A/N:Hello peeps! I'm back at it again! New chapter in this random fic, but surprisingly not last for this particular story; when I realised what I wanted to write, it needed another ten thousand words and well, it was a little bit impossible. But next one is definitely the last one; this one is the third instalment. Hope you enjoy beautiful people. To be honest, I farted this out in a day, it was a very productive day yesterday, so excuse all the grammatical errors or misspellings. I literally had no time to proof read this.

Facts: Ahiru means duck; Hiru, what Tokio calls her cat, is a bastardisation of that word. Yes, she's calling her kitty Duck. She's quirky enough to do that.

Title: My famous(?) new neighbour.
Genre: Humour, Romance, Slice of Life
Alternative Universe: Neighbours, modernday

He wasn't familiar with their elevator. He barely used it; he saved it for the offices he'd visit on the thirteenth floor in his line of duty – mainly when he'd interrogate those who thought were untouchable – or the times he was escorting someone who didn't want to use the stairs. But tonight, as he came home from work much, much later than he was supposed to, after running what felt like three miles in order to apprehend a fleeing suspect, an exhausting interrogation and no results produced, he had no strength left to go up the five flights of stairs to his apartment.

It didn't help any that Tokio returned home the same time as him and spotted the dark circles under his eyes, the slouch in his stance. She always walked up the stairs with him, telling him about her day or asking him about his, those few times he happened to catch her outside. - She did rarely go outside, it was disconcerting. Did she spend most of her time inside? was she a shut-in in the making? Then again, it hasn't been a month she came back from the US… -

No matter, the woman always put in the effort to make small talk and keep him a little company; he decided to do the same. Not that she'd allow him to do otherwise, but this once he folded and went to the elevator door all by himself than her reluctantly trailing up behind him. What really sealed the deal for him though, was one thing: curiosity. She donned a very modern short dress while wearing actual makeup on. It felt so out of place, he had to look at her twice to truly register that yes, this was Tokio.

What had she been up to? It was two and a half in the morning…

"Honestly, Hajime, you work too much."

His eyes slid to her, as they both waited for their lift to arrive. "Why did you assume I came back from work?"

"Because you actually decided to take the elevator; and you look haggard; and your tie is gone; and I can see your gun."

He rolled his eyes just in time to see the light appearing behind the door and they knew from the soft sound it was here. He opened it but went in after her.

"That's one mystery down. Where were you?"

"Out; friend called, complained, I gave in. Hadn't seen the group in a while, too come think of it, makes sense to complain. But we had fun! We went to a nice café first and then had a lovely dinner at a nice Italian place Rin-chan discovered. Then we went for a drink but "just the one" became one too many, so…I came back now."

She giggled as she exited. "I believe they were also hoping men would recognise me and come hit on us easier, but that didn't pan out."

So, a girls' night out.

"Just because you're slightly famous doesn't mean you or any of your friends are suddenly more attractive."

"Oh my God," she managed between smothered laughs "you are such an asshole…! You're lucky you banned me from tweeting about you," she warned.

Still, she was entertained by his behaviour, she couldn't lie. She had forgotten what it felt like to be contested and antagonised. Either due to her parents, when she was younger, or because of her fame now, people wouldn't say no to her; or deny her anything. Some didn't even speak their minds anymore if they felt it would contradict hers, it was so boring. No wonder she barely left her house these days.

Her closest friends and family didn't put up with her shit, but they too were busy, so how often could she see them? It was times like these she both hated and loved working from home. There was no way to meet new people, but then again, you didn't have to impress anyone. Double edged sword.

"I had no idea you had such high standards, Hajime," she teased, although she knew she was lying. She had seen Yaso; she was an extremely high standard. "Is that why you are still alone all those months later?"

He smirked. "I simply mentioned fame doesn't add to one's attractiveness…unless you're actively looking for an imbecile."

She chuckled. "I've had enough of those, truth be told, no more."

"Is that why you're, let me think, a year" he emphasised "all by yourself?"

Colour came to her cheeks. "I have been concentrating on my work these past two years; I just didn't bother finding someone new once Oojiro left me."

"He left you, huh?" he commented amused; her half glare was fuel for his fire. "What did you do?"

She sighed, annoyed. "He said we were getting too serious and wanted out; I assured him I wasn't looking for anything even remotely like that at the time; he countered with the fact we'd been together for two years;" he gave her his are-you-kidding-me look but she pressed on unhindered "I told him I was just like him, casual but loyal—we saw each other once a week at best, we're busy people." A pause. "And that was when he went off the rails!"

Her hands flew up chest high, as if countering an accusation. "But this is the time people get serious, he said, the two-year mark; so what, I say? Why don't you wanna get serious, he asks? I don't have the time for it; we could live in together, he says; but I don't wanna. Well, I do, he snaps." He liked how she did the different voices. "Oojiro, you didn't want us getring serious, why are you asking to live in with me? It's your parents, isn't it? They don't like me, they never liked me. Boy, the fuck?"

She shrugged, shaking her head. "After that we drifted apart because, apparently, I was frivolous and only passed my time with him, my bourgeois upbringing too evident in my treatment of him, as he texted me a month after that."

