Disclaimer: disclaimed. Me no own. You no sue. Comprende?

Author's Note: Angst warning. Lesbian lovin' warning. There, you can't complain now. Ha.

Chapter One

Makoto sighed, brushing her hands on the apron covering her knee-length, deep green skirt, and spring green blouse. The restaurant had just closed, and she was grateful. She loved her job, running her restaurant, but this day was always difficult, particularly when she couldn't hide from the world, but rather had to force herself to be a part of it.

Since that day, fifteen years earlier, when her hopes had been dashed, Makoto had thrown herself into her studies. From the ages of fifteen to eighteen, she'd taken every cooking class she could manage, and then had worked in every restaurant she could. At twenty three, seven years previous, she'd opened up her own restaurant, titled Mako's. An unoriginal name, perhaps, but it served its purpose. It gave the impression of a small, friendly diner-type place, which was precisely what she wanted.

Normally, she loved the time she spent in her restaurant. She didn't have a huge clientele, but it was a warm and friendly environment, mostly filled with college students she could call by name, and all of whom could order simply "the regular", and she knew precisely what they wanted. She loved the atmosphere she'd created in the place she happily dubbed her 'second home', and she considered all of her staff friends.

On this day, she would have liked nothing more than to hide in her bed, away from 'friends' who didn't entirely understand her or her colourful history, who didn't comprehend why she was still single, even though she'd had plenty of offers of courtship and more from gentlemen and ladies alike.

Fifteen years had done nothing to dull the pain of Ami's rejection, and their anniversary was just about too much to bear, even still. She hadn't spoken to anyone from her early youth since that day, ensuring that the likelihood of them finding out who she was, or where she lived or worked, was small. She pulled off the flour-dusty apron, dropping it on the counter. She should brush it off and hang it, at least, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The place was clean enough anyway, she could wipe off the counter and simply wear a different apron in the morning.

Makoto strode out of the kitchen, looking forwards to going home and relaxing in the bath, losing herself in one of her cheesy romance novels. She stopped short when she saw a head sticking above one of the partitions between tables. She couldn't make out who it was; the figure was in shadow. She coughed twice. "Excuse me, but we're closed now."

No response. Walking closer, Makoto sighed resignedly. It couldn't be one of her regular patrons; they all knew better than to stick around on this day. She'd told no one about it, but everyone could sense her dark mood, and had picked up on its annual occurrence. She could make out the top of a small pile of blue hair that decorated a bent head, pulled down into a short, low ponytail. "Miss? I'm sorry, but…" Makoto trailed off as the young woman looked up. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stifled a gasp. She stumbled backwards, nearly knocking over another table in her shock. "Ami?"

A faint, unhappy smile flickered over Ami's face before she looked down again. "Hello, Makoto-san." She lifted her face, forcing a genial smile to her lips. "It's been awhile."

"How did you find me? Do the others know? Why are you here? Why now? Why did you wait so long? What's going on?" Makoto's confusion poured out in a rush of words. She needed to ask these questions; they were flooding her throat in such a way that she was certain that if she didn't spit them out, she would drown in her confusion and the suddenly overwhelming sense of loss that engulfed her.

In some small part of her mind, she noticed differences in Ami. Her breasts were fuller, hips broader. Stomach not so flat as it was. Children? Makoto frowned. There was an air of sadness, bordering on despair around the woman. She'd grown her hair out a little, probably for the convenience of being able to tie it back. Ami had gained a couple of inches of height, but so had Makoto, so the difference between them remained more or less the same.

"You can't hide from me, Makoto." Ami's voice lighted on the young woman's ear, reassuring and terrifying at the same time. "You have to know that. I gave you the space you desired after you disappeared that day. Eventually, the pain of losing even your friendship began to dull. Or, I thought it did." She shook her head, it wasn't time for that. "I found you online. You never bothered with procedures to change your name; it wasn't difficult. As for the rest… I suppose I'll have to tell you in good time."

Makoto fell. Slowly, she dropped until her knees rested on the floor and she leaned back against a booth, staring up at the love of her life in utter shock. "How can you do this to me?"

Ami frowned. "Are you happy with your life right now? If you are, tell me so. I will leave. You will never hear from me again." She shook her head. "But if you are not… at least, go out for coffee with me?"

A tremble coloured Makoto's voice. She nodded. "I – I will. I have to work tomorrow, but I can…" she cleared her throat, trying to stifle the waver in her throat and the shaking of her limbs. "I can leave early. Around three?"

Nodding sharply, Ami stood. "I will meet you here? We…" she sighed. "We have a lot to talk about, Makoto-san. But it's best not to get into that now; I know that seeing me again must be hard for you. As hard as it was for me to come here." Turning on her heel, she walked to the exit. "I'm proud of you, Makoto-san. You've done very well for yourself with this. That may not mean much to you, but… I had to tell you."

And she left, leaving a shocked Makoto staring, dumbstruck, at the door, the sound of the little crystal bell ringing in her ears for minutes after the chime ceased.

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