A/N: Because they were adorable, even as middle school kids.

Much to Learn

Seeing Karma in his office, serving as a politician, is much different than their class reunions. Talking to someone else about her research is draining, especially when there's success on the line, but this discussion is her last hope for the chemical she has been working on in her lab.

"It's a good drug, I'll give you that. It's potent and has few side effects; it's affordable, and appealing." Okuda shifts nervously, excitedly, in her uncomfortably plush chair. "And it'll be trapped in regulations for years to come."

"P-people need it!" She bursts, and curses herself for falling into old habits. Now is not the time, not when she needs his approval. "Karma. I mean, sir. Please."

"Legally, there's nothing I can do." Those amber eyes are unapologetically on her.

"I understand," she concedes, feeling small and dirty, her gaze dropping to the floor. Years of work, and she may not even see it help people. Then a warm hand is pulling her chin up to meet his smirk.

"Okuda. Do you honestly believe I am a politician that works only within the law?" Her face flushes with building joy.

"No," the scientist replies in an excited hush. "So what do I need to do? Assassinate someone? Poison an enemy of the state? Poison my competitors? I have cyanide."

The smirk melts into a fond, lazy grin. "I forgot how much I like the way you think, Okuda."

"Thank you," she accepts simply, and her memory is awash in those classroom days, the sweetness of youth and of trying to kill their teacher. Despite everyone's fear of Karma, she had admired him deeply. Devoted, inventive, never taking "you can't" for an answer. They'd studied together a few times to boost their respective scores in math and science, and despite the incessant teasing she couldn't recall a time he had ever been truly cruel. When they graduated and parted he had pressed his face deep into her shoulder, her clothes smoky from an earlier experiment, and held her tight for a few brief moments. We had fun, didn't we, Okuda?

She's been told he's even more intimidating as a six foot tall grown man, a calculating and successful politician. Okuda still doesn't feel intimidated. She feels… warm.

"Corrupt politicians require payment, Okuda. Are you ready to bribe me?"

"I don't have much money," she replies hesitantly. "I would much rather mix you up something dangerous to play with."

"Hmm," Karma hums, "Not really interested in the cash offer. My mind is on something… different." His hand is on her cheek, his thumb making mesmerizing circles. She feels herself leaning in. "I have two ideas. First: someone is trying to poison me. I need a way to prevent that; I need antidotes and ways to check for poisons."

A way to prevent poisons. That's certainly within her skillset, though not her usual. "Who's trying to kill you, Karma?"

"Oh, several people." He waves a hand dismissively. "The who doesn't matter. I'll make them pay later." There's a distinct chill in the air. "Secondly, I'd like you to come live with me. That'll help with the first objective nicely."

"Live… with you."

"Yes, my little glasses wearing witch, I'd appreciate that."

"But I have an apartment," she protests in confusion.

"My people have told me that you don't even sleep there," he retorts casually, holding up a phone with a picture of her, glasses askew and hair a mess, asleep in her lab office's couch. She recognized a book she had been reading that lay spread across her chest… from a month prior. When she looks back to him, his eyes are sharp. "As you can see, I'm serious about this. Well, I wouldn't commit to serious, but I've clearly done my homework. That's why I called you here to talk about your research."

She fidgets uncomfortably. "So if I do this for you, you'll help my drug get to market?"

"It'll still take time," he warns, "But I can get it to market in under a year. That's blindingly fast considering regulations. I'm not usually so generous."

"Thank you," she says, looking to her lap, her voice shaking. "That's all I can ask for." I'm so happy. Class 3-E has been a godsend again. It gave me a voice; it gave me confidence. And it gave me people like Karma, who can be unbearably kind.

"Remember that this is bribery." It's as if he's read her mind. "Don't tell anyone that we've agreed to this."

"Of course," she replies firmly.

"Great." He stands, moving around the desk to usher her out. "I'll see you later, then."

"See me later?" She pushes her glasses up her nose to get a better look at him. "Am I not leaving?"

"You are. I meant later, at home." When Okuda continues to stare uncomprehendingly, he grins sweetly and leans in. "I knew you'd accept, Okuda. I already had them move everything from your apartment over. I thought you might be a tougher sell, but I didn't even have to threaten to take the deal off the table if you didn't commit today."

