For Her Smile

By: sophomoric genius

Disclaimer: I do not own RK, Belldandy, Priss Asagiri and her band, Sekiria. All of them are copyright their respective creators. Any similarities with other fics are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.

Author's Note: I've always loved the Aoshi/Misao/Soujirou triangle and although there are already tons of fics with this kind of pairing, I decided to add another one. ^_^ This fic is inspired by all the A/M, S/M and A/M/S fics that I've had the privilege to read. I hope this does not have too many similarities to those fics, and if there is and you don't like it, kindly say so in your review. *_* This is an Alternate Universe, set in our time (meaning NOW). Hope you like it! Enjoy reading and please review!! XD

A/N P.S.: In this AU, Kamatari is a completely genuine GIRL. o.O; Read on and find out. :)

Chapter Four

"How did you get Sekiria to play tonight?" a tall, beautiful girl asked Soujirou on the bar. "I thought that band only plays exclusively for Hot Legs."

The boy smiled and handed the girl her drinks. "Okina-san was the one who arranged it. I'm not sure how he did that either."

"That Priss Asagiri sure rocks!" declared another girl. She was wearing a black, leather strapless top with matching leather pants with a red jacket hooked on her forefinger, dangling from her shoulder. It was the exact same outfit the lead singer of Sekiria uses in her performance.

"I know!" another girl gushed in. "Her voice…it's soo cool…"

Soujirou moved away from the group of college girls and went to get himself a glass of water. He noticed Misao sitting on the other side of the bar, her face cradled in her hand, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Nirvana's been pretty busy today, ne?" Soujirou commented in a cheerful voice.

Misao blinked at him blankly before giving a weak smile.

"First the lunch crisis, now this," he continued, nodding his head towards the jam-packed club.

Nirvana always had a full house during the evenings but they never had that many people inside in just one night. It was literally brimming. Most of their tables were stocked back in the kitchen to give them more room for people. Majority was left standing since they did not have that many chairs but these clubbers did not seem to mind. It was like a concert. They had lighters and UV lamps and some even had posters with them. And it was still thirty minutes before the band is scheduled to play.

"Do you guys have any idea who this Sekiria group is?" Kaoru asked as she placed a small round tray on top of the counter. "Two martinis and a manhattan please, Soujirou-chan." The older girl turned to Misao. "Almost all of them's in here only because of this Priss-guy. Who is he anyway?"

"Obviously, you still don't know anything about the cool and the famous. How could you, you don't even have a life," Megumi said smugly handing Soujirou her tray. "An oxygen cocktail and another martini."

"Like YOU do," Kaoru shot back. "If you're not working here, your nose is permanently stuck on those medical books of yours. What would YOU know about 'the cool and the famous'?"

Megumi threw her long mane of thick ebony hair back. "I, for one, know for a fact that Priss Asagiri, the lead vocalist of Sekiria is a GIRL and not a guy." She retrieved her tray and started walking away, her nose stuck up in the air.

"Why you little…" Kaoru fumed, her eyebrows twitching violently. "…fox!" she finished, angrily snatching her tray back. "She thinks she knows it all, does she? Well, she doesn't! How did she know about this Priss-person anyway?! And I DO have a life!" She stomped away still muttering.

Soujirou just smiled quietly to himself. Sometimes, it was impossible to believe that those two have been sharing an apartment for five years now. His brown eyes went back to the unusually quiet girl still sitting in front of him.

"You were the one who suggested to Okina-san to get Sekiria to play here, ne, Misao-chan?" he tried once again to brighten her up.

The girl gave him another blank look before forcing a smile. "Yeah. I knew it'd be good publicity. Besides, who wouldn't want the hottest new band in their club?"

Soujirou was about to reply when the crowd suddenly cheered loudly. The band was coming on stage.

"Hey! Bartender!"

He saw a young man wave him over. Soujirou placed his hand lightly over Misao's. "Cheer up, Misao-chan. Everything's gonna be fine." He smiled amiably and went back to his job.

Misao looked after him, a small, genuine smile on her lips. Priss's rich, deep voice filled the entire pub as she started on their first song. Soujirou was right. She ought to cheer up. It was so unlike her to sit in a corner and brood moodily when the rest of the world was singing and dancing to the music of the most popular rock band in Tokyo. Truth was, she had been pestering Okina to book the group the first time she had heard them. She had been waiting for this day for ages and now that it was finally here, what was she doing? Sulking.

