A/N: Hey hey hey! How are you lovely people of the internet? Are you healthy? Are you well? Are your loved ones? Here in Greece there's a quarantine. This COVID-19 business is making everything difficult. And, as an extra fuck you I guess, supermarkets, where I happen to work at, will be open two additional hours per day. Fan freaking tastic. But I know it's needed; only supermarkets, mini markets and pharmacies will be open. Oh! And pet shops, gas stations, as well as any shops that produce but not have tables for people to sit. Ah, it's a mess. But it's a world-wide thing, too. So, normally, I wouldn't have a second to spare, but, seeing I'm on a leave - I had it programmed for months - I do have, for now. So I'm writing, and getting it out there, otherwise, I fear I'll take over another month.

So, we pick up right where we left off! I hope you like this chapter, it has a special place in my heart, I must admit. Beta'd by Error205; we finally found time and coordinated our schedules. Love you all and hope you enjoy your reading.

Title: Fake it till you make it
Genre:Romance, humour, slice of life, child care(kind of)
AU: Fake Marriage, Modernday

He hadn't had such a good night's sleep in ages!

Before he fully woke up even, he could feel his batteries charged, his body not aching. Well, his head did—raging headache in fact, but the rest of him was tip-top condition. He even felt happy, there was something very familiar about the weight that lay on top of him haphazardly, breathing in and out. This all savoured of coziness and relaxation; something he hadn't felt for a long time.

Then, his eyes fluttered open, only to be treated by a shock of hair, tangling themselves in his face, up his nostrils and between his neck and chin. Then the weight on his chest registered; focusing in on the perpetrator, he smiled.

"Good morning, little plum," he murmured, still sleepy but in a decidedly great mood.

The sun was bright, bathing him in its light with the rays that escaped the curtain; his daughter was sleeping across his chest, slowly waking up with him, like a lazy Sunday morning...

Only it was Saturday.

The headache was because of all the alcohol he had consumed the night before and he never got to see his daughter before going to sleep because he was shitfaced. Ah, just like that, panic set in and his brain went into overdrive. The peace only lasted two minutes. What happened, why was Aiko there, where was Tokio and what did he have to face the moment he walked out that door?

"Good morning daddy," Aiko rolled down and next to him.

"How did you get in here?"

"Kaa-san let me in! I left my room to go the bathroom and she saw me walking out; said I should keep you company because she couldn't sleep anymore and she'll make us breakfast!"

It took him a very long moment to process that. He blinked once, during, looking at his daughter almost taken aback. Then, he mentally snorted. So that was how long it took Aiko to abbreviate "Tokaa-san" to "kaa-san"; eight days. How pathetic of him, to deprive his daughter of a mother-figure for so long, she grew attached to this one in record time.

"How long ago was that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know; the sun was up...but not as much as now."

Oh no; oh no. How long had she been up, planning this encounter? He'd definitely hear it...! Still, that train of thought disappeared soon enough, as he felt Aiko rub her head on his chest appreciatively. She hadn't been like this with him, for a long time; he'd missed it. A small smile graced his lips as he kissed the top of her head. She hugged him.

"Five more minutes," he said then and she immediately knew what he was referring to for she nodded her head like crazy "and then we go greet Tokio."

"Yes! Kaa-san is making us breakfast, too! We should thank her."

"Yeah...we should."

Deciding to enjoy these five minutes without guilt or any intrusive thoughts, he just closed his eyes and hugged his daughter tight; when the five minutes were up, he stood first and urged her to follow. She, of course, did not want to rise, so he had to carry her outside, because why not? Even if he knew he was going to face a storm coming out, probably, he was still in a great mood. Bracing himself, a big drawn breath, he opened the bedroom door, and walked the hall confidently, heading for the kitchen.

Before he ever reached it, he heard Tokio's voice, but no one else's, first indication she was talking on the phone; next was how, when he saw her, standing over the sink, washing dishes and pots, she had her shoulder support her cell phone close to her ear.

"Of course," he focused on her voice and could finally make out what it was she said "I'll come over once Hajime is awake. No, I can't just leave, you idiot."

The mention of her father's name seemed to wake the little girl up completely because now she bounced and vibrated in his arms, flailing, wanting to break free. It didn't take long for him to put her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, not to drop her, Aiko to giggle and scream out in excitement as well as for them to emerge from the hall. Due to the commotion, Tokio turned around, a brilliant smile immediately forming upon noticing them.

"Good morning, sleepyheads! Yeah," she turned back to whoever it was she was speaking to "he just woke up; get ready. Bye."

She let the phone slip from where it was wedged between shoulder and ear and caught it just as she'd finished wiping down her hands on a towel. She had already changed out of her nightgown and was wearing a simple pair of jeans, with a nice blouse underneath a long apron. No make up, no elaborate hair-dos, just a messy bun at the bottom of her head.

And who was she speaking to?

"How was your sleep?"

"Apparently, eternal," Saitou commented once he saw the clock on the wall read thirty five past ten. "Why did you let me sleep for so long?"

In the meantime, he had given Aiko over to Tokio, seeing the girl was reaching out for a hug from the woman and Tokio had been willing to oblige, even if she did put her down immediately after the hug.

"You needed it, detective; and I bet you two hadn't slept together like that for a long time, yes?" She winked at Aiko. "You need to be able to enjoy the little things in life."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Aiko chorused, skipping around her.

"Besides, you wouldn't wake;" she leaned in "you drunk a little too much," she whispered and he turned a shade darker, despite the light-hearted tone she used and the chuckle that followed. "Now," she decided to change the topic, evident from her boisterous voice and the fact she went for the knot of the apron at her back "I cooked both of you a nice, hearty breakfast; something on the sweet side for Aiko-chan, something on the greasy side for daddy. Daddy needs the fats."

He rolled his eyes, but he was actually relieved all she did – so far – was make a couple of amused jabs about his escapades yesterday night and nothing as grand or fearsome as he'd imagined. "Since this weekend daddy is not supposed to be called in for work and neither is Okita-san, I decided to ring him up and see if he can eat with us today. He said yes."

"Yay!" Aiko was most excited, actually putting her little fists up and dancing.

"Let me help you with that," Saitou finally offered, when he watched her still struggling with the apron.

"I just arranged to go pick him up in fact; told him I'd go as soon as you'd wake," she informed as she simply turned around for him to undo the knot without protesting. "He said we should go pick up your car on our way here and on his way home, I drop him off to where he left his car and we're all happy."

"Did you glue this thing together?" Saitou asked exasperated as he saw how tight the knot was and how it wouldn't budge no matter what; she laughed.

"No, but I did pull it a bit harder than I should, apparently. Do you want me to do it after all?"

"No."

He said it stubbornly; she couldn't see him well because she had her back turned for the most part, but she could just picture that expression of silent determination on his face, making her smile, especially since Aiko was just circling them, skipping or dancing as she went.

"Why did you call Okita?"

"Aiko hasn't seen him in a while and I was up sooner than you, so..." She shrugged. "Do you mind?"

"Not entirely."

Not now that he knew it was Okita; at least not as much. That made no sense though and he knew it. Why was he annoyed on the first place? He had no idea if she was attached in any kind of way to someone before this; it was more probable, in fact, that he came in and upset an ongoing or previous relationship, or even ended one, with their "arrangement". Maybe it was because she was the one who insisted on this looking and being as real as possible—if she had a guy on the side, it wouldn't fly. Not that she gave him any reason to think that.

Huh.

"Do you want me to ask you first, from now on?"

"...no, it's fine." He shook his head. "Forget I said anything." He huffed. "Raise your hands." He grabbed the piece of fabric and pulled it over her head, hair catching a little, and threw it on the couch. "Go pick up Okita; you put this right when you come back."

She chuckled. "As you wish." She bent her knees low and caught Aiko just as she was ready to complete yet another circle around them. "Give me a kiss."

She offered her cheek; readily, Aiko obliged. "Can't I come, too?"

"I thought it'd be nice for you to spend some time with daddy, alone; I'll be back in an hour at most anyway. I won't be gone for long. And I'll bring Souji-kun with me, too!"

"Souji-jii-san!"

"Exactly." She kissed the top of her head and stood to her full height, back bumping into Saitou's chest. She didn't seem to mind the proximity though, she just angled her head towards him. "I'm going; you give me a kiss, too."

