Chapter 2 ~ Small Beginnings
For one brief moment the room was deafeningly silent, its inhabitants forgetting even to breathe in their shock. Then in a flurry of bags and kisses the two older women were gone, leaving Misao to what they knew had to be her own confrontation. Omasu winked cheekily at the wide-eyed secretary, still waiting at the door.
"Yes, we know he's handsome, my dear." Laughing softly, she pulled Ruth away and left Misao to prepare herself in privacy. "Wait until she tells you to let him in."
How? When? Why? Misao desperately snatched at the storm of questions, explanations, answers swirling through her confusion. Aoshi was here…just outside…waiting for her. She struggled to calm herself. No matter what, common courtesy demanded that she be polite to her visitors. Even if it meant seeing, and speaking, to him again.
"Ruth?" she called, dismayed at the timidity of her own voice.
"Yes, Miss Makimachi?"
"You can let him in now."
A nervousness he hadn't felt in many years was plaguing him now as he waited outside her office. Trying to focus on anything besides the anxious fluttering in his stomach, Aoshi stared at the tastefully decorated waiting area, flooded with light from the late afternoon sun and accented with plush peach-colored chairs. The walls were hung with framed photographs, mostly of sunsets and sunrises, their subjects various familiar D.C. monuments. He wondered absently if she had taken them, and why they were filled with such achingly familiar loneliness.
"Mr. Shinomori?" the secretary's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts as he turned to face her. Her eyes widened in wonder again at the handsome man inquiring after her employer ~ she had seen him on the cover of various magazines and hotly discussed in the gossip columns. "She's ready to see you."
His gaze rested only briefly on her before shifting to Misao's closed door. "Thank you," he murmured, brushing past the self-conscious aide towards his true destination.
With a gentle push, the door gave way and he stood at the opening to her office. She lifted her eyes to his and time seemed to stop.
She sat, stiff and upright, in an enormous leather chair which threatened at any moment to engulf her slim body. Dressed in a simple cream sheath, hair half pulled back and falling to her shoulders, she nevertheless took his breath away. A sparkling pendant nestled in the hollow of her throat caught his attention as his eyes wandered over her body, then returned once more to her face. A soft flush had burned into it when he'd arrived.
"Hello Misao." The words seemed painfully inadequate to what he was feeling.
As if suddenly waking from a trance, she hurriedly motioned for him to sit down in a nearby sofa. "Aoshi…" she hesitated slightly, not wanting to sound rude. "What brings you here today?"
Why was he here? He himself hadn't thought to provide an answer ~ he'd only felt the urge to see her again, especially after the previous night's dream. But now he was stuck without any explanation for his presence, the great Shinomori Aoshi who was never unfazed and never caught off-guard. His lips quirked in an ironic smile at his predicament. He missed the startled wonder in her eyes as she witnessed what was to her another rare occurrence.
"I…I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner." What had he just said? He waited with bated breath and fought for calm, even as he realized that that was what he'd wanted all along.
"For…dinner?" Misao repeated, more to herself than anyone else, just to make sure that she'd heard right. Whatever she'd been expecting from Aoshi's visit, it certainly hadn't been a dinner invitation. Then again, they were old acquaintances, even friends ~ if she would allow it. And she realized that she had no right to refuse his friendship, not after everything they'd been through. They owed each other that much, at least. He must have seen that too. His intentions were perfectly innocent, after all. She brushed aside the vague feeling of disappointment at this and called herself an idiot for expecting anything else.
After only a moment's hesitation she nodded, giving him a friendly smile. "Of course. I'd like that very much."
He let out a silent sigh of relief and marveled anew at the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up at seven o'clock." He didn't need to ask for her address, nor did she need to volunteer it. Everything was…understood. He smiled slightly at her upturned face, and this time did not miss her response. "We'll eat at the Aoiya. I'm sure Okina will be glad."
