In every breath, life or universe

by FallenAngelItachi

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

27. Fake it till you make it, Part five

A/N: Hello lovely people on the internet, how are you? Are you well? Hope you stayed healthy since last time I updated. Here in Greece, we are in complete lock down. Yay. It sucks but it's for the best. We should do all we can to help stop the spread of the virus so I'm not salty; I'm only salty because they forced supermarkets to be open two additional hours per day as well as on Sundays. I mean, you tell everyone to stay at home but us, who cares? Thankfully, they recalled the one additional hour and the Sundays. Thankfully. Anywho, that's it for the COVID-19 update lol.

Back to storytelling, this chapter is huuuuuuge, sorry. I just had a lot of time on my hands, given I could do nothing other than go to work and stay at home. Picking up right where we left of, hope you enjoy the chapter and don't mind the impossible word count. Love you all, have fun.

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

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Thursday evening, ten to seven, Saitou's car stopped in front of the address Tokio provided him with. It was a long drive, maybe an hour, and they had to contend with Aiko being bored. Thankfully, Tokio had found her something to do and she hadn't been too restless when they arrived. It was a very good neighborhood, only houses existed for a long way. Well, not houses exactly: mansions and this one happened to be a traditional Japanese estate that sprawled for the entire block. It was impressive in its expansion as well as quite...imposing. It reminded Saitou of the houses of some yakuza characters he had to pay visits to for questioning, fence as tall as the damn building included.

He lowered the window, per Tokio's request.

"Tokio-sama!"

Not two metres from where they were, a security box existed, right where the door was supposed to open; a man sat in it, door closed. But when he noticed the woman on the driver's left, he immediately stood to bow, even from within his cramped work station and pressed a button. Finally, the door started sliding open.

"Welcome back, it's been a long time; you and your new family are more than welcome."

"Thank you, Yamazaki-san, have a nice shift."

Saitou nodded, too and once the door was adequately open, he drove inside. The parking spot reserved for him was hard to miss, as it had a little label spelling "guests" on it; Tokio chuckled because she informed him he should go around the back and park where her spot was, but he vehemently refused. Still, they were treated to a good view of the garden, as they passed. There was much more to be seen, to be sure, they only saw a bench and a couple of trees, as well as the green grass and the stone pathways, but he could bet there were ponds at the other side.

They got out of the car then and walked the remaining distance to the front door; it was him who offered his hand to his daughter first, but it was Tokio who saw her gaping at the size and reality of it all and put her hand in front of her mouth. When that didn't work, she gently pushed her chin upwards. That did work. And just as they came to a stop in front of the door, it opened! A sweet older woman, no older than fifty, welcomed them inside.

"Tokio-sama, if you and your esteemed guests could please follow me to the living room."

They walked corridors that were scarcely but fittingly decorated, all leading to a different room or part of the house; Aiko would turn her head around for each and every thing and the housekeeper must have thought her adorable, because she kept looking back at her, with a small smile. But then, the woman came to a stop in front of a threshold that led to another, very small corridor that must have been leading to the living room.

She bowed.

"I'll be taking my leave now; it is so good to have you back, Tokio-sama." And she was gone.

Aiko looked up at her dad. He knew that look; it meant she was riddled with anxiety—she was too young for anxiety. Why was everything so pristine and formal in this house, it put his daughter in a state? He tried to relax her by squeezing her little hand, ever so subtly, but it didn't work. No, the solution came from Tokio.

"The people we are about to meet will technically be your grandparents, once daddy and I make it official, so don't worry too much. Is your dress in place?"

Aiko looked down at herself almost alarmed, but was relieved to find it proper.

"Is your coat straight?"

"Yes."

"Are your shoes clean?"

She giggled. "You did it, this morning, kaa-san."

A warm smile graced the woman's lips. "Then what do you have to worry about?" She winked; the girl seemed to relax. "Let's go now, yes?"

Once Aiko nodded in return, they started walking. Though, with all these questions, he took time to check his tie and jacket. "You look great, too," Tokio teased him.

"Welcome, everyone. Welcome to our home."

The moment they set foot into the living room, her mother came into view, almost jumping in front of them, a wide smile on her lips. Saitou had never met her before, but he could tell this woman gave birth to the one next to him, they were spitting images, give or take thirty years. Their only glaring difference was the hair colour that the older woman chose to have it all silver. Embracing her grey hairs, he supposed and it did suit her. She was wearing a very nice skirt and jacket that almost matched her hair, too, with a black silk blouse, which completed her image perfectly.

The living room itself was spacious and...clean. As minimalist as the rest of the house, whatever furniture and decorations it had where as big as they needed to be. The tv set was huge, placed in front of the biggest couch of the two, while the large armchair was placed next to it...and was currently occupied by an older man, who was looking at them with interest and an unnerving poker face, dressed just as formally as his wife: a simple but obviously expensive black suit.

"I am so excited to meet you," the woman demanded the attention, making wandering eyes return to her "my name is Takagi Tooka, I'm Tokio's mother, hello. You must be Saitou Hajime," they bowed to one another; at that point, he saw fit to give her the chocolates they had bought, as a first-time-in-your-house gift, which she kindly took off of his hands "and this cute little angel must be Aiko-chan!"

Her voice was bigger and more enthusiastic when she turned to the child; she even knelt down to reach her height. "Am I right?"

Blushing, but equally excited, the girl nodded repeatedly. "Yes, I am; my name is Saitou Aiko, hello! You two look very much alike; you are very pretty."

"Aw," she put a hand over her heart, "you are so cute, Aiko-chan! Tokio told us you were the sweetest thing since chocolate, but we didn't believe her. Now I see we were sorely mistaken."

Aiko giggled.

"She means they made a huuuuge mistake," Tokio explained; the girl giggled more.

"And I am Takagi Kojuuro," the man finally stood from his seat, walking next to his wife "Tokio's father. It's good to finally meet you." He bowed deeply. "Now, am I going to wait forever, or will this no good daughter of mine come and kiss me?"

She shook her head, finally earning a smile from the man. "Father, I am no longer ten; maybe you see Aiko-chan and remembered what I used to be like."

"Yes, you used to be a better child and kissed your father when he asked for it." He turned to the girl. "What do you think, Aiko-chan?"

"...kaa-san should kiss you..."

Tokio clicked her tongue. "We've been here barely a minute and you're already turning my own child against me; ridiculous. Hi dad," she gave in and kissed him "how have you been? Mother," her, she kissed with less drama "I missed you."

Still, neither Tokio nor Saitou missed the way her father looked keenly at them when Aiko spoke the word "kaa-san".

"Sir," finally, Saitou was allowed to speak freely "forgive me for not coming here sooner. Allow me to properly introduce myself: my name is Saitou Hajime, detective in the third Kyoto police department. This is my daughter, Aiko; she's six."

"A little lady then! My, I will never forget when Tokio was that age. She would continuously ask me things and try to sneak into my office, to read my files."

"Father," she made a curt nod with her hand, to cut it out and then actually shushed him.

That was a bit of a touchy subject; Aiko always wanted to get into her father's papers and this would not set a good example. Her absolute tone surprised him enough to stop talking, but caused her mother to give her a look.

"Aiko seems to be doing the same lately, but good girls don't open mail or binders that aren't theirs, yes?" Saitou explained, trying to excuse Tokio's behaviour; Aiko pouted again.

"Of course; we never allowed Tokio to do it, too," her mother caught on fast.

"Nonsense! Of course we did; it was—..."

Tooka nudged her husband with her elbow, pointing as discreetly as possible to Saitou; Kojuuro seemed to make the connection then, too and shook his head. "But I wasn't the same as your dad; I'm sure he has all sorts of bad things in there that are not fit for children."

"Exactly," Tokio stressed.

"Then why don't you and grandma go to my office and look through any files that are there?"

Aiko seemed to brighten wholly. "Ah, yes," Tokio immediately allowed; it will get it out of her system, her eyes conveyed to Hajime who was about to protest and he decided he didn't mind after all.

"But you can only look at whatever Tooka-san lets you."

"Call me mother dear," she assured Hajime with a wide smile "and you can call me grandma." Tooka offered her hand to the girl, who readily took it and let go of both parents. "Let's go look at papers!"

"Why don't we sit down?"

Kojuuro showed the couches and the table; it was full of different type of coffees and teas as well as snacks. There were some juices there, too, for the child, but they left without taking anything. Well, Tooka could always call someone from the staff. Both guests preferred the small couch that was next to the armchair, but Tokio allowed Hajime to choose his seat and she was surprised to see he chose the space closest to her father.

"Took you a long time to show your face, young man."

Her father's tone and demeanour changed completely, as soon as they were left alone, a testament to the effort he put in to appear nice in front of the little girl. His eyes were calculating and drinking everything in, in alarming speeds, much like Tokio did and it always scared Hajime.

"Been dating for a year; never heard about you. I only knew who you were because Tokio explained you were one of the detectives who pursued the case of her friend. Then you propose and don't even come by to introduce yourself, how much more to ask for her hand, per custom."

"Forgive me, you are correct."

"No, he's not," Tokio stopped her father's guilt trip, seeing Hajime was the type to be susceptible. "I was explicit in my wishes to keep you two apart until I felt comfortable."

"But honey, he asked you to marry him and still didn't show his face."

"I didn't want him to, what don't you get?"

"He's a man, not a child."

"He's a man with a child and if his daughter hadn't met me, I wouldn't be confident enough to bring her here."

"He didn't have to come with Aiko-chan here for the first time. This could have been the second meeting—or tenth!"

"You're just mad he didn't come here to ask you for my hand because you didn't get to express to him, too your opposition to this union."

All talks died; her father swallowed, effectively silenced.

"Well, can you blame me?" He turned to the man. "I don't know you, you could be anyone, doing this for any number of reasons. When one has the background, upbringing and money my daughter does, I can't help but feel protective."

"You are correct, insofar I should have introduced myself earlier; both you and Tooka-san deserve as much. But to doubt my intentions like this, is at least insulting. You're implying I'm more interested in your daughter's money rather than her, but I've done nothing so far to even suggest as much. Besides, from what Tokio has told me and the rest of her relationships over the years, I think you're doing your daughter the biggest disservice, thinking her victim enough to fall for someone and something like that."

Kojuuro said nothing, simply watched him. He hadn't expected him to talk back like that. Heh, would you look at that; not only did he have a backbone, he was also eloquent. Smart, too.

"That being said, Hajime did express his wishes to meet you long before he proposed. I simply didn't want him to. And exactly because he's a grown man, he knows not to do something to annoy me for no reason."

There was a beat of silence, filled with meaningful stares, as Tokio's hand came to rest over Saitou's, in his lap, as if to end the conversation. Her father remained tactfully poker faced, again. "So then, do tell me Hajime, what does your job mainly consist of?"

"Crime scenes, interrogations, paperwork upon paperwork, seldom visits to the public prosecutor but lots of phone calls; no fixed schedule, as something can always happen...the usual."

"So, it isn't," he searched for the right word "dangerous."

"...I try not to make it." He considered. "Carrying a handgun is standard practice."

"Oh, you do have one."

"But you never bring it home," Tokio observed.

"There's been no need, so far; I've been very careful and a little lucky."

"This job of yours, other than long hours and nonsensical schedules, I suppose it offer you a way to a better one?"

Both people blinked, visibly confused, but it was Saitou who recovered first. "Pardon?"

"With all due respect, but it sounds thankless. So many work-hours put in but you don't get any benefits, other than overtime, yes?" He nodded. "And I know for a fact the salary isn't enviable. So why do you do it? Are you not capable of something bigger or is this the way to it?"

Imperceptibly, but oh so obviously to Tokio, Saitou became offended and defensive at the same time; she tried to glare at her father, try to get him to stop, but she knew Saitou would see her and she could tell, he was too proud to be helped for something like this, so she decided not to do anything drastic. Better have him fight with her father than her and Hajime, especially for no reason.

"Are you implying my work isn't worth doing by ambitious people? Or are you trying to discern whether I am ambitious enough to ditch it if something better comes along?" The word better, was laced with so much irony, it was almost painful to hear; still, Kojuuro didn't speak. "You quite clearly stated you think one would only do it if it was used as a stepping stone or a shortcut for something higher paying or rewarding."

