A conversation at a crossroad.

[saitoh_hajime]

“There are moments in our lives when we find ourselves at a crossroad, afraid, confused, without a road-map. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days. Of course when faced with the unknown, most of us prefer to turn around and go back.” –Lucas Scott


To read what happens next, go to Staring the Day, Saitoh Family Stile, followed by Release to the Wild. 

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[saitoh_hajime]

It was habit, a habit ingrained through years of military service, that forced Saitoh up from the darkness and rare peace that a well needed nights rest had graced him with. Blinking slowly, his eyes quickly adjusting to pre-dawn darkness, he started at the ceiling for a moment, his still injured body in repose.

His mind, no longer gummy with extreme fatigue, was able to clearly, carefully replay every second of the evening before. A battle had been won and a bottle of cooking sake had been left where it belonged, on a shelf at the grocers. He’d given up tactical ground when he capitulated and let the boys have bubbles in their bath rather than being practical and having them wash up as they would normally do.

Though only the ceiling was witness to it, a small smile appeared, making his features less severe as the recollection of making dinner with his family, a real family dinner for the first time in three years played out in his thoughts. The boys had been so helpful in their assigned tasks and he’d been able to assist in preparations that consisted of more than ordering takeout or microwaving some piss poor excuse for a frozen family sized dinner. Tokio, of course, had brilliantly overseen everything, ensuring that for a short window of time, a hurting, fractured family was able to savor the experience of normalcy and peace.

(I wonder if she realizes what a gift last night was?) Knowing Tokio, he doubted it. She was one of those rare individuals who gave of themselves freely, with no thought of what would be given back in return. His life and line of work had taught him that people of such a loving, generous nature were extremely rare and should be protected and cherished.

(I’ve known three such people in my life and have lost two of them due to my arrogance and stupidity.) Only Tokio remained.

Yaso was dead and in all likelihood Okita had followed her. (If he was alive, he would have found a way to contact me, despite the way we parted.) Saitoh was sure of it. He had few regrets, but his appalling behavior to his friend and partner at what would become their last meeting was one of them.

(Like a fool, I thought that I’d have time to work things out with him.) Any hint of a smile was long gone. He’d made the same mistake with Yaso and the little family they’d created together, assuming that there would always have the luxury of being able to tend to matters domestic once his work was done, that he’d be able to find the time to being a good friend…father…husband. Three years of hell had taught him otherwise.

His throat began to burn again. He let it and forced himself to feel the persistent ache. (Part of sobriety is accepting accountability for my mistakes and trying not to repeat them) He swallowed reflexively and then forced himself to sit up. Stifling a groan, as he tried to straighten out a neck that had spent the night positioned at a very unnatural angle. As he sat up the blanket that had been covering him slipped from his lap, pooling onto the floor. His sharp eyes spotted an errant Lego © on the floor. He’d stepped on it the night before, while carrying Tokio to the couch.

(She told me to watch my mouth, that there were kids in the house) Saitoh thought as scrubbed his face with a hand, the stubble on his chin scratching. He shook his, head, bemused that the censure had been so welcome after years of not having a better half who was willing to keep him line (or at least try).

Naturally tidy, Saitoh reached down, picked up the blanket and folded it, placing the ridiculous (but warm) covering on the couch and stood up. Fragile, weak beams of light were beginning to cast themselves on the wall in the kitchen. The sun was rising and so must he.

[saitoh_hajime]

Determined to get coffee going, he padded silently into the kitchen. Muscle memory guided him through the motions of getting a pot started, until the cast of the first rays of morning light caught his attention, prompting him to go to the window and look out, eastward, over the heavily industrialized hills of New Meiji.

A blood red sun was rising, rays warped and weakened by the ever-present air pollution that plagued the city. Even with a good air filtration system working non-stop, detecting the sharp tang of heavy metals, nitrates and other particulate matter was far too easy. Like a drive-by victim bleeding out on the side of a highway, the world around him was dying, just like the city he’d sworn to protect, unable or perhaps no longer willing to adapt to the increasingly brutal demands placed upon it.

Saitoh reached out and placed a scarred hand on the window. Unsurprisingly, no warmth came from the overwhelmed sun, not this early in the morning. While they were reflective, so that no one could look inside and violate the privacy of his home, he was able to look outside and see the world unfold. He didn’t like what he saw and hadn’t for a long time. As a child he’d been able to go outside and play baseball or ride a bike. Today his children, for their own safety, would be restricted to indoor activities, as they had been for several days in a row.

This was not a world he wanted to live in, to say nothing of leaving his boys to grow up in. Not one for sighing, he dropped his hand away. Bitching about the state of things (even when done internally) was a pointless endeavor, a complete and utter waste of his time.

After checking on the status of the brewing coffee, he turned his attention to other matters, matters that were of a very time sensitive nature and could no longer be delayed. He’d warned Tokio of this the night before and despite all of his shortcomings, he had learned from his mistakes and no longer took the luxury of time for granted.

(There are things we have discuss, things you won’t like to hear, things that won’t be easy for me to ask)

He’d seen the unspoken fear and worry in her face. She was a strong woman, but a not a stupid one, not by a long shot. He felt rushed and was certain that she would as well, for things would be broached this morning that would normally not be considered until a man and woman had known each other for months...years...perhaps never at all.

(This will be a pivotal conversation) They were at a crossroads.

After its conclusion, one way or another, the path they were exploring would be forever altered. He’d had two days in her welcome company and was enough of a realist to know that there was no guarantee that there would be any more. That was part of life.

