if you must know, reacquaint myself with Kyoto; and I just so happened to catch a glimpse of things I needed to buy."

"Ah, is that so?" She nodded, loftily. "And it has nothing to do with shiny things?"

She fought really hard not to laugh. "Only a tenth," she assured and he couldn't help the smile.

"A tenth? That's an improvement; it used to be at least three tenths."

She did laugh this once. "I missed this..." she whispered, mostly to herself but he heard it; she didn't notice, but he did.

Something burnt in his chest that moment, which reminded him very much of hope; what he was hoping for, he could not tell yet. Still, he decided to test his theory. "It feels like it was only yesterday I'd complain about your shopping habits, actually; why did you spend that much on a pair of boots? And why are you buying a fifth trench-coat, do you really need it?"

"Or the ring; you had thrown a fit when I bought that ring."

"Ah, the ring."

She laughed hard; his tone as if he being confronted with his greatest enemy, was hilarious. "Yes, the ring; remember what you'd said? If it ain't for the middle finger, no more than three figures," she mimicked his voice, quite accurately.

He shook his head. "I still stand by that."

"Of course you do." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Just like you insisted you were always right." His natural, "but I am" went ignored. "So, you had to sleep on the right side of the bed, too."

Even before he ever spoke, just by the defensive position he took, one could tell this was a repeated argument. "But that's where the only nightstand was and I always put my alarm clock on it; you didn't have to wake up until after nine, I woke up at six!"

"But you're left-handed—left side is more convenient for you."

"You do remember you wouldn't let me put the nightstand on the left because it didn't look right, yeah?"

Her entire being vibrated. "It would look terrible, I believe were my exact words and it would—it didn't go there!"

"So, it stayed there; where I should've been, too." He snorted. "Not that logic ever stopped you; you did always take the right side and then complained I woke you up when the alarm went off."

"There was perfectly working floor on your left."

"No one puts their alarm clock on the floor, that's ridiculous."

"I did; still do."

"You aren't the norm, we've discussed this before."

They both gave their equivalent of a polite laugh, memories flooding back; it was uncanny how easily they fell back into old behaviors. She dared look at him in the eyes only for a second. "So, why are you here, detective? You never answered."

"Oh, right; I'm here to pick out a birthday present for my niece." Her face lit up. "She's turning five," he said with superfluous severity "she's a big girl now." She laughed. "Or so she said. And I've been wanting to buy her something nice but I never managed so I decided this was the best moment."

"Right."

"So, I went to my sister and asked, what do you need for her? She advised me to just get her a present, but one that'll last. I immediately thought: jewelry."

They spoke the last word at the same time. She knew him so well. "She has her ears pierced so I decided on earrings, instead of a name tag, she'll wear it more."

"Oh definitely."

"But when I told her, she said she wanted to come, too; she didn't trust my taste."

Tokio laughed. "What a little devil." She shook her head. "But she should reconsider; you always bought the nicest presents, I can confirm."

"Not just that; she brought her aunt along, too." He shook his head. "She has good taste, or so Sachi says. But, before we ever reached the jeweler's, Chizuru saw something she'd like to get her—it's Sachi's birthday, after all. And now here I am, waiting for them to come out..." he nodded to the place the store was supposed to be, from the other side. "And they are taking forever; but it was just a coat."

"Like you don't know how those things go; why don't you try this lovely dress, too—it'll go better with the coat, just so you can have a better image in your head—and before you know it, you're buying two pairs of pants and a dress." He nodded, morosely. "Or maybe they are out already and you missed them?"

"Nah; I hate Sachi seeing me smoke. Chizuru knows where to find me. At least, she'd look around."

"I see." A pause. "Though I never did appreciate you smoking, too."

"Well, it's a thing." Her stare was reprimanding. "It's a thing and it isn't going away."

"...I suppose..." A smile. "So, next stop it's the jewelry shop?"

"Suzuki's."

"Ah, that always had the best wares; that's where I got the ring from."

She snickered at his clipped "I remember."

"Well, if I'm not being too forward, do you mind if I came with you? I'm looking for a wristwatch, my old one died and the one I have left is too nice to wear daily."

"Not at all," he shrugged "more opinions for her little highness."

He never managed to smoke that cigarette; they just walked back at the front of the shop, to that same bench. As they sat there, an awkward silence spread between them, buzzing. Well, it made sense; there were so many things he wanted to ask her. He kept stealing glances at her, making sure she was still there, next to him. It was surreal. He hadn't seen her for such a long time...!

"If you don't mind my asking," she started at the hundredth time she caught his eyes "why did you separate with...what's her name?"

"Yaso." His eyes slid to her. "Want my version or hers?"

"I'm asking you, aren't I?"

He sighed, joking mood dying. "We clearly rushed into it; it was an immature decision that ended equally immaturely." When she motioned with her hand; he looked away. "We married something less than five years ago; divorced three years later."

It was a good thing he wasn't looking at her, because he missed her shock because ouch; it was barely a year after she'd left—if she didn't know him any better, she'd say she mattered very little to him. But, knowing how his brain worked, this was most him reacting to the fact she left. If they didn't work out, that they'd been together for so long then maybe not being too long together would work. Only it didn't. Naturally.

"2017 was a tough year for Japan's national average; my sister got divorced then, too!"

"What? Really? Tsuki—that Tsuki?" Tokio nodded, sadly. "What happened?"

"Prince charming wasn't all that charming after all, just like I warned her, but she didn't listen." Tokio shrugged. "And now there's a child in the middle of all of that."

"Thankfully, there was no child in my divorce."

"That's a relief."

Just then, his eye caught his niece, coming to the door. "That's them."

"That's your niece?" He nodded. "Awwwww, she's so cute! Look at those pigtails, oh my god." He smiled. "And her little dress, she's so adorable."

"She is; and she leads everyone around by the nose."

She laughed. "I bet!" Just as the door opened and out walked the two desired people, Tokio sprang to her feet. "Hello!" She looked at both aunt and niece, who, the latter was about to fall over from the sheer weight of the bags she insisted on carrying. If fact, Tokio's salute stopped their argument. "My name is Takagi Tokio, I'm a friend of your uncle's." Then she actually bent her legs low, reaching the girl's height. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Yuzuu Sachi, hello."

"What a big, strong girl you are," she complimented, "carrying both bags on your own. Aren't they heavy?"

"I can do it!"

She almost stumbled though; her aunt sighed annoyed. "Maybe you should give them to me anyway."

"No; they are mine." the girl stubbornly refused, clutching them close.

Tokio knew exactly what to do. "Sachi, doesn't aunt love you very much?"

"Yes..."

"So, when she says she wants the bags, do you think she wants them for herself or to help you?"

"...help me."

"Is aunt taller than you?"

"Yes."

"So, if aunt, who loves you very, very much, and is taller than you wants to holds your bags to help you...what should you do?"

"B...but I can carry them on my own..."

"And if you were alone, you should! See? I'm carrying my own bags. But you aren't alone; you're with family. Let them help you, yes?"

"...yes." Sachi looked up at her aunt, still a little possessive of her presents. "Here, Chizuru-nee-san."

"Thank you sweetie."

Still, instead of her aunt, it was her uncle that took them. He actually pried Tokio's bags out of her hands, too. "I'm taller," was all he told his niece and Sachi giggled.

Tokio, being polite, looked up, to see a familiar face, finally standing. "Hello, Chizuru-san; long time no see." To her wondered look, Tokio chuckled. "You're Hoshi's sister, right?"

"You do look kind of familiar, too; I definitely heard your name before. Where did we meet?"

"At your brother's wedding for sure, but I think—"

"Oh! Aren't you—weren't you-?" She pointed at Hajime and her and then both at the same time with both hands, and Tokio simply nodded. "I remember you now! Wow, what are you doing here? You're back or something? You look great! Though you did put on a little weight."

"Thanks," she said between the disbelieving chuckles "at least you remembered me."

"Sorry, but we never call you Tokio, so it took a while."

A smirk came to her lips. "What do you call me?"

Hajime was too preoccupied talking to his niece to pay proper mind to them, but even he didn't miss that; ears twitching, he snapped at attention. "What are you two talking about?"

"They all call you the-one-who-got-away; or To-chan."

Just as Saitou was ready to intervene, Tokio burst out laughing. "It could be worse, I guess."

"Enough out of the both of you," Saitou put an end to it; jutting out his chin to his niece, the small girl correctly interpreted it to go grab her aunt's hand...but, Sachi didn't take only Chizuru's hand, no. She took Tokio's, too and they started walking with Saitou on the left, then Tokio, then Chizuru with the little girl between them.

"Child whisperer," Chizuru breathed impressed.

Tokio shrugged. "I practiced with my nephew" she stopped speaking loudly and mouthed; "he stays with his mom and he's all the more protective of her—we're working very hard to help him expel his hostility towards his father," in an effort not to have the child hear it. "So," she turned to the little girl now "what kind of presents did aunt get you?"