She offered her other cheek to the tall man, who had to bent low to do it, but even then, if she hadn't actually pressed herself on his lips, he wouldn't have completed the motion. Her eye roll was discreet but easy to spot by him, which is why she did it. "You're hopeless, detective," she whispered, surprisingly in good humour still, and kissed his cheek instead, fleetingly. "I'll be back, people who live in my house—..."

She stopped, chuckling disbelievingly and shook her head; to Hajime's amused but wondered expression, she explained. "Technically, I live in your house, I know; it's just...dad used to say that each and every time he left home, when we were still all living together and it came naturally to me." She smiled at herself, shaking her head, as she put her shoes on, grabbing her keys. "So, I'll be back, people whose house I live in. Buh bye for now..."

"Bye kaa-san!"

Just as she waved goodbye, and closed the door behind her, only then did she realise what Aiko called her; did, did she just call her kaa-san? Her eyes grew wide. Ah shit. It's barely been a whole week, too...that was dangerous. Sighing, she took to the stairs, to clear her head.

.

"Hello, Tokio-chan! How was your night?"

"You little shit," she wasted no time giving him hell, despite the smile on her face – and his, wider than she'd ever thought possible – "what do you think you're doing? Why did you let them get him drunk? You know he tends to talk when he drinks, I bet; so what's your excuse? What if something that couldn't be explained away escaped?"

"It's nice to see you, too," he quipped in return, uncaring of her questions. "Drive."

"Do you realise what could have happened? I don't care if you were there and you totally had it under control" she mocked his tone from their phone call earlier, before Hajime and Aiko woke up "things could have gone south, fast; if you wanted your friends to meet me, you could have done a number of things...like call me and set up a meeting—or just surprise me at work, you know where that is. You visited me plenty of times when I was a suspect in your murder investigation."

"Well, yes, but that would lack Saitou's input in the matter; Hijikata wanted some truth out of him otherwise he wouldn't have stopped pestering him."

Her eyes became very small as she stared at him; Okita simply shrugged, uncaring. "Tis the truth; now drive. The car's twenty minutes away; we have time to talk."

"I see."

For some reason, he wanted her to be distracted when they had their discussion; Okita, being the skilled and insightful detective he was, realised that a person like her, easy to act at a moment's notice and so quick to twist the truth to her advantage, would easily control her reactions and emotions in any setting...other than making an effort to focus on something as demanding as driving. Since she'd be busy enough keeping them alive, he hoped, her initial reactions would be honest ones—those you cannot control, those micro-expressions that barely lasted half as much as any other person's.

Maybe now he had a chance.

So, he let her interrogate him to her heart's content—because that's what it was: an interrogation. Surprisingly enough, he found out, she hadn't blown up on Hajime at all, nor had she blamed him, not really – barely confronted him, in fact – for any of it, having the firm belief he was ambushed. Yes, it was his choice to have that fourth, fifth, seventh drink, but...she knew how it was. Peer pressure, or simply the euphoria of drinking with your friends after such a long time misled you. And when the friend that's supposed to keep you in check facilitates them, well, how hard can it be to get drunk?

So she was angry with Okita, for no other reason that he could have blown this entire operation. That and, well, Hajime didn't get to kiss Aiko goodnight; and he was so shitfaced, he didn't even want to see her. He wasn't able.

"Otherwise, I really have no complaints; you guys went out and drunk a bit more than usual. Big deal." She chuckled. "It was surprising, to hear him talk of things he normally wouldn't."

"Oh? Like what? Tell me, tell me."

"...he spoke of Yaso, a little. And called me scary."

There it was; the perfect connection. "You spoke of her in a way, too, last night though, right?"

"Me?" she asked, just in case her expression of unadulterated surprise wasn't enough.

"Like I said, in a way...when Hijikata asked you why you are with him."

"Help me out here, Souji."

"You told Hijikata point blank that you think he'll always love Yaso, but that doesn't stop him from forming new bonds or loving you, too."

"Ah, yeah. Well, am I wrong?"

"No, but it depends on how much of that was truthful."

"All of it; what ever do you mean?" She was now glancing his way more often than before. "Was I wrong?"

"No," he answered amused.

"Then what's the issue here, I don't get it."

His smile became even wider. "The fact you weren't lying."

She seemed even more confused; now her glances kept alternating between the man and the road continuously, trying to figure out where he was going with this. "Why would I lie when the truth is the right thing to say?"

"Only because it means you actually care for him, even if you try to play it off so detached and business-like."

She came to a stop at a red light that same moment and turned to look at him, a mixture between incredulity and shock, thinking him at least careless for his allegation...as wall as unbridled shame, or at least shyness, for her cheeks had never been witnessed in a deeper red than this one. Okita could have laughed. To think his plan would work so well, how convenient.

She was blushing. And it was adorable. Despite her efforts to look like he was crazy for even thinking that, his reserved smile became a full blown simper, devious and triumphant.

The light turned green and she had to look away, her internal panic calming down, although never really showing on her face.

"Souji-kun, you're reaching," she said through chuckles then "only because you want it to be true, doesn't mean it is." Even as she was driving, she raised an eyebrow full of meaning. "It was not only the right thing to say, but it was also correct; it's as deep as that."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Tokio-chan."

"Souji, please."

But her nonchalance was brushed aside all too easily, by his hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you need to tell yourself Tokio-chan," he repeated, but made a small pause "just know, your secret's safe with me."

"Souji," she was far more imperative now "don't read too much into this. And don't tell anything to Hajime."

"Like I said," he assured, squeezing her shoulder but then letting go completely "your secret's safe with me."

"There's nothing to keep secret." His condescending "aha" was ignored. "You're really reaching..."

"Then you have nothing to convince me of and we're all fine; but if you keep insisting, you only make me feel like I am right."

"...you are insufferable."

"Aw, Tokio-chan, we are finally friends." She looked a little taken aback by that comment. "If one hasn't called me at least once insufferable, then do they truly know me?"

She actually burst out laughing. She had to stop the car on the side of the road with alarm on, just so she could laugh it off in a safe way and didn't start driving for another couple of minutes. Just before she started again, she turned to him, regarded him for a long moment.

"I agree; we are finally friends."

After that, not a word was exchanged between them, until they reached the cars; Okita picked up Saitou's keys and took the car, following Tokio back home. When the door opened, they were treated to a rare sight: Hajime was sitting up on the sofa, with a book in one hand, his daughter snuggled up in the other; he was reading to her, they could hear his voice before entering, and she was loving every second of it. She was looking at him like no one else existed in this world. Tokio doubted she heard a word he was saying. But then they came in and the spell was broken.

Overjoyed, Aiko perked up from under her father's arm and took only a second to recognize the new arrivals. Once she did, she literally jumped over the couch and ran right into Okita's open arms.

"Souji-jii-san!"

"Here's my favourite girl!"

It was spoken with practice; Tokio couldn't help the smile from before even, but now it got wider.

As Aiko and Okita kept exchanging the usual pleasantries, Tokio took a moment to study Hajime. He never stood from the couch, only put his hand on its back and turned his head, in a devil-may-care attitude. His expression was neutral, no smirk or smile to be seen, but she could tell he was relaxed; at peace...spending this time with Aiko must have been a breath of fresh air for him, seeing he almost never had the opportunity during the day.

She never took her eyes off of him, even after he turned to her in particular, feeling the prolonged stare; instead, they shared a moment, during which both people looked at one another with suspended disbelief and appreciation. She ended the stalemate by gracing him with a small, enigmatic smile, as her eyes shifted to his daughter, who was now complaining she wanted a hug from Tokio, too.

She readily obliged.

Other than that, the day went by in a flash; the four of them did a lot of things together—or at least, three of them at any given moment, while one adult always took a break to sort something out: a phone call, cooking prep, or special arrangement for later. At some point, his mother and father dropped by, saying hi to all of them, stayed for a short while and left.

It was time for dinner before they realised.

"Let's have take-out!" Okita suggested.

"Let's not," Saitou cut off his enthusiasm before it infected his daughter.

"Why don't we all cook something together for dinner?" Tokio countered and thank Buddha, Aiko seemed to take to that immediately and clapped her hands.

"Yes, yes, yes! Let's all cook something," she parroted excited.

"How about ramen?"

"Ramen, ramen, ramen," Aiko started chanting, but both men were skeptical.

"It'll take too long," Hajime protested and Okita seemed to agree.

"Yes, but you two, along with Aiko can prepare some of the ingredients while I make the broth, which is the most time-consuming part. It's a group activity so it'll be fun, come on. What say you?"

