one-shot; seeing you in this light
pairing: aizawa kōsaku/shiraishi megumi
word count: 3555 words
note: okay, seriously one of the most cliché plots ever (and I've already written a nearly identical one for my other fandom hahah) but I feel like writing something overly fluffy that ends well, after writing like a load of angst yesterday. So I'm running with it and I hope you will, too.

Shiraishi examined the envelope in her hands, turning it over twice before opening it carefully. She took out a thick, embossed card in shades of cream, and a slip of paper. She read the card first – it was a wedding invitation addressed to her mother, for her cousin's wedding. She also received the same invitation, of course, but she had declined because she felt that she couldn't get away from work. In addition to that, her mother had assured her that she would be attending, hence there would be one representative from their family, and it wouldn't matter if Shiraishi missed the wedding.

However, it looked like as if her mother was reneging on that promise.

Dearest Megumi, her mother wrote.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to attend Akari's wedding this weekend. Naoji sprained his back and had to remain bedridden for a week, so I would need to take care of him. Can you please represent our family? And if you want to, bring a friend with you, as the invitation is for two.

Take care of yourself, and please come home for a visit when you are able to. I know you're very busy but I miss you, Megumi.

With love and fondness,
Kaa-chan.

Sighing, Shiraishi folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. She picked up the embossed invitation, twirling it between her fingers. I supposed it couldn't be helped…I'm sure Naoji-san didn't want to sprain his back, and of course Kaa-chan had to take care of him.

Her father's passing six years ago had been hard on the family, but especially for her mother. It wasn't easy to lose a husband of thirty years. It was a long process of grieving, but eventually, time healed all wounds. Her mother had then met Naoji-san, himself a widower, at a garden party two years ago, and they had instantly formed a connection. And she was glad that her mother had found a companion, truth be told, as it lessened her own guilt of not being able to spend as much time with her mother as she would've liked.

Shiraishi gave an involuntary wince as she thought about the wedding. She liked Akari fine, and got along well with her cousin, but Akari's mother – her aunt – was another matter completely. Surumi baa-san was an overbearing, pompous and intrusive woman who made it her business to know everyone's business, and not in a polite way either.

"Well, what's this?" Shiraishi was broken out of her reverie as Hiyama passed by, and pluck the card out of her fingers. Leaning against the table, she read the card, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, a wedding."

"One that I am not looking forward to." Shiraishi took the card back from her, and put it aside.

"Oh, why's that? The bridegroom is your ex? You hate the bride?" Hiyama teased.

"None of the above. It's just my aunt. I can already imagine it; she'd be hounding me all night on the fact that I'm not married. And it isn't just her. I have a lot of nosy relatives."

"Nosier than Fujikawa?"

"Excuse me!?" Fujikawa's voice sounded out from the other end of the room.

Shiraishi laughed, shaking her head. "Oh well, it's not like I have much of a choice. I just hope it will be short and painless."

Hiyama snapped her fingers. "Wait. I have the solution. Just bring someone with you. A man. That'll stop all the nonsense."

Shiraishi stared at her. "But I don't have a man. I mean, a boyfriend."

Her housemate sighed. "Shiraishi, Shiraishi, my totally oblivious friend. You just need a man to pose as your boyfriend for the night, and the busybodies will leave you alone."

"What? But that's…"

"That's a completely brilliant idea, I know, you don't need to thank me." Hiyama preened, and then yelled across the room. "Hey, Fujikawa! Are you free this Saturday? Shiraishi needs a date."

Fujikawa's head appeared over the rack of books as he stood up. "No way. I am completely loyal to Haruka, I will not do anything to betray her trust in…"

"Yeah, no, Fujikawa wouldn't work. Too nerdy, and too short. No one would believe it," Hiyama cut off Fujikawa's passionate declaration with a wave of her hand.

"Hiyama!" Shiraishi shot a sympathetic look at the annoyed Fujikawa.

"Well, that leaves Aizawa," Hiyama surmised, tapping her pen against her teeth.

At the sound of his name, he looked up from where he was sitting, his face impassive as usual. "What is it?"

Hiyama flicked a piece of paper at him, scoffing. "Don't pretend you weren't listening in on the entire conversation. So? Will you do Shiraishi the favour?"

Aizawa's gaze shifted towards an embarrassed Shiraishi, and back to the grinning Hiyama. "Hn," he said, and shifted his attention back to his laptop.

"Aizawa!" Hiyama said impatiently. "Is that a yes?"

The neurosurgeon inclined his head slightly but said nothing, as he continued typing. Hiyama made a disgruntled noise of dissatisfaction, and turned to Shiraishi. "It's okay, Shiraishi. I'll find you someone. I think Shinkai-sensei would be very happy to lend a hand…"

"I'll do it," Aizawa interjected, eyes still fixed on his laptop screen.