"Well..." Just as Kojuuro was about to excuse himself, his face changed to a dry smile. "Well, yes. Are you ambitious enough to leave it behind for something better? I can see you are smart enough; are you capable?"

"I am certainly smart enough to know when someone's underestimating me, but that doesn't mean I have the patience for it. For your information, I'm thirty one years old and I've been working as a detective for nearly eight years—as soon as I finished University. Law degree, by the way," he shot, eyes small and as cold as she had never seen them before. "I was aiming for the Bureau, but as soon as Aiko came along, that goal disappeared. Ever since, I've been doing my best to maintain a safe as well as stable lifestyle to support my daughter and that includes not aiming too high. But even if she wasn't in the picture, I would have never gone for the big chair."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His voice was never raised, but he did feel twitchy, and never missed how Tokio squeezed his hand as much as she could, without it being too obvious.

"Big chairs come with a different type of duty and responsibility that I personally loathe, so no, this job isn't means to an end. I'm not doing this because I couldn't do anything else or because I failed at some other thing I tried. I do this, because I want to. If you cannot reconcile yourself with that, sir, with all due respect, it's none of my concern. I cannot change your mind for you, nor can I accept your opinion as right."

"You make in a year what she makes in a month, maybe less. Do you realise what kind of difference that is? The downgrade—"

Tokio stood, causing her father to stop talking almost in panic. "Honey, what are you—?"

"We are leaving," she stated, making an actual effort to drag Hajime along, who was still seated. "We are going to get Aiko and we're going home."

"Sweetie, why are you being like this?"

"This is the exact reason I didn't want him meeting you. You don't want to understand how shameful that is to me; your comments reflect the way I was raised." She shook her head. "He didn't bring himself here just so you can insult him under the guise of being interested about your daughter's well-being."

"Of course I'm interested!" Now her father stood, too, flabbergasted, causing Saitou to stand as well. "Why else do you think I'm doing this?"

She snorted. "The only thing you're interested in is your image."

"You take that back right now, young lady! Just because I think someone of our class is better-suited for you doesn't mean I think he'd look better on some newspaper! If you share the same experiences and—"

"This conversation is over. We're going."

"...as you wish," Saitou conceded, hands raised in a pacifying manner.

"Tokio, don't go," her father almost pleaded with her, but he still sounded a little bossy "we haven't seen you for so long, your mother is going kill me. Please, just, what do you want me to do? You look like a good man, Hajime, I admit, but other than that you have nothing to offer her. Should I be happy about it?"

The question was directed at both. Tokio was clearly not going to answer, she was too stubborn and angry. He did instead; grabbing her from the shoulder in a one-armed hug, he stopped her exit and turned her to face her father in the same motion. There was a moment of suspension, where everyone tried to talk but none did. And then, Saitou took the lead.

"Sir, I want you to understand something very well: by coming here, I was hoping to make a good impression, naturally, and maybe get to know you, her parents, as well as she knows mine. She gets on quite well with them, after all. She was reluctant to set it up, but she eventually caved, because she knew it would happen sooner or later...and maybe, she hoped for something better, too. Still, we came here to ask for your blessing; not your permission."

Impressed, a little speechless, Tokio turned to him.

"I see we won't get that right now; I can also see why she didn't want us meeting. Be that as it may, despite your preconceived notions about me, your apparent dislike of my profession and Tokio's ire, I do hope we can meet again, under better circumstances. But for now—"

He let go of Tokio and took a bow on his own; it was short but it conveyed the message.

"—have a nice evening Kojuuro-san. We shall be going."

That was it; with a challenging look from Tokio's side, a single eyebrow raised defiantly, they walked away. Her father, too stricken and defeated – or selfish, if anyone asked Tokio – to run after them, watched them go into the corridors, heading for his office and Saitou's daughter.

"You know," Tokio started, as soon as they were out of earshot "that was pretty brave of you."

He was sure she had put on a show for her father, but it turned out she was actually upset; yes, she overplayed it in front of the man, but it was evident it annoyed her, his jabs, his comments, his whole demeanour. She was smirking at him, legitimately impressed, looking at him in a way she hadn't looked at him before; a little mischievous, a little suggestive.

He shrugged. "I don't have the patience to deal with people like that; if he's willing to tone it down, I'll be glad to come back."

"I noticed." Her smirked became crooked; he caught it with the edge of his eyes and rolled them. "I won't lie, that was kind of hot, detective. I wouldn't mind doing my taxes with you."

The realisation was immediate; he drew a sharp breath, looking at her a little bothered but at her stifled laughter, he only looked away, slightly abashed. "Behave," he decided to berate her in the end, nearly as strict as he would have wanted.

After that, the mirth died out though. She became somber, gradually, as her steps were less and less hurried. "I am sorry about dad," she grunted, almost embarrassed. "Even I did not expect such deplorable behaviour. This is a new low, even for him."

"...I won't pretend I didn't mind, but I will give him only one excuse: I think he was being very honest about being worried about your future. Don't be too hard on him."

"Is this some ridiculous fatherhood thing?"

He grinned, but avoided to answer. "Be hard; just not too hard. I'd like to think that if I ever were in his shoes, Aiko wouldn't just stand up and leave..."

"You wouldn't be so rude, though."

"You never know." Her astonished chuckle was cute. "I do hope to have more faith in my daughter than doubt her decisions so much."

For the second time this day he found the heart of the problem so accurately and effortlessly, it hurt her to her core. He was quite insightful, much more than she gave him credit for. Her smirk was bitter, to match the truth he so carelessly spoke. Then, she shook her head, coming to a stop in front of a door. Putting on her most believable smile, she slid the door open.

"Why, hello there you two!" She managed to sound upbeat, good for her. He walked in after her, once he made sure his expression was neutral enough. "Are you having fun, looking through granddad's papers?"

"Yes! Daddy, daddy, do you have your own seal, too?" He nodded; she was amazed. "Kaa-san, too?"

"I do, baby! Wanna see it?" She nodded excited. "Let's go see it, then. But, I'm afraid we're going to have to leave. My seal is at home; so is daddy's."

"O-oh..."

Her mother looked at her suspiciously in record time; when she looked behind them, to see if her husband would show up and he didn't, she understood everything, for the most part.

"Tomorrow is a work day after all; we have to wake up early. But we'll come back on a Friday or a Saturday so you can explore the entire house, how about that?" Tokio sugarcoated it as much as she could and of course it worked. The promise to return was most encouraging.

"Say goodbye to Tooka-san, little plum."

"I'll walk you to the front door, we say our goodbyes there."

And so it happened. They said nothing about why they were leaving so soon, nor did Tooka ask, but she didn't need to. She was a smart woman after all. She simply kept up conversation with Aiko and kept her occupied enough to allow the adults to communicate, even wordlessly, about what they were going to tell her.

"Goodbye, grandma-san," she bid her goodbye as soon as the woman opened the front door; she smiled at Aiko brilliantly. Saitou could see where Tokio took it from.

"Goodbye, little kitten. We'll see each other again, soon." She booped her nose and Aiko giggled; then, she turned to her daughter and her fiance. "You, too. Ah, I didn't get to see you at all." She pulled Tokio in for a quick hug. "And I didn't speak with you at all, too; I wanted to ask so many questions, especially since my own child has kept me in the dark for so long."

"You can always come visit us; I'll be more than happy to receive you, Tooka-san. Though, I fear, if that happens, you'll have to endure the company of my mother, too. I don't think she'd pass this opportunity up."

The woman laughed, covering Tokio's absolute shock at his proposal, but not the way Aiko's little head snapped up at him. "It would be my pleasure to meet her."

"Perfect; I am certain we can work the details out through Tokio. Thank you for having us," he bowed to her. "Until we meet again."

She nodded. "Have a safe trip home."

Once they got to the car, Aiko exploded! She was ready to burst, buzzing with excitement at her father's words, but now that they were alone, she could bombard him with all the questions she wanted.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy, are you serious? We invited grandma-san home? She can come visit us? When? Will we have to wear special clothes then, too? We should get snacks! Does she drink chocolate? I should show her to my room, she'll like it!"

"She loves chocolate, actually," Tokio informed her, all smiles "and sweet snacks. When she comes, you and I are going to choose what we think best."

Aiko cheered; Saitou couldn't help the smile.

"But we don't have to wear something too special; just nice clothes."

"Aw, I see."

"But we'll definitely show her around the house, your room included." Then, she turned back to look at her. "But you must answer me this: why call her grandma-san?"

"Because she's grandma number three of course."

By the time they arrived home, Aiko was exhausted and didn't stay awake too long, even if it was only nine. They put her to sleep in record time and then, they could finally talk. Heaving deep, long sighs, they both sat back on their couch at the same time. Defeated, she put her head on his shoulder.

"That went well," she mocked.

"So well," he corroborated. They shared a chuckle. "At least now he's told me all of...that to my face, so we know where we stand." She nodded. "Imagine if I didn't have Aiko with me, though." Her tired laugh followed. "At least I now know where you take it from."

"Take what from?"

"That inherent belief you're always right."

Her eyes became very small as she turned them to him; her balled fist found his chest, but with no power behind it. She could see he was joking, but at the same time he was very serious, too; looking away, she put more force into her lean and put her arm around his.

"Father can be very...insensitive. And I know you think he's this classist bourgeois prick, but he isn't, not really. Mom was poor; so was brother's wife."

"Really?" She nodded. "Then why the attitude?"

She shrugged."When Tsuki, my sister, got married, he gave them her inheritance. At the time, her husband wasn't rich, but had his sights on business and father took a risk by trusting him and entrusting him with my sister. He didn't succeed in the end, but he and sister are very much in love, so it's fine, he doesn't mind."

"So it's only your significant other he has an issue with." She said nothing. "My, you really are the favourite." She really didn't like the sound of that, lips already pursing. "What else do you want me to say?"

"I'm just so mortified; I wasn't raised like that. He isn't like that in general, just..."

"Just when it has to do with you." She made noises; he chuckled. "Then maybe you have a chance to be heard; just pick the right person."

"For now, it's you and he disapproves." She clicked her tongue. "I don't know why; comparatively to the people I've dated up till now you're by far the best choice."

He smirked. "First your comment at your parents' house, now this...Tokio are you hitting on me?"

"Yes, obviously."

She said it without a shred of irony and so naturally, he almost believed her; then, a chuckle escaped her and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Let's just...relax tonight. No work." Her curt hand gesture sealed it. "No laptops, no papers, nothing. Just, I don't know, what do you wanna do?"

"Honestly? Not a thing." She actually sat up proper and raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't want to go to sleep yet, but I don't want to do anything."

"...we're going to have a brief discussion about what we're going to do tomorrow and then we'll do something relaxing."

She fetched her book and a hot cup of tea. "What do you think we should do tomorrow?"

"...movie sounds promising."

"Did you have a particular movie in mind?" He shook his head. "Hmm, then I raise you this: how about we go to the theater instead?" He was not convinced. "I haven't been to a show for a long time, it will be fun; and after that we go straight to my mystery canteen?" His smile was all the verification she needed. "Great; I'll call your mother to pick Aiko up."

"Why not you?"

"I'll be preparing for the date, as if it was any other date."

"Then I'll take her."

"Are you sure?"

"It's a way to leave early from work, too."

She shrugged. "Everything is settled then. Now," she propped her feet up on the table and sat back deeply. "Let's read. Oh, the tea is for you. Drink something healthy for once, it won't kill you." He soured. "You're still Japanese yes?"

He would not lie; as far as awkward, unprecedented circumstances went, it could have gone much worse for him. Taking a sip, he closed his eyes, savouring the taste. It was a long time since he drank any—or smoked, for that matter. He had managed to stop smoking at home, for Aiko's health, but he'd have one or two at work. And now, it'd been two days he went without, due to all kinds of reasons. And he really wanted one...

"What is it?" As if sensing his problem, she had put her book aside for a moment to look at him properly.

He thought about it for a moment. "...you mind if I open the window?"

"No."

He soon found himself in front of the open kitchen window, his pack and a lighter in his hand. He took one out, put it in his mouth and lit it.

"You smoke?"

"Nearly as much as I'd like."

"That's a good thing, right?"

He said nothing; simply enjoyed a long drag. Heh. Watching him indulge in something was so rare; it felt like she was intruding in a very personal moment, so she kindly looked away.

He noticed.

"Didn't know you were gunning for the Bureau, though," she commented absently.

