The first time he saw her again was two years after he left Japan. He was in London, in a coffee shop with Kaori, when he looked out the window and saw her, strolling, laughing through the streets, an arm curled around another man's.

It was strange to see her against the backdrop of the London traffic, and not the bustling streets of Tokyo. It was so jarring that George felt an odd sense of normality settle within him, like this was how all his future meetings with Yukari would look like, and he knew it.

He turned away, just in time to see the worried look on Kaori's face.


The next time he saw her was even more years later, in London Fashion Week. By now, he was convinced that fate had a delectable sense of irony – to bring them together in the city that made him consider moving to Paris in the first place.

She wasn't modeling, but she was sitting haughtily on the aisle, and he could almost hear the complain lacing her countenance: if only I was taller, I would be on that stage.

He would've walked away, but he was tired of doing so. Besides, he came for Kaori, whose models were strutting away on the runaway, and so he would stay for Kaori. Now, that didn't mean he needed to sit behind her, but he did anyway, because he was George.

He hadn't even taken another step when Yukari straightened up, as if she noticed something, and turned her head to face him. A smile had replaced her jealousy, and if George was to make out what her expression meant this time, it would be: You haven't changed George – I could still smell your cologne from miles away.


The third time they met was in an airport in, wait for it, London. George was transiting and Yukari was waiting for her delayed flight. She was sitting in one of those stiff airport chairs with minimum cushion, feet tapping against the carpeted floor in what could be interpreted as swaying to the beat of the music or impatience (George knew it was the latter) when a mop of turquoise hair rounded the corner and caused her to lift her gaze from the dull screen of her phone.

She thought, as she looked up, that she must be mistaken, that there was no way life would be kind enough to provide them a third meeting. She didn't know why she wasn't surprised then, when her eyes were drawn into blue like summer skies.

Her heart must've been expecting him.


The location of their fourth meeting was an anomaly. Yukari was in America, on honeymoon, watching a broad way musical after receiving the tickets from Isabella, who had actually sent it on George's request. But Yukari didn't know that, and George never planned on enlightening her to that fact.

They didn't exactly meet as well.

He was backstage, and he was only able to see her by peeping through a hole where several wooden planks weren't nailed properly together.

Yukari didn't even see him, but when the play started and the characters filled her world like bursts of colors, she didn't even need to see him to feel him all around her.

And maybe that was enough for them.


The bundle of gentlemanly smiles and one hand-carry bag plopped down beside her. Judging by how the bag jutted out in weird shapes, Yukari deduced that George was probably carrying fabric.

"Are you on vacation?" he asked.

A sudden thought entered her mind, but only for it to leave as quickly as it came: it was the funniest thing ever, how they had no need for polite and formal greetings.

Yukari nodded, "You too?"

He tapped the bag he had sat down beside him gently. "I was purchasing fabric."

Yukari was about to respond when an announcement in the typical, mechanical airport voice rang through the waiting room. It was (finally)a boarding call for her flight. But, as she stood up and gathered her things and stole a glance at George – who was looking at her with the intensity of his usual self – she thought the timing of her flight might've been a bit off.

The timing off her whole life might've been a bit off.

"Your plane?"

She hummed in agreement.

"Goodbye," he said. "You take care."

Yukari slung her bag over a shoulder and angled her suitcase so she could drag it. Then, when she was ready to leave, she turned around and said, a smile on her face, "Goodbye. You too."


George inclined his head at her, and she responded by allowing the smile to reach her eyes.

He took the seat behind hers'.

"Came to watch Kaori?" she shot out in an accusatory tone, like it was still wrong for him to do so even though they were no longer dating, and he was reminded once more of how much of a devil she was, and why they would never work out.

But then she said, "Me too," and George wondered if they might've had a chance, after all.


"George," Kaori started.

He didn't let her finish. "I'm fine," he said, smiling.

Outside, Yukari passed him by.

Note: For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to re-watch ParaKiss. I ended up re-reading the manga and, lol, STILL NOT A GOOD IDEA. Manga was so much better than the anime though, which makes it so much worse too because it's that much sadder. But yes, I needed to get feels out, obviously, and so this came to be. Hope you enjoyed!