He didn't know if he had to laugh or question everything he knew about her. "Why would you be with a man like that?" Laughter won out in the end, coupled with the surreal day he lived through at the precinct. "You look like a smart woman; two years though…"

"He was less contradictive when we started dating," she said defensively "made more sense in general. And for me to say that…!"

"Bad choices, huh?"

They both turned right and started walking. "We are all entitled to them…! But it wasn't all bad; we had good moments. He was very dotting in fact. He had this habit of always bringing me food when he came over." She considered. "And the sex was good."

Too much information, said his face; don't be a child, said hers. Still, she shrugged. "That was a long time ago; I think I'm more comfortable being alone than I ever was in a relationship. At least I like me for me and whatever makes no sense is my fault alone."

"That's…sad, even for me."

Her eyes were scolding. "Even for you? You got married younger than I am now, and you don't look like the guy to get swept up by emotions so I bet you knew Yaso for a long time before you popped the question. You are the very definition of "family man", my entire existence must be sad to you."

Something in her matter of fact tone, the conviction in her voice, angered him; no, it wasn't anger per se, it was disappointment…deflation maybe? She sounded like not only did she believe he looked down on her, but she had accepted it. That didn't fit with his image of her so far; something inside him kicked. Purposefully, he walked in front of her and blocked her way.

"Tokio, there's nothing in the world that would ever link you and sad in my mind for more than a minute."

The way he was staring at her felt too close and personal; she could sense he was being honest with her, despite all his previous teasing, so she sobered up accordingly. "I know what it is to be private, I am too; I am of a traditional mindset but not archaic. And I respect your choice to be alone."

A pause. And then "I mean, I know you; wouldn't want to torture anyone."

She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes; just as she was about to commend him "you had to spoil the moment, didn't you?"

"The moment?"

"Yes, the moment; we just shared a moment. It was profound and heartfelt but you had to ruin it…!"

He chuckled. "I didn't know; inform me next time, so I know when to hold back."

She pouted "just go home…" as she fiddled with her keys.

But he snorted. "Go home? You're standing in front of my door."

"What? No…! this is my door; yours is on the other end, see?"

His head snapped left and right, searching the door number and nametag; he was shocked to find she was right and he was left staring. "What the hell?"

"Ah," she sensed his problem "your house is on the right from the stairs but on the left from the elevator and it threw you off."

He just stood there, nearly offended. "Why would anyone do this?"

"That's the design, detective; you never take the elevator so you don't know. Good night,," she wished as she opened her door "sweet dreams."

Just as he'd turned around, headed for his apartment, her head appeared behind the door. "You never shared why you got divorced though."

"Go to sleep," he groaned.

"Aww, but there's still time!"

"I gotta be up at six."

"Well," she drawled "there's still…some time."

"Go to sleep, Tokio, or else."

"Else what?"

He looked back over his shoulder; he held her gaze for a long time before finally saying "you'll regret wearing a dress to a fight."

"That makes no sense from a threatening standpoint."

"Makes sense from mine," he commented as he walked away, door to his house opening and closing without ever looking back.

Puffing up her cheeks, she went back inside. "Sweet dreams to me, too, I guess!"

He didn't know about sweet dreams, but they'd definitely be something tonight; maybe he'd been alone for too long or her dress was too tight but shit, she looked really sexy in that thing. The colour was right – he loved that black and blue combination –; the length was right – not too long but not too short either –; even the cut was right! Cleavage deep but still tasteful; lace teasing in the right places; curves hugged closely—damn it, he needed the rest! And a sleep deprived mind was not the best companion for these situations…

Maybe Okita was right. Maybe be needed to start dating again. That would get his mind off of the damn neighbour.

.

.

"Are you watching me?"

"P-pardon?"

When Saitou had looked at his screen, the caller id wrote Loony Bin; that meant Tokio was calling him…just as he had pushed himself out of his office chair, picked up the jacket on its back, and headed for the door!

"Never mind." He was just about to leave work, too – late, again – and there she was, calling. "What do you need?"

"Need? And what happened to greeting people when they call you?"

"Whenever you call it's because you need something: help; a favour; attention."

"Hey! I resent that."

He sighed; she could be so stubborn. He decided to do what he set out to do and proceeded to leave the precinct, bottle of water in his hand, cigarette pack in the other. "What do you need Tokio?"

"Help," she said it too fast and too low.

He snorted; he knew it! "With what?"

"Are you home?"

He didn't like how she evaded the question. "Just got off from work—see ya, Harada," he saluted the man who bumped into him on purpose and they both exchanged a nod of the head.

"When are you coming home?"

"In fifteen minutes?"

"Great! Can you come by my house as soon as you come home?"

"I guess I can."

"Perfect; see you in fifteen minutes!"

He didn't even get to say goodbye, or properly hear hers, as she ended the call immediately. Huh. Whatever this was, it was weird. What was up with her? He was curious enough to do as she asked and didn't stop to renew his supply of smokes on the way back. He simply walked into his car, drove home in a straight line, and headed to her apartment instead of his. He knocked on the door.

No answer.

That was odd. He knocked again. "Hajime, is it you?" he heard her voice from somewhere inside. "Yeah," he shouted back at her. "Use your key to come in," she shouted in return and that must have been one of the oddest things ever. Blinking once, twice, he produced his keys, found hers and opened the door.

