A/N1: The response to my one-shot "How Many Kisses?" was unexpectedly positive, with several people wanting to hear more about this unusual couple. Since I had saved my early lengthy attempt at the story, I decided to restart, expand and continue it. Again, if you didn't like the first one, don't bother with this.

A/N2: I do not own Itazura na kiss. Frankly, I'm not even sure Tada-sensei would claim this iteration.

Society magazines billed it as the "Wedding of the Decade": the romantic story of attractive lovers who met when their family firms merged the year before. Gossip in the back rooms revealed another version, one that included the bridegroom being part of the deal, but talebearers made sure not to speak too loudly near Chairman Oizumi.

The bride was as exquisite as a ceramic doll, her make-up precisely applied and the embroidery on her gown reputedly the work of many thousands of hours. Her mother was also completely composed, a true Yamato nadeshiko. The only dissonance in the otherwise flawlessly orchestrated spectacular was the behavior of the groom's mother. Not content with discreetly wiping away a single tear during the ceremony (as did her counterpart), she soaked at least half a dozen handkerchiefs that had been stowed in her small evening bag. This human touch was made much of by the gossip rags; little did they know that her tears were not those of joy.

Aihara Kotoko was not in attendance. She and her father had moved out of the Irie home months before the final preparations were underway. Her room in their apartment became her refuge, and she spent more nights than she cared to remember in tears, crying herself to sleep. Finally, her friends Satomi and Jinko managed to drag her out. Although she had missed too many days of classes to pass that term's courses, they encouraged her to attend some of the meetings of their interest circles; Kotoko could no longer even look in the direction of the tennis courts. After a few such endeavors, she began refusing their invitations. It both depressed and shamed her to see her loyal friends so happy with their boyfriends. She was afraid that feelings of jealousy would seep through and did not want to make her friends further unhappy because of her.

Even Matsumoto searched her out. She first offered sympathy which evolved into bracing encouragement. A few days after the wedding—to which she had been invited—she showed up again. "Aihara, you must snap out of this. It is over and done with."

"How did he look?" Kotoko asked her softly.

"Like a mannequin from a department store. An extremely handsome one, to be sure," she added with a sigh, for she too had held dreams of a happily ever after with Naoki. "He showed no emotion whatsoever, and all she did was glow quietly. At least if it had been you, Aihara, the ceremony would have been lively."

"Yeah," Kotoko snorted despite herself. "I probably would have tripped going down the aisle!"

"That's more like it!" Matsumoto gave her a bracing slap between the shoulder blades. "Every laugh you make will heal you a little. So find what will make you happy and laugh, and get on with your life."

"Thank you, Matsumoto-san." Kotoko smiled up at her then laughed again. "Whoever thought that we would be talking like this two years ago?"

Kotoko took her advice to heart and began to vacate her room of tearful memories for hours at a time. Evenings she started making sporadic appearances at her father's restaurant, working as a server when needed. There was a rocky period of time rebuilding her friendship with Kinnosuke, his feelings still tender from her refusal of his marriage proposal. His abortive attempt to embrace her and her cry for Naoki had revealed to her that he was definitely not the one who could heal her heart. It took longer for the stubborn Osakan, but eventually he accepted that friendship was all she was offering.

The work helped, for the busy evenings left her no time for stray thoughts, and during slow periods her father's regular patrons engaged her in conversation. Having practically watched her grow up, their avuncular teasing gave her more reasons to smile. And if the smile faded whenever they suggested some son or nephew that she should date, no one mentioned it in front of her.

During the day she found it comforting to sit in a nearby park. There she could observe people from all walks of life: children with their parents or babysitters; youths playing with balls or disks; people walking or playing with their pets; college students holding philosophical discussions. After several weeks of watching others engaged in their daily activities, she sighed and decided it was time to visit the campus administrative offices.

Kotoko walked home through that same park with various pamphlets acquired from the guidance department. It was time for her to settle down and decide on a career, but her mind was muddled. All of her previous dreams of her employment future had been based on whatever she had thought might interest Naoki. Without that rudder to guide her, she felt set adrift. Thus distracted by trying to think and walk at the same time—never a smart move where she was concerned—she was oblivious to the rapid approach behind her until it was too late.

Oof! She lay spread-eagled on the ground, face down. "What bulldozer hit me?" she asked, raising her head. Immediately she felt like a vehicle in an automatic car wash. A large tongue smeared doggy saliva all over her face and surrounding areas. "Ew!"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! He got away from me—Kotoko?"

"Yuuki-kun?" she asked incredulously. "And—Chibi? Get away! That tickles!" She shoved at the massive head slobbering on her neck.

"That's right, you never did warm up to Chibi, did you?" he said while dragging the dog off her.

"I think he senses my fear and tries to torment me more." She rose, brushing herself off and wiping away the saliva, keeping herself well distant of the panting, eager canine.

"Here," he bent down, "let me pick up your papers." He gathered the scattered brochures as he scolded the dog. "Bad Chibi! How many times have I told you to not knock people over?"

"For me, probably never!" Kotoko grinned at him. "You always thought it was pretty funny whenever he did that. Come to think of it," she placed a finger under her chin, "it probably looked that way."

Yuuki stared at her then blinked. "Yeah, it did. But it wasn't too nice of me to laugh."

"Don't be silly." She waved off his semi-apology. "I know I'm a klutz from a long time ago. Come on, sit down with me for a few minutes so I can catch my breath."

He complied and handed her the straightened papers, all corners perfectly aligned. "Stay, Chibi!" he commanded, then fell silent, not sure what conversational topics were appropriate for this meeting.

Kotoko also appeared at a loss for words. She tucked hair that had been loosened by the St. Bernard's greeting back under the band then took a deep breath and turned to him. "So, how are Obasama and Irie-sama?"

Yuuki played with the dog's leash. "They're doing...well, I suppose. Mom is trying hard to get along with Sahoko-san and Dad is restless now that he's cleared to go back to work. Of course, with Onii-chan in the office, there's not that much room for two bosses. Three, if you count Oizumi-sama, and you definitely have to count him."

"Yes," Kotoko sighed and leaned back, hugging her knees to her chest. "I miss them, but I know that I would be in the way if I tried to see them. It might make it more difficult for Sahoko-san. But," she turned to him with a cheery smile, "that doesn't apply to you, now does it?"

"Me?" He looked startled. "No, I guess not."

"So," she patted him on the shoulder, "drop by Dad's restaurant some evening. I'll treat you to a meal."

"Any particular time?" he asked after a pause.

"No. I'm usually there. I'm waitressing, earning tips for next term." She waved the papers at him.

He nodded. "I just might do that."