Her eyes went back to the young bartender. Okina was originally Soujirou's partner in the bar. But since the old man was blissfully resting in a hospital room, eyeing his beautiful nurses with delight, Misao was supposed to take his place. Not that Soujirou needed help. In fact, the boy seemed to be so at ease with what he was doing. There were demands for all sorts of drinks every fraction of a second, but his sharp ears and skillful hands manage to grant all their wishes with a bartender's grace and a whole-hearted smile.

Misao smiled softly inspite of herself. She couldn't even imagine where she would be without Soujirou. From that day on the rooftop, they have been inseparable. There were times that Misao would get so frustrated with Soujirou's unseemingly never-angry-always-happy disposition in life. She could never understand how he could still bear to smile even after all that has happened to him. He told her once that his smiles could never erase the past but at least it could make the present livable. She had pulled her hair and screamed 'What the hell does that mean?!' then, but somehow, she understood. She never scolded him again for smiling at problems. The gesture would still creep her out sometimes, but when she herself has got some problems of her own, it was those very smiles that would give her most comfort.

Determination filled her aquamarine eyes. Soujirou was right. Everything will turn out okay. Misao stood from her seat and slid over to the bar. She put on her apron with a firm nod. It was not like Aoshi dumped her or anything. He's just…thinking about it. She DID drop the bomb on him so suddenly. He's probably still trying to sort out his feelings for her. Or something. Right.

"Hey miss! Once you finish your daydreaming, can you give me my beer?"

The man's gruff voice ended her musings and snapped her back to reality. "One beer coming right up!" she replied cheerfully, heading to the fridge.

"I'd like a Holland, please."

"A couple of whiskeys. Blended."

Misao grabbed a tall-necked bottle of beer and handed it to the customer. "Holland and whiskey." She turned to the numerous bottles of alcoholic beverages before her. "Ettou…a Holland's a…"

"Gin," Soujirou supplied, handing her the green bottle.

"Right," the girl took the container with a grateful smile. She poured the colorless liquid into the small glass. Misao was about to reach for the straight and light whiskeys when a beer bottle almost touched her nose.

"Do I look like a light to you?!" the enraged man demanded, thrusting the bottle further down her face. "I said beer. Not light! Do I look like a light?!"

At this point, the crowd shrieked with all their lungs as Priss took the microphone from its stand and started walking on the stage, singing their second song for the night. Misao swatted the large arm away with an irritated grimace.

"You don't have to shove it up my face, you know!" she screamed over the noise. She snatched the bottle from his hand and stomped back to the fridge. Grabbing the right beer this time, she marched back to the nose-and-eyebrow-pierced, glaring man. She pushed the bottle just as forcefully in his face. "There you go, sir."

The older man jerked his head back as he tried to avoid his precious nose from being flattened by Misao's fist. His foot slipped from its perch on the stool and his large, muscular body followed suit. Grabbing on to the counter, he managed to steady himself before boring his dark brown eyes into Misao's smug blue-green ones.

"You brat!" he spat out, bringing his face inches from the girl's. "You'll pay for that!"

"Ooh, I'm shaking in fear," Misao glared back.

"Why you…"

"Anou, what about my order?" a girl looked from one red face to the other uncertainly.

Two glasses were pushed towards her. "Hai, two blended whiskeys." Soujirou gave her a smile before moving over to his partner. "Sumimasen, Misao-chan, I think Himura-san's done washing the other glasses and we really need them now," he gently took hold of the girl's shoulders and prodded her towards the swinging doors heading to the kitchen. "Onegai, ne, Misao-chan?"

"Not yet, Sou-chan," the stubborn girl did not budge. "I'll show this…scumbag just who he's dealing with! Nobody messes with Makima--Sou-chan!"

Misao's little speech was cut short when the boy started pushing her more firmly towards the kitchen. "We really need those glasses, Misao-chan. Don't worry, I'll handle him." He gave her one final light shove into the kitchen doors.

The smiling boy went back to the irate customer taking a swig off his beer. "I'm sorry about that, sir. Why don't you move over by the lounge area to relax a little? I've seen the way that lady had been looking at you all night. I think maybe you should enjoy the night, ne?"

"Really?" the man looked at the direction Soujirou had nodded. A girl with bright purple hair and a pierced lower lip raised her bottle. "Heh. You're right." The man gave him a sidelong glance before walking away. "You're not so bad, but they better fire your partner if you still want people to actually come to your club."

