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Title: "Second Glance"
Rating: PG-13
Author: Hummie
E-mail: suedepony@aol.com
Chapter One

DISCLAIMERS/AN(s): All standard disclaimers apply. Italics indicate thoughts or emphasis. Double parentheses indicate flashbacks. There's some lisping in the beginning. I found it irrelevant to put in the 'th' in place of the 's' because it's really tedious to make out the words. I'm sure you guys know what lisping sounds like.

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2:30 A.M.

She walked alone through the mist. She didn't like it. The cold. It pierced her skin. Her hair, normally pretty and curly, was limp from the damp. All alone, she walked along a brick-laid path, wearing her favorite pink bunny slippers. She bit her lip and looked around with uncertainty. She was afraid.
"Pumpkin, come here. Your mother would like to have a little chat with you."
She furrowed her brows and turned around. "P-Papa?" she stammered.
"Yes," said her father's voice, "I'm right here, Pumpkin. I'm with your mother. Come here, Usagi."
Usagi spun around again towards the voice. Her father's voice kept moving. She began to trot. She hated to be alone in a place that was foreign to her. Her uneven breath bounced off invisible walls and echoed into the night. Her damp, golden curls stuck to her neck. Slippers now gone, her bare feet slapped against hard concrete.
"Mama and papa want to see me, I must hurry," she mumbled, lisping all the while. She said it aloud in an attempt to comfort herself. She peered around in the darkness. She had to get to her parents. The mist was choking her. She was frightened.
"Papa? Mama? I can't see you…" she lisped vaguely. She ran towards a bright light. "Please… Where are you guys?" Tears gathered in her clear blue eyes.
"Usagi, come here, Pumpkin."
She pivoted to her left and almost ran into somebody. A solitary figure stood, arms crossed, laughter springing from their mouth. Usagi didn't like it. It coursed all around her; she was trapped in a cube of sinister laughter. She rammed into the wall with her frail body. It didn't budge. Tears spilled from her eyes as she clutched a hurt arm. She finally broke through the wall and ran away from the dreadful cackling. Running, she tripped and-- ringing, ringing, ring.

Kasumi immediately awoke and sat up in bed. That dream. She hadn't had that nightmare since she was thirteen. She grasped at her curls. They clung to her damp forehead. Now older, her hair was longer than it had been before. Kasumi gripped a pillow to her chest. Why was she having these nightmares again?
Painful flashbacks arose from her past.
A vision of a very short, flat-chested girl with cloudy-blue eyes appeared in her mind. The little girl had short, tight curls. Kasumi shook herself out of her reverie. Damned memories. She had been considered ugly. People always wondered why she was ugly-- her mother and father were both handsome. Her mother was glamorous and beautiful with her violet eyes and hair; her father with dark blonde hair and blue eyes was good-looking as well. At the age of twelve, she still hadn't begun to develop and carried a lisp. She was short and…
Kasumi shut her eyes tightly.
She was someone you wouldn't give a second glance. Kasumi recoiled at the thought. Kasumi felt bad for that little girl in the past. On the other hand, people considered her incredibly beautiful now. Her lisp gone and she was-- Ringing, ringing, ring.
Kasumi bared her perfect, white teeth abruptly; fiercely. Being interrupted from her thoughts annoyed her to no end. Who the hell was calling her at… She looked at the clock.
"Two thirty-four? Goddamnit…" She fell back onto her pink clad bed and picked up the still-ringing phone. "Hello…?"
"Kasumi-chan, your father told me to call you at your San Francisco apartment because you weren't--"
"Haru-chan, I left a message with the New York department and my agent that I'd like some time off. You know, a little rest and relaxation? R&R? Ever heard of it?"
"I'm sorry Kasumi-chan. Your father said that he wants you to…"
Kasumi listened, her eyes threatening to close from drowsiness. That nightmare had drained out all of her energy, leaving her weak. Her eyelids slowly shut, drifting into slumber.
Drifting, drifting, drift.
She awoke at one word, however, because she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Usagi, are you there?"
Kasumi bit her lip in irritation. "Haruka, you are my oldest and dearest friend. You know for a fact that I do not like to be called Usagi."
"Haru-chan," she continued, "I'm not so sure about joining my father. Anywhere, I'll join him anywhere else, but not there. I don't know why, but I just… can't."
"Kasumi-chan, I have no clue as to why you don't want to return to Japan. Maybe it's because of your--"
"No, Haru-chan," she interrupted, "It's not because of my mother. I actually want to go back and pay my respects to her, visit her… grave. Haruka, there's just this nagging feeling within me that I can't explain. I just don't feel comfortable with the prospect of returning."
"I know how you feel. There are just some things that we don't want to return to."

