AN: Should be studying... and yet you're here reading this, so I suppose you can guess what I've been doing instead. LOL But it isn't even noon on a Sunday. No need to rush into my studies, no? Haha.

Anyway, thank you all soooo much for the amazing reviews and for alerting and favoriting. To know that people are reading makes me so happy because no writer (fanfiction or otherwise) wants to feel like they're writing to an audience that only includes herself. :) So, without further ado, onto the fic.

Summary: Reunion. Part One of the sequel to Bedtime. After years apart, Ayano has grown up and matured, slowly extracting Kazuma from her life. But she finds that the only thing she's done is prolong the inevitable heartbreak.


Part One: Reunion

At twenty-four years old, Kannagi Ayano was every bit the woman she was destined to be.

While still hot-headed and easily excitable, she'd learned over the years that smiling politely and flirting discretely got her more than her screeching demands ever did, something she'd wished she'd known when she was a kid. Probably would have saved her a large amount of embarrassment, but the point was moot now. Leaving home after high school, her life in university had gifted her with many lessons that had expanded her mind's horizons and taught her the social graces that she hadn't been able to fathom as teenager.

Perhaps that was why she was here now, wandering a small city in China with nothing but her small duffel for company. Though it had been a struggle to get there, she was glad that she'd proposed the idea to her father the summer of her graduation, her plans mapped out in excruciating detail and all done by her own hands.

When Ayano had first proposed her intentions to take a trip around Asia, the clan leader had refused without hesitation, crossing his arms over his chest in a stalwart fashion and demanding to know why she wanted to leave so soon after returning home. However, that last bit was her own secret so she offered nothing to quench his curiosity. Instead, she'd dangled a piece of bait before him, a compromise she had long debated over, and she knew almost immediately that she had him. While not known for her subtlety, Ayano was proud to say that she'd gotten increasingly better at using her newly developed poker face as a means to whatever end she had in mind.

Under the guise that she was travelling for fun, the pink-haired fire user had other details in mind when she booked her flights, meticulously dating them and figuring out the routes that would have her itinerary spanning a year and a half. Because while she would certainly use the time for all the shopping and sightseeing she could do, Ayano had bigger plans, ones that she'd stewed over long before she even came up with the idea of travelling on her own.

That was the reason why she never told her father about her intentions to build houses in impoverished communities, raise money for schools and churches, and feed those that had much less than her. After years of selfishly going at her own pace and expecting people to keep up with her demands, the heir to the Kisaragi family wanted to give something back to the world that she'd never been allowed to see. Growing up in privilege had left her overprotected, constantly shadowed by guards and filled with ideals of equality among all. So one could imagine her surprise when she realized that the lies were being fed to her and she'd accepted them without thought or query, content in her perfectly shaped bubble.

But now that barrier was gone, destroyed by her own free will, and now she could freely see the sadness that so many people suffered through and yet the world chose to ignore. So, just for a little while, Ayano wanted to feel as if she was giving something to the communities that had done nothing wrong but had little to show for their hard work. And with each experience, her heart hardened as her empathy grew, finding a sense of purpose through their pain and unending thanks.

If only she felt like what little she'd done was enough, but there was only so much one pair of hands could do, especially without her family's backing. And even though it was tempting to ask for help for such a worthy cause, this was her redemption, not her father's or her family's. What she'd accomplished had been done with a pure heart and hope that those who were helped by her might remember her fondly, even if only for a short time.

Now, more than a year later and with a number of projects completed, Ayano's trip was coming to an end. Just recently was the first time she'd had a birthday without the parties and gifts and decadent food, only a small dinner and a few emails that she'd found time to check right before she went to bed. She would've missed all the extravagance, but something about the crisp morning air and soothing calm of the atmosphere had her more introspective than usual that day, and she was grateful for the change of pace. Instead, she had spent her birthday on a hill not too far from the inn she was staying at, the grass beneath her a reminder of the rural area she was staying in. And, just as every year before, she wished for the same thing she always did, as fruitless as it was, as she made the gaudy desire on a puff of a dandelion.

All Ayano wanted was someone who would love her.

Just the thought made her want to laugh, a soft, almost maniacal sound that was more anger than humor. Because after years and years of waiting, Ayano was learning that unrequited love was never comfortable, but at the very least it was a routine she was used to. Because even miles away from Japan, she could still see Kazuma's face in her mind and it still burned her insides like the flames that had never scalded her skin.

