A/N: Hello people, I'm back at it again with a new chapter! More of a transitional type of thing, but I enjoyed writing, whenever I could actually sit down to write because daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, real life got in the way a little too much. Anyway, tell me if you like it as always and I love your support. Many thanks to my great beta reader who always comes through, Error205.
Here we go!
Title: Fake it till you make it
Genre:Romance, humour, slice of life, child care(kind of)
AU: Fake Marriage, Modernday
"This is Tokio speaking; how may I help you?"
"Tokio-chan, long time no see! Or hear; you don't even remember my voice? How disappointing."
"Okita-san!" It took her a moment, but once that affectedly cute tone registered, the arbitrarily familiar honorific in the end of her name, she put two and two together. "Yes, long time no see; how are you?"
"Me? I'm fine—it's you who's the interesting one! I heard my best friend is going to propose to you. You cunning little fox, you wrapped him around your finger after all."
She laughed. "Ridiculous; I'd never, Hajime of all people."
"What I hear is different though...tell you what, why don't we meet in a couple of hours? You can explain it all then."
"Of course, I'd love to; Gyoen National Garden is good for you?"
"I'll be waiting right outside, per usual." She smirked at the little addition. Probably people were listening in on him and he was being extra convincing, how thoughtful of him. "See you in two and a half hours."
"See you then."
He hang up; she looked at her watch. Hm...she could make her twelve o clock appointment, if she took the company's car and driver. Deciding that was how it was going to be, she went back to her papers, as the clock on the wall signaled ten fourty-five.
.
"Tokio-chan."
"Ah, Okita-san..."
No matter what they'd said over the phone and all the pretending, she still managed to pick him out of a crowd relatively easily; not just because he was shorter than the average male in Japan, but also because he was, well, memorable: light brown hair, bright brown eyes with a unique twinkle of mischief. Okita.
"I booked us tickets, we can go inside for a walk, if you'd like," he informed, offering his hand.
She took it readily. "That sounds nice; I've never actually been..." she murmured in the end, a little ashamed; she spent all of her life in this town but she had never bothered. It was beautiful though, made her regret never setting foot in this place.
They followed the tour, mostly tourists from other countries, until they reached a spot, near the riverbank, where no one else was lingering; in fact, after their tour left, they were the only ones there. That's when he came to a stop, disengaging himself from him in one fluid motion. She watched with interest, as he went close to the water, looking at his reflection. "So, you're getting married," he started off, innocuous enough, hands in his pockets.
She came closer then, as she replied an amused "yes..." but only once she looked closer at the water did she realise he was using it as a mirror, looking at her reflection instead of his own.
"What are your intentions, Tokio-chan?"
Her eyes became smaller, eyebrows drawn together. "To make us both happier."
"I've known Saitou forever; when he came to me with this request I was...surprised to say the least. He did mention this wasn't his idea by far and I can tell, he's at the end of his rope; there are signs, you know? His eyes had that glazed-over look yesterday all shift, he was dreadful and I just knew it had to do with Aiko-chan before I ever asked. He told me of course, everything about his mother-in-law and the letter, but you...you had come to him the day before that."
"What letter?"
"Oh? You don't know?" She shook her head no. "Well, it doesn't hurt to share—not this; basically, yesterday came the letter from the Department of Justice, about his preliminary hearing."
"Oh, okay; he did say something about that, just not the letter explicitly."
"I figured; the thing is, Saitou told me he saw you that night, today—and you proposed this just before the letter arrived in his hands. That's suspicious."
She shook her head, mildly amused. "We just ran into each other at a bar; he was the one who spotted me first, in fact, I went to him only after he bought me a drink. Thing is," she tried to ignore how he seemed surprised at that tidbit of information "it just happened—it was good, or bad, timing."
There was a small stretch of silence during which Okita was scanning her face from top to bottom, vigilant for all those micro-expressions that could be telling of a lie; all she did in return, was to stand there, one hand on her hip, the other hanging limp, head tilted to the right. Her mouth was something between a grin and a smirk and her eyes spoke of not offense, but fun; at his expense no less. He sighed.
"I remember you from our case; you've always been bold and honest. I was just making sure that hasn't changed."
"Not at all."
"Fine then; I'll allow this. I will support you."
Slowly, her expression transitioned from challenging fun to brilliant, unadulterated joy!
"But!" He put up a finger, as if to stop her enthusiasm from snowballing "if I so much suspect you're trying to be crafty in a way that hurts him, I'll end this entire fiasco."
"Oh please," she waved him away, almost laughing "I like the man; I don't want him to suffer. And if I happen to get a little something out of it, so be it."
"Tokio," for the first time that day, she became absolutely serious, as he had dropped the honorific and the adorable act "I know for a fact you are not a bad person; and I also know he too likes you...but shit happens. Don't hurt him. Or worse, Aiko-chan; if you hurt them, I'll be your worst nightmare."
Without a shred of worry or discomfort, she took his hand again and urged him to walk. "Okita-san, you're a good friend; I promise to abide by your rules."
The way she inclined her head, imperceptibly, made his good humour return and laugh. "Perfect; just so we're clear why I'm doing this." It was no small thing after all, knowing there was a very big chance he'd have to lie under oath. "But please, call me Souji!"
"Souji-kun sounds good?"
"Love it! Now, I have just the perfect idea for how he's going to propose to you, I'll talk it over with him once I leave here, too but this is the gist of it:
Saitou and Tokio where sitting in her favourite restaurant, having a formal dinner; both dressed to impress, they shared a little bit of their day between bites. Once their meal was finished, he asked for dessert; instead of the server showing up with the two plates, though, another appeared, a familiar figure, wearing one of his better suits: Okita, holding only one plate, covered by a small metallic dome, came to her side.
Surprised, she looked from one to the other in entertained suspicion, catching on quickly; and then, Okita pulled it away, revealing a small, blue box in the shape of a cube. Clearly, the case of a ring. Startled, she took it in her hands after a reassuring word from Saitou. When she opened the cube, right in the middle, it contained a wonderful, diamond studded band, with a nice sapphire right in the middle. Her mouth opened wide which she tried to cover as well as she could when Okita laughed boisterously and informed "engagement rings are all the rage lately; the perfect after-dinner snack."
"If you'll have it," Saitou supplemented and she looked red in the face, airing herself.