Her little chest swelled and she bounced on her two little feet. "She bought me a coat! It's very long and it's soft and warm and I really want to wear it! But they said not now, it's for later. So I have to wait until it snows."

She frowned but that disappeared immediately when her aunt urged "why don't you tell her what colour it was?"

"It was red and black and it had very deep pockets! Then Chizuru-nee-san said she should buy me something to match the coat, so she bought me a black dress! It had white stripes on it going like this" she gesticulated wildly "and frill at the bottom, it was very pretty! That, too was for later though."

"Plaid dress with tulle at the bottom," Chizuru explained.

"Aw, that sounds wonderful, Sachi! Did you thank aunt for the gifts?"

"Yes, I did!"

"What a good girl."

All the way to the their destination and even inside the shop, went something like that; Saitou couldn't help the yearning he felt to his very core, watching Tokio make idle small talk with the little girl. He couldn't keep his eyes off of them, too. On one hand, it was all too much; this is what he gave up on. This is what he allowed to slip right through his fingers, six years ago. At the same time, he still blamed her, too, but nearly as much as he did when she left. He learnt his lesson. He needed to own up to his own mistakes. And she never denied her part in it. As time went by, he felt like he was the one who ruined everything, with his stubbornness.

Maybe he felt that, too, but it was far too painful to admit it; now, not so much. Because now she was standing right in front of him.

Chizuru was another issue. She was younger than them, barely 23, and she was seeing everything. Quite sharp that girl. And all she did was smirk, smile, or comment on things; some of those things though, hit a little too close to home. Tokio, as always, laughed along, answered her honestly or gracefully ignored her, but he couldn't; each and every thing put him on high alert and when the time came for him to pay for his purchase, he was almost worried to leave them alone. It was a good think Suzuki himself wasn't there, otherwise, this would have gone far more awkwardly.

Just as Tokio was about to look at wristwatches, little Sachi felt the urgent need to go to the bathroom. "I'll take her; meet you at the left corner when we're all done," Chizuru excused herself and her niece and left the store.

"What are you looking for, miss?" the polite woman at the register inquired.

"I'm looking for something elegant, but too quiet; silver or rose gold. Preferred silver. I don't mind it being big, but I definitely want functions, too, other than a stopwatch. It will be for every-day use, so I want it sensible and sturdy."

"You're looking for something expensive, I'm afraid."

Her smile was knowing. "I've looked at a thousand wristwatches so far, so I know my price-range. It's okay. I didn't come to bargain...too much." The two women smiled at one another. "I am a fan of Citizen; not Seiko. And...oh this is nice. That one, too. You know, that's not too flashy either."

Watching her look at the exhibition pieces, and the woman dutifully plugging them out of the case to put them on her wrist to decided, he remembered the second to last time he visited. He hadn't been in here for five years, after all. Last time he came, it was to return something...the same something he purchased six years ago.

He was with Suzuki himself; he'd made a point to visit when the man said he'd be back from his latest business trip. He had come alone, but he'd need his help—Tokio bought much of her jewelry here and almost always it was him that served her. He certainly knew her taste. Saitou did, too but a little help would not hurt.

He was standing two metres to the left from where Tokio was standing now; Suzuki bent over the counter with him, they were looking at five fifteen-by-ten cushioned cases that hosted rings. Some were grand, some were tempered, but they were all special. They were all so special in fact, it took them more than an hour and a half to decided on the perfect one. It wasn't that they hadn't found their four candidates, it was that they changed their mind about the right one every five minutes. When Suzuki's daughter saw them struggling, she had come over and ruined it all because she picked the one out of the four they thought less of. Because the owner was thorough at his job, but also because Tokio was one of his favourite customers, he didn't rush any bit of it, too so once a choice was made, they had to think of everything twice. And when that choice changed, they would do the same with the new one; and again and again, until they settled on the one Saitou insisted on.

"After all, it's you she's marrying; it should be on your taste she gets thrilled or disappointed," the man had said, finally folding, and getting the ring ready. Secretly, he had told him when he returned it, he was insisting just so Saitou could be more confident in his choice and both of those were perfect, but it was also fun to see him torture himself so much over such small details. It meant he truly cared.

The fact he had to return it, Suzuki had said, was very unfortunate. But Saitou hadn't had the heart to admit he never went through with it. He had chickened out and never asked. On the day he was supposed to do it, she announced this job of hers and how she wanted to take it and go to freaking France, that he froze. It never left his lips—or the ring his pocket. Would she have stayed, if he had? He didn't know; and that was what angered him the most. He'd been a coward that one moment he should have been brave and now he'll never know. Maybe that was why he rushed into things with Yaso—he held himself back once, he shouldn't twice. But he'd been with Tokio for four years prior to him popping the question; Yaso he knew for a year and a half, and he only thought of her as a woman for less than a year.

He didn't know what to do, so he proposed. Action is better than inaction; and he shouldn't have to regret a second missed chance, or so he'd told himself but it wasn't the same. That much he knew from the very first moment.

Honestly, he would go into criminals' dens on the regular back then—why couldn't he make a simple question when it actually mattered? He knew why, actually; because arresting criminals and getting shot at wasn't as much of an emotional stake as betting your happiness for the rest of your life on a person; a person who seemed a little too willing to walk away from him.

He sighed. What was the point now? He'd lost his chance then, it wasn't coming back. But she did. So he should focus on what he could gain from now on, instead.

"What do you think Hajime? Left or right?"

They had come down to two: a smaller, but silver wristwatch with a perfect blue for the dial and a rose gold one, bigger, with a black dial. Both were quite impressive, actually, he liked them. He considered. "Which one matches most of your clothes?"

"Both can be worn with virtually everything," the assistant told him.

"What colour is the one you have left?"

"Silver."

"Then take the right; variety is good."

"Huh. That's...actually good advice." Her smile was teasing. "How in character." He shook his head and she graced him with one of her warmer smiles; those he used to go through hours and hours of paperwork, training, missions for. "It's decided; I'll take the right one. Please ring me up!"

They left the store a minute later, with her wearing the watch proudly on her right arm. They went to the meeting point, but the other two weren't there yet. "Say, don't you have to be to work today?" she only realised it was around two o'clock.

"I'm graveyard shift the entire month," her oooof, was immediate; he waved her away. "No, I asked for it; need the mornings of this and next week free: gifts to buy, arrangements to make, suits to look at...and then I asked for three consecutive days off to top it all off and they said, fine, but you're taking the entire month, not just these two weeks. Small price to pay."

Her amused suspicion was clear in the way her eyebrows wiggled. "What's gonna happen in two weeks that you need three days off?"

He actually smiled at her then; if he was any more expressive with his feelings he would have rubbed his hands together. "Okita is getting married." Her mouth hang. "And, naturally, I'm the best man."

"Oh my god...are you serious?"

The fact she became misty eyed so fast, warmed his heart. She still cared. She really wasn't all that different, like he feared she'd be after such a long time.

"I'm so happy for him." Her hand had settled on her chest, taking deep breaths. "Does she deserve him? Does he deserve her?" He nodded instantly, with fervor. Her smile could not be contained as well as some stray tears and her hands came around him once more, feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so happy for him. He deserves the best; it's so good to know he finally found what he was looking for. I always worried about him, you know." She let go. "He was always too giving and his relationships so fleeting, but—...I'm at ease. Congratulations to him. Congratulations to you, too—I can't imagine anyone else as his best man to be honest." Her watery laugh was very muted, looking away. "Ah, Souji is finally settling down, amazing. God, I want to see him again, congratulate him in person. I kind of want to meet his fiance, too."

He shrugged. "So do it; call him." Her smile became modest, moisture vanishing, but hesitant. "You said you're back for good, right? Well, he definitely won't be going anywhere." Some hope returned to that. "Do you want me to call him right now? We can arrange it, make sure Elena is there, too."

"Oh, she's a foreigner?"

"Yes...and no. She's from the states but she's been here since she's five."

"I get it; yeah, please! Call him! But not now; wait until I'm gone. I'm too nervous. Just call me later to tell me what he said."

Yes; a chance. A smirk formed and he leaned towards her. "I'd be more than happy to, but I don't have any contact information of yours." She turned red. "Unless you can read smoke signals."

He earned a good slap on the shoulder for that, but it was worth it, because now she was already looking through her purse for her cell phone. "Give me your number, smartass." He spoke the digits and she called; when it rang, she gave him a dangerous look. "Give me your email, too, I'll text you."

"It's the same."

"Ah, perfect."

He smirked; she didn't ask for it, she still had it. She changed her device, but transferred his email to the new one. Six years and she still had it. How could he not smile at that.