She can't make her mouth work. It just gapes, and she can't even whip up her emotions into anger.

"U-um," she begins.

"My secretary will give you all of the info you need. I have another meeting now. Toyota's representative hates it when I'm late."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She steps immediately out the door. "When are they coming in?"

"I've had him waiting in another room for 15 minutes," Karma mentions with a smirk. "Do you think I just give people what they want? You have a lot to learn, Okuda. But don't worry. I'll teach you."

She had never thought of Karma Akabane as the type of man who manipulated others solely for his own amusement. Certainly, this would be beneficial for both of them, but clutching at her chest which contained her rapidly beating heart, she wasn't sure if she was ready to match him in their deal.

Karma is a busy man. He leaves before the sun rises and comes home long after it's set, and sometimes she wakes in the early hours to him taking a phone call softly from his room next to hers. Naturally, Okuda is also always busy. Moving into Karma's home has been like taking on a second job, as she works during the day on her clinical trial and laboratory duties, then returns home to experiment with poisons and check Karma's meals. One day she falls asleep at the desk he's given her in the living room, poring over three separate articles on the biochemistry of the inner stomach lining, and she wakes to thin warm fingers on her cheek.

"Up, Okuda. This is no place to sleep. I'm not trying to drive you into the ground with work."

"What time is it?" She hums groggily, "I was supposed to email someone before midnight."

"Oh, was that what that angry call was about at midnight?"

"No, no!" Okuda scrambles out of her chair, sweeping up her papers in a panic, and her eyes come in contact with the digital clock, reading 11:34pm.

"My bad," Karma says innocently, with a hint of smugness, "That call was for me this morning at midnight."

Okuda flushes, breathing hard, feeling the adrenaline rush out of her system. "Karma, you scared me," she accuses. The red haired man rubs her back sympathetically.

"I'm sorry—just couldn't resist."

She pauses, because she knows what she wants to say—she wants to tease him back, but isn't sure if that's appropriate. Right now, he's technically her employer, though in a very underhanded way. But those golden eyes are brimming with expectation.

"You don't want me to be lax in my checking for poisons, do you?"

The side of his mouth curls up. "Oh my, Okuda, but if I died who would get your drug approved?"

He's relaxed in his teasing, but she's already grinning with joy at the casual, jovial exchange. Open in everything, that's how Okuda Manami is. "Who said you would die? There are plenty of poisons and concentrations that only cause major discomfort."

The two former classmates are left staring at each other, Okuda feeling as though she's flying. She hadn't been around someone so easy to talk to, someone she was comfortable with, since her time in Class E. How she'd missed them all! How many nights had she spent alone in the lab, or alone in her apartment? She liked her alone time, but this was fun in its own way. We're going to be such good friends, she thinks warmly, her heart brimming with joy. And I'll get to see him every day, and hear his opinions, and-

"You win," Karma says suddenly, affectionately. He leans down, kisses her forehead. "Excellent job, Okuda. Share these poisons with me sometime. For now, go send your email."

The place where his lips touched burns. …Friends?

"What?" His voice is deep, but confused. She had said it aloud, it seemed.

"I'm so glad we're friends," Okuda says in a rush. "We are friends, aren't we?" His eyebrows raise slowly, but his mouth slides into an easy grin.

"Of course."

She reaches up, takes his face in her hands, and pulls it down. Initially, the redhead seems to resist, golden eyes flashing with an emotion she doesn't understand, but then concedes and comes down to her level. The scientist tips her face forward, and he does the same with a surprised wariness, before she rapidly aims her lips towards their target: the forehead. A quick peck, a ruffling of his hair, and Okuda is pleased with herself. I can be affectionate too, she muses proudly.

To her surprise he remains, hunched to her height, his face the oddest expression. The last time she'd seen him like this was soon after the midterms he had struggled on that year in Class 3-E, and having just been clearly close friends Okuda finds the audacity to ask if he wants to share.

"Did something bad happen at work?"