Turning from the kitchen, his jaw tightening with determination, he walked quietly down the hall to where the guest room was. It was a room that had never lived up to its potential, a room that was supposed to have been a nursery for the other children he and Yaso had hoped for. Her death ended that option and so a guest room it became, one that had not been used since Okita had gone missing.

Regardless of how the conversation went, Saitoh was glad that the room had been able to provide a good, honorable person with a measure of shelter and protection. Not wanting to risk waking the boys by knocking, for this was a conversation that they were NOT to be privy to, he carefully opened the door.

The scene that met him made the necessary discussion even harder to contemplate.

[saitoh_hajime]

Tsutomu was curled up, deeply asleep and covered with a blanket, his face tucked up against the crook of Tokio’s arm. She was also asleep, though sleeping on top of the covers rather than under them. On her side, she was cradling his son, their son a child they had raised together so many years ago, keeping him warm, keeping him safe.

While her choice in night wear could never be described as fetching - a modest, worn flannel nightgown that clashed terribly with his red, too large socks half dangling from her small feet, the sight of the them both sleeping was one of the most beautiful things his decidedly non-poetic soul had ever witnessed. While his son’s expression was that of a child completely at ease, the woman who was watching over him, even in sleep, was protective.

For a moment, he was tempted to let them continue sleeping, wanting nothing more than to simply watch them sleep, but duty demanded he do otherwise.

Quietly, he entered the guest room and knelt down beside the sleeping pair. Careful not to disturb the sleeping boy, he reached out and gently brushed an errant lock of hair way from Tokio’s face, exposing her face, half hidden in shadow. (Gods, she’s beautiful) She was awake instantly, as he knew she would be, her initial expression of alarm, softening when her eyes met his.

Rather than removing his hand, he let it linger for a moment, savoring the contact of her skin against his. Two days. They’d had two days together. Without thinking, he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, thankfully no longer bruised and sore. The desire to kiss her was nearly overwhelming, but he forced himself not to. It wouldn’t be fair to Tokio and he had always tried to be a fair man.

He motioned that he would pick Tsutomu up and she nodded, though he could see she regretted letting the boy go. He regretted it as well, but there was nothing that could be done about it. “Meet me in the kitchen” he whispered so softly that his deep voice was nearly inaudible. She nodded and while her face was a study in control, her grey eyes were stark.

When she’d come to his office to return his sidearm, he’d asked her trust him. He hoped that despite the discussion they needed to have, that trust she’d placed in him would hold out. So much depended on it. On her. Nodding, he stood up, cradling Tsutomu in his arms. The boy was getting heavier, taller, his limbs becoming lanky, whispering of inevitable adolescence. Carefully, Saitoh carried his son into the bedroom that he shared with his younger brother. Laying him down on his bed, Saitoh covered Tsutomu with a light blanket.

Softly, as he had tried to every morning for over a year, once he’d committed himself to sobriety and earning the right to raise his boys on his own, he gently ruffled the boy’s hair and whispered that he loved him, then repeated the gesture with his youngest boy. He was careful and quiet enough that the boys never woke up. That had never been the point of this daily habit. It was a reminder of what he was fighting for and that he had so much to make up for.

Saitoh stood up and soundlessly left the room, carefully closing the door behind him so that his discussion with Tokio would remain private.

His walk down the hall seemed like an eternity.

[saitoh_hajime]

Saitoh had almost finished his first cigarette of the morning. The irony of smoking inside on a day that the whole city was on high alert due to severe air pollution was not lost on him and was a quiet reminder of his addiction-prone personality.

Like so many in young men serving in the army, he’d picked up smoking as a means of coping with the stress of being in a constant state of war. His took one last drag and held it for a moment, before exhaling the smoke slowly through his nostrils as he crushed the smoldering cigarette butt in an ashtray as he heard Tokio coming down the hallway.

She’d taken longer than expected to meet him, as requested, in the kitchen. When she appeared from around the corner, neatly dressed in blue, her long hair pulled back, her delay made sense. In their very separate ways, they’d prepared as best they were able for a conversation that neither of them wanted to have or were ready for.

While his parents, like him, had been anything but perfect, one of the many good things they’d drilled into his thick skull from a very young age was that when a lady entered a room, you stood up. He did so, automatically and motioned that she sit down at the table, where they’d shared a meal as a family the night before. Going to the coffee maker to pour her a cup of fresh coffee, Saitoh side eyed the woman as she sat down at the table, noting that she’d selected to sit beside him. From a strategic perspective this seemed good. Had she sat across from him as if preparing to cross examine someone dumb enough to get on her radar, that would have shown that she was putting her emotional defenses up.

(Not that I’d blame her if she did…)

Still, she was doing her duty as he was doing his.

Saitoh handed Tokio the steaming cup of coffee and then sat down beside her.

“Tsutomu,” he said, “he remembers who are you.” It wasn’t stated as a question, but a fact. “Who you…who we used to be.” His kid was smart and as wary as a three-legged, blind cat in a room full of mousetraps and would have never placed himself in such a vulnerable position unless it was with a member of his family, someone he trusted.

Saitoh took a sip of the coffee. It was decent, hotter than hell and the darkest roast he could find. 10 hours on a slow burn until it resembled asphalts paving would have made it better, but at 06:00 hours, your options were usually limited.

“How’s the boy taking it?”