**********

His muscled figure was sprawled across his bed. His dark, tousled hair laid on his pillow. Another figure lay on the bed beside of him, snoring softly.
A womanly snore.
He couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't because she was snoring. He'd been having this problem for some time now-- ever since his mother had passed away. He sighed and closed his eyes. His mother. Damn, he felt so guilty. Mamoru shut his eyes. The thoughts came rushing at him like a tsunami, crushing him under its weight. He didn't want to think about it. He opened his eyes again.
Empty.
He felt empty. Nothing ever appeased him. He rarely smiled. It was like this in all things. Work. Relationships. It just wasn't satisfying anymore.
Something vibrated on the bed. Muttering, he looked around for the problem. He picked up his cellular phone.
"Yeah? What the hell do you want?" he asked in Japanese, using the lowest possible term of 'you'.
"Well, hello to you, too," mocked the voice. "Ever since I've left Tokyo, you've turned into an…"
Mamoru sat up, jostling the woman rudely. He couldn't believe it. "Holy shit! Demando?! What's up? I haven't heard from you for a couple of years now." Mamoru paused and sucked in a breath of air. "How's England?"
"Well, it's fine. I think I'm developing the accent." A laugh. "Anyway, guess what?"
"Mm…?"
"I'll be in your presence quite soon, and I want you to pick me up at the airport."
Mamoru made a sound between his teeth. "Well now, you don't hold out for the suspense, do you?"
"Eh… Not really, Mamoru-kun. I'm gonna go now. I'll call you to let you know what's going on. Sleep tight." Beep.
Mamoru shook his head and laughed. The dawn light was just coming in through his vertical blinds. He instantly smiled. The 'Wonder Boys' were going to get back together again.

**********

Kasumi tipped her head to one side, her glistening locks tumbling about her snow-white leather jacket. Pretty. The clouds were very pretty. She sighed as her crystalline eyes followed the pieces of fluffy whiteness. An impeccable, sky-blue stratosphere. Enchanting, milky-white clouds. Picturesque puffs of ivory, looking very much like lace, coursed their way across the sky. Kasumi licked her lips. She traced the window's edge with the tips of her fingers and winced.
Pain. Discomfort. Affliction.
Kasumi grabbed at her temples. She was undergoing these headaches more and more often. She paused to press her thumb and index finger into the crook between her closed eyes. The doctor had told her that they were from stress, and Kasumi sincerely believed him. Returning to Japan, her homeland. That was enough to send her over her edge…
…but she didn't really know why. She bit her rose-tinted lips as more pangs of pain settled in. She made a rude sound between teeth and whimpered softly. Japan. Now she was actually going back.
Japan, Japan, Japan. Why am I so afraid to visit you?
Muscles clenched due to the added stress of her migraine. Her shoulder muscles had compressed and were as hard as rocks. Her neck throbbed. Kasumi muttered a curse word that would have shocked her father.
She had never experienced anything as bad as this. She started her count and took a couple of deep breaths.
One, two. Inhale.
Three, four. Exhale.
After a while, her breathing slowed to its normal pace, her muscles relaxed, and her headache ceased. She narrowed her eyes at the seat in front of her.
Why the hell does the notion of going back scare me so much?
"Usssaaaaagggiiii…" teased a weird sounding voice.
Kasumi's azure eyes narrowed and swiftly steered themselves toward--
"Haruka-chan!" She slugged her tomboyish friend playfully, tears of gratitude and surprise forming in her eyes. "When and how did you get on this flight? I thought you were calling me from New York!"
Haruka chuckled tossed her head to one side, getting her short blonde hair out of her way. "I just wanted to surprise you. I was here all along. Your father wants me over there, too." Haruka smiled again and said, "Usssaaaaagggiiii…" in a weird voice.
"Haru-chan," Kasumi grimaced, "why are you calling me by that name? I think you do that just to spite me!"
Stars twinkled in her friend's eyes. "I'm sorry Kasumiko, our own little child of the mist, it's just so funny to see you mad."
Haruka saw her friend's icy glare. "I'm sorry, Kasumi-chan, but you just weren't answering me. You were off in Wonderland or something."
Kasumi pouted and watched as Haruka's eyes rolled heavenwards, twice. The Double Whammy!
"God, you are such a baby, Kasumiko."
"I am not! I'm twenty-three! Ha!" Kasumi stuck out a tongue and turned back towards the window. Haruka grinned and leaned back in her first class seat. A "Lassie" movie was coming on, but neither of them wanted to watch it.
Haruka spoke. "You know, I love your nickname. Kasumi; mist. Your father made a good call when he called you that." Haruka tapped a quick beat on the armrest of her seat and began to hum a pleasant tune.