Shiraishi looked at him sheepishly. "Eh, Aizawa, please don't feel like you have to…"

"I said I'll do it," he said calmly. "Unless you don't want me to."

"No, of course I want you to…errr…I mean, I am very grateful..." She was stumbling over her words, and then she cleared her throat, collecting herself. "Thank you, Aizawa."

"Just let me know the details," he said, standing up and closing the lid of his laptop. Grabbing his stethoscope, he walked out of the office, heading into Emergency. Shiraishi's eyes followed him on his way out.

"I can't believe he said yes to this stunt," she muttered, still staring after him.

Hiyama snickered to herself quietly. Well, I can.

Shiraishi fastened an earring to her ear, and took a step back, looking into the mirror. Satisfied, she brushed her hair and smoothed down her dress. Slicking on a coat of lipstick, she picked up her shawl and her clutch and walked out to the living room.

Hiyama had made herself comfortable on the couch, with take-out containers cluttering the coffee table. She looked up from her magazine as she heard Shiraishi, one eyebrow raised, as she evaluated her housemate's appearance. She had to admit, Shiraishi looked beautiful. Her make-up was light and subtle, highlighting her eyes, and the new dress she bought at Hiyama's insistence fitted her nicely in all the right places.

"Pass," she proclaimed, grinning, as Shiraishi gave her a look. Retrieving a pair of heels from their box, Shiraishi grimaced at the strappy sandals with three-inch heels.

"My feet are going to undergo death by torture by the end of the night," she sighed, putting them on.

"You'll be fine," Hiyama yawned and stretched, tossing aside her magazine. "Now, you know what an awful liar you are, so just introduce Aizawa as your boyfriend, and nod and smile to everything else."

Shiraishi shot her a look, and was about to say something when the doorbell rang.

"Ooooh, your date is here!" Hiyama sang, grinning, as Shiraishi sighed. She opened the door, and Aizawa was standing outside, dressed in a suit and tie. Shiraishi couldn't help, but stare at him for longer than necessary.

She had never really seen him in anything else other than medical scrubs, the flight doctor's uniform, or T-shirts and jeans, on his off days. Oh, she had seen him a few times in ironed shirts and slacks, when they attended conferences together, but never a suit. Aizawa's suit fitted him impeccably, hugging his broad shoulders, and his dark-blue patterned tie matched his light blue dress shirt perfectly.

She was starting to understand why half the female doctors and nurses in the hospital made random and irrelevant visits to Emergency all the time.

"Shiraishi? Are you ready?"

She blinked, and came to. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I was spacing out. Yes, I'm ready to go." She turned to Hiyama. "Don't wait up if you can't."

"I won't," Hiyama smirked, and Shiraishi wondered what was that smirk for.

"It's a Western-style wedding," Shiraishi explained as they walked into the foyer of The Hilton in Tokyo. "Akari's husband is Australian, so they opted to have a Japanese ceremony in the morning, and a sit-down dinner as the wedding banquet."

"I see," he said, walking beside her, and then Shiraishi opened her clutch, rummaging in it to retrieve the invitation. "Aizawa, wait, I need to get the invitation out."

He looked at her steadily. "Kōsaku."

"Eh?" A questioning expression came over her face as she paused in mid-search.

"Call me Kōsaku," he said. "It makes more sense, doesn't it?"

"Oh," she said, understanding. "Yes, that definitely does. So…" she coughed a little. "I supposed you should call me by my first name, too."

He nodded, as they both approached the ballroom. The bride and groom, and their parents were all standing outside, smiling as they received guests. As she was about to walk ahead, invitation in one hand, he reached out, and took her other hand, his fingers folding around hers.

Startled, she turned to look at him. The right corner of his mouth curved slightly, as he leaned closer to her, murmuring in her ear. "If we're going to do this, then let's do it right, from the beginning."

Ever the perfectionist, Aizawa Kōsaku, she thought, as a laugh escaped her, and she nodded at him. "Okay."

For some reason, his fingers tightened around hers, and Shiraishi was surprised to feel a jolt of electricity shooting through her.

"Congratulations, Akari," Shiraishi said sincerely, hugging her cousin, as Aizawa shook the hand of the husband politely. "I wish you and Jonathan a lifetime of happiness."

"Megumi!" Her aunt brayed loudly beside Akari. "Well, look at you! Finally, you look like a woman! I have always told you, you should take more care in your appearance!"

She forced a smile, and hugged her aunt. "It's good to see you, Surumi baa-san. Congratulations."

"And who is this young man? My my, will wonders never ceased! Did our Megumi finally managed to get herself a man? And such a handsome one at that?" Surumi eyed Aizawa up and down, making him decidedly uncomfortable. Shiraishi, on the other hand, was looking extremely ill at ease with her aunt's performance.

