P3 speculation. Possible spoilers.

Lieutenant Sanada surveyed the scene with a weary scowl.

A cup of cold tea dug into the unprotected finish of the mahogany coffee table. At an uncomfortable proximity to the tea cup was a stack of untidy papers and an uncapped pen, ready to bleed onto the fresh paper. She was asleep in the chaise by the window; reading glasses dripping from her fingertips and her favorite blanket pulled to her waist. She insisted that the pandemonium of the fiscal year was dying, and that she only needed to crack down on a few minor departments before it was over completely.

Akihiko looked down at the small cardboard box in his hand.

Still, what a way to spend a birthday.

Akihiko shrugged his coat off and, with his eyes lingering on his wife's figure, he turned away and went into the kitchen.

Friday nights were always long, and tonight had been no different. Other than the usual parade of riotous parties, petty assaults, and small drug busts, Akihiko's shift had been relatively uneventful. He looked down at his hand as he traced the long line of a laceration between his knuckles. Relatively. One of his deputies had let his guard down on a half-cuffed drug dealer, giving the perpetrator enough time to snatch his confiscated knife and swing it around in blind panic.

Akihiko set the small parcel on the table before opening the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water from the back.

He had been quick enough to pull the officer away and out of immediate danger, but diverting the officer with his right hand meant Akihiko had to use his sluggish left hook in order to take down the dealer. The tingling lack of inhibitions had set his soul alight, and the moment the blade caught his skin, Akihiko felt the nostalgic high of exhilaration race through him. Once Akihiko had pinned the dealer to the ground, the feeling was killed with the clicking of the handcuffs and his deputy's surreal debriefing. Akihiko had left the scene exhausted.

He turned around and leaned against the refrigerator, looking at the box as he sipped leisurely from the bottle.

His shift had ended with a radio request to assist with a handful of very underage and very inebriated school-girls (who had not only lost themselves in the music of a nightclub, but had also lost the contents of their stomachs all over their sequined tops). As he half-dragged the slurring girls to the squad car, Akihiko couldn't help but wonder just how far he had come from the days of shadows and sore muscles.

Akihiko lifted the lid of the box slightly and glanced over the piece of cake he'd picked up from her favorite pastry shop. Trying to remember her favorite kind had taken a large part of his lunch break, and Akihiko hadn't received a lot of help from the very kind and very French attendant behind the counter. Only after a series of frustrated head scratches and odd sounding grunts had he managed to emerge from the shop victorious.

He turned to doorway upon hearing a series of gentle creaks.

"When did you get home?" Mitsuru appeared, the silk on her robe shimmering in the dull light of a distant streetlamp.

"A few minutes ago," he said as put the water bottle to his mouth.

Akihiko quickly swallowed the remainder of the water, and placed the empty water bottle to the counter, his eyes following her as she slowly progressed into the kitchen and cocked her head at the box on the table.

"Happy Birthday."

Through the darkness, she rewarded him with a sleepy smile.

"Thank you."

"Go back to sleep. It's still early."

"I'd much rather have dessert first," Mitsuru's smile grew mischievous even as she touched her eyes.

Akihiko gave a weary laugh as he leaned across the table.

"Have I gotten that predictable?"

Mitsuru chuckled as she looked to the cake box.

"I happen to like having a husband who knows how to make me happy, Lieutenant."

He gave her a shrug and fished a fork out of a nearby drawer. When he offered it to Mitsuru, she paused before she reached past the fork and gently ran her fingers over the newly won cut on Akihiko's hand.

"Exciting night?"

Mitsuru looked up at him evenly. Akihiko gave her a small humorless smile.

"Just a little hectic."

"I see."

She turned away before Akihiko could decipher the expression in her eyes. Akihiko watched as Mitsuru turned on the light above the stove before she moved to the other side of the kitchen and quietly retrieved a roll of bandages and a bottle of disinfectant from a drawer. He raised his eyebrow at her as she pulled two chairs out from underneath the counter and motioned for him to sit. He obeyed without protest.

Akihiko frowned softly while Mitsuru began to gently dab the thick gel to his skin.

"I know what you're thinking," he said at last.

Mitsuru appraised him with a brief smirk before she proceeded to roll the bandage over his hand.

"Oh?"

Mitsuru's eyes remained low as she secured the ends of the bandage.

"I've been wondering the same thing myself, to be honest," Akihiko added softly, his voice grave.

She sighed in response.

"Tell me then: What am I thinking?" Mitsuru leaned forward in her seat, a slight smile on her lips.

Akihiko caught a stray lock of red hair in his fingers and tucked it behind Mitsuru's ear. His hand lingered on her cheek.

"You're wondering if I've grown up at all."

The smile slid instantly from her lips.

"Akihiko-"

"No, it's okay. . ." Akihiko removed his hand from her face and rubbed his eyes. "It's funny. Ten years ago I would ask myself 'what do I want to accomplish by the end of the night?' and I'd always answer 'I want to come home this much faster, that much stronger.'"

Mitsuru frowned as she returned Akihiko's intent gaze, his hand still retained in hers.

"And now?"

He smiled wearily, leaning forward.

"I ask myself the same question and I just think 'I want to make someone that much safer.'"

Mitsuru took a moment to admire Akihiko's tired and satisfied expression before she leaned in and pressed soft kiss to his cheek. Akihiko was content to follow her as she silently collected the remainder of the items on the table and rose from her seat.

As she moved to the drawer, Mitsuru looked at him quickly with a small smile.

"So. . . did you have a bad night, Lieutenant?" she asked innocently, opening the drawer and depositing the materials.

Akihiko thought back on the pandemonium of the evening with a contemplative expression which ebbed slightly when he recalled coming home just minutes ago to a locked door and a sleeping spouse.

He looked up to see Mitsuru, biting her lip in an eager smile as she peeked into the box again. Their eyes met, and Mitsuru gave an embarrassed laugh at the blush on her cheeks. Akhiko's expressionless stare lingered for a moment before he uncrossed his legs and went to her.

"No," he answered gruffly, pulling Mitsuru to his chest and resting his head atop the crown of red curls. She returned his embrace instantly.

"It was a great night."