((It was hectic backstage. Her father's assistants were helping models jump into the chic outfits that he had designed while others were running about in practically nothing. Makeup artists were dashing to and fro, heightening the creamy complexions of the next models to get on the runway. The tech people were shouting orders to each other on when to cue the smoke, black lights, blue lights, etc.
Usagi watched in amazement. She had lived in this life-style for the past three years, but she had never noticed how full of life everything was. Sure, it was chaotic and frenzied, but it was just so…right.
"Pumpkin."
Usagi turned around to face her father. "Yes, papa?" Usagi halted to observe her father's appearance. He was clad in a black suit that he had designed himself, of course.
"Pumpkin," he began again. He was obviously in some agitation. "I… eh…"
"Yes, papa?" Worry furrowed her brow. "Is there something wrong?"
He cleared his throat with slight agitation. "Yes, sort of. Do you remember Antonia Dangby? Her agent just called to say that she isn't coming in tonight."
Usagi's eyes widened. "But, papa, isn't she the main model for tonight? W-who's going to model for you? It's the opening of your spring collection!"
Usagi felt so bad for her father. Antonia was to sport seven major outfits while the other eight female and male models would only showcase three each. Her father didn't have the time to refit the outfits to another model, let alone FIND another one.
"Usagi," her father smiled and sweat-dropped, "that's why I wanted to talk to you. You see, you've got Antonia's exact height and body structure. You're both the same sizes. I…" Tsukino Kenji got down on his knees. "Please model the outfits that she was going to wear!"
Usagi was shocked. Her father kneeled before her, his hands clasped and outstretched in pleading. Could she really? Her? A model? She was only sixteen, although, she had grown considerably in the past four years. She was now at a daunting five foot ten, just shorter than her mother had been. Her physique had become more womanly; curves attributing her body. It was the New York debuting of her father's spring collection-- she had to do it.
But she was nervous.
She smiled at her father who was peeking at her through his fingers. "Where do I get set up, papa?"

After learning how to walk in stiletto-type heels and being made up, Usagi was now called onto the runway. Although unusual, her father was acting as Master of Ceremonies.
Bedazzled by the bright lights, she carefully walked forward and onto the runway. The flashing of light bulbs almost made her dizzy. Fear taking over, she nearly ran offstage. Then she remembered her father. She couldn't let his reputation as a promising designer go spiraling down. She walked forward with her head up, confidence illuminating from every part of her body. The spectators loved her instantaneously. Whisperings went about the crowd; they wanted to know who the new model was. Time came for the main outfit of the evening.
"And we now see the main outfit of the evening. A white and trailing ensemble made from chiffon. Done in the shifting colors of the rain we have…" Tsukino Kenji trailed off as he glanced at his daughter. Pride swept over him; he had never seen her more beautiful. The way Usagi held herself reminded him so much of his deceased wife. Usagi's hair was up, golden tendrils just escaping the diamond-like clips that held up her pompadour. Her pale skin radiated warmth. Her lips were a pale pink rose; she looked like a fairy from the…
"And we have Kasumiko in the outfit I designed entitled, 'Kasumi no Sennyo'."
Murmurs of agreement released from the crowd. This beautiful youth called "Child of the Mist" donning a charming outfit entitled, "Fairy of the Mist"-- it was too perfect; very charming. Usagi, newly dubbed Kasumiko, ran to her father and gave him a hug.))