There wasn't much they could do, when she put it so nicely and Aiko kept chanting it. They both sighed. "Fine," Okita gave up first "have it your way."

"As always," Saitou completed; she had to smile, self-satisfied, but Okita made a mental note of that.

He made another mental note that day, of course, a more important one: he hadn't noticed if Aiko had said it before, but once they started preparations for dinner, she hadn't stopped calling Tokio "kaa-san"; and every single time it happened, he would catch Tokio's eyes snap to his friend who did his best not to show anything, or look at anyone, in fear his true sentiments would seep out in front of his daughter. That girl was highly empathetic, as proven countless times, the last thing anyone wanted was for her to catch on to this scheme. So, he kept his poker face solid, his eyes off of anyone and simply soldiered through.

Other than that, though, the day was a success. Aiko went to bed too early, as she was exhausted by the continuous activity and Saitou was allowed half an hour to decompress and think of what he wanted to say to Tokio, while she drove Okita to his car and then back.

"I'm back," she made herself known, as she removed her sneakers by the door, even if he had already heard her coming.

"Welcome back," he replied, never moving from his spot on the couch, only looking fleetingly back.

She felt a strong dose of deja vu, as he was sitting in the exact same place as this morning when she came in with Okita, in the exact same pose. She had the urge to ask if something was amiss, but instead she remained looking at him for a long moment, exactly as she'd done then, too, studying his expression and his body language. Opposed to this morning, there was tension in his limbs, in his entire body in fact; but also a sense of purpose. He wasn't looking at her, but his eyes were focused, obviously thinking of something particular. Slowly, but with confidence, she walked to him.

Without missing a beat, he showed her the seat next to him; she took it. Per usual, she didn't make herself smaller, like most women he knew; she crossed her legs idly, sitting back deeply, as if his couch was her throne. One limb resting on the arm of the couch, she other in her lap, she took up more space than him. He wouldn't admit it to her, ever, but he liked how she had hard-wired herself to have an advantage in conversations, simply by not sitting folded.

"So," he started, supposedly nonchalant "today was fun."

"So it was."

"Quite surprising, too."

"Meaning?"

"Two things I didn't expect to happen, did: first, and foremost, the minute I woke up, I heard my daughter casually calling you mom. You can understand why that was surprising."

She didn't seem to take it as an accusation, which was good, because he didn't mean it like that...even if he purposefully had been a little vague when he spoke. People with a guilty conscience tend to give themselves away, by overreacting. Apparently, she didn't fall into that category of people. Still, he said nothing further, waiting for her input. And when she realised, she gave it.

"Then you heard it before me; and I was certain you'd mention it earlier, too, but you waited a long time, great discipline." She chuckled. "I heard her say it when I was leaving to pick Okita up." Shaking her head, she finally allowed her anxiety show through. "It...was a little surprising to me, too. In fact, it was way more surprising to me than you, let me tell you."

He couldn't help the smirk. "It scared you, didn't it?"

"It freaked me out...! I, uh, did not expect to hear that anytime soon." He simply put his hand on her shoulder, even if he had to reach out. "But I managed, I think. It didn't show, did it? You think she saw it?"

"No, she didn't; I didn't either." Her sigh of relief was a little, he was not going to lie, adorable. "But it did happen."

"A lot sooner than we thought, too..."

"It just goes to show you how—" But the words died in his throat. "I'm sorry; I know it can't be comfortable for you."

She snorted, untangling her feet and mimicking his own pose. "Comfort is a luxury at this point," she remarked and looked at him keenly. "But she's too cute, so it's fine."

Then, feeling emotionally drained, she closed her eyes and slowly fell to the side...until she found his arm and decided to rest her head on his shoulder. She felt him go a little stiff, but otherwise did nothing. Heh, he was so straightforward.

"So what's the other thing?"

"You didn't give me a hard time this morning."

With whatever strength she had left, she waved him away. "I only minded you were too drunk to walk on your own, mostly because if Aiko woke up at any moment, I'd have a hard time explaining it. Otherwise, meh, it's okay. You're not the type of person to do it often, I can tell." She looked up at him and she found he had an inexplicable expression on his face. "Did you have fun, at least?"

He couldn't fight back the smile. "I did." He looked away then, sobering up. "But you're right. I didn't like I couldn't even say goodnight to Aiko, too; next time, I'll be more responsible."

She hummed in agreement.

"You look tired," he observed.

"Nah, I'm fine." Her eyes darted to her laptop. "I have to look at my emails now anyway...but it won't take too long. Maybe an hour, if all hell broke loose. Wanna watch an episode or two after?"

He looked at his watch. "Yeah, why not? I'll take a look at a couple of things of my own while you sort through your emails, too."

"Perfect; it's decided." She pushed off and headed straight to the armchair, where she proceeded to curl in, laptop now open. But then she looked up at him, like she had forgotten something important. "Can you make me a cup of chamomile please? I don't wanna get up now..."

"I will," he didn't even have to be convinced; after all, she always made him coffee when she brewed her beverage. "Honey and lemon, right?"

"Yes, please."

True to her word, half an hour and change later she was finished with her work; he finished whatever he had started, too and they both sat back to the couch, after she hooked the laptop to the screen, to watch the next two episodes. Well, four; the next day was Sunday, after all. They could stay up a little late. So, after four episodes, they decided they were tired enough to sleep and headed to their bedroom.

"Dibs on the bathroom," she exclaimed.

"You went three times," he disbelievingly noted.

"I drunk too much chamomile," she lamented in return, grabbing her nightgown and its matching robe. "I'll be back in less than five minutes."

"Take your time," he waved her away.

When she returned, it was his turn; when he returned, though, she was already sitting up in bed. "Hajime, I meant to ask you; do you not allow Aiko-chan to sleep with you?"

"...I do."

"How come she hasn't knocked the door even once ever since I came?"

"I didn't advise her against it, if that's what you're implying," he said, amused, as he got into bed next to her.

"...very well. Maybe she just doesn't feel comfortable yet."

"Or hasn't had a nightmare; she comes running in," he gestured with his hand, making an abrupt move.

Tokio shook with suppressed laughter. "Poor sweetheart." As it died down, she turned to look at him. "How often does she get them?"

"Not much; it's just that lately there's this little girl at school that's been calling her names and she gets upset."

"Why?"

"Who knows? I just don't like it; but I can't actually do anything about it...I've talked with the teachers, too, they say they have more things to worry about, basically. I don't know if I like it, but they aren't objectively wrong."

Her distaste was obvious. "That sounds like an excuse to me," she simply stated.

"I can't do anything else, other than pull her from the school and I don't want to, at least not yet. If it gets worse, we'll see."

"Just tell me, if you need help with that." He nodded, agreeing. "We gonna do anything special for tomorrow?"

"No, let her be; we spoiled her enough for a week."

She chuckled. "Fair enough; well, I think we have nothing else to talk about. Goodnight Hajime." She turned off her bedside lamp; he followed her example.

"Goodnight Tokio."

This night was easier for him to fall asleep than any other, yesterday notwithstanding. He managed to keep himself from looking at her, or moving any muscles, too, which only helped the cause. And thus, not fifteen minutes later, he was fast asleep. And yet, how could it be, he woke up with a leg draped around him, on his side instead of his back as he was supposed to be, facing the bedside table.

"...good morning," he mumbled, when he felt the leg around him twitch and move; after he spoke, it slowly started slithering away, too.

"Good morning..." A pause. "Is it really morning though?"

"Yes."

"Can't I sleep a little longer?"

"You can, but it's still morning."

She started making noises that indicated she was complaining to him, about the fact it was morning and although she could sleep longer if she so desired, apparently she thought it for some reason wrong, so she couldn't stay in bed any longer, even if she wanted it. Tokio was, surprisingly, reluctant to get up, much like his daughter always is. He didn't fight the smile this once, as he made the same suggestion he'd make to his Aiko.

"How about I whip up breakfast until you properly wake up? And if you aren't up by then, I'll come wake you."

"...sounds nice..."

"What do you want to eat?"

"I eat everything..." she murmured, pulling the blanket up higher, to hide her face from the sun rays that made it through the curtain. "Just make sure it's savory; I want a savory breakfast."

"Savory it is."

