A/N: I own nothing of the Maid-Sama series. Enjoy!
Present
When the name Ayuzawa Misaki was mentioned to anyone who knew her, perhaps the first few words that popped up in their heads was headstrong, a justice-seeker, a demon to males, or most of all, the most rule-abiding goody goody to have ever walked the earth. Usually Misaki would agree with them. Rules were there for a reason, after all.
So how was it that she was in her office, currently pinned half-naked underneath the most infuriating but undeniably sexy man she had ever met, about to be fucked senseless within an inch of her life?
One year ago, Japan
Hinata Misaki quietly swept the floor for nonexistent dust as Shintani packed the last of his belongings in their bedroom. Now solely hers, she realized. Not that she slept there much. Most times she came back from work so late that she ended up sleeping on the couch in an effort to not disturb Shintani's sleeping form as he snored on the bed. Perhaps her sleeping on the couch was one of the many signs that she and Shintani were simply never meant to be. Perhaps her constant working overtime was an unconscious effort to avoid meeting Shintani's disappointed eyes. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism used to avoid a dying relationship that they both knew was going to come to an end.
The mood was far too somber for either to say much as she followed him to the door.
After all, what was there to say? Sorry for not being able to love him in the exact way that he wanted? Sorry that she couldn't be the woman he wanted her to be? His dream woman, in fact. She could never be the housewife and partner that he dreamed of her being, smiling and being a hostess in the small restaurant he owned as he worked as a chef. Ironic, as she was once a waitress who had worked at a maid cafe back in her high school years.
Now twenty seven years old, she was one of the Chief Branch Managers of Igarashi Corporation, a stable job with a steady income. No more would her family worry about finding the next meal again. A boring job that resulted in her constant working overtime, Shintani had once called her career during one of their many spats. A job that Shintani had once called not fit for a female to do and should be left for men to do.
That was when Misaki's eyes had truly opened.
She had worked hard for her position, forging ahead despite all the snide remarks that a male would have been more suited for her position. So Misaki had held her head high, knowing that she was the only female Chief Branch Manager among a board dominated by males. She was a beacon of inspiration to her other female colleagues.
That night she had snapped when Shintani, in an uncharacteristic fit of anger, had insinuated that she had used her feminine wiles to get her promotion. As soon as the words left Shintani's lips, he regretted it as his expression immediately fell crestfallen.
But the damage was done.
The next day, the pile of foreboding divorce papers were placed on the counter they had once shared smiles and laughter over, dreaming of the future they would once have.
She supposed she couldn't blame him too much. Society had raised generations of sexism, Shintani included, and even in the modern world, there were always instances of setbacks. At least Shintani was trying to improve and learn, unlike a small but still irksome group of men in her company that talked shit behind her back like she had slept her way to the top.
Shintani paused as he walked out of the apartment into the building hallway. His brown eyes studied her own amber eyes.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye." He finally said. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but no words came out.
Out of the corner of her eye, Misaki saw his hand fidget with something lumpy in his pocket. The ring. After eight years of dating and two years of marriage, she had returned the ring to him. Neither was surprised. It was unfair to both of them if they stayed in an unhappy relationship.
"Yeah. I guess it is."
Words of apologies were left unspoken in the air.
Shintani's apple's bob shifted as he swallowed nervously. He still loved her, that was obvious. "Try not to overwork yourself, Misa-chan."
She smiled over her old nickname. It was the most genuine smile she had worn on her face for a while. She still loved him too, but it wasn't the same puppy love as before. "I'll try not to, Shintani. Good luck."
Shintani murmured a last goodbye before hoisting his luggage and walked away. It would be a new chapter in his life. It would be a new chapter for her too.
Misaki closed the door, then turned around and slumped down with her back to the door, suddenly more exhausted than she had expected. The apartment looked so empty now. Most of the knickknacks decorating the apartment had been Shintani's, in an effort to make the apartment look more homey. Goodness knows Misaki wouldn't have the time to decorate the apartment. The picture frames that had once held their wedding pictures were now replaced with pictures of her sister and mother. A sad wilting plant from her sister on the kitchen counter was the only other remnant of decoration beside the bare necessity of furniture. She walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water to water it.
A large sigh escaped her mouth, breaking the silence of the apartment. She didn't realize she was holding it back since Shintani had come to pick up the last of his clothing. A sigh of relief? A sigh of sadness? She didn't know.
Misaki opened the fridge to pull out the wine bottle. She was no longer Hinata Misaki, but Ayuzawa Misaki once more.
Three and a half months ago, China
Takumi reached up to rub his eyes tiredly, only for his hand to ram painfully into his glasses. Oh, right. He had switched to glasses from his usual contact lenses in an effort to stop unwanted flirtations. Unfortunately, it had an opposite effect. Twice today he had heard the hushed whispering and giggles from his female clients about how glasses only made him hotter, even when their husbands or boyfriends were right next to them. The number of lewd emails he had gotten from female clients wanting to perform a few ah, services, to him in return for posing for him naked had somehow substantially increased.
The next email he clicked on seemed innocuous enough. I want you to ram your hot, hard cock into my- He quickly sent the email into the trash folder. Perhaps he should revert back to contact lenses.
