A/N: I love you; I really love all you wonderful people of the internet. Have another update because I'm on a roll.
Title: Laws of Attraction
Genre: Humour, Romance, Slice of Life
Alternative Universe: Modern Day AU, Lawyer-Cop AU, Buddy-cop AU
Rai had stopped barking whenever Tokio came around by now, much like Okita; whoever visited often, the dog would stop feeling the need to alert his owner to their presence, whether Saitou actually expected them or not. That's how he knew it was one of the two that dropped by: he heard knocking on his door, but no warning from his huge puppy.
Sighing, he walked to open it; he just knew that out of the two, it would not be his friend. He just knew. And, indeed, he was faced with none other than the short bane of his existence, smiling brightly up at him, holding two blue garment bags and one paper bag that undoubtedly contained his three-piece and coat, as well as his tie, fresh out of the cleaner's.
"I thought you said you'd come by tomorrow," was all he gave her in terms of a greeting, but did move to relieve her of her load immediately.
"I know; I did; there was a small change of plans."
He did not like how she shared that information with such a big smile. "Meaning?"
"You'll have to pick me up instead; something came up at work and I'll have to be working till late—at least three, maybe four."
"Four pm?" She nodded; he chuckled. "You still have plenty of time left."
"No I don't; I had to reschedule with everyone! I'll have my hair, my make up and my nails done by two different people."
His eyebrow rose on its own. "You? Your nails and make up done? Since when?"
She clicked her tongue. "I told you, elitist bastards; it's the one time of the year I go all out."
He shook his head amused. "Whatever; are you coming in? Or will we be having entire conversations at the door?"
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, his phone rang. But it wasn't a call, no; it was a message. He was almost shocked to hear it at this time of night. "Know what, come in for a second."
She did, closing the door behind her, but never took off her shoes. She simply stood in front of it and petted Rai with all she had, using the wooden structure as support when the dog got a little too excited. She watched as Saitou put the clothes in his bedroom; but when he emerged, there was a very annoyed look on his face.
"What is it?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yaso." She almost glared. "She really doesn't know when to sto—op."
She had kicked off her shoes and made a run for it as soon as the name was spoken; without warning, she grabbed the phone out of his hands and proceeded to read the message.
"Relax."
"Know what, I wasn't planning on it, but sure, I'll stay. Go bring me a beer or something." she kept reading, scrolling up. "Why haven't you blocked her yet?"
"She keeps getting new numbers."
"Then why aren't you getting a new number?"
"I'm a detective, Tokio; and she knows both my personal and work number. If she can't reach me here she'll try the other and no one wants that; believe me she's done it before."
Why did this feel like an interrogation?
"Want me to make her stop? Just say the word and the restraining order is here the very next day."
"Tokio, I am more upset than you are...yet you're taking this worse than I am. Why?"
"Because she's getting audacious! Why is she texting you these things? At least you never answer other than telling her to stop but—" His message alert was heard again; she scrolled down to look at the message and her mouth hang. "Look!" She nearly pressed the screen in his face. "She just sent you a photo of her in a fancy dress. Thank Buddha she isn't sexting you, I suppose." Another sound; her face fell. "Scratch that; she just did."
Tokio was shocked by the woman's actions but most of all, she was exasperated by her insistence and willingness to commit adultery. But Saitou's eyes had grown wide and seemed to need confirmation; to his credit, he never looked at the screen.
"She's in some underwear that consist mostly of lace; huh, at least she has good taste. Though white's not her colour."
"Tokio, delete them."
"No," she snapped back emphatically to offset his overly calm demeanour "this is the perfect fodder for any judge! I'm getting the damn restraining order."
"...just promise not to involve her husband; if he finds out and for one reason or the other divorces her, if she's being like this now, I hate to think what she'll do then."
"Huh; you're not wrong. Ah, damn, she's naked now." She clicked her tongue. "Doesn't she know that leaving something to the imagination is sexier, what is she doing?"
"Tokio, don't look; just delete it—at least that one."
"Don't look? I'm a woman, what's new for me? You're the one who shouldn't look," she finally withdrew the phone from his line of sight, hiding it in her chest, even if he hadn't tried to look, "not to be tempted."
He gave her a look. "I've seen her naked a thousand times; I won't give in because of that now."
"That's what all men say when it comes to exes," she commented annoyed and finally, his chill facade was shed and he glared. "Wait, I'll text her this: stop sexting me; restraining order is on the way. How about it? Sounds like you, right?"
"I don't care," he answered clipped.
"Great—aw man, she's wearing different underwear now; these ones are red. Huh. They suit her better. Well, at least she realised half-naked is preferable, good for her."
He grabbed the phone out of her hands and actually threw it on the couch. "Tokio, enough; I don't care." He sounded angry. "You shouldn't either. Now are you staying or not?"
"I'm staying," she replied just as angrily and crossed her hands as she fell on the couch. She sneakily chose the one he had thrown the phone at.
He sighed. "Will you leave before the sun rises?"
"No," she kept being curt and a little prissy "I'll stay the night." To supervise you, her eyes completed what her mouth left unsaid.
"Alright...want that beer now?"
"I want to eat something, haven't eaten all day."
There it is; that's why she was so easily irritated, he mused and made a mental note to never have a conversation like this again, before her belly was full. "Let's order."
As he started browsing through fliers and suggested a couple of places, slowly her temper faded away. She wasn't lying when she said she had no intention of staying; she only did after she realised it was Yaso who texted him. That woman drove her crazy. To think she resorted to such basic tactics, how lowly and ridiculous. Then again, most of the times, these tactics worked. She had no idea why but the thought of her getting back together with him hurt her. It wasn't fair, he didn't deserve that. He deserved better...!
In reality, he never bothered with his ex-wife and he was very absolute about what he wanted: to be left alone. But the simple thought he could potentially cave unsettled her. But she didn't know why and that upset her, too because it almost felt like she was...no.
Was she?
She had no reason, so why would she be?
She looked at the phone, lying face down next to her, that dinged every time a message arrived. It was mostly pictures, other more salacious than others, with some sporadic strongly worded texts and she only knew because she dared peak at it while he was listing possible options. He had noticed her of course and she only felt worse because he didn't even say anything.
She sighed. This wasn't like her at all.
With another sigh, she put the phone on silent and left it on the sofa. "Know what," she found herself walking up to him, prying fliers out of his hands "I don't feel like junk food; I'll cook something instead."
An eyebrow rose incredibly high.
"I missed mum's curry buns and I know how to make them from scratch."
"I don't think I have the ingredients for that," was all he said.
"You do," she assured him, trying not to shake her head amused. He hadn't even opened his cupboards to see what she had purchased, unbelievable. "I bought them myself two weeks ago."
"Oh." He considered. "Okay, sure." Just as she pulled up her sleeves, he stopped her. "Only if you promise not to poison them."
"Idiot."
But then she looked at herself; she was wearing a new pair of black dress pants and her favourite white frilly shirt. She wouldn't want to get them dirty, even with the apron. And curry was nigh impossible to get off. "Know what? I'll go change first."
With all the ease in the world, she headed to his bedroom, knowing exactly where he kept what by now; effortlessly, her hand found Rai's fur when he jumped off the other couch to follow her and she disappeared behind his door. Just as that happened, he went for his phone. He scrolled past all the pictures, all the tantalising promises, and just wrote what he wanted.
For the last time, stop contacting me; think of your husband. I used to be in his shoes and I know exactly how he will feel if or when he finds out. Won't reply again but if you don't stop, next time you hear from me it will be through legal proxy. Have a good life away from me. I'm already doing the same.
He sent it without delay; on purpose, though what purpose that was he didn't know, he didn't put it back where it was, but on the coffee table. As if challenging Tokio to comment on the fact. But, despite noticing how it was moved – it was the very first thing her eyes went to, too, how controlling – she said nothing. She just put her hair up in a ponytail, pulled up his sister's blouse sleeves and put on the apron.