"Anyway, if he says yes, I can meet whenever, so you guys speak with Elena and figure out a good time, alright? Now, I'll wait for your niece to come back again and I'm leaving. Mom'll throw a fit if I don't call her soon enough."

"Why?"

"...she grew a little attached, ever since I left."

He snorted. "I don't blame her."

"You wouldn't," she snapped back, rolling her eyes, but he seemed to take that as a compliment. He and her mother always saw eye to eye to these things, no coincidence she was his biggest ally throughout his entire relationship with her daughter.

After that, conversation dwindled; wasn't too long that Sachi came running towards them, letting go of her aunt's hand, to grab her uncle's leg. It was too adorable for Tokio to handle, who simply walked to her, kissed her little cheek goodbye and told them she was leaving. The little girl thought it was safe for her to do the same, and pecked Tokio's cheek. She earned herself a rub of her head for it and then, Tokio was walking away. The way she kept looking back, until she took a turn, put a smile on his face. She was back. He was...excited.

Taking his niece's hand, he couldn't help the rush of adrenaline at the thought of relaying all of these to Okita, when they'd meet for their shift. He was going to flip.

"Is this really Takagi Tokio I'm seeing right in front of my very eyes? The same Takagi Tokio who left six years ago?"

"Souji!"

He opened his arms wide, a thrilled expression on his face, as Tokio actually ran the remaining two metres and crushed into him. He trapped her in a tight embrace and squeezed, almost lifting her off the ground. Hajime, standing somewhere next to his friend, shook his head, but secretly enjoyed it. Seeing Okita being so open with her, despite the misgivings he confided in him when he told him, was very important.

"It's been so long, welcome back," he started, slowly letting go of her "how have you been? You look great! The big unknown outside did you a lot of good."

She laughed. "So-so, I'd say; it's been too long. So long, you're getting married!" She hit his arm with the back of her palm. "You dog; and here I thought I'd have to make space for you up on my shelf."

"Hey!"

"You know I'm joking, I'm joking," she raised her arms defensively "let's go sit somewhere, tell me all about it. About her, too—where is she?"

Tokio looked around the not-so-busy street but saw no one that would indicate any other than Japanese heritage or descent. And Hajime had said she was from the states, she only grew up here.

"She'll be coming shortly; told me to text her when we sit—she ran a little late with her doctor."

Her chest swelled. "Are you guys pregnant?"

"No, no," he calmed her down "it's just a regular check up."

"Let's just go find a place..." Saitou complained, but both glared.

"You brought us here, didn't you?" Tokio commented, clicking her tongue. "There's no way you weren't thinking of Dionysus for lunch, so let's just go there."

"You are so boring, Saitou," Okita teased "six years she's been away and she still knows exactly what you're thinking. You didn't grow one bit..."

But that tease meant much more than it let on; the way Saitou bit his tongue and looked away, or Tokio changed ten colours, he knew they realised what he was getting at. Okita shook his head. How ridiculous; when they first met, it was him that urged them to ask each other out. And now, eleven years later, it looks like he's gonna have to do it again. Although, now, the conditions were a little more favorable: after everything that happened, he bet Saitou would beg for another chance at it with her. It only remained to be seen what she'd decide.

As they walked to Dionysus, Okita and Tokio with arms linked, they engaged in small talk; it was all the everyday stuff she hadn't heard for so long and she lent a very careful ear. Okita was, per usual, a very good friend. He was being extra descriptive, sharing stories that included Saitou, too—each and every one. What they did, what they ate, what had happened with this prisoner, that case...even after they sat, he didn't stop; she couldn't help but steal glances at Saitou, who couldn't look more annoyed yet satisfied.

Tokio shook her head; neither had changed one bit. How amusing.

"Ah, Elena just texted me she's here; I'll go bring her in."

"Mighty attached he is," she commented with a sly grin on her face the moment he was running to the door "to go bring her in...but that may be a good sign."

When the door opened, a second later though, Tokio felt like a complete idiot; she watched as Okita opened the door, came inside and held it next to him as a woman in a wheelchair rolled in. Her smirk fell and she tried very hard not to seem too guilty as she slid her eyes to Saitou, smile turning polite.

"Why didn't you tell me about this? I will end you," she whispered, moving her lips as less as possible "what if I had said that in front of him?"

"Oh please," he waved her away and she noticed he didn't stand, as he usually did when someone new came to the table, simply sat straighter in his chair and turned towards the newcomer. "Elena, nice to see you again," he gave a small nod and the woman beamed.

She was a beautiful, buxom woman of Hispanic descend; she had expressive brown eyes, piercing Tokio, trying to judge her reaction. Her smile was wide and equally polite as hers. It looked like she was an open person, much like Okita, who wore her sentiments on her sleeve: Tokio could feel the defensiveness as well as the willingness to make a new friend. Although, she really had no idea how to behave; should she stand? Should she remain seated like Hajime? But he had met her before, Tokio hadn't. Almost buzzing, she decided to stand and offer her hand to the woman.

"Hello, my name is Takagi Tokio; I am very happy to meet you."

When she shook it with as much enthusiasm as Tokio spoke to her, the tension lifted significantly. "Hello Tokio, I'm Withers Elena. I'm excited to be able to finally meet you, too."

"Oh no," Tokio lamented, glaring at Okita as she sat back down again when he pulled a chair aside and pushed Elena into place "you've heard about me. I fear to ask what that may be."

Her laugh was immediate and very graceful; Tokio always felt jealous of women who managed to sound cute when laughing—she sounded like a damn troll. "No, no, don't be; I promise you it was nothing terrible." When her eyes slid to Elena's future husband in doubt, she laughed some more. "My dear is very fair," she gloated and took his hand in hers "nothing I ever heard was bad; just honest."

"Shit."

Some laughing continued, some didn't; after a while, once Tokio got over her anxiety on not knowing how to treat a person who was confined to a wheelchair – the answer was "the same, you idiot" with the exception of being aware she would need some special treatment for practical purposes –, everything went smoothly. In fact, Elena took a liking to her and even invited her to the wedding before Okita did – Tokio considered that a personal win and wouldn't stop bragging about it later, to anyone who asked – although, he had another type of suggestion to make.

"Tokio-chan, do you have a date for the wedding?"

"No," the "duh" was implied.

"Okay, real talk, Hajime is the best man and he doesn't have one either; why don't you come together and spare him the shame of coming alone?"

Elena's eyebrows shot very high in her fringe at her soon-to-be husband's spiel; if looks could kill, Saitou would have murdered him about five times, too but Tokio was the one surprised the most by his shamelessness.

"Sweetie," her tone dripped poison "that is not something you get to say."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with anyone going to any event alone," Tokio stated then, a little defensively.

"Besides, if I wanted to ask her to come with me, maybe I would; on my own."

"Damn, okay, sorry, I get it; I said something stupid."

"Very," they all chorused and Okita gave up, throwing his hands in the air.

"Well whatever; I was only trying to—"

"—be impertinent," his wife-to-be finished for him, making it crystal clear there isn't any more conversation to be had about this topic. Pouting, he accepted his fate when everyone else's challenging glare was directed at him.

But Okita was smart; the seed was planted. Once Elena and Okita waved goodbye and left the two of them alone, and although they stayed for a while after that and the subject had changed a thousand times, how curious, Hajime went right back to it.

"I'm sorry about him, he hasn't grown at all," he opted to start with a blanket statement, to seem less eager. When she smiled and shrugged, he took a bracing breath. "But he wasn't that far off; I wouldn't mind going alone, but I'd rather go with you."

Her eyes darted to him; she never turned her head, but her eyes were there. "And you were panning on asking me anyway but he beat you to it?"

He clicked his tongue. "I don't like a crowd."

"That I do know," she conceded and finally chuckled. "I'd love to go with you," she gave him her answer. "But I have one request: I'll come with you to the fittings."

"What fittings?"

She blinked. "For the suit you'll be wearing; you're the best man, right? Aren't you getting a new suit for the wedding?"

"Ah, those fittings," he decided to stop teasing because the alarm in her voice only grew by the word "yes, why not?"

"Have you already picked a suit?"

"No."

"Perfect; we'll pick one together." When he tried to look offended at the notion he needed help for something so basic, she put her palm up, flat. "You were never, ever any good at picking out formal clothes. Ever," she emphasized for maximum impact and he kept his mouth closed. "Just make sure that happens soon though, because I have to choose a dress, too."

"Oh?"

"I can't just pick one from mine; it has to be the perfect match, otherwise what's the point? It's Souji's wedding; we go all out." He nodded, agreeing. Those were his sentiments exactly. "Besides, you'll be the best man;" she nudged him with her elbow "everyone will be looking at your date."

"Who, apparently, wants to impress."

"Can't have people saying I fall short, right?"

"You mean shorter? I mean, even Okita is taller than you."

"Oh hush."