Soujirou's smile just widened. "Thanks for the advice." He watched the man saunter over the couch. Then his chocolate brown eyes went to the main door of their bar. He could still make out Hiko Seijouro's muscular form near the door, regulating the flow of people going in and out the pub. Even with this many people inside, Soujirou was sure there was still a long line waiting outside. It was definitely Nirvana's busiest night. His eyes went past a familiar face before the name flashed in his brain. He looked back to see a tall, dark-haired man wearing an unmistakable white trenchcoat with a yellow collar.

"Shinomori-san," he greeted cordially once the man was within earshot. "It's been a long time since you last visited. What can I get you?"

"Nothing," the blue-eyed man replied in his flat tone. "I'm not staying. Where's Misao?"

"She just got something from the back. She'll be out soon. Are you sure you don't want something to drink?"

Aoshi opened his mouth to decline again when Misao's irritated voice rang out first.

"Here're your freaking glasses, Sou-chan. Now where's that basta--" she almost dropped a trayful of shot glasses at the sight of her Okashira. "Aoshi-sama." A warm rush of blood filled her cheeks, ears and neck. She had frozen instantly, her legs refusing to move, her eyes refusing to leave his deep blue ones. It was a mystery how she had managed not to drop the tray when she could barely feel her arms attached to her shoulders. Her heart was beating so fiercely, it felt like it was about to jump out of her chest.

Her mind was racing as well. She did not even notice Soujirou take the tray from her and move away so the two of them could talk.

Why was he there? To tease her? No, Aoshi was not like that. He probably did not even know what the word meant. Maybe he had given the incident earlier that morning enough thought. Maybe he has sorted out his feelings for her. Maybe he was here to tell her…

"You left your assignment."

Aoshi's cool, fluid voice brought her out of her musings. "Huh?"

"The boy's file." He slid the folder on the table. "I also forgot to tell you earlier that I have scheduled for you to meet him here tomorrow. You're going to need this for that."

"Oh." Disappointment was so transparent in her voice and face. She looked down at the long, yellow folder. She tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat but couldn't. It was so dry.

"That's all."

At those two words, Misao's eyes darted up to his face. Clearly reflected in them were a mixture of emotions, so just like that morning. Longing. Affection. Hurt. Despair. Love. She was looking at him, pleading him to say something--anything--about what happened earlier. He could not stand looking at those twin pools of hope with the color of the ocean. He closed his lids and turned around, doing his best to shut out her beautiful face, her imploring eyes. But he couldn't.

He started walking away.

"Aoshi-sama…" she murmured in a deflated voice. Her shoulders slumped and her knees grew weak. She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back into the glands and not onto her hot cheeks. She stared at Aoshi's back, yearning to slide under the counter and run after him. She caught Soujirou's sympathetic gaze. The boy gave an encouraging nod. Her eyes went back to the Oniwabanshuu leader, who was by now at the door.

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao rushed out of the bar and towards the door. Her shouts were swallowed by the noisy crowd but she kept on nonetheless. After much pushing and shoving, she was finally out the door. People were swarming all over, even outside their club. She turned her head this way and that, craning her neck just for the sight of that beloved yellow-collared white trench coat.

"He went to your right."

Misao could not see Hiko but she knew his voice. With a hurried 'Thanks!' she dashed to her right, elbowing her way. When the crowd thinned at last, she saw him.

"Aoshi-sama!" she cried. Using the last drop of adrenaline in her system, she scrambled towards him.

The young man stopped and turned around, a slight look of surprise in his face.

Once beside him, she caught her breath, stalling at the same time. Now that she had gotten his attention, she had no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, she pulled out a cheery smile out of nowhere. It shocked them both.

"Thanks for bringing my assignment, Aoshi-sama," she told him, her voice remarkably light. "I really appreciate it."

The young man nodded. "Yeah."

"And also," she paused, her eyes rolling to one side before focusing back on his face. "I won't be able to come to the office for several days. It's just that Jiya's in the hospital and Belldandy's away and Shiro got burned today…they need me here…I hope it's alright with you. I'll still work on the boy's case and I'll have it in as soon as I can," she added hastily. She looked up to him expectantly. "Please?"

He watched her curiously, his unflickering blue eyes picking up something amiss with the girl. Just minutes earlier, she had been all ready to cry her heart out. Now, she was looking at him like nothing happened. But it was not his place to probe. Still, her sudden change of attitude stabbed him deeper than her reaction earlier. She was trying to act normal around him, when he knows that deep inside, she was hurting. Hurting because of him.

"Fine. Just don't forget your duties to the Oniwabanshuu." He gave her one last look before going on his way.

