Disclaimer: I do not own Maid-sama!

i wanna break this crown
by. Poisoned Scarlett

"Your interest in that troublesome girl is beginning to concern me," Maki says quietly, shuffling some paperwork by his desk. He looks up when he doesn't hear a reply from his friend and finds him lent against the podium, his gaze directed outside. "President?"

"Don't concern yourself with my affairs with that girl," Tora tells him crisply. He smirks, his eyes slitting with amusement. "I assure you, there's nothing between us other than my insatiable curiosity to see her expression when she falls."

"Ah," Maki hums. "So it's like that, is it? I trust your judgement."

"The fact that you doubted me in the first place makes me want to throw you out this window," Tora comments casually, as if mentioning the weather. Maki stiffens behind him. "But slipping in a repair notice is such a hassle."

"Erm...right," Maki coughs. It was never good to get on Tora Igarashi's bad side. "I've finished the paperwork you assigned to me. I'll leave it on your desk in your office."

Tora holds his hand out instead, surprising the young Vice-President. "I'll take it up myself. You may leave, Maki," he says, demurely, and takes the paperwork without another word. He doesn't move from his place by the podium, even when Maki hesitates by the door and looks over at him one last time. "What are you standing there for? Get out!"

Maki does, scrambling out before Tora could burn him with his gaze. It's only when Maki's footsteps fade that Tora's shoulders drop and his expression wearies into one of thought. He looks down at the paperwork he had slipped under his arm and he shuffles through the papers for the budget, skimming through until he reads Other. That entailed his extracurricular activities, which included all the preparation he was putting into the surprise trip to Britain with one Misaki Ayuzawa.

"Ayuzawa," he says, thoughtfully. She was certainly unique, there was no doubt about it. She was not particularly beautiful, not to the scale that he was used to anyway, but she exuded her own type of beauty; a fiery passion that made his throat tighten every time she showed it. She was so reckless with her expressions, Tora thought with a curled smile, perhaps that was why she captivated Usui Takumi so much. He would admit that it was those unbridled expressions that captivated him as well, the way her cheeks would flush and her lips pursed together, her fists clenched by her sides, her chest heaving, her throat tight with her rage, that distinct scritch as her teeth ground into each other from sheer frustration. She was simply so entertaining, so absolutely full of surprises.

Tora could not help himself; he was an easily bored man, and Ayuzawa was a kaleidoscope of entertainment.

He supposes that is something he shares with Usui, their boredom with ordinary things. He mulls over what else they might have in common and sneers, crushing his budget status in his hand and stuffing the rest of the paperwork under his arm. He'll have to ask Maki to print him another copy of the budget, but it matters little to him. Misaki would have scolded him, Tora thinks, she would have gotten in his face and growled that such unnecessary waste was just that: unnecessary. She would have straightened out the paper, probably, handed it back to him and told him to think about how one sheet of paper cost twenty cents.

"That woman," he says aloud, laughter tinging his words. "She's so ridiculous."

He wonders if he's ridiculous for wanting her so much and his laughter dies in his throat, swallowed up by the emptiness of the classroom. Maki had a reason to be concerned: his interest in Misaki had only grown more dangerous, the longer she was around him. He derived a comfort and satisfaction in watching her stumble around in heels in his office, watching her practice her English with him, every word hard-sounding and unsure, the way her lips would work over sentences, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek when she tried to remember a word. Those were the hardest times for Tora, knowing that Usui was the only one who ever felt the velvet heat of her mouth, or the way her lips felt right after she laughed. He would never feel that and even if he did, it would never be the same.

She would never kiss him like she kissed Usui, embrace him like she did Usui, even speak to him like she did with Usui. There would always be a wall between them, impregnable unless his name was Usui Takumi.

None of that mattered, though, did it? They were all fanciful muses; they were never to be taken seriously. The absurd longing that had taken root in his heart was a phase, just a spoiled yearning for something that he could not have.