For the very first time in her life, Tokio was part of a wedding from the groom's side. When her brother had gotten married she was still in University, so no one asked her to do anything so she was nearly as immersed as in this one; go to fittings, order drinks, help make some arrangements for the venue, sort out wrinkles in their coworkers' schedules, she helped with everything. Some things only she could arrange, seeing both of them went to work during the nights.

No matter, time flew by in a blink and before she knew it, it was Okita's big day. She barely had time to pick out her dress and accessories, if she was being honest—she almost rushed it. But she did feel like she had a duty towards them both, to look her absolute best. And that day, despite the wedding taking place at twelve, they were all up and about at around six, or at least that's when Saitou texted her.

She could only imagine the mess at the couple's house and the in-laws milling about, but she could very clearly see the disorganisation at the church they had picked – that she'd arrived at three hours earlier, per Saitou's request –: the two future mother in laws were all demands and orders that contradicted one another; Elena's father was almost hysterical, while Okita's just sat at a corner, trying to get through the day without crying every five minutes for his son's happiness. She was making an effort, a real effort, to calm the men down and keep the two women in check. Tokio handed each one of them a list with tasks that she felt would suit most each woman's character and split them up and directed them two different ways. Hopefully, that would stop them from giving conflicting directions to the staff.

Of course, seeing this would be a catholic wedding, as Elena was deeply spiritual while Okita didn't really care and just went along with it, all the guests who didn't know of the customs, were given a crush-course by Henrietta, Elena's mother. Then, the minister arrived. Somewhere then, and once everything was under control, she texted Saitou to bring Okita there.

It was a tradition the groom went a little early and the bride a little late, one that Henrietta impressed upon her must be kept, so she did her best not to disappoint anyone. Given Okita's mom was of the opinion he should suffer for not putting his foot down and having a traditional Japanese wedding – as she wanted – then he should wait three hours for all she cared. Tokio, shrugging, merely did as she thought best for all.

Around eleven thirty, she saw Saitou's car pull up outside; there the groom was, in the company of his best man, who was driving, and his friends and colleagues, Nagakura, Harada and Toudou. If she wasn't seeing things, she must have spotted their superiors in the guests, too, Hijikata and Kondou with their dates. She knew them, but didn't have the heart to say anything, not without Hajime there. But once they showed up, he saw them stand out from the crowd and head to the groom, who was literally, positively, beaming.

Heh; to see the day Okita would be so much in love, she was so happy for him.

Naturally, this was more of a men's kind of thing, so, despite Saitou coming to her for maybe a minute to thank and talk to her for everything, she was again left alone with the couple's parents and the rest of the preparations. She started to feel like Okita thrust her into this just so he didn't have to pay for a wedding planner at some point...but watching the anxiety as well as bliss on his face, the moment they heard the horn of the bride's car, was all but worth it.

The bride didn't stop though, no; she circled once, then twice then three times the block; she stopped the fourth time and eventually was led out of the car. That's when her father calmed down completely. Seeing his daughter, in all of her beauty and glory, as she sat there in her wedding dress gave him a breath of fresh air. Tearing up, he stopped whatever he was doing and, after Diego, his son, helped Elena out of the car, he went to her side. He offered her his hand and they went all the way down the isle hand in hand, with Diego pushing the wheelchair.

Once the bride made her entrance, everyone went to their places: Saitou, holding on to the rings, was standing a good metre to the side of the groom; Nagakura, Hijikata and Toudou were sanding next to him. On the bride's side, there was a head bridesmaid standing a good metre to the side from Elena and three more women she had no idea who they were. If not for the fact she had traveled so much she would not have known this was just a catholic wedding and she would have been at a loss. But she did. And when three women came and sat next to her, sly grins on their faces, if she hadn't been informed these were the groomsmen dates, she would have panicked a little because other than Nagakura's wife, whom she'd met as his girlfriend six years ago, she knew none other.

After the vows were exchanged, they had their first kiss as a married couple; just like that, the ceremony was over. Elated, Okita hugged his best man, and then proceeded to jump in his bride's lap! The crowd laughed. Giving her a bigger, but just as fleeting kiss, he gave the command to be escorted out, and Diego, shaking his head with a smile, obliged.

And just like that, they transitioned to the reception.

Ah, the reception; that was an even bigger chaos. People she never met before, for the most part, went here and there exchanging pleasantries, talking, wishing, gossiping; Tokio saw Hajime once at the beginning, when he explained to her she was going to sit with him at the groom's table when the time came, and then once again when he reappeared to whisk her away for photographs. Apparently, there was going to be a whole shoot and the groomsmen and bridesmaids' dates were needed for a small potion of it. Then it was the group photo and then they returned.

After that, he informed her she was going to stand alone for a little while longer before the wedding couple made an entrance and then they could finally sit. Shrugging, she accepted, nursing a drink. That's when Nagakura's wife found her again.

"I really do love your dress," she commented "it suits you so well."

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding," Tokio said in return "but I can tell you're happy together. Still, I'd have loved to see you in that kimono; heard it was a traditional one, right?"

She nodded. "Me, too; your gifts were the best."

They shared a chuckle. "But, you know, I'd have loved to have had you there, too. You helped today, I saw." Tokio nodded, modest. "That must be the best gift of all," she shared and she had to smile at the woman's desperation. Who knew how hectic her own wedding was.

"I can still get you an actual gift though," she mused aloud "I saw an urn, very unique." Sakura's eyes almost sparkled. "I know, you'd have loved it."

"To be honest, I—...oh."

"What is it?"

Sakura's looked down and to the side, she turned her body towards her interlocutor. "Don't stare, but the woman approaching us right now, is Yaso." Tokio's eyebrows shot very high. "She's kind of a colleague but most importantly, sort of the reason Okita and Elena met, so he had to invite her. Said it would definitely be bad luck not to."

Tokio nodded she understood.

"Just act natural;" Sakura shrugged as casually as she could "she'll leave soon and it'll all be over." She seemed thoughtful then. "She already found herself a new fiance, so I feel she won't be too bitter."

Once Yaso was within earshot, Sakura pretended to just spot her; pleasantly surprised, waved with her champagne hand; the newcomer, her own champagne in her hand, put on a huge smile, and came close.

"Hello Yaso, long time no see."

"Hello, Sakura; indeed. And you must be Tokio, yes? I am Yaso, I'm very pleased to finally meet you." without a shred of hesitation, she offered her hand, as if practiced, and Tokio shook it readily. "I was really wondering if I should bow or give you a handshake," she quipped then, all smiles "but I see I made the right choice; being abroad for so long must have changed your habits completely."

Did that sound like...something just now? A quick look at Sakura and the way she tensed, told her all she needed to know. Putting on her best coy smile, she shrugged. "No, not too much; I think it helped that I found most things just like I left them, breeds a sense of familiarity."

"Right..."

Seeing her attempt at making her uncomfortable did not work, Yaso tried to think of something else to say. "You know," she started "I did always wonder what you were or looked like; Hajime never really kept any pictures of you...I thought you'd be taller."

Sakura's eyes widened; she almost chocked on her drink. What kind of thing was that to say—was she serious? And yet, for some unfathomable reason, Tokio kept her cool about it, even had the nerve to chuckle.

"Why would he? Didn't you guys get married?"

"Oh, so he told you we were married."

"You know Hajime, he hates keeping secrets; besides, what's so scandalous about it that he shouldn't?"

But Yaso simply snorted, quite emphatically. "Hajime? He's the best at keeping secrets, what are you talking about?"

Tokio blinked. "Did, did you not hear me? I said he hates keeping secrets; not that he can't. At least," at that she became a little awkward "with all due respect and I mean nothing by it, he always hated keeping secrets when we were together."

"Ah," her eyes turned cold; her tone frigid "I see."

"Besides, why would you want to know what I was like? Why did you care about your husband's ex? That's ridiculous."

"You ask me that?" She seemed a little offended; Tokio became confused. "You have the gall to ask me something like that?"

"Pardon?"

She looked at Sakura in a what-did-I-do-wrong kind of way; Sakura tried not to sigh too much.

"You do realise that, although you were never physically there, for the entirety of our relationship and then marriage your presence was always looming somewhere there, where I could never reach? For four, long, torturous years of my life, I was constantly compared to and competed with you, even in your absence. I resented you and didn't even know what you looked like."

Something snapped; Tokio heard that little sound in her head that signified she would tolerate no more bullshit today. Even if Yaso was taller, the way she took her breath and concentrated all of her thoughts made both women lean slightly back.

"And that's my fault how exactly? You yourself said it: I wasn't even around, I was in Europe; last time I even attempted to contact Hajime was before he ever met you and he never answered his phone anyway. How is this my fault, too? What else are people going to blame me for?"