"Alright, let's do this; do you like spicy foods?" He nodded. "Extra spicy or moderate?"
"Moderate."
"Coward," she teased, smile returning. "Will you eat more than two? They come out the size of my fist, give or take."
"Then yes; I'm hungry, too."
"Alright; ten curry buns it is! Be warned, they take about two hours."
"Two hours? That's a little long don't you think? We should just buy them."
"If I said I'm making them, I'm making them." Her tone was authoritative. "Now go sit down and sip your beer." He complied. "Don't let me see you snacking on anything, or else."
"We're gonna starve, Rai," he confided in his dog; she scoffed.
"Rai can eat his dry food whenever he wants."
"But if he eats now, he'll beg for food later."
"And? Will you give in, detective?" She asked that with a smirk, eyebrows high, eyes suggestive. "Are you weak against puppy eyes, rubbing themselves on your leg for what they shouldn't have?"
She was saying one thing and meant another; she was having two conversations at the same time. He wasn't an idiot, of course he knew she hadn't let the previous fiasco go, but...instead of telling her to mind her own business, as he should have, he decided to humour her. "Never have been; not gonna start now."
His answer was deemed satisfactory, for she hummed, all airs and turned back to her just-gathered ingredients. "It's you I'm worried about, might end up sneaking him some treat under the table."
"If I was so easily swayed by begging and pleading I never would have been a lawyer. After all, I'm pretty ruthless." Her eyes slid to him and she was surprised to find he had walked next to her. Still, she didn't show it and kept her lofty expression peeled on him. "No whines or apologies work on me, if you're in the wrong...or, in Rai's case, not supposed to eat human food."
Right, this was about Rai, supposedly. Saitou leaned against his fridge, watching her mix her ingredients with a slight grin on his face. He had no idea what they just decided or talked about other than it had to do with Yaso and something about character. Her movements were precise and practiced, betraying experience with the certain food; her face was focused but oddly relaxed. And yet, traces of their conversation lingered on her, too though in other ways: the way she held herself; how she was still gravitating away from him; how she was almost smiling, too.
"I see you actually know what you're doing, so, I'll leave you to it," he said in the end, trying to rile her. "I'll be going over some files of our new case; if you need anything, just ask."
"Don't forget the short list of the suspects," she remembered just as he sat on the couch "and the rough draft of our main suspect's financial and actual moves before and after the murder."
"I won't."
"Oh, I'll need that list of police officers, too."
"Yes, I remember."
"Ugh, please include the timeline of all the murders, too."
He rolled his eyes; and just like that, they were back to normal.
But at least it was worth it; the curry buns were delicious. Still, the night went by very fast and they were getting ready for bed what felt like ten minutes after dinner, though it must have been at least twelve.
"You can use the guest room, you know," he reminded her for the third time that night.
She was already spreading a sheet, the blanket folded on the floor, pillow sitting on top of it. "But I don't want to. Here is better anyway: Rai keeps me company."
"He'd keep you company there, too," he coolly replied but it took a lot out of him to swallow his first train of thought that would definitely come out very wrong and very forward.
She pouted. "But Rai isn't allowed on beds."
And she was making it none the easier. Swallowing another line again, he simply said "he'd be on the floor next to you."
She snorted. "No thanks; if he isn't keeping me warm with all that fur of his, how do I know he's there anyway?"
He shook his head. "You're just using me to get to my dog."
"I admit to nothing." They shared a moment of appreciative silence. "I'll leave first light tomorrow, probably won't even see me so I'll say this now: You should come pick me up around nine; a little earlier is okay but not later." She considered. "That's about it. See you in less than twenty-four hours Hajime. Sleep well. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, dog thief." She smiled, even as she closed her eyes and lay there.
"No," she cried out as his footsteps went away "turn off the lights before you leave...!"
"Brat." As if on cue, the lights went all off. "I was going to anyway. Can't even do you a favour..."
"Thank you Hajime," she murmured a little guilty but was already starting to drift off.
How quickly did she fall asleep; and how fortunate. If she kept talking another minute longer he might have slipped up and vomited all those words he barely kept at the tip of his tongue; instead, they kept echoing in his mind like a bad case of nagging and he was forced to go to lie with them, doggedly lingering.
I could keep you company.
Rai isn't, but I am allowed. On all beds of this house. Couches, too.
If it's warmth you're looking for, I can definitely help.
Try as he might to just shut off his brain and stop it from screaming all these thoughts to him, all he did was make it worse. Sleep with her, he heard Hijikata's voice urging him, she already leads you around by the nose. He squeezed his eyes shut harder but it didn't help. Now he could hear Okita calling him a lucky bastard, too, joining the symphony. I am under the impression she is under the impression we're dating; we're dating; we're dating.
Damn it all, why? Why now? And why altogether?
Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt. It was the pictures; it was all because of those damn pictures Yaso sent, that meddling, bothersome woman. She tried to entice him, make him long for the "good old days" but all she did was remind him, hey, he is a man, too; he can be and most definitely is attracted to this young, sexy woman sleeping on his couch on the regular.
And look how Tokio acted because of those pictures, almost like she was...jealous. And that, in his sleep-deprived, desire-renewed addled mind was very alluring.
What was it with him and possessiveness? Why did it always turn him on, it wasn't healthy.
Alright, this, whatever it was, wasn't helping. Sending his cover flying, he stalked to the door and—pulled it open, as silently as possible. He didn't want to wake her. But he needed to throw some water on his face or take a cold shower, whatever was more effective. Carefully, he exited his bedroom and headed for the bathroom.
Light caught his eye. It was dim but there. He turned his head, to see it emanated from the couch. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he realised it was a cell phone that caused it; if it was on a couch, that meant Tokio had it. He watched for a moment as she scrolled down and then read something; then, careful not to jostle the dog – and when she did, she motioned for him to be quiet – she extended her hand to the coffee table and deposited his cell phone back.
"Your owner is a good man," she whispered to the dog; she chuckled after a long moment "but if he'd caught me, I'd be a dead woman."
He stared.
How underhanded of her, to pretend she was so exhausted, she was almost asleep, only to be left alone and once she made sure the coast was clear, look through his messages and see what he sent her. And yet, he was nearly as angry as he would normally be and for the second time in two minutes, he wondered the same thing: what was it with him and possessiveness?
At least that made up his mind. Cold shower it was.
Next morning, when he stumbled into his kitchen, a little sleepless and a little tired, he didn't see her on the couch, just like she predicted. The blanket and sheet were neatly folded, second resting on top of the fluffed up pillow. So were his sister's clothes. Next thing he noticed was it was very cold in his living room because the window was open. She must have left it like that to let air in.
Shaking his head, he headed to his coffee maker, to find a note stuck to it. He read it.
Brewed some coffee for you, it's in the black thermos; had to use your bath, but the floor is dry. See you tonight, detective, no later than nine. Don't forget or we'll be late. Have a nice day!
Despite the confusion and tension and all around chaos of his mind, he still found it in him to smile. He closed his window, put away the things on the couch and got ready for the last workday of the year, already bracing himself for tonight; he had no idea what would happen but whatever it was, he was sure it would be eventful.
.
"I'm coming!"
The clock on her wall read 8:37 pm. Per usual, Saitou was on time. "I'm coming!"
The first one he heard coming from deeper within the house than the first; that was a good sign, she was indeed coming. The he heard small fast footfalls approaching and immediately knew two things from the sound she was making: she was not wearing shoes yet, but definitely a long dress because she couldn't take big steps. Two seconds later, he heard the familiar click and the door opened.
"Good afternoon; come in, come in; I'm almost ready."
He barely got to see her; the moment she opened the door she disappeared again. He only caught a glimpse of blue fabric and all he knew was that he was right about the long dress. In an effort to urge her to be quicker he didn't even take off his shoes and simply stood at her doorway, although he did close the door.
