"Mr. Kiyosato? Do you approve?"

Akira snapped back into reality as he stared into the expectant gazes of the people in the boardroom. He cleared his throat, trying to buy some time out of the embarrassment of being caught absentminded, and soon giving up because it was pointless to pretend he heard what was being discussed. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that again?"

Though difficult, he soon managed to collect his wits again to fully comprehend what they were supposed to be deliberating in the boardroom until the meeting was finished. He nodded in recognition of each murmured goodbyes of his staff, but as soon as he found himself alone, he fell into the reverie that he had been in before the meeting started.

His heart thudded frantically in his chest. His grip was tight on the steering wheel. Cold sweat trickled down his back as he took a sharp turn to the parking lot of his destination.

"Same time, same place," the phantom said. To their favorite restaurant, at their favorite time of the day. She knew he remembered, just like she knew he still remembered her.

Calm down, you moron, he told himself repeatedly as he fumbled through the motions of locking his car. He had to take too many deep breaths before he found himself dizzy with too much oxygen in his brain, and had to pace himself. Act normal. Calm down. Don't panic. Don't worry. Those words were his mantra for every step he took towards his destination. They were completely useless, however, so he resorted to cursing. Even that didn't help.

He barely heard the usher ask to take his coat, much less respond to it as quickly as he would have done in normal circumstances, but fortunately the usher didn't mind. His eyes quickly scanned the restaurant for any sign of the phantom, but as soon as he tried to convince himself it was just a trick, he found her.

She didn't see him yet, so he had an advantage of composing himself (if at all possible) before he faced her. As he paused and stood where he was, his gaze lingered over the phantom's profile. She still wore her hair long and straight, although it was shorter by a few inches. She still clasped her hands demurely in her lap, looking down on them as if contemplating the mysteries of the world in her fingertips. And as he stepped closer to her, she still wore the white plum perfume that he had once given her as a gift.

It has been five years since he last saw her, five years since the day that… He shook his head. Whatever is past is already past, and probably all she wanted was to renew an acquaintance with him.

The thought doused his anxiety with cold water. Renewing an acquaintance. Of course.

Finally achieving the calm demeanor he was trying to force on himself since he answered her call, he walked up to the table where she was.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," he said casually as he slid into the chair in front of her. "I couldn't beat the traffic fast enough."

Tomoe Yukishiro smiled. "That's okay," she replied. "I wasn't here too long."

He looked at her for a while, trying to decide whether she was lying or not, but was interrupted by her laugh. "Stop looking so suspicious," she said, "I really wasn't here too long."

"I'm never sure if you really mean what you say," he blurted out unthinkingly, then a moment later, as the realization sank in, he quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, I…"

She shook her head. "It's okay. I think I deserve it, don't I?" She grinned jauntily, but she couldn't stop her lips from shaking. The grin soon disappeared from her face, and to look for something else to do, she took the water glass and drank from it.

He sighed harshly. This is not going as planned, isn't it? he chided himself. "I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I didn't intend to say anything like that. I'm actually glad you're back." To set her at ease, he tried to talk about other things. "After five years of hard work, clearly you need some time for rest." He smiled at her, for good measure.

"Thanks, but it's not going to be for long, anyway," she replied. "I'm going back after a month to start on another television series, so it's going to be a long time again before I can be able to come back."

"Just take care of yourself, all right?" he said.

She nodded. "I will." Then they lapsed into silence again.

The waiter brought him the menu, and because he couldn't look at her, he stared at the list instead. "What would you like to have?"

"I've ordered," Tomoe replied. "You go ahead."

As he placed his order, he found her unnervingly studying him. "Is there something wrong with my face?"

Tomoe shook her head. "You look better," she remarked.

"And would that be a good thing, or a bad thing?" he asked, smiling.

"Of course it's a good thing. How can it not be?" she smiled in return. "I'm glad you found love again."

"Oh, so looking better equates to being in love again?" he chuckled. "I thought that applies to women."

Tomoe shook her head. "Love comes to us all, doesn't it?" She set her elbows on the edge of the table and put her head on her intertwined fingers. "So, who is she? Tell me all about her."

Akira laughed. "Well, you look better too," he said, then, mimicking her actions, he continued, "So, who is he? Tell me all about him."