She exhaled, upset, shaking her head not having the patience to deal with this. "Besides, if you felt constantly compared to me before you married him, why did you go through with it on the first place?" she actually raised her hands, palms flat against the sky, instead of grabbing Yaso and just shaking her as she would have wanted. "You know what, that's none of my business; it really isn't. Neither is it my problem, though. If you feel like blaming someone, blame Hajime; and yourself. But leave me out of it—I have absolutely nothing to do with it."

Yaso cackled maliciously "You have everything to do with it; if it weren't for you—"

"What? You'd have never divorced, is that what you are going to accuse me of?" Tokio's eyes became dangerous. "Fist of all, to think so little of yourself and Hajime's feelings, is stupid; secondly, to think if I hadn't left him like that he would have been able to get over me, is even more moronic, because guess what, sweetie: if I hadn't left for Europe, we wouldn't have broken up. You'd have never even dated, not married him. Besides, you're the one who had the ring on her finger, why are you being like this to me? He knew you for half a year and proposed; we were together for four years and he never even mentioned it; if anything, I should be feeling a little slighted, not you. But I don't, because I understand how different people elicit different reactions or sentiments. Why don't you?"

Yaso seemed taken aback at her willingness to fight; she was under the impression Tokio would easily fold, try to appease her, or at least try not to make a scene. Nothing of those things happened. The hell was Saitou going on and on about then? It made Yaso think Tokio was this submissive creature who put up with him at all times and Hajime's problem with her was that she was feisty and unbending. But Tokio didn't seem the type, definitely. And everyone did say how Tokio hadn't changed one bit...

...who, seeing she wasn't getting through the way she wanted, simply shook her head. "I don't know what people told you or what you were able to piece together from things you've heard, but I don't quite care, too. So, if all you came here to say is...this, then consider you got it off your chest and leave. I'm here to be happy for my friend, with my friend and I care none for the accusations you're making."

"...you don't mince your words, Tokio-san," Yaso observed, conflicted. When she simply shrugged in response, all three women looked at one another. "If I may ask, why did you leave Japan for?"

"I'd been looking for a certain position for a long time; when I finally found it, it just so happened to be in UK."

"So you left him."

"Not that I have to justify myself to anyone, but I didn't just leave; I asked him to come with me. He refused. Well, I knew he was going to, which is why I told him we could always try a long distance relationship, but he simply scoffed at me. Said I was either staying or leaving, no in-between. But I...don't like ultimatums. So, I left. I pursued my career. I came back. End of story."

"Are you serious?" Yaso seemed scandalised, Sakura just as shocked. "You told him to keep in touch and he said no?" Tokio nodded. "WHY?"

"Because I had this ridiculous idea stuck in my head that she was only doing it for attention; it would blow over. She wouldn't really go..." All three women turned to the side of the dance floor in alarm; he smirked at their reactions. "But guess what." The way they looked at him, made him smile. "I think the exact moment I realised you weren't joking was after seeing you board the plane and only once it took off. I thought to myself, shit. She did go; now what?"

Shaking her head, Tokio looked to the heavens for any sort of help, but none came; Sakura gave a nervous chuckle, but Yaso could have killed him. "But she said she called you and you never answered," she snubbed "why didn't you pick up?"

"And tell her what? I'm sorry I didn't realise when you said you were leaving you were going to leave? She'd sooner come back for a couple of days just to kick my ass than accept my apologies."

"To be fair, I'd probably do both but if you'd dared tell me you didn't take me seriously back then, I'd have easily broken each and every plate in the house on your goddamn, hard head."

"I rest my case."

"What an idiot!"

"An idiot you were actually married to," Hajime reminded her, "so don't act too high and mighty."

"So what did you do, Tokio-san?" Sakura asked eager. "We know about him—he stupidly rushed into a wedding."

"I'm still standing right here," Yaso reminded, but Sakura waved her away.

"What do you mean?"

"Any drama on your side of the world?"

She laughed. "I don't like drama; I settled quietly at my new place of business and worked myself to the bone; I was one of the best in my field by the time I turned twenty four; a year later, I was the highest paid Asian. I never intended to stay there for a long time anyway, so I never concerned myself with men and relationships. Besides, I kept traveling, moving here and there—first it was UK, then it was Ireland, then France, then US, then back to Europe in Spain and finally Ireland, where I stayed until a month ago. Now, I'm back home." She smiled, nostalgic, looking to the west. "I missed my family; my friends; even you, asshole."

He had no idea why that gave him so much satisfaction, but there it was. She almost hit him, seeing the expression on his face, but Yaso had the final word when she actually threw him her purse, right in the face.

"Hey."

"What an actual ass," she complained, snatching the thing back immediately "to think he so selfishly rejected a woman who loved him...and for her to come back and still feel the same way about him, how convenient. I'd have thrown him under a bus."

Speaking her last, she turned about and left; Sakura exhaled, looking to the side. "What an encounter."

"Lucky me," Tokio grumbled and glared at Hajime; he tried a peace offering, giving her his drink, and she greedily accepted it. "Asshole."

"You two must have a lot of catching up to do," Sakura only just realised, trying to find a way to get the hell out of there before she was caught in the crossfire—Tokio was literally buzzing. "I'm going to go now. Bye you two; see you later."

Once she was gone, too, no doubt headed to the groomsmen and their dates to share the scoop, they stood there in silence for some time. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was electric. Things left unsaid begged to be spoken; situations needed explaining. Saitou heard noise in his ears that had nothing to do with the people all around him, or the music on the speakers. Still, he could not help the smirk now stuck on his face from all the things he heard tonight. Taking a risk, he went closer; it was only a step, but his steps were significant. She noticed. She didn't hit him though, or turned away, which was a good thing.

"So," he begun after some deliberation "I am an idiot." Her glare was deadly, but approving so far. "What do we do about it?"

"What baffles me," she said instead, leaving his question unanswered "is that you refused, absolutely refused to so much entertain the thought of a long-distance relationship and yet, I am gone for six years, and here you are, divorced because your wife felt I overshadowed her. If you were going to mope around for as long as I was going to be away, what was the point even? What's wrong with you?"

"That's a long list," he quipped and she actually smiled "and we don't have enough time. But if you're asking why I was so stubborn back then," he shrugged "I was too young; and too proud. And I felt betrayed, maybe, that you'd so easily change continents, with no regard to me."

She shook her head; he shrugged again. "And we already established I was an idiot and didn't really comprehend you were leaving until you left."

She sighed; his eyes on her became soft. "But that's all said and done; we can't change the past. We can only shape the future."

She said nothing, but a small smile did breakthrough; he was a little relieved at that. "Now let's go to our table; Okita texted me they're coming."

"Count your blessings," she teased, but not all that much and allowed him to guide her there.

Ten minutes later, the soft music playing, changed. A bombastic song, one she did not know, started blaring, and before long, the wedding couple came rolling down the carpeted way that lead from the entrance to the dance-floor. Instead of opting for the usual slow dance, though, the couple kept the song going, maybe had them play it on a loop, as Okita started twirling and dancing around Elena in her decorated wheelchair, spinning her around on an occasion or two and generally getting as wild as the instance would permit him.

When they had their fill, finally the ballads started playing; the couple toasted with everyone, shared one slow dance, with Okita actually picking Elena up from her chair for the duration of the song and keeping her in his arms – how he managed that, for such a long time, she did not know; Hajime, who was taller than everyone he or she knew he the strongest in the unit could maybe do that for as long – and then, they sat at their table.

Food was served immediately and people started gobbling it down. Before the dessert was served, Okita informed his friend he had to stand up and make the little speech they had told him about – "you better have prepared something," Toudou mouthed a little threateningly – and he dutifully did.

"Welcome everyone, to the celebration of this joyous occasion; I know maybe about one third of you, but welcome." Some laughs were heard. "But that makes perfect sense; I've known Souji over a decade and he makes friends with people very easily. I mean, just think it's me who's making the speech." That elicited some very honest laughs from all around them. "I'm very difficult; and selfish; and I take up a lot of space at work, I've almost migrated to his desk. And yet, he never complains. He only makes one stupid joke after another, never judging...always supporting me. Whatever I need, he's ready to help."

He exhaled. "He's a great colleague and an even better friend; and I am certain, he's going to be even greater as a husband." The two men looked at one another; Okita was smiling like an idiot, eyes watery. "Elena," he turned to her "I think you are lucky to have him; but nearly as lucky as he is." She did tear up. "You've done nothing but urge him to be the best version of himself, ever since he met you, and I can tell, because I've known him forever. You maybe can't tell the difference because, when you first met, he definitely tried to impress you and all that," the way the bride and their friends laughed and Okita turned red made him smile "but I can; and I know he's been the happiest he's ever been these past three years. So," he raised his glass "my idiot partner who I hope he always stays his idiot self, I wish for him to cherish this moment; and cherish you forever." Elena, trying her hardest to not outright cry, nodded wildly, raising her glass. "For you, I wish you keep making him happy, even on those hard, unforgiving days when loving anyone seems impossible."

