It was funny, Doujima reflected as she took a sip of her sake later that night. Funny what could trigger a memory, even of something you'd thought buried or forgotten.
She'd been down in the Village, stopping for a well-deserved cup of java before heading back uptown when a piece of her past walked in the door. There shouldn't have been anything memorable about him. He was just your prototypical urban geek, all baggy cargos and sleek laptop. Except, there was something about the way he carried himself, slouching over to a quiet table in the corner—just another kid, another nerd from Cooper Union. Except that when she saw him, she felt herself transported back across years, and thousands of miles to a workspace crammed full of equipment. A place where she watched the light from a screen reflected in amber lenses.
She'd felt a cold chill come over her then, one she hadn't been able to shake all day and that she was trying to push away now with the heated wine. Not guilt, not regret, but a sort of emptiness that only came when she thought about the role she'd had to play in that place and time.
She took another sip, and pushed away the memories of amber.