"I just need to unearth my clutch; I can't remember where I put it but I'm pretty confident it's in here."
He looked around him; he could see she had everything laid out, for easier use: her plain white stilettos next to the chair, on which a very fine, definitely expensive white bolero jacket was hang. It was one of those "special occasion" ones because it had no zipper or button and the lapel almost sparkled. She really did go all out, huh.
"Found it!" she announced proud and three seconds later, she emerged from the room.
He was right to dread the moment he lay eyes on her; she was wearing a dress with an almost identical shade of blue to his suit; it was form-fitting all the way to her knees and then flared out, dragging behind her on the floor. If his memory served this was called a mermaid dress, or some other mythical creature, Yaso used to love these types of dresses.
Well, whatever it was, it made her look stunning.
He could tell she was curvaceous before, too but damn, this dress left no room for doubt; her figure was only accentuated by the weaving of the dress, the way the lines were made. In the meantime, her bust seemed to want to burst out of the dress and maybe that was why she chose such a thick strap for the shoulders, to be able to support all of that without breaking.
"Oooh, Hajime you look sharp!"
Finally, she had time to take a proper look at him and admire her good taste, as well as how well Saitou wore these clothes. The way he had left the coat open on purpose, scarf simply hanging around his neck, but not tying, was very fitting: tie, vest and shirt were there for all to see at first glance. He even took the time to sleek back his bangs.
She loved it!
But then, smiling, she twirled once or twice and oh god, the back was very low and the straps almost reached her middle and she had really nice shoulders, shit.
"What do you think? Isn't this dress great?"
He decided not to share exactly what he thought of her in that dress because he didn't trust himself; he just gave an appreciative nod and a smirk. "But I didn't know you insisted on the blue so we'd match." She pursed her perfectly red-painted lips as she crossed her hands and suddenly he couldn't focus because all he could see was the curvature of her breasts, even if he did his best not to look. "You look great; all your hard work was worth it. Let's go now."
Shaking her head, she used him for balance as she struggled to get into her shoes; he helped her into her jacket and waited till she transferred her phone, keys and some money from her purse to her tiny white handbag that was otherwise plain, save for the metallic finish on the sides and where it buttoned closed.
"It's not white, it's off white, a shade darker," she corrected when he made fun of the clutch, turning her nose up at him. "Same as the shoes and the jacket."
Only then did he realise, her hair did not move with her; that was because they were secured in an intricate do at the bottom of her head that appeared far more loose and casual than it really was. Some braids went in there and around it, too. That prompted him to notice the fact she was wearing earrings and a necklace. They were the same design, resembling teardrops, so he figured it was a set. Huh. How didn't he notice the necklace earlier? He spent, what, half the time he's been with her staring at her bust? All of these reflected, too, how did he miss it?
Then he realised. "Is this real diamond?"
She nodded; "and sapphire. I obviously picked them out after the dress." A giggle. "Dad bought them for me, they were too expensive."
"What a spoiled brat." She wore that with pride and winked at him. "You are a menace. I pity your father."
She laughed. "Pity my poor mother; it was my father who spoiled me to begin with."
The elevator finally reached its destination and they were ready to go. He had to help her down and up any stairs though, because the gown, even with the really high heels of her stiletto, still licked the floor.
"Is this New Year's party really so extravagant?" he had to ask at some point, while driving.
"I'll only say this: every year, the mayor is invited; every year, he drops by for at least half an hour."
He had the address in the gps of his car so it led them there and he drove without much thought, but he only comprehended where they had arrived only once he saw it: the huge fountain, the lights illuminating the water, the statue, the grand staircases...
"This is the Kyoto National Museum," he deadpanned "it's seldom used for events." She nodded, fully aware of what he was getting at; his eyes darted to her. "Just what did you get me into?"
She smirked, challenge on her perfectly painted lips. "Hopefully, your future." He tried to roll his eyes at her dramatics but he only managed a knowing look; the prospect of a future, any future with her, felt a little too desirable since last night. "Let us go detective."
He exited the car first and then promptly opened the door for her as well as helped her out. Then a man came to take his keys, which he gave, and they moved to the entrance. Contrary to his original belief, there were no cameras or photographers to snap their picture as they ascended the outdoor marble staircase.
Once they entered the museum, even the hall before the ballroom was decorated to match the theme. Where tickets where usually sold, now a woman stood, accepting coats, furs and jackets from the guests, handing them back a little chip with a number; they had effectively turned it into the wardrobe.
"You clean up very well, detective," an impressed voice was heard just as they had received their own tokens.
Both turned to the sound and none other than "ah, if it isn't the pig," greeted them. He looked a lot better than usual, true, but a piece of shit with a silk ribbon, is still a piece of shit.
"Tokio darling, you look delicious."
"Thankfully, I cannot say the same for you," she shot back and tried to leave, but his annoying chuckles stopped her.
"Did you know? We have a mistletoe contest inside; and it's mandatory to participate." He chuckled again. "I guess I'll keep a very close eye on your move—"
Tokio opened her mouth to snap something back, but Saitou was quicker. Using his height to its best advantage, eyes dangerous, he towered over the man and warned in a very low, very lethal voice, "if you come closer than a three-meter radius to either one of us, I'll throw you out the damn window." He leaned closer. "Whether you land on the porch or in the fountain, I don't care."
There was a pause, just so he could appreciate the threat. "Now lose yourself in the crowd before I do it for you."
When he almost ran away from them, Tokio had to stop herself from laughing out loud.
"I was about to say how there were definitely provisions made for individuals who have documented animosity between them not to be held to the same standards as the rest, who may be friends, strangers or even couples, but that works, too."
With unrivaled satisfaction, she linked their arms and walked into the main hall.
"It really is breath taking, no matter how many times you see it," she commented, taking all of it in.
Tables set all around the room, creating a great opening in the middle of the room for those willing to dance; a band played all type of songs, put on a stage at the far back. Speakers littered the grand room, disguised with seasonal decorations. Crystals were hanging from the chandelier, and huge balls of something from the ceiling, while it was also lined with what appeared to be fake snow, giving the illusion of being outside. Impressive glass vases and ash trays were here and there, while servers with the finest champagnes and wines, put in the best possible glasses, came and went.
"Food will be presented after everyone is accounted for," a server informed a man just then and Tokio chuckled..
"That is code for all the important players haven't arrived yet," she informed her date. "Hmmm, even businessmen were invited this year; look at that man with the ridiculous eggplant jacket?" He smothered a snort at that. "He's a spokesperson for Sony. That one with the much younger woman on his arm? He's the CEO of a Kyoto-exclusive clothing line—and he makes a killing. Ooh, that man is a judge. That one is a broker...a lot of people this year," she mused out loud.
"And that man who's looking at me like he wants to see my head mounted on a spike...?"
Her head snapped to the direction he nodded at and...her eyes grew wide. Then slid to him and then back to the man he was talking about repeatedly. She blanched.
"That's dad." She swallowed. "But if dad's here that means so is mum; where is mum...?" Her shoulders squared; she stood up straight. "Why can't I see mum?"
"I saw your father in pictures—he looked nothing like this man."
"You never saw him in a tux; plus, dad has a crazy look about him when he gets upset. He's currently upset, though why I don't know. Now, let's mingle and don't linger at one place; the mistletoe aren't hang—it's a person going around, giving it to you; he asks first and you have to accept something he's giving you; then the person he or she gives it to has to kiss the person closest to them." She gave him a look. "So don't stray too far."
"Wait, why do I have to do that? I don't want to kiss anyone—especially a stranger."
"Awww, are you scared you don't remember how to kiss someone properly? After all, it's been a long time since your divorce." She pat his back. "Don't fret, it's like riding a bike, you can't forget." Another giggle. "Unless you were never any good at it on the first place, in which case, just do your best."
"Take care of what you say; you can't outrun me in this dress." She hid a laugh in her hand. "And call me crazy, but the idea of kissing a stranger just because of a plant, isn't all that appealing to me."