"Hey, Hiru," he saluted the cat that rubbed herself against his leg the moment he walked in "where's your mistress?"

"I'm up here!"

His eyes immediately snapped up to the direction her disembodied voice came from. Gently shutting the door behind him, he removed his shoes and walked inside. She said "up here" so his eyes went upwards to find her, after travelling the entire length of the living room and coming up empty, holed up in the attic right over the bathroom door. The small compartment door was open wide and a familiar head appeared in its depths.

Then his eyes travelled downwards and spotted the ladder that had fallen flat on the floor, making it impossible for her to reach it. So, she went up there in search of something, lost her means of getting down and ended up stranded in the attic. He wanted to laugh so badly! She was just like a cat: attention-seeking, cute and with a knack for getting to high places without being able to get down. A smirk formed on his face as he came to stand directly under her.

"Isn't this usually a job for the fire department?"

She coloured. "Save it; I got up here because I was looking for my good kimono and the ladder…somehow fell!"

"Somehow, huh? Didn't have anything to do with how you kicked off of it?"

She averted his eyes. "Maybe…look, as fun as it is to be taller than you for once, can you please prop it up again so I can get down? I've been stuck up here for two hours!"

He tried not to laugh too much, although it was very hard. "I'd love to, but your ladder's dead." Her horrification was too much to handle and he snorted away a laughter. "It broke in two, apparently, upon impact most probably. I'm afraid you're gonna have to jump."

"What!?" Her shriek was smothered by fear. "I can't jump—I'd already have if I could."

He shook his head, mighty amused. "Not on the floor, genius; on me, I'll catch you."

For some reason, she lost all colour to that statement. "No way," she stated "I'm not doing it. Don't you have a ladder, too?"

Why was she protesting? "It's too much of a hassle, this is faster. Just jump, I'll catch you."

"Nuh uh," she vehemently protested, shaking her head "not gonna happen. You'll drop me."

He was almost offended to that. "Tokio, I won't drop you; jump."

"I'm too heavy, you'll drop me; think of gravity and acceleration. Think of your back!"

Ah, so she was insecure. He shook his head, amusement resurfacing. "I won't drop you, my back will be fine; you're not that heavy." She kept shaking her head adamant. "I'm strong, alright? I won't drop you." She still didn't move. "I can carry a man two times my weight for an hour without going out of breath, you won't pose much of a problem."

That seemed to make her reconsider her decision; he extended his arms, ready to receive her. "I'm pretty strong actually," he continued, flaunting a little "some men at the precinct are jealous, I had the best scores."

She cracked a smile, shy but condoning. "So, come on; jump, neko-chan." The nickname earned a giggle. "Don't be like the rest of your species and run away alright?"

"Don't make me laugh damn it! I need to focus, I'm nervous."

"Jump or I'll come up there and push you down myself."

She seemed shocked. "You can do that? Without a ladder?"

"I'm an elf, remember? You're the hobbit." She conceded, defeated by her own tweet. "Now come on, I don't have all day."

She took a deep breath, resolute; she let her feet hang and calculated the distance. With a final sharp intake of breath, she pushed off! Her eyes were wide shut so she only felt the transition from free falling to her fall breaking smoothly. She dared crack one eye open to see Saitou's chest; as she raised her head, she saw his smirk causing both of her eyes to pop open.

"Told you I wouldn't drop you."

He didn't put her down though; for some reason he kept holding on to her with that damn smirk plastered on his face, making her blush for some reason she didn't even recognise. She didn't want to fold under this peculiar pressure though, so she mirrored his expression. "All those weights paid off, huh?"

He jolted her; she felt like she was actually thrown in the air a little! Then he caught her again and after a second of staring her down, he gently put her on the floor. "You bet." She was heavier than average, sure, but what kind of special forces-trained man could not lift twice as that? He still savoured her surprised, panicked, and then relieved expression, as it turned into that universal look of disapproval only a woman could show so naturally. "You need a new ladder, too."

"Ugh, yes…"

She looked at the mess it made—it broke half the bedroom's door as it fell and dented the frame. She sighed. This needed fixing; but it hasn't even been half a year since she had to bring people in here! She was so disappointed in everything…except Saitou. But when her head snapped at him, to thank him, she saw he was already heading for the exit.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

"Home," he stressed "I just came back from work. I need food and a bath—in that exact order."

She shook her head exasperated. "I can't just let you go like that after all you did for me."

"Let me be and we call it even."

"No, no, that's unacceptable." When she actually reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him he had to stare. "How about you go home and have a nice long bath while I'll be cooking you a proper dinner here, yes?"

"…Tokio, it wasn't that big of a deal. You don't have to."

She shrugged. "I want to."

He had to take a very long, good look at her then. He couldn't wrap his mind around how this peculiar creature, leaving next door to him, could be so caring, down-to-earth yet ethereal at the same time; she was cooking for him but she got stuck in attics; she was the most awkward person he had ever met and yet, she had a way with words, at least when they were on paper. He didn't know what God he had angered or pleased to throw her in his life like this, but he felt a tiny bit grateful, amidst all the regret and tiredness.

That was when he made a grand decision.