Fully rested, he got up easily; he had to take a moment to watch her though. She never turned away from him, if anything, when he moved and she had to take her foot away, she complained about it. She was so weird...but in an endearing way, if the way he was looking at her was any indication. He took pause then; wait, what was he thinking? Shaking his head, he proceeded to stomp all the way to the kitchen, almost mad at himself. It was one thing for his daughter to be calling Tokio mom when she had never met anyone to fulfill that role; what was he doing, staring at her sleeping? He was ridiculous. With a vengeance, he took out pots and pans and started cooking.

She had no idea how long it'd been, but the smell of something delicious compelled her to rise all on her own. Following strictly her nose, she found herself in the kitchen, behind a labouring Saitou, hunched over the oven. Instead of making herself known, she tiptoed close. She got no reaction from him, no acknowledgment; could it be, he had really not heard her? Because he was always so alert...maybe she'd get to surprise him, just this once. Almost rubbing her hands together, she moved closer yet, ready to speak—

"Breakfast's almost ready," he informed her, causing her to jump.

A small yelp escaped her. In the end, she was the one to play the trick on herself; she didn't miss the way he smirked at her though, a testament to how he had seen through her little prank. Pouting, she crossed her hands. "I'll go wake Aiko-chan up."

Sunday was graceless. Although he wasn't on duty, he still received a call, nearly ten minutes after they had finished breakfast; he couldn't not accept the call, so, he got up, got dressed, and left for the crime scene. But not before kissing his daughter...and fiance goodbye. This once, she had all but demanded it.

What a troublesome woman.

.

"Hello Hajime, how are you? How's your day?"

"Hellish; yours?"

She chuckled. "Better than that..." He appreciated her humour. "I meant to ask you, you won't be home on time, will you?"

"Not by a long shot."

She guessed as much; yesterday night, keeping in mind it was a Sunday, he came back around eleven. It was crazy. She was already off to bed by the time he had changed into his house clothes. She didn't know just how much longer he stayed up, but she knew it was after one in the morning, for she had woken up, went for a glass of water, and there he was, looking at files. Still, when she woke up to go to work, he was next to her; at least they got over that obstacle.

"Alright, see, I just received a call from a very dear friend and she asked me to go for a coffee. I will."

"I can't be home to keep Aiko; if you must, hand her over to mother."

"No, no; I was going to ask you, if you mind I take her with me."

He took a moment to process it. "You what now?"

"I want to take her with me. It'll only be a couple of hours, tops; and the woman I'm meeting is a very good person, Aiko won't hear anything weird. So, can I take her?"

"Well, I don't mind if you do...for some reason I just don't like the idea."

"Oh, she'll have a great time! Don't be like that."

There was another long moment of silence, as he processed more things...finally, a sigh. "Fine; go have your coffee. But don't let her drink any. I've forbidden it—not before she turns sixteen."

She actually laughed, throwing her head back. "Honey, I drink chamomile," she reminded "though sixteen? Really?" Shaking her head, she kept hiccuping her mirth away. "Your wishes shall be respected anyway, Hajime."

"Then by all means; go have fun."

"Thank you; we shall. Do you have anything you wanna eat, when you manage to come back?"

"...plain soba," he said with a sigh and hang up just as he heard her "as you wish," on the other end. There was too much work to be had. And two murder cases needed to be solved now; it'd been a long time that had happened in their department. Oh well. He had to do it; bitching about it wouldn't get it solved. He pulled his literal and proverbial sleeves up and got to work.

He got home at another ridiculous hour again, at least considering the fact he was on the clock since eight; twelve whole hours. It was twenty three past eight when he got home. He was relieved to find both on the couch, both in their nightwear: Aiko already in her pajamas, while Tokio had her nightgown and robe combination on, per usual. His daughter was solving some sort of problem, lying on the length of the couch, heads supporting her head, elbows supporting the rest of her body. Her little feet moved up and down in the air; and her book was in Tokio's lap, who had the laptop propped on the arm of the couch.

"Welcome home daddy," Aiko saluted brightly from the couch, but never moved to physically greet him.

"Hey honey," Tokio fell right in step "welcome back. Go change and wash your hands; I'll finish an email here, too and I'll set the table."

"Hey; thanks."

He spared a second to kiss the top of Aiko's head in passing. When he reemerged, five minutes later, he found Tokio over the kitchen counter; suddenly he felt like an asshole. She always played her part, and then some; yet he could never bring himself to do it. No wonder she gave him the stink eye whenever he passed up instances such as these, even if she didn't really react this once. So, feeling like he wanted to do at least one thing right today, seeing his cases went from bad to worse, he decided to stalk to the kitchen and do at least one of the two: kiss or hug her.

When he went close enough and she still hadn't heard him, much like she thought he hadn't yesterday morning, he decided to "scare her" again and put his hand on her shoulder.

Heh, he was right; she jumped, almost let go of the knife she was holding and yelped. "Thanks for the food," was all he said, after a very fleeting chuckle – and an equally fleeting but formidable glare from the woman –.

He brought her close to him with his hand and kissed the top of her head, too; she turned to him a little surprised, but honestly impressed. She made sure Aiko didn't see it, and forced her face into a more natural smile. "You're very welcome."

"What are you doing, though?"

"Well, you said plain soba but I can't just serve you a simple plate...I'm making a salad to go with it."

"Thanks." It was said genuinely. "I appreciate it." Her smile was genuine, too. "Little plum, did you eat?"

"Yes! I was too hungry, so mommy and I had dinner."

"Would you like to keep me some company while I eat?"

"Not at all!"

She shot up from the couch and reached him in record time. "I'm here...!"

As Tokio applied the finishing touched to her salad, they sat properly down, one opposite the other. "I heard it was a special day, today," Hajime started the conversation; just then, his soba was served right in front of him, salad following. Time to eat!

"Yes, yes, yes!" Aiko was buzzing to share the events. "Kaa-san came and picked me up from school just as the bell rang and then we came back here to change! And she told me I could choose to wear whatever I wanted, but it had to be two different colours."

"How exciting," he goaded, taking a break from his eating.

"Yes, it was! I chose that nice dress you say I can't wear too often with my black coat and kaa-san said the black stockings and then we were both ready! Kaa-san wore something I hadn't seen before, too—a nice red dress to match mine!"

"How nice of her," he kept commenting between bites, sparing a knowing look for Tokio who almost giggled.

"And then we left and went to some fancy place! It was very large and clean and white; we sat at a table and they brought me two big hard pillows to reach the table while sitting, too and it was very nice. I could look at kaa-san and her friend. Her friend came a little later."

"Oh, you had company? Who was she? What was her name?"

"She was a very tall lady, very fomitable..."

Tokio smiled. "Formidable, sweetie; fo-rmi-dable."

"Fo-rmi-da-ble...formidable! Very formidable."

"You learnt a new word today, too, I see."

"Yes! Kaa-san said it and I liked it."

"It's a nice word, good for you. Congratulations on learning it,too. You know what it means, yes?"

"Kaa-san said it means scary, but in a good way."

"Huh." He considered. "Not bad. Well done, little plum." Aiko beamed. "And? What's her name?"

"Ah, yes! Her name is Ari-san and kaa-san and her grew up together, went to the same school!"

Wait a second; that name rang a bell. He turned to Tokio, to verify his suspicions, and when she nodded, his eyes grew a little wider. "I see...did you like her?"

Aiko chuckled. "Yes; she was very funny. She made us laugh a lot. She seemed like she was a good friend to kaa-san, too so I liked her more."

Ugh, her heart melted; she couldn't help herself, she stood from her chair and kissed Aiko on the top of her little head. "But Aiko was very good, too. She drank her juice with a straw and only used her hands for the cookies that came with our beverages."

"Very nice, little plum."

"I didn't want to make my dress dirty! I only wear it once or twice a year."

"Everything can be washed; don't worry about that."

"But Ari-san said we should go shopping. And kaa-san agreed!"

Hajime turned to look at Tokio, a scolding look on his face; she put up a hand, pointer finger extended. "Now, listen to me; it isn't frivolous shopping. We just happened to mention how we'll be going to my parents this week and, because we wore matching outfits, Ari commented how we should do the same for that day but Aiko said she didn't have anything nice enough to wear for that, so I promised her, we'd go buy her a new outfit, if she felt like she needed to buy something new, to meet her new grandparents."

Ah, this is where this was going; she was trying to communicate it was Aiko's wish to go shopping, because she felt like nothing was good enough. And they were supposed to be her new grandparents, probably Ari made a big deal out of it, too, so she felt like she had nothing to wear. Fine, he would allow this. But not without a fight.