But if she remembered, that much later, it wasn't as nonchalant as she had wanted it to be. "I was, even before we got pregnant; once we did, Yaso and I agreed that I'd apply there formally after Aiko turned two, no earlier than that. But then...yeah and the bureau was the least of my concerns. Besides, detective work is important and I do find it fulfilling, otherwise I'd have quit."

"I see."

Silence fell between them.

Tokio sat there, reading, digesting the information. She had met him as a detective and he always looked like he loved what he did; it had never crossed her mind he had other plans for himself that were put on definite hold because of his wife's passing. She knew it affected every part of his life, naturally...just not to what extent. She could not fathom a future for herself that she didn't do exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it—he, on the other hand, had to watch more than one dream die. It was painful.

It was painful just remembering it; and he hadn't talked about this for a very long time...last time he did, actually, was when he went to Hijikata to ask him to withdraw his name from the potential candidates. The man hadn't asked why, he was no idiot, but he did double-check to make sure that's what he had truly wanted. He had appreciated that; he was surrounded by good, stand-up people, who were there for him after Yaso died.

Yaso; he always steered clear of any mention of her. Shit; his head was a mess now.

Two more cigarettes later, he proceeded to close the window and pour himself a glass of water. Then, he idly walked back to the sofa, sitting right next to her, even is she was on the far end. He leaned his back on her side.

"What are you reading?"

"It's a detective story. Want to know what it's about?"

"No, thank you." She looked at him, curious; he decided to elaborate. "I hate the inaccuracies, the bad police work; the contamination of evidence; the complete disregard of any sort of chain of command or actual orders and how they never get fired or even in trouble for it, despite only making trouble for the other detectives and their superiors."

She laughed. "You have a lot to say about it." He non-verbally agreed, running a hand through his hair. "Then just...relax, Hajime. It's a rare moment."

And indeed it was. He closed his eyes, and let his thoughts run wild, so much so, he didn't notice he had started falling back, he was basically lying in her lap. He only realised when she had to go to the bathroom. But when she came back, seeing he had been too tired to move, she didn't move him, no; she just raised his head and let it fall back into her lap once she was settled. Unperturbed, she started playing with his hair. He almost fell asleep.

Then the time came to actually go to bed and he had to stand. Ah damn, it'd been really nice.

She, per usual, used the bathroom first and when he came back, was already tucked in. She too must have been exhausted, because he realised she had drifted off, when he barely spent five minutes in the bathroom. He lay next to her, watching her sleep; she looked peaceful.

"Goodnight Tokio."

"G'dnight Hajime," she murmured back.

Like muscle memory, as soon as she heard his voice, she started reaching out, blindly. When she found what she was looking for, him, she brought him a little closer and curled right under his arm. A small sigh of content escaped her lips when he put his it around her and her leg wrapped around his in succession. A little self-conscious, but nearly as uncomfortable as he would have wanted, he drifted off to sleep, too.

Next morning, he woke up first and found himself lying on her chest, her left hand embracing him. Mortified, to be so close to such an intimate part, he extricated himself immediately, stood and went to prepare breakfast all at once. Naturally, he didn't go into the trouble of waking her up since she had her own alarm clock, but he did become curious when his second alarm went off, signaling he had to wake his daughter up, and Tokio never made it out of the bedroom.

Curious, he went to check on her, only to find her still sleeping, cellphone nowhere to be found. She must have forgotten it in her purse. With big strides, he reached her and shook her awake. "Tokio, it's late."

"'s not," she complained, hugging her pillow closer, "the alarm hasn't gone off yet."

"Because it's not here; I just woke up Aiko."

That did the trick; she stood so fast she almost knocked heads with him. "Shit."

The day passed them by without realising. Hajime and Aiko left before her, seeing she was running late and did not want to take the other two down with her; simply kissed both of them goodbye and hurried to get ready. Thankfully, she was on work on time. Where her father was; that she wasn't speaking to—at least not entirely. She would email him about work or even visit the office when needed, but nothing else. Then she had a mini press conference that sucked away many hours in prep and actually going through with it. She went back to her own office then and countless people stopped by, from the company, to ask a question or for a favour. She received them all. She barely had time to answer her phone, around two, when Saitou called.

"Hey Hajime," she tried sounding as upbeat as possible.

"Hey," his amused tone made her feel a little better "hanging in there?"

"Yes, just fine; what do you need?"

"Okita's asking what time should he come over?"

"Oh right, I didn't tell you. I got us tickets for the eight o'clock showing, he should be there around seven. Remind him to bring his p-js."

He suppressed a laugh. "See you later."

"Bye bye."

It felt like it was only ten minutes later when she looked at the time, but it'd been three hours—time to leave. Her appointment was in half an hour anyway and she needed twenty minutes to get from work to the beauty salon. Oops, she almost forgot. Taking out her cellphone, as she put on a coat, she found the number she was looking for. Thank Buddha, the reception wasn't entirely shot in the elevator.

"Hey Yumi, how are you? It's Tokio, yes. Do you have an opening today? Oh perfect. Yeah, it's my apartment, it needs to be cleaned. Give extra attention to the bathroom and bedroom; yeah, I'll let the people know to let you in. I you could restock the fridge I'd appreciate it. Of course I will. Aha, okay; yeah. Oh I'm so sorry...! I love, love, love you for doing this in such a short notice—I'll pay you double, I swear. Bye."

Then she called the doormen in her old apartment complex and building to let them know and allow Yumi upstairs. With the last of the loose ends taken care of, she headed to her appointments without a care in the world. She emerged from the beauty salon an hour later, feeling refreshed. Other than the essentials – waxing and plugging her eyebrows – she indulged in a bit of a therapeutic massage, too and she felt like this was the best decision she had made the last month.

"Hello people," she saluted, as soon as she came in.

"Kaa-san, you're late!" Aiko jumped over the couch, disregarding her father's protest and admonition, and rushed to hug her legs. "Welcome back," she finally said, as she kept squeezing.

"Good to be back."

"Mmm, you smell nice!"

She chuckled. "Thank you, sweetie. Hajime," she acknowledged him as he came, offering her cheek.

He did kiss her. "She's right, you do smell nice."

"Why thank you. It's for tonight."

"Lucky me."

"What's tonight, kaa-san?"

"Daddy and I are going out, sweetie, just the two of us."

"Aw, not me?"

"You'll stay home with Souji."

"Jii-san!" she completed, excited. "Souji-jii-san is coming here tonight."

Both adults smiled at one another. "At least she's happy about it," she commented. "Now, let's eat; I'll make extra for Souji and for you two for tomorrow."

"Oh, I already did," he waved her surprise away "I hadn't been home early for so long, I had to do something to pass the time."

"Alright!"

After late lunch, early dinner, she tidied up a little bit and put the food in containers for tomorrow; whatever was left, it was for Okita and Aiko to eat this evening. Unsurprisingly, Okita came earlier than he was supposed to, half an hour in fact, so it was Hajime who had to open the door for him, seeing Tokio was not ready yet.

"My oh my, look at that suit," he teased, right after he had let go of Aiko "looking sharp, friend. Where are you going?"

"Theater."

"Nice," he commented, but he couldn't help looking at the suit. "I've never seen this before, have I? Love this shade of blue..."

"No, you haven't; no, it isn't new. Stop staring."

"It's a nice colour."

Aiko shook her head. "No, it isn't; I liked that other one better." That other one referred to the "watered-down kappa" suit, as Tokio had dubbed it; both men tried not to laugh.

"Mamma doesn't though," Okita confided in her "so daddy can't wear it tonight; maybe some other day." He looked around. "Where is she—still getting ready?"

Hajime rolled his eyes. "Yes; has been for the past hour, in fact."

"Good things take time," they heard her voice from the bedroom .

He raised his hands desperate. "She's been saying that half an hour now."

Okita laughed. "Hang in there."

Ten minutes later, they heard the door open. She was heard struggling, trying not to swear; Okita laughed again. "Come on out Tokio-chan, let's see you."

She finally walked out the room, looking quite annoyed.

Oh shit, both men thought at the same time for different reasons, she's beautiful.

She had chosen to wear a bold mint green coloured dress, not really maxi but it went lower than her knee. Its fabric hugged her curves closely but it thankfully stayed in its place; there was a slit from just below her thigh, going all the way down. The impressive part was that where the slit started, an embroidered line of pink sakura petals, encased in blue stitching, ended. The line started from the left side of the collar of the dress, and descended in an "S" pattern to her right thigh.

It had no sleeves, only some lace and tulle bunched together, in the same shade as the rest of the dress. In her one hand she had her clutch, a nice deep blue colour; in the other hand she had her coat, most probably, because it was big and the same shade of blue.

"This...old thing was nowhere to be found! Nowhere! I knew where I put it; but when I looked for it, it wasn't there."

Saitou swallowed the knot in his throat and instead of voicing all those things he wanted, simply asked "so where was it?"

"...where I'd put it. I just couldn't see it."

Both men burst out laughing. She shook her head, defeated. But then Aiko broke through the men's wall, to get to her, but she stopped short, as soon as she looked at her. "You look gorgeous kaa-san," she said, starstruck.

"Aw, thank you sweetie." She squatted just to hug her and kiss the top of her head. "Well, I'm ready; putting shoes on and we're good to go."

"How does she know that word?" Okita wondered, amused. "But I have to agree. Wow, Tokio-chan."

"We taught her that word two days ago, when she tried her lovely dress and she looked every single variation of it." Ah. "And thank you, Souji. Help me put this on, honey," she handed Hajime the coat and he readily obliged.

But it wasn't a coat in the end; well, it was, but it wasn't. It had the texture and the hardness of one, but it had weird sleeves; and no buttons on the front either.

"It's a cape," she explained amused, seeing both wonder what the hell was going on "see? These slits are for the hands and this falls over it, as if it were a sleeve. Simple."

"That's everything but simple, but whatever; it looks very fitting with the rest."

The embroidered pink sakura blossoms on the one side of the coat, made him believe she either bought it like that on purpose, or she had it done later.

"Kaa-san looks like a fairy!"

"Thank you, Aiko-chan."

"Like those women we see on the front of magazines."

"Hardly." She laughed and petted her head. "Hajime, honey, don't forget to take the suitcase to the car." Then she turned to their babysitter. "Souji, thank you very much for being here; I promise to make it up to you."

"No need; I love spending time with Aiko-chan. She is the cutest girl in the world, so who wouldn't?" Aiko giggled. "And you need this; go. Have an amazing time, on my behalf as well."

"Will do; thank you, again."

"Bye," Saitou kissed his daughter farewell for good measure just as he had retrieved the small suitcase "and don't bring down the house while we're away."

Okita grinned. "I can't make any promises."

Shaking their heads, they left, just after Saitou helped Tokio in her impressive blue stilettos that had vines of pink metal attached to the heel and some of the side.

"You look very eye-catching," he commented, once they were inside her car, which she let him drive, as a sign of good faith, as well as not wanting to change shoes. "But if I knew you had me wear the certain suit so people would look at you more, I wouldn't have worn it."

She threw her back, laughing; he had started liking the way she closed her eyes, wrinkles forming around them, nose twitching. He also loved how she shook entire, by the joy, laugh boisterous.

"I did no such thing. You are not a child, we don't need to match. It just so happened to be the suit I liked the most. It's depth of colour is amazing...!" She actually reached out and caressed the fabric on the chest area. "And the texture is great. All cotton, right?" He nodded. "It feels like it." She smirked. "The ice grey vest underneath is also..." She kissed her three fingertips. "I have excellent taste, after all. And the Burgundy tie is the perfect addition."

"Well, you picked it out, you would like it."

"I do; and you wear it very nicely! It's the height, I swear. You'd look great in anything."

"Thanks?"

She smiled. "It's not a compliment—I mean, it is but that's not why I said it; you could try wearing a lot of different things, you don't have to be so conservative. Even that" she shivered "ridiculous coloured suit wasn't all that horrible. Be daring—not watered-down-kappa daring, choose something else."

"I'll keep it in mind."

.

"...why did it have to be three hours long?"

They had just got back into the car, once the play was over, Hajime once again in the driver's seat, exhaling after his question. She knew he was tired, so was she, but that didn't stop her from turning her eyes to him, small and lethal. "If you hadn't slept through half of it, you'd know."

