(Five Years Later)

When the door chime sounded, Mashiro looked up in surprise from her painting and stuck her head out of the studio. "Sorata, who is that?"

Sorata face-faulted. "It's Jin and Misaki and Ayako. Did you forget they were coming over?"

"Oh, no, I did," she said calmly. "Let them in, I'll go wash the paint off my hands." She disappeared back into the studio.

Sorata sighed good-naturedly and went to the front door. It was indeed Jin and Misaki and their two-year-old little girl, Ayako. "Kouhai-kun!" Misaki greeted enthusiastically. "Nice to see ya!"

"Yo," Jin said. Ayako waved at him too but said nothing.

"Please come in," Sorata said, stepping back to give them room.

Misaki took Ayako's hand and the two of them darted in. "Let's go find Big Sis Mashiron," Misaki said to her daughter. Ayako echoed the same phrase, and the two of them were off.

Jin shut the apartment door behind him and handed a six-pack of beer to Sorata. "I'm sure you'll need this later," he said.

"Your family isn't that intense," Sorata said, taking the proffered gift.

"Give them time," Jin said with a wink.

It wasn't uncommon banter for them. Jin, Misaki, and Ayako were frequent visitors at Sorata and Mashiro's place. The two couples went on the occasional double-date, and Mashiro would babysit Ayako from time to time. She wasn't the most involved of sitters, she would usually just draw manga while the little girl played, but she'd do fun drawings with Ayako and usually didn't forget to feed her.

Jin and Sorata made their way into the living room. The three girls were in the studio, and it sounded like Mashiro was talking about her latest painting to her guests. "Mashiro never stops drawing and painting, does she?" Jin said as they both found places to sit.

"Is Misaki any different with her anime characters?" Sorata said, smiling.

"Nope," Jin says. "Even while taking care of Ayako she still draws at a frantic pace. I don't know how she does it. She's an amazing woman."

Sorata smiled. Everyone from Sakura-sou had breathed a private sigh of relief when Jin had found a job that made him decide his 'chased dream' was now 'caught' and he'd settled down with Misaki.

"How about you, kouhai?" Jin said. "How's the gaming business?"

Sorata shrugged. "Slow, honestly. I did manage to sell that one design I mentioned to you last time we talked, but not much has happened since then. I'm happy to be a video game designer, but it can be scary that there's so much uncertainly with such a job." Seeing a small look of concern on Jin's face, he said, "Mashiro's manga and fine art sales keep us going just fine, but I might almost have to call myself a 'kept man' right now." He rubbed the back of his head a tad sheepishly.

"It's not so bad," Jin said with a knowing smile.

The girls emerged from the studio. Mashiro was carrying Ayako like a cat, adult arms under child arms, Ayako pressed against Mashiro's chest facing outwards, her feet dangling. Just like a cat, she had a somewhat nonplussed look on her face, but bore the indignity in silence. Misaki came over and sat next to Jin, flashing him a loving smile before holding out her arms and receiving Ayako from Mashiro. Mashiro came at sat next to Sorata, leaning against his shoulder.

"Your pet-girl continues to amaze with her painting, kouhai-kun," Misaki said, settling her daughter onto her lap.

"She amazes everyone," Sorata said proudly. "There's an upscale art gallery in the city that is putting together an exhibition featuring Mashiro's work!"

"That's so cool!" Misaki said. "Congrats, Mashiron!"

"Thank you."

"Yeah, and they're doing a gala to kick it all off," Sorata said. "Sounds like it's going to be super fancy. I get to come with Mashrio, and they told me I have to wear a tuxedo and everything."

"I thought you were doing more manga these days though, Shiina-san," Jin said. "I see your latest series everywhere."

"The paintings sell more overseas than in Japan," Mashiro said. "I'm working on a commission for someone in England right now."

"Speaking of England," Misaki said, "have you heard from Rita-chan lately?"

"Sure, we talk all the time," Mashiro said.