"Yes," she finally let out, all chocked up, fingertips touching her nose. "Yes, please," and instead of taking the ring out of its place, she pushed it towards her partner, left hand extended, her entire body leaning over the table.
Unfazed, he pulled it free and slid the ring on her finger easily. "It suits you," he complimented after a second of admiring it, holding her hand.
"You suit me more," she kindly teased and actually stood from her chair a little while applying pressure to her grip, just as much as it was needed to use him for momentum, crash her lips onto his for a long second, and then fall back down. "It's perfect," she sighed then "I'll never take it off...maybe when I'm cooking. Flour is a bitch."
Okita and Saitou were a little surprised at her forward move, but still found it within them to smile or laugh along. And even if Saitou looked it less, it was Okita who snapped out of it first. "Congratulations you two!" he actually hugged Tokio as she sat there, squeezing as much as he was able. Then he let go and went to Saitou who actually stood and they shared a big, short hug. "See? I told you she'd say yes."
"You talk too much."
Thus, the proposal was realised, just as Okita had suggested; they knew the public place was important but even more important than that was making a grand show of it, to have as many witnesses as possible. The staff wouldn't forget such a request for a proposal for a long time and they'd definitely talk about it a lot—especially since that was a restaurant Tokio frequented and one of the other two places they had met accidentally that one year and a half they knew each other. So, it was perfect.
And since Okita stayed until the end of their meal, they left altogether; Saitou had picked Tokio up and Okita had gone there by train, just so they could all ride in the same car and talk about their next step in a safe place, with no eavesdropping ears.
"Tokio-chan, you're one hell of an actress," Okita exclaimed, once Saitou started driving.
"Comes with the job," she replied, smirking as she shrugged nonchalant.
"That's one thing down," Saitou decided to comment instead, carefully treading away from that conversation. "Next on the list is arranging the move, but most importantly...we need to introduce you to Aiko."
"I can whenever," she made clear right away "depends entirely on you."
"I think tomorrow we'll need to warm Aiko-chan up to the idea of who she's going to meet," Okita opined, hands crossed in front of his chest "so not before Thursday."
She shrugged, leaving it up to them; she wouldn't want to rush him, not for something like this. And it was pretty obvious Okita was a little invested in this whole business, not just for his friend, but for the man's daughter, too—it wouldn't be a stretch to say he had a hand in raising her. She could picture Hajime, exhausted both physically and mentally, calling his best friend and colleague for help; for those things he did not want to admit to his mother he couldn't do, or didn't know how. But with the help of this man, they definitely figured it out: the two of them hunched over a baby, book in their hands about how to raise babies; smiling at the mental image she created, she turned her eyes outside of her window, opting to watch as the city lights became a continuous blur. She always found it relaxing and only god knew how much of that she needed.
"Once I move in, I'll tell my parents, too; I suggest you do before me. Said your folks live across the hall—wouldn't want your mom having a heart attack if she ever knocks on the door and it's me who answers it."
Okita's laugh was boisterous. "Oh boy, I had forgotten about that; your mom's gonna murder you for not telling her anything."
"She'll manage."
"His mother would believe him if even he said he was actually Russian and hid it from them this entire time," his friend clarified to her concerned look and she had to bite her lip not to laugh too much.
Ten minutes later, they had arrived at her apartment complex, where they dropped her off with the assurance they'd call her tomorrow; waving goodbye, she sighed, as she looked up at her balcony from a distance. She'd miss her lifestyle, that was for sure, but it would be worth it...she hoped. Steeling herself for what's about to come, she headed straight forward.
.
When they had estimated her meeting with his daughter would not be before Thursday, she did not expect it to be Thursday afternoon. She was completely unprepared for it, both mentally and physically, since all they had done was tell her, when Aiko is ready, they would call. She didn't think they meant the exact time—she wanted at least a day worth of forewarning. But nope, it didn't come: it was barely four pm when she answered her phone and they let her know they would be meeting in three hours.
At least Okita was out of the picture this once; it would be just the three of them.
She wouldn't have normally minded, but that man made her feel constantly judged; his stare was boring into her, absolute and unforgiving, waiting for the smallest slip-up or indication she was being anything other than honest. But how more honest could she be? She had told them this was all a ploy to get what they want from the very beginning, why was he so irrationally afraid of her? She had no capacity to fool his friend. Maybe she'd have to fool Aiko, but both her and Hajime were prepared for it.
And yet, the closer the time of their meeting came, the jittery she became. What was it with this guilt? She shouldn't be feeling so much like an asshole, she only did what she thought was best for the both, no, all three of them. If it wasn't, her protective father would not have agreed to it. Even if he was so desperate for a solution that he'd willingly try to cheat the law.
Chin up Tokio, she mentally scolded herself; there's no way she would meet with this by all accounts amazing little girl with such a scowl on her face! She was a strong woman and she needed to prove that to herself today, no bad thoughts; only good ones. Right.
Think of it as a necessary evil, fooling this small, sweet, innocent child, her own voice rang in her head, unforgiving and she almost cried. Damn it...
It all quieted down the moment she saw them.
Hajime's car pulled up right next to hers, at the meeting point: the corner of the street right next to the coffee shop with the indoors playground, Aiko's favourite place to go, not only because she could do "grown-up" things, like it on a chair next to her dad, but also because she had friends there at the same she could play with and have her father watch; which was rare.
He got out of the car, securing it, and then opened the door for his daughter; he waited a moment, probably for her to take off her seat-belt and then she watched as he kept his hand extended and a little one took it. Tokio's heart skipped a beat when she saw a bundle of clothes jumping out of the car, patiently waiting for her father to close the door behind her, lock the car and then head for the crossing. Although there were no cars coming, the light was red for the pedestrians so he had both of them wait, despite others crossing it in a hurry. Only once it turned green did he move, Aiko-chan keeping up with him easily. Well, he was accommodating of course, but it was obvious it was practiced—they always did that. It was heart-warming.
It helped none this was one of the coldest days of February, and Aiko was wrapped in a grey scarf all the way to her nose, with a red beret hiding the top of her head. That was so cute, oh god! She had a nice grey coat on, too, with red and black details, all the way to her knees that covered everything and she could have died at the idea that either Aiko-chan picked out this matching outfit or Hajime had to coordinate it for her, it was too adorable. She must have been wearing a dress, Tokio realised, because the closer they came, the clearer her little legs were: all white, most possibly by thick tights, wearing black cute flats on her little feet with a strap.