"I did no such thing," he denied instantly.

"I saw you jump when the crowd collectively gasped at the big twist." It was his turn to avert his eyes. "Oh yeah, now you keep silent."

"What do you want from me? You said it was boring yourself."

"No," she vehemently contradicted him "I said they wasted too much time setting up the second act and they should have either made everyone a protagonist or a deuteragonist; if anything, the way the stretched out the first act, they should have an additional hour to wrap up all loose ends." She shook her head. "But I never said it was boring."

He rolled his eyes, starting the car. "I'm sorry I don't want to write an entire essay on what I just watched."
"If you hadn't missed half of it, we could have at least talked about it more than just oh it's boring and no it isn't! And you didn't let me talk about it with the rest; it's custom to do that," she explained at his questioning look. "I barely spent fifteen minutes there."

"...you do realise there were photographers that kept trying to snap a picture, right?" She clicked her tongue. "I was standing right next to you."

"Paparazzi tend to do that in these types of gatherings. I'm a well-known personality."

He gave her a very annoyed and unimpressed look, when he got to look away from the road. "I don't want to be a headline."

"Oh please, what headline? These things barely sell; the internet is all the rage nowadays..."

"Big difference."

Neither was backing down from their argument and neither wanted to keep a conversation going. But they had one more place to go and he had no idea where that was. "You gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Make a right and then an immediate left."

The rest of the way, she spent begrudgingly giving him directions, while he begrudgingly followed them. When they arrived there, the first thing that caught his eye was the light that came from within a truck, open in the middle, and a man stood there, cooking and conversing with patrons at the same time. He looked higher to see a long sign that read Curry on Wheels in red letters on white canvas. There were wooden tables all around it, where people with bowls sat and ate. And all of that, was ran by a lone old man, wearing a short sleeved white tee, with a formidable mustache and a kind countenance.

Saitou parked, secured the car and helped her out.

"Is that little Tokio I'm seeing there?" the old man squinted while preparing a dish.

"Kouda-san!" she exclaimed, attempting to run towards him.

When she saw that was next to impossible with the shoes she had chosen to wear, she contented herself to grabbing onto Hajime and pacing fast, seeing he was willing to accommodate her, to reach the canteen.

"It's been so long! I feared I'd lost my best customer."

She laughed. "Life got in the way; but I'm back again."

"And not alone I see. Who may you be, young man?"

Kouda-san finished preparing the last bowl and handed it to the man who was waiting; next in line was them, so they simply came to the very front. As they came closer to the light, the old man looked impressed. "Look at those clothes; you were somewhere fancy, eh? Then I know just what to make. Tell me young man, what's your name and do you like spicy things?"

"Saitou Hajime; moderate spicy."

"I see; now I know what to prepare." He started gathering ingredients. "You two a couple?"

"Engaged," Hajime explained as she held up her hand, separating her ring finger "recently."

"That's why you couldn't make it! And why didn't she ever bring you here before you two decided to tie the knot?"

She laughed. "What if it didn't work out? He'd know my favourite secret place and it wouldn't be so special anymore."

"How convoluted of you, little Tokio. But take heart," the old man actually struck Hajime on the arm, encouragingly "she brought you here after all. You must have done something right."

"Oh, yes, I have no complaints. He's—he's all I could ever ask for." She grabbed him by the cheeks with one hand and squeezed.

"He puts up with you admirably, at the very least," Kouda commented amused and the two men laughed, with Tokio shaking her head amused. "Congratulations to you two then! May you have a happy life together. Here are your bowls."

If she could have rubbed her hands together, she would have, so much she was looking forward to it. Saitou took both bowls and they slowly walked to the only table that was empty and sat down to eat. While there, both were too preoccupied with actually eating, given they were very hungry, that they didn't say anything. Once they had finished, Saitou took the bowls back to the man and paid for the food.

He had to admit, it was honestly filling; and just as hot as it needed to be; and pretty delicious. She was right, this was a great place for a quick meal. Still, for one reason or the other, they didn't say much on the ride home, only commented on the food or Kouda-san himself, or how Saitou found it extremely funny he called her little Tokio. She had laughed and said it was due to the fact she went there since she was in University. Then they reached her apartment complex, and he had to wait to let be allowed in and then find somewhere to park and retrieve the suitcase from the trunk and oh Buddha, they were finally home...!

At half past twelve. No wonder he felt so tired.

"What did you pack?"

"Nightclothes for the both of us; toothbrushes, my night creams; underwear; and clothes for tomorrow—can't leave bright and early, wearing this." She gestured at both of them. "Not when we can change."

She was ready for everything, impressive. "Then I'll be going to change." He took pause. "Where is that anyway?"

She only just realised he had only spent one evening in this house and even then, he was confined in the living room. "Will I find it before the sun rises?" he asked again, as he was taking out clothes.

"Oh hush," she smacked his arm "you go straight ahead, find the hall, walk all the way to its end and that door leads to the bedroom; the bathroom is the first door on your right."

"Good to know."

She found it fit to change there, since he was going to take some time; she slipped out of her dress and stockings and right into her favourite black nightgown and robe combination. One could call it...racy, but she couldn't help it, she hadn't worn it for a very long time! And it was just the two of them, no child to worry about making a bad impression on, or setting a bad example for.

When he reemerged, wearing his usual black and blue nightclothes, he almost took pause when he saw her. She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What?" she asked, as if she didn't know why he was staring, but actually very aware.

"What are you wearing?"

"My favourite nightgown?" she tried to play it off cool and innocent.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what else?"

"Nothing else."

"Precisely; don't you think you should wear something more modest?" She shook her head no. "Tokio, we sleep in the same bed; don't be so trusting." Especially not after the thoughts he just had.

"But I haven't worn this in ages! Look how pretty it is; I can't have it hang there uselessly."

It was; very pretty. In fact, pretty wasn't the word he'd use to describe it—and that was precisely the problem. "Tokio, the entirety of this very long robe is see-through and it has feathers at the end; it doesn't even have sleeves. And the nightgown underneath is short, though thankfully not see-through."

"Silk isn't see-through," she stated as an absolute.

"Great; change. The damn robe is dragging on the floor—this isn't something to wear so casually. This should be reserved for special nights."

"This is a special night." The are-you-kidding-me glare he shot her was unparalleled. She chuckled. "You know what I mean." He didn't stop. "Don't give me that. I wore this because I never get to wear it home because it's...well, like this; don't ruin it for me, I'm finally kicking back. I've been wired two weeks now, come on." She grabbed him by the arm, leading him to the couch. "Come on, Hajime...!" She sat him down, her right next to him. "Come on...!"

He leaned a little away from her, just as she knocked her shoulder with his, look suspicious. "I'm still not having sex with you."

She rolled her eyes, chin falling on her hand as she crossed her legs. "Then don't" her eyes slid to him "I doubt you remember how to anyway."

"Hey!"

He sounded a little offended, but mostly amused; she was having none of it though. "What? You know I'm right."

"I couldn't go around dating women, you know. I do have a child."

A challenging look greeted him, eyebrow raised. "Look, I get it; the only thing more traditional than you must be the koi fish in some lord's pond, so I'm not judging the lack of sex. I'm simply expressing my confusion at your complete lack of interest in a romantic partner for six years."

"Well, considering my wife died and I had to take care of a baby..."

"Honestly, I can't imagine your loss; I lost my best friend a year ago and I still feel like shit just remembering him. I get it, it's fucked up. But you never even attempted to go on, did you?"

He stood a little straighter, finally serious. "I..." He looked away. "I don't want Aiko not to know her mother."

"How often do you talk about her then?" He was taken by surprise at that question. "Exactly; because it hurts remembering her, almost just as much as knowing Aiko will grow up without ever meeting her." She saw he was becoming uncomfortable and decided to lay off a little. Heaving a little sigh, she focused on his face. "It's a noble sentiment, wanting Aiko to know her birth mother, but you don't have to suffer for it."

"I'm not suffering."

"Okay," she said after heaving a long sigh "sure."

It seemed like she stopped caring about it. He was relieved. "I think I'm going to sleep now."

"I'm coming, too." He was not amused; she reverted back to teasing. "You can't escape me."

"I'm pretty sure I can; this place is bigger than the entire floor we live on."

She laughed as she followed after him, but gave him a look full of meaning as her mirth died down. "Don't sound so condescending; I live in your house and it ain't small."

He shook his head, just as he opened the door to the bedroom, which was huge and it looked even bigger as it now housed his old bed and not hers. "My house is just as big as it was supposed to be, even if looks a little bigger now. It's because," a pained expression came over his face "it has its reasons."

"Heh, I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"You bought that house with other plans." He took a deep breath but in the end said nothing. "A couple of more children maybe?"

"Tokio, don't." There was an odd pressure in his chest. "There's no point talking about this. I was young when I bought that house; I had my whole life ahead of me...we both did. It just so happened that fate had other plans for us, so, it doesn't matter. Give it a rest."

She had to blink to process this. "...Hajime, you're still young."

Scratch that, she could not process this.

"Forget the entire previous conversation; what do you think of yourself?" She could not fathom he legitimately believed such things. "You're thirty one years old," she spelled out for him. "You got married very young; you still have your entire life ahead of you—only this once you have more experience and you know how shitty life can be. There's no reason you can't have two, three more children, if that's what you want. Yes, you were cheated out of one very certain happily ever after. Yaso is gone. But you aren't. And you can still have a happily ever after, just, sadly, not with her."

He would not look at her, but she didn't try to make him. There was something so calm and questioning, disbelieving in her voice, he didn't have the heart to tell her to stop again. It felt like she was genuinely speaking her mind on the matter in general, and that somehow hurt more.

"Hajime." Her tone demanded attention. "She's gone." She repeated only that, looking at him in a very honest, but cruel way. "And she's not coming back. So stop living your life as if she is about to walk through that door."

She didn't know why, but she felt like crying; he was looking at her, but he wasn't seeing her. And he just kept staring at her like that, not speaking, not reacting in any kind of way. Ah shit, she had talked too much; he was going to shut down again. There was shortness of breath and she had to take some fresh air. Feeling ignored as well as having that sickening thought she overstepped her boundaries, she stood, unable to stay still any longer.

She bent low only for a second, to kiss his forehead, hoping to salvage some of the situation, and left the room entirely.

Oh, she really needed the air. She practically ran all the way to the living room and climbed a small, nearly hidden staircase that led to a door; once through it, it led to another door that hid the roof behind it. She was the only one with access to it, her and the maintenance manager. She crushed into the heavy-duty door, typing the digits in a hurry, praying it would work; she didn't wait to see if it was accepted, she simply pushed and she was relieved to see it hadn't changed since she left and, finally, she was out in the open!

Once up there, ah, bliss; all of her troubles and worries seemed to be blown away with the wind...that wasn't all that strong. It was a sweet night, in fact, not too cold, either. Rubbing her face raw helped, too. She dared not edge close, it was too high up, but she did allow herself to look into the horizon. Everything was black for a long stretch of buildings; no windows with lights on, no night owls. Only the streets were lit, in an otherworldly glow.

And then it was the biggest street on that side of Kyoto and then everything was illuminated! The nightlife in full bloom, as restaurants, bars and other sort of places kept their patrons entertained. She sighed. This was underwhelming. Although it had always helped her before tonight wasn't the same. Not when her guilt was mounting with each passing second. She acted as if she knew everything, but she only knew the man for a month, damn it! The year that preceded it did not count, they were simple acquaintances. So what right did she have to—...? To say all those things, how presumptuous of her. Even if he needed to hear it, she should not be the one to say it. He had Okita, all those colleagues who were worried enough about him to get him drunk and come spy on her for that; his parents even.

But not her.

Taking a deep breath, she felt the cold air in her lungs; the scent of industrial heating invaded her nostrils. Ugh, she hated it. But not the sweet aroma of a cooked delicacy from somewhere; hmm, it must have been mochi cake.

"Tokio, what are you doing up here?"

A voice she did not expect to hear again so soon snapped her out of it; her head turned to the door, to see the man, looking confounded. "You'll freeze to death, come on down." But she didn't. Instead, she turned back to the city sprawling right in front of her.

"I've been looking all over for you," he held accusation in his voice, as he walked over; she felt something heavy fall over her shoulders "I thought you'd left. Lucky I saw the stairs—you're ice cold."