She grimaced in mock annoyance. "I'm sure he would," she muttered. "Okina seems to especially enjoy torturing others in his presence." She clapped a hand to her mouth in dismay. "Not…not that…" she rushed to explain, momentarily at a loss for words.
Aoshi held up a hand, feigning a hurt expression. "No need to continue Misao, now that I know how you really feel." Only the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him.
For one awful moment Misao thought that she'd really hurt him. She felt her stomach clench in panic, but then noted with growing suspicion the brightness of his eyes and the playful smile threatening to overcome his serious expression. "Hey!" she cried in protest. "You tricked me!"
Seeing his smile widen and, impossibly, reach his eyes, Misao felt a ridiculous urge to laugh, or burst into tears. She chose the former, and soon her clear laughter rang out in the room, dissipating any previous tension. Aoshi watched her with obvious pleasure, almost tempted into joining her…But it would be better not to surprise her too much at once. His gaze lingered on her mirthful face, then he reluctantly turned to leave.
"Don't forget," he reminded her, still smiling. "Seven o'clock tonight."
Not for the world, Aoshi. Outwardly, she responded with some of her old enthusiasm, "I won't forget…and I'll be ready."
At seven o'clock, when the doorbell rang punctually, she was freshly bathed and waiting. As the door slowly swung open, each waiting person took a silent breath and momentarily froze at the sight that greeted them.
His breath caught once more, as if he could never cease being moved by the vision before him. She was radiant and smiling, clad in a thin, silky slip of a dress. The pale pink material lightly skimmed over her curves and set off the golden tan of her skin. Her hair was pulled back, a few soft tendrils framing her petite features. She wore the necklace he'd seen before.
She hesitated in a similar fashion when she saw him, stunned by his absolute, almost flawless beauty. He was so beautiful…her hands ached to touch him, to skim over the strong planes of his face and run themselves through his dark hair. His suit fit him perfectly, quiet evidence of good taste and self-assured masculinity. She had to tear her gaze away, just to be on solid ground.
But outwardly they did not meet as old lovers, just dear friends. A little bit of the warmth they'd shared all those years ago had begun to return, and neither wished to strain the delicate balance of this fragile bridge. With a murmured greeting, he helped her put on her coat, then waited patiently while she locked the door to the apartment. Without further words ~ both afraid to disturb the poignancy of the moment ~ they left the building.
The aged doorman smiled affectionately as the couple passed by. It was so rare that anyone saw Miss Makimachi with a male friend, and even less often witnessed that endearing happiness on her face, that he stared thoughtfully after them for some time after they disappeared into the waiting car.
She could not help staring across the table at him. Hoping that he did not notice, Misao snuck furtive glances at her handsome companion, silently memorizing the color of his eyes, the fall of his hair, the suggestive curve of his lips. She desperately wanted him to smile again.
He was doing much the same thing, just more discreetly.
"Aoshi," she began hesitantly, then relaxed when she saw him smile. "Did you really design this place?" She looked around with obvious admiration at the spacious, but crowded restaurant.
"Aa," he affirmed with modesty, making no move to boast. She had always loved that about him. "Of course, it was Okina's idea to begin with. I just provided a few suggestions."
"Hmm…just a few…suggestions?" Her face took on a skeptical expression as she glanced at her surroundings once more. "I doubt Jiya had the talent to come up with something like this." She grinned mischievously. "But I'm sure he'd take the credit readily."
He joined her laughter with a quiet chuckle. "Perhaps."
She suddenly became serious once more. "What made you want to become…an architect? I always thought your true love was of martial arts."
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke thoughtfully, "I think that they have many things in common. To begin with, I've always thought of both as…art. The edge of this window, or the curve of that balustrade," he motioned around him. "They are in many ways like the flash and gleam of a falling kodachi, don't you think? There's a sort of quiet beauty to both."
She nodded in agreement. "Now that you describe it, I do see the similarities. Both require a discerning eye and an inner balance." And both represent perfect grace and elegance, she added silently, noting once more the quiet strength of the man before her and the understated refinement of the restaurant he designed. "I understand your choice now, Aoshi."
