Chapter 3 ~ Reunion

She was radiant. He watched her, laughing and chatting with the Himuras, noting the faint flush on her cheeks as they teased her and the secret longing in her eyes as she watched them. She seemed at once different and the same. She was no longer the audacious and lively seventeen-year-old he had left behind, her subtle movements belying the inner grace and calm she had gained with the years. Yet her eyes were as fathomlessly blue and her face as beguilingly innocent as ever ~ features that age could never take away, that he had committed to memory a thousand times over. Seeing her now made all the old anguish and longing come rushing back, emotions that had been dulled, but never fully erased, by the time of their separation. He wondered if they would ever truly leave him alone.

He saw her suddenly stiffen at Kaoru's news. So, she knows. They would have to face each other tonight. He closed his eyes in bitterness. She would not love him again, as she once did. What kind of reunion would they have when she showed no joy on her face?

Where could he be? Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a sign of his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette. "Ah, Aoshi," she sighed quietly to herself. "You are too good at hiding in the shadows." He was still watching her, she knew. How strange and unforgiving, that she could still be so sensitive to his presence, could still feel her pulse quickening at the thought of seeing him again, when he had entirely ceased to care for her. Once more, she felt the familiar dull ache of loneliness and loss.

She felt a hand upon her shoulder, and started to turn around.

"Misao," Shinomori Aoshi said softly.

The ache blossomed into pain.

They stood there, looking at each other, lost in their own world in the midst of the surrounding revelry.

He was magnificent, she thought. If he had been handsome before, he was breathtaking now. He stood a full head taller than most other people in the room, dressed in a skillfully cut tuxedo that emphasized his strong form. His hair shone darkly, falling into his eyes in that careless way she remembered so well. His eyes, a clear blue, looked straight into her own.

"Misao," Aoshi said again, enjoying the feel of her name upon his lips.

She gave herself a mental shake, and took control of her raging emotions. Outwardly, she looked as calm and distant as ever.

"Aoshi." She smiled slightly and extended her hand, with the superficial air of one meeting an old acquaintance. "It's good to see you again."

He took it. "As to you." There was such a wide chasm between them ~ it was as if they had never met, never known each other, never loved. "How have you been?"

She felt a ridiculous desire to scream. How have you been? Is that what he had to ask her, after all those years? But her face, once so powerless to hide her emotions, betrayed none of her inner turmoil.

"I'm well, thank you." She pulled away from his ~ very warm ~ grasp, afraid of what might happen if she let her hand rest there any further. "Congratulations on the architects' medal. I've heard some great things about your work."

His gaze upon her was very intense. "As to you," he repeated. "You've made wonderful progress, so I've heard, making partner at a record age and upsetting all those entrenched bores of the legal world." His eyes softened, and he smiled. "Okina must be very proud of you."

So this was how he would play the game. Despite her nervousness, Misao relaxed slightly. He was going to be the big brother again, the old comrade from her childhood. This would be easier than coldness and silence, and he must have known. She wondered at his smile, at how easily it reached his eyes now…then realized with a pang of envy that someone other than she must have taught him to do that. Don't go there, Misao. Focus on the present.

She returned the smile, a genuine one this time, as a pink flush spread becomingly over her cheeks. "You know Jiya. He's always so boastful, and he likes to exaggerate everything." She laughed, and her eyes sparkled. "If his stories were true, then I would be president already, not just partner at some law firm…the most successful female on the planet, as he would call me."

Her smile still took his breath away. Yet he was more touched by the modesty and affection behind her words. He opened his mouth to reply, but they were suddenly interrupted by someone calling his name. Someone annoyingly loud.

"Aoshi! There you are! Where did you disappear off to? You abandoned me with such bores!" The woman sprang upon his arm and clutched it tightly. She lifted up to give Aoshi a quick kiss, but stopped when she saw the cold warning in his eyes. It was then that she became aware of Misao's presence. "Oh hi!" she exclaimed, in a high, sugary voice. "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Megumi." She glanced at Misao, then shifted her adoring gaze to Aoshi. "Do you two know each other?"

Ignoring the quick stab of pain in her chest, Misao drew away from the couple, an icy lawyer once more. So he did have someone in his life. She had to admit that this Megumi was very beautiful, noting with a pang the other woman's tall, graceful figure and long, silky black hair. She looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. Of course Aoshi should be in love with her. And she had hoped…had hoped that they could start over again. Misao laughed bitterly at her own foolishness. What made you believe that he could love you when he's already left you once?

Aoshi watched her distance herself, helpless to cross that widening chasm and furious at Megumi's bad timing. Yameru! his mind called. You don't understand! But it was already too late.

"Yes," he replied to Megumi, unable to hide the disappointment from his voice. "We were childhood friends."

"Oh! How sweet!" she exclaimed, then turned on him reproachfully. "How come you never told me about her, darling?"

Misao flinched at the simple endearment. She should have been the one to say it! It was her right, her privilege…her loss. Unable to bear it any longer, she mumbled a vague excuse and took herself away.

Aoshi watched her leave, watched her nod wordlessly to the first young man who approached her for a dance, his fingers suddenly itching for his kodachi.

"Misao…"