Odds and Ends

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. Watsuki owns the RK characters but the OCs, ideas, plot and words are *mine*. Story written for non-profit purpose.

Edited for disclaimer. Thanks to Firuze, Anon and Firiel11 for their reviews.

Odds and Ends

A Saitoh/Tokio blanket scenario

Chapter 1: Odd encounter

Fukushima prefecture, December 1874.

Damn it. He had no idea of where he was anymore. He was lost in an infinite of white, a humid, cold white, feet sinking into the friable ground, legs numbed as each step was more of an effort to extract them from the heavy mantle recovering the soil, violent wind changing the apparently inoffensive flakes into sharp kunai as they penetrated the wound on his flank, blurring his view as they melted in his eyes. He stopped, his breathing painful, each inhalation of pure oxygen freezing his lungs from inside.

“It should be near…”

His sudden stop had yanked the woman closer into his arms, and her words, shouted against his ear, burnt his skin, her grasping his waist in an attempt not to lose her balance making him wince. She tried to drag him forward, stubbornly.

“You said the same hours ago,” he snarled, teeth gritted.

She didn’t listen, and her hand attempting to pull him forward entered the open trace made by his opponent’s blade. He didn’t feel it as first, anesthetic cold preventing him from realizing until it was too late. The overwhelming pain struck his brain, and the white world turned dark, dissolving into nothingness.

***

Better. Damp, still cold and uncomfortable, but definitively better.

Saitoh sat up, wide awake, his hand extending to grab his sword, and not finding it. A hurtful pinch in his ribcage made him growl. He looked around, blinking as the fire just next to him blinded him briefly. His blade had been deposed against a pile of logs, in the corner of the room on the right of the foyer, his clothes suspended to the ceiling on the left. It wasn’t a room, he realized, but a small cabin. Very small: it shouldn’t have been larger than 5 jou. The floor was old, crackled wood, with a cavity where was the stony foyer, an iron bar crossing it upon the flames and a nabe on the ground next to it, as well as a long pick and a few devices. Saitoh was on an old futon, spread between the fireplace and the entrance. He shivered: the shoji was thankfully complete, in spite of its dirtiness, but it didn’t block the cold enough, with the storm hissing furiously outside. He looked down at the glaringly ancient and thinned blanket, that he had been wrapped into.

Who…

He was trying to stand up when a whirl of freezing wind hit his naked back. Turning around, he saw a figure rushing in, letting a wooden bucket drop on the floor and closing quickly the shoji, securing it with a plank. The move had made the coat, his coat, fall to the floor, revealing a mess of long black hair.

The woman. He remembered now.

She turned and bent to retrieve the bucket, stopping her gesture neat when she crossed his gaze, her mouth rounding on a surprised sigh. His trained eyes swept over her, taking in every detail. Her royal blue kimono was soaked and ruined by their walking in the snow, but the quality of it was obvious; her hands red and swollen by the cold, but he could see that they were not a worker’s; and as for the length of her hair, reaching her hips in spite of its tangled state, her delicately aristocratic features and her poised composure, they confirmed again that she was indeed what she and the bastards had told. Hence instead of jumping on his katana, he stayed still, his gaze exploring hers. She had clear eyes, that he had vaguely noticed, and now, in the light of the fire, he could see that they were gray.

“You’re already awake? I thought that it would take you longer,” she remarked, slight surprise still tainting her voice.

Without waiting for an answer, breaking the eye contact, she walked to him to place the recipient next to the fire. It was full of snow.

“The cold wasn’t good for your wound. I was going to take care of it,” she explained, before she went to retrieve his discarded coat and to suspend it with his other clothes.

He stared at her, baffled. She was acting as if they were in a very normal situation, not like she was stuck in the middle of nowhere in those damn mountains, with a complete stranger….whom she had seen executing 6 men without an afterthought.

These men had kidnapped her, he corrected. That was explaining logically her attitude towards him. To finish placing the situation in perspective, *she* knew where they were.

She knelt next to him and had started to pour the snow in the nabe when, surely conscious of his eyes not leaving her, she turned to him, her brows arching. He noticed her other hand closing over her obi, and in spite of her unchanged expression, her attitude shifted slowly to slight defiance. She had a dagger in there, he understood.