[saitoh_hajime]

Saitoh nodded as Tokio quietly shared her observations regarding Tsutomu.

Children will sometimes blame themselves for causing things beyond their control….

She looked away from him then, towards the now fully lit window. The still bloody sun cast dark shadows across her delicate features, making the attorney appear weary rather than just sad. A small sigh escaped her, the tiny exhalation speaking volumes.

“My drinking?” It went without saying.

She nodded. “Yes.” Her speaking style was direct and honest, but wrapped in a measure of compassion that his never would be.

“Tell me,” Only for this woman, would an order become a request. It was clear she was hurting, just as his son was. As he was the source of their mutual discomfort, his natural inclination was to do whatever was necessary to remedy the situation.

(Idiot. This is something you will never be able to make right.) He'd spent a year fighting tooth and nail to keep his promise to remain sober. The remediation for the harm he'd caused would take nothing short of a lifetime.

[saitoh_hajime]

Saitoh listened and said nothing as Tokio recounted the conversation she’d had with Tsutomu. She had an excellent memory.

There was so much to process, much of it painful and unpleasant. While he’d anticipated a measure of what the slender attorney sitting beside him was now recounting, the severity of the situation with Tsutomu was unexpected and deeply troubling. His child was at a breaking point.

(How did I miss this?)

Saitoh’s jaw tightened painfully as the degree of suffering that his son was experiencing was laid bare before him. The answer came to him, almost immediately, and while it brought no comfort to the situation, it did provide an explanation for why the lapse in strategic planning had occurred.

(Moron…there has been no strategy...only survival) Staying alive long enough to attain sobriety and get his kids back had been all he could manage. In desperate times, triage was a necessary, but there were always repercussions as some wounds and conditions were relegated as less critical than others.

Tokio was also struggling. Burdens, heavy ones, had been thrust on her with no warning, no time to prepare. She was tough enough not to flinch from the truth and soften the blow by being anything less than completely honest about the situation, but she was also human, for god sakes. The urge to try and comfort was strong, but this was not the time or place for such sentimentality and with the exception of a singular hand squeeze and a dark smirk when the well raised woman went so far as to swear about his sister, his face throughout Tokio’s explanation was a study in sternness.

"Fear is an awful adversary, one that can make a person doubt everything, everyone...especially themselves." Voice dropping an octave, Saitoh continued, "I know from experience that if you don't face it, it will utterly consume a human being and everyone they hold dear. Tsutomu needs to understand this as well."

“You already know that I have been remiss in my responsibilities as a father." There was no bitter recrimination in his low voice, only the flatness of hard fact. “My experiences, while making me an adept soldier and officer, are not well suited for the task of properly raising small children. I appreciate your candor and will speak with Tsutomu about his concerns.”

Saitoh paused and then, reminding himself severely that he wasn’t in a damn staff de-briefing at the police station, reached out and gently cupped the side of Tokio’s beautiful face for a moment. He could feel the bones of her jaw beneath his calloused fingers. She was, for all of her ferocious intelligence and honor, still delicate. Breakable.

“Thank you for being there for him last night.” It was not lost on him that his son had desperately sought out the company, wisdom and comfort of a woman who was still, in so many ways, a stranger rather than confide in his father. He was sure that it was not lost on Tokio either.

“I will not discount the discomfort that his emerging memories are causing. We're both adults and it's been confusing as hell." Saitoh thought about how his own realization and subsequent acceptance of past lives colliding with present ones had been difficult and at times, bewildering, “That being said, recalling exactly who you are puts Tsutomu at an advantage he would not otherwise have at this critical juncture. While young, the boy has good instincts and is following them.”

Saitoh looked at Tokio for a long moment and then followed his child’s example.

“I must do the same, if we’re to survive.” Saitoh said. “The past two days have radically changed the trajectories of our lives and that of Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi."

This was the part he’d warned her about.

“In light of my recent promotion, his voice was laced with acid at the unwanted irony, “the statistical likelihood of me being killed in the line of duty has now moved from the realm of highly possible to quite probable.”

Memories of pulling a limp little girl out of a partially melted pink car seat came to mind. Already dead, the child’s face (what was left of it) had been set in a rictus of pain and terror. “The children are now, even more so than before, desirable, active targets to various criminal elements and are in serious danger. I’m going to have to have to transfer them to a safer school and secure a reliable, private security detail." He sure as hell wasn’t going to rely on the city to do that for him. “In the next few days, their lives are going to be upended.”

Saitoh was ruthless in his honesty but his eyes softened slightly as he forced the next part out. Perhaps Tokio's compassion was of the contagious variety. “While my odds and that of the boys have significantly worsened, yours are unchanged. Your courage, abilities as a prosecutor and a formidable weapon of the court are outstanding, but you lack the necessary experience and combat training to survive by yourself in this hellhole of a city. Dammit, Tokio, you’ll be dead within three months if things remain as they are.”

He shook his head sharply, anger and regret making his voice sharper than he wanted it to be. “Yaso’s death nearly killed me. "Another loss of a similar nature, will, without question, prove fatal.”

“Once I took what I had for granted and nearly lost everything. I will not make that mistake again.” He took a breath, exhaled slowly and then added, his eyes fixed hard on hers. “If worse comes to worse, my children can't be fostered off again on Katsu where they would be viewed as a burden rather than a blessing. Help me protect them and give them a real chance at living a proper life, one that has potential."

“Stay here, Tokio. Stay with me. Give me the chance and the time to give you the training and support you need to stay alive.”