She always could understand him. She was always the only one. But after seeing her furious, frightened response at Okina's party that night, Aoshi knew not to rush things. As long as he remained simply the friend from childhood days, Misao would trust him. So outwardly he displayed only friendly interest when he asked, "What about you, Misao? Why did you become a lawyer?"
She laughed lightheartedly. "Well…I did want that penthouse at the Ritz, and the convertible, and those pretty clothes and jewels…and the only talent I ever had was for argument. So it seemed like being the hotshot lawyer and making those millions was the perfect choice for me." Her face darkened momentarily. "I harbor no dreams or illusions, Aoshi." Not anymore.
He knew there was more…so much more. She loved facing challenges, loved the thrill of finding the perfect comeback. She lived for the deeper experiences life had to offer and never backed down from a cry for help. She had courage, and drive, and ambition. She dreamt big dreams and built wondrous castles in the air. She chased after rainbows as a child and, when they disappeared, simply set off in search of the next one. Her very existence served as inspiration for those around her. He knew all these things…and more. Yet it seemed as if she had buried them all away.
He wanted to tell her what he knew…wanted to see her find the old sparkle of self-confidence she had somehow lost. Was it because of him? he wondered with a pang of guilt.
But he hesitated too long, and the moment passed. The quick flash of pain in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a carefully guarded smile. She would not let him in so easily.
The rest of the dinner went by smoothly. They chatted about fond memories from childhood and adolescence…swapped funny anecdotes about amusing clients…shared some of their plans for the future. And secretly Misao marveled at the clear blue of his eyes and the way his face gradually softened as he talked, while Aoshi could not help reveling in the warmth of her smile and the alluring glow of candlelight upon her face. Before they knew it the clock read eleven p.m., and it was time to go.
A little of the old awkwardness returned when he brought her back to the apartment ~ neither knew what to say or do. Both were feeling vulnerable, having just slightly opened up from being so tightly closed for so many years. She extended her hand to him at the door, and he shook it rather formally, though not without warmth.
"Thank you…for tonight, Aoshi. I had a great time."
"I'm glad. Thank you for agreeing to come. You make great company, Misao." Then again, he'd always known that. An idea suddenly came to mind ~ a crazy, almost impossible idea. Almost. And he was just desperate, just reckless, just brave enough to take it. He took a silent breath…and prayed for the best.
"Misao…will you work with me?"
Her eyes widened in amazement. "What do you mean?"
Encouraged that she did not immediately refuse, Aoshi forged on. "Have you heard of the Yamada project?"
The top banking firm of Japan…wanting to open a D.C. firm…searching for architects…choosing…Aoshi. Her dazed mind snatched at the random facts, as if clinging to them would assure her some clarity, some calm. "Y-Yes." She hated the weakness of her voice. More boldly, "I read that they chose you to design their new complex here. Demo…what would that have to do with me?"
Please…please let this work. He needed her in his life again, in whatever form or fashion it took. "There's a lot more to architecture than just drawing the building." His lips quirked up in a wry smile. "Designing, and constructing, a new structure often entail massive legal actions ~ permits, contracts, ownership rights, the works. The Yamada firm does provide its own team of lawyers, of course, but it's always…safer…to have someone representing the architect's firm, too. To have someone on my-…our, side."
Why was he doing this? One minute they were just getting acquainted, and the next…partners? Then again, she had to admit the idea appealed to her. A lot.
She would never forget ~ or forgive ~ his leaving her. But maybe , maybe friendship was still possible. It deserved a chance, at least.
"Please, Misao." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm asking you…as a friend."
More than a chance, then. It ~ his friendship ~ was something she could never deny.
Her answering smile, brilliant with warmth and acceptance, was all the answer that he needed.
That night, in their dreams, Misao caught the rainbow. She was both laughing and crying. Laughing ~ for the sheer joy of finally reaching those beautiful, dazzling colors. Crying ~ because Aoshi was by her side.
And he was laughing too.