"What… why?" It's like he's waking from a dream, his voice low. The politician begins to straighten.

"You look…" But the look is gone; same old Karma Akabane, tall and mischievous and easygoing in most things. "…Ah. Nevermind." Her violet eyes flash to the digital clock. 11:40pm. "I have to send my email! Goodnight, Karma."

"Goodnight," he agrees, and wanders towards the stairs, loosening his tie.

Okuda fashions her email, and unbeknownst to her, Karma makes a phone call.

"Nagisa. Pick. Up. I need a woman's opinion on something."

"Wha, Karma, it's nearly midnight..." Even when groggy, the man's voice is feminine. "Do you want me to wake up Kayano?"

"You'll do fine," Karma teases, and then realizes he has missed a much greater opportunity. "Kayano's there? Is that so, Nagisa. It is midnight, that magical hour of romance. Is she sleeping over?"

An indignant breath, and then some shuffling, before the teacher comes back on. "We just fell asleep watching a movie!" Karma can hear the eye roll. "And I can hardly give you a woman's opinion. Aren't we too old for this kind of banter?"

"Mm. I hear you still look like a middle schooler," Karma says casually, throwing himself onto his bed.

"We don't need to bring that up," the voice on the other end moans. "Now what's going on, Karma?"

"Okuda is living at my house," the redhead states flatly.

"Seriously? How'd that happen?"

"Oh, I'm a bastard," Karma offers in simple explanation. "I'm enslaving her for a while and doing her a favor in return."

"Well, you two used to get along. Is there some kind of problem?"

Nagisa, even as a naturally talented assassin, has more of Karma's trust than anyone else. But that says very little.

"I want her to be welcome here." A pause. "I'm not used to putting my efforts towards making people comfortable."

"She's comfortable with you," comes that gentle voice over the phone. "At least that's how I read it. Just be yourself, Karma, I promise he's not that bad of a guy."

"Okuda's always been comfortable with him," adds a new, muffled voice from Nagisa's end of the line. "When everyone else was terrified of Karma, she couldn't fathom why. Don't fret about it too much, okay? Nagisa, come back to the couch," Kayano finishes in a sleepy demand.

"Yes, go back to having lesbian sex," Karma encourages, hanging up as he hears a shriek begin.

By the time he pads back downstairs, Okuda has presumably sent her email and left her desk empty. Really, always been comfortable? We were close in middle school, I suppose. She's too smart to fully let my guard down around, but innocent. And, he admits, the joy on her face at a mere conversation flashing through his memory, Well intentioned. Genuine.

He'd thought she meant to kiss him earlier. He had considered letting her.

Thirty minutes after lunch, brought in by his harried secretary, Karma collapses. He wakes in a hospital, and there is cursing and threats, and the next day the restaurant whose food he ate watches as a judge awards someone suing them for millions (despite their bribery). It wasn't his secretary; he comforts her while he pulls harshly on her cheek, reminding her that she is not to ever mention who she purchases food for. She had saved his life, after all, by injecting something Okuda had created mere days before.

So Okuda joins him at work. He sets her up in an empty office with a cheerful exclamation of "go to town and kill someone by Friday!" She spends her time before lunch catching up on emails and grants for her labwork, and then delves into her latest project for Karma. Around three in the afternoon, a man in a pinstripe suit with slicked back hair stops by her cubicle and whistles.

"Well hello there. Who knew these offices had a new intern? What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Nightshade," is the first word off her tongue, because he's interrupted her reading. In a fluster she adjusts her glasses and is about to correct herself when Karma appears, tall frame slung on the short wall of her cubicle.

"That's about right, I'd say," he drawls, "You'll be dead if you get too close. This is my good friend, Okuda." The man's facial expression clearly enunciates a horrified I didn't know you had friends, but then his neck is clamped in the crook of Karma's elbow. "Well come along. We've business to discuss."

Around four, a timid girl a few years her junior approaches, clearly mistaking her for a worker. "My boss told me to give this to the politician on this floor, but I've heard he's…" she pauses, waits, and Okuda cheerfully makes the connection.