Aaaaaw...
"Good afternoon," Tokio was the first to speak, the moment they came to stand in front of her. She bent her legs, squatting in front of the girl and looked at her with a wide smile, that was by no means difficult to call upon, looking at this picture. "My name is Tokio. Do you know who I am?"
She nodded. "Daddy told me about you."
Her eyes briefly glanced up at him, only to find his expression neutral, but not guarded at all, looking down at his daughter. She could tell, if Tokio wasn't there, and this was Aiko meeting virtually anyone else, he'd be smiling; she didn't hold it against him. It made sense for him to be cautious.
"And what did daddy say about me?"
"That...you'll be living with us from now on..."
Tokio nodded deeply, urging her to go on, seeing the girl had more to share. Even if only her eyes were visible, she could tell she must have been blushing, because she kept averting them and then bringing them back to her; also, even if it was just her eyes, it was more than enough! They were very expressive, just like her daddy's. She had inherited their shape and colour, too. Heh! She would bet he was very proud of that particular fact—it was a rare colour after all.
"And that, um..." Aiko finally looked up to her father and he too nodded, closing his eyes for a split second, to show her it was perfectly okay for her to keep going. "Daddy asked you to marry him; that's why you'll be living with us."
"That's right! And do you know what that means?" Aiko shook her head, looking away. "Do you know what that makes me to you?" That's when the little girl looked back at her, surprised, curious...maybe a little hopeful? Shit; oh no; her heart was already squeezing at the realisation, why was Aiko so sweet and honest? "That means, once your father and I get married, I will be your step-mom."
Shit; shit, shit. Shit! Look at that expression of pure joy, yet disbelief on that little face—or eyes. And then, she became suddenly sad. "But you aren't married yet..."
"Of course not, we wouldn't want you to miss it!" She discreetly pried the little girl's hand out of Hajime's, who was still holding onto her, and then took the other one, too, in both of hers. "Your father loves you very much; you are the most important person in his life. He would never do something so big without you there...or if you didn't want him to." Aiko wasn't looking away this once, eyes peeled on hers. "You see, this is your first time meeting me. But marrying someone means you're with them forever—or at least, supposedly. He wouldn't want to make you live with me forever if you didn't like me, right?" Aiko nodded vigorously. "So, you have to meet me first! That's why we're here today. Hopefully, you'll like me as much as I already like you." She winked at her, Aiko giggled and Tokio stood up, messing her hair as she let go of one hand; she still held the other. Recognising his cue, Saitou took her other hand and all three together walked inside the coffee shop.
He gave her a loaded look when Aiko started almost skipping; she accurately translated it for what it was: a torn scolding. On one hand, he wanted to thank her for making a good impression; on the other, he wanted to complain for making such a good impression. She wouldn't actually stay and be part of her life, she didn't need to be so convincing about having these intentions. And yet, he couldn't complain, because she really was impeccable. Maybe he'd tell Okita later, he seemed to get it completely.
Tokio shook her head just a little, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. He wasn't wrong but...what should she do? Be indifferent to this cute little creature in front of her? Impossible. Still, the rest of the coffee date went perfectly. Aiko alternated between coming and going to the playground, having found children her age in the pen and one friend—that Hajime recognised as the boy who was defending her at school.
The only difficult spot was one and it came ten minutes before they left: Aiko came running to them, red-faced, grabbing her father's leg, pulling on his fabric. The girl was tall for her age, but Saitou was tall in general, so she didn't reach much higher when he was sitting—barely his knee. "What is it?" he asked immediately, knowing that was a sign of upset and hesitation from his daughter.
"Wh, what do I call...Tokio-san now?" She hid her face in his pants as soon as she asked it, missing the look the two adults shared. "Hori asked me who she was and I...I didn't know what..."
The two adults exchanged looks again; Hajime appeared to be washing his hands of this, giving her absolute freedom to do what she wanted.
"Sweetie," Tokio begun, hand combing through her two pig tails, at the base of her head, "you can call me whatever you like. I bet daddy told you about mommy, yes?" He nodded when saw her eyes snap to him momentarily, to assure her. "He's told you all sorts of things about her, who she was, what she was like...if you don't want to call me that, I don't mind."
After all, struggling to keep the memory of a person alive only through tales and photos was an extremely difficult task, she knew; she barely remembered people she actually met, how much more a child of only five or six years. And she could bet all she ever had, Hajime only spoke of the best of his late wife, with love and melancholy; with obvious yearning; and children were oh, so perceptive. Besides, the girl most possibly didn't want to replace the idea of her mommy Yaso not only out of guilt, so daddy wouldn't be sad, but also because that was the only mother she ever had. She would feel bad if she believed she involuntarily was trying to replace her. And yet, her eagerness to have a real mother in her life was too apparent.
"But I do want you to know I am here for you no matter what; if you want to call me Tokio-chan, that's fine; but if you do want to call me mommy, or something like that, that's perfectly fine, too. You decide."
For a long, eternal moment, she said nothing; then, as if seeking permission, she looked up at her father. He picked her up, planted a kiss on her forehead, balancing her on his leg. "You do whatever you want," he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice "it's your choice."
"Then...wh...what if I call you Tokaa-san? As in, Tokio but okaa-san..."
"Hmmm..." Tokio theatrically tapped her chin, lips pursed. "It sounds catchy. I like it."
The way Aiko beamed up at her made her heart swell; and when she all but jumped off of her father's leg and made a run for Hori, she could have squealed! But in a rare display of emotion, Hajime almost said something, but decided against it, looking happy yet miserable.
Amazing.
"Thank you; but please don't be so good with her."
She wanted to feel offended, honestly, but she just couldn't bring herself to see this solely from her perspective; that's what she got for being empathetic. "...I can't help it."
A deep sigh escaped him. "I know." His eyes only followed Aiko, playing, socialising. There was something there she didn't understand and even if it did make sense for her not to get him completely, she felt unsatisfied. "I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. Just don't...let her become too dependent on you."
She gave him a look, eyebrows raised. How, it communicated in a dry, annoyed way. Their deal was that she was going to work from home the entire time she'd be staying with them, with only few exceptions, for things she couldn't do remotely. How was Tokio supposed to care and provide for little Aiko without her getting dependent? It was virtually impossible. He was right, he was being very selfish.