"Meh, it's just a peck. That's the proper etiquette for strangers, at least. Oh, and you can't linger. Kiss them and that's that." To his curiosity at her surprisingly in-depth knowledge of the matter, she simply shrugged. "Americans are big on this tradition and I studied law in the US of A; had to give or receive plenty of those. But really, it's no big deal. Just get it over with quickly, like a band-aid."
"I still don't like it."
"It's tradition, Hajime; and you can't just completely ignore and turn your nose up at your hosts. You have to make them like you, remember? Now move because I think dad is about to come here, move, move!"
"Why don't you want him coming over?"
"Because if he does, so will mum and then it's over." An actual sigh later, she confided in him that "she's really pushy, I don't want her around right now."
"Compared to you, no one's is pushy."
"Hajime!"
"Fine, let's move. But we'll be incredibly easy to spot, I'm the tallest guy in the room."
"If we keep mobile for long enough, it will be fine. Just—..." She stopped talking then and discreetly glanced over her shoulder; she'd thought she saw something in a reflection and when she looked again, yes, she was ascertained. "Hajime, don't look, but your ex-wife just walked in."
Shit. "Yaso is here?"
"Just arrived; oh, she's wearing the fancy dress she sent you yesterday. I wonder if she's wearing the red or the white underwear." She considered for a moment. "I'll go ask her!"
He grabbed her hand tighter. "You'll do no such thing; the older guy with her is her husband and remember what you promised?"
"I don't see any guy with her right now, but fine; we'll stay away from her. Now let's go find my bosses!"
The night turned out to be an actual race, neither would have guessed. They had to navigate the room with three things in mind: stay out of her parent's eyesight, remain a very good distance away from Yaso and avoid the mistletoe person at any cost, while still keeping up a civil and fun conversation with her bosses.
It was no easy feat, because, well, it was large, but it was still one room. The doors to the balcony were open, so one could easily escape there, but most people steered clear for one good reason: it was freezing cold outside.
"Don't stand there for too long, you'll catch a cold," Saitou advised, seeing she was wearing nothing but the dress; her shoulders were exposed, her bust, her back—she'd definitely get ill if she lingered.
"It's fine; people don't come around here too much and I'm tired of running away in these heels."
"You did get a lot of admirers, too," he commented lightheartedly, but deep down, it had annoyed him. She wasn't being flirtatious even, they came up to her. Still pissed him the hell off. Well, it made sense; she looked like this. But to think so many people would flock, it was exhausting swatting them all away.
"Ah yes; the league of extraordinary gentlemen. How vapid of them. They all complimented my necklace, too." She shook her head. "But not one of them said anything about the earrings, even if they are the exact same thing."
"Tokio, no one notices them; they hang from your ears, who cares? The necklace on the other hand is positioned in a far more strategic place." He purposefully glanced there. "And it hangs very low. In fact, the necklace serves two purposes: gives an excuse to any wandering eyes as well as an excuse for eyed to wander."
Her face transitioned from shock, to offense, to disbelief and finally to amusement all in three seconds. She smacked his shoulder. "The sweetheart cut is supposed to be a tasteful option!"
"Whatever it is, it's cute and I never said otherwise; but "nice necklace" sounds far better than "nice rack"."
"Hajime!"
"Sir, you are being horrible to the lady, how reproachable."
A man's voice said that, somewhere on their left; if it wasn't so humorous and obliviously teasing, Tokio would have told him to mind his own business, but his suppressed smile held her back. Instead, she sighed theatrically. "Indeed sir, he is; quite crass as well."
He nodded sagely, causing Hajime to roll his eyes. "Would you like me to give you some advice on how to make it up to her?"
Hajime shook his head. "Please do!" she egged the man on instead and the stranger, even to her, came closer.
"I think you need to kiss her and make up."
Both people looked at him at a loss for words; for one big, silent moment, Hajime felt personally attacked. But then, the man came and did something very weird; took Saitou's hand and...imprinted something on it. With an office seal. Upon closer inspection from both people – who would have reacted much differently if this entire conversation hadn't turned out so bizarre – they saw it left the design of a mistletoe on his hand.
The couple rolled their eyes at the same time but Tokio actually laughed. "You are the mistletoe guy! Oooh and you asked to give us something—advice. And I accepted." He nodded, glowing. "Haha, I never would have guessed it would be something like that. How smart. And to think I've been refusing photographs and drinks from everyone because of it."
"Well, now that you know," the stranger continued "you have to kiss."
"Can this—?"
Suddenly, all the lights went out; an abrupt silence spread in the entire hall and just before everyone started wondering what the hell happened, one of the walls, the one who was bare, was hit with light and a number formed: 12; then it changed to 11; then—
Everyone realised it was the countdown to the New Year and the entire room started counting down with it, in loud, booming voices "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
A loud sound deafened everyone; if Saitou had his gun with him, he would have certainly drawn it; but he still went for it. What he thought was a gunshot though, turned out to be something quite different: a downpour of fake snow that was released down on them from the huge white balls that hang from the ceiling!
Laughter, oooohs and aaahs were heard all over and finally, the lights turned back on; immediately waiters came out of nowhere, replacing the drinks that were by now full of the fake snow with clean champagne.
"Let's all raise our glass and wish ourselves and everyone we hold dear, happy new year."
That was her boss who said that, spotlight suddenly on him. They all complied and made the toast; the theatrics were over at the same time and proper light filled the room again. Some cheered, some clapped; others downed their drink in one go.
Tokio touched her glass to Saitou's, a genuine smile on her face. "Happy New Year Hajime."
He returned the gesture. "Happy New Year, Tokio."
"Happy New Year to you folks; now kiss! Don't think I forgot about it."
"Oh come on, spare us," Tokio complained.
But he simply shook his head with a vengeance. "I am the great mistletoe and you must abide by my rules." His eyes gleamed. "Besides, you'll be the first kiss of the year; quite the honour. Now," he made a big show of imprinting the mistletoe on Tokio's hand too, just so more eyes could catch it "kiss! Kiss, kiss, kiss."
He started chanting it, loud and clear; it took no time to gain traction and half the room around them did the same.
"Oh well, it's just a kiss right?" Tokio whispered, shrugging. "And Yaso is watching; too late to disprove her now."
"That's not the point."
"Then are you really worried about being terrible? It's okay, I won't judge." His "shut up" was barely heard. "Ah! Don't tell me you're shy—!"
Alright, that was it; he had an ego damn it, and it was being bruised a little too much; ignoring his better judgment, egged on by the chorus all around them, he grabbed her by the waist and did the one thing he didn't want to but thought of doing for the entire last week: he crushed his lips onto hers with abandon.
The very same moment, a jolt of electricity ran through her body; she slowly melted into the kiss, following his motions and before it even registered, her hands came to rest on his chest, giving back as much as she took. Her fingers tingled, itching for more contact; her toes curled with satisfaction and there were butterflies in her stomach.
She came to the unexpected realisation she didn't want to stop kissing him.
But she had to. The kiss came to its natural end, before it deepened thus became inappropriate, and they parted, almost in slow motion. Her chest heaved; she felt like she ran a mile. There were cheers and claps all around them, signaling a happy crowd, but all she could hear, echoing, was the beat of her own heart, wild and erratic. Her eyes had focused on his lips and she couldn't help but feel hers, too, swollen and throbbing.
She could not believe it. She enjoyed kissing him so much, she was reluctant to stop.
And all because some people in a room wanted them to kiss. They would leave though, and most, she'd never see again; but Hajime would stay. So would her confusion and newfound feelings for him. Shit. Shit, shit, shit; this was bad. Stop looking at his lips, she berated herself, could you be any more shameless!? Next step was actually asking him to kiss her again, which didn't sound all that bad right about now.
Her face was flush and she felt a sensory overload. She distantly wondered, did this have any effect on him, too?