"Hey, Kasumiko-chan, wake up. You've been sleeping forever. We're landing already."
Kasumi rubbed her eyes and laughed. "You've gotta be joking."
Haruka merely shook her head. "Look out of your window." Kasumi obeyed and saw the bright lights of Tokyo. She was really here. A chill went up and down her spine as a feeling of foreboding plagued her thoughts.

**********

"Yeah? What do you want?" he asked in Japanese.
Demando grunted with displeasure. "Cousin, you've really got to stop answering your phone that way."
Mamoru spied a look at the woman across from him. He grinned and mouthed 'my cousin.' He cleared his throat. "Demando-san! How are you doing, cousin? It is doubly nice hearing from you again!"
Demando rolled his eyes. "Don't even try that with me, Mamoru- kun. I made up that whole sugary act. I'm totally pissed off at you right now. Actually, I'm pissed off enough to drive over and shoot you in the head."
Mamoru rolled his eyes and gave a small laugh. "Demando, is it just me or are you wishing that you were actually in the same countr… Holy shit! I totally forgot!"
"Yep, Mamo-kun, you've done it again. You are late and I've been waiting for at least an hour at the airport. I'm hungry and I really think you should come over here… NOW."
Mamoru sweat-dropped and looked at the woman across from him once more. He was seated in Kaze, a well-known restaurant. He was hoping to break up with-- he briefly glanced at her-- Keito. She was sweet, but he just wasn't enjoying it anymore, the relationship. Her fake cinnamon dyed hair and purple contacts were making him sick.
"Demo-kun, I'll be right there."
Demando had to smile at the use of his nickname. He hadn't been called that for some time now. "Fine, but you better feed me after you pick me up." Beep.
"Was anything the matter, Chiba-chan?" Keito asked in a soft voice.
Mamoru tilted his head. "No, not really. I have to go and pick up my cousin at the airport." Mamoru saw her docile features turning angry. Before she could say or do anything he said,
"Gomen nasai, Keito-san, we've got to break up. I've currently realized that my feelings for you were false." He immediately whipped out a rose and walked away.

**********

"You certainly packed light," observed Haruka. She glanced at Kasumi's mini suitcase and then at her own luggage.
"Well, Haru-chan, I called my father before packing. He said to pack light. I guess he's going to supply me with a wardrobe."
Haruka rolled her eyes and made a face. "Figures," she muttered, "being the daughter of an international designer."
The airport was unusually busy. The sounds of airplanes, private jets, and courier planes getting ready, landing, and taking off could be heard from inside the airport. Kasumiko sighed. Her father was to pick her up from the airport and--
Her breath caught in her throat. She was sitting quietly on one of the blue chairs, her little white suitcase at her feet. Through the multitudes of people she saw…
…someone familiar?
Kasumi couldn't place her finger on it. A very tall young man, maybe older than her, with shoulder-length white colored hair stood to her left. He was glancing at his watch and tapping his foot. Kasumi's crystalline eyes widened and her mouth formed a small strawberry colored 'O'. Kasumi brought a delicate hand to her forehead…
…and realized that she was blushing.

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I cannot believe that stupid cousin of mine, Mamoru.
Demando was fuming. To think that he actually thought that his cousin would be thrilled that he would be coming to visit him in Tokyo. The ungrateful bastard. Demando decided he might as well sit down. He didn't know where the hell Mamoru was coming from. For all he knew, he could be there for another hour. I should have just taken a freaking taxi.
He glanced around him and started walking towards the blue chairs to his right. Sitting with her legs crossed, wearing a knee- length white leather skirt sat one of the prettiest young women that he had ever seen. A subtle flush played about her cheekbones. She had a soft, but strong, bone structure and sweet, red lips. Her eyes unexpectedly transferred towards his and he felt his heart flutter within him.
She was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Her luscious lips were shaped in a captivating and devastatingly sexy 'O'. It made him think of other things…
Demando smiled at the petite blonde. "Hi," he said in English. "Is this seat taken?" He gestured to the empty seat beside her.

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The end of chapter one.