Aizawa bowed to her politely. "Shiraishi-san. It's an honor to meet you. My name is Aizawa." Straightening himself, he slipped his arm around Shiraishi's waist, and pulled her close to his side, meeting the woman's gaze unflinchingly.

"Well, well, Megumi! I can't believe it! Even an ugly duckling like you is able to snag a…"

"Kaa-san," Akari broke in calmly. "There are other guests waiting. We should let Megumi and Aizawa-san take their seats."

Shiraishi sent her cousin a quick look of thanks as she smiled wryly back in obvious apology. As they walked towards their table, she murmured an apology to Aizawa. "I'm sorry, but that is the way she behaves, all the time."

Aizawa snorted. "No wonder you needed someone with you tonight. I imagine it would be torture facing that by yourself."

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug, and then looked at him with a smile. "Thank you for doing this...Kōsaku."

He didn't smile back, but the expression on his face was soft, and his arm tightened around her waist. "It's okay."

Between courses, Surumi accosted Shiraishi and Aizawa again. Sitting down on the chair vacated temporarily by another guest, she grabbed Shiraishi's hands. "I am soooo happy for you!" She screeched. "Your poor mother, I know she was so worried that you'll be an old maid forever, although she never said it out loud. And I told her, well, if Megumi would look at something else besides all those medical books, and actually put on some make-up…"

Shiraishi's face was redder than a tomato as her aunt prattled on and on. Aizawa looked at the woman, barely able to conceal his distaste. But this woman was Shiraishi's family, and he had to be on his best behaviour.

"So, what does your boyfriend work as, Megumi?"

Shiraishi forced a smile on her face, trying to look pleasant. "Kōsaku is a neurosurgeon, Baa-san. We worked together at Shohoku's Lifesaving Centre."

"Ahh, an office romance! Who would've thought that little Megumi will embark on an office affair?" She let out a loud laugh, and Shiraishi felt like she wanted to dig a hole to China and fall in. Under the table, she felt Aizawa's hand on her leg, just above her knee, patting her briefly in a gesture of comfort. Surprised, she looked at him, and he nodded at her imperceptibly, and somehow, Shiraishi felt reassured.

Surumi then turned her attention to the unfortunate Aizawa. "So tell me, Aizawa-san! It's easy to see why Megumi chose you, but what attracted a man of your good looks and your caliber to our plain and boring Megumi?"

Aizawa cleared his throat. "Megumi is neither plain nor boring."

She chortled loudly. "Oh, but she is! Even as a child, she would be the one the boys ignored. Now my Akari, she was the light of every party, but Megumi here was the plainest little wallflower. But who would've thought, she certainly got lucky now!" She shook her head, still chuckling.

"Megumi is a strong, determined woman, and a wonderfully compassionate doctor," Aizawa said evenly, taking Shiraishi's hand in his as he looked at Surumi squarely. "She devotes all her time and energy to saving lives, and treats every patient with utmost care and respect. She is dedicated, kind and giving." He turned to Shiraishi, and squeezed her hand. "She inspires me to be a better doctor. I'm the lucky one, not her."

Even though she knew that those were words were probably part of their whole cloak and dagger plan, still, Shiraishi's heart was thudding wildly as she looked at Aizawa.

"Well!" Surumi sniffed, evidently dissatisfied with the response she was getting, unhappy that she wasn't able to put down her niece any longer. "I should get back to the other guests. Megumi, do come and talk to me before you leave," she said, sweeping away ungracefully.

Shiraishi exhaled deeply as she left, feeling her tense shoulders relaxing. Aizawa let go of her hand and picked up his wineglass. "That was awful," she shuddered.

He sipped his wine. "I can't disagree to that."

"That was some pretty good improvisation there," she nudged his shoulder with hers. "You certainly managed to get rid of her…I was afraid that she wasn't going to leave before getting a…"

"Megumi," he interrupted, putting down his wineglass. "That wasn't exactly improvisation."

"Eh?"

He was about to say more when Akari appeared beside them, grabbing Shiraishi's hand, her face flushed with alcohol and happiness. "Come on, you two! Don't just sit there! Join us on the dance floor!"

They were both shoved onto the dance floor by an enthusiastic Akari, where the band was playing a jazzy, upbeat tune that had everyone swinging and swaying to the music. Aizawa looked around him with barely disguised horror. He couldn't dance; he refused to dance. Shiraishi, on her part, had started some kind of awkward shuffle in an attempt to humour her cousin.

"Really?" He asked, staring at her, as he remained motionless. He suddenly had this urge to laugh at her, clamping it down just in time.

"Shut up," she muttered, and then bumped his hip hard. "Just…let's get this over and done with."