[saitoh_hajime]

(What a difference a lifetime makes.)

Sitting at the kitchen table, the two of them illuminated by filthy winter sunlight, Saitoh couldn’t help but recall memories of similar discussions a lifetime before.

He looked down at the hard grip Tokio had on his hand, the protective gesture the same in this era as it had been hundreds of years prior. For all her kindness, she was a fierce woman, who had been willing to suffer, just as he had, for the betterment of others, especially their children.

For the security of his family he’d uprooted them, isolated them, forced them to live by aliases and spent more time away from those he loved best to try and build a strong foundation for society. Tokio had born these necessary burdens without a word of complaint. He’d led and she’d always followed him, trusting in his ability to do rightly by her and their children and keep them safe and sound despite the dangerous times they lived in.

In this life, however, Tokio was not, nor would she ever be a passive partner. Unquestionably, she was his equal in every way and had no qualms about giving her opinions, pushing back when she disagreed with him and moving forward as she saw fit, boldly and without regret. The fact she was determined to watch out for Tsutomu, to be the protector and advocate that his son needed, only made him love her more.

“I’ll do my best to convey those thoughts to him,” he promised. There was steel beneath the silk of her words. Despite being an innocent, having not being intimate with a man, to say nothing of giving birth to children in this existence, her instincts were strong, those of a mother, and a mother was the most dangerous of any species when a child’s safety was on the line.

As the conversation deepened like volleys, her expression became as somber as his.

He’d known this morning’s discussion, like those in the past, while absolutely necessary, would be difficult. As any good officer would before a battle, he’d tried to prepare Tokio for this moment, had tried to steel himself to be what needed to be done. Things were being said that could not be taken back, topics brought up that were gut wrenching. Mechanically, he’d provide what perspective he could, cold statistical data about how long each of them would expect to remain living in light of all the changes that taken place in the course of 72 hours. While he’d long accepted the potential fate of dying in the line of duty, acknowledging that Tsutomu and Tsuyoshi were in danger of becoming human collateral was an achy, icy blow to both the mind and heart.

People who lived safe, easy lives were all too willing to describe some inane issue as “life or death”. Inwardly he sneered and wondered how many of the simpering asshats would have the balls…err…or in Tokio’s case, lady bits to actually shoulder the burdens of such a thing. While it was his sworn duty as well as Tokio’s to keep the citizenry safe, or at least provide the best illusion of one as possible, there were far too many bleating sheep in New Meiji who took so much for granted and failed to realize that in every society, security always had and always would come at a very high cost.

Willful ignorance was disgraceful and those who indulged in it were soft, foolish, cowardly, a trifecta of fuck-wittery if there was one. This was no skirmish they were engaged in, it was a strategic discussion of the utmost importance, one that would influence the rest of their lives and that his…no, dammit!...their children.

Don't sugar coat it with me, Hajime. I think that you are being generous. I doubt if I would last longer than another couple of weeks on my own. His composure broke for a moment at the forced control her voice, at her hard, less optimistic assessment of her lifespan and his eyes began to burn, naked grief and horror at the idea of her demise savaging his features. Unwilling to let her such an embarrassing lack of self-control, he looked away for a moment, back to the window with its bloody sunlight shining through.

Relief flooded through him when Tokio confirmed that the boys could not go back to his sister in the event he was killed doing his duty. She was willing to help, to guide him in raising the boys far better than he ever could by himself. The fact she actively remembered his older siblings across multiple lifetimes and hated the woman’s guts was testament to Tokio’s unerring instincts. She dismissed them, but they were strong and as straight as a saber. Her instincts, he knew, would help save them all.

She was going to stay with him. Be with him. With her present, this awful, aching shade of a house, would truly become a home again, a joyful, safe place.

All of you need help. Your house is large enough to accommodate another person. It would be my privilege and honor to do what I can to lend stability to your household and to help you and the boys. Saitoh nodded, his approval clear, as she agreed to his request. Like him, she was pragmatic and sensible even in the face of damning odds and difficulties. She knew that she’d been his wife and he’d been her husband and that this life would be a continuation of the previous one.

(This is going better than I had anticipated) Not an optimist by a long shot, this was a pleasant development.

I will take you up on your offer to continue training me…

(Yes, things were definitely on the upswing)

…That is another good reason for me to stay here because it will be more convenient.

“I agree,” he began, preparing to switch gears and ask her to tell him more about her conversation with Tsutomu. “Getting married is the logical course of action....Wait. What?”

Convenient

Instincts of his own began sounding off, as rusty and out of practice as they were after three years.

“Tokio?”

Something, perhaps his stomach, iced over like a shallow puddle at the first blast of winter and then sank as he took in the woman’s expression. The light…her light…was dying in her storm grey eyes as if the breathtaking hope and utter joy he’d seen shining in them the morning before when she’s acknowledged who she was to him was being cruelly dashed on sharp tidal rocks.

There were many things that were convenient in life. Finding a spare package of cigarettes in a desk drawer was convenient, green lights during car chases were convenient, having boys who finally had the sense to lift a toilet lid up when they had to take a leak was convenient (and far less messy) but this was not that.

Being reunited with his better half, the woman that he would kill for without a moment’s hesitation was not a convenience. She was the focal point of his existence.

And then, impossibly, she THANKED him for trying to keep her alive and by his side and bowing her head as she if owed him, murmured quietly that she and her family would be forever grateful.