"I'm fine," she tried to assure him and caught his hand.

She never should have done it because when he felt the difference between temperatures, he almost grabbed her. "That's it, we're going."

"No, really," she resisted him but not too much "I'm fine."

"Tokio, you're wearing close to nothing and it's freezing." He had her almost through the door; only a little left now. "Get in, we're going back."

"But..."

"No buts."

He rushed her down the staircase, once he closed both doors shut and had her sit on the couch with his coat draped over her. "Don't take it off," he barked "I'm making you a chamomile. That should warm you up."

"Hajime, I'm fine," she chuckled "really."

"You are white as a sheet. Why the hell would you go up there?"

"I was only trying to give you space."

He thundered her. "Change continents next time, why don't you?" She chuckled again. "Don't laugh, it only makes me angrier. As if the living room isn't a block away anyway." She laughed this once; he shook his head, slowly mellowing out. "You've never been so moody before," he lamented. She heard him draw near. "Here," he shoved a hot cup in her hands and sat right next to her. "We're not going anywhere until you've drunk all of it."

"What are you, my mother?"

"Maybe I should have called her, since you're acting like a child." She waved him away. "Drink, idiot." Finally, she did. "Slowly."

"You're such a worrywart." He said nothing, only looked up in desperation; she pursed her lips. "Your theatrics put those we saw on stage to shame."

He snorted. "Anything would," he quipped and she actually had to laugh. "Besides, you have a nerve, talking about theatrics."

A chuckle followed; she drunk some more. But with warmth came guilt. Feeling everything at once, she leaned on his shoulder, exhaling. "I'm sorry for saying all those things. I didn't want to upset you."

His eyes on her were keen but there was a glint there. "Are you sorry you said it because you feel it wasn't your place or because you weren't entirely honest?"

He did to her what she had done to him; touche. She smiled. "...the first."

"Then don't be." Just as she drew a breath to say something more, he stopped her; he had more things at stake at this reveal than her after all, he'd be damned if he allowed her to gloat. "Drink so we can go to sleep. I'm tired."

"...fair enough."

Five minutes later, they were in the bedroom and she removed the robe. "Tokio, please put something on or turn up the heat; you'll really freeze," he advised as he pulled the cover.

"...I didn't bring anything else with me," she admitted miserable. "And there's no point in turning the heat on." She lay down next to him. "It'll take too long to heat the entire house and the smart system for each room is dead; we were going to fix it, but I left..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." There was a sigh. "Come here."

He offered his arms; she seemed confused.

"Come here, you idiot," he beckoned and in an effort to simplify things, he grabbed and dragged her close. Realising what he meant a moment too late, she made things easier by bringing her hands and feet inside, making herself cozy in his embrace. "Is this better?" She nodded. "What were you thinking, really? It's ten degrees colder up there at least, we're very high up." She made noises. "You really are an idiot; I hope you know." She grunted in reply. "I'm glad you and I agree." She pinched his side. "I can just turn the other way—"

"No!" She huffed at his self-satisfied superiority. "You're warm."

He sighed; he didn't know why he was doing this. He didn't know why he was so upset on the first place. "I know..." Slowly, he felt drifting off. "Goodnight, Tokio."

"Goodnight Hajime."

Next morning came too soon, if anyone asked him.

Looking at his watch, it read eight past eight. Too soon...he was comfortable and felt at ease, the warmth of the blanket taking its full effect. Besides, they got to sleep too late yesterday night—and not because of him. What was she thinking? He was scared half to death when he saw her up there. He was moderately scared from when he emerged from the bedroom and she was nowhere to be found to begin with. Just like that night when he shared some of his troubles with her and for some reason he couldn't articulate, it was the same last night, too. He wanted to tell her to stay out of it, it was none of her business; then he wanted to tell her to just have mercy, why did she have to be so real; and then he wanted to thank her, because he saw: what she said betrayed actual interest in his emotional well-being, not just a superficial feel-good attitude.

But again, nothing came out.

Then she stormed out of the room and he was relieved the tirade stopped but it only lasted a moment for it took less than half a minute to regret not telling her to stay or not stopping her. He was really screwing this up for himself every turn of the way. And she was going above and beyond. She didn't have to be so nice and caring when they were alone, but she never became cold or distant with him just because the acting was over. And yet, he treated her as if she were.

Fuck it.

He may have been a lot of things, but coward wasn't one of them. He pushed off the bed and left the room. He knocked on the bathroom door, she wasn't there; searched all of the rooms, nowhere. Huh. He rushed to the living room; no. Wait...what? What if...what if she left—had enough and just walked out? She had money on her. She could easily go to a hotel, it wasn't unheard of. But then again she wouldn't have gone in her nightgown, and he saw the clothes she'd been wearing neatly laid out on the couch and her clothes for tomorrow in the suitcase. He grew worried. Could she have been somewhere and he did not see her? What if something had happened?

With mounting concern, he turned to the—oh. What was that? Was that stairs? Where did they lead? Following them, he found a small and then large door; pushing it open, finding it wasn't really closed, he felt another type of relief wash over him; but when he lay eyes on her, he wanted to snap. It was freezing! What was she thinking coming up here in that flimsy thing?

He didn't know if it was a women thing or her thing—being this dramatic but he easily brought her down and made sure she was warm enough so he didn't have any intrusive thoughts when he too went to sleep and now it was morning and he could tell she wasn't cold because her skin, even exposed as it was, was a decent temperature. Good, good. He cracked one eye open and was surprised to see the back of her neck and a bunch of hair. He was holding on to her waist, her back pressed against him. Blinking the sleep away, he saw she was more exposed than she should have been.

What an idiot. He covered her.

He felt her stir. "Good morning," she murmured, as she started stretching.

"Good morning," he greeted, voice deep.

"Hmmm, how was" a yawn "your sleep?"

"Deep."

"Mine, too...but" another yawn "everything hurts, damn."

"This is my mattress, remember? And it doesn't help any you're dressed like this."

"Ah, right." A pause. "Are you sure you don't want to buy a new one? I can feel my bones creaking."

Instead of telling her exactly what he thought about that attitude of hers, where everything could be replaced with something better without much thought, he simply used his hand on the scruff of her neck, as if she was a kitten.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, sorry, sorry, sorry, stop, I get it." He relented; she cracked her neck. "Know what? Do it again; it hurts less now."

"You're impossible," he complained and let his head fall on her back. "Just get up." He had an epiphany then. "Do we have anything for breakfast?"

"I wouldn't let you go hungry," she dismissed him "I had some things brought in yesterday evening. I checked the fridge as soon as we came and it's all there."

"Great."

He tried to get up; he meant to get up; he was hungry and had every intention of raiding the fridge, in fact. But for some reason he didn't. He realised with dread, he didn't want to leave; he hadn't felt so relaxed in ages. Lying on his bed – he'd missed his bed – warm, comfortable, with a beautiful woman that smelt so good...! His hands had brought her close, without him registering the actual motion, and just stayed there, breathing in and out.

"Hajime," he heard her voice pulling him out of whatever state he was in "let's rise; it's nine thirty."

"It's what?" He almost snapped at attention, sitting upright. "When?"

She shrugged. "I only just realised, too, come on." She too sat up, stretching once more. "Now I'm really hungry. Let's go eat!"

Crawling for the length of the bed, she grabbed her robe and put it on; she headed straight for the bathroom. He predicted as much, so he opened the windows, letting the air in, pulled the covers down and fluffed up the pillows, putting them in the line of the fresh air. When he heard the bathroom door open, he went, too.

By the time he had come out of the bathroom, she was already dressed: a nice, simple, black pair of pants, and a loose, white, oversized sweater. The collar was so large and at the same time so big it left one shoulder exposed; the sleeves so long, they had to be turned once or twice. But it was very thick, it must have kept her warm. For some reason though, he couldn't look away from her shoulder. She had nice shoulders...but he shouldn't stare.

And yet he did. "I made you coffee," she informed from the kitchen, making him snap his eyes to hers. "Here it is," she offered as he passed by to get to the couch, and naturally his eyes were drawn to her hands and then, inevitably her shoulder.

Look away...

It shouldn't be that hard; but he just didn't seem to be able to do it.

"What do you feel like eating?"

"Just bring a double serving of whatever you're having."

"I decided on a sweet breakfast."

He shrugged.

Five minutes later, she put the tray on the table, took two sets of chopsticks, offering one to Hajime and sat down next to him. "Let's eat!" they said at the same time.

Alright, it wasn't just the shoulder; he now started staring at her neck and her chin, too; how they moved with each bite and when she swallowed. Then her hands and how they held the chopsticks; then back again at the shoulder and that nice curve at the base of her neck damn it, what was wrong with him?

"And you want to do this every week?" he said seemingly randomly, although it was the moment he finally managed to tear his eyes away from her; she smiled.

"It'll grow on you." He gave her a look. "I promise not to be all that dramatic from now on, too...!"

"You better not."

The rest of the morning went by without much more conversation, simply savouring the tastes and the time spent together, in relative silence. He loved his daughter to death but, he was not going to lie, he needed the peace and quiet, too. He had no idea how much he missed it until this very moment. But it finally came and he was so grateful he could just...be. Without pretenses, without responsibilities, without work, just himself. And if he happened to have company, so be it. It wasn't all that terrible company anyway, if his traitorous eyes were any indication.

Though, to think she had been that spot on in her prediction, he wouldn't have guessed.

It had been a month and a half since their first date night and little by little, without sensing the change, he'd look forward to it more and more every week. At first, it was subtle, like looking at his watch more often, during work hours. Then he'd be counting down to when Tokio came home and their schedule could sync. And then, when he finally understood the true impact this had on him: when he realised the preliminary hearing was on Friday, 1st of April, that he almost felt desperate he'd have to go to work during the evening. Until, Hijikata hit him upside the head and called him an idiot.

"We give people leaves of absence when they have to appear in court for personal matters."

Saitou breathed a very big sigh of relief.

Of course, that day was eventful from start to finish: the court instructed them to be present at eleven, so, naturally, he was ready to leave home by eight, hurrying Tokio. He had wanted his mother to pick Aiko up from school and babysit, although Tokio's mom made a convincing argument about taking her from school herself and then just keeping her there until the next day. She'd been coming frequently over their home, without her husband, and once she had stayed the night, to babysit. But now she offered this and both adults looked upon it favorably. After all, this would be a fun change for Aiko, too, packing her little backpack and staying over at grandma's.

"I know what you're going to say; she's not her real grandmother. But consider this: mom hasn't had a baby to play with for too long and my parents' house is big enough to walk it all night and still have things to see the next day. She won't even know how the time passed by her."

"...and we can actually stay here for the night and not go to your apartment."

"I know, I hate your bed, too." He shook his head. "I think it's a good idea. It will be a nice tidbit for the court, too."

That convinced him. If he was going to face his mother-in—ex mother-in-law the next day, might as well have all the fodder he needed. So, they both went to court dressed sharply, only to be informed today no arguments would be made. This was more for the lawyers' benefit. They all went there, stood in front of the presiding judge and after both lawyers told their story, the judge nodded and set a date for the actual hearing. He stressed to Hajime he had to have his daughter with him then, as she was a key witness.

He did not protest.

That took about...ten minutes. At most. It was what happened after that took longer. His mother-i—ex-mother-in-law, in the company of her lawyer but not her husband, remained outside the court, trying to whisper in the man's ear about what their next move should be. Tokio took an interest.

"She looks very nice; I wouldn't have guessed."

"She is nice; just, for some reason, has it out for me lately."

"What if I go there and talk to her?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?"

One eye on his lawyer, the other on Saitou, the mother-in-law saw Tokio approach and stood straighter, forcing her lawyer to stop talking, too. Heh, she was smart, Tokio noticed. But she hadn't expected her to be so young; she looked no older than forty five, hair in a stylish bun at the base of her neck, suit including a pleated knee-length skirt, in the same green as her jacket. Underneath, a white shirt peeked. Very stylish.

"Hello, my name is Takagi Tokio, pleased to make your acquaintance." She bowed to both; they followed her example. "You are Miki; I hadn't met you. I am saddened to see it's under such circumstances, but—"

"Tell Hajime if he wants to speak to me, he can do it himself; he doesn't need to send his fancy, new lawyer." Tokio took pause, looking surprised. "What? He thinks he can scare me because you wear an expensive suit? Please. And tell him I demand to see my granddaughter; he can't keep her from me forever."