Her ire flickered in her eyes; but when his sole response to that was to shy, defeated, mentally exhausted, she felt hopeless. If he already knew and he still said it, what was she supposed to do? She couldn't argue with him here, even if her glare spoke volumes.
"I don't know," he admitted, shrugging. "I just don't want to see her too hurt."
"First of all, we shouldn't be having this conversation here, in public," she almost barked the second part "and secondly, I am not going to hurt her; I like children. And she's adorable, what's there not to love? You're just nervous because this is her first time meeting any woman other than relatives. So, put your thoughts in order and take care of what you say."
The "we'll talk about this when we get home" stare he was receiving, almost took him aback...and back to the days he was still married and he'd done something ridiculously stupid; Yaso would be visibly upset, but she had decided not to make a scene. Instead, she gave him that same, unrivaled glare and then utter the feared sentence "we'll deal with this later" or some other variation. It wasn't feared from the first time he heard it, though; but it was the second. Tokio had said he was a fast learner—she had no idea. So, when he saw that directed at him after such a long time, he felt adequately berated.
"Right," he could only say, slightly concerned "sorry; I will." He looked to the side, slightly concerned. He had heard her argue and fight with people; if that's what was waiting for him, he started regretting his choice of place and conversation fast. "Want me to get you another chamomile?"
Her smile was cold; he became apprehensive. "Yes, please," she decided to spare him a little, voice softening a notch; just the one.
Without hesitation, he stood from his chair and went to the bar, not bothering to flag down their waitress. Shaking her head, a tiny bit of guilt starting to rise to her mouth with its bitter taste a little too familiar, she uncrossed her arms that hadn't realised when she had crossed them on the first place, and released the tension from her shoulders. She watched him go through the motions of ordering; then he waited; when her beverage was ready, he picked it up and returned to their table...without looking back at her once. That helped calm her, too and by the time he placed the chamomile in front of her, his weight thrown back on the seat next to her, she found it within her to smile.
"Thank you Hajime."
"I told them to make it like you asked for it before."
Her smile became wider. "Thank you Hajime."
Only then did he realise what she'd said the first time. "...you're welcome."
After that, conversation dwindled. Not that they spoke much anyway—they both were focused on the little girl, playing, laughing, hopping and tumbling with her friends. It was...relaxing, she decided, doing that. It took the edge off from other things. She had a thousand things on her mind that day, but she couldn't remember any of them, for those twenty minutes.
And then, it was time to go.
"You can go tell her," Saitou allowed, an answer to her pleading look.
Thrilled, Tokio stood from her chair and headed to the playpen. To be honest, he sort of did it as a humbling, or at least make her life a little difficult with what she pulled earlier: Aiko never wanted to leave this place. If it was up to her, they'd be going home only when the people who worked here decided it was time to close. She'd complain, whine, and on two memorable occasions, actually hid in the plastic fortress so he couldn't reach her. Dipping in his chair, he waited to see his daughter—...utterly betray him.
The moment Tokio's head appeared and her lips moved, Aiko pouted but otherwise made no attempt, verbal or physical, to protest her directive. In fact, she simply waved goodbye to all of the children there, hugged her friend Hori – why was she hugging this boy – and just rushed to her. He blinked. Why did his own offspring betray him so? She even took Tokio's hand and came like that all the way to their table.
"Let's get you all bundled up now," Tokio immediately said, reaching for her scarf and coat "you played too hard, you must be covered in sweat. We don't want you catching a cold, right?"
Wordlessly, she nodded many times; Tokio smiled at her widely and pinched her nose. Aiko giggled. Hajime watched as the two of them interacted with increasing alarm yet relief. When Tokio took the oversized scarf to wrap around his daughter, the girl, instead of being stationary and let the woman put it around her, she grabbed one end and spun around until it was all spent; then, as if knowing she would do that, Tokio simply secured it, put the other end in one of the layers, and made sure it was snugly. After that, she held out the coat and Aiko extended her arms, not as she usually did, but behind her, so both sleeves could come on at once. Then, the little girl twirled around with flair and Tokio buttoned up the coat, gracing her with small smiles and short giggles. When she was all but ready, Tokio put the beret on her head, tilted it to one side. She watched her handiwork with pride.
"There; all set. You're ready."
"Do I look good?"
"You look great; just as you did when you came."
Aiko giggled again, but colour rose to her cheeks all the same. "Thank you."
The adults put on their coats, too and all three of them, one hand each, left the coffee shop – where Saitou could already see at least three mothers talk between themselves in excited hushed tones; to think their plan was working so well, amazing – and headed straight for the cars.
"Say goodbye to Tokio now, little plum; we're going home."
And yet, instead of a hug or a request for a kiss, all Aiko did was look up shocked, from her dad to Tokio. "What do you mean? She's not coming with us?"
Ah, there was the problem. "Not yet, sweetie."
"But you said you'd be living with us if I liked you!"
"Yes—"
"I like you! Daddy, I like her; why can't she come?"
"She has to move her things with her but she has a lot of things; so, now that you do like her, she can start packing. But that will take a while, maybe a week..." Just as she had started listening, the moment the word week was spoken, she welled up.
"How about Saturday," Tokio rushed to suggest, stopping Aiko's tears before they fully formed "when you won't have school and we can be altogether?"
"Yes, Saturday, Saturday; so we can all go out on Sunday to celebrate."
"Sounds perfect; where do you want to go?"
"It's daddy's birthday on Sunday, so he decides!"
Tokio blinked, trying not to show her surprise too much; she then turned to Saitou, eyebrows raised, small smirk forming. He tried to roll his eyes as discreetly as possible. "Daddy doesn't like going out for his birthday, remember?"
"Nonsense," Tokio cut him off, before even looking at the utter disappointment plastered on his daughter's face "it's your birthday and this will be the first time we'll be spending it altogether—not to mention I'll just have moved in. We're going out. You two decide where you want to go, and I'll take you out."
"Yes daddy, please! Please, please, please let's all go out, please...!"
He sighed; just by that, Aiko cheered. She knew she had won. "It's two against one," he relented. Aiko hugged him – his legs, anyhow – for good measure. And then, she let go of him and hugged Tokio's legs, too, tightly.
"Goodbye, Tokaa-san," they heard her mumble and after a radiant smile up to the woman, she let go.