"Are you sure we can't find anything in your closet for the occasion?" Aiko shook her head no emphatically. "Not even that other dress is good enough?"

Aiko seemed to consider and it was so comical to Tokio how much she mimicked her father, because she had the very same expression and posture when she did it. "I don't think so...but if daddy thinks it isn't needed..."

Tokio felt her heart melt again; what an accommodating child! But that was why she didn't want her to take it back; she took a deep breath, turning to look st Hajime scolding, but he was already shaking his head.

"Little plum, it's just a dress; or whatever you want to buy. We can buy it, if you want it." Her smile was so bright, it was unbearably cute. "But I can't take you, yes? You'll have to go with—"

"Kaa-san and I will go together, we talked about it! We need to match, remember?"

"Of course, how could I forget?"

Ah; there went the times when Aiko would beg to go shopping together, not to actually buy something, just to spend time with him. Now she had someone else to take her; she didn't care. He was relegated to a simple decision maker.

"It will be fun," Tokio assured.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure." He shook his head. "I'll...I don't know, what do you prefer? Cash? Card?"

She chuckled. "Card; I have one." She could sense the defensiveness come over him, so she gave him a look. "Sweetie, is your math homework done?"

"Yes."

"Then go put your things in order, daddy's finished with his food anyway."

Which wasn't a lie, he had devoured his food, he was too hungry. But that wasn't why she sent her away. Once she had gone though, Tokio turned to him, look as if he was being ridiculous. "Hajime, I have money; I can pay for a dress, or a pair of pants and a blouse and a pair of shoes; besides, I promised her, sort of, if you said yes, I'd take her to some of my favourite shops for children."

When she saw his eyes widen, ready to protest, she put both her hands out. "Hear me out; they are not that unreasonably priced and they are very cute; plus, this will basically be my first present to her. I want it to be nice."

He couldn't say anything to counter that, they both knew; that's why she used it as a bargaining chip. Still, the look she was graced with, was unrivaled in its intensity. She tried to win him over by playing nice. "I understand why you're hesitating, but I promise, she won't ever even look at the price tags. She won't know. As far as she's concerned, it's just another outing. The only difference will be, instead of you, I'll be the one buying them." She shrugged. "Big deal...!"

"I don't like it."

"Only because you feel you've been replaced." She could have laughed with how accurate she was—he bristled all over, ready to deny everything, but she stood from her chair and took the plates, throwing him off. At the same time, she put a hand on his shoulder. "No, you are not that transparent; but it isn't so difficult to figure it out." He refused to acknowledge it, looking away. "Cheer up; you won't have to be involved in such a time consuming thing after all. We're going tomorrow and then on Wednesday, if we don't find what we want. And don't forget, I have to buy something, too."

That he did comment on. "As if you don't have enough clothes already."

"I wouldn't want to make Aiko feel like I was pressuring her into buying something because it would go very well with something I already have. Better we both buy something new, just for the experience. You, on the other hand, don't need to shop; a suit's a suit."

"Thank Buddha."

"I am merciful in my tortures."

He did laugh at that; she felt accomplished. "Will you be staying up late tonight, too?"

"...yes."

Just the fact the shift from "relieved" to "annoyed" happened so easily, when faced with this question, she considered it a true feat. He finally reacted the right way to the illogical workload they pushed on him, instead of treating it as the perfect excuse.

"Want me to make you some coffee?"

"I'll make some later."

"Well, I think Aiko has an hour and a half left before she goes to bed; want to do something altogether?"

"Like what?"

"How about we read a book to her."

"We aren't both needed for that."

"Of course we are! We'll make the different voices and everything. It will be fun, like watching a play. Come on, come on, think about it." She nudged him with the back of her palm repeatedly, on his middle. "Until I finish with the dishes, she'll be out."

That night, Aiko was treated to a very interactive rendition of her favourite book. Saitou hadn't expected his daughter to be so much into it, but she even asked for a second story – since it was a small one on purpose – and he had to oblige. Only this once, Aiko acted like a regular member of the audience and clapped, laughed, or booed accordingly. She even had her father bring her a juice box and an apple, as if she had bought them.

Once the clock showed it was half past nine, they decided to call it a night, and put the furniture back in their place, as well as Aiko to sleep. Hajime had the honours this once.

"Thank you, Tokio."

He had said it from his preferred chair at the kitchen table, while looking through his files. He'd been there quite a long time, but he'd stopped, just to talk to her. He even put everything down to give her the appropriate attention, even if he wasn't looking directly at her.

"For what?"

"You have a way of doing things; I would have never thought of that."

"Two minds are better than one, for these situations."

"But I still wouldn't have thought of it."

"It's okay, you think of other things."

There was a suspicious silence. And then he said it.

"Tokio, do you think...I am not enough for her?"

She was being nonchalant about this whole conversation but this just took a turn; she put her book down instantly, and looked at him at a length. He was still not looking at her, opting to stare off in the distance in general. She took a deep breath.

"Do I think, you mean, in general, if one parent is as good enough as two? Or do I think you, in particular, are good enough to be two parents at the same time?"

He said nothing, but his chin tightened. She stood. "Hajime, don't do that to yourself."

She went closer, leaving her book next to his files. "Personally, I think single parents are too underappreciated in our society; and it depends on the person: one of you can be better than ten of someone else. It's all about the effort and the end result. Don't beat yourself up because you had never thought of reading her a book like a play—who cares? You still take the time to teach her things, read her stories the conventional way...you're here every morning she wakes up and every night she goes to sleep. What more could anyone ask for?"

She hesitated at first, but then she saw it was sort of necessary, if she wanted to have the impact she aimed for. So, inhibitions brushed aside, she came behind the detective and wrapped her hands around his shoulders, while she rested her head on his.

Saitou felt his entire body going stiff.

"You are more than enough; I'm only here as a fail-safe. You have nothing to worry about."

Her words still felt empty to him though, though. He was almost stubborn when he said "but she's so different with you...I feel as if I've taken something away from her, all these years. And if I hadn't seen it, I would never believe it."

She let him go, a little abruptly, and grabbed the back of the chair. Turning it around, so he'd be facing her – which took a lot of effort from her part – and visibly upset, she banged her hands on the table behind him! She kept them there; she leaned in.

"You listen to me and listen good: we make all sort of sacrifices for our children that is a fact; all sorts of compromises, too." He had to lean a little back, to avoid her nose hitting his. There was also something very primal in her glare, too. "But a compromise in a romantic partner should not be one of them, especially since you seem to be the traditional type. What? You'll flip a coin whether you be forever miserable or happy by choosing a woman that you are not sure about in a hurry? If you're asking if she'd be better off with a mother, and not just you, then maybe that'd be true—if said woman was like you. Maybe not. Maybe, Aiko realised you were only pushing yourself for her sake and you would all be miserable."

She shook her head, enjoying his slight alarm, but anger not abating. "I'd like you to show me one person who said that about you and did not have some sort of personal gain from it. One."

"...very well," he put his hands up in surrender – or a barrier between her face and his that were too close for his tastes – "I got it."

"Good. Because I've been doing what you've been doing for a week and a half now and I feel exhausted." Her entire frame sagged, mood finally changing. "I don't know how you could do it for six years, all on your own, seriously. I mean, yes, people helped, but it was just you." She finally withdrew herself and stood upright, hands crossing. "But don't sell yourself short for anyone and anything." She spared a last, loving look for him. "You are much more than enough. Never forget it."

Ah shit, he was getting emotional; he could feel that knot in his stomach travel to his throat and suddenly he was unable to talk. It no longer hurt to breath or swallow, but he just couldn't articulate. Only stare at the floor begrudgingly, hoping it wouldn't show; that unspeakable gratitude, bubbling inside him, the impossible to put into words appreciation. He just kept looking stubbornly at the floor, somewhere behind her, as if it held all of his answers—a tutorial on how to express untold feelings.

But nothing.

And then she did the third thing that night that put him in some sort of general state of alert, when she grabbed his head, almost put him in a headlock, but didn't. It was a hug. The second of the day, in fact, and it was her, hugging his head close to her chest. Well, not close, on it; he could feel her heart beat. And once he got used to the physicality of it all, he slowly, imperceptibly let his head's weight just crush into her, finding some much needed support. She simply pat his back affectionately and he could feel his entire being protest this entire moment...but at the same time, he really needed it. Without realising, his hand slithered around her waist, stubbornly keeping her there, in place, lest she disappeared.