"Suit yourself," was all he said. He put on his shoes and reached inside his pocket. He fiddled with his keys, counting them and finally, separating one from the fold. "This is yours," he tossed her one; she was about to be offended, thinking it was the one she gave him, but upon closer inspection, the key had his apartment number engraved on it "I'll be too tired to actually come here, so grab whatever you need and come cook at my place."

Realisation hit her gradually…but dawned all the same: he was welcoming her in his home, for the first time. She wasn't going to barge in uninvited. For the first time in their entire acquaintance, he saw her smile the way she did now, sombre, understanding, appreciative. It was downplayed in comparison to her usual toothy grins, but all the more heartfelt. He could tell. So, he nodded respectfully and left. Before he had time to process what he had actually done.

Oh boy was he going to regret everything about this.

.

That could not be possible. It just couldn't. What were the actual odds, he had to wonder? For this to happen this particular night, in this particular bar, it was just unbelievable. And yet, it did.

He shook his head for the umpteenth time that hour, hand over his eyes, drink next to his elbow and the resident ashtray. He was sitting on a stool at the bar of one of his favourite more underground choices – for a cop in Kyoto at least – casually drinking while chatting with the bartender occasionally. Well, chatting was too strong; the man asked and he answered. They were acquaintances actually. Saitou had basically exonerated him when he'd found out who had really committed the murder he had been arrested for; seeing the man had never even attempted a plea deal with the public prosecutor, knowing he was innocent, he was released as soon as the other one was arrested.

After that, being not just the bartender but also owner of said bar, he had given Saitou the license to come and drink for free for the rest of his life. No matter what, no matter when or why, if he showed up, it was on the house. Did he have friends with him? Their drinks were on the house, too. He was quite understandably grateful.

So, Saitou, being the reasonable but proud man that he was, never came here with company; him getting free drinks was fine, but anything else was too much. He did when he wanted to have a drink all by himself, gather his thoughts. Or when he was feeling too bad about something. Maybe have a quick one before going home…yet tonight was different.

For this night was the first night he had come here with the express goal of not going home alone. After that little freak out at the elevator, he had forced himself to start looking, at the very least, if not succeeding with the first try. He wanted to be alone, too because, well, Okita was already engaged and most of his friends were married; like he used to be.

So, he put on a really nice shirt, one he hadn't worn for over a year, his a-little-tighter-than-usual pants that Yaso always said complimented his physique, and went out. It was still hot outside so he didn't bother with a coat, but he did bring a nice matching jacket, just in case. His hair – in need of a serious trim – were naturally hanging back, without the need of gel or water. All in all, he looked good and he knew it. And when he'd said he wouldn't be going home alone, he meant it.

So why did he have to run into Tokio damn it?

And she wouldn't leave him alone, too! She kept buying him drinks and making it a big deal, just for the fun of it. He wanted to kill her! She wasn't even alone, she was with two female friends.

How did he always get caught up in these situations?

"This is the fourth one," the bartender commented as he prepared yet another drink identical to his, only to serve it to someone else "maybe you should go talk to her." He shook his head no. "I don't get you. You said you wanted to pick up a girl; she's a girl. A really, truly, very sexy girl." Saitou's eyebrow twitched. "Look at those tits man, just one of them's size of my fist."

"I get it," he bit out and the "shut up" was implied "her looks aren't the problem. The fact I'm her neighbour is."

"Oh."

"She's not buying me drinks because she's into me; she's doing it because she thinks it's incredibly funny to see me somewhere other than home."

The bartender laughed, his greying long ponytail dancing with him. "Then maybe go thank her coz since she's been buying you drinks, I've noticed at least four more women looking at you differently."

"Heh, looks like playing hard to get isn't effective only on men."

"It's human nature pal." The drink was finished. "Do you want it or should I give it to that guy who's been drooling for the past minute?"

Saitou chugged the remainder of his bourbon mixed with Baileys down, took a final drag from his cigarette and cracked his neck. "No, I'll take it. Go tell her if she wants to talk, she comes to me once her friends leave."

"Got it, boss."

He took a sip from the new drink just as he lighted the new smoke and he could see how the light left the eyes of the man drooling over it. Heh, it was the little things that brought pleasure after all.

It took three hours for her and her friends to break it off; those three hours she had bought him an additional two drinks which he both actually consumed. If he didn't know her better, he'd say she was trying to get him drunk. But he knew she was just being her weird self and when she stood from her table, waving her friends away, he noticed how her eyes turned to him, face a wide smile – and surprisingly without swaying, even after three cocktails –. Then she walked the small distance from her table to the bar and climbed on the stool next to him, high heels giving her a relative hard time.

He shook his head sighing.

"Hello there, neighbour!" He grunted. "I see you finally left work at a reasonable time and came to have some fun. "

"I see you and your thighs finally decided to join me."

"Hajime!"

"What? It's the first thing I noticed." She was both scandalised and laughing, hence the smack on his shoulder. But it was weak and more of a greeting than anything. "Ain't my fault it's so short…" But his unapologetic shrug made her glare comically. "So, how come you're here? Went men-shopping with the rest of your friends?"