"Madam, you have this all wrong. To start with, he doesn't mind you seeing her, so long as you do it—"

"—in his house, I heard him the first time; but if I accept that, I might as well give up this entire case! No. He brings her to me."

"I'm sorry madam, but he has every right not to want her inside your home, unsupervised, when you're the one who has set this entire thing in motion." Just as Miki was about to say something else, both her lawyer and Tokio raised a flat palm. "That being said, I am not his new attorney."

She snorted. "Oh really? Then why are you dressed like those flashy lawyers we see on dramas?"

She looked at herself, wondered; she was perfectly presentable: high-waist, black, tailored zip culotte with an elaborate red shirt underneath, red, ankle-high stiletto, V-shaped suede boots and a thigh-high red coat with black large buttons, open at the front. "I came to court; I decided to wear something suitable."

"I don't care," she retorted, and turned to her lawyer. "Do you think we should be going?"

"Listen, madam, I'm not Hajime's attorney; I'm his fiance." The woman stopped dead in her tracks. "And I did not come here to antagonise y—"

"His what?" She was awestruck. "When?"

"We met a year ago; and then, a week before his birthday, he proposed."

Her chin hang; her eyes instantly turned to Tokio's hand, which she grabbed none too kindly, and bingo, she found what she was looking for: the sapphire on her ring finger, sitting there proudly.

"You didn't know?"

"Of course I didn't! Why—?" She turned to the lawyer. "Is he allowed to do that, in the middle of a trial?"

"Barely ongoing trial," the lawyer clarified "and why not? It has nothing to do with his marital status, meaning," he managed to stop her before protesting "he will not be tried for having an affair or being bigamous. It doesn't concern the lawmaker or the judge in a direct way."

"But, if he...and then...I mean..."

"Forgive me," Tokio interjected, now that she was clearly in the lead "I didn't mean to upset you; I simply wanted to meet you. After all, Aiko loves you very much and talks about you regularly, so I came here, trying to find a way for her to see you before this whole thing is over. That is all." She bowed. "Have a nice day."

"So you've met her?" The question stopped Tokio's retreat. "She likes you?"

"We live together," she said as if she was crazy for thinking otherwise "and I am confident to say, she adores me as much as I adore her. Goodbye. Hope we meet in better circumstances."

She walked all the way to the other side of the court house, where Hajime was, with purpose; as she neared him, she pretended to fret, lowering her head in his chest. She went very close. "Kiss me so Miki sees it; she's watching us."

He kissed the top of her head, as if comforting her and rubbed her back. With a start, he realised he was about to do it anyway.

"Let's go." She looked discreetly around. "I see your lawyer left already, but I have an idea. I'll tell you once we're inside the car; we'll call her after."

"So, what is it?" he asked, as soon as he settled in the driver's seat.

"Miki complained about you not letting her see Aiko. Considering I just gave her a huge scare by letting her know we are engaged and live together, I fear she'll go after that legally. So we have to be faster."

"How?"

"We file a request today. If your lawyer can't handle it alone, I can ask mine, to help—she won't mind."

"Go on."

"She demanded you let her see Aiko, so she'll probably have her lawyer write a strong-worded request to the judge in charge. But, we'll try to be faster and write our own, which will basically say this: after Miki repeatedly asked you to see Aiko, and you repeatedly said yes, she refused because she wanted it done on her terms and not yours, which is irrational, given you are the guardian and your terms were very sensible. So, we file for a request that says if she wants to see her, she can only come to our house and only under supervision, for as long as this whole thing's ongoing. Because, we'll claim, we fear she might take the child and run, otherwise why won't she accept coming into our house? And, at the very least, you have heard her talk unfairly of you to your child countless times, for no reason. If we get Okita to testify to that, too, perfect."

"...that's very promising."

"And if we're good enough, we can convince the court of the flight risk, which is the best thing we can do in our defense."

"Why?"

"There's only one thing courts hate more than people who don't show up for trial; those who before they even get to do that, ignore the court's orders about things being as is."

He tightened his chin, determined. "Let's do it. Call my lawyer and yours. Tell them to come meet us at the house urgently."

Her triumphant "yes!" didn't go unnoticed and just like that, his appreciation for her grew even more

By the time the clock read four, they had the formal document written and signed, with both lawyers looking very satisfied with the result. Seeing Miki hadn't managed to file anything – a friend of Tokio's lawyer kept them in the loop – they decided to do it as soon as they left. Even if Miki's lawyer went tomorrow, first thing in the morning, theirs would still take precedent, as today's left overs.

"See? Two minds are better than one," she jabbed, just as she sat next to him; her legs found his lap.

He nodded. "I can't say I don't feel confident." He turned to her. "Thank you, Tokio."

"Don't mention it."

But he should, that's how he felt. She was incredibly helpful for no reason other than holding up her end of the bargain, which so far had solely benefited him; but even so, she has already gone way beyond what she had promised. She was...truly, a good person. And yet, for some reason, to her it was no big deal. Very well. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

She seemed to be waiting for that question, her enthusiasm was cute. "Dancing!"

But he'd have to disappoint. "I don't dance, sorry. Pick something else."

"Noooo, Hajime, come on."

"No way."

"But—"

Just then, his cellphone rang; it was a message. It rang again in succession. Curious, he read both. A smirk gracing his lips, he turned the screen to her. "I believe this just gave you your answer."

Both texts were from Okita; they read:

Yo, bastard, don't you dare not show up tonight!

Shit, I never told you what's tonight: it's the precinct's annual thing and this once you do have a date, so you have no excuse not to show your face. Not to mention Hijikata is dying to see Tokio-chan again. Hell, everyone is. Just come, you cranky bastard. You were going to go out anyway, it's a Friday. Don't you dare not tell her about this because you know she'll agree with me. See you there.
Give my best to Tokio-chan.

She had to shake her head. "Very well; annual police ball it is. What should I wear?"

He shrugged. "Go all out; everyone does."

"Ooooh, yes!"

Well, he hadn't expected her to take it literally; that thing she wore, it could have cost more than everyone else's combined. At first he thought these shiny things were sequins but nope, they were semi-precious stones...and they had a lot of fabric to cover. It was a mermaid dress, in royal blue, that was tulle from top to bottom. It was the stones that made it not see-through, embroidered on silk fabric that covered only what was necessary. The stones, some the same bright blue as the dress, others red, others green, formed a very deep neck line. They continued, descending all the way to her knees. There, it flared out and they were gradually lost until, all the way to the floor, there was only tulle, again. The back was just as exposed as the front, semi-precious stones starting at her middle, save for one line at the entire length of her back.

She wore very long earrings to match her outfit, too that consisted of silver elaborate chains with more stones on it that formed the shape of a tear and, at its end, a big, oval sapphire, almost two by two.

"Tokio, this is the precinct's ball, not the mayor's."

"You said all out. Why do you think the hairdresser was here?"

"The hair is great; the dress is a little much."

"But you said all out," she spelled out for him "I can't change now; I got my hair done with this dress in mind—see?"

She turned around and showed how she hairdresser had weaved her long hair all around a most impressive kanzashi hair pin and added some more hair clips, all either pearl white or blue flowers of different sizes. A couple of bangs, curled to perfection, escaped from here and there. It was a perfect fit, he wasn't going to lie.

"Alright, you win." She beamed. "Like always. Maybe it's for the best; I don't think anyone will notice me, or anyone else for that matter, in a two-metre radius around you. Your dress will be reflecting too much light."

She hit him with her tiny clutch, but still laughed. "Prick; let's just go." He helped her into her shoes. "You look very nice, too," she complimented almost annoyed; he laughed.

"You look very beautiful," he assured her "your earrings match the ring, too."

"The entire dress does," she kept up in the same tone.

He smiled. "And here I thought it was a jab at police colours."

"No...!" She grabbed his arm and they started walking. "I don't do things to bring others down." She patiently waited for him to lock the door. "But look how easily noticeable it is on my finger now."

She looked at it for a long moment, with pride; he smirked. "It is a nice ring; that's why I bought it."

"Nice? It's perfect. Sapphires are the best." He shook his head. "I'm complimenting your taste, you know!"

"Wait until we get to the event first."

It was a nice place they had decided to hold it at. Tokio knew the certain hall, it was the same her brother had held his wedding reception all those years ago and it was always impressive how they managed to transform it just by adding or subtracting some tables or curtains. This once it was quite fitting with the theme of the precinct, holding blue and black ribbons, white tablecloths and balloons of the same three colours in clusters on the ceiling or scattered all over the floor.

Also, Tokio had no idea what Saitou was talking about—she was not overdressed. He'd been right the first time, they did all go all out, why should she be any different? If anything, her dress wasn't even the biggest or loudest of all: she could see at least three women her age and about five older ones, with huge ball gowns.

"Tokio-chan, Saitou; over here!"

There Okita was, dressed very nicely, in a dark green suit of impeccable stitching. He wore no tie or vest, but a cravat and she could have clapped for his taste, he looked amazing. And next to him, an equally amazing woman, taller than him, dressed in a sexy red, off the shoulder midi dress. Her hair were a soft purple that almost turned blue. They went well together.

"Why hello Souji, Souji's beautiful date."

"I'm Sakura, hello." She bowed slightly, not to move too much in that neckline. "You look breathtaking," she complimented under her breath, as if fearing someone would hear her.

"So do you," Tokio assured her "...girlfriend?"

"Yes; the same one I had to cancel on once upon a Friday so someone could go watch a play."

Tokio laughed. "Forgive me, Sakura-san."

"That's okay; Nagakura is coming with his wife—she'll grill you nicely."

There was a weird thing happening with the men; Hajime, like Nagakura that she just glimpsed as well as Hijikata, wore their ceremonial police uniforms; others wore regular suits, much like Okita did.

"Finally, he lets you out of the house!" was Nagakura's first words to her, earning himself some laughs. "This is my wonderful wife Nagakura Tama-chan;" a short woman with naturally light brown hair and eyes; her dress was a sleek line of black, from top to bottom, as maxi as it gets; the neckline was a little deep, two small straps on her shoulder. "Tama-chan you haven't met her, this is Tokio, Saitou's fiance."

"I haven't met you but oh dear Buddha, I've heard so much about you," she almost complained to the woman "it is good to finally put a face in the name." Tokio smiled; she could imagine how insufferable her husband must have been, especially after their unorthodox meeting. "And it wasn't just my idiot of a husband who kept talking about you, but these idiots, too."

She gestured to Okita and some people who were seen approaching.

Tokio gave her a knowing look. "I know, right? Men; and then they have the nerve to accuse us of gossiping." Okita's date liked that too much—her laughter was booming; Tokio felt accomplished. "No matter, I'm here now, in the flesh. It's refreshing to be told someone's been talking about me behind my back to my face."

"Ah, yes, you're kind of famous?" Sakura asked her.

"Nah," she waved her away "not really; only to those who are related to my line of work."

"But you're a PR manager, Tokio-chan," Okita remembered.

"I don't show my face all that much; yes, if a journalist who recognizes me, sees me, he might snap a picture, but it's uncommon."

Nagakura laughed. "Is that why you're dressed like that? Just in case some paparazzi spots you?"

The look she gave him was unrivaled: shrewd but absolute. "Excuse me detective, but I find my dress quite fitting for the event." Her eyebrows rose, superior and never missed the way Tama glared at her husband. "Or are you worried I'm spending your friend's money?"

"Not to worry," Hajime spoke for the first time "there's no way any of us could ever afford that dress; he knows that much."

"You could afford that ring though," Hijikata came into the conversation out of nowhere, jutting his chin out towards her hand; everyone immediately focused on it, causing her to show off said ring. The women crowded her. "It looks expensive, too. Don't tell me it came as a set with the earrings?"

Just then Harada came by, dressed in an smart blue suit. "What are we talking about? What are we looking at?"

But Hajime simply snorted. "Do I look like I'm made of money?"

She sniggered. "Those are mine; bought them after the ring." She showcased the ring to Harada. "This is what we're looking at; isn't it perfect?" She looked at it a moment longer, as the women assured her it was indeed great. "I love it. It's me, if I were a ring."

"Flashy and needlessly expensive?" Hijikata teased.