(Hells Bells) Clearly his notion that the discussion had been going well was incorrect. Damnably so.

“Tokio. Look at me.”

Impatiently, worriedly, he caught her chin with his fingers and gently brought her aching, expressive gaze up to his. What he saw hurt. She was hurting. His eyes widened as he took in grief, resignation, anything but the joy he’d been expecting, the joy that he himself had been feeling only seconds before.

Convenient. Is that what she thought marriage would be, as unconventional as the arrangement was?

Had he been wrong about what she wanted?

Did she still want him? After she’d seen him so weak, so broken the night before, he wouldn’t blame her if she’d changed her mind.

“What…” his words died, becoming ash in his mouth.

“Tokio,” He finally was able to rasp out her name without sounding like a ninny. “I promised you that I’d not take anything you weren’t willing to give.”

“Is this not what you want?” No longer sure, he removed his hand from her face.

He steeled himself against the sharp disappointment that was already coursing through his bloodstream like a poison.

“I will, of course, respect your wishes in this matter.”

[tokio_takagi]

Tokio was very pleased that the Major planned to take her suggestion about how to approach Tsutomu. It warmed her heart to know that he valued her opinion now, just as he had in their shared past. Sometimes she needed to gently remind the man that he was dealing with little boys who had fragile hearts, not a squad of battle hardened men.

“Getting married is the logical course of action....”

Tokio's eyes opened wide in surprise but she did not turn to look at him. She just hung onto his hand. Could she really trust her ears? She felt like she had definitely missed something in this discussion they were having.

Marriage? Did he really say that word? Tokio was stunned into silence. How could she have misread this conversation? Is that what her former husband was trying to say to her? The attorney wondered how she could be so clueless

"Tokio?”

"Yes," she stammered in reply.

“Tokio. Look at me.”

She didn't have a choice as his hand reached for her chin and gently guided it so she was facing him, having no option but to look at him. What she saw in his face broke her heart.

“What..."

The attorney could tell he was at loss for words, which concerned and scared her because that never happened before when they were immersed in a serious discussion.

“Tokio, I promised you that I’d not take anything you weren’t willing to give. Is this not what you want?”

The loss of warmth from his hand when he drew away gave her an empty feeling which led her to realize that she was going to have to be the one who was direct, because he was confused about her feelings for him. She wondered how both of them could have misread what was in each other's heart.

Tokio knew why. It was because neither wanted to pressure or push the other as to whether they should resume the life they shared two hundred years ago. Both were giving the utmost consideration to the other, presuming nothing. In addition there was no way the attorney would push him to commit to a relationship if he was still mired in the tragic events of this era

Hajime was so good at clearly articulating anything other than matters having to do with relationships, or love. How could she have been so stupid not read between the lines to discern what he was really telling her. Hadn't she been much better at doing that in the past? She rationalized that, where he was concerned, she had been out of practice for a couple of centuries.

Tokio's emotions were running wild, a mixture of joy, relief and now a dawning understanding of what this wonderful, decent man whom she loved dearly was trying to let her know.

“I will, of course, respect your wishes in this matter.”

This matter? This matter? If she didn't love him so much she sure would have taken issue with those words (love and life-long commitment were no mere 'matter') until it quickly dawned on her that his choice of words had to be his way of protecting himself, of bracing himself to hear something he would rather not hear.

Oh Hajime..," she let out, turning in the chair so she could throw both arms around his neck. Pulling him closer, pressing her cheek against his chest, Tokio blurted out, voice full of remorse, "I... am... so... sorry....please forgive me." The attorney was mortified at how badly she'd misinterpreted what he was trying to tell her.

Realizing that she caused her former husband such grief resulted in a feeling of guilt, accompanied by a sharp pain, to well in her chest. Tears were now coursing down Tokio's cheeks. She really had to stop doing this. His shirt was going to get damp with her tears for the second time in two days.

"Please forgive me for misunderstanding you," she spoke softly into his shirt. "I didn't know if you were ready yet, to move past what happened to Yaso-san, so you could devote yourself to someone else...to me." Tokio sniffled before continuing, "I was willing to stand beside you, support you and wait for you no matter how long it took. "

"What I really want, if you want me to stay with you," she continued,"is to be your wife again." Tokio's voice was now a mere whisper, "That is all I ever wanted, Hajime. You are all I ever wanted, then and now." She'd just voiced her heart's only desire to him, her long lost, but now found, better half.

[saitoh_hajime]

The first manual Saitoh Hajime ever read was regarding the mechanics of throwing a baseball. He’d been six, left handed and frustrated with half-wits who wouldn’t teach him properly and had, with single minded intensity, read and re-read the guide to his favorite sport and then applied what he’d learned into the action of throwing a baseball as fast and accurately as possible. His perseverance and an eidetic memory served him well. Throughout school and into university, his position on the team as the pitcher, one with a superb sense of accuracy and a mean streak a mile wide, was a blessing for his team mates and a curse for opposing teams.

In the army it had been the same. Unlike some officers, like Okita who had volunteered for the service, he’d been drafted and aside from studying akido and kendo for years, lacked any military experience. The remedy for his lack of knowledge had been the same and he’d devoured every scrap and data set of information he could and then methodically applied them to learning how to keep him and his men alive, the mechanics and psychology of strategy, and had mastered the brutal methodology of how to kill, quickly and efficiently.