That seemed to resonate deep with the bride and Hijikata – of all people – who nodded in a very knowing way. "And to all the single people attending today, may you all find someone like either one of them: a person who at the end of the day, makes it all worth it."

All the shit they went through at work with their cases; all the looks and the whispers that he'd heard when these two had first started dating, either because of her wheelchair or her nationality; all the discontent from the parents who did not agree on religious grounds; all the everyday shit that they were already getting through together, since they'd been living together for half a year already. They could do it; Okita would succeed where he'd failed, he was certain.

"Salut!"

"Salut," everyone chorused back and for a long moment there was only drinking.

Then he proceeded to sit down; only then did he dare look at Tokio. She was...proud. Squeezing his knee once as she used to whenever she felt he needed encouragement but knew he wouldn't like any grand or small displays, she nodded once. Muscle memory worked and the tension washed off of him in waves.

"Look at that, you didn't botch it," Toudou immediately goaded him.

"I never said I was a bad public speaker; I just hate it."

"Besides, he wouldn't ruin this for Okita," Nagakura defended him, Sakura chuckling "he would have murdered him, right?"

"Elena would have first," Hijikata baited and the bride waved him away, still wiping away tears.

"Don't listen to them, Hajime-san, they are just jealous." A sniffle. "That was a great speech."

"Too good—did Tokio write it for you?"

She laughed. "Never would I ever welcome guests as "everyone" in any speech, so it's safe to say it was all him," she assured, taking a sip from her new champagne glass "and he did great."

"He did," Harada agreed "let's give him a break."

After a while, after the bride's emotions settled, they informed the wedding couple of the entire Yaso debacle. Although Sakura was very discreet about it, everyone else wasn't, using this as fodder to tease him relentlessly. Even if they all knew his ex-wife had come to the wedding with her current boyfriend, they still made a big deal out of it. Tokio had remained stone-faced and supposedly uncaring through it all, but she couldn't help but overhear everything, closely.

"Care for a dance?"

"...fine," she conceded once she left him hanging for a satisfactory amount of time, holding his gaze all the while; her ears prickled delightfully at the sound all around her after all and she was already in the mood to just stand from the table for whatever reason.

Once they were up there with the rest, they started swaying lightly to the slow but strong beat.

"I really do love this song," she mused "I don't think I've ever said no to anything while it's playing."

"I don't leave things to chance, Takagi," he teased "but I do take chances." He was standing a little too close for just a dance partner from the very beginning, and she had let him, but now he brought her closer, hands going from her sides to her middle. They rested on the small of her back. Again, she allowed it.

"I'm sorry for never checking in;" he said out of the blue; she looked up at him "I'm sorry I acted like you never existed, once you left. But that was only because you meant so much to me."

"Nice way of showing it..."

He sighed. "What else do you want me to say?"

She held his gaze; he did not shy away. "That you're sorry for all you put me through."

"I am."

"And that you were wrong."

"I was."

Finally, she relaxed; she put her head on his chest. "...then that's enough."

"Only if you say that you forgive me."

"Don't be too greedy," she mumbled.

"Say you forgive me."

"Even if I say it or even if I don't, what's the point? I already have..."

"So say it."

"Fine," she kept mumbling "I forgive you for being a monumental ass and hurting my feelings."

"Perfect." He kissed the top of her head—or at least whatever wasn't occupied by her hairdo.

"And I'm sorry I made you feel like I was abandoning you...I could never really think of myself without you next to me, so I don't know how I gave that impression. But I'm sorry."

"I forgive you."

He wished they've had this conversation earlier, but then again, maybe they get to have it on the first place because of the distance; the negative aspects of their relationship, which weren't many, but did exist, felt non-existent. The good ones were magnified. And all ego had disappeared from both parties. They just kept idly dancing, her head on his chest and his hands around her waist. They were like that for some time, until a certain song started playing.

"Don't tell me this was your idea, too." She looked up at him a little, to watch his expression, but when he was just as surprised, she seemed amused. "I guess not." She settled back – never noticing how Saitou's eyes went to the groom who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up – and started humming along with the song; soon enough, he did, too.

"It's a heartache," she sang along with the chorus, still glued to his chest "nothing but a heartache; hits when you're too late; hits you when you're down..."

"I don't understand how we went from making fun of this song to liking it so much," he admitted; she chuckled.

"I know right; we picked too much on Bonnie Tyler that we felt bad about it I guess, and started enjoying it." She laughed. "But we did enjoy it."

"Yeah," he nodded "and Total eclipse of the heart, too."

She snorted. "Tell me about it. I wouldn't stop tearing up every time I heard it; it reminded me too much of y-..."

Only after she spoke them did she realise what words left her mouth and she actually froze mid-sway. She could feel the heat on her cheeks become insufferable, but at the same time, she really didn't want to tear herself away from his shirt because then he'd have to look at him and his smug face wasn't something she was prepared for.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Stop."

"Did I make you cry?"

"Shut up; you heard nothing."

"But I did."

"You didn't."

"It's just, you've been so calm about this whole affair these past two weeks now, it sounds shocking."

She did look up at him then, a little annoyed. "Oh really?" When his face was that shit-eating grin she feared, she had to try her hardest not to look away. "Then maybe that's payback for these six years you kept complete radio silence; if it weren't for Okita I wouldn't even know—..." she sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it hurt; of course. I didn't leave because we broke up. We broke up because I had to go. There was no grand goodbye, no fight to end all fights; you just stopped accepting my calls and my feelings. I still loved you. What do you expect me to do—be happy about it? And once I came to terms with the fact it was over, what did you expect me to do then? Announce to everyone how happily heartbroken I was? I tried getting over it, minimize the pain, and not thinking about it, helped." She shrugged. "I won't apologise for my deference mechanisms being effective."

"So what do we do now?"

This was the second time he had asked this; he had even let her talk her fill, obvious he didn't mind hearing it—quite the contrary. If she was still this touchy about this, despite appearances, it meant she still felt something; there was still hope. And it was no coincidence he spoke of the future before. But this was the second time she didn't answer; she simply shrugged, and looked away. "Let's go sit back down. Hopefully the baiting will have died down..." referring to his friends and colleagues who did their best to humble him in front of her, thinking it funny.

Only it hadn't. In fact, nothing died down; and seeing she was the best man's date, she couldn't leave before him and there was no way Saitou would allow her to go alone, so she was "doomed" to stay, basically, to the end of the celebration, even if she did feel her heels crushing her toes, or the dress digging into her skin uncomfortably. She still smiled and talked and joked with them all, even danced some more, with the groom, too who eagerly took her hand to twirl her around.

When last call was made, it was already half past three. Once the best man made all of the bridesmaids were safely with a friend or relative and the close friends in their cars, he put Okita in Elena's lap and helped her father put them both in his car.

"You'll take me to the train station, right?"

"Just get in the car, Takagi."

Thirty minutes and change later, his car pulled up in front of a very familiar destination. She pursed her lips, giving him a look. "I am very certain that's not the train station."

"Move, will you? It's too late."

He pulled on the break, first gear in and took the key out of the ignition; seeing he wasn't going to give her a straight answer for now, she simply followed him out, as he swung his door open. Looking at the apartment complex, she was almost speechless to how nothing had changed these past six years. Same colours, same problems, same homes having scraped off paint. As if she'd never left japan, Kyoto and her place of residence, she walked across the street and right to the front door; he produced his key and let them both in. Same walk to the elevator, same floor, same walk to the same door.

When she walked through the door, a sense of familiarity washed over her; this was the apartment they shared together, but not quite. The lay-out was the same but the composition a little different; things had moved from one side to the other, some furniture were new. But right in front of her was the living room, kitchen on the left and a small hallway that led to the rest of the rooms on the right. He still didn't close the damn window when he was away so the chill got to her.

She kicked off her shoes, and wandered deeper. She looked around, as discreetly as she could, but she couldn't help herself; the moment she spotted her favourite little coffee table, she had to go there. It was stashed in some corner where it wasn't easily seen when you entered but it was there. She pretended to be resting her feet against it, just so she could feel it—that little dent she'd made on it when one of Hajime's weight fell from her hands and hit the wooden surface. Heh, it was still there.

Once she made sure that was the case, she stretched and stood again. "This place hasn't changed too much."

He nodded. "I know; I have a ten-year lease on it. When I got married, my youngest cousin came over and stayed, he was studying nursing here. When I divorced, I came back; he stayed for maybe another year and once his studies were over, he went back home, to Tokyo."

"I see..."

"So you can still find your way around; go wash your face. I'll leave something for you to wear on the couch."