But she didn't know him enough to take it, so she simply smirked. "Precious and well sought-after," she corrected, hand imperceptibly snaking around Hajime.

"Is that so?" She simply shrugged, looking mighty pleased with herself. "Then what are you doing here? Aren't there better places you could be at right now?"

Why was Hijikata of all people in a pissing contest with her, he'd never know; but he wanted nothing to do with it and he definitely wanted it to end; so he took no part in it, no matter how difficult they both made it.

"Better? That's an odd word to use; different, maybe..." This once she actually hugged Hajime's arm, ever so gracefully. "Maybe you have been too engrossed in your work lately, Hijikata-san and have gotten your priorities all mixed up."

Okita's reaction was distracting; that snort could have been heard halfway across the room. "Maybe she says; you're too kind Tokio-chan."

"It's one of my many flaws."

Some polite laughter followed, but the conversation thankfully steered clear of anything further. How she managed to be so eloquent no matter what, though, he did not know; he only knew he was jealous of it. After that, they actually had a very pleasant evening. Never dancing notwithstanding, they had fun talking to others, being by themselves, sharing a drink with some colleagues he hadn't seen in a while and introducing her to people.

She was very endearing, was the general consensus. Assertive, but endearing. She had even managed to stay away from most journalists in the room, not making her presence known.

But of course, seeing everything was going way too swimmingly, something had to happen to sour the whole evening. Just as they were about to announce the lottery winners – they were given a raffle at the entrance – the lights flickered. At first they thought it was an accident, but the moment the old man in the tuxedo dared speak again the same thing happened, only much, much more intense. Gasps were heard all over; a wave of alarm washed over the entire room.

And then something terrible came to pass: the very distinctive sound of a gun being fired echoed across the room, three times. Panic seized almost everyone; screams were heard from the entire length of the room, while fear manifested in people hurrying and pushing for the exit.

"Calm yourselves," a man younger than her father, their commander Kondou, dictated through the microphone from the far end of the room "We need to be responsible and find out where the gunshots originated from. Look all around you and try to spot any injured parties; be completely still."

They all did as they were told; meanwhile, Tokio had not stopped clinging on to Hajime, who did not let go of her for one second. They did as the man ordered and soon enough they realised everyone was healthy—no bullet wounds to speak of. But those were definitely the sounds of a gun being fired...Hajime, Okita, Hijikata and Nagakura, as well as Kondou, looked at the speakers at the same time.

"Please, remain calm and stay here. I shall personally make sure everyone is accounted for and all doors closed. But before that," his tone changed "Hijikata, you know what to do. Tell me what you decided and come help me with securing the doors." His tone changed again. "Thank you everyone for your cooperation in advance; please treat Hijikata-san as my proxy and give him the respect you'd bestow upon me, too."

Neither man wasted any time; before Tokio could blink, she watched their captain fly about: Nagakura; Harada; Okita; and then, Hajime. He came close and whispered "last door remaining is to your left and back; you all meet back here in fifteen minutes. If you see anything suspicious, you report immediately. Use your cell phone. Anyone will do, but I'd rather you told me first. But you'll be the judge of that."

Hajime nodded; Hijikata simply put his hand on his shoulder and finally headed for Kondou. Just when he tried to leave, though, Tokio wouldn't let go. He gave her a look, but she was having none of it. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You heard the man."

"f he needs someone to help, he can send someone else. Preferably not the one with the child."

"He knows; but he told me anyway, because I'm the one with the proper training." She tried to contradict him, but he didn't let her. "Tokio, I know what to do; I'll be fine. I might not look like it, but I used to do this all the time."

"You have the scars to prove it," she bitterly remarked "I just hope you won't add new ones to the collection."

He took hold of the hand that was grabbing him; slowly, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on the top of her head. It surprised her enough to let go. "I'll be fine." Then a smirk, "be right back."

He took off his cap and jacket as he went, leaving them on the closest surface, and she rushed to pick them up; then, she just stood there, awkward. There was a big knot in her throat, when she tried to swallow; that terrible sound still rang in her ears. She couldn't blink without feeling her heart race a mile a second.

"Come here," a voice cajoled her; it was Tama-chan. She had already taken Sakura in one hand and now she was offering the other to Tokio. Almost unconsciously, she took it. Tama guided her close and they all stood there, huddled, holding hands and not daring to look away from one another. "They'll be fine," she assured, voice too practiced "don't worry too much. They are very capable; we'll all be fine, in a little while."

"They do this often?" Sakura was appalled.

"Not anymore, thank Buddha; but they used to and they were always successful. So don't you worry, yes? They'll get their guy; we'll be safe and they'll be back."

Tokio spoke none during the entire time. There was a horrible nauseous feeling, ready to take effect if she so much as dared open her mouth. Her mind ran wild with the possibilities. She thought of literally everything—every bad scenario this situation had to offer and one was worse than the next. Her mind kept going back to one small, round face, ever so often, and how she'd take any sort of bad news, regarding her father; then his parents; the hearing. Buddha help her, why were they taking so long? Where they safe? Her eyes kept going back to the door he left from, hand nervously smoothing over the fabric of his jacket repeatedly, while the other squeezed Tama's hand in a variety of degrees.

And then, they all heard it; heads collectively snapped at the door Harada left from, a huge ruckus going on behind it. At the same time, Okita's door saw action, with the sound of something banging against a wall and then on the floor, indistinct shouts following it. Everyone held their breaths. And then—

"SAITOU!"

That was Okita; he sounded desperate. Tokio could feel her heart stop. And then a gunshot; a second; a third; everyone kept blinking, horror increasing with each bang. She felt like fainting...if it weren't for Tama to squeeze her hand at the right moment, causing her pain, to snap her out of it, she could have actually fell. Or if it weren't for Sakura to put a hand on her back, for support. Bless their souls, they were too kind.

Release finally came when the door Saitou had disappeared from burst open, a man dressed in all black, form-fitting tracksuit came in, hands behind his back, blood gushing from his nose...with Hajime holding him securely there. She was so relieved she felt her heart go back into place.

"Oh thank Buddha," she whispered, once Nagakura and Harada followed with another suspect each, and last but not least Okita, holding two guns with a napkin. But she hadn't cared about the rest, as soon as she saw they were whole. She simply turned back to Hajime, scanning him from top to bottom; his shirt was slightly pulled and a couple of buttons undone; he had a bruise on his face; and there was something like...she shook her head. Better not dwell too much on it.

"This is it," Okita called out "no one else is left."

All three men nodded, as if to verify him. Nagakura asked "where do you want them?"

Kondou took the floor once more. Microphone in hand, he spoke in his booming voice: "Everyone please start making your exit in a sightly manner; follow evacuation protocol—first the ones closest to the doors and so on so forth."

Somehow, they had gotten themselves extremely close to a door, so they had to evacuate first; but Tokio wasn't having any of it. She stayed in her corner, slipping away from the other two in the chaos that ensued, and once everyone was safely removed, she attempted to go back. Just before she did though, she saw the four men with the three suspects, in Kondou's company, leave the room. She looked inside; only Hijikata was left. Perfect.

"What are you doing here?"

"Are you insane?" she snapped in return, making the man lean back a little bit as she stood right in front of him. "You had to use Hajime for this? Really!?" She took a step forward, making him take a step backwards. "You had two people who used to be in special forces and five that are currently in the Bureau; five! In this room, in this space. And you chose Hajime, Okita, Nagakura and Harada simply because you've worked with them the longest?"

"I will not be told how to do my job," he said with authority; she snorted. Huh. He had never had that reaction before; his eyes became small.

"I don't care if they think they shouldn't be bothered on the one day they are supposed to relax; tough—that's their job. Just because these four used to do something similar, in hopes of joining the organization those others, I repeat, currently are, doesn't make it okay! And I don't care if they are the ones you're most comfortable with and you happen to be higher ranking than them."

"...can't deny you're smart. But I know what I'm doing."

"Care to tell me exactly what that is? Because I don't care how flattered your men felt at you directing them for something like that, when there clearly were people who were a better fit for it; I am not so easy to manipulate. And I don't care if you thought you'd have less trouble directing those certain people. A good leader is supposed to be effective no matter what."

"You really don't hold your tongue, do you?"

"Why should I?"

"To start with, he could have just said no."

"Oh don't you worry your pretty little head, he's gonna hear it, much more colorfully than you that's for sure; but I don't know exactly how much he's conditioned, at this point, to simply follow your command without really thinking about it."

"It wasn't even all that dangerous."

"We all heard the gunshots! And there were visible signs of a struggle, am I blind? Do you take me for a fool maybe? Not to mention I saw bloo—...just never, ever do this again. Ever."

He huffed; she was being too overbearing. He decided to change tactics. "I don't get it; Yaso used to be so accommodating. You're nothing like her."

Oh he did not go there that piece of...! "I don't appreciate being compared to dead people; they can't speak for themselves thus I cannot make a defense properly," she snubbed as coldly as she could. "After all, she could have been accommodating, as you claim, or simply too scared of you to express any sort of opposition, in front of you. No matter, I will make your life difficult if you keep this up, make no mistake."

He crossed his hands, challenging her. "And how will you do that?"

"I can be very creative when I want to; but fear not, I shall not go the official route, if that's what you're thinking. No formal complaints, no press conferences...but you do work with Hajime daily. I'm sure I can come up with something."

He sighed. "Please don't."

"Then never do anything like this again."

"Those men you talked about—they all have their issues. The two are retired; as far as the five are concerned...I'm pained to say they aren't worth much. The only reason they have the position they do in the certain part of the police force is because they know the right people. They are practically useless. They have the highest salaries – bonuses for being deployed obviously not included – but they never get deployed. They sit on their asses as glorified paper-pushers. Only one of them is actually capable but to include him in the others would be a big mistake. He never trained with them, he doesn't know their cues. I get where you're coming from, but these four were the most effective team to do this exactly because there would be no injuries or anyone getting away."

"...fair enough. But don't expect me to like it. What if, one in a million, something went horribly wrong? What was I to do then? What would I tell his daughter?"

"I get where you're coming from; but I want you to trust me to always make the most sensible decision." A grin came to his lips. "I am nearly as sadistic as people make me out to be."

"Tokio?"

Hajime's voice attracted their attention and they turned to the door; there he was with two of the rest three. Harada had stayed back with Kondou. "What are you still doing here? Why didn't you evacuate with the rest?"

She drew a big breath, anger rising with her lungs; Nagakura and Okita looked at one another almost laughing, but it was Hijikata, surprisingly, that saved him by her immediate wrath. "Saitou, Nagakura, you two aren't needed; Okita will fill me in." He nodded. "Go."

"Very well," Tokio bit out, turning to look at him. "I hope I see you again, under better circumstances, Toshizou-san."

"Toshizou!?" he repeated horrified; everyone looked at her shocked, knowing full well he hated being called that.

"Isn't that your name? Goodnight, Toshizou-san," she repeated, waving; she turned about and walked away.

As soon as they were all out of the room, Hijikata moved to the window. "What are we doing, Hijikata-san?"

"I wanna watch this; come here. We'll wait for a moment. See that? It's Saitou's car." Okita nodded but still didn't know where he was going with it. "You'll see; it's going to be good." If she had the nerve to so carelessly threaten or chastise him, he demanded to be entertained by her.

Five minutes later, they watched as Saitou and Tokio appeared, waving goodbye to the Nagakuras. Seeing now that was the only car left, they watched Tokio take a deep calming breath...and then actually, physically, struck out at him!

"See?" His smile was involuntary. "I told you."

She did it twice; thrice; soon enough it was a barrage, anywhere she found enough ground to do it. Okita and Hijikata watched amused as the scene unfolded, seeing her shout in his face, but not really hearing her, since they were so far away. Saitou on the other hand, wasn't all that happy about this.

"What were you thinking, you idiot? You idiot!" She blew up on him, unrelenting. "What if something happened to you? Huh? What would I do then? What would I say to your mother—your daughter? Do you think I'm capable of taking care of a child all on my own? I am not qualified or prepared for anything like that! I was so worried oh my god! Why did you do that? Why didn't you just refuse?"

He kept trying to tell his side of the story, speaking her name, but she wouldn't let up.

"Do you realise this is what you walked away from when you had Aiko? Do you think I cannot see? You put on your jacket but I already noticed—how your shirt's torn at the side most probably from a goddamn bullet! Did he get you?"