No, she was definitely not unaware of a potential danger, which explained why his sword was out of his reach. Of course, she couldn’t know that in spite of his physical state, he could master her without difficulties. She didn’t expect that he would be awake, so certainly not that he would recover fast. She had taken a risk…but clearly, she had calculated.

She was sensible, he concluded. Fine.

“How long have I been out?” he asked curtly, pretending not to notice her gesture. He felt her relaxing, and she went on with her task.

“A couple of hours…it’s difficult to say precisely, with the storm.”

She reached for something in her kimono, from where she extracted a handkerchief. She put it in the nabe, which she installed on the fire, and then she placed some of the wrapping bandages that he always had on him on the bar, on top of the recipient, protected from the flames, to make them dry a little.

“You should lie down and cover yourself, you’re going to get cold,” she added, not looking at him. “Unfortunately, this fireplace isn’t enough to warm correctly the room.”

Her attitude grated lightly on his nerves. He wasn’t a sick kid, in need of being told what he should do or not…and this wasn’t because she had more or less saved his life, that she was authorized to do so. Thinking about it…

“I lost consciousness. How long did you carry me?”

“Dragged you would be a better way to put it.”

There was the hint of a smile in her voice. Indeed, she wasn’t too small for a woman, but he was particularly tall and she had a slender frame.

“I was about to give up when I stumbled upon the engawa. We were really a few meters away. I told you that we were near.”

She turned to him on the last sentence, her lips lifted in a softly teasing smile, her features taking, surprisingly, a rather sweet expression.

“If you didn’t plant your hand into my wound, I would have walked,” he retorted on a snort.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you were hurt,” she nevertheless added, after a guilty light had passed into her eyes.

He shrugged, more unnerved as the wound reminded him of its existence at the move. She had reported her attention on the water again.

“It took me some time to start the fire, and then to install you…you were near hypothermia.”

He was about to ask how she managed to lit it, when he noticed his cigarette pack, half empty, and the little matches box that he usually kept inside of it near his futon.

“The matches weren’t soaked?”

“No…I thought that they were, the box was humid, but it was just on time: the heads were still dry. Then I put your clothes to dry, and went to get the snow to clean your wound…”

The snow had melted and the water started to boil, filling the room with steam. He was about to assert that he could take care of the shallow cut himself, but it would have been stupid. It was on his side, at a place not easy of access for him. His nerves cringed a little more.

“…so, yes, I think that it should make a couple of hours. The sun hasn’t set yet. Can you move your arm up?”

He complied, presenting her his wounded side. Managing to get a look, he noticed that it wasn’t too bad: no need to make some suture, thankfully. Though he was ready to bet that she could also give lectures on this, he added ironically. It was very moronic to complain: she was capable and sensible, more than he could expect of a haphazardly encountered woman. Considering the situation, he should think of himself as very lucky. But something about her annoyed him. Maybe he was himself too tired to be sensible. His body was still heavy, numb, and now that he knew the situation better, his brain asked for more recuperative sleep.

He clenched his jaw as she cleaned gently the wound with the wet handkerchief, the heat biting his still relatively cold skin. When she had finished, he sat up, to allow her to wrap the bandage around his torso. He could observe her more closely, her high cheekbones were pink with being close to the fire, and the steam had made the smaller strands of hair framing her face curl, but her kimono was still engorged with cold water, he realized as her arms circled him. She concentrated on her task, yet when she was finished, she met his insistent gaze and she didn’t seem so sure of herself, all of a sudden.

That was it. She had been too confident, to distant, too…inhuman. He hadn’t been able to find a flaw. Nothing that he had said had unnerved or made her lose her patience and even tone. That was something he wasn’t used to. She had - maybe, well, surely - saved his life, treated his wound, and thought that she could act as if she was in charge. She had behaved as if he was anybody.

The fail in her behavior made her way more sympathetic to him. That would be a good occupation to prove her wrong, until the storm stopped. He would have to take her back to Aizu, and had to establish clearly who would lead during their trip.

***

Tokio had grown uncomfortable under the piercing amber look of her weird companion.