"Oh, is he not in the office? I'll take it and give it to him later." The girl essentially throws the spray of papers onto her desk and runs, leaving Okuda to roll up her sleeves and collect them. Mission accomplished, the scientist gathers the bundle into her arms and wanders over to Karma's door, rapping on its wood out of politeness, despite believing him gone. Shortly after, there is frantic movement at the secretary's desk.

"No, don't—"

The door opens an inch, and despite the distinct chill the secretary feels go up her spine, the black haired woman seems unaffected. After a brief pause, Karma opens the door fully and Okuda beams at him.

"You are in! Well. This was left for you." She gestures with the stack and one piece begins a spinning descent to the floor. "Oh, let me." Before she can, Karma is fluidly crouching, then her arms are empty.

"The new proposal," he hums. "Let's see what those little piggies came up with this time."

"Also, the cook—"a finger is on her lips, warm, and his own are curled in secretive amusement.

"Now now, a cook? Whatever cook could you be referring to?" She flushes in easy embarrassment. It's supposed to be a secret arrangement. Illegal. How foolish of her to forget.

"M-my mistake!" She exclaims loudly, almost robotically, and with an awkward pat on his shoulder she is headed quickly back to her safe little cubicle.

Nearly settled back in to her work, she is interrupted by the curious secretary. "Mr. Karma doesn't let anyone interrupt him at his office."

"It wasn't hard," Okuda confusedly replies. "He answered when I knocked." The secretary still looks expectant. "Maybe you should try that…?" The assistant's laughter is short but honest.

"I'd never expect him to be friends with someone as open as you, but I supposed it must be true."

"What? Why?" If there was one thing Karma had going for him in conversation, it was honesty. Perhaps a forceful brand of it, one that didn't tiptoe around feelings, but honesty all the same. Maybe not in his political machinations…

"Karma is…" clearly his secretary is having the same trouble comprehending him in words as Okuda is. Looking to the scientist's face, the woman concedes defeat. "…complicated."

Okuda smiles. "I think so too," she agrees sweetly, appreciating the vague compliment for a man she admires. Then she is back to cardiac issues caused by poison ingestion, enveloped in a complex but understandable world of science, and she doesn't return until eight, when two arms wrap about her shoulders and Karma rests his chin atop her head.

"It's dinnertime, intern."

The waiter treats them like royalty. He also nervously spills a bit of wine onto Okuda's white jacket, and then looks ready for the Grim Reaper to appear.

"Is this a problem, Okuda?" The question is light and airy, and Okuda makes eye contact with him, looks at the small stain on her shoulder, then stares back into his calm gold gaze.

"No," she intones, her voice almost a question, "Look, I spilled hydrogen peroxide over here last week." A gesture to the hole has him smirking, a laugh on his lips.

"Have you ever leaned over in lab and—" he cuts off his strong voice suddenly, staring with a frustration out the window next to their table. The waiter retreats with a string of apologies, and Okuda feels let down. No stone goes uncovered in her world of science.

"What were you going to say?" She prompts, and Karma drums his fingers into the white tablecloth, one by one.

"Something dirty," he monotones. "But I won't." She flushes, and he feels right to have stopped himself, until-

"Why?"

He whips that golden gaze back to her—so easy to talk to, he thinks rapidly, could I really say anything I liked?

"Because you're a lady, Okuda," he gently reminds her.

"But I'm your friend!" She bursts, and with a brief touch on her knuckles that sit atop the table he quiets her slightly, "I know how friends talk! Like Okajima and Itona used to."

He snorts, nearly laughs aloud. Between two perverted boys, maybe they talk that way. And Okuda was willing to be that to him, should he need it. A life giver with her medications, a support in conversations, a lawbreaker for the greater good, even a perverted partner in crime. The last thought takes the red-haired man to inappropriate places. What wouldn't she do, if I asked- he cuts himself off in his mind this time, calms himself, brings consciousness back to the conversation. There she sits, eager and with no shame, ready to be whatever she can to him because she wants to improve herself.

"I was going to ask," he begins, and she holds still in rapt attention, "If you'd ever leaned over and burned off certain parts of your actual shirt, if you'd-" he analyzes her reaction at this point, and still Okuda listens "-flashed anyone."

