Chapter 2 ~ Across a Crowded Room

The restaurant was going to be a success, he thought with satisfaction, looking at the happy and well-fed party guests while feigning polite attention towards the man who was talking to him. The design had worked, and the sweetness of that triumph was made more complete by the thought of repaying his old tutor for all those years of kindness and charity. It was Okina who had taken him in as a boy, who had trained him to become a master of martial arts, who had taught him to use the twin kodachi of his ancestors; Okina who had instilled in him the determination to work towards a better future when his past had seemed so bleak. Shinomori Aoshi never forgot the kindness of others, and never failed to repay a debt. When Okina had approached him with the idea of building a Japanese-style restaurant, he had agreed readily and refused any form of payment. It was a duty, he had assured the protesting man, the duty of a son towards his father. Unable and unwilling to argue against that, Okina had finally relented. He really did see Okina as the father he never knew, who had given him the happiest years of his life, and…

His mind protested the thought, but his heart whispered it for him. …And Misao, it told him impishly, and if Aoshi could have scowled it back into obedience, as he could with so many others, he would have.

"Shinomori-san?" the businessman, who had been informing him of a prospective new project, asked apprehensively. Shinomori Aoshi was not a man to disrespect, even if it was obvious that his mind had wandered off during their very important conversation. He waited nervously until the taller man lost his far-away gaze and turned his attention back to the present. "Ah…Shinomori-san," he cleared his throat, "as I was saying…"

Focus. Aoshi forced himself to listen to the short, stuttering Japanese man. Despite his unimposing appearance, the man represented a large Tokyo-based firm with interests in opening a D.C. branch. It was a significant deal, and hotly contested by top architects from all over the country. Of course ~ and here he smiled, almost imperceptibly, almost smugly ~ he was the favored one. He had done very well over the years as an architect, building and expanding his own firm from the ground up. Now one of the most favored designers in the country, Aoshi had grown from a penniless young orphan to occupying the top of the most eligible bachelor list. Women seemed to flock to him endlessly, although he made it a rule not to let any one of them have a permanent place in his life. He lived in a huge, empty apartment of his own design, filled with the hard edges and crystalline structures he so favored in his work. Any girl who had ever stood there in its cold empty space had shivered unconsciously at its total lack of warmth and life. And none of them could ever provide that for Aoshi, not after…

No. He pushed the thought away. Not now. He couldn't think of her now. It had been too long ago, and he had been a completely different person then. Besides, she's probably already forgotten about me.

It was at that moment that he saw her.

Misao tried to stifle a yawn, impeccable manners unwilling to allow her any expression of boredom. Although outwardly she tried to appear interested, her thoughts had already turned elsewhere. Their conversation was so boring, filled with so much lawyer-talk that she found it hard to believe she shared their same profession. Although she was every bit as driven and dedicated, Misao liked to believe that she was…different, that she cared for more than legal terms and rich clients. Her work at the orphanage was an example, and she would have liked to do more ~ if only she had more time. Her recent promotion to partner ~ with only two years' experience, she had set a much-envied record ~ didn't help matters much. It seemed as if she always had a million things to do at once. Still…she sighed, softly and inaudibly. Life seemed frighteningly empty. Her "successful" career, pretty outfits, and lofty penthouse at the Ritz Carlton had all lost the rosy glow of childhood fantasy. She wondered briefly how achieving her ambitions could leave her still so unsatisfied, how life had lost the "coloring of romance" it once wore. For she had been different. She had been happy, once. But she had lost all that, after…after…

"Misao!" a familiar voice cried. She turned and was immediately enveloped in a laughing, silken embrace. Through her surprise she recognized long dark hair and bright blue eyes.

"Kaoru!" she replied just as joyfully, returning the hug. Although the older girl was only a distant cousin, the two had grown up together in D.C. and been fast friends.

"Misao, how have you been? No, where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for ages and it's always your answering machine…" her voice took on a teasing tone, as she nudged her cousin playfully. "Don't tell me you've met someone special and not even bothered to tell me! And here we've been," she added, pulling her handsome, red-headed husband close, "worried sick about you!"

Himura Kenshin smiled warmly at his cousin-in-law, noting immediately the faint sadness masked behind the shining eyes. "It's good to see you again, Misao." He put an arm affectionately around his wife. "Kaoru has been longing to talk to you."

Misao beamed lovingly at the couple ~ she loved seeing Kenshin and Kaoru together. They had met eight years ago, when Kenshin was still a new instructor at Okina's martial arts school, and fallen for each other immediately. Of course, being quiet and shy, Kenshin took a while before openly expressing his feelings, but anyone could see that they were meant for each other. They had been married for more than five years now, but they still had the glow of happy newlyweds. She smiled and forgot her earlier melancholy; seeing them always seemed to make her happy.

"Kaoru, of course I haven't met anyone!" she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. "I've gotten the reputation of being quite the ice princess around here."

"Not that you don't deserve it, with the way you treat some of those poor, earnest guys!" Kaoru returned. "Anyway, you won't believe who we just saw tonight. Guess who decided to show up at last after all these years?"

Misao felt the color drain from her face. Something about Kaoru's tone…and those thoughts that had been plaguing her lately…Please, she prayed silently. Don't let it be him.

Kenshin tried to warn his wife, but he was too late. He knew very little of Shinomori Aoshi, the latter having left a few weeks before his own arrival, but he was perceptive, and had felt the quietly disturbed atmosphere of the dojo that had lingered for months after Aoshi's departure. No one had addressed the matter directly, and neither Misao nor Okina ever ventured any details, but Kenshin could feel that this was a very delicate matter at hand.

"It was Aoshi!" Kaoru exclaimed happily, oblivious to the suddenly charged atmosphere around her. "I was so excited, and you were the first person I thought of, Misao! You must be so glad to finally be able to see him again! Why Misao…" she had suddenly noticed her cousin's pale face and frightened eyes. "What's wrong?"

Without another word, she fled. Away from Kenshin and Kaoru, willing herself to disappear into the crowd. She couldn't face him again ~ could never face him again! Suddenly, she froze, her progress halted abruptly by a familiar sensation.

He was here. Watching her. And this time, she could not escape.