It was a good thing he did, too because she was about to regret doing this, thinking herself an idiot and him clearly unwilling to be touched in any kind of way, but thank Buddha, she was right the first time. And it just broke her heart how desperate he must have been about all of this, to tell her of all people. So, she simply squeezed him harder, because lord knew he needed it. And she couldn't help herself; she wanted to hug him. She wanted to hug him close and make all of his troubles melt away, because he was worth it. He was such a good man; he didn't deserve to be tortured like that, especially by his own mind. And she struggled to say all of that; she didn't know how to begin. So, maybe, if she smothered him enough and for a long time, he'd understand.

Thus, they stayed like that for a long time, in silence.

"You know," she started then, finally finding her words "I've seen people I wouldn't trust with a plant have children and they have absolute faith in their child-rearing abilities; how come you, the most responsible person I've ever known, is plagued by the worst case of self-doubt?" She sighed. "Hajime, you are better than that. Besides, do you take me for a bad person? You think, if I saw you were unfit to be a father, I'd keep helping you? Or at least, wouldn't tell you or try to change it?" She smiled to herself. "You need to believe in yourself; otherwise, how are we going to make others believe in you?"

She felt him shift, and raise his head; he was looking up at her. She was not going to lie, his perpetual poker face left her a little wondered to what he may be thinking, but she didn't mind; she simply looked down at him in return, a warm smile on her lips. "You got this; with or without help. I believe in you."

A long-suffering sigh escaped him, as he let his head fall in the crook of her neck. He took a deep breath, and squeezed her right back. Somehow, the scent that wafted about around them, made him feel calmer. Did she change perfumes? He remembered how it always irritated his nose, deeming it too strong. Maybe; he'd ask her tomorrow. Right now, he barely had the will to keep his eyes open. And while she held him, he didn't, actually; only once they parted, he did, lazily looking up at her.

He meant to thank her; again. He meant to communicate to her exactly how much that mattered to him, especially coming from someone who could be considered a stranger that still understood him so well, but nothing came out. He would just stare at her with various degrees of discomfort at missed chances. He'd take a breath, but never use it. Why was he having such a difficulty with speaking tonight?

It was her who got him out of the tough spot, once again. Shaking her head, seeing his inability to properly express himself, she gave a half smile and looked to the bedroom. "I'm turning in; will you follow?"

There was his cue; he turned to his papers instantly. "I have some things I need to look at first."

"Don't take too long, alright?" He nodded. "Goodnight, Hajime."

She started walking away. He didn't have the heart to watch her go; he feared he'd just abandon his papers and follow her. Sweet, sweet sleep sounded very nice right about now and the idea of lying next to her suddenly didn't seem like all that much of inconvenience.

"You're not making this any easier, by the way," she called out, never looking back. "Just so you know."

He took pause. "What am I not—?"

"Goodnight Hajime; and don't take too long, I'll know."

"What—?"

"I'll know."

That was the second time she cut him off; she must have been quite adamant about not answering, fine. Blinking the whole scene away, fearing to linger on it too long, as he had no idea what sort of ideas it would bring, he went back to his case, just as the bedroom door closed behind her, trying to remain as unaffected as possible.

What an idiot.

Why did he have to be so proud all the time? And serious? And yet, so very vulnerable...? He was really not making any of this easier. Hell, he actually made it harder for her and she could have slapped herself for being so weak-willed and gullible and emotional; but first him. Who had the nerve to ask what she meant—as if he couldn't tell. What. An. Idiot. Ugh, she just wanted to disappear...! Τhen again, she did whatever she wanted before, too; it wasn't like the poor guy came and asked her to hug him. She did it on her own; yes, because he looked so sad, but still.

Damn it. Her head was a jumbled mess. She really needed the sleep. That would slow things down, preferably; hopefully; whatever. Shaking her head, she got underneath the covers and allowed the tantalising oblivion to claim her. But, like always, not for too long. She had turbulent sleeping patterns. Thus, when Hajime came to bed, he woke her...and she discreetly looked at her watch; it read twelve, almost. Heh, look at that; he listened to her. She didn't stir too much, hoping not to give herself away. She even did her best to remain looking the other way, but it didn't work.

"Sorry for waking you," he said evenly, as he started looking for clothes for the next day.

"Mmm, that's fine," she murmured, lying on her back instead, rubbing her eyes. She made an effort to see what he was picking out. "Not that tie with that shirt; pick one with," a yawn "a pattern. The bordeaux one with the tiny blue cubes's a good choice..."

He shrugged and simply reached for that one.

"And that shirt with the nice cuff's" another yawn "a good match..."

Surprisingly, he heard her again. "Great. Now come sleep already; the light's killing me."

"Yes, yes, I'm coming..."

Just by the way he stood in front of the wardrobe, his saunter, his tone...he was a wreck. If she could see it through all that sleep, it was bad. He kicked off his slippers and instead of sitting, per usual, he threw himself on the mattress. She pushed herself up on her elbows.

"How are you feeling...?"

"Right now? Or in general?" He lay down properly but turned his eyes to her. "Physically? Mentally? Emotionally?"

She stared at him for a long time, until she came to the conclusion "...you need the sleep," and forced his eyes closed; it caused him to snort a laugh. Since her hand was there, she checked his temperature. Nothing out of the ordinary. And yet, he was so...distraught. She sighed. She didn't know what to do.

But he really didn't do this any easier for her. Shaking her head, she actually moved towards him; he felt her movement and realised she was going to do something, but he didn't expect she'd actually kiss his forehead. He was a little stunned and considering the night they just had, this was the cherry on top of a very odd cake.

"Have some faith in yourself, idiot," was all she said, and lay back down, back turned to him. "Goodnight."

Heh, come to think of it, maybe she wasn't doing this any easier for him, too; who knew? All she knew was, the moment she shut her eyes she fell asleep. And yet, how was it that next morning she found herself facing him, leg wrapped around his again, only this once, her hand was almost touching him. Thank Buddha, he was still sleeping. His alarm hadn't woken him. Ah shit, he must have been too tired. Shaking him, retrieving her traitorous limb, she served as his wake-up call, starting their day, which surprisingly breezed past them.

Both of the next two days breezed past, actually.

What with her promise to Aiko, the two of them spent most part of the next two evenings, just as she finished with school, looking, searching and shopping. Of course, a new outfit included shoes accessories and maybe a coat, too, at least for the child, she herself had plenty of things to choose from. Thus, she barely had any time left for anything else other than cooking, as soon as she came home, and maybe a couple of chores that needed to be done—laundry, especially. So, when Hajime came back the second time, he was surprised to see both vividly talking between themselves, excited. And the moment they noticed him, Aiko all but flew to him, hugging his leg.

"Welcome home daddy, welcome back!" His own "I'm back" was lost to his daughter's ranting. "We finished with all our shopping, it's great; we bought shoes and bracelets and earrings—want to see them?"

"Welcome back, Hajime," Tokio came second, shaking her head, prying the girl from him.

Aiko wasn't deterred; she grabbed onto it again instantly. "Want to see my cute outfit daddy?"

"Of course I do; go change!"

"Kaa-san come, too," she let go of dad and grabbed Tokio's hand, tugging on her hand to follow in admirably timed succession "so we can both show daddy our new clothes."

"Sweetie, I want to set the table—"

"After, after! Come kaa-san, come, come!"

"Go," he made a shooing motion "I'll wash up and set the table myself."

She relented; Aiko let out a victory cheer and skipped all the way to the spare room, where they had left their brand new clothes. They had assured them they were clean to wear, but Tokio had them dry clean them anyway, no matter the extra cost. Which is why they decided they'd take two days for this—yesterday was the clothes, today was all the rest. After all, they'd go pick them up anyway.

By the time they reemerged, he had everything prepared for their dinner, but had decided to sit at the couch, not to rush them, which turned out to be a good decision because not only had they taken twice as long as usual to get ready, but his little plum was very careful and slow with each step.

He could tell why; this was a first for his daughter. This was, what the westerners would call, a princess dress. It had a big skirt, made of fine material, fan around her, not too thick, but smooth and opaque. Silk maybe? It stayed in its place, too, going from her middle all the way to just above her ankles, but not lower. He figured, they had to show off the shoes somehow. It was in a strong, not too bright fuchsia, an honestly good colour for a girl her age, fun and happy. The small corset consisted of a black base, in a fine quality clothe that he had no idea what it was, while a big daisy was embroidered on the front – and maybe the back, too – in fuchsia stitching. The collar and the bow on her waist were made from silk in the same shade as the skirt. And of course, there was a very fine, stylish, black long coat; it was very fashionable, too with a modern cut and a diagonal line for the buttons.