"Oh," she squeaks, and takes a deep breath, "Only once."

Then they're both laughing, and Karma hardly notices the expensive meal. Okuda can talk, he realizes as she launches into one hilariously disastrous experiment after another, and he tells her of some of his more public political movements. She may be a bit awkward, and hesitant, and the cadence of her voice falters, but it's so genuine that those details hardly matter.

When they wander from the dim, nearly empty restaurant at midnight, with Karma leaving a generous tip, she putters around on the sidewalk as they wait for the limo driver. He'd forgotten to call in advance; forgotten to be ridiculously ahead of the game, as always. A brief glance at his phone tells him he has nearly fifty unanswered emails, but when Okuda totters up to a nearby store window the politician finds himself shoving the phone into his coat pocket and wandering after her.

"They have toffee," she says with quiet excitement, "I'll have to remember for later."

"I've worked with them. I can have them drop off samples at the office tomorrow."

Her violet eyes are full of surprised warmth. A soft hand is suddenly gripping at his own, her fingers moving clumsily into the wrong spaces. Karma fixes the hold tenderly, absentmindedly, but his mind is awake. Pit of tension in my stomach. I'm breathing too fast—it's because my heart rate is up. Maybe they poisoned my dinner? No, Okuda checked, I-

Lips are pressed to his cheek. Karma feels knocked off balance, slammed in the gut, like he managed to make it too close to Karasuma in training. He comes to as she swings their still linked hands.

"-my favorite, so thank you."

His head is nodding in acknowledgment. "On the cheek?" Is all he can dumbly question. He's not a child—his own behavior is continuing to terrify him.

"I couldn't reach your forehead, sorry, I thought…" her grip on his hand loosens, almost slips. He clenches his calloused fingers around hers, presses their foreheads together, so much closer to her level.

A careful tone. "I don't mind that. Do you mind this?" Her brows furrow—he can feel it, feel the quickening of her breath fanning across his face.

"Maybe," she chokes out, and he pulls back. A sleek limo pulls around the corner, and he checks the license plate before tipping his head towards it.

"In we go."

She's attracted, he muses moments later, But maybe doesn't understand. Karma knows enough of his own body to understand that he wants her. The chemist is turned from him, gazing out the car window into the dark night, hands fiddling nervously with the edges of her jacket. You haven't done anything wrong, Okuda. God, her strength is delicate. He silences the neurotic movements with one hand, one thumb circling over her right palm, on the long drive home.

He works on Saturdays, and that's when she calls Kayano. "Help," Okuda breathes into the phone. "Something's wrong."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Oh, definitely, I just think I've—I've screwed up somehow. Karma just… he just stares sometimes, Kayano, and when he's not staring he's got this steadying hand on me and I think that… that…"

"Oh, Manami, that's—"

"I think he doesn't trust me!" The thought is unbearable and like an open wound.

"I don't think that's what it means," Kayano chuckles. "Look, I hate to do this, but I'm in a shoot right now. I'll call you back soon, but don't spend that time worrying. You know that Karma cares about you. I think he trusts you more than most."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not going to say that I understand Karma, because I don't, not at all. But a man who constantly stares at and touches you isn't distrustful, sweetheart. He's attracted."

The line clicks off, and Okuda numbly dials a new number.

"I'm in a meeting. Is someone trying to kill me?"

"Are you attracted to me?" Her mouth is more straightforward than her mind; her mind is a whirlwind of blurry and awkward feeling.

"Obviously." A clipped pause. "I'm assuming you're asking because you're in a similar position—can we discuss this later?"

"Yes—sure," she replies faintly.

"And don't run away," Karma threatens into her ear, softly sadistic, "Or I'll make you regret it."

Okuda stumbles downstairs, gathers the few things she truly needs, and runs.

Lab. Her safe space. Her brainstorming area. Her occasional bedroom. Kayano's phone call makes her jolt.

"Hello," she says.

"So," the actress begins with a deep breath, "Let's discuss this. We can go over all of the details—oh, we can meet up over pudding! – and figure out if—"

"I talked to him," Okuda replies bluntly. "It's true."

