Miho wasn't sure exactly what drew her attention to the three of them.
They made a beautiful picture walking there with the sun shinning on them through the new spring leaves, but they was nothing unusual about any of them. Nothing that would catch the eye.
Just young family enjoying the nice weather on a Saturday morning.
Maybe it was because, in a sea of people from countless different countries, the parents looked like they came from hers. How ironic.
Under the florescent lights of Raven’s Flat, they had both looked so Western to her eyes, but here in the middle of Central Park, they both looked Japanese.
The trademark of a mixed heritage, she supposed.
Even so, how strange that she did not immediately recognize them.
But Michael in a suit with closely cropped hair? Robin in a lightweight green dress with her hair braided down her back? These weren’t the children that she knew.
And suddenly she had to laugh at herself, because she wasn’t all that much older than they were. Amon was the only one who could truly claim any maturity due to age back then.
And yet, he too was only in his twenties when they were all on the same team. Younger than she was now. . . and, for that matter, younger than Robin and Michael were as well.
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