She couldn’t have let him die in the snow, but she had weighted carefully her options before deciding whether she was going to let him free of his moves. The cabin was used by hunters, and there were some ropes in the storage box near the entrance. Yet, the man was an enemy of her kidnappers, though she hadn’t understood why, and he hadn’t let her alone, proposing to get her back to town, ignoring that she had had her plan. He hadn’t been the least caring, just acting out of duty, obviously. And if he had wanted to attack her, he would have then, thus she had concluded that she would be safe.

She didn’t regret her gesture when, taking nevertheless the precaution to put his katana out of his reach, she had noticed a discreet mark on the hilt, which she was familiar with: there was a circle toped by a triangle. Adding it to his reference to Aku-Soku-Zan during the fight and the numerous old scars on his body, she had deduced that he was a Shinsengumi survivor. There were a few who had settled around Aizu after the defeat, 6 years ago. He wasn’t one of them, that she knew, but maybe he was an acquaintance; she wasn’t entrusted with everything yet, for her own sake. These men had honor, unlike the dogs serving the Ishin oppressors. Another good point for the man: if she had relied only on his wolfish, scary features, she wouldn’t have been so trustful, neither so lenient.

But he was still looking purposefully at her, and the room seemed suddenly too small for comfort. She was too close to him. It had been easy to focus on her urgent duties when she had undressed him and placed him on the futon. She had helped to look after numerous wounded soldiers, after the fall of Aizu, she was used to it, and anyway she had been too worried about whether she had all that she needed to light a fire to think about anything else.

He had been asleep then, and now that she was reassured on his state and on their chances to survive the storm she couldn’t ignore him anymore. Her education and life hadn’t prepared her to be alone with a man, less in an isolated cabin, and less with a naked one…whom she had undressed. His attitude made her aware of him as well as of the situation, and it was utterly disturbing.

“How long is the walk until Aizu? In case the storm ends before the night,” he added, casually.

“Around 5 hours. But the storm won’t end before the night.” She hesitated to reveal the truth, but anyway, he would realize sooner or latter. Better not to create some impatience. “We often have some like this, and we’d be lucky if it ends within two days.”

He raised a brow, not happy at all with the news. She had expected him to argue, but he didn’t.

“Food?” he just asked.

“There is some rice in the storage. Not a lot, but enough for three meals per and during a few days. There are also some sembei, some tea, and we won’t be short on water,” she answered, gesturing towards the shoji. “Hunters keep some reserves in the cabin, in case they end up like us. Are you hungry? I can prepare something now.”

She felt safer keeping her mind on practical matters: it had helped her not to succumb to her physical and psychological exhaustion. The war and the siege of the city had taught her to, unfortunately, she also knew that the breakdown was unavoidable. And now, with the most of the job done, and the definitely troubling presence of this man, the moment was close. She had hoped that he would still be sleeping for a while, and that she could allow herself to rest, and to expel her fears and stress, free of a foreign eye on her. Sighing inwardly, she tried to stand up, yet her legs trembled, and a long shiver echoed from her iced skin to her spine.

“Don’t you have more urgent things to do?”

His voice startled her, as she was fighting not to lose her balance. She got a look at him: he had grabbed his cigarettes, estimating the number left, and eventually, he took one. He exhaled the first cloud of smoke, adding:

“You seem to know that keeping wet clothes on does nothing good. What are you waiting for? Do you intend to burden me with your ill self, for our trip back to Aizu?”

She stayed speechless at the arrogance of the man. If someone had been burdened, it was *her*. It was so ridiculous that she burst into a nervous, quasi-hysterical laughter, shudders racking her tired body so hard that she found breathing painful. The pressure of her previous anxiety, demanding to be released, was knotting her muscles and making her lose control on her nerves, panic taking over her as she wasn’t able to calm down. She felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes, and turned away to hide them.

He was silent, the room filled only with the fire cracking, the furious waves of the storm slapping on the shoji, and the very slight whisper of his smoking. She finally steadied herself enough to speak, a twinge of exasperation tainting her calm tone.

“I thought that you were hurt and that it was giving you the priority.”

“Fine. I don’t need priority anymore. You can take care of yourself now.”