"Bye bye, Aiko-chan," she waved at her as Saitou unlocked the car and the little girl ran to the left, back door. He opened it for her and she jumped in readily, actually putting her seat belt on all by herself. Shaking her head amused, once Saitou closed the door, she went to him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered "I'll call you tonight; don't think I forgot." A sly smile later, she bid him goodbye, too and went to her own car.
Saitou's latest sigh was even more impressive than the last one. Defeated, he got into his car, checked his daughter was strapped in tight, and drove away.
.
.
The next time he saw her in person was on Saturday. Naturally, that wasn't the next time he heard her, too—she had indeed called him that Thursday night and, as expected, she gave him a real piece of her mind. She was talking all on her own, without stopping for a breath or his opinion for about ten minutes during which he could only nod or, if he became verbal, apologise. Then she stopped and it sounded like she deflated, that much she sighed. Then, she kindly informed him she arranged the move and all of her clothes and a few choice belongings would be coming with her, so he'd better make room in his closet.
Maybe buy a new one, he actually teased, knowing she must have had three times the clothes, shoes and accessories he had and it earned him a laugh so he felt accomplished.
Then, on Friday, she called again to let him know that they'd be coming over around ten in the morning the next day; he let her know that that was a good time for them, so the date was set. Thus, currently three to ten in the morning, a red moving track with its logo on either side, was pulling up right outside his apartment complex. It wasn't the biggest he'd ever seen...but it wasn't the smallest either. She said only clothes and a few choice belongings, what was up with that?
Right behind it, she saw her car, parking in a spot. When she got out, dressed surprisingly sporty, she spotted him immediately and made a line for him.
"Good morning Hajime," she saluted, looking all kinds of refreshed "how have you been? How's Aiko-chan?"
"We're both fine," he got over the pleasantries while barely looking at her; instead, his focus was on that truck "though I doubt we'll be able to live in our house anymore—your things will knock us out."
She chuckled. "Breathe; there are mostly clothes in there. It's just that some can't be folded to fit in cases or boxes, like the shoes and the bags, so we had to hang them. That's why it looks like that."
"...thank god."
"The only bulky items I took from my apartment are my favourite chair, my lamp, a full-body foldable mirror and a three-by-one cabinet I put all of my work and personal papers—those were the only furniture I bought; all the rest came with the house."
"That's actually pretty manageable."
"Oh, that and my bed; mattress and all." To his obvious surprise, she clicked her tongue. "No woman wants to sleep with her future husband in the same bed he slept with his late wife."
Just as he was about to be offended, he thought about it; yeah, alright, she had a point.
"Wait, I was right?" His eyes became smaller, suspicious. "You still have the—...Hajime, it's been six years; no woman wants to sleep in...you honestly tell me you haven't tried moving on? All these years?"
He shrugged. "I mean, I bet you've had casual relationships, but you haven't tried to get your life back together since?" He shrugged again. "Hajime, I know, I mean, I don't know what it must feel like, but I don't think you should torture yourself like that; I am sure, Yaso wouldn't want you to be miserable. And she definitely would have wanted her daughter to have a mother, even if it isn't her."
"Tokio—"
"I'm sorry," she immediately put her hands up, taking a step back "it's not my place. And I meant no offense. It's not my business, forgive me."
"That's fine," was all he said, a little satisfied she seemed to understand she overstepped "but what are we going to do with my bed?"
"We can put it in my apartment or in storage. Oh!" She chuckled. "I told dad I'll be moving in with you, he freaked out." She actually laughed now. "He had noticed the ring and said nothing but after that he could no longer hold his tongue and, oh boy, he had a lot to say." She shook her head amused, as if her father's plight was something entertaining. "So, he knows about us; he knows nothing about you though, I didn't say. But, he insisted on keeping the apartment, so he's basically going to keep paying rent on it, so even if we put your bed there, you won't lose it. He said if he decided to stop paying, he'll tell me in advance, in case I want to take anything out. Bottom mind is, he reacted just as I expected; so did mum. Those are good things."
He snorted. "I told my parents, too; mother wasn't too happy. But she did agree to be open-minded about this and go into your meeting without prejudice. Father on the other hand...he's suspicious of your intentions, I believe. We'll see. He did agree to the same thing with mum though."
"Awww."
"Which meeting is today; once the move is over, they're coming."
"I'm guessing they have Aiko for now?" He nodded. "Then why don't we go to there instead, when all is over? After all, once everything is inside, they'll still need to be put in their places and that'll take too long. It's better if we go to your mother for some tea, have a break and then take Aiko-chan with us and move everything around. It'll be fun! She can help, too and it's better to make her feel included."
"Tokio," he deadpanned, going close enough so that only she could hear him "you keep forgetting we want her to like you, but not too much. You aren't staying in the long run; and she's not your niece."
Her blood boiled in seconds; now he had to take a step back from the ferocity of her cold, frigid threatening smile. "I'll only say this once and you better get it into your head:" even is she was whispering, actually whispering, he could hear her loud and clear, as if she was screaming "I am not going to half-ass this. It needs to look real; and your daughter needs to interact with a woman. Whether you had one actual girlfriend, or two or four, it's obvious she never met them. She's had no mother figure in her life. Let her have her fun and stop worrying so much. If you tell me anything of the sort again, I will attack you. I swear. Are we clear, sweetie?"
She said the last part in a normal voice, just as one of the movers was passing right by them, but even he felt the icicles dripping from her tone and chose to pick up his pace, unwilling to be caught between a lover's spat.
"We are," he numbly retorted "crystal." She inclined her head. "At least I can complain to Okita about it."
"As much as you want," she assured, patting his shoulder. "And now, let's get to work! Why don't you help them with the heavy stuff? I'll start transferring the clothes on the hangers first."
Nodding, without a word or sound escaping him, he dutifully did as he was told. With their help though, things moved faster indeed; they blinked and all of her things were accounted for safely inside his home. Even his bed was disassembled fast and was taken out in fifteen minutes. That's why they were pros! He easily remembered when he and Yaso moved into this place and he had refused to hire movers, other than their truck, because how hard can it be? Apparently, quite; and of course, it was too time consuming. But now, boom, done in an hour. He decided not to skimp out on such things in the future.
"Alright!" she clapped her hands once. "All of my hanged clothes are in your closet and everything else is safely inside; I think we are good to go meet your mom! What's her name again?"
"Her name is Masu and she prefers being referred to with that."
"Perfect! Let's go meet Masu-san."
