Fallen Blossoms

Part I ~ Ghosts of Fallen Blossoms

Chapter 1 ~ Unexpected Guests

The taxi rushed through Georgetown, its bright lights and crowded streets a blur through the windows. The girl in the backseat looked out anxiously at the passing scenery, one foot tapping impatiently while struggling to remain composed. She did not want to hurry the driver; after all, it was her own fault that she was late. But…

Jiya is going to be furious! thought Makimachi Misao. She leaned forward in her seat, and said as calmly and courteously as possible, "Please, could you go a little faster? I'm very late and," she added with a soft laugh, "in a lot of trouble."

Very few people could resist Makimachi Misao when she chose to be persuasive. The driver was not one of them; charmed by her sweet request, he nodded once and stepped harder on the gas pedal. "No problem miss. I'll get you there as soon as I can."

"Thank you," she breathed gratefully, relaxing slightly in her seat. Jiya was going to be angry that she was late, especially for the opening of his new restaurant, but it was nothing that a kiss ~ and a hug ~ couldn't fix…although she still winced from thinking of his famously fierce bear hugs. She laughed again to herself at the thought of Jiya running a restaurant. The former director of the District of Columbia's martial arts school, the revered kempo master and guardian of the sole heir to the Makimachi family legacy, the darling of the D.C. social scene…and now a restaurateur in a chef's apron? Of course, Okina's star had faded since his adopted granddaughter had come of age, but still…one expected him to be sipping champagne and charming pretty women, not managing a business. But when the old man set his mind to something, he usually accomplished it, and quite successfully. Tonight was his opening night, and he was hosting a glittering soiree with all of Washington's high society in attendance. He would not want Misao to be late.

She sighed, anxious once more. Jiya was the closest person to her in the world. She would not want to ever upset or worry him.

"Here we are, miss!" the driver called cheerfully. The taxi had come to a stop, and a handsomely dressed man had already come forward to open the door. Misao hurriedly paid ~ adding a big tip which brought a smile to the driver's face ~ and stepped out. The restaurant was in the heart of D.C., and tonight it blazed with glittering lights and was garlanded with crimson ribbons. The building itself was built in the traditional Japanese style, and thus beribboned resembled a perfect doll-house she had seen and much admired as a child. A large sign hung above the door, on which was written with bold calligraphic strokes on a gold-flecked background "The Aoiya." Okina had once told her that an ancestor of his from the Meiji era had operated a restaurant of the same name, and proceeded to boast of its having the reputation of being the best in all of Kyoto. She had not paid him much attention then, the words Meiji and Kyoto sounding strange and unfamiliar on her tongue, a part of a long-forgotten Japanese heritage that she was just now beginning to fully appreciate. Tonight, the restaurant looked lovely and inviting. Her eyes shining and wide with wonder, she smiled at what would obviously become another of Jiya's many triumphs here in D.C.

The man who opened the door for her was just as delighted, but he was not thinking about the restaurant. Instead he gazed admiringly at the gorgeous creature for whom he had the honor of welcoming.

She was a slender, virginal young thing. One slim leg, slightly tanned a golden-brown, had stepped out from the car when the door opened and revealed shapely calves and dainty crystal-clad feet. She wore a smooth, flowing gown of shining white silk, bias-cut and hugging just the right places. The dress was held in place with thin silk ties fastened behind her throat, and no jewelry marred the exquisite swan's neck with its alluring dip in the center of her collarbone. Her shoulders were bare against the cool March wind, but she seemed not to notice and stood straight and walked gracefully. Her dark hair was pulled back into an elegant chignon, with silk and crystal flowers entwined in its shining masses. Bright blue eyes shone from a small, delicate face. She inclined her head towards the porter and murmured a word of thanks, then rushed away into the restaurant. Feeling immediately bereft, the man stared breathlessly after her and cleanly forgot about the next car.

Completely oblivious as always to the reactions she elicited, Misao hurried through the doors into the wide foyer to look for her old caretaker and adopted grandfather. The foyer opened into a grand hall, which had been cleared to become a ballroom for the night. It was artfully decorated with garlands of fresh flowers and silk ribbon, and the champagne glasses glittered brightly in the light of the crystal chandeliers. The restaurant may have looked Japanese from the outside, but here within it certainly catered to Western tastes. Finally, she spotted Okina, laughing and chatting up a group of very pleased ladies. Still the same Jiya, she thought ruefully. Always going after the girls. He seemed to have felt her glance upon him, for he suddenly turned and looked straight in her direction. Ashamed of her tardiness, Misao was almost afraid to meet his gaze, but she saw only joyful recognition as he bounded excitedly towards her like a little boy.

"My pretty Misao!" he yelled happily, making her blush as guests turned to look her way. "You're finally here!" In a moment she was grasped in his embrace. "I'm so glad you could make it," he said loudly, before his grip tightened into a familiar bear hug. "And," he added quietly with a low chuckle, "customarily making your big entrance."

Misao struggled vainly against his vice-like grip. "Jiya!" she managed to gasp. "Breathing is becoming difficult!"

He finally let go, a mischievous grin on his face. "That should teach you never to be late again."

"I'm sorry, truly. I was caught up in a case and…"

"Don't tell me about it," he interrupted, with a dismissive wave. "For one night forget you're a workaholic and have some fun."

"I will," she answered gratefully. She glanced around at the laughing, happily flushed crowd. "Your party is a success, Jiya ~ everyone loves the restaurant. And it's gorgeous," this time looking at the vaulted ceiling and gleaming wood paneling. She leaned forward impulsively to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

He smiled sheepishly. "Well…it did take a lot of work, and most of the credit goes to the architect. He was the one who suggested the Japanese style building and Western interior…" he trailed off, then exclaimed abruptly, "Well! Here are some more guests to be greeted! Arigatou for the champagne flutes, my dear. I would never have remembered to buy them for the party. Now, go on and have fun! Maybe you'll finally meet your future husband!"

"Jiya!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "Stop playing matchmaker and let me enjoy myself in peace!" She turned away, and called breezily over her shoulder, "Enjoy the rest of the night!"

He grinned gamely at her until she disappeared into the crowd. What must the boys all be thinking nowadays, he thought with possessive pride, to let a beauty like that stay free and unattached? Misao had always been independent, but still…she was stunning enough to stop a man dead in his tracks. Through the years she'd had very few boyfriends, and lately whoever dared to venture into her personal life had been snubbed immediately and mercilessly. She was as warm and loving as always toward her family and close friends, but in the romance department, she had acquired the reputation of being icy and unapproachable. Okina shook his head in confusion ~ his pretty little Misao had used to be friendly and enthusiastic towards anyone and everyone, but now, ever since…his smile disappeared, replaced by a look of worry and concern. She would find out soon that he was here tonight, that indeed, he had been the ambitious and talented young architect who designed the Aoiya. Did he know that she would be here as well? It would be their first meeting in many years. She had never spoken of him after he had left…and he'd requested that Okina keep his identity a secret as well. But soon, eventually, they would meet again.

Makimachi Misao…and Shinomori Aoshi.

[Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own any of the characters.]