"Hajime," she drawled "don't call it that…but yes, we went out to get Kou-chan a new boyfriend. The previous one sort of left her without so much as a goodbye and it did something to her confidence. So, we put on our sexy dresses and started looking for a place to go. Found this on our third try, came in…and there you were," the grin on her lips was wider now "all dressed up and relaxed, nursing a drink and playing with a cigarette, looking cool on the counter."

He rolled his eyes at her drama. "Maybe it is you who went out woman-shopping, coming here all alone, without any of your already taken friends to drag you down…"

His eyes turned challenging, that rare amber hue almost threatening. "And if I was?"

She laughed. "Good for you! You've been divorced long enough, time to get back in the game." A moment. "Oh no…oh no! If you came here to—and I kept buying you drinks…I'm so sorry, oh god, I must have messed it up." She put her face in her hands and made dying cat noises. "I'm so sorry…I can still go if-"

"Go where? Didn't your ride just leave?" She went perfectly still, peaking between her fingers. "I'm not upset, if that's what you're implying…I did come here to maybe get to meet someone but, to be honest, I don't know how to do it. I watched Okita do it a couple of times, before Ria, but I never did. Not to mention, none actually caught my eye."

That captured her interest. "How did you snag yourself a Yaso then?"

He leaned in. "Keep a secret?" She nodded furiously. "We were dating since I was fifteen." Her surprise was almost tangible. "We met at judo when I was ten; she was twelve." Her eyes widened even more if possible, question and impression all over her face. "She kicked my ass at a demonstration for sensei. I fell in love."

Her laugh was good natured and amused. "Then I turned thirteen and grew taller than all the other kids; I was a natural at judo, too so I easily became the top student; she was jealous and wouldn't talk to me." Queue her awws. "Couple years later I asked her out and she said yes." He shrugged. "We'd been together since and till we divorced."

"Oh man, I bet you were viewed as the "romantic one" at the precinct, marrying the high school sweetheart."

He snorted. "No one who knows me would ever call me romantic, ever." A sigh then. How did he end up talking about his ex-wife to the one person he came out here to not think about? "I was viewed as the one who had his life together though" he missed that feeling "getting married to the woman he was with for eight years…"

Maybe it was the drink that made him keep her by his side when he didn't even want to look at her while wearing that dress; or talk about his ex. It was the drink that made him pathetic. Yes, let's blame the alcohol, it helps my self-esteem.

"…why did you break up then, if you don't mind my asking? You sound pretty much perfect."

Sound; exactly. That's when his eyes and body shifted away from her, started staring at his drink, moving the opaque liquid around in circles.

"I didn't put in the effort when I should have; she tried to show me she cared in all the wrong ways. One thing led to another. I knew I should have never asked her to marry me, but I did anyway. Both because I'm traditional, as you have already noticed and I'd be the first in my department to get married so young." He chuckled self-depreciatingly. "I should have listened to Hijikata; it's not who does it first, but who does it better."

"You just…drifted apart?"

"She'd become someone I didn't recognise; I became someone she couldn't stand. And when I realised, it was already too late. I confronted her about it and, as expected, we had an epic fight; then she blurted out she cheated on me."

Tokio's sharp intake of breath was too loud. "Had been cheating on me actually, with some guy; the guy wasn't important. She only did it coz she wanted to hurt me." He shook his head. "She was crying and begging me to start over for days: on the phone, in person…I just couldn't. Said didn't want our marriage to end, but the trust was gone." He shrugged. "How do you come back from that?"

"You don't," Tokio agreed and he could tell she was completely on his side "cheating is a deal breaker, especially if there aren't any kids to think of…if it's just you and me and you can't even commit to that, how am I supposed to trust you with something even more important in the future?"

"Exactly."

She took some time before speaking again, giving him space and herself time to digest everything. Then, she put her hand on his shoulder, looking as sympathetic as she felt. "I am sorry to hear you've been through that."

He tried to shrug her off, but she was smart; her hand slid down to his and squeezed his arm. "But I am glad you shared it with me. It must have been hard."

"Not after I realised it was more my ethics and pride that were hurt rather than my feelings. Which is why I said: I didn't put in the effort when I should have. We're both to blame." He smirked. "Mostly her, though, according to the judge."

She had to laugh at the way he said that and he was surprised to find…he wasn't really lying. He wasn't sad; he was over it. That stinging sensation when admitting what happened remained, but that much was to be expected. There was no yearning for things to go back to what they were though, no nostalgia, melancholy, nothing.

They were just facts.

He stopped and stared at Tokio then, laughing with her head thrown back then her body reverberate with the last echoes of her mirth as she levelled a good smile at him; he came to realise…she soothed him. Her crazy personality relaxed him; her exuberance was met by his indignation; her bouts of doing nothing and scolding him about his schedule brought a sense of normalcy in his life, by making him realise how hectic it really was.

She was, quite frankly, his exact opposite; and that was what did it. Thinking about how to avoid, appease, thank her, made him stop thinking about Yaso; despite the fact she was her favourite author, he never stopped to think about his ex since he met her. If he was being honest, he liked that; and he liked her. She was fun to be around.

Huh; he came here to avoid her, or, more accurately, banish certain thoughts about her, and ended up coming to this conclusion. Just how?