She should. She had intended to, but…Forgetting his insufferable, ungrateful attitude, she pondered on the options and she finally peeked at him over her shoulder. He had a sarcastic expression, a grin floating on his lips.

“Oh. I didn’t think that you were that prudish, my mistake. Decency didn’t seem to prevent you from acting sensibly until now,” he let out, half-mocking, half contemptuous.

“You are such a…” she bit her lip, puzzled as her outburst only seemed to please him.

He was right, and that was the most infuriating. Her kimono was weighting on her shoulders, freezing her and slowing her moves. She had intended to get rid of it back from getting the snow, but she had been rattled to find him awake, and…well, all that had been way easier when he was unconscious. She knew that she was stupid, and even now, there was nothing lecherous in his stance, but she was reluctant to find herself without clothes, in front of a man who wore none either, and who wasn’t from her family. Commoners went to public sento, but aristocrats didn’t.

But it was, indeed, the sensible thing to do. Hesitatingly, she started to undress, letting her obi, then her kimonos, fall to the ground, and suspended them on the hooks where the hunters usually placed their preys, and where she had already hanged his. Her hand grabbed the collar of her under kimono, and stilled. She couldn’t. The man might have not noticed, but there was only one blanket, no sheets, not a single piece of fabric that she could use to hide herself. She had to prepare food, and she just couldn’t walk around naked. The light cotton fabric was wet around her legs, humid on her shoulders in the front, but the back and the middle parts were still dry enough. They would have to be, anyway.

She braced herself, tilted her chin, and walked towards the storage box, giving him a quick glance. He raised a brow, but at least he shut up.

***

Laying back on the futon, Saitoh was trying to keep his eyes on the fire, while the woman was preparing the food.

So she was human. He had been utterly satisfied to see that he could make her feel vulnerable and anger her. She had almost broken down, showing at last a normal reaction. He had forgotten his sour mood, thereafter, and he had been able to see just the good side of her presence. He could have been stuck with a helpless idiot. Well, if so, they would both be transformed into ice cubs and buried under a ton of snow by this time. That was enough to be grateful with fate, and cooperative with her.

On the other hand, she was a little too human in his eyes, now. She was definitely from the noble cast…or ex-noble, he reminded himself, the moronic government being abolishing the system. Only ladies had this kind of prissy attitude, if putting aside the very young commoners. And considering that he had estimated her age around 4 or five years younger than his, which made her around 25, she couldn’t be called *very* young, though her furi-sode had informed him on her single status. She wasn’t prissy enough to get stupid, though, and his remark had been sufficient to convince her to get over it, once he had noticed her uneasiness. If she got sick and feverishly delirious to the point of not being able to even tell him what the way to Aizu was, he would be running in circles in the snow for hours. And this was something that Saitoh definitely wanted to avoid, after his recent experiment.

Yet, she had kept the white cotton yukata, used as under-kimono…and that was a problem. Saitoh’s temper didn’t incline towards having uncontrollable rushes of lust at the mere sight of a woman, unlike too many morons, and less when he was in a potentially complicated situation. He was releasing his needs when he had time, and had enough self-control to ignore them the rest of it. Duty kept him busy enough. He hadn’t even noticed that she was rather attractive before, and probably wouldn’t have, if she had undressed completely. It wasn’t his style to take advantage of this kind of situation. He was a samurai, and had his own code of honor. But when she had turned to him, her chin lifted proudly, her gaze daring him to make a comment, and clad into the thin fabric, she had irrepressibly attracted his attention. How naïve she was. The cloth was still humid, tightly designing the curves of her body, and with the light provided by the fire, almost transparent around her breast, revealing their firm roundness, calling the eye on them instead of hiding them. She had used her ornamental comb to keep her long hair from getting in front of her face, showing him the delicate curb of her long neck, and the well-designed, smooth line of her jaw, the long strands falling down on her shoulders, licking at her breasts and thighs with every move, as she was washing the rice. She was unconscious of the seduction that she exuded, and the contrast made her even more tempting to him.