Fond of very few things, Saitoh had a deep and abiding appreciation for a well written field guide about how to assemble a percussion PED, an in-depth chemistry text about meta-amphetamines or a good manual about the latest handgun model. It made for good reading and was a tried and true way to help his analytical mind make sense of a world that was anything but logical.

Oh, Hajime…

As Tokio threw her arms around his neck, pulling him tight against her and nearly sending them both to the floor (the kitchen chairs were apparently not built to handle the demands of strong, fast moving attorneys) Saitoh wished, and not for the first time, that a comprehensive manual - a good one - with illustrations and everything, existed that could explain the deep mysteries and subtle intricacies of women.

He had no problem with the abnormal psychologies of psychopaths, pyromaniacs and sexual predators. Divining the thoughts and feelings of a well-adapted, intelligent woman who, despite being one of the toughest prosecuting attorneys in the country, was also remarkably kind and tenderhearted, was proving rather tricky.

I am so sorry. Please forgive me.

Being baffled was an unfamiliar experience for him, one that he decided was of the unpleasant variety. Instinctively, he steadied her and in doing so steadied himself. One arm tightened around her waist while the other found purchase at the back of her head, the soft, errant strands of hair that had escaped the hair band tangled in his fingers and he held her close. He could feel the wet, warm evidence of her tears as they saturated his t-shirt. She was crying. He hated it when she did that, especially when the physical evidence suggested he was the cause of her consternation.

Please forgive me for misunderstanding you. I didn't know if you were ready yet, to move past what happened to Yaso-san, so you could devote yourself to someone else...to me. Her voice was so soft, not much more than a whisper against his chest.

And there it was.

Clarity.

Saitoh became very still and her words sank into him, not unlike the tears she’d shed.

I was willing to stay beside you, support you and wait for you no matter how long it took.”

He knew this to be true. It was, and had always been her nature to support him, even when it was damn near impossible. He in turn had always tried to do the same for her, though in times such as this, he had to wonder about the efficacy of this attempts.

What I really want, if you want me to stay with you is to be your wife again. That’s all I ever wanted, Hajime. You are all I ever wanted, then and now.

Saitoh pulled back a little so that he could look at her properly, finally understanding. There was a palpable ghost in the room, though not of a dead woman, a murdered wife he had loved deeply and missed every day. This specter, one that he could feel weighing down on them both, was one born from suffering and grief and uncertainty.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to completely move past what happened,” he said, honestly. “The death of a loved one causes trauma and leaves a scar, no matter how benign the manner of passing may have been. What those fucking bastards did to Yaso…finding her savaged, torn apart the way I did…” He bent down; his forehead was touching hers. “Tokio, it broke me.”

Tucked up tightly against him, Tokio gave a soft cry and shifted, the embrace becoming fierce and protective, as if she was willing to put herself and everything she had to offer on the line for him. Famished, Saitoh took what she offered and pulled her up onto the chair with him. It took a couple of tries and some minor cussing on Saitoh’s part for them to fit. They were tall and long legged. The chair was short and rather inflexible. In the end, they came up with something that worked, her straddling him, their arms around each other, holding on tightly, like their lives depended on it.

There.

This was better.

Saitoh exhaled, finding comfort in the weight of her body against his own. Her heart was beating rapidly against his. The clean scent of her skin and hair overpowered the sharp tang of regret and fear,

“For years, it was all I could do to stay alive, to try and claw some semblance of existence for myself and the boys. You’ve seen the results of that effort.” There was no recrimination in the accounting, which surprised Saitoh. “And, until we met in that damn café, I truly thought that the struggle of living day to day would be the end sum of my existence. You proved me wrong.”

Trying to explain the difference she’d already made in his life was like trying to describe the global movement of tectonic plates in seven words or less. So, he kissed her. Sometimes actions were easier to manage than words. Her lips were soft, tinged with tear-salt. His mouth was, in that moment, not hard and grim, but something else entirely.

When they parted, his heart rate was nearly as fast as hers had been. “As for this ridiculous business of not knowing whether or not I wanted you to say with me…” Saitoh gave her a look, his tone becoming slightly chiding. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

Tokio opened her mouth, as if to respond. Saitoh took this as an excellent opportunity for a preemptive tactical assault and kissed her again. This seal was harder, more possessive. “You’re the first woman I’ve touched in over three years, Tokio...” He leaned back a little so she could see him. There would be no doubt how much she meant to him, no room for second guessing his intentions. His amber eyes were hot, his expression ferocious. “As long as I live, there will be no other.”

A more civilized man wouldn’t have growled before pulling the object of his affections close. Saitoh didn’t care. Ruthlessly, he caught her lips with his and the kiss, open mouthed, breath becoming harsh, was blatant, the desire searing in its clarity. One handed, he reached up and tugged the hair band aside, wanting to feel the dark curtain of her hair fall around them both. His other hand, the one he shot with, was splayed against the small of her back, pulling her close until their hips met. Virginal or not, he knew that Tokio would be able to feel the impact she was having on his body, on him. When it came to this woman, his wife, societal niceties were thrown by the wayside.

“Dammit, woman…” he rasped after a minute or so, getting a breath in before going back to the serious work of kissing her senseless. “…I even gave you my favorite gun."

[saitoh_hajime]

Even then I knew you wouldn't give your favorite gun to just anyone.

Saitoh grinned back at the woman, pleased to see that the light in her eyes had returned and was, unlike the sun outside, shining brightly. Even smiling, the expressions was a tad on the predatory side of the smile spectrum. Oh, well.