"She'll like that," he thoughtfully said "call her that."
Preening like a peacock, she put on her sneakers and walked across the hall, in Hajime's company. Once actually standing out her front door, he urged her to ring the bell, which she did, with confidence. Maybe it was because they weren't going to be her real in-laws, but she was incredibly upbeat and nerves-free; he could tell she was nervous when meeting Aiko-chan but now, nothing. Well, if Aiko didn't like her, it would put a temporary hold on their plans until they figured something out; if his mother doesn't like her, tough; but he had a feeling it was more than that. He didn't think of her as that cold.
When the door opened, a mere moment later, he saw his mother stand at the threshold; despite all she said, she was guarded. Both him and Tokio could tell, just by her body language. And yet, that deterred her none; with a wide smile, Tokio took a deep bow and spoke first.
"Hello; you must be Masu-san. I am Takagi Tokio, very pleased to meet you." Her upbeat tone and complete lack of holding back made the woman lose her train of thought.
"Hello; please, come inside, you must be tired."
"Thank you madam."
She stood to the side to let them in; when Saitou passed next to her, his mother almost asked him what was up, but in the end refrained from speaking, just gave him a look. He shrugged, a little arrogant. When she took off her shoes right at the door, next to the ones already there, his mother felt like being a little nicer. When she waited for Hajime to do the same and only after he walked in front of her did she follow inside, Masu perked up.
"You have a lovely home, Masu-san; it looks very...warm. Did you always live here?"
She nodded. "Ever since Katsu was born, three years before Hajime."
"Aww, you grew up here!" Masu didn't miss the way Tokio squeezed his hand momentarily. "But where's Aiko-chan?"
"Bathroom; she's coming."
It was a man who said that, coming from the hall, into the living room. That was his father, no doubt about it. He might have had his mother's colours, but he was a spitting image of his father—all but the height. Apparently, that was just him, as both parents were close to the national average.
"Hello sir."
"Why hello to you, too, young lady; Tokio was it?" She bowed. "To think we finally get to meet you..."
Her smile was guilty. "Please, forgive me."
"You? It's my son I'm angry with."
"Don't be; I asked him to tell no one. I'm a little...paranoid."
"Huh." The two older people looked at one another. "That's a first."
She chuckled. "My parents, my job...it's all a little overwhelming. But I try." Her smile became bright. "Admittedly, if I knew of his intentions from the beginning I would have been a little lenient."
His mother smacked him; his father laughed. "It's a great quality in a woman," he said through his mirth "admitting to her mistakes—make sure you don't lose it after marriage."
It was his turn to be struck by his wife, as Tokio actually laughed along with him and Saitou simply shook his head to their antics.
Just then, they watched as Aiko-chan came bounding into the room, running straight for Tokio; without warning, she crushed into her and wrapped her hands around her middle, or as far up as she could go. "Tokaa-san, welcome! Did you move in yet?"
"All things are inside the house," she started and Aiko-chan only squeezed harder as a "Yay~!" left her lips, but Tokio wasn't finished "and your dad and I decided to wait until you're home to put everything in its place; thought it'd be a nice activity for the day."
The little girl nodded furiously, cheeks turning rose, but there was no sign of shame on her face. It must have been the excitement.
"But first, you will stay for a cup of tea, yes? Hajime mentioned you have a preference for chamomile."
"I do; and we will, certainly."
"Hello daddy," Aiko said then, finally untangling herself from Tokio's hug; she didn't move to hug him though, just waved. Hajime gave Tokio a look; she tried not to smile.
Shaking his head, he turned to Aiko. "Did you have breakfast?"
"My son," his mother complained, all drama in her voice "my own son and he doesn't trust me with feeding his daughter! I raised you, didn't I? And both of your siblings before you? None of you starved to death. And..."
"You had to ask that, didn't you?" his father sighed, shaking his head, while his mother still waxed from the kitchen as they all moved to sit in the living room.
Aiko dragged Tokio to the big couch, forced her to sit against the arm as she wedged herself between Tokio and her dad, who naturally came to sit next to her. Thus, the next couple of hours passed with idle conversation and late introductions full of teasing, jokes and mumbled complaints. By the time they left, his parents had warmed up to the idea of their son getting married to a stranger to them, seeing said stranger was highly charismatic and, by all appearances, innocuous.
"Come over for dinner tomorrow," his mother suggested when they were at the door "for his birthday! Your house is still a mess, it'd be too much to expect you cook for us."
"No, granny, we can't! Daddy promised to take us out."
"What she means is," Tokio said through chuckles – amused by the fact Saitou was glaring daggers at his daughter – "I suggested we go out to celebrate my moving in and his birthday at the same time and he agreed."
"Oh, that sounds fun; we wouldn't want to impose."
"Honey, don't say it like that," her husband scolded her, seeing she was playing the pity card "the woman will feel bad;" he turned to Tokio "don't mind her, go out and have fun. Just make sure to come by for a drink once you're done."
"Of course; you'll have to give daddy his present, too."
"I'm a little too old for that," he commented amused, thankful to his father "but we'll be sure to come."
"Call Sou-chan over, too," his mother suggested readily "I haven't seen him for a long time."
"I will, mother; bye."
"It was nice meeting you," Tokio bowed for a final time "goodbye for now."
"Buh bye~!"
Aiko waved them away and they walked in silence back to their apartment, both adults feeling his parents' eyes on them the entire time it took them to get to the door, open it and close it again. A small sigh escaped Tokio the moment they were out of sight.
"Go wash your hands; I'm coming in a second, so you can show me around the house, yes?"
"Yes!"
The girl skipped all the way to the bathroom. "No running around the house," Saitou reminded just as she disappeared behind the door.
"That was exhausting," she whispered the moment Aiko was out of sight, sagging under the weight of the day. "But your parents were nice!"
"They liked you, that's why; I've never seen dad joke in front of a stranger before." She straightened at the sound of that, fatigue suddenly gone. "You made a good impression." She beamed. "Stop smiling, idiot," he teased, shaking his head but, naturally, she didn't.
"Why? It's a good thing! I liked them, too actually; I think your mom's my favourite. Oh, such drama when you asked if Aiko-chan had breakfast." She chuckled. "And the way she sneakily tried to invite herself in the end—props to that. If I wasn't so used to these underhanded techniques, I might've fallen for it."
By that time, Aiko had come back, soundlessly, and simply stood there, listening to them, but neither adult had paid any attention to her.