The conversation meandered on. After a little while, Mashiro brought out some desserts she had made. Ayako's opinion of them was not that positive, which drew laughter from everyone. They all played some games, and after a while Jin and Misaki took Ayako home. Sorata made sure to ask Jin where a good place to get a tuxedo was: the gala was coming up soon!

The night of the gala, the gallery sent over a limo to pick them up. As soon as it showed up, Sorata found himself getting really nervous. He didn't really know what to expect from all of this. When they arrived at the location, he was relieved to see that the crowds outside were not large, nor was there a lot of journalists taking pictures. As he walked around to Mashiro's side of the limo to open her door, he tugged a little uncomfortably at his black tie. It was his first time wearing a tuxedo, and it was making him glad that video game offices usually didn't require suits.

All those thoughts vanished from his mind though as Mashiro stepped out. He'd been so nervous he hadn't really stopped to look at her after she finished getting ready or when they were in the limo. Which was downright criminal of him, because Mashiro was gorgeous. She was wearing a pink dress and had a white flower in her hair. She was always beautiful, but tonight was above and beyond. For a moment he just stared, stunned at how lucky he was.

Mashiro took his hand as she stood up from the limo, her low heels crunching a little bit on the pavement. Sorata shut the door and the limo drove away. Mashiro looked up at the gallery. "It's bigger than I remember," she said.

Sorata smiled and led her up to the steps. As they reached them, a few journalists approached them. A lady who looked around 40 years old was the first in line. "Good evening! You are Mashiro Shiina, aren't you?"

Mashiro stopped and turned to them, folding her hands modestly in front of her. "Yes."

"It's a pleasure to see you here tonight! We look forward to this exhibition of your work, and the work of other talented young Japanese artists."

"Thank you."

"And who is this accompanying you?"

Mashiro turned slightly towards Sorata. "This is my owner, Sorata."

Sorata sighed in exasperation. "Mashiro..."

The journalist blinked in confusion. "Your ... owner?"

"I'm her boyfriend," Sorata said, giving his girlfriend a little stink-eye. Mashiro looked back at him as he spoke. "The 'owner' thing is just a joke we have. When Mashiro gets very involved in her work she sometimes forgets to do things like eat or sleep so I have to help her with those things and so we joke that she's like my pet cat."

Mashiro turned back to the reporter. "That's right. I'm his pet girl."

The journalist laughed gently. "Ah, I see. That's actually kind of sweet."

Sorata turned to Mashiro and smiled. "Yeah."

"Sorry, Sorata-san, your full name for the article?"

"Ah, forgive me. Sorata Kanda. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too. Are you also an artist?"

"No, I'm a video game designer."

"Ah, how wonderful." The journalist turned slightly back to Mashiro. "Mashiro-san, how long have you and Kanda-san been together?"

"Five years," she said.

"Ah, so you've been together since high school?"

Mashiro nodded. "We lived together at Suimei."

"She means we lived in the same dormitory," Sorata hastened to amend.

The journalist chuckled. "You two seem to have a wonderful relationship."

Mashiro nodded again. "Yes. Sorata is the best."

Sorata smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Thank you for saying so."

The journalists asked Mashiro a couple of questions about her paintings, and then the group moved on to other guests. Once they were free, Mashiro and Sorata made their way up the building's front steps and entered the gallery.

There were hundreds of paintings in the gallery from dozens of artists, so they could have spent days looking at them all. Mashiro passed some of them by with little notice, but others she would stop and stare at for what seemed like hours, fascinated. Sorata sometimes wandered over to adjacent displays while she did, but made sure to keep her in his sights; when she would come out of her trance, she would immediately look around for him. So he made sure he could wave to her so she'd know right away where he was.

Other journalists stopped them and talked to Mashiro from time to time, though no one really took any further notice of Sorata, which was fine by him. The only exception to this came late in the evening, as they came to view a painting that was tucked away in a corner near the back of the show.