Tomoe laughed in turn. "You got me. But really, I'm curious. What have you been doing these past few years without me?"

Akira leaned back. "I languished without you, Tomoe," he said seriously, folding his arms across his chest.

Tomoe put her hands on her lap and stared at them. "I'm sorry…"

"Hey," Akira called her attention. "It's okay. I'm just joking, Tomoe." He smiled. "At first it was difficult, but gradually, you learn to move on, you know? It was just an added bonus when I met Kaoru."

"I'm very glad you did," Tomoe said. Then, smirking, she added, "But of course I knew that." When their orders arrived, she continued, "So tell me about Kaoru."

"There's too much to tell, where am I going to start?" Akira chuckled. "Suffice it to say that Kaoru came when I least expected her, when I never thought I could be able to love again."

Tomoe twirled her pasta thoughtfully. "That is very good." She raised her eyes to him. "I am very happy for you. I think I'll continue saying that most especially now that you're engaged. How did she hold up with meeting all those… people?"

"You mean Aunt Nitta?" Akira grinned. "She got along fine with her, strangely enough. Aunt grudgingly told me that I picked a fine girl."

"That's high praise, coming from her," Tomoe said, impressed. "Kaoru must be brilliant enough to amaze Mrs. Nitta. I couldn't do that." Then, wishing she hadn't said that, she put a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

"Kaoru didn't have to impress Aunt Nitta, and neither did you," Akira remarked quietly as he turned to his food too. They both fell silent again, with only the clinking of forks and knives on plates to break that silence.

Akira sighed. "Let's just not go over the past again, shall we?" he said. "Frankly, it doesn't make for good conversation."

Tomoe looked at him intently. "But that is precisely what I came here for: to make peace with my past, and to know that you're all right," she said quietly.

His fist clenched on the table. "You didn't need to come back for that," he said, trying to keep his temper in check. "What do you want to hear?"

"Your forgiveness, Akira," Tomoe said. She reached out and gently held his clenched fist. He instinctively drew back, but she held on. "I've done you too many wrongs, made many mistakes, one above all, so please tell me what I can do to make amends."

Akira drew back his hand from her grasp. Avoiding her eyes by turning to the waiter to collect their bill, he said, "You shouldn't have come back then. That would have been nice."

"Akira –"

Still avoiding her gaze, Akira said, "I was managing pretty well for these past years, since you left me alone. Why did you need to come back to disturb that?"

Spotting Kenshin, Akira turned his eyes on him as he continued, "I've learned to move on, Tomoe, but the pain is still here. It has turned into a scar, just like Kenshin's, that I'll always carry for the rest of my life."

"So you still haven't forgiven me, after all," Tomoe said miserably.

"You're wrong, I have," Akira said, glaring at her. Then he turned his eyes away again quickly. "It's just difficult to forget."

Tomoe turned her head to see Kenshin looking at her. "I understand."

And that conversation didn't end properly. Just like their relationship.

Akira put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. Between his fingers, he could see the last rays of the setting sun.

Confronting the past was more difficult than he thought it would be. He thought he was strong enough, calm enough, and cool enough to see Tomoe Yukishiro again. But that one encounter with her showed him how wrong he was. It threw his mind into disarray, his heart into confusion.

Because, to be perfectly honest with himself, despite all the pain and anger that Tomoe Yukishiro caused, deep down, in a remote corner of his heart, he still thought of her, still had feelings for her.

Still loved her.

What happens now? Kenshin had asked. "I don't know," he whispered in the air, honestly speaking out what he really felt.

Then his glance fell on Kaoru's framed picture on his desk. It was a stolen shot of her during their first vacation together. She was wearing a printed sun dress, and was seated beside a sand castle.

Kaoru. Akira reached out to hold the picture. He remembered that day on the beach, on the last day of that vacation, when they decided to build sand castles to cap off five days of wonderful memories.

"You're building your castle too close to the waves, Kaoru," Akira called out. "Watch out!"

Kaoru just laughed in reply. True enough, a strong wave washed off a part of Kaoru's castle. Akira smirked. "I told you so."

Kaoru continued to pile up sand on the washed-up part. "That's part of the adventure of building sand castles, Akira," she simply said. "You build, waves pull it down, but you keep on building until you have a complete castle." She patted a portion of sand in place.