"She's your favourite, because you're the same."
This once, she did laugh; her head thrown back, she vibrated with her joy. "Right? But your dad's very cool, too; I can see where you take it from."
"Oh? Did you just call me cool?"
Her lips pursed at his arrogant tone, eyebrows high. "I might've..."
That's when both adults became aware of the girl's presence; her cute little giggle attracted their attention and both seemed surprised to find her there. "Daddy's very cool" she announced then "always. My friends think so, too!"
That was so adorable, oh god.
"Tokaa-san, come, come! I want to show you my room!"
The tour to the house started from there; it took them a while to leave, as Aiko was too excited and wanted to show her everything—every little thing, while at the same time Tokio was trying to memorize where everything went, so they ended up spending a lot of time in there. It was a big room to begin with! Well, it made sense; if they came to this apartment with the idea they were starting a family, maybe one child wasn't what they had in mind—this could easily accommodate two and there was a spare bedroom, too.
Huh; interesting tidbit. Maybe she should ask him later.
The spare bedroom was the one furthest inside the house and their second stop; it was used as a guestroom, as she could see, but there was a closet in there, too...that was also interesting. Maybe she found out where she was going to put all of her shoes and the clothes that didn't fit inside the other closet.
On the right side of the hall, was Saitou's bedroom—also, quite the spacious room. Then it was Aiko's on the left and the first door on the right was the bathroom. It had everything. Huh; this was a big house. He might have joked about how she would be downgrading, going from her penthouse to this, but this wasn't all that small either, especially since the only other apartment on this floor was his parents'—and that looked like it was identical to this one, only the hall was to the right, once you entered the house, and not the left. But both had a spacious joined living room-kitchen that was only separated by a wooden bar-like structure.
It was very cozy; she liked it.
"Tokaa-san, what's this?"
She pointed to the cabinet. "That's where I keep all of my files and papers."
"Oh! Dad has one like it for his cases! But I'm not allowed to look inside."
"Daddy's cases aren't suitable for small children," Tokio was absolute about it, too, because Aiko had sounded a little pouty when she'd said it "his job is catching bad people; you don't want to see what bad people do; and you don't have to."
"That's what daddy says, too," she mumbled, unconvinced.
Something told her she still wanted to look; and if left unattended, at some point she'd definitely find a way to get into it, despite her father's glares and strict looks behind Tokio's back. "Do you know how daddy and I met?"
"No!" she admitted excited, bouncing on her feet to hear the story.
"About a year and a half ago, someone did something very bad: one of my good friends, one that I knew since I was your age, was killed." Saitou had his misgivings about this, she could feel his anxiety behind her, but since he didn't jump in to stop her, she felt confident she did the right thing and kept talking. "He didn't die by some tragedy, someone else did it. And that's horrible, isn't it?"
Aiko, a little scared, nodded repeatedly. "Exactly; that's unforgivable. But those bad, bad people don't admit to what they did, because they know they will go to prison or worse; the detectives have to find them on their own. And that's what daddy does, that's how we met. He took the case of my friend and we met while he was making questions."
"Oh..."
"And you wouldn't want to read about sad, horrible things like that, would you?" she shook her head no. "Exactly. So, stay out of daddy's cabinet, it's not good for children."
"Okay."
"Now, forget all about that! Do you want to see my shoes?" Thankfully, much like all children, her attention span was short; she forgot all about the murders in a second. "Let's go inspect them and find some place for them to go."
Saturday was a tiring day, for both. Not only did they have to be on their best behaviour around the girl, not only did they have to act, they had to go with her every whim. They ended up changing and moving things around three times. Other than the bed, which simply replaced the old one – and was far better than the previous, according to Aiko-chan who bounced on it at least ten times – the clothes, the shoes and the furniture kept going from one place to the other. In the end, they settled for the formation Tokio had suggested at the very beginning. At least it was fun.
Seeing that took them all day, since they had to take a break to cook then eat and then recommence their decorations, by the time they finished cleaning up everything, it was eleven. Aiko, who always went to bed a little late on Friday and Saturday, stayed with them until then, actually helped with putting things in their place and then off to bed...
"Will you tuck me in, Tokaa-san?" she asked, looking away, head lowered.
"Of course I will; go change, wash your face, brush your teeth and I'll be right there."
Beaming, she ran off to her room; at the same time, Tokio collapsed on the couch. "I am...exhausted," she spoke softly, but entirely too tired.
"Welcome to the Saitou household," he simply stated, completely unaffected by the craziness of the entire day and simply headed to the now clean kitchen table. She watched as he sat in the third chair with practiced ease, not even looking when pulling it; then, from beneath the heavy wooden table, he produced a leather briefcase. From within it, he pulled a paper file folder, one that resembled a little too much those they have at precincts. He made himself comfortable then and pulled out the papers; he started reading.
"What is that?"
"My ongoing case," he replied without really thinking about it, already focused on the words formed on those pages.
"Thought you didn't have to work today."
"I didn't have to go to work; and I didn't. But he ain't gonna catch himself, you said it yourself." He shrugged, thumbing the next page. "I always bring home work; it's just that I won't be going to the actual precinct the entire weekend, so I took a copy of the entire thing with me."
"Is that allowed?"
His eyes turned up at her, even as he remained hunched over the documents; his stare was formidable. She put her hands up, defensively; only then did he look back to his case. Just then, Aiko-chan emerged from the bathroom in triumph. "I am ready!" she announced and skipped off to bed.
Tokio chuckled. "I better go tuck her in; what's your routine?"
His mind stopped processing the written words, even if his eyes looked at them and he appeared no different from before. On one hand, he selfishly did not want to reveal that to her, for it would feel like she completely infiltrated their life; on the other, if she did something he usually didn't and she liked it a little too much, then maybe she'd get used to it and it'd be hard to devote too much time to her each and every night. Then again, tonight was special...but just the thought he would have to tell her what he did when he tucked her in on special occasions tasted even more bitter.
But that wasn't fair to her, he knew.
"Do whatever you want," he opted to answer with, in the end, struggling to sound as devil-may-care as possible.
It worked because she simply smiled and went on her way. He didn't see her again for half an hour; when he realised it was that long, he actually stared at her, question evident. Tokio averted her eyes, trying to look as innocuous as possible. "She wanted me there until she fell asleep." A pause. "I couldn't say no."