And it was absolutely not the moment to have that kind of thoughts. Maybe, again, he was just too tired, and his weak brain wasn’t in control anymore. His body was hurting now, the blood circulating better as he was slowly getting warmer. He had underestimated his state. She had been right on her diagnosis.

She finally put the rice to cook and sat on the very edge of the futon, lost in the contemplation of the fire, legs gathered in front of her, her arms wrapped around them, and her chin resting on her knees. He noticed her lips trembling, and the little shudders passing trough her shoulders from time to time. He didn’t need more than a second of looking around the nearly empty place to assure what he hadn’t paid attention to until then: there was only one blanket.

Yet, he wasn’t going to propose her to have it. First of all, she didn’t ask, and had blatantly no intention to. She didn’t even dare to look at him whereas he was covered. Part of him understood that a woman was never too careful, but *his* behavior had been telltale. He had shown clearly that he was no danger for her virtue. He was beginning to feel a bit offended. Well, yes, he was aware of her, but she couldn’t know it. Hence, if she wanted to be stupidly pristine, she’d bear the consequences. The second reason was more logical. He was wounded, and needed it more than her: he had no intention to fall sick, either. He had already made the mistake to make her state a priority over his, earlier, when he had given her his coat. He highly doubted that she could carry him for the hours needed to get back to Aizu.

Aizu. If he didn’t have to take that moronic trip there, for even more idiotic reasons, he wouldn’t be in trouble to start with. At least, he had gotten rid of Mitani. That had been his only strike of luck during the last days. The thought seemed to stimulate his definitely out of service brain, at last. He had questions to ask her. Lost of questions, and he should have started already. He pondered on how to get answers without having to reveal anything, and got rapidly a strategy. Interrogations had always been his thing, he smirked inwardly. It was a mind game that he particularly liked.

“How did you know this place?”

He wondered whether she had heard his question, but finally her answer came.

“It told you that I’m from Aizu…I’m familiar with this area.”

“How lucky you were that your kidnappers took you to a place that you happen to know.”

She turned towards him, this time, and clearly, she had gotten and didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. Nevertheless, after a moment of hesitation, she gave him more information.

“My family owns a house in the valley, on the other side. During summer, we travel through the mountain, as a shortcut, on our way there and back. Otherwise, we use the road where you stumbled upon us earlier…by sheer luck.”

She was giving as well as she got; the light in her eyes now speculative. Regretfully, Saitoh took the last puff of his cigarette, the tip of fire already stinging his fingers. Tobacco was a plus in the pleasure to lead a verbal confrontation.

“They captured you there? This is why you have no coat.”

He had used the good tactics, remembering her that he had helped her: he had lent his to her, not expecting that the snow which had begun to fall would change into a blizzard. Ironically, he had because he didn’t want to have to carry her if the cold weakened her too much.

“They thought that I wouldn’t escape if I weren’t covered enough.”

The tone was slightly scornful, and her words revealing. “Wouldn’t” meant that she had had the intention to…

“You intended to escape and hide in here. How did you get free?”

He had been surprised that she hadn’t been restrained, getting out of the kago after he had begun to fight the bunch of men. This is why he had been a tad unsure of her connection with Mitani. But what he had witnessed of her capacity of reaction indicated that she might have been preparing an escape.

She frowned.

“These men were criminals. How am I supposed to know that you aren’t one of them? You can be assured that I’m not…you have eyes to see,” he added, with a knowing grin.

She seemed truly shocked at the idea that he might doubt about her, yet she was sensible or restrained enough to think about it, instead of exploding pointlessly. She eventually gave him some explanations.

“I knew that the storm was close. There are signs, for those of us who live around here. As for the ropes…” She seemed to hesitate, obviously not wanting him to know that she was armed. She was indeed no fool. “They weren’t even thick or tight. I planned to wait a little longer, for the blizzard to be strong enough…and to be closer to the cabin. I could have hidden easily in the woods, the time to lose them; I know this area better than they did. And then I planned to come here.”

“You hoped to survive?” *That* sounded foolish.

“I was supposed to be back in town this morning. My father must already be looking for me with troops…though I don’t know if he had the ransom demand in time. It will be one of the first places that he’ll search, after our house…especially now, when they find the bodies on the road. Of course, the storm will delay them.”