"But this is so much effort for just a fragile thing," Akira complained. "Later, this wouldn't look like a castle but simply a clump of sand."

"True," agreed Kaoru, "but it was still a good thing while it lasted." She smiled. "Just like anything else in the world."

A strong breeze blew, catching Kaoru's hair. She closed her eyes to take it all in. When she opened them again, she found Akira taking a picture of her. "Hey!" she protested.

Akira shrugged, and mumbled, "I can't resist." Just like how he couldn't resist walking up to her, leaning towards her, and kissing her.

The first time he kissed her.

That was also the day when he first knew he loved Kaoru. The first time he felt that he could heal from the wounds that Tomoe inflicted. The first time he had let love enter his heart again and felt that somebody else could fill the void that Tomoe created.

Kaoru.

Akira breathed out harshly. If anything, Kaoru doesn't deserve this from him. She had shown him nothing but love and loyalty, and here he was, wavering in both. She didn't deserve this.

But the problem was, how can he command his heart?

"Here is your coffee, Miss Yukishiro," the waitress politely placed the cup of coffee on the table. "Would there be anything else?"

Tomoe shook her head. "That's all, thank you," she replied. When the waitress didn't move, she looked up and saw an eager face, one which she had been accustomed to seeing in people who approach her and recognize her for her celebrity status. She smiled at her, a well-practiced smile that concealed the exasperation she felt about the whole celebrity thing. "Do you need anything from me?"

The waitress could barely restrain her giddiness. "Oh, Miss Yukishiro, you have no idea how much I have prayed that I could see you even once," she said, "and now I have. Can I ask for your autograph, please?"

Tomoe obliged, though hastily because she knew the waitress was going to get in trouble for this. After receiving the precious piece of paper, and looking too overjoyed to bursting, the waitress bowed and moved away.

Tomoe took some time before taking a sip of the coffee. Sitting once again in her favourite coffee shop gave her a heartfelt happiness that she rarely felt during the five years that she lived in another country, away from home. So did looking out the window and seeing a familiar horizon, walking in the streets and hearing a familiar commotion, and breathing deep and inhaling a familiar scent.

My dear country. Why in the world did I keep away from you?

She smiled quietly to herself and sipped her coffee again. Of course she knew why. And there is absolutely no reason why I would dwell on it again.

Except it had always preyed upon her for those five years. Especially now.

She pulled up the collar of her coat and adjusted the scarf around her neck. It was the normal temperature for winter, but for some reason she was feeling too cold. She would be boarding her plane in about five minutes.

As she pulled at the scarf, her fingers grazed the blue opal pendant in her necklace. They stilled, and instead lingered at the pendant. It was the last token of a beautiful memory, one that was unsullied by the action that she was about to do today.

She could still see it. The white flowing dress, and the delicate sandals that came with it. The flowers that gave off such incredible scents. The stained glass casting colorful shadows on the floor. The slow tolling of the bell.

And him, at the end of the red carpet, standing still near the altar, awaiting her.

It was a promise that she would never fulfill.

Now, she was leaving without even a single goodbye. She was a coward that way. She didn't even mention anything to his best friend, and knowing him, he'd take her actions badly. Too badly, probably, in the lines of the "lethal" kind, but at least she managed to escape from that.

She didn't know what he'd do, though, and thinking about possibilities was even worse than actually experiencing his friend's revenge. She shook her head. She really was a coward.

She sighed as she took her hand away from the pendant and put it deep in the pockets of her coat. Without a backward glance, she strode forward and took the last steps she would ever have in her country.

She promised herself she wouldn't come back again. And yet, he drew her in. He could always draw her in, no matter how much she resisted. He could easily make her do things that she wasn't accustomed to do.

Like fall in love with him, and then leave him behind.

She glanced down at the black rectangular box near her hand. No matter what she regretted, it would stay simply that: a regret that she will keep buried in her heart, a scar that she can never do away, no matter what kind of makeup or mask she used.

She took a sip again at her coffee as she heard the tinkle of the chimes attached on the door of the coffee shop.

What she needed to do now is to right the wrong that she did against Akira Kiyosato. And to start with, he needed to take his heart back from her. And probably in the process, yank hers with it.

Sigh. The difficulties that rise when you're confused. =)