"Ah," he went back to his papers, "she gave you the look."
"She did," Tokio admitted in a drawl, pouting "it was so adorable and so vulnerable—how could I not?"
He nodded, agreeing; that look of hers was unrelenting and, so far, the reigning champion. He was surprised to hear the chair next to him being pulled and he was even more surprised to catch her figure in his peripheral vision. "How can you say no?"
"Can't," he was utterly honest "but that's her secret weapon, so she doesn't use it often."
"Bless..." She put her elbows on the table next to him, supporting her head on her knuckles. "So, what do we do now?"
His eyes slid to her. "I'm working."
"Do you mind if I watch a movie?"
"...knock yourself out."
"Do you want me to use headphones?"
"I don't mind the noise; and how are you going to use headphones on a TV set?"
"I was thinking more in the lines of my laptop..."
"Do whatever you want."
"Okay; want some coffee?"
"...yes, actually; I take it black."
"I don't drink coffee, actually;" he looked up at her, curious "if anyone ever asks."
"No, I get why you'd tell me that, but...you don't drink coffee?" She nodded. "How do you function?"
Shaking her head, she stood and went to the cupboards, looking for what she needed. "Go back to your papers, detective..."
She decided to be as less annoying as possible and went for her laptop in the end; after she too changed her clothes, she poured the coffee for him and brewed her chamomile. As an after-though, she rummaged the cupboards again, in search of snacks; she found some chips. Then, she promptly made herself comfortable on the large sofa, and watched her movie.
Once the movie ended, around one am, she looked back, only to find Hajime just as absorbed as she had left him, pouring over his case diligently. She raised an eyebrow. Putting her things away, she stood, stretching. Discreetly, she made her way to him.
"Movie's over; are you about done?" His snort was her answer; that came as a surprise. Instinctively, her eyes went to the coffee pot she had made for him, only to see it was all consumed "Do you have long ways to go?"
"This isn't homework Takagi," he snubbed, never looking up from his case files "nor some stock-market exchange I have to see to the end to make sure it's beneficial."
"Then you're never done." His "now you get it" head movement irritated her. "So then when do you stop?"
"When I can no longer keep my eyes open."
"...I see." And people called her a workaholic. "Well, I'm tired; if there's nothing you want me for, I'll be heading off to bed now."
He nodded, absent minded, as if she wasn't really there. She suppressed the urge to click her tongue. How was it that something could make her both irritated and at the same time sympathetic? Only two thoughts went through her mind that moment: what an asshole and poor guy; first was because obviously, he was being a little bit of a dick. The second because he was so used to this, he did it on the regular—that's gotta be self-inflicted torture. She sighed.
"Do you want me to make some more coffee before I turn in?"
"...yes, please."
"And since we need to talk about tomorrow anyway, how about you have a small snack-break and we discuss where we go for lunch and what do we do for breakfast?"
He seemed annoyed she was taking up his time, at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He was kind of hungry; and they did have leftovers. He put his papers back into the folder and aside, as he nodded to her, visibly tired himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, as she went through the motions for a fresh batch of coffee and then took out a plate and put some food in it from the pan in the fridge. She put it in the microwave oven and waited until it dinged. She put the plate in front of him, a knife and a glass of water. She poured one for herself, too and only then did she sit down, but this once, she opted for the chair facing him.
"You don't have to go to work tomorrow from what I gather." He nodded. "So you can wake up whenever you want."
"We wake up around nine on Sundays; well, Aiko does. I'm usually up around eight."
"Yes, but tomorrow is your birthday, right? It's going to be a special day. Why don't we wake up whenever, no alarm clocks and all that, and as soon as we do, we go for a walk? Grab something from a bakery for breakfast; then we go have lunch somewhere nice and come back home. By that time we've already called Souji and once he arrives, we all go over to your parents."
"...sounds like a plan." He said that too tired, between bites, causing her to look at him funny. "You've put a lot more thought into this than I ever do."
"So this is what we do?" He nodded. "But not what you usually do on your birthdays."
"I promised to take you out and I will." Absolute, not a shred of hesitation. "But I don't usually celebrate birthdays, not like that; not since..." He held his tongue. "My mother makes us dinner, Okita and I go for a drink, end of story."
"Oh." She looked away. "If you want to—"
"I promised," he repeated, authoritative. "And this is actually very good," he finished, looking at the plate surprised. He had thought so before, when he first had it but he didn't know if it was his hunger or his taste-buds speaking. Now he knew.
"Thanks," she said after a snort "goodnight detective. I'm off to bed."
"Goodnight."
"Don't be too late, alright? It's not healthy..."
He decided to contain himself to rolling his eyes; an argument in the middle of the night was not what he was aiming for and certainly not while he was still working. But telling her to mind her own goddamn business or how she had absolutely no right to say that, would do just that: create an argument out of thin air; she was too confrontational about anything less, even if he was right or she was wrong. He merely watched with the edge of his eyes as she disappeared in the hallway; he turned his eyes back to the papers but didn't focus again until he heard the bedroom door open; after that he paid no attention to the sounds of her opening the door again, going to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and going back to sleep. No, he didn't, not at all; they were just background noises. Simple noise...
At least, after that, he didn't see her emerge again. She must have fallen asleep.
And she had; but at some time in the night, she woke up. Bleary-eyed, a little bothered at the though, she looked to her left...where there was no one. She looked at her watch; it read twenty past three. That was odd. She blinked, trying to ascertain he didn't fell off the bed and that wasn't what woke her, only to find she was completely alone in the room. A little alarmed, she got up and allowed her feet to take her where her instincts indicated before her brain registered.
Ah; there he was. Hands around the files on the kitchen table, head lying flat against it, he was sleeping on the chair.
What an idiot. Sleeping like that is definitely very bad for your back, as well as he could easily catch a cold! It was still quite chilly, what was he thinking? She had half a mind to go shake him into waking, but she was almost convinced instead of following her, he'd just make more coffee, drink it, and get back to work. Finally making up her mind, she went back to the bedroom, found an extra blanket and put it over his shoulders. Maybe that would keep him warm.
Shaking her head a final time, she retreated to the bed, but she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. Kind of a rough start...hopefully, it'd get better.
A/N: Second part done and finished! If any of you think she's a little callous, well yeah. She is. It's a conscious choice. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed my lovelies. See you next chapter.
Love,
FAI~!