"Hai." She nodded with a grin. "Thanks, Aoshi-sama. Take care!" She turned swiftly around and ran back to Nirvana. Instead of heading to the main entrance, she went towards the back door. Leaning her burning, sweating forehead onto the cool, metal door, she sank on her knees and cried.

***

It was way past ten in the evening when Honjo Kamatari and her stepbrother glided their way past the long line of people waiting to be let in the club. Even from the outside, Priss Asagiri's deep, velvety voice could be heard singing in perfect accord to the music of the rock band. Several college students and yuppies, accepting the fact that they would never be let in to even catch a glimpse of the popular band, consoled themselves by staging their own party just outside the pub, dancing and singing along with the music as if they were inside the club. 'Losers,' she thought, grinning smugly as she followed behind her stepbrother who was elbowing his way towards the door.

"Sorry, club's full," a deep male voice informed them. A tall, very muscular man guarded the door. His arms are folded in his chest in a manner that clearly stated: 'Don't even think about it.'

This was Kamatari's cue. She slipped between her stepbrother and the guard, resting a long, white hand on the older man's firm arms. "Oh, come on," she purred, using her soft sexy voice that could make any man's heart race. "What's a couple more sweaty bodies in there?"

Apparently, he was not to be swayed by voice alone. "It's two too much. You could look for another club or join them if you want to," he nodded to the pathetic crowd outside.

"My, you're a tough one…" she continued, her hand traveling up his arms, onto his shoulders and neck. Then, out of his ears, just like a very old magician's trick, she pulled out several paper bills. By the hundreds. "Fine then. How about I help you, and you help me in return? I'm sure you've heard of the Honjos?" she lowered her voice, making it astonishingly sexier.

"What if I have?" Hiko narrowed his eyes as the girl's fingers waved the cash enticingly before his face.

"Well, let's just say that I'm a Honjo and he's a Sagara. And here's our proof," she looked at him from under her lashes as she trailed the bills lightly down his chest. "With the two of us, we could do miracles for this cute little joint of yours. What do you say?" She tucked the money sharply on the waist of his black leather pants.

Hiko Seijouro eyed scrupulously the girl in front of him. She was tall and slim, with ebony black hair that turned upwards upon reaching her shoulders. He could not make out the color of her eyes, only that it was dark. Probably dark blue. Hiko had seen the late tycoon Honjo Makoto a couple of times on TV and he has got to admit, the girl does hold a resemblance. His eyes went to the impatient young man beside her. She had mentioned the name Sagara. The Sagaras have been in politics for ages. If what she claimed is true, Kaoru and even the old man Okina would definitely kill just to have them in Nirvana. Not only his salary, but his very employment was on the line.

"Fine. Get in before I change my mind." He stepped back, sighing in resignation.

The girl gave a small, delighted shriek. Her arms flew behind the bewildered man's neck, her lips planting a light, feathery kiss right on top of Hiko's nose. "I knew you weren't so bad!" She released the guard, flashing her stepbrother a V sign. "Come on, Sano. Let's par-tay! Woohoo!" She shook her head and hips to the music as she stepped inside the bar.

The boy gave the dumbfounded Hiko a mischievous grin. "She's good, ain't she?" he chuckled lightly as he followed Kamatari inside.

Once in, the two automatically went their own ways. Kamatari danced her way towards the platform where the band was playing, while Sanosuke headed straight to the bar.

"Tequila," he told the young bartender. He looked casually around while waiting for his order, searching the crowd for girls. Almost immediately, he noticed a pretty, short-haired girl checking him out. He closed his eyes and shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. This game with girls has always been an easy one for him, especially with his soft dark brown hair, deep brown eyes and a perfect set of pectoral muscles, not to mention his toothpaste-ad smile. Add in his family name and the girls are practically swooning over him.

'This'll be a piece of cake,' he thought to himself. When his drink was ready, he wolfed it down with three large gulps. He set down the shot glass before whipping around, graceful as a model. The movement was purely for showing off and impressing the girl, but unfortunately, it did not reap the desired effect. Instead of facing his prey and keeping eye contact with her as he had intended, his vision was blocked by midnight black hair and a pair of glaring hazel brown eyes.

He had bumped on one of the club's waitresses, sending her tray to litter the floor with glass shreds.

"There is a reason those eyes are placed on your face," the girl knelt down to gather the larger pieces of glass on her tray. She shot him a look that could stop fire. "Why don't you try to actually USE them sometime?"

A spark of irritation passed in those eyes, but he tried to control himself. "You weren't exactly looking at where you were headed either."

Megumi stood up and stared at him evenly. "I was clearing the table. I wasn't even walking."