"I thought you said I shouldn't linger," he teased in a whisper, after another moment and now her face was redder than ever. Bastard had to comment on that didn't he? Nothing escaped him!
At least that gave her a clear answer to what he could be feeling—not all that affected, after all; almost stubborn, she made up her mind to appear as unaffected as possible.
"Well, Yaso was watching," she excused herself, a smirk forming "should make it look believable. Besides, you are not a stranger."
"Ah," was all he said.
"Congratulations," the man who had been the one to instigate this entire fiasco exclaimed "you are officially in the running for best kiss." He stamped both their hands with another seal, and they saw it read in bold, blue letters: seal of approval. "You have three more couples to contend with and one more will be chosen till one o'clock. Five finalists; be sure to stick around till then."
Well that helped take any tension out of the moment; they both shook their heads and...wait, they were too close. He was still holding her. With a fluid but slow motion, one hand left her waist, but the other stayed. He noticed; she noticed; he noticed she noticed and when she turned to ask what that was all about, feeling infinitely more like herself than ten seconds ago, he looked to the right.
"Yaso is coming over."
Oh; she sort of deflated mentally at that. And here she thought she had made an impression. But no, it was all business with this man. On the other hand, Saitou couldn't thank his lucky stars enough for the coincidence because, quite frankly, he just wanted to hold on to her a little longer. He only noticed Yaso after Tokio gave him the look.
"Great; we ran into the mistletoe man, now Yaso's coming over. What's next? Mum strutting here—ah! Mum. My mum; she might have seen me, oh no..."
"What's up with your relationship with your mum, really?"
"You'll only understand after you meet with her."
Yaso finally reached them, not three seconds later; she wasn't in the company of her husband though, no, she was with two more women. "Hajime," she greeted "you look very nice. And you," she turned to Tokio, almost surprised "I hardly recognised you."
Tokio τurned to the other women as if she didn't exist or just talk to her, but her hands deliberately slithered around Saitou's chest and neck. "Ladies, hello, how are you? And who may you be?"
"Hi," they both saluted and introduced themselves as "Haruka" and "Chihiro."
"Now that you know each other, can you spare Hajime for a second? I need to speak with him."
An eyebrow raised on the man's face. "Is it life or death?" Her face fell. "I'm not interested. Bye Yaso."
"It won't be too long."
"No means no," Tokio stated.
"I'm sure," she insisted, casting a keen look on their hands but mostly his, on her waist "you can keep your hands off of each other for three minutes, yes?" She had grown testy; her friends noticed and exchanged looks. "I need him just that long."
"I'm not going to ask you how long I'm going to keep my hands on someone or not," she snubbed just to spite her "and if you don't mind, we have far more important things to do than talk to you."
His ex-wife turned her nose up at them. "Yes, I noticed, just a second ago; seems your relationship is built on emotion, mutual respect and deep trust."
Her sarcasm was almost palpable; Tokio's lips curled into a devious grin then just as she gave her a look over her glasses, knowing just what to say to drive her crazy; to take her revenge; to discourage her from ever contacting Saitou again; to give her a taste of her own medicine.
To make her green out of jealousy.
"Don't hate on something simply because you can't have it, dear."
Without further delay, she let her hand fall around his arm. "Goodbye ladies, it was nice meeting you; let's go, Hajime," she said and dragged him away. "By the way," she couldn't help herself as they were leaving, "neither the dress nor the underwear were impressive. Though I do hope you opted for the red ones. Goodbye."
Yaso changed ten colours; her veins popped out of her skin from the suppressed emotions. Her eyes remained trained on them and, just as they were making their exit, Tokio passed right in front of her. Yaso saw her chance and took it; she grabbed Tokio's elaborate hairdo and pulled!
For one horrible, terrible moment, after Tokio had screamed out in pain and fell a little back and Yaso's two friends dropped their mouths open in scandal, everything froze; next, Saitou dived into action: with no hesitation, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from the scene, his ex-wife's finger still entangled in the hair, just in time. One second later and Tokio's balled hand would have found Yaso square on the face.
Who, naturally, hadn't expected such a reaction because the look of pure fear on her face was unrivaled.
"How dare you touch my hair, you uncultured—?"
"I am a law enforcement agent," he spelled out for the both of them, glaring at Yaso but resisting Tokio's attempts to break free "what kind of behaviour is this?"
"Did you hear what she just said!?" Yaso almost cried the words, but he dismissively shook his head.
"That gives you no right to attack her."
"Se pulled on my hair!" Tokio was quick to accuse, too, pointing at her viciously, because she couldn't actually reach her. "My hair, Hajime!"
"And that's deplorable but you can't lunge at her; you do and you know what that means, I'm not the expert here. Calm down, come on; we're going."
He didn't even put her down or let go of her, he just dragged her away as she still struggled to be freed; they were a good distance away when he finally decided it was safe and he let go, sighing. She glared.
"Am I supposed to just let her get away with it?"
"Tokio, you're a lawyer; hit her with a lawsuit, not a fist. Think of your father—think of your poor mother. She raised you better than that, or at least, tried to." She huffed, crossing her hands and sending Yaso death glares. He chuckled and that made her redirect her glares. "Tokio, she's not worth the time or effort, trust me."
She deflated. "I know, but..." she clicked her tongue. "She ruined my hair."
He knew that hid so much more behind it, but decided not to push her; he smiled. "Then, if we win, I'll make sure no one snaps a picture."
Alright, that was funny; she chuckled.
"And if that tall woman with impressive physique for her age stomping towards us is your mother," by her reaction and how fast her head whipped around to see what he mentioned he knew he was right "then we hit jackpot; three for three."
"Oh no," she nearly cried and his her face in her hands "let's go before—"
"Takagi Tokio stay put, I swear to god!"
"—she comes. Shit."
"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this."
"Shut up," she snapped in a small voice.
"Do you want me to lie?"
"At least show a little support, asshole."
"Tokio," her mother's stern voice stopped all conversation and caused both people to look at her "here you are. Hi." But her eyes immediately slid to the one of interest, aka, Saitou. "Who is your friend?"
Her mother was, or actually, Tokio was a spitting image of her mother. They were almost identical, save some decades; eyes, colours, hair, same. Only body type changed, as well as height, but otherwise, he felt like looking at her in thirty years from now. Amazing.
"Mother, this is Hajime, you know his name; I told you about him."
"The detective?" her mother was quick to ask, surprise and interest only peaking. "I had no idea you two were dating; you never mentioned that during Christmas. Just that you're working together."
"We aren't. Mum, this isn't what it looks like."
"Are you telling me I didn't just see his ex-wife pulling on your hair and you almost attacking her?"
"Mum, why do you know that? How?"
"Oh?" Her mother was torn between sharing this piece of information with her daughter and being a smartass. She decided to do both. "Don't tell me you don't know who his ex-wife is married to?" She shook her head no, violently; her mother looked at Saitou for an explanation who simply shrugged.
"She never asked for my ex-wife's new husband's name."
"Is anyone going to tell me his name and identity or am I going to start guessing?"
"She's Yami-san's new wife."
Tokio took a sharp breath. "No...!"
"Oh yes."
Tokio started laughing, waving her hand in front of her face. "Oh man, this explains so much about her behaviour. I'll tell you later," she assured Saitou and then turned to her mother. "So?"
Her mother accosted her, not to be heard too much but took hold of her daughter's hand from the side Saitou stood on purpose. "I didn't know she was your boyfriend's ex-wife, too, your father and I found out today. You see, while her, Kojuuro and Yami-san and I were talking, she saw your detective and said something about him stalking her and how did he even know she'd be here and how tasteless it was to bring his new girlfriend to parade her around."
Meanwhile, Tokio was openly gawking at Yaso's audacity to claim he was stalking her; Saitou was about to burst.