Well, it could be the alcohol. No, it was definitely the alcohol, not any bothersome attachments he was starting to form, not like they were coming closer. At least, he blamed the alcohol, because it was convenient while admitting anything else – like how he suddenly felt very protective of Tokio when the bartender mentioned her breasts; or that stir in his stomach when she stood up fully and he could see what she was wearing properly; how he allowed his eyes to linger in certain areas – would be too much of a hassle.

Oh well; he'd still have to drive her home and he could reflect all he wanted then. The less time he spent with her in silence the better, but he could bet an arm and a leg she'd be out cold in one-minute flat after she stepped in the car. When it was too quiet with her, his eyes would try to find her involuntarily, too and, as already established, the last thing he wanted was looking at her for too long.

But in a weird twist of fate, he did get to bring a girl home; a sleeping, familiar girl, who snored loudly when she was tired yet somehow still remained adorable, even as she drooled on his jacket when he carried her up the stairs.

He chuckled. To think she never woke up even after four flights of stairs…what a heavy sleeper. It was almost admirable.

.

There was a knock on her door.

"Give me a second please," she said before she took off her headphones and turned to the door. She waited for a second and heard it again. Ok, so she wasn't imagining things. She leaned into their microphone, hastily grabbing them for a second. "Someone came, please give me a moment."

She stood from the couch facing the TV and went to answer the call, looking at the watch on her laptop screen, that rested on the coffee table. It was a strange time of day for anyone to be there, knocking; a little early for those who worked, a little late for those who didn't. Cautious, she looked through the eye whole, only to be surprised! There was Saitou, long before any late evening hour, standing there, dressed in one of his everyday suits.

"Hello Hajime! How are you?"

He blinked once. Was this the same person? Her hair was nicely done, she had make-up on while she actually wore a pressed shirt! In fact, her entire outfit was too formal: black, low-rise dress pants, white short sleeved shirt with a high collar that had a cute black bow at the front matched with a nice pair of pumps. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, I'm having an interview! Couldn't go live in my pjs, right?"

"An interview?" He immediately looked inside yet saw no one. "With whom?"

"Some people from France; I was very flattered. It was very last minute, too but since technology allows it, we decided there was no need to spend a fortune on plane tickets; we're having it through the internet! They told their fans, their fans told mine and now it's turning into a Q & A live stream." She chuckled. "It's pretty cool actually, it's streaming right now."

He was impressed. "Good for you."

She giggled. "Duck doesn't like all the wires she can't scratch."

He nodded amused but had to change the subjest. "Is this gonna drag for more than half an hour?"

"Um, no; we've already been at it for two hours so I don't think so. Why?"

He sighed. "I need a favour. Can you come over as soon as you're finished?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, see you then. And thanks."

Just as he made to leave, she asked "have you eaten anything?"

He shook his head. "Just came back from work."

"Early, too, by the way, how come?"

"You'll see when you come over," he answered as he rolled his eyes annoyed, but not at her, she could tell, so she didn't bother with the details just yet.

"Okay. But don't eat till I get there, go take a bath or something; I haven't eaten anything, too."

He finally headed for his own door, shaking his head. "Eat properly, idiot," he snapped as he fiddled with his keys. She waved him off and closed her own door, heading back to the couch and interview. She put the headphones back on and smiled at the camera she had attached on the laptop screen as she said "I'm back!". She saw the two men who were asking the questions smile back wider and more cunning.

Her eyes became small, curious, question obvious.

They looked at one another first and then, Louis, who was asking the fans' questions, simpering, asked: "was that man we saw at the background your mysterious neighbour?"

Fuck; she forgot to turn the camera away. Her face drew a blank, trying to put on her best poker face, but it was a lost cause, seeing the two men laugh heartily. She could even feel her cheeks grow bright red, her expressionless face did nothing to help!

"No…"

"It definitely was; it matches the one from the picture—how many people that are so tall live around her, titotheboss just posted," the interviewer informed.

She grew purple! "It isn't important, next question, please."

"Are you trying to avoid the topic?"

"Yes," she admitted, half laughing, half crying "let's talk about anything else."

"Alright, we'll spare you; you look very uncomfortable."

"Though, one viewer just posted anonymously that that's definitely your neighbour, she could recognise that annoying scowl of his anywhere, from any distance."

A snort of laughter escaped way too loud from the author who was convinced Yaso was the anonymous poster, aiming to make his life miserable any way she could. Oh man, how enjoyably awkward. "Same person says, to you Tokio, don't get attached or he'll trample on your heart. Wow! That must be one bitter ex-girlfriend, eh?"

Try ex-wife.

"Oh, another anonymous just posted, and I quote: leave Tokio-chan alone to form her own opinions, she-devil; don't judge from your own impossibly warped standards."

Was that—could that be Okita? Tokio tried not to laugh out loud but the impulse was too much.

"Oooh, the woman posted again: stay in your fucking lane, keychain-chan."

Louis could not believe what he was reading while his co-host, Oscar, was laughing unreserved. "There's more, there's more; the other poster just said: better a keychain that's practical and useful than a bitter hag who only exists to bring other people down. Oooooooh!"

"Ooooooh burn!"

"Oh my god, please stop with these posts," Tokio pleaded through tears of trying to hold the laughter back.