It had been a few years since their partnership had been broken, communication lines cut while she was in the middle of college, and all of it had been her doing. She didn't explain to him that the leash that had held him to her was starting to feel heavy in her hand, the contract becoming more of an excuse than a duty. So when she severed it, Ayano knew that he'd follow his own path instead of constantly walking hers, just as he'd done before. To say it hurt that he had started chasing down the next potential client as soon as she freed him would be like saying she didn't mean to destroy a demon with her fire.

But the partnership was meant to end and it was always going to be on her terms, no one else's. At the very least, she reasoned, they had parted amicably, with him patting her head and telling her to remember to keep her temper in check. The blast of fire she had sent him probably didn't plead her case, but she wanted to keep the charade going, didn't want him to know he was breaking her heart for the umpteenth time, as he turned his back on her for good, waving a nonchalant hand as he walked away.

And from that moment on, Ayano had promised herself no more tears, not for a man who had given away little of himself and none of his love. Three years later and she was still telling herself the same words, she thought bitterly, as her face cringed at the notion that she might never truly be over him, like a terminal illness that rested until the next moment of weakness. Batting away the depressing idea, she scoured the vicinity and looked back down at her map, determined to push that nonsense away for at least one more day, even though she knew it was only going to be the same uphill battle tomorrow.

As she looked around, the young woman took in the white, worn-down buildings, noticing how they'd colored over the years but were sturdy and well maintained. She only had two days before she'd be rushing off to the final country on her list and it was there where she would spend her last month and a half. And while the sadness of ending her adventure sat heavy in her stomach, the idea of coming home filled her with great relief and a new sense of gratitude for having a place to even come back to.

Spotting a small restaurant off to the left, the smile that quirked at Ayano's lips fitted itself on her face, as she jogged over to it. She'd asked the receptionist at the small motel she was staying at where the best place to grab food was and the worker had pointed at a small neighborhood restaurant on the map she was carrying. Rarely did Ayano spend her time in the major cities and so she'd learned the magic that was suburban and rural life, things she hadn't truly experienced before. Somehow she'd managed to decipher the roads to take in spite of her inability to fully understand the Chinese language, the feeling of accomplishment growing as she greeted a server and was led to a single table.

As she looked through the menu, there was great relief in the fact that there were pictures she could point at and order from. Although her language skills weren't dismal, Ayano could only make a fool of herself to a certain extent before she just gave up with a mortified blush. As she pointed at a delicious-looking bowl of noodles, the waitress rattled off a few more words that she didn't recognize before walking away, the pot of tea left at her disposal.

Pouring a cup, Ayano couldn't help but people-watch, glancing over the customers who she was sure were regulars. A small family sat off to the side, with the two little boys playing around in their seats and having their mother fuming over their restlessness. The sight had her lips twitching in a grin, as she took in a few nondescript people who looked to be hurrying through their meals so they could rush out the door, probably back to their jobs. Off to the side, there was also a large group of men who seemed to be sharing stories over food while guffawing over a particularly juicy tale. There was some envy there, her expression turning forlorn at the idea of having someone else to talk to. It'd been a long while since she'd last spoken to someone who could fully understand her and to say that it was upsetting would be an understatement.

But she hadn't meant for that particular wish to come true.

When the door opened a moment later, even with the meal steaming in front of her and making her mouth water, she could feel her spine stiffen with strange awareness. And although she loathed meeting his gaze, Ayano knew she would. It seemed that time and distance did nothing to wither her attraction to this man.

Tilting her head up, her features were schooled into a perfect mask, as brown and hazel mixed after what felt like an eternity apart. It grated on her nerves how well he looked, as if no time had passed since they first met nearly ten years ago. Damn him for being so well put-together when she felt as if she'd fall apart beneath that stubborn expression he wore.

To her surprise, Kazuma didn't make his way over and instead was called over to the table of rambunctious men she'd been eyeing earlier. Settling into a seat beside one of them, she could see them offering the Contractor alcoholic drinks to go with the array of foodstuffs and patting him on the back familiarly, like old friends who hadn't seen each other in years. And not for the first time, Ayano was reminded that he had a life long before they'd met, with a woman he had never stopped loving.

The thought quickly stole her appetite, the formerly tempting dish now a nuisance in her path to escape. But she'd never offend the cook and truly she couldn't not eat anything. At the very least it would provide the nourishment she'd need to get away and survive her last full day in town. Digging in, the Enjutsushi went through her meal as quickly as she could stomach it before standing up and moving to the counter to pay. She had no expectations that he would come to her. No, that wasn't quite right. It was more like she couldn't afford to have them anymore, not like before when she showed every emotion thoughtlessly, parading around in her naivety.