"Ta-dah!" She put her hands up high in the air, showing off her big dress. "Look daddy, look; isn't it very pretty?"

"The dress? Or you in it?"

"Both!"

The cautiousness was out the window, the moment Tokio slightly pushed her and she ran directly in front of her father. Then, Tokio made a circular motion with her finger and Aiko, excited, started twirling. He had to chuckle. She was enjoying herself and the dress so much; it warmed his heart.

"Yes, you both are very pretty; gorgeous, in fact. You have great taste. The coat is very nice, too."

"What does gorgeous mean, daddy?"

"It means too beautiful; so beautiful we had to invent a new word," Tokio pitched in to help, "right?"

"Exactly."

Aiko giggled, but her shyness was almost palpable. "Thank you daddy."

"You are very cute, too; like a flower." He opened his arms then, because her shyness became too obvious; she easily buried her head in his chest. "My precious, fuchsia, little flower." He kissed her temple after the short embrace. "And now you're going to change; you won't eat like this, you'll get your dress dirty. We want it clean for tomorrow or how you're gonna wear it."

"Ah, yes," alarmed, she untangled herself from her dad's hands. "I'm going, I'm going!"

His eyes turned to Tokio then, who was smiling, fighting the urge to shake her head and laugh at the same time. But when she noticed him looking, she stood straighter, eyebrows high. "What," he asked, but her lofty expression only became more pronounced. "Can it be, you're expecting some compliments, too?"

"Mmmm, maybe."

Nodding once, he motioned for her to take a turn, too and she actually obliged. He regarded her for a long time; a smirk formed. "You look very chic; the colours suit you, too."

He started innocently enough and he wasn't wrong; she had chosen the same shade of fuchsia as Aiko's dress for that blouse or shirt or what was it she was wearing, with the nice black lace around he chest area, over a very thin layer of fuchsia, as well as that simple black bow at the collar. It was tucked in a black, leather, form-fitting pencil skirt that descended all the way to her knee. It was a type of leather that was pliable, but somehow stayed in its place.

His smirk became wider. "Not to mention that skirt makes your ass look great." He looked at her feet, to see some T-strap fuchsia stilettos. "Or maybe it's the shoes."

Caught between scandal and amusement, she didn't know how to react for a second; then, she threw her head back laughing. "Is it the leather?" He shrugged. "Men love the leather." His who knows head bob made her laugh again.

"All I'm saying is, nice choice."

She gave him a look; he played it off as innocent. But then, as if remembering something she snapped her fingers. "Speaking of ass, I think it's about time people knew for sure we're" she looked behind her to make sure Aiko wasn't coming yet "we're having sex. Once Thursday is over, we could have your mother or Okita babysit for us."

Her change of topic gave him whiplash.

"You don't have to worry about a thing; I have a whole plan worked out." His look was suspicious, just as she started leaving. "I really got this; I'm going to change now and after we eat and we put Aiko to sleep, I'll explain everything."

He decided to tease her again. "Look, no matter when you bring it up again, I'm not having sex with you."

Just as she was about to answer, finger raised in protest, a deep breath already in her lungs, she decided to hold her tongue and temper in check, as she had just seen Aiko come out of the room. She still stared all kinds of sassy at him, but she couldn't say anything; and then the girl ran in her father's arms, who of course lifted her up effortlessly, propping her on his shoulder. He still had the time to smirk at her; without a shred of hesitation, Tokio took off a slipper and threw it right at him!

Aiko yelped and giggled; so, Tokio threw the second, and it hit him right on the thigh, for this one, he was gracious enough not to dodge.

.

"Okita will be arriving shortly," he announced, as she came into the living room; she had just finished putting Aiko to sleep. "I left the door unlocked, so he won't have to ring the bell."

"Cool; why though?"

"I have something he needs and I asked him to deliver something, too."

She shrugged. "Whatever, I don't mind."

He watched her sit down next to him, on the couch. "Now, care to explain what the hell you were talking about this evening?"

"I was only talking about how, if people are to believe we're a real couple, they need to believe we're having sex. And for that to happen, we need to spend at least one night away from..." she gestured all around her "but mostly, Aiko."

She considered.

"That's to say, people with children do have sex, but if you can help it...and we can. So, we ask your mother or Okita to babysit and we go for a dinner, drink, movie, whatever; then, instead of coming back here, we spend the night at my apartment. Dad's still paying for it, so it's perfect." He chuckled. "We wake up, come back here—boom! Date night."

"Huh..."

"And we don't have to do it just this once, either. We can constitute it as a weekly thing."

He was a little sour. "You can't program these kinds of things."

"Of course you do," she countered absolute, clicking her tongue "when you have such a hectic schedule you can't properly sleep."

"These thing just happen; you can't arrange for it to happen, it'll not—...I don't know."

"Hajime," she spoke through disbelieving chuckles "mood comes easily when you don't have a small child running around."

He didn't answer.

"Personally, I'm a physical person, yes? My social circle won't believe it's taken me so long to—...so there. And every Friday night, date night, sounds great!"

"Well..."

"Come on, what's there to think about?"

"We'll do as you say; I just don't agree with you. At least, I wouldn't, normally."

"Nonsense; this is the best option if you have a busy work life. I've done this before."

"These things need to be spontaneous."

Just then, the door opened, after a knock; Okita opened it and walked in, holding some papers. "Hey guys." He left them on the kitchen table, as soon as he took off his shoes.

"Oh, hey Souji." She turned back to Hajime, waving him away. "Everything needs to be programmed—this, too."

"It'll happen sooner or later, anyway; you don't have to."

"But if you don't make sure, then it might get postponed again, and again, and again and then it never happens—"

Okita clicked his tongue, stopping the argument. "What boring shit are you talking about?"

They looked at one another for a short moment; they turned back to him. "Taxes," she lied convincingly.

"Taxes," Saitou corroborated after a beat.

"Boo, change the subject."

"As you wish," she gave in, chuckles following as she went towards the kitchen. "I'mma pour myself a glass of wine; who wants some? It's dessert wine, so it's sweet."

"Why not?" Saitou said, shrugging.

"Me, too; but make it a small glass—I'm driving back home."

She winked in reply; they then heard the cork pop. "Want some snacks to go with it?"

"Nah," they refused at the same time.

"Suit yourselves."

The two of them started talking then and she was paying no attention to what was being said, as she started peeling or cutting up fruit: apples, oranges and bananas; it might sound like a lot, but there was no way they wouldn't eat in the end, no matter what they said. Once she was finished, she put the salad on a tray, along with three glasses and took them all to the table in front of them. There were two normal and one small wine glasses; then she came a second time, with the bottle and poured for all of them.

"Salut."

She raised her glass; they repeated the word after her and clanged theirs to hers. She drank all of it in a sip and proceeded to sit right between them, seeing they had left nearly a couch worth of distance between them.

"Tokio-chan is determined to have a good time," Okita joked, as she refilled her glass.

"Shut up, idiot." Despite the insult, there was humour there. She took a sip this once. "So, I heard you're going to babysit for us Friday night, huh?"

Okita chocked on his wine. "What? Who told you that?"

She smirked. "A little bird..."

"Oh come on, guys, not Friday night! I always have a date planned then."

"But we haven't gone out in ages, Souji," she goaded.

He groaned. "If you can be back by ten..."

"No, no, no sweetie; you'll stay the night. We won't be back till Saturday morning."

He perked up at that. "Oh?" His eyebrows wiggled. "Where are you gonna stay the night?" His eyebrows wiggled faster. "A hotel maybe?"

"My old apartment," she informed, taking another sip, through chuckles "that my father still pays for."

"Ooooh," he elbowed Tokio repeatedly. "And what are you gonna do all night long, all on your own?"

She just shook her head and took another sip, but Hajime simply snorted, a smirk already there. "I don't care what she has panned;" he looked at her, piercingly "like I've already told you, I'm not having sex with you."

Okita burst out laughing; Tokio pursed her lips, as annoyed as the first time he said it, looking in front of her and decidedly not him. She kept taking deep breaths, trying not to let Okita's laugh get on her nerves.

"I, if it's to get him laid," the poor guy said, hiccuping, "I'll babysit Aiko-chan every single night from now on."