"So, Yami-san tells her to ignore him, but she won't stop going on about it; your father and I exchange looks, you know how we told you we think Yami-san's new wife is a leech," they both nodded like it was only natural "and try to get her to change the subject. But no luck. So, in an effort to spare your father, I ask her, well, where is this ex of yours? She points to him; can't miss him, can I?" She smiled up at Saitou. "You are a tall man." He nodded for her to continue. "Anyway, I tell her, he can't be stalking you. One can only attend this party if they have an invitation. She turns her nose up at me and snaps, well, maybe his new girlfriend got him one. So I ask, who's the girlfriend? The one next to him, she says. And whom do I see next to him?"
Mum stared; hard. Tokio smiled guiltily. "You." She smiled wider. "And I just stand there, staring blankly at you from afar, because I had no idea you were dating someone!"
Just then, Tokio realised something. "Mum, d'you tell her I'm your daughter?"
"Pfff, certainly not; I wanted to assess this myself first." She crossed her hands then, glaring. "Tokio, why didn't you say anything?"
"I am not dating Hajime."
"Then why the hell does his ex-wife think that? Why were you two kissing three minutes ago?"
"Madam, allow me to explain—"
But her mother never let him finish; she scoffed and shook her head disappointed. "Did she talk you into this, too? I don't care what she says, if you're sleeping together, you are together. Don't let her fool you."
"Mum!" Tokio almost shook her from sheer indignation. "What are you saying to him? Are you serious? This isn't, Hajime, say something! We're not-..."
Oh hell no. "What are you doing here?" Yaso was seen approaching the scene with none other than Tokio's father on her left, holding onto him for dear life.
"I came to get my friend, Tooka-san, in the company of her husband."
Oh yes; Tokio was going to love this. Her father had forced Yaso to let go now, and offered his hand to his wife.
"To make sure you don't attack me again?"
Yaso said nothing; simply held her head higher but almost hid behind the man. "This is my lawyer, Takagi Kojuuro-san," she gestured to him, as if no one knew who he was "and he's here to advise me on what to do and not to do."
"Actually I am your husband's lawyer," he corrected "and I can't advise you on much other than don't do it again, for I specialise in corporate law. But I didn't get to properly introduce myself: hello," he turned to Saitou, which Yaso found very suspicious "I am Takagi Kojuuro; and you, young man?"
"I am Saitou Hajime, sir, pleased to make your acquaintance." He gave a small, polite bow.
"So you are Yaso-san's ex-husband." He nodded. "And her boyfriend."
Saitou stood a little straighter when Kojuuro said that, eyes sharp and all-seeing. This was getting way out of hand; he made the mistake to give in and kiss Tokio, not just because of his ex-wife, but because he goddamn wanted to and both her parents bore witness to it, or at least heard about it. And now he had to face these people and try to explain. How? It was a lost cause. He had to come clean about this.
"Sir—"
But "sir" turned to Tokio without letting him finish – what was it with this family and always cutting him off – and shook his head. "Why didn't you ever tell us about him?"
Pardon?
Yaso had sensed that something was a little off, but didn't know what; and now, as he addressed her "replacement" so informally, she blinked. Wait, what was going on? Did they know each other?
"You should be ashamed of yourself, leaving things such as these to chance. You should have told us."
"I told her the same, too honey," Tooka agreed, nodding.
"I'm sorry," Yaso finally interjected with enough force to be noticed "but what's your name?"
Tokio smirked. "Although you never asked for it in a way that would compel me to give it to you, fine, I'll introduce myself: my name is Tokio; Takagi Tokio."
There it was: this is what Tokio was looking forward to! All colour drained from Yaso's face and her mouth opened slightly.
"She's our youngest," her father shared, pride in his offspring obvious "and the only one who followed in her father's footsteps and chose the law." The smirk on Tokio's face grew bigger, as if feeding on Yaso's increasing panic. "And apparently, the most secretive; honey, Yaso has informed us you've been in a relationship with Hajime at least since November."
Tokio tried to contradict him but she didn't feel like it, not in front of her; she simply sighed and shook her head.
"Why didn't you bring him over for our Christmas dinner?"
"Was that why you were late?" her mother was quick to assume and although yes, they were, they weren't like that. "You were together?"
"Yes and no; know what, we'll talk about this tomorrow, alright? Now escort this woman away from me before I decide to sue her...or not show up."
"Fine," her father gave in immediately, "but you'll tell us everything."
"Not just that! We insist you bring your date—you simply must come, Hajime," her mother all but rubbed her hands together "you'll get to taste my new recipe for udon!"
"What a wonderful idea honey, yes; please come, Hajime."
"I'll have to decline, I'm afraid; my parents live in Tokyo and New Year's is the one day I am sure to see them."
"I wouldn't want to keep you away from your family, I understand; but I still want you to come whenever you're able."
"That's easy," her father interjected "we'll have him promise to attend our next family dinner, no matter what; how about it"
Clearly outvoted, already chased into a corner, he did all he could; which was to say, he nodded wordlessly while Tokio shook her head at their antics.
"Perfect," Tooka-san commented, a very satisfied expression on her face. "Oh, sweetie, we meant to tell you; you look so pretty today! Both of you, in fact, you look very nice."
Her mother blew her a kiss and they all retreated towards Yaso's husband, who couldn't care less about the entire ordeal.
"What the hell just happened?"
That's when she finally let go; she heaved a very deep sigh and looked at him pleadingly. "This is why I didn't want mum coming over! She says whatever she wants, does her thing and leaves you wondering what the hell you just agreed to."
"So this is where you take it from."
Of all the things he could have said, he chose that one; she snorted a laugh and put her hand on her forehead, feeling helpless. "I give up. I, I am done. I am ready to go home now..."
"I sort of need to process this, too so let's."
For the very first time, their timing was right; exchanging only nods from that point onward, they managed to leave the room, escape to the hall, grab their stuff and lead themselves to his car.
"What a day," he mused, hands on the gear shift.
He had just pulled up at her apartment complex, still mulling over what she'd shared with him about Yaso's new husband. So, this was why Yaso was reaching out to him; Yami-san was getting bored of her.
"In fact, he changes wives almost every two years. Divorces the one, finds the next. But he's a gentleman, always helps them get back on their feet. Yaso is lucky number six."
"Only seven? How old is he?"
"Ah, right, you don't know; Yami-san married a wonderful woman he was deeply in love with when he was barely nineteen; till death do us part and all that...and it did; eleven years ago, his wife died of cancer."
"Ouch."
"But he loved her to bits; to this day, I believe he's still in love with her. Which makes sense he goes through wives so easily. Once he told my father he already had his happily-ever-after, now he's only looking for someone to keep him company. Several someones, apparently."
That was some news.
Then she sighed once more and gave him a very honest, vulnerable look. "I'm sorry about my parents;" she considered "and the thing with your ex-wife;" she considered some more "and the mistletoe incident. I wasn't trying to cause a scene."
"I know," he assured her.
"It's my fault for insisting you come with me to this stupid party; I didn't want to cause any problems, I swear."
He tried not to imitate her and sigh, too. All he could think about ever since the mistletoe incident, as she dubbed it, was her lips, how the taste of alcohol was sweeter when it came from them and how soft they were. Pliable. Even now, all he did was watch them move up and down, that vibrant red ever-present, despite drinking so much; and eating. And kissing him...
He really wanted to rub his face raw right now; all he wanted was to kiss her again. Dismiss her worries completely with a real kiss. If that didn't dispel all issues, he didn't know what would: it would show her he couldn't care less about Yaso; he didn't mind her parents; and he certainly did not mind her decision to follow the instructions of the party.
But he couldn't. That would probably create a thousand more issues than it solved.
"Tokio, it's late," was what he said instead, hand running through his hair "we're tired and we've both had a lot to drink; let's save this for another day." She gave in, nodding once. "Now, are you ready?"
"Quite."
"Need my help with the stairs?"
"Ah, no; just get the door, I'll be fine."