Offering one last bit of thanks, Ayano was out of there like a bat out of hell, walking much too swiftly to be comfortable after a large meal. If he wanted to track her, he could but she wouldn't make it easy for him, or so she thought. Stumbling a bit on her way up the road, she nearly crashed to the ground in her haste. Sighing to catch her breath, her fingers trembled with the exertion and she cursed herself for getting in over her head. She ran away and she hated herself for it because she now knew how far she'd gotten when it came to Kazuma.

Absolutely nowhere.

The sound of sedate steps trailed behind her, stopping just a few feet short as she righted herself as best she could. "Still as clumsy as ever, ne, Ayano?"

The irony didn't escape her, as she tried to piece back her composure, strengthen her backbone and meet his sarcastic glare. It was amazing how fate could string her along for years, make her feel safe and sure and free of him, but then send the world crashing down around her. Because even the sound of his voice, that mellow depth that said both the harshest words and sweetest praises, was enough to put her on edge, as she slowly spun to meet him. It hurt that he was even more beautiful than she remembered, a wave of sadness coursing through her and eventually settling into her bones.

"Kazuma." It was odd, hearing his name on her lips, almost a sad song she'd nearly forgotten. Like riding a bike, her mouth melded to the syllables, as if she'd spoken them only a day before. And perhaps she had, as she remembered a few cumbersome dreams within the last few months, of him and her and impossibilities. How was it that a moment in his presence brought back the past, as if she'd never let him go and he'd never walked away?

"It's funny seeing you here. Have you followed me all the way back to China, then?" As he shrugged nonchalantly, a part of her wondered if that was truly what he thought of her, a little girl pining for a bit of his attention and that withheld affection. Oh, she had no doubt he cared, even if only just a little, but it was the kind of love he'd show Ren, perhaps even a close friend and comrade.

But he didn't love her, and that was all she needed to know.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied easily, folding her arms over her chest. She had no idea if he'd kept in touch with her family or if he'd checked on her while she was away. With no one knowing why she'd really left, of course he'd find her choosing of this small town odd. Nothing to do but listen to old tales of better times and good food made by families' hands, but that was what she wanted, to be surrounded by intimacy, even if it wasn't meant for her.

He raised a brow, taking in her lack of temper and giving her his first full perusal, as if seeing her for the first time. Inside, Ayano did her best to remain steady under his gaze until finally he spoke. "You cut your hair."

"What?" she replied, not expecting the statement. But as her hand went up, she felt nothing at her shoulders, travelling until it hit her jaw line and coming in contact with the ends of her pink-stained strands. With a sheepish smile, she continued lamely. "Oh yeah, I did."

It was only two weeks ago that she'd chopped it off, wanting a change of pace after finding that working in the hot sun during summer was increasingly worse with thick hair even if it was tied up. After a while, she'd forgotten she'd even done it, used to the change and only really noticing it when she looked in the mirror. But the way Kazuma was staring at her, a mix between bemusement and intrigue, she found that it was a good choice. He was the type of man to remember only what he chose to and picked out only what caught his attention. In any case, she'd been neither of those things to him.

"It looks good," he dubbed, watching her with plain eyes, as forward as he'd always been. Forward but never open, a journal with a lock she'd never quite managed to pick.

"Thank you." And even worse was the fact that years later and a lifetime of experiences between them, they were reduced to small talk, a few niceties with no substance. For she knew he'd never ask her of her real reasons for being here and he knew she'd never get any answers to her questions; somehow, it was as if they'd never grown up at all.

"I should get going," Ayano said a moment later, something of a bitter laugh escaping her lips. A wounded sound, one that rung of old nights and broken expectations, of a hope that died a tragic death. She hated that one short, careless meeting was more than enough to have her stumbling back down the path she thought she'd finished years ago. Without waiting for his answer, she did the right thing, the cowardly thing, the only thing suitable in that moment.

She walked away, so determinedly away. And he watched her go, just like he always did.


AN: I love angst, can you tell? Haha. I think I'll break this sequel into three parts so look forward to two more. I kind of like the disjointed feeling so I'll try and do it more, even though I'm not that great at it yet. My writing has a long way to go, but I hope you guys enjoyed it regardless. :) Also, reviews are loved beyond belief~ Haha. But every writer says that, no?

Next Chapter: Rewind. Part Two of the Sequel to Bedtime. Looking back on his life, Kazuma finds that he's lived many small, interconnected realities, but he clings to one of those times so much stronger than the rest.

Thanks so much for reading! Until next time~