"Okay, first of all, you're lucky I hold this couch to high esteem and I hand-washed it the second day I came to this house," she said, patting the furniture she was lounging on "otherwise, I'd have thrown you whatever's in my glass. But wine stains are a bitch to get off."

Both men seemed to enjoy that and chuckled. "Besides, if I was trying to have sex with you, you'd notice. I ain't shy." She drank whatever was left in her glass and moved to refill it. "Like I've already said, I'm a physical being; sex isn't a taboo subject for me."

Okita looked to the both of them, with a face that conveyed exactly how entertained and surprised he was at that, or the conversation.

"It's just another bodily function, a need; if possible, it should be met." Her eyes darted to him, a little annoyed. "And you should be happy with my behaviour so far; I haven't had sex for months andI ain't like you—I bet you haven't had sex since your wife passed anyway."

The last part she said it in passing and almost under her breath, but they both caught it. He wanted to contradict her, but at the same time he wanted to goad her further; Okita, meanwhile, was just enjoying the night, taking small sips of his wine and grabbing some of the fruits of her salad.

"See?" He took a couple of pieces of fruit and popped them in his mouth. "You're only furthering my belief you're trying to seduce me."

She seethed all over. "Don't ever use that verb, ever again. I hate it." She actually shivered. "I may be confident and not take any shit from assholes, but that doesn't mean they don't try to give me any, even now, but when I was younger naturally, it was much more frequent." She would gesticulate with the hand she had the glass, or take sips in-between. "Hell, it was rampant. Despite the fact my father was the CEO and founder, or a CEO and founder, they would still harass me or think I was trying to make my way up the ladder using my breasts instead of my brains."

She snorted, falling a little back, her head finding Hajime while her feet found Okita. "As if I needed them. And of course they tried to use the subject of sex as if it was something scandalous yet at the same time try to impress, or threaten me into it. But, like, bitch, if I'm gonna have sex, I won't choose the one with the finest office or job offer; I'll choose the one with the finest ass. And that ain't you, so fuck off."

She snorted again.

"And no one would get it...my father included. He always wondered why I don't like the rich daddy's boys he brought over for me." She shook her head. "Because they are assholes dad; assholes. One even went as far to insinuate if we were to get married, he would take over my position at the company and I'd stay home to raise his children. Huh! As if. No one can do my job as well as I do; or as thoroughly." She took a big sip. "Bitches."

"What do you do, Tokio-chan?"

"Currently, I am the PR manager and it's a nightmare, but I have a hand in business administration." She sighed. "Also, I had to fire two people last week and now the HR wants to claim me as their own, too. But I'm only one person, you know? I can only do so much."

"Yeah," they agreed sadly, taking a bite out of another piece of fruit.

She took another big sip, causing her to refill her glass again. "Not to mention, I don't like firing people. No matter, it's all so stressing, because on top of everything else, I have to prove to my father I can handle the pressure; he keeps saying, a position such as his has so many more people pulling him at all directions, but oh, he does it so well."

She clicked her tongue. "He had mom always at home though, she never worked; and he was never involved in our immediate upbringing. Hell, I doubt if he ever changed a single diaper. He didn't have to cook his meals, how much more an entire family's. He only has to be presentable and show up in time. Pff, big deal. He's a man; that means he just has to have a bath and wear a decent suit. But even to that, I have the disadvantage—hair, make-up, clothes, all take a long time."

He patted her back.

"And for some reason, lately I'm always hungry...!" Okita gave her a meaningful look. "Idiot, didn't you hear me? I haven't had sex in months..."

"Ah right...then what is it?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Maybe it's...you know, there was this ritual I had—whenever I was too overwhelmed or had a very shitty day, after my drink, I'd go to this wonderful little canteen and have the most filling curry...even when I didn't get to have a drink, I'd go there." Her sigh was loud. "I haven't been there a while...maybe that's what it is."

"Tokio," Hajime started, sober "I know I keep saying or implying how your coming here was a huge change for us, but in the end, your presence, so far, has only helped. If anything, it's your routine that's been obliterated and your schedule that's gotten heavier from all the extra work." She turned her eyes up at him, to find him entirely too serious. "If you ever feel like getting out of your head," he jutted his chin towards the entrance "there's the door. Aiko is my child, you know; I'm supposed to take care of her. And I did, all on my own, before you showed up."

"And then, there's me," Okita added, seeing where his friend was going with this.

"And my parents; they're right across the hall. There's no reason for you not to go to your favourite canteen and have a bowl of curry. There's no reason to shoulder so many things on your own, anyway. I'm right here."

She wouldn't look away for a long time; coupled with her drinking, he feared he wasn't getting through. But then, she looked away, a little redder in the face than two seconds ago, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're right...thank you, Hajime."

"You're welcome." There was a beat of silence. "But now I want to visit that canteen, too; why don't we go there on Friday? Unless it's something you want to keep to yourself."

"Boo, Saitou; what a cop out. Take her to some nice restaurant or something, at least."

She chuckled; she did not agree, not completely, but how cute of Souji. "We can go for a drink somewhere first and then go have a bite there. It sounds nice."

She reached out to her salad, but didn't find it at the right height. She looked down, only to find it almost empty. She pursed her lips, annoyed, and glared at Souji, seeing he was the one facing her. "Really? You said you didn't want any; now I don't have any!"

"There's a couple of banana slices and an orange."

"I put three apples in there; I wanted at least one bite of it."

"Aw, sorry Tokio-chan; next time."

"Next time's right," Saitou spoke, looking at his watch. "Okita, finish your drink." He stood, abruptly. "You're leaving."

"How polite, dear," Tokio joked, falling back and lying down on the couch.

He wasn't listening though, he was already at the kitchen table, reaching inside his briefcase. "Here's what you wanted," he produced a file "sorry I forgot about it yesterday."

"Nah, never mind."

Okita stood, too, and now she had nowhere to put her legs as well, just lay on the couch like it was a bed. The men kept their back and forth for a minute longer, but she wasn't paying attention. She was tired; she barely kept her eyes open. Maybe it had to do with the alcohol she consumed, too.

She did hear the door shut though, and then the lock. A second later, he felt a presence next to her. "Come on; we're going to bed." She groaned. "You're a grown woman; I'm not carrying you—at least, not in that nightgown." She groaned again. "You won't sleep on the couch either; I'm putting this bottle in the fridge and I'm coming back."

She could hear him make a fuss and yet it felt like no time passed between his ultimatum and him standing next to her again, saying "I'm back; move."

"Fine...!" She sat up. "Dibs..." a yawn "on the bathroom."

"Just don't fall asleep in there."

"Ha ha."

It might have taken twice as usual, but after all was said and done, she was in her nightgown, in bed before him, like always. He chuckled at her expense for a moment at first and only then did he lie next to her. She only remembered murmuring a "goodnight" and then, everything was black...but, her sleep was still turbulent. Apparently, if the abuse wasn't too great, it still affected her. She opened her eyes in the middle of the night, trying to find the source of her grievance.

It didn't take long.

She only had to look to her left, to see Hajime tossing and turning. Huh. That was...awkward. From what she could piece together, he was having a nightmare. What was the right course of action? Should she wake him up? She remembered the second time they ever slept next to one another, her intervention seemed to relax him; maybe it would work now, too. Instinctively, fueled by the extra alcohol in her veins, or so she told herself, she put her hand on his forehead. When she saw that didn't really help, she decided to be as daring as that night and ran her hand through his hair.

Bingo.

The most of it stopped; sweat still formed, but now whatever had gripped him, seemed to relax its hold. His breaths were coming in and out evenly now, although a little laboured. She watched some more, as she repeated the motion; again; and again. She didn't know if it was five minutes later or twenty, but she didn't stop doing it, until the man relaxed completely. Whatever it was that plagued him, it relented.

A small smile escaped her. It was so foreign to her, to see him vulnerable; but so rewarding. Without thinking too much about it, she decided to nestle in the space between his hand and his side, hands curling on his chest. After all, the weather still held some cold and her fingertips were almost frosty. If she helped him with his nightmare, he should help her with this, right? Ignoring the fact this was nothing but a flimsy excuse, she closed her eyes and drifted off, to a – thankfully – dreamless sleep.

A/N: Aaaaaand cut! That was it. Hope you loved it, sweeties! Leave a review on your way out and please, stay happy and healthy and safe; and, if you can help it, stay inside, curb the transmission of this virus.

Love, FAI.