Shrugging, he complied with her wishes and left his seat; he opened the door for her, offering his hand to help her out. "Thank you, Hajime; and goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Just as she was about to walk up the stairs, she turned back to him. "When will we be meeting again?"
"Whenever you want, after Thursday." He smirked. "I wasn't lying to your mother you know; tomorrow and the day after, I'll be in Tokyo, with my family."
"Oh, the entire family?"
"Brother manages the restaurants; sister is a chef in one of them. Where will they go?" She chuckled, good-naturedly. "Haven't seen them for a long time. It'll be nice."
"I'll call you after then; have a nice and safe trip."
"Thanks; see you."
She waved at him one final time, and he got into his car. He waited until she was safely inside the building before he drove away, a faint smile on his face. Despite everything, this wasn't such a bad night. No matter what, only one thing was for sure: he was bound to put his thoughts in order when he went home. His brother always had a way with these things.
The only thing he worried about was his mother and whether his landlady's gossiping had reached her, or he'd have a hard time even mentioning Tokio to his brother, because mom's ears would be peeled on them.
Oh well; the die has been cast. He'd face the music soon enough.
.
.
"Tokio."
"Hajime."
"You look terrible."
"I know; can I come in?"
It was the fourth of January, ten o clock in the evening. Saitou had just come out of the shower, Rai hot on his trail, rubbing himself on his feet. The moment knocking was heard, they both redirected themselves from the couch to the front door. And when it revealed none other than Tokio, he shook his head amused, smirk easy on the lips.
She though, he wasn't lying, did look bad. He tried to joke, but it came out as fact: her face was too red, her hair a mess...what happened?
He needed answers. He stepped to the side and let her in, Rai now rubbing himself on her instead, feeling her bad mood, in an effort to cheer her up. But her smile was fleeting and although she did pet him, she didn't linger. First sign of things going wrong.
"Can I have that beer now?"
He nodded, already walking to the fridge. He grabbed two and brought them to the table. Only after they took first sip, after he sat down, did he ask her "what's wrong?"
"I have good news and bad news. Good news is, I'll have plenty of free time to look over our case, time I didn't have before."
She took a deep breath, leaning back on the couch, eyes closing. Rai, unsettled, came to lick her better, but she barely pet his head. Saitou became suspicious.
"The bad news is, I'm out of a job."
He stared; a blink later he shook his head. "Are you serious?" Her morose shaking of her head was all the agreement he needed.
Now Saitou was unsettled, too and he looked all around him first, then back at her, to make sure this was real. "What happened? Why?"
She sniffed, trying to fight back tears. "They are assholes that's what happened. They heard Yaso's story while at the party and they believed it, confronted me about it yesterday."
The pit of his stomach disappeared and he almost dropped his chin.
"Said if word got out of our relationship, it could damage my reputation. Not to mention, they fear what the extent of my involvement would be with your future cases, as well as the one we're trying to solve. For some reason, they followed up on everything I filed and said I shouldn't have filed the injunction." She snorted. "That is not okay. They even went as far as to say you're only using me for your cases."
Shaking her head, redder than ever, she took another sip from the glass bottle. Her speech was already slowed, but the beer helped none.
"Then, when I explained to them I only helped because your go-to lawyer must suck and how this was not a big deal, they claimed my time was their time and their time was expensive; I explained I did it in my free time and how I also work for them during my free time and they just..." she shrugged "stopped listening. And flat out ordered me to stop our project. When I refused, once again, they threatened to bury me under a mountain of paperwork and corporate law."
She swore, sagging.
"I demanded they reconsidered; they said it was final. I asked them if this was how it was always going to be with them and they said yes."
She finally sat properly and looked at him after a long time. "So I quit."
That was a wild ride from start to finish; once her tale was finished, he exhaled, perplexed. "What are you going to do now? Rent? Bills? Do you have enough saved?"
But her tired but genuine chuckle, made him look back at her with hope.
"I own the apartment; dad bought it for me once I returned from the states. I only pay the taxes on it. And I have plenty of money saved; plus, my end-year bonus will be large. I completed the work that was required for it and then some and there are no clauses to suspend or cancel it altogether because I quit." She shook her head. "My problem is not financial, but ethical. Why would they not want us working together, even if they thought we were dating? That's ridiculous. Plenty of the people in the firm are sleeping together, but they couldn't care less."
She sighed and now Rai was making a full frontal assault just to stop her frowning. She appreciated the effort but almost didn't respond to him.
"So it's basically my fault."
"No, stupid; did nothing of what I just said stuck?"
It felt like it though. "Fine, let me rephrase that; I'm basically the excuse."
"That, yes."
He snorted. "You should have never convinced them to invite me to that party.
"But they wanted me to stop the before this, remember? They have some sort of problem with me or the police and I don't know what that is. Maybe they thought I'd be easier to handle but I turned out different and now they are trying to show me who's boss; maybe they don't like the police. Whatever it is, they are assholes."
She gesticulated, like she was used to, but this once, she hit her head on the arm rest; she withdrew it lazily. That was when enough was enough, he had to ask. "Tokio, are you feeling well?"
She shook her head no; he put his hand on her forehead and, as he suspected it, she was running a fever. "You're burning up." She nodded. "You knew?"
She nodded again. "It's a psychosomatic thing; I always fall ill or a variation of that when I'm upset.
He clicked his tongue. "You knew something like that and still came here? Did you drive?" She nodded again. "This is ridiculous; and unsafe. Stand up, Tokio, we're leaving."
"N-noooo...! I came here to cry to you and cuddle your dog; can't leave yet. Haven't even began crying..."
"I'm driving you home. Let's go."
"Don't wanna."
"Where are your car keys?"
"I'm not telling you." He glared; she managed a smirk. "You're welcome to pat me down."
He looked through her purse instantly; when that yielded no results, he grabbed her discarded coat and touched the pockets. Bingo! Right pocket, of course; he should have looked there first. When he jingled them in front of her face, she pouted.
"These will be returned to you once you're feeling better; for now, they stay with me." He actually put them on the highest shelf, just to spite her. "For now, Rai, come on; we're leaving. We're taking Tokio home."
"You allow him in the car?"
"Of course I do; just grab that sheet by the door. I use it to cover the back seats."
"...I don't wanna go...!"
"I'll pick you up and put you over my shoulder if you don't come willingly."
Her first gaze was haughty but when she realised he tended to fully realise his threat, she huffed. "You are a brute. Fine, have it your way."
"Do you have anyone to look after you at home, should I make any calls?"
"I'm an adult; I've been living alone for a long time. I need no one."
"Suit yourself." A whistle later, Rai came bounding to his side, leash hanging from his mouth. "Let's go." He grabbed his own car keys, his wallet – with this license and identification – and a cardigan. They got to his car but he didn't let her sit shotgun, he sent her at the back with Rai. "He'll keep you warm till we get there and you can actually rest a bit. I bet you had a crazy day, today. Just rest."
She had fallen asleep in seconds and by the time they arrived at her house, she was jostled awake by her door opening. "Tokio, where are your keys?"
"You confiscated them, detective," she murmured, not feeling like moving any time soon.
"Not the car keys; the ones to open your door."
"Oh." She took such a long time to answer, he wondered if she'd fallen asleep again or not. "Inside pocket of coat..."
"You're wearing it." She hummed, not fully awake. "You could give them to me." She groaned, eyes closed, complaining. "Fine;" he gave in as he rummaged through her pockets again "but I'm not carrying you inside."
"That's an option only when you wanna threaten someone, is it?"
"Are you s—? What a brat. Rai, come on, we're taking Tokio upstairs."
With that, the dog happily barked and lunged for the street. Tokio fell back lamely, losing her huge, warm pillow. She groaned again, lazily sitting upright. "Why d'you hafta be so ruthless?"