Mashiro had been transfixed by a different painting, and now came over to where Sorata was standing. He was gazing up at this secluded painting with a wistful smile. Mashiro followed his gaze, and realized the reason for his smile. It was the painting she had made of all of them out in front of Sakura-sou, with Sorata and Hikari front and center.

"It's probably a little self-centered to say since I'm in it," Sorata said, "but this is my favorite painting of yours."

"What about the nude of myself I painted for you?"

Sorata blushed. "My favorite painting of yours that we can display in public."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then they heard someone clear their throat next to them. "Excuse me, Shiina-san?"

It was another journalist; this man was probably about 50 years old, and looked a bit tired. He named the publication he was with and then said, "Could I ask you about this painting, Shiina-san?"

"Yes," Mashiro said, turning more fully to face him.

"This painting, like all your others, shows quite vibrant use of color and space," the man said, "but it is unique because it is not a landscape and features people as well as buildings. I'm curious, what is different about this painting for you? Why did you make it so different from your others?"

Sorata felt a tad chagrined that he hadn't really noticed that about Mashiro's work before, and thought the old man had a sharper eye for art than most. It was easily the most insightful question Mashiro had been asked tonight.

If Mashiro was thrown or impressed by the change of pace though she didn't show it. "This is one of the few paintings I made just for myself," she replied.

The journalist cocked his head slightly. "Do you mean that you typically paint for others and not what you want?"

"No," Mashiro said unflappably, "that's not quite what I mean.

"A painting in a conversation between the artist and the viewer. If the artists paints only what has meaning to her, she is just talking to herself. She is being selfish. So when I paint, I think about what I want to say to the people who will see my paintings. Not everyone will like it, but everyone should be able to hear it." She turned and gestured to the painting of Sakura-sou. "With this painting, I broke that rule. It is a painting just for the people in it, for my dear friends from Sakura-sou."

"Ah, so this is you and your friends?"

"That's right. I told the gallery I didn't think this painting should be in the show because it was so personal, but they said it was too nice to be left out."

"For what it's worth, I think they were right," Sorata said to Mashiro.

The journalist looked at them for a minute, then said, "You know, I'm still friends with my roommate from college. We still get together on holidays, and our sons are friends too. It's been thirty years, but he's still a dear friend of mine." He gestured to the painting for emphasis.

"Wow, that's impressive to be friends for so long," Sorata said. He turned to his girlfriend. "You see, Mashiro? Even if no-one knows about Sakura-sou and our friends, this painting will still touch their emotions."

Mashiro gazed up at it, processing this new information. "I understand," she said. She turned to the journalist. "Thank you so much."

The old man smiled kindly. "You have a nice evening, Shiina-san; and you too, young man."

Before too much longer it was time for the gala to end and people began to make their way out of the gallery. The limo came back and picked up Mashiro and Sorata and they sat together as it took them along the busy city streets. They both gazed out at the lights, their feet and eyes a little tired but their spirits happy and clear.

At one point, Sorata chuckled to himself, then looked at Mashiro. "I keep thinking of the look on that reporter's face when you called me your owner," he grinned. "You're so weird, Mashi-chan."

Mashiro looked at him, then dropped her gaze. "Do I embarrass you?"

Sorata sat up straighter. "No! I like that you're weird." He smiled affectionately. "Life with you is never boring."

Mashiro lifted her head a little, still avoiding his direct gaze. "Are you only with me because I'm weird?"

"Of course not! You're beautiful, and talented, and we work hard together, and support each other!"

Mashiro looked at Sorata now, and smiled. "Good."

Sorata sighed. "What brought that on?"

"Five years is a long time to date someone," Mashiro said. "I just wanted to make sure you were happy."

Sorata took Mashiro's hand. "I am. Are you, Mashiro?"

She made her hands into little kitten paw-fists. "Sorata-san is a very good owner."

Sorata smiled. "I'm glad."

Mashiro nodded, then leaned forward and kissed him. They held hands the rest of the way home, and when they were alone in their apartment that night, they both made each other very happy.