He gritted his teeth, and had taken one step, when to his immense relief, the music came to an end. He was all ready to run off the dance floor when the band started up again, in a slow, lilting tune that was obviously meant to be a slow dance. Not that it mattered, he was still determined to leave, until he caught Surumi sitting at a nearby table, chatting to someone, but her eyes were sweeping all around the dance floor, and when she saw him, she gave him a big, phony smile.

Shiraishi was close behind him, equally eager to get off the dance floor, and collided into his back when he came to a sudden stop. He turned around to face her. "Your aunt is watching us."

Her shoulders sagged as she moaned softly.

"Come on," he murmured, taking a step nearer to her, bridging the gap between their bodies. He curved an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Hesitantly, she placed her hands lightly on his shoulders.

"I don't know how to dance," she hissed into his ear.

"Neither do I," he muttered, casting a glance at all the other couples around them, all them looking comfortable and evidently knowing what they were doing. "We'll just...move around."

Her high heels had allowed her to look at Aizawa almost eye-to-eye as they moved, and suddenly, she felt a little unnerved by the way he was looking at her, his gaze almost electrifying. She averted her gaze after a while, but her grip on his shoulders tightened a little.

They didn't say a word as they moved to the music, and after a few moments, she began to get used to their proximity, and she relaxed her stance. Her hands on his shoulders moved to lace themselves together, encircling his neck, as she leaned a little closer to him. His hand on her waist dropped a little lower to the curve her hip, caressing her gently. She was so close that she was able to breathe in his scent, and it was a scent she was familiar with.

It wasn't awkward anymore. In fact, it felt comfortable, natural. Like they had been doing this for their entire lives. Almost unconsciously, she leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder as she moved closer. He tightened his arms around her, running one hand up her back.

Shiraishi closed her eyes, and felt a sense of belonging enveloping her.

They offered their congratulations to the newly wedded couple again, and managed to evade Surumi they best they could, and just like that, the night was over.

She let out a happy sigh of relief as they walked towards the train station. It was a good night for a walk, although the weather was albeit cool. She tightened her shawl around herself, shivering slightly. Within seconds, she felt a jacket draped upon her shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold," he said, adjusting his jacket so that she was properly wrapped up in it.

"But you…" It was chilly, and she didn't want him to catch a cold.

"I'm fine," he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks, and continued walking beside her.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while before she spoke. "You know, I know I've said it a lot of times, but really and truly, thank you for doing this for me. I really appreciate it."

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "It was a small thing. Besides…" the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "I got a free meal out of it."

Shiraishi laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. "Well, I hope the free meal was worth your time, Kōsa…I mean, Aizawa."

He halted as she continued walking ahead, and she turned back when she realised he wasn't by her side anymore. "Aizawa?"

"…It's all right if you want to continue calling me Kōsaku."

She looked at him curiously. "Really? I mean, if you want me to, but it's kind of weird, isn't it? You've been Aizawa to me for so long, and…"

"Megumi," he interrupted, and somehow, she felt a slight thrill, hearing her first name in his voice, in a situation where she knew there was no pretence involved. "What I said to your aunt just now. It wasn't an improvisation."

"Eh?"

Aizawa took two steps closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you understand what I mean?"

"…I think?" She said, her tone uncertain. She thought maybe she understood, but then again, it didn't seem plausible that he…

He shook his head wryly. "Shiraishi Megumi, you'll be the death of me."

"What…"

She never got to finish her sentence, as Aizawa pulled her towards him, and she found herself in trapped within the circle his arms, his lips landing on hers as he kissed her. It didn't too take long for her to finally understand, and she kissed him back, winding her arms around him.

They pulled apart after a long, delicious moment, their arms still around each other. He looked at her for a long moment, and brushed back her hair from her face, resting his forehead against hers. "Do you really understand now?" He murmured.

All sort of emotions were tumbling through her at the moment as she looked at him, he who had been by her side, all these years, and she thought how utterly ridiculous it was that only now, she was finally starting to see him for everything he was.

Shiraishi placed her hand on his cheek, the touch of her fingers feather-light, and smiled at him. "I do, Kōsaku. I do."

And then she kissed him.

A/N: I've written more than 20,000 words of Code Blue/Aizawa x Shiraishi in the past two weeks, totalling across four fics. This is literally the length of my Masters' thesis hahahahahaha omg. I think obsessed is an understatement.

I tried my hardest to keep them in character, especially Aizawa, so I hope on the whole, this works. Again, like I said, I know this is cliché as hell, but I hope y'all enjoyed it, because I did enjoy writing it. Reviews, comments, criticisms, suggestions are appreciated and loved, as always.

P.S. I've updated between you and me, but due to NSFW elements, I have bumped the rating to M. Set your filters accordingly to find it. :)