“If by anyone you mean no-one, other than yourself, then you are correct,” he said, affirming her words with a soft flick of his finger to her forehead. "In my line of work, transferring the registered DNA of a handgun to another individual, especially in the middle of a gunfight, is akin to exchanging bodily fluids.” He smiled at the tender memory her shooting a criminal neatly, sending a high-powered round right through the forehead.

And then, he thought about this clarifying comment for a moment, all brevity aside, and about the miscommunication that had occurred between them. It had provided him with evidence on two fronts; the first being that the woman in his arms harbored fears about his ability to fully commit to her in light of all that transpired over the past three years. And while she had nothing to worry about, as a promise made was a promise kept, these concerns were understandable, concerns that only the passage of time and the rightness in his actions towards her would assuage.

(By her own admission, she was willing to wait for me. I would be remiss to do anything but the same.)

The second realization born from this morning conversation was that he’d probably botched things up (again) in the matter of confirming their mutual desire to wed.

Thankfully, this was easier to rectify.

“Takagi Tokio,” While warmth remained, his expression became serious. This was, after all, a serious matter. “Will you marry me?”

[tokio_takagi]

He gave her a smile, one of his true, genuine smiles. She hadn't seen one of those grace his face since their marriage eons ago. It meant that he was very happy for which she was very pleased. It meant a lot to her to know that he could feel that way again, especially after the events of the past three years.

She was sure that he could see the amusement on her face as he further explained about his favorite gun. Only he would describe a transfer in that way. She wasn't worried about competition from another woman, and never would be. However, the man loved his firearms (and katanas back in the day), not surprising since they were what kept him alive in dire situations liked the two of them faced at the Sunshine Café.

"Takagi Tokio, will you marry me?"

To Tokio this was truly a heart melting moment. She felt she was close to exploding with joy. In her mind there were no sweeter, more longed for words than those four that he'd just said to her.

She answered with no hesitation. Certainty in her voice. "Yes, Hajime. Of course I will." She punctuated her answer with a light kiss on his lips. She was sure that her face radiated the boundless joy that welled from deep inside her.


"Thank you, Hajime," she whispered to him, pulling back a little from the light kiss she'd just planted. Her best smile spreading across her face, she leaned in to him again, giving him one very passionate smooch, indicating that she was pleased beyond words that he had asked her properly. There was no need to spell it out to the man. He would pickup on it.

"Before we tie the knot," she told him giving him one more light kiss on his lips, "there are some things that I want you to know." Some were light, some were of a more serious nature, but all she needed to tell him was sincere.

Now that she knew they were getting married, Tokio recognized there would be no better time than now to clarify what she thought was the cause of their communication glitch, which caused this whole marriage misunderstanding in the first place. In this era the poor man was going to have to get used to having an attorney for a wife, a woman who couldn't help but outline all the pertinent facts relating to a case, not only at work, but in their household, as well. There was no time like the present to let the Major know what he'd really gotten himself into when he decided to resume the marriage they shared all those years ago.

"This misinterpretation of our feelings toward each other happened, in my opinion, because neither of us," she stated matter-of-factly, "wanted to push, pressure or presume anything about a future together, giving each other the utmost consideration to make an unbiased decision in this 'Matter'." She couldn't help but emphasize the last word. The attorney had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, but she couldn't take the brightness out of her eyes or the smile crinkles surrounding them. Oh. he was going to spend the rest of their life together trying to make up for that one, for referring to their marriage as a mere 'Matter'.

She very lightly poked him in the stomach with her index finger to get his attention, even though she was fairly certain she had it already. But it was tit-for-tat since he'd flicked her gently on the forehead, one of his favorite gestures of affection during their first marriage.

"Hajime, you are not off the hook for referring to our impending marriage in that manner, as a "Matter'," she told him indignantly before continuing with a low, sultry tone of voice, "I don't think I need to spell out to you when and how you can make this up to me completely," even if he had to wait until they were officially married to accomplish that mission. She ended with a twinkle in her eye.

Tokio's expression became more thoughtful before continuing. "There is something else," her eyes softening as she spoke, her voice taking on a serious tone, "When you leave me could you please...turn around and look back before you go out the door." It had been one of the more heartbreaking things she had to endure all those years ago. When he left her to go on assignment...he never...ever, looked back...he only kept moving forward. She never told him how sad it made her feel, because she always wanted to see his face just one more time in case the worst happened.

Her voice took a lighter tone again as she finished what was on her mind. He was going go think she was dictating the terms of a contract after everything she'd spilled out to him in the kitchen this morning. "There is one last thing I want you to do for me after we are married." She gave him a sly smile. He may not like this one, since he was so dedicated to getting his work done whether it was at the precinct or finishing up at home during his stint with the MPD after the Bakumatsu.

"If I catch you up out of bed doing paperwork in the middle of the night, you have to promise me that if I ask you to come back to bed, you will do it and stay with me at least until I fall asleep again." The man never did get enough sleep in those days and Tokio was going to do her best to make sure that didn't happen in this era.

At least he had let her have her say and hadn't tried to shut her up this time by kissing her.

[saitoh_hajime]

While this tactical campaign had not been without a few very minor mishaps, Saitoh was pleased that things appeared to ending in victory for all parties. He liked winning.

Yes, Hajime. Of course I will. She thanked him then, which was crazy, since he was clearly the one getting the better end of the bargain, and then gave him a light kiss.