Money had always bought him his deepest desires, yet now he desired something that not even all his fortune could buy. The irony isn't lost to him and it only ticks him off, makes him clench his fists as childish want fights its way up his throat in the form of a snarl. He sharply turns away from the window, heading into one of Miyabigaoka's pristine hallways. He can have it all—all of it—at a fingers snap, at a beck, at a call! He can have her, have her completely, all he needed to do was find out her weakness—the chink in her armor that would grant him access to the parts of her that not even Usui knew. Everyone has their darkness, Misaki is no exception. Somewhere inside that idealistic, ridiculous, absolutely absurd woman lies a darkness—!

"Uwah—wait—look out, Igarashi-san!"

Tora swiftly sidesteps Misaki, watching her fall flat on her rear. She groans, rubbing her tailbone, her legs bent awkwardly. Heels, she had been practicing with her heels again. He can hear Tenryuu shouting about raw diamonds and passion down the hall, but his attention is focused on Misaki and how she smiles a wobbly smile up at him, her cheeks tinged red with embarrassment.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Walking around so ungracefully in my halls?"

"Y-your halls?" Misaki sputters. Her eyes crinkle with irritation. "These aren't your halls! You don't own Miyabigaoka!"

"I might as well, since I'm President of this school," he grins sharply. "Wouldn't you say you own Seika?"

Misaki ponders this very seriously as she wobbles upright, only to slid back down to her bum. It's no surprise, Tora thinks with mild distaste, she had only just started her training with heels. "No, I don't. I may be president of Seika, but that doesn't mean that I am entitled to it. Seika is everyone's," she tells him seriously, "it doesn't belong to just one person. After all, my classmate's go there every day in order to make something of themselves. It wouldn't be fair to say that it belonged to me when everyone else benefits from the school just as much as I do."

"Tch," he scoffs, reaching down to grab her arm. He pulls her upright, holding her steady for a second. He doesn't let go when she mumbles thanks, and he only tightens his grip when she tugs her arm back. "How very typical of you, Ayuzawa, to place others above yourself like that. I don't know what I expected," he smirks down at her and she glares, that fire kindling in her eye. It is put out when she notices his cynical eyes soften, his smile more genuine than she has ever seen it. "You called me by my name. You should do it more often, Misaki."

Misaki gapes, flinching away from him immediately. She crawls far away from him, pointing an accusing finger at his grinning face. "I-I did no such thing! I called you Igarashi-san, n-not...not..!"

"Not what?" He taunts. He can hear Tenryuu closer now; he's caught onto her trail. It was too bad. He wanted to tease his Seika toy a little longer. "Say it!"

"N-NEVER! It's too embarrassing, to refer to you like that...like we're…" She shakes her head, face red, surprising him yet again when she shouts, "Like we're close friends! You and I both know that you only see me as some sort of toy," her eyes slit with distaste and he feels something akin to loss bite at his chest. "So don't pretend to be concerned over me, President. I assure you, I have no need for your pity! We're doing this for our own benefit!"

"Of course," Tora sneers, his eyes cold. Misaki stiffens but does not back down. He expected this, too. He just hadn't expected it to hurt. "Whoever said you were anything more than a tool for my own benefit, Ayuzawa? You work well as a source of entertainment, however," he smirks snidely, turning on his heel and heading down the hall again. He waves his paperwork at her in a lazy goodbye. "I can see why Usui keeps you around."

Misaki grits her teeth. "You bastard…"

"RAW DIAMOND! I'VE FOUND YOU!"

"Wha—AHHH! Get away from me, you perverted creep—!"

"NO, WAIT, COME BACK! I JUST WANT TO TOUCH YOUR EYES UP!"

"WHAT KIND OF SICK FANTASIES ARE YOU INTO?!"

"RAW DIAMOND, COME BACK!"

"I REFUSE!"

Tora gazes down at his shoes as Misaki dashes down the hall again, abandoning her heels for the sake of escaping the make-up artists' grasp. It's silent again, and Tora is left to his own thoughts, fist clenched tightly in the pockets of his slacks. He taps the edge of his paperwork against his cheek, expression nothing less than blank.

Money has always given him all the luxuries his heart could desire, but it seems that it would never be able to buy the love he craves from Misaki Ayuzawa.