She nodded and went to the bathroom first; when she came out, he had indeed procured one of his shirts for her to wear and she had to laugh at how he didn't even leave a pair of shorts—it was that long, she didn't need it. By the time he had come out, she was in the bedroom, where she clearly remembered she had stashed all the linens and was happy to find they were still there. She pulled out a plain grey sheet and its matching pillowcase. It was still hot outside, so she didn't need anything other than a blanket and that was easy to find, but it turned out she had to rummage the closet for the spare pillow.

When he too was done with the bathroom, still in his suit, he walked in on her on her tiptoes, struggling to catch the spare pillow. He shook his head amused.

"Need help with that?"

"Yes, please."

He effortlessly took it down; she sighed. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Just to spite your guests for being shorter than you."

"I don't have any guests that dare enter my bedroom, so I'd say no."

Clicking her tongue, but secretly thankful for the verification of his single status, she strutted all the way to the spare bedroom, ready to make the bed. Saitou followed her, quite happy by the fact she so effortlessly waded through his house like she still lived there; standing by the door with one foot over the other, he watched her – and did not help one bit, the bastard – spread the sheet, iron the wrinkles out and then go from one side to the other, to put it under the mattress, to make sure it didn't go anywhere.

"All ready," she spoke more to herself than him, but he still responded.

"Care to make mine, too?" She threw him the pillow she was about to throw on the bed; he caught it with ease. "What? I'm tired; and you're better at it than I am."

"I'm tired, too."

"But look at how nicely you made this one."

"Fine, you slave-driver. Is this why you brought me here? To do chores? Was this your plan all along?"

Prompted by none other than herself, she started making all sorts of wild theories why he decided to bring her back home, one more far fetched than the other; they all made him smile but he still had to deny her claims.

"Why didn't you take me to the station then?" she finally demanded, standing to her full height. She had just applied the finishing touches, the fluffing of the pillows, and had a very superior look about her. He shook his head disapprovingly.

"And have you wait for the first train for two hours all on your own, in the middle of the night? I don't think so; not in that dress" he gave a nod towards the living room where it lay, that was too form-fitting, too sexy, too long yet not long enough; and so very appealing...

"What's wrong with my dress?"

Everything. "Nothing. But it will make men look." He side-glanced her, all meaning, as he undid his tie, vest already open. "I won't have strange men looking at you for two hours straight, in the middle of the night in that dress."

A smirk curled her lips; she loved it when he repeated himself, it meant it really ticked him off. "Thus you brought me here" she took a deliberate step close to him, hands tying in front of her chest "where other men can't look at me," her eyes captured his "or so only you could?"

He mirrored her expression, but not her stance; instead, he got rid of the tie altogether and undid the first couple of buttons that kept his shirt closed; he too went even closer and now she was within reach. "Do I have to choose?"

She nodded, slowly, never looking away; he looked down at her lips. She followed his eyes.

"Why can't it be both?"

His hands snaked around her middle; she put her hands on his chest. "Well, that..." she was now looking at his lips, too, couldn't concentrate on anything else; that and the pleasant sensation that ran down her spine as he embraced her. "That's greedy."

"So it is." He planted a fleeting kiss on her neck; she shivered. "So am I." Another followed; that one lingered. So did her shakes. "So what?"

"It's not fair..."

"I'm not fair, either."

He claimed her lips; she melted into the kiss with a sigh. It was so strange, but everything felt familiar but so, so different. She wanted nothing but to lose herself in his embrace just as she once did, when he followed the familiar paths of her body; at the same time, it felt like this was their first time all over again, with new excitement, and the feeling of not knowing what to do. And yet they both did. And after her hands slithered around his neck and then her foot tangled itself with his, he was all but gone. And that was it.

One kiss turned into a moment; a moment turned into momentum and before he could figure out why he was panting, she had pushed him back far enough for his feet to knock the bed. He shamelessly pivoted her and just as she wrapped her legs around him, he was throwing her on the bed. After that, he had not cared to keep track of what he did or she did or what was happening; all he cared was that it was bliss. This was what he missed; her touch, her attention. The feel of her hands on his back, a supportive squeeze, her voice; her. He missed her so much, it drove him insane. And he had been proud enough not to tell a soul; to allow her to slip through his fingers once.

But he wouldn't be making that same mistake twice.

So he held on to her tight, just as tight as she had held on to him, and loved her as much as he could. For all the time she would call and he wouldn't dare answer; he would look away, or decline her call; for all the months he was dying to know how she was doing but was too proud to ask and Okita had to swallow his pride and call her instead; for all the years he made her feel unwanted when all he wanted was her.

That night he slept better than any other. She was back; he was at ease.

Next morning when he woke up, an odd, familiar sensation ran down his spine, one he feared he'd never get to experience again: the joy of waking up next to someone you loved. She had curled up in a ball about half an arm away, always out of reach; she didn't like being touched when she slept, not unless she was cold. But he could hear her breathing there next to him, saw her soundly asleep. He took a tuft of hair between his fingers and rubbed it, as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When she actually stirred, he became certain.

"Mmm," she stretched, eyes still closed "g'morning..."

"Good morning," he gave the proper greeting "did you sleep well?" She nodded, to the best of her ability. "I can tell." She attempted to hit him, but sleepy as she was, her hand fell useless on the mattress next to him. "How did you manage to survive on your own when you can barely get out of bed if I don't make you something to drink is beyond me..."

"Shut up, I'm," a yawn "perfectly capable of getting up on my own." She blinked, finally opening her eyes. "Are you allergic to sleep? Why are the blinds never drawn? The sun is getting in my eyes."

"It's supposed to, so you don't oversleep."

She gave him a look. "You have the graveyard shift, right? Why d'you care?"

"Only for this month; then it's back to regular." She managed to roll her eyes, as hard as it was. "Tokio," he demanded her attention then "where do we go from here?"

"Ah," she lay her head back down, closing her eyes again "and here I was starting to worry; it only took you half a minute to reach this part." She couldn't see the glare, but that didn't mean she didn't know it was there; she chuckled anyway. "I think it's obvious we both have feelings for one another still, despite all, and—"

"Let's get married."

She burst out laughing. "Now why did I know that you were going to say something like that?"

"I'm serious."

He didn't sound upset, but he didn't seem playful either; she shook her head. "Let's not get married; Hajime, no matter what, we've been apart for a very long time. We have six years worth of catching up to do. What if you decide I'm not what you expected in the end? What if I do? Let's just take it slow..."

"Meaning?"

"I'm currently looking for a house, but I don't want to rush it; it's going to be a life-time investment. But, instead of renting an apartment of my own, I'm staying with my mum; maybe I could, I dunno, move back in here with you? Pick up where we left from, kind of."

"That doesn't sound too bad," he decided and put his arms around her; he had been very honest in his proposal just now, but he knew she wasn't going to accept. He simply wanted to get it off his chest. "Move in with me, Tokio; today." She chuckled. "No, I mean it; today works best because it's the last of my leave and I can actually help. Besides, I doubt you have any more than suitcases of clothes for the most part; those are easy to move."

"You are not wrong; and all that's already worn I can easily pick up at a later time...yeah, okay, why not? After we have a hearty breakfast – I'm actually starving, it's ridiculous – we get dressed and go to my parents' house. Heh. They'll be happy to see you again; especially mum."

He smiled; Tooka always had a soft spot for him. "Great. I'll get her those macaroons she loves, too."

"Ugh, no, don't; I haven't gotten her any ever since I came back. I'll never hear the end of it."

He shrugged. "Suffer."

"If I suffer, I'll make sure you'll suffer later," she threatened but he wasn't deterred; if anything, he only smirked wider, pecking her lips.

"Please, do; take your time and make me suffer as much as you want." He kissed her again and again until he had his fill; he rose first, as he always did, and headed to the bathroom. But before he did, he stood at the threshold. "Come to think of it, I'm out of milk; and bread; and eggs; and—"

"—we need to go shopping tomorrow and eat out today, I get it; just go already."

She didn't want to fall back into old habits so fast; she wanted to sear him, make him work for it, harder, much harder; she'd wanted to go back there and be strong and unmoving and austere, but the moment his lips touched that tender part of her neck, she was done. And this morning, just before she had drifted off yesterday night, she had promised to be colder than this, make him sweat. And yet, she was already making a mental grocery list. What a farce! It was all her fault; after all this time, and she still loved him like this. How stupid. Had she no ego?

Just then, she heard his voice, cautious, from the living room. "Tokio, was the dress you were wearing expensive?"

"Why?"

"I think I just ruined it."

Her eyes widened; she shot up from the bed in an instant and watched as Saitou held up the poor thing, almost torn in half. She gaped. "What did you do to it?"

"It had fallen on the floor; I picked it up. I hadn't noticed I had stepped on it."

Ouch; that hurt her to the core. That poor, cute dress...

"Sorry; I only realised when I heard it rip."