After not carrying her to her apartment, but making sure she went there in one piece, he left immediately. He didn't want to stay behind with her; he feared he'd do or say something incredibly stupid. As if it wasn't enough that the two days he was at home with his family, his mother had driven him insane about her and who she could be and why hadn't he brought her over...at least, as he'd hoped, his brother had managed to put everything in perspective for him.
"Do you like this person? Do you think you can stand her long-term? If the answer to both those questions are yes, then what are you waiting for? You can never be sure of another's feelings towards you. Just go for it."
He liked her, yes; he liked having her around. But he wasn't certain he could live with her. She was bad for his health...she raised his blood pressure to start with. She was also incredibly spoiled, the very definition of princess. Then again, she made in a year more than he made the entire time he's been working for the force. She was independent; but demanding. And quite opinionated. She had this belief she could never be wrong, too. But she was sharp, insightful and empathetic; she could read his moods and situations with ease. And she was definitely the supportive type of person.
She was also too concentrated on her job, though; two workaholics didn't make for a good relationship. At the same time, this just happened; even the idea of them being together brought her such problems. She still didn't blame him, even came crying to him, which was good, but he still felt bad.
He shook his head. He'd just have to wait and see what their partnership would develop into now that she was no longer obligated to work with him and how that would affect her decision to so this on the first place.
And yet, it was the waiting game that was the hardest.
.
She called him about ten times, in the span of three days. She wasn't much of a caller, to be honest, but when she did call, it was usually because she needed something for the case or arrange a meeting. Although the first few times that was exactly the subject, the more he spurned her tries to get him to her house and work again, despite sounding ill, the more she called him about unrelated things. He would always try to hurry her – good lord, her voice sounded deeper than his – not to exert herself, but she kept calling.
"What now?"
"I'm feeling better detective; and I stopped being contagious. You may safely enter my home whenever you are able. How about this evening?"
He chuckled. "Alright, I give in. tonight, at nine; I'll bring over Rai, too."
"Whatever you want."
When he knocked on her door, nine o clock sharp – her neighbours were sending him and his dog dubious looks – he was greeted by the funniest sight he had so far: Tokio, in all of her sick, sleepy glory, clutching a steaming cup of tea in her hands, opened the door. She wore her teddy-bear themed pajamas, had her hair on a messy knot on top of her head, while she used a blanket as a cape.
She was also equipped with a surgical mask, an obvious courtesy to him.
Rai didn't care; he still jumped on her to lick her silly. Laughing, she pet his head . "Hey Rai, Hajime! I aerated the house before you came and as you can see, I'm wearing my mask, per doctor's orders. You may enter with confidence."
"Just make sure I don't get the plague."
"What a baby...don't worry, I won't infect you." It's not like they'd be doing anything other than working. "Now come inside quick, I'm starting to get cold."
"Cold?" he asked in disbelief, because just as the door closed, the heat hit him in the face. "This place is an oven;" he accused as he took off his coat and scarf "I'll start sweating soon."
"Then you're welcome to take off your shirt, too," she urged meaningfully "I won't mind."
He turned to her and held her gaze, expressionless, for a long time; just when she started thinking he took that as an insult, her heart beating quicker, he simply pulled his tie a little lower, as he always did when they worked together, and smirked.
"Take care of what you say; you may not wear that dress now, but you still can't outrun me with the blanket."
She pretended not to be amused by his comment while, in fact, fighting back a smile; she said nothing though, and simply went for the couch, graciously allowing him to take the armchair. He, though, decided to sit next to her, maybe for the first time. That took her by surprise but when he made no note of it, she simply looked away, a small smirk forming.
"I brought you Okita's findings on the officers who were involved with our main suspect." he produced a list of names and his phone. "He recorded everything and sent me an audio file."
"I'll listen to that, thank you," she took the phone out of his hands almost excited and was alrady connecting her headphones to the device "you go over these documents I've put there." She showed one corner of the table. "It's all you need for now."
"Thanks."
It hadn't been ten minutes that he felt something hit his arm; thinking she wanted to tell him something, though why she couldn't just speak he didn't know, but turned to her...only to find her half-asleep, leaning on his hand. He tensed.
"Tokio?"
She didn't speak, eyes already closed. He removed her headphones and tried again. She murmured in response but barely registered he spoke to her.
"Maybe I'm not feeling all that well, after all," she decided as he shook her, trying to make sure she was awake.
"Oh is that so? After you brought me all the way here, suddenly you aren't feeling well again, huh?" He shook his head. And to think she insisted he came two days ago, or even yesterday.
"I thought I did, but I turns out," a yawn, "I was wrong. Don't scold me," she drawled, complaining, trying to hug his hand.
His body finally relaxed; making up his mind, he raised his arm, allowing her to fall on his side and chest, curling there immediately. Rai whined, a mixture of jealous and feeling left out, but he motioned for him to be quiet. She was being very cute; he could not refuse her this. He brought her closer in this one-armed hug and she appreciated his warmth all the more. A pure feeling of care and relaxation spread out within him and leaned back on the couch, taking her with him.
"Or maybe, you just wanted an excuse to bring me here."
"And why would I want to do that?"
She was both coherent and sleepy; but he was fooled once before by her antics and ended up seeing her going through his phone, he would not fall for it again. Even if now she was actually ill.
"Because you wanted to see me again."
There was a buzzing silence.
She never withdrew from his side, but he could feel her stiffness. Was he right? When he glanced down, her eyes were turned away from him and her cheeks had gone even redder than before; he could imagine the pout underneath the mask, too. He smirked down at her and kept her firmly in place, lest she got any ideas of running away. "And, what would I do even after I found out, leave so soon? And waste all that gas? No way, I'd stay; I'd stay and keep you company."
"I admit to nothing," he barely heard her grumble and had to smother a laugh.
"Well, you were right." Her surprise was betrayed by her too quick to look at him eyes. "But I can't have you sleep-fainting on me, too; let's not work, alright? The case can wait; your health shouldn't."
A different type of warmth spread inside her; nodding, she buried her head in his shirt. He smiled. "What do you want to do?" She shrugged. They never did anything not work-related together, he realised; he was at a loss. "Wanna watch a movie?"
"I'll fall asleep through it anyway, but why not...?" She cuddled even closer, if possible, and when she saw he did not attempt to move for the remote, per her obvious desire, she smiled. "How was work?"
"Eventful."
After that first opening line, an entire series of interconnected, seemingly unrelated stories were told, all perfectly leading to the climax of the narration, which was him being attacked by a homeless man, as he looked for an abuse survivor, victimised by his used-to-be last case's suspect, in a very bad neighborhood. Her reactions had been muted but timely and appropriate, letting him know she was still listening.
"But it looks like you had a worse day than mine," he finished, taking a look around the living room and the small heaps of tissues or blankets, or used tea cups.
She nodded fiercely but when that made her dizzy, she just rubbed her head on his clothes. "It was dreadful. I hate being sick."
"Maybe it isn't just psychosomatic; maybe you caught a cold standing in front of those damn window-doors in that dress."
"Leave the dress alone; the dress is perfect."
"Perfect, but troublesome."
The conversation came to a slow end when she never answered back and he didn't care to elicit a response from her. They just sat there, tangled, and enjoyed each other's physical presence. It wasn't the eye-opened he had imagined, nor the moment he figured it would happen, but it did. He reached a conclusion: he did not mind spending time with her. Just being around her, with her, like this, was fun. It relaxed him.
As confirmation to the thought that popped up, he hugged her a little closer for a second; when her knee-jerk reaction was to squeeze him back, he smiled. He made up his mind, once she was healthy again, he was going to properly convey his sentiments. Hopefully, she'd reciprocate.
Judging by her current state, he was almost certain.
A/N: Yaso is always a delight to write. I am so sorry if she seemed a little too catty, but I loved her and was looking forward to writing that scene. Now, one more chapter to go and this puppy is finished. Hope you pretties have had fun so far with these stories, because Imma keep going. I'll try not to be too annoying.
Still, leave a review, if you can, always makes my day.
Love,
FAI~!