"Wait, wait, there's more: keep your trap shut if you don't want to be doxxed, keychain-chan."

A pause.

"That, that got serious. Oh, wait, there's a response from a hijihijitou: if you two know each other and this isn't a random internet feud, should he get doxxed, he could press charges against you; if evidence of you actually doing it is found you're facing jail time." Another pause then during which Tokio truly appreciated Hijikata's profound love for her work and love of order as well. "Let this be a lesson to everyone: don't doxx people, people; it ain't alright," Louis concluded after a long moment.

"Well, no one posted after hijihijitou so it's safe to say they listened…or know where the other lives and they beat up each other."

"Does this conclude our interview fellas?"

It did. They exchanged pleasantries, thanking each other for their time, and the connection was severed. She exhaled as she took off her headset. Oooooh boy. "How am I ever going to explain this to Hajime?"

Turns out, she didn't have to. The time it took her to undress, order take-out – there was no way she was going to deliver those news without food in her hands – redress and go to his apartment with said take-out, Okita had already explained everything to him; every little thing.

Thankfully, he wasn't upset. Mildly inconvenienced at best.

"What's the favour?" she asked then.

"My youngest cousin is fifteen; he's in high school. Teacher is a fan of your books and since you're the one author everyone in his class has read, they decided to write a book report on you." He stopped to gather his thoughts. "He found out I know you." A sigh. "He's asked me to ask you to help him with his home…work. Tokio, are you alright?"

There were tears in her eyes; her smile was watery. "I…I feel so blessed…they are writing book reports about my works…this is…such a milestone…"

Deeming her sentimentality justified, he felt this was a very pure moment to witness, it caused him to smile. "He just called he got off the bus, so wipe your tears away, writer-san; he's a fan, too. Wouldn't want him to see you cry, would you?"

"R, right," she said with purpose, frantically rubbing at her eyes to get the moisture away "I'm cool, I'm chill. Wait, he's coming over now!? I didn't order enough food for all of us!"

"I must have something in the fridge; whip up something quick, he'll love it. Your cooking is decent, it'll be fine."

She made a face. "Decent, Hajime?"

"…you haven't poisoned me yet…"

She rolled her eyes as a good right slap connected on his arm. It was on the floppy side of the arm but damn it, he was all muscle. It didn't produce that satisfying sound it always did…! "I make food art," she stated then, still incensed "not decent meals."

"Whatever; just be prepared, he's bound to come at any moment."

She made some pork curry with hot steaming rice; it was delicious, according to his cousin, whose report was about her second book. All had read the first, yet only half of them had read the second. So, the class split into two: second book and third book reports. Yoshiro was in the first group and had just finished it. He had loved it.

By the time the cousin had left, Saitou was treated to every spoiler imaginable. "You know, the second book sounds really interesting, too," he admitted once the kid had left.

Tokio, who was chilling on his couch, head tilted back, craned her neck to look at him with a smirk. "Does it?"

"Yeah…it sounds it carried on well after the first." He came to sit next to her; first, he picked up her feet that were in his seat. "Interesting developments, too." Then he sat down, letting her feet fall in his lap. "And it didn't get too convoluted for a casual reader to follow."

"Why thank you."

"You said you have the entire series back at your apartment, right? Can I borrow a copy?"

Her smirk didn't last long; it transformed into a brilliant smile that reached her ears. "I'd be delighted; in fact, I'd love to hear some criticism from you on my work."

A raised eyebrow later, he snorted. "I don't think so; I'm scathing."

"No, please do; and after you reach book number five, if you reach book number five, I challenge you to find out what time period it is and who the protagonist's lord is only by context information."

The glimmer of challenge lit up. "You're on."

.

.

"Hey Hajime," she spoke through a yawn "what do you need?" She looked at her watch. It was pretty late for him to be up and about, almost three in the morning. Even she was about to go to sleep.

So, it was no exaggeration to think she made the whole thing up.

Saitou Hajime, in all his glory, reached out and hit her upside the head with a copy of her own book! It was the third instalment; she recognised it despite the lack of light at her threshold because the moment he said he wanted to read her books, she had special covers made just for him. Thin sheets of paper that went over the hard cover, with both the regular and an alternate title on it, just to mess with him. This one had a wasteland for a landscape, the broken blade of a katana stuck in the barren ground while the rest of it, along with the hilt, lay on the ground next to it.

She chuckled. "I guess you reached that point, huh?"

"You're despicable," was all he said.

"…you've four more books to go through; and one that will be published in a month and change. Don't go calling me that so soon."

The horror that marred his face was priceless; she broke out laughing as he stomped off.

The very next day, he came by her house just as he had gotten off work.

"Hey there neighbour; what is it going to be today?"

"You owe me lunch." He didn't ask or suggest; simply stated it. "And I'm very hungry."

He produced the fourth copy, with its unique cover, as he walked inside, easily kicking off his shoes in that familiar spot by now. Hiru came to rub herself in his feet, per usual, and all was right with the world. He headed straight for her couch, the one in front of the TV and sat at that perfect spot, even if he was obviously going to read and not watch anything.

She shook her head. "Should I cook something?"

"Obviously." If he could see her face right now, he would have loved the impassiveness. "Make it spicy."