"No, it's just a scratch—it doesn't even hurt. It's cauterised. Tokio, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are!" She jabbed him right there on purpose, making him flinch. "There's definitely something wrong in that head of yours!" Then she hit his chest with the back of her hand. "I was worried sick! And you just shrug this off..."

"Look," he said through a chuckle that earned him another blow "this isn't standard; this has never happened these past six years, in fact. And I only helped because you were there; and Nagakura's wife; and Okita's girlfriend. This isn't something I just do."

"Well don't do it again anyway, no matter who's there—unless it's Aiko-chan. Don't. Never."

"I promise."

"Don't just promise, I..." She produced a sound then that wasn't sighing or crying, but something in between. "I was so scared..." She buried her head in his chest, hands coming around him slowly.

"I can see that," he commented, almost impressed.

"Don't ever do this again."

"I won't."

She continued hugging him, pressure increasing with each passing second. "Promise you'll be more careful."

"I will."

She savoured his presence a little more; she hadn't noticed, but he had put his hands around her, too, enveloping her in a blanket of calm and security. "And if anything should happen, it's someone else's fault."

"You bet."

She chuckled; finally, she was appeased. "Good...let's go home...I feel exhausted. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

He smirked. "Actually, I could go for a drink."

She clicked her tongue. "No; home. If you still want that drink I'll make it for you."

"Why not?" She grunted. "But to get home, you'll have to let go of me. Can't drive like this."

She pinched his wound in retaliation, again; the look she gave him, like daring him to express any sort of pain, was deemed quite amusing from the man, despite the pain.

"Very well," she quipped, all previous issues forgotten "let's go." As she untangled herself, he took a moment to look at her; sensing his eyes, she raised an eyebrow. "Well? Let's go..."

He shook his head; he thought he saw something in her, but it could have been his mind playing tricks on him. So, he helped her into the car and then got in himself. Once they drove off, he turned to her. "Were you really worried you'd have to take care of Aiko?"

"Duh; I don't know if I can handle that much responsibility on my own."

"If, worst case scenario, I died, you do realise you still wouldn't be the one to take her, yes? My parents and Yaso's would be the prime candidates. And given mine live across the hall..."

"But we are engaged; we're planning a wedding. Aiko is attached to me, too; even if I didn't want to, I'd have to be involved. Maybe even—look, I don't know if I'd step up and ask for her, should anything so final happen to you, but I wouldn't walk away." She clicked her tongue. "I couldn't. Which is why I'm telling you this and get it into your head: be sensible."

Something warm spread inside him at the sound of those words. He'd learnt her facial expressions, as well as her tone; currently, she was using the "don't be daft" tone which meant she believed every word she said one hundred percent—and not just that. She thought him crazy for needing to ask. It was completely unneeded, and she had no real reason; but she still not only said it but stood by it. That wasn't simply nice, but honestly the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. Damn, he was getting emotional. That was never a good state to driving in.

So, he concentrated on the road as if his life depended on it.

"At least one good thing came out of this; we met Souji's girlfriend," she commented as soon as she was out of her shoes and coat.

"Yeah, don't get too excited; you won't be seeing her again."

Chin hanging at his uncouth manner, she glared, just as they sat on the couch. Saitou seemed to enjoy the feeling of sitting back, eyes closing as if on cue. He let his hands fall next to him.

"Don't say that! I know he took his time introducing her to us, but...but that doesn't mean he won't be bringing her around again this month—or the next."

He heard the offense in her voice; guessing her proximity successfully, he put his hand on her thigh. "I know my friend better than you; and there's no way we'll be seeing her again. For some reason, whenever he introduces a girlfriend, she vanishes."

Oh.

"He always did that; no one knows why. As if once we meet her, the mystery's gone. I doubt he'll stay with her for much longer; so don't get too familiar with her. You won't be seeing her again and that is an almost certainty."

Oh; so that's what he meant. For some reason, she thought he meant Tokio wouldn't be around for much longer and she felt slighted. Thinking back on it, she didn't know why, it wouldn't have been a lie; this would end at some point, in the not so distant future. And yet, just the thought brought a strange squeezing sensation around her heart. What was it? Anxiety? Sadness? She would have to move out again, which would be a bitch to be sure, but that wasn't it. Could it be...she actually didn't want this to end?

She looked to her left, sharply, making sure Saitou still didn't see her because she had no idea what kind of expression she was making. "Well, you know him best..."

Her tone caused him to crack one eye open. "Can it be?"

He stared; she blushed. "What?"

"Can it really be?"

"Wh, what?" Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he realised. He saw through her. Her colour only got worse as he kept staring, a smirk taking over his face.

"Did you just admit you were wrong?" Her shoulders fell; her expression changed. "And that I was right?"

"What an idiot," she lamented; he just smirked wider. "Do you want your side looked at detective or should we just go to sleep?"

"I want my drink first." He shrugged. "But then knock yourself out."

"Alright; what do you wanna drink?"

"I missed a nice whiskey."

"On the rocks?" He nodded. "On its way."

"Tokio, are these literal rocks?" He looked into the glass she brought him curiously. Instead of ice cubes, there were...cubes made of something. She chuckled.

"These are whiskey stones." At his curiosity, she simply said "google it. Now, I'll go change because I can barely move in this thing." She turned her back on him, prompting. He did nothing. "Help me, detective; I can't get out of it on my own. My hands don't reach that far back."

Just as he was about to snap there was no zipper or buttons to be found, he spotted them: some of the stones that appeared to be just another design of the dress, in fact made up the row of buttons needed to get out of it. Nice slight of hand there. He started with the highest and—ah, there it was. They were difficult to open. He just spent more time on each one than he'd have guessed...which wasn't all that good. He didn't mean to stare, too but huh; she really wasn't wearing anything underneath, her back was bare; it looked incredibly smooth, too. He was almost tempted to touch her.

Almost.

Last button was on her middle and he couldn't get there fast enough. Lately he'd been having way too many intrusive thoughts—it was never like this before, he was at a loss. The sooner this was all said and done with, the better; he had no idea how much longer he could be on his best behaviour around her.

"All set," he announced and he was relieved to find his voice sounded almost the same.

"Thank you."

He only hoped this once, just this once, she didn't wear one of her ridiculous nightgowns, and maybe, just maybe, she chose to wear actual pajamas. But nope, nah ah; of course she had yet another satin, silk whatever that was nightgown that was too much of something. This one was too short, because it—oh wait, they were shorts: a robe, a blouse and shorts. How was it that he could better see her figure now though? And why was she so curvy? He looked away; he had no right to be looking on the first place.

She didn't come to him directly, though, as if on purpose; she went to get the emergency kit, poured herself some water and only then did she come sit back down, hair free, falling on her back, after showing off her nightwear enough and the bit of lace at the hem of the shorts and the neckline on the blouse. "Take off your jacket and shirt, detective, I can't see through fabric."

He did nothing. Why was he being like this? He couldn't look at her too long, too what was wrong with him? He felt his fingers twitch. He heard her click her tongue and slid his eyes back to her. She was not amused, but at the same time, a little smirk threatened to spill.

"I think you shouldn't have that drink, detective, it's making you slow," she teased, but he could tell she did believe it to some extent. "No more alcohol for you tonight."

Come to think of it, maybe she was right; it could be the alcohol that made him think like that. Though...was it really? He barely had two drinks there; and now just a couple of sips. No, it was something else, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Still, he was nearly mesmerized by her picking up the glass, shaking it in front of him and then proceeding to simply down all of it.

"There; now take off your clothes or I'll do it for you."

"One of these days," was all he said as he removed his jacket "you're going say or wear something I'll actually like and you're going to regret it."

"I am assuming you are talking about two or four different occasions, otherwise why would I regret it?" She either said that in a way, or he was hearing things. "I'm not a coward."

So he was not hearing things. Perfect; shake it off. This was the last thing he needed right now. He didn't take off his shirt though, he simply let it hang open. "And did you just diss my taste in clothes?" He wisely said nothing;satisfied, she cracked her fingers and dived right in. "You were so full of it," she snubbed "the bleeding isn't too much, but it's there. Look at the state of your shirt, too." She shook her head. "If you ever do this again, I swear..."

"You'll what?" he called her bluff. "Leave me?" The glare he received was formidable; he still looked at her as if he won the argument. Oh ho, ho, she did not like it. Pursing her lips, she poured the disinfectant right on the overblown scratch; ah shit that stung.

The look in her eyes was vindictive. "Want me to kiss it better?"

No; don't say it. "I am not a child."

"Could have fooled me..." She literally slapped the gauze on. "And I thought you said you wouldn't be doing anymore of this."

"I won't," he couldn't help the smirk "but don't threaten me."

She clicked her tongue. "It's my fault for caring."

"And you have an odd way of showing it. I think my entire left side has just gone numb."

"Then maybe don't talk a big game and admit it actually hurts and I won't treat it like a simple scratch."

"...fine. It hurts, a little."

"From scale one to ten?"

"Four."

"Idiot." She gave him the world's slowest, less powerful slap—she only went through the motion and simply cupped his cheek. "I don't know how accustomed Yaso was to all of this, but to be entirely honest, I don't care; after all, she agreed to marry a police officer. I didn't."

"But you kinda did."

There was a moment when they both looked at one another; and then, she broke. Suppressed laughter shook her whole but instead of letting go of him completely, she put both her hands around his neck and simply sat in his lap, hugging him. He too put one arm around her, head lowering on her shoulder, even if he still wasn't completely used to her sudden bouts of intimacy.

"And you're wrong."

"You already admitted I'm right once, can't have it happening a second time in the same day."

She clicked her tongue. "I might have agreed to marry you, but in my mind, the most dangerous thing you ever did was talk back to me, when I was still a suspect." He snorted. "But this is nothing like that. I was scared; really scared."

She let that sink in for a moment. "I was worried you may come back hurt...or worse." She sighed. "Try not to put yourself in danger for no reason, that's all I'm asking."

"I won't."

"Will you tell me why Okita shouted like that, at least?"

He didn't look like he was willing to share; looking momentarily up, seeing his face, she decided not to pry any further. Simply turned in such a way that her back was to him, head on his chest. It was a long moment later he finally spoke. Maybe it had to do with the fact she was always curious and tried to strong-arm him into things that her voluntary surrender on the topic urged him to speak.

"Nagakura was going to be shot at; Okita was too far away to do anything, but close enough to grab the guy I caught if I went to help. And so it happened. I pushed Nagakura out of the way, got grazed; then lunged at the guy, grabbed his hand and his next two shots went to the ceiling."

"Then thank Buddha that that" she gestured to his side "was all you got out of it."

"I'm a little out of shape; he would have never grazed me, ten years ago."

"You were twenty one years old, ten years ago, too" she reminded.

"True." He chuckled. "To be honest, it's the hand I'm mostly angry about, not that."

"What hand?"

He held up his left palm. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the discoloration of his skin right at the space between the pointer and the thumb. It wasn't a burn nor a bruise—it was something in the middle. She looked at it at a length.

"Let me dress it. I have a salve that's for something just like that. I think it'll help. It's in the kit."

Instead of standing, she used her leg to bring the thing closer, and took it in her lap. She found what she needed and did as she had said. First, she spread the salve; he was very appreciative—it was very soothing. Once she had put a good, thick layer on there, she took out the roll of bandage and wrapped it around his palm carefully. She did it slowly, meticulously; he found it relaxing, watching her do it. Securing it, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips.

"There; now it will get better, faster."

Heh, she actually did kiss something better. What an "idiot."

But he didn't remove his hand from hers; on the contrary, he interlaced their fingers, she noticed, and let them fall in her lap. And then, they stayed like that for a long time; it was when Hajime heard her breath coming in and out evenly that he realised she fell asleep. He had half a mind to wake her up; he had some second thoughts and decided to get her to bed himself. No need to jostle her now. And yet, the more he thought about it, the less inclined he felt to move. In the end, he too fell asleep on the couch with her.

---

A/N: The Bureau is referring to PSB, Public Security Bureau, stationed in Tokyo, but gets deployed all over.

I think another couple of chapters and this story is complete; I really like writing it, too, they are such idiots. Tell me your thoughts, too and please, if you have a recommendation for a future story or something you'd expect me to have tackled already, leave it in a review or a message.

Love you all; stay at home,
FAI.