Tokio was happy, brilliantly so. The light in her eyes, so unique to the woman in his arms, was hot and stronger than the sun. Things were settled (despite his earlier blunder in asking) and there was mutual confirmation that marriage was the logical course of action.

This was good.

And then, to his surprise (this, unlike being caught under sniper fire was of the decidedly positive variety) leaned forward and kissed him. Really kissed him Pushing him back against the beleaguered kitchen chair, she assaulted his senses. Hands fisting the fabric of his t-shirt, she was pressed up against him, breasts pressed up against his chest, her mouth hot and demanding.

This was very good.

He responded. Hell, a man would have to be a eunuch not to. The kiss became wild. Tokio rocked her hips against his and with a growl Saitoh returned the motion. The chair creaked, complaining. Saitoh decided that rather than risking a broken kitchen chair, he’d just have to throw Tokio on the table and have his way with her. Tables were sturdy and would support what he had in mind.

And then, she broke away. She broke away from what they were doing. What the hell...

Before we tie the knot, there are some things that I want you to know.

Saitoh gave her a hungry look. The table was beckoning.

And then she surprised him. Again. Damn the woman, he was the one who was supposed to be adapt at ambushes, not her!

Up to this point in their rather expedited courtship and throughout their married lives in Meiji 1, he’d been the one to dominate the relationship. He led, she followed (for the most part). He acted, she reacted. That’s the way it had been and up until the moment the dark haired little minx began to outline her expectations and conditions regarding their pending nuptial state with the aplomb of a seasoned attorney, he’d naturally assumed that in this existence and for the duration of the rest of their lives, a similar pattern would follow suit.

Apparently not.

Saitoh raised an eyebrow when she poked him in the stomach. Clearly, she didn’t know who she was messing with. He gave a side glance at the table and made a mental note to make sure she found out. He tried to sideline the discussion by kissing her. It didn’t work. She was adamant that she clearly set forth the terms and conditions of their future life together.

He was in deep shit for referring to the matter of their marriage as a “matter”. Fine. He was guilty as charged. He did decide that the sentence she was handing down to him (even if it was going to be postponed until after they’d made things official) was quite reasonable. The low, sexy way she promised retribution was nothing short of delightful. He told her as much, the best way he knew how.

Tokio also wanted him to look back at her before he left, whether he was leaving for work or going on an extended assignment. As he thought about it (since doing anything on the table was clearly out) this request also made sense. There had been times, far too many, that he’d left Tokio and his children behind and had never looked back, never considered what his leaving really entailed. Duty was duty and that’s all there was to it.

There had been one time however, when Tsutomu had been young and Tokio had been pregnant with Tsuyoshi that he’d left abruptly for a dangerous mission, giving her no time to prepare for his absence, a separation that ended up being months in duration.

(She wept as she shut the door behind me…) Walking away, he’d heard his wife sobbing raggedly and it had taken all of his self-control not to turn back and give what comfort he could considering the circumstances.

“I promise,” he said and meant it.

The third condition, however posed complications.

If I catch you up out of bed doing paperwork in the middle of the night, you have to promise me that if I ask you to come back to bed, you will do it and stay with me at least until I fall asleep again.

Saitoh considered what she was asking carefully as he categorically refused to make a promise that he couldn’t keep. His workload, already heavy, was going to exponentially increase along with the responsibilities he now held and long nights were a given.

“That, I can’t guarantee,” he said, “though I will try to be mindful of …” he was about to say the matter, but wisely reconsidered “…balancing my responsibilities.”

Tokio raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that he suspected made opposing counsel run for cover. “I’ll take this under consideration, though you should anticipate that additional negotiations are likely.”

Did he ever.

“As long as said negotiations occur in the aforementioned bed, I agree.” She wasn’t the only one who could speak legalese. Saitoh wasn’t in the habit of negotiating much of anything, but in her case, he was willing to make the occasional exception.

Speaking of bed...two boys were out of theirs.

Saitoh swore as he heard the patter of little feet coming down the hallway. Tokio heard it as well and quickly moved to get off him, which under most circumstances was the right thing to do. However, after the last kiss she’d given him, there was a certain complication (in his pants) that he was not ready to discuss with two little boys. He shook his head and glanced down in the general area where the complication was happily situated. Tokio’s gaze followed his. His eyes widened and a deep blush spread across her nose and cheeks. She nodded, though her expression was on the sly side, and smartly stayed put.

“Why is Takagi-san sitting on your lap?” Tsuyoshi asked, “Are you reading her a story?”

Saitoh pursed his lips, not remotely sure how to respond.

“Your father and I were having a discussion,” Tokio came to the rescue, adroitly redirecting the child by asking him if he’d slept well.

Tsutomu on the other hand was not so easily manipulated. Eyes narrowing, he gave his father a long, steady look. Saitoh thought about what Tokio had revealed to him this morning. His eldest son was struggling and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to complicate an already confusing situation for the boy.

After a moment, the corner of Tsutomu’s mouth quirked up into a small, almost knowing smirk. His kid wasn’t a moron.

Tsutomu then looked at Tokio and his bemused expression changed, becoming almost tender. It was clear that in the aftermath of his nighttime conversation with Tokio that something had shifted between them, that an understanding had been established between the boy and the woman who’d been in mother so many years before.

“We should go and make our beds,” Tsutomu said, tone voice suggesting that the two adults were not quite off the hook, but that he was willing to try and help out as an older brother ought. “Come on.” He took his younger brother by the hand and led him down the hall.

END OF THREAD