"I was thinking about shrimp."

"Sounds good; get to it. I have three chapters to go through."

"Have?" She was almost offended. Reading was not a chore!

But his answer calmed her down. "How do you think I managed to read two books in a week? I schedule. And for today, it's get to chapter ten. I'm on three. The rest when I go home, after my bath."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm a busy man; if I don't do this, I never get around to finishing anything but I really have to know what's going to happen." He scoffed. "If that asshole gets away with it again, I swear I'll throw the book at you."

There was something so genuinely rewarding in watching a person read her books; their reactions were real and unforced. First-hand account of it was precious, too. She could always guess which way the readers would go, which character they'd lean towards, but she could never be sure. This was very helpful.

Shaking her head, she headed to the kitchen to find the right appliances and foodstuff. "So, you never did tell me, Hajime; how did your cousin's report go?"

"They'll be getting their results back tomorrow; said he'd text me."

"Alright! Let's cook. Shrimp with curry noodles sounds good?"

"Perfect; just make it spicy."

She rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."

.

The headlines of every paper in town, the internet and some radio stations as well as some local news channels, two days later, where something like this:

Writer storms high school in Kyoto Prefecture, Kamigyou-ku, after a student she was interviewed by failed to achieve top marks in his book report about one of her own books.

Then, they continued with:

Teachers know better than the author what the author was trying to say, I guess, one of her tweets about the incident. Discussion about fundamentalism, conservatism and an inherently biased scope of the educators came to the surface. Despite the light-hearted approach it received, legitimate concerns were raised during formal and informal discord on the web. The author, Takagi Tokio herself, called the system rigid and archaic.

Statements from the student were never published, simply because they were never made. The comical proportions this took at Yoshirou's school were enough to make Hajime advise him to make no comment to anyone that could be from the press, as well as convience his friends into silence. Plus, he was a minor, so that was good.

"And if you dare tell anyone you know her because of me, I'll plant you deep enough to find water," he had threatened; it worked.

At least all the media coverage from the incident at school deflated the attention he had started getting because of Yaso's posts. He wasn't 100% sure it was her at first but then she called him, begging him not to change his mind about the special signed copy and she was so very sorry for putting him in the eye of the storm again, so it was decided.

He hadn't really cared. Tokio said would do it anyway. He wasn't vengeful enough to actively ruin that for her.

But the fact his tag stopped trending again was all that mattered; from mysterious to toll – as in tall, but misspelled on purpose – neighbour, slowly it died down. Instead, a meme was born: teachers know better than_blank specialists space_I guess gained traction in a heartbeat, seeing it affected real world matters and apparently too many youngsters or young adults could relate to that. In fact, it cased such a stir, political talks took place out of nowhere.

Huh. Who would have thought? But he was simply a spectator, sitting there drinking his coffee, reading the last book, shaking his head. And then he stopped. He went back to read the last couple of lines.

But he read it right the first time…a vein popped on his temple. Goddamn it "TOKIO!"

A head appeared behind the bathroom door, steam coming out; her hair was glued to her head, a curious expression on her face. "Yes?"

"Why would Sakura go to that temple? Why did no one talk her out of it? Why isn't Kotetsu stopping her!?"

She laughed out loud, getting back to her bath, door closing behind her. "Shut up and read, detective."

"But it makes no sense!"

"Read," she drawled in a sing-song voice and the water started flowing again. "And if you can answer me what time period we are and who's Rintarou's lord, I will give you the very first copy of the series to read before it reaches the greater public: mine."

"…bribes don't work on me, neko-chan."

"I made an offer and that offer stands," he heard her shout.

Except, they totally did right now; he would kill to be able to have exclusive knowledge on the finale. Not just so he could torment Hijikata with it, but also because now he was invested in the series.

Fuck it, he would say it once she came out. He was confident in his knowledge of history. He could do this.

"It's Tokugawa Ieyasu he's serving isn't it? The first shogun of the Tokugawa bloodline."

She jumped two feet high! "Damn it Hajime, don't creep up on me when I've just come out of the shower! I'm wearing nothing but a towel," no need to remind him "I feel vulnerable."

He did, too, for some reason; he did battle with himself not to comment then, in fear he'd say something that would make her hold a grudge for the next two hours but he needed his answer now. "Am I right, though?"

A pause; she looked at him calmly and for a long time. And then, there was a smile. "Yes, you are."

Heh, "I knew it."

"Well done;" she actually clapped twice "not many people picked up on that."

"That's why historians love your books so much, isn't it? You show the era without hammering it in." She nodded excited; the towel started slipping a little. He needed to look away. "And you've included many Easter eggs for history buffs."

"Yes, oh my god; I was so honoured to receive their award; and the swords; and the plaque. They're great people, too!"

"I bet…" Why was the knowledge she was naked underneath the towel more teasing than her walking to her door in her underwear two months ago? The towel covered more of her than half of the things she wears! "Know what, go put some clothes on; September is almost over, you'll catch a cold."

"Hahaha, you care about my health, that's cute."

Right, her health; sure.

A/N: Third chapter is up, fourth and final chapter will come...at some point. I love you all, take care. Best wishes to all of you wonderful people.

FAI out~!