Rip was right—as in R.I.P. "S, stop; you'll make me cry." Her head in her hand, she shook it gingerly. "I'll go find me something to wear. You can...put this in a bag, I'll throw it away."

"I'm really sor—"

"No you aren't," she barked "but I appreciate the sentiment." It still sounded like she accused him for something, maybe like doing it on purpose, but his stance alone spoke of him having nothing to do with it. "You will be though; you'll buy my a new one."

They way he looked away alarmed told her all she needed to know; a satisfied grin appeared on her face. "Tomorrow."

.

.

Hajime pulled up outside their favourite restaurant; it'd barely been a week since Tokio's birthday and after celebrating privately, they decided to celebrate with their friends, too so they invited Elena and Okita out for dinner. Coupled with the good news they wanted to share, they figured this was the best way to tell them.

Of course, neither one expected Elena to be the first one to notice—and so soon, too. It hadn't been two minutes they had arrived, one minute they were greeting each other, the moment they settled into their seats, she let out a breathy yelp, hand over her chest.

"Tokio, what's that on your finger?"

Okita almost answered "a ring, obviously," all flair and tease, but then he actually looked at Tokio's finger and actually gaped. Tokio smiled at his honest reaction.

"That is a five figure ring," she made the inside joke that did not go wasted, because Okita actually snorted with laughter, even if Elena seemed curious.

"The only ring acceptable to pay more than four figures for, is an engagement ring," her husband explained.

"I knew it!" She almost jumped out of her wheelchair, so excited that she was, and Tokio correctly interpreted it as I want to hug you, so obliged her. Elena's hug was almost excruciating. "He proposed...!"

She nodded. "And I said yes."

Okita was actually tearing up at this point. "You can't imagine what kind of relief it is to see this ring on your finger, Tokio-chan. I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you." Her warmth radiated off of her in waves. "And he actually picked it all by himself, amazing." Saitou gave her a look; she chuckled. "Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know, you've been so supportive since I came back, I haven't even told my mother yet."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh yes! He proposed on my birthday, after the dinner with my parents, so it was easy to keep it quiet." She chuckled. "She'll be a little upset when she finds out, but I don't care. I felt this was the right thing to do."

"You don't understand—" His voice broke. "I am a grown man, I will not succumb to this," he reminded himself and Tokio had to laugh.

"Souji, relax; even I wasn't that emotional about it."

"Are you kidding? You finally said yes! This has been such a long time coming...!"

"Okita."

Saitou's voice demanded attention at the very least; when his friend obliged and looked at him, he was surprised to find him trying to signal something to him. Saitou was using the special code they had developed for when they were working cases and they needed to communicate without speaking. That was curious. Even more curious, he was trying to tell him to stop talking. Suspicious.

"Souji, it's barely been half a year I came back, it's not that long. And," she turned chuckling to Saitou "I can't believe you told him that."

"Tell me what?"

"That he proposed."

"Why wouldn't he? Because you said no?"

"What else could I say? I'd been gone for six years."

"Wait what?"

Okita's eyes went from Tokio to Saitou repeatedly; every single time he made a question, or that she answered, Saitou would try to make him get it into his thick scull to just stop. Talking. He'd explain later. But Okita's nose picked up something bad and he was certain it had everything to do with this. His brain worked faster unconsciously because it was already connecting dots his conscious brain didn't, but it still caused him to expand his chest, as if readying him for something.

"He told you he proposed to me, yes?" Okita nodded affirmatively. "Well, that's when he did it; what's so confusing to you? He proposed for the first time when I came back, and now's the second time; I didn't say yes then because, come on."

"What did you just say?"

He was flabbergasted; leaning forward in his seat, eyes small, he glared at his friend; Tokio and Elena, who only the second had noticed Hajime's efforts to stop him, seemed caught off guard. Saitou on the other hand, was bracing himself.

"Okita, I'll explain la—"

"You'll explain now, you bastard; what does she mean you proposed to her for the first time half a year ago? Half a year ago?"

"Um, Souji, what's going on?"

He ignored Tokio's question. "What is that supposed to mean, you prick?"

"Honey, I think it's obvious that whatever it is, it's best discussed when you'll be a little calmer."

"No it fucking isn't!"

Oh, wow, Souji rarely swore; and he actually banged his fists on the table and Hajime did nothing about it. Tokio blinked disbelieving. What was happening? More accurately, what did Hajime do? This was all directed at him and she could tell he messed up, otherwise he'd have kicked up a storm, too. Instead, he was trying his best to remain silent and uninvolved—too suspicious.

"What does she mean you proposed to her for the first time when she came back from Ireland and not BEFORE SHE EVER LEFT YOU ASSHOLE!?"

"H, honey, calm down, you are causing a scene, be quieter, please."

"Fine!" Then his eyes became small and lethal and when he spoke, he made everyone's skin crawl at the murder in his low voice. "What the ever-loving fuck does Tokio mean, you fucking piece of shit that you fucking proposed when she came back? And not before she left like you led me to believe seven fucking years ago!"

There was only so much Elena could do to help Saitou and hearing that made her lose all mood to do so; besides, what could she do? He dug his own grave...especially if Tokio's unadulterated shock was any indication.

"You told him what?"

And it was her turn now to glare him to death; he put up his palms defensively. "I didn't tell him anything; I snapped a picture of this particular ring and sent it to him." Her chin hang; Okita showed Saitou as if that just proved his entire argument and crossed his arms. "I'd been thinking of proposing for a long time, maybe half a year before you left." She couldn't believe her ears. "When I finally made up my mind and went to buy you a ring, I told him. Then I went to Suzuki's and picked this one out; I took the photo and sent it to Okita."

"Captioned with: item secured; tonight's the night."

Elena, who felt like watching a horror movie, gaped along with Tokio at the developments.

"Right; and we went out to dinner that night and you said you had big news, too and I said go first and...you told me about your job. And I panicked;" he turned to Okita for the last part "and I never proposed."

"You fucking asshole! You never said you didn't though; and when I kept saying how could she choose that job to an entire life with you, you kept quiet! You led me to believe you proposed and she turned you down!"

"You asshole!" Tokio accused along with Okita.

"I know, I know; please calm down."

"How can we?" she retorted.

"Do you have any idea how cold I was to her because of that? If I had known you never went through with it, I'd have acted differently! I'd have told her about your intentions! I'd have done something! Something completely different from lying to her about having a girlfriend already and how you are so over her and shit!" he actually grabbed his head with both hands and almost pulled at his hair. "I want to punch you right now so, so bad!"

"Do you realise how much of an idiot you were? Do you?" He nodded. "No, you don't; did you know, if one is married, they can RELOCATE! AFTER SIX MONTHS OF SUCCESSFUL EMPLOYMENT THEY GAVE THE RIGHT TO ANY WEDDED EMPLOYS TO MOVE BACK HOME!"

Elena covered her mouth with her hand, looking away, trying not to laugh out of awkwardness. Tokio had actually grabbed Hajime by the collar of the shirt and shook him back and forth, as if trying to get it into his head how much of an unmitigated prick he'd been.

"You are such an asshole!" Okita exclaimed.

"Such an asshole!" Tokio echoed.

"I...was; I am. But why didn't you tell me abou—?"

Her eyes screamed don't you dare finish that question. "Who the fuck tells their boyfriend if you marry me I can stay in the country!? It sounds like extortion! Or, or some scheme, since we both knew you didn't want me leaving and—ugh, this is stupid; so stupid. So, so stupid! God, I swear, when we get home, I'll give you a real piece of my mind."

"I'm sorry,"

"You should be. Very sorry." Okita stated, eyes nothing short of a threat.

"Can we, um, just, forget this ever happened?" Elena tried to reconcile them. "We are here because you guys are getting married, right? Let's concentrate on that and celebrate your union..."

"We could have been here five years ago if he wasn't such an asshole!"

"I wouldn't," Elena tried to make them laugh and it did work; they nervous-chuckled and tried to let it go.

"You're lucky she's on your side for some reason," Okita kissed his wife as she rubbed his back "so I'm dropping it." A sly smile spread on his face then. "But I'd love to know what she has to say, after you go home."

"Oh, you'll find out tomorrow at work." She gave him an austere look. "I don't think he'll dare not to."

Hajime took a very deep breath; to think he had been such a self-sabotaging prick, he'd have never guessed. At least she didn't throw the ring at his face...she simply shook her head and sank in her seat. Thank god. On the bright side, if she stayed even after that, he was sure they would make it, too. The smile came involuntarily, earned him a couple of smacks, but was worth it. She loved him; he loved her. All was going to be fine...eventually.

---

A/N: Saitou is kind of a dick and I don't think I ever showcased it before accurately, so I hope you enjoyed. Love you cuties; leave a review on your way out. Till next time!

Kisses,
FAI.