Saitoh hesitated between two questions. His duty won over. He had come by this way, and there was something not fitting.

“They kidnapped you yesterday? The valley isn’t that far.”

“We stayed at the same place all night.”

Was it his imagination, or was she growing aware of his questions? Maybe she thought that she had revealed too much about her plan, anyway, her answers were getting vague again. He decided that he would push the matter only later, just in case.

“I see. Your father must be an important personality…or rich.”

That was only stating the obvious, yet it was the best way to get an answer to his other question, and to divert her attention from his goal. Her gaze turned vaguely contemptuous, and she searched his face, blatantly for a greedy expression. She seemed to hesitate.

“In other words, who am I?”

“I thought that it might be more satisfying for a lady like you, if we had a proper introduction.”

Moreover, she had been the one to refuse that they talked, telling him that they had no time and should save their breath for the walk. She hadn’t been wrong, but still.

“The proper way would have been that *you* started,” she retorted, ironically, still fixing him. Finally, she turned towards the nabe again, took the bowls since the rice was cooked, and she shrugged. “You’ll probably get a reward if you ask for one. My father is Takagi Kojuuro, he’s rich and rather known around here. My name is Tokio.”

Luckily, she was still offering her back to him, and couldn’t see the complete astonishment written on his face.

He was stuck, in the middle of nowhere, by sheer coincidence, with his *wife*.

To be continued.

Author’s notes:

This story is born from a challenge between me and Firuze Khanume. We were supposed to write a one-shot (yeah, Mara, LOL) to overcome our blabbermouth and characterization-obsessed tendencies, and what could be better than the traditional blanket scenario…needless to say that we failed miserably. Though I could have titled this story “Sex and Clichés” LOL. Oh, and is it necessary to state here that if you haven’t read “Lost and Found”, Firuze’s Enishi/Megumi blanket scenario, I recommend it more than strongly (but sweetly, with sugar on top)? (^-^)

Talking about good blanket scenarios, I had a great time reading the hilarious “Cold feet” by starofhades/kallipygia, the excellent Enishi/Misao by Tiian on ff.net, and there is also a very good Tokio/Saitoh one written by MadamHydra on her site.

In “Odds and Ends”: there *is* a plot, deplorably lacking originality (though for once, I spare my readers of the “serial killer on the loose” thingy) did I mention that there is sex (lemon later), and (gasp) some *angst*, not my thing at all (neither Saitoh’s), sorry in advance. And a little minuscule twist at the end, all this isn’t absolutely foreign to another of my fics. I will use historical elements, but not all of the story will be faithful to facts (example: Tokio was 28 when Saitoh married her, here she is younger). Speaking about Tokio, although she is more traditional and less…experienced or bold than the ones I use to portray, because of my inner and instinctive despise for Stepford Wives she’ll show other sides of her temper later.

“Let’s count the clichés game”, chapter 1…Let’s see: snow storm, cabin, one blanket, character wounded, half naked/naked characters, kidnapped heroine, male already lusting, and finally…oh, the unaware fiancés meet by accident. Yeah, I had a blast (^-^).

So well, all this to say that if you like clichés, Saitoh/Tokio sex, and don’t mind the absence of literary quality or the presence of grammar/vocabulary mistakes due to my non-native English speaker status, this fic will hopefully bring you some enjoyment…if not: *bows in apology for waste of time*. It’s summer in Japan, so I shouldn’t need flames to keep myself warm, but if I get some, they will be used to light Saitoh’s cigarettes in my other fics (as you see, he won’t get to smoke much in this one, poor dear) since I refuse to share my lighter with him.

*note to people lacking sense of humor*: these author’s notes are not supposed to be taken too seriously.

Many thanks to Firuze Khanume for her support and help while I was writing this fic.

Thanks to Firuze, Marlingirl and Fen Shui Sensei for their nice reviews of \"Wolrds Apart\" :)

Next chapter: Things get a bit heated…and dear-God-in-Heaven, those people lack simplicity: why can’t they *just* tell each other the truth? (Because it would be less funny for the sadistic author, yes).

Posted in rk_bad_boys_citrus_paradise on August 21st, 2004.