"Are you suggesting this was all my fault?" the boy gritted his teeth.

"It was most certainly not mine."

"You obviously have no idea who I am. For your information, I am Sagara Sanosuke. I'm sure you've heard of my father."

"Just because you claim to be the son of a senator doesn't mean you are excused from having eyesight. And if you're really a Sagara, then you wouldn't have any problem paying for the damage you've caused, am I right?"

Sano's eye twitched furiously. He has never met a girl who continued to speak impudently at him after knowing who he is. The girl was trying the patience he had so little to start with. "I'll pay for it, and more," he slammed several hundreds on the counter.

"Wow, I never thought you'd actually pay to get a girl," a female voice commented. "What, your charms did not work? Now that's a first, stepbrother."

"Shut up, Kamatari," Sano growled menacingly. He gave Megumi one last scowl before dissolving in the crowd.

"Ignore him, he's just an overgrown brat," Kamatari told the waitress.

For some reason, Megumi did not like the stepsister any better than her stepbrother. "Let me guess. You're a Honjo."

"Call me Kamatari. Unlike him, I don't really tell every single person I meet my last name. That is, unless I have to."

The older girl just rolled her eyes and started walking away.

Kamatari just shrugged. "I guess some people don't know how to handle celebrities." She looked around for the bartender, and found him patting the back of a girl slumped over a garbage basket. She saw the girl wipe some puke sliding down her chin with the handkerchief the boy handed her before leaning on her friends who helped her out of the pub.

"That has got to be the grossest part of your job," she commented once the bartender was back.

"Still part of the job," the chestnut-haired boy told her with a smile. "What can I get you?"

"Vodka please." Kamatari watched as he flipped the bottle in the air, catching it with the other hand and pouring the colorless liquid with one fluid motion. He dropped a piece of olive before passing the glass to her.

"As you wish," he smiled again, his lids covering his warm chocolate brown eyes. But it did not conceal the warmth in his voice.

The rich girl's dark blue eyes stayed glued on the young bartender's radiant face. She has never seen anyone quite like him. He was pretty cute. His chestnut-colored hair, his chocolate-colored eyes, his never-ending smiles… Kamatari finally caught herself, instantly dropping her gaze as blood flooded her cheeks. She could feel her heart flutter.

Deciding she needed to know his name, she cleared her throat and looked up. "Anou…"

"Yo, Soujirou! Give me the regular!" a voice called out.

The boy looked at the customer and nodded. "Hai!" He turned back to Kamatari. "Excuse me," he started, bowing his apology. "I'll be back in a sec."

"Sure…" Kamatari nodded, seating herself on the leather stool of the bar. She watched him mix several drinks.

'I'll be waiting…Soujirou-kun…'

*******************************************************************************************************************TBC

Author's Notes: Whew! That was a long one! As I said before, the Honjo Kamatari in this fic is an authentic girl, unlike the one in the series. I hope you wouldn't have a hard time picturing her as a female, since she does look very feminine, actually. At least I think so. ^_^ As you might have guessed, one of the side pairings I mentioned in the last chap is Sano/Megumi. It's gonna be real slight though, since the main focus should be on A/M/S…which is about to be hit by a whirlwind with a name. Erm, yeah. ^^; I'm sure you could guess who it is. So, anyway, what do you think? Is it getting too OOC? Is the story too clichéd? Is the writing bad? Please tell me the truth! I'm very much open to constructive criticism and suggestions! Tell me what you think! Oh, and of course, the eternal question: A/M or S/M? Review please!!

KiiKii: Thanks! Family problems and illness is a bad combination. I really hope BeyDen would get better soon. Once she's back in the internet, I hope this fic could cheer her up in a way. Hope it cheered YOU up. ^_^

regina-terrae: Sorry, as much as I want to count all ten, I'm afraid I could only count that as one vote. I decided to honor only one vote per review of a chapter. You could vote in every chapter but only one per chapter. Okay, that was confusing. ^^; Anyway, thanks for the review. There is no Kenshin-Aoshi interaction as of yet, but it's coming soon!

Cat H: Sexy? Heck, yeah! ^_^ I also adore men who are good cooks. I think they're…er…yummy. ^^; And that's another S/M vote in!

hmikomi: Since you voted for A/M in all three chaps, those are three A/M votes in! Hope you like this one.

Person: Another S/M vote! Yay! Go S/M!

Deathblade: Thanks! That's another A/M vote in. Am writing more! ^_^

rikki: That's an S/M vote in. What can you say about this chap?

Come on, people! Tell me who you think should be with Misao in the end? Review please!