"All… right." Kayano is an actress. She can adjust. "So are you two dating or what?"

"I'm hiding," Okuda whispers.

That's a terrible plan, is Kayano's inner thought, Karma is a born hunter. But outwardly she says, "Where?"

"Um. In my lab."

"That's a terrible plan." There, it's said. "Do you not want to work this out with him? Do you not think of him in a romantic way at all?"

"Romance is mostly just chemicals in the brain." Okuda fiddles with the clutter on her laboratory office desk. "I've never been the reason for chemicals in anyone's brain before. He- he does that for me, but. Maybe he's wrong. I didn't tell him who was calling. Maybe he thought it was someone else."

Her work computer buzzes. Unauthorized entry at Door 12.

"What was that?"

"Someone's in my building."

Entry requested at Door 3.

"Someone is trying to enter my lab." Okuda opens her drawer, pulls out a stoppered flask. "It's okay, I can kill an intruder if they threaten me."

"Just don't throw acid at Karma. You'll want him to keep that face handsome for you." Kayano hangs up, at the same time another message comes on.

Unauthorized entry at Door 3.

Then, her office door handle wiggles.

Her heart rate increases. A year of intense training kicks into gear. She blocks the door with a chair, then a filing shelf, and makes her way out onto the fire escape.

He had training too.

"I warned you not to run."

She drops the flask over a railing, where it smashes into a hissing green puddle on the pavement.

"I'm scared," she finally manages softly, "I'm scared of something this different. This is a relationship I've never tried before, and I'm hardly good at friendships, so—"

"Everyone is always learning." Karma takes a step on the fire escape. "We learned a lot in 3-E together, but that's not where it ended. We were kids then. There's other things to learn too. Be my classmate again, Okuda."

What I've always wanted.

She takes a step to him, closes the gap, and tells him yes.

"I asked Kayano and Nagisa out on a double date," Okuda says nervously, "This Friday. Are you still free that night?"

"Well, yeah," he replies simply, looking up from where he's splayed out on his leather couch. "I've been waiting for ages for you to ask me on an actual date, Okuda. Then we can finally learn all of each other's kinks."

The scientist buries her face in her hands for a brief moment, and then he hears a muffled, timid, "No. Later."

"Later, hmm?" He pulls a pen from his front lapel and tosses it to her. "Go mark 'later' on the calendar for me, would you?"

"I'm still conducting experiments!" Okuda blurts, flustered, and flings the pen back at him before fleeing up the stairs.

I can't think about it, Karma determines in a haze, Cannot think about what that could possibly mean. We are not even to second base yet. It's only been two weeks. We are not…

He distracts himself by teasing Nagisa, as per usual.

"Well hello there, Mrs. Shiota! I hear we're going on a double date. I didn't even know you were dating yet! I just thought you were spending every waking moment together and sleeping together?"

"Karma," his favorite blue haired man replies in a tired monotone, "I am at school. Besides, I thought double date was just a cute name for it? Nobody in this is actually dating—"

"Okuda and I definitely are," Karma inserts smugly, "Did nobody mention that to you?"

"Uh—no," the teacher chokes out. "You're teasing, Karma, aren't you?"

"Obviously," the sadist scoffs, "I'm always teasing. But I'm not lying."

Static and slow breathing is the only thing on the other end of the line.

"Did you ever consider that maybe Kayano actually meant date?"

"No," comes Nagisa's answer, with a cold curiosity. "Hmm. She did act…" That certainly flipped a switch. I think I hear an assassin.

"Well, I expect two couples to be on the date this Friday," Karma finishes slyly, "So see you then, buddy!"

"Wait, I—"

Karma hangs up, and moves to the base of the stairwell. "Okuda! Are you still recovering from our little conversation earlier?"

She wanders into his view, a thick textbook open in her pale arms.

"What?"

"Nevermind," he laughs, and she almost skips down the stairs to him.

"Want to hear about the use of napalm in World War II?"

"Surprisingly, yes." A chaste kiss on her lips, and then they're curled up on the couch for a warm Tuesday evening. They're an odd couple, he has to admit, but there's still a lot to learn.