The door to his office opened. Takumi didn't bother moving his eyes from the computer screen to know who was entering his closed office door without knocking. Even the trashiest email was suddenly now preferable to the unwelcome guest he now had.
"You have to make an appointment." The annoyance in his voice belied the usual blank expression he wore.
"Even for your own brother?" Gerard strode in, pausing at the multitude of pictures decorating the wall of his office. At least he had left his watchdog, Cedric, outside the office.
"Half-brother." Takumi corrected. Gerard chose to ignore him.
Photographs of flora, fauna, architecture, and people detailed the immense travelling Takumi did. "You could have owned a multi-million corporation and you choose to throw it all away." Gerard's eyes landed on an international award Takumi had received for a published photobook about slums. "At least you're doing quite well for yourself. I'm surprised you haven't used the Walker name to pull yourself into fame."
And Takumi hadn't. He supposed if he even breathed the word Walker, his subject base would have expanded immensely to power-hungry businessmen and politicians asking him for portraits instead of the ordinary people and their ordinary tasks he liked to take pictures of. After all, he lived vicariously through his pictures, wishing that his life was just as ordinary and simple as theirs.
"What do you want?" Takumi's green eyes stared coolly back at his half-brother's blue eyes. He hated how similar his features were to Gerard's. Thankfully, he had inherited his mother's blonde hair and green eyes. Without those features, he could be the spitting image of his half brother. He already hated looking at himself in the mirror, reminded of the invisible chains that still tied him to the Walkers, no matter how far he tried to escape. Gerard currently being in his office was proof of that.
"Straight to the point, I see." Gerard sat down in the chair across from him and turned to face him directly. "Grandfather passed away in his sleep last night. I guess you know what that means. Your carefree life can no longer be sustained."
Takumi said nothing. He had always known that this day would come. No matter how he tried, he was always leashed to the Walker family.
Gerard pulled an envelope from the inside of his suit pocket and placed it on Takumi's desk. "Like it or not, Grandfather left you part of his inheritance, which includes the CFO of the Walker Corporation. I know you don't want any part of this family, but like it or not, you are still bound to us." Gerard cut Takumi off, knowing that he was going to refuse any part of the family business. "I can offer you a deal."
Takumi scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "A deal. Spoken like a true businessman."
Gerard shrugged. "You haven't heard of the deal yet." He pulled out the chair in front of Takumi's desk, ignoring how Takumi glared at him as he sat down. "You can relinquish the money or title once you do two simple requests for us."
"Ah, and there's the whole truth. You just want the whole inheritance for yourself."
Gerard smiled mirthlessly. "Is that what you truly think of me? Perhaps you're right, perhaps you're wrong. Regardless, you have a new job starting next week. A photographing one, so that'll be up your alley. Go to Igarashi Corporations and be the head photographer for the professional photoshoot they're hosting. Then, simply meet Tora Igarashi during that time and force him to a meeting. Then we'll take care of the rest and sign a business deal the Walker family needs. After that, you can return to..." Gerard's eyes scanned Takumi's office once more. "...whatever this is."
Takumi stared Gerard down. "And why can't you get ahold of Igarashi yourself, oh-so-powerful Walker heir?" The sarcasm was hard to keep out of his voice.
"Because that bastard refuses to reply to any of our correspondence. So this is where you come in. Just meeting him will do and we'll stay out of your life. We can even sign a contract if you want to." Not even bothering to hear Takumi's acceptance of the deal, Gerard got up from his chair as if to leave. "One last thing. Here."
He gently laid down a box, opening the lid to reveal a small leather journal. The edges were already graying, but the bright gold lettering were still clear and unmarred from human use or time. Patricia. Throat dry, Takumi gently opened the leather cover to the first page. A picture was tucked inside, the image of a beautiful woman with blonde curls and laughing green eyes. Her smile was mischievous, as though she was caught right in the middle of pulling a prank. It had been a long time since Takumi had seen a picture of his mother. His grandfather had ordered most pictures of his daughter be destroyed when Patricia had committed adultery. He gingerly picked up the picture, as thought it could disintegrate at any moment. Out of the corner of the eye, Takumi caught Gerard looking wistfully at the picture.
"Are you giving this to me?" His throat was drier than he thought, his voice almost catching in his throat.
"As much as I wish Grandfather hadn't given that to you in his will, it is yours. Which leads me to the second request. Make a copy of that picture. Simple."
Takumi's eyes flew up to meet Gerard's. Gerard stared defiantly back, as if daring him to make a snide comment back.
"Since it's a picture of our mother, I trust that you won't ruin the original picture by making copies of it."
Three months ago, Japan
"How's your studies?" Misaki asked her sister as they scanned the cafe's menu.
"Fine." Though Suzuna's expression didn't change the slightest bit, Misaki detected a hint of frustration. "Just anatomy class. There's a lot to memorize."
"Have you been getting help? Maybe a tutor? We can afford that, you know."
"It's fine, I've been going to my professor's office hours and he's quite helpful. How was the talk with Shintani?" Suzuna asked, trying to change the topic.
"Hmm, it went as well as it could be. Everything about the divorce has been finalized." Misaki's eyebrows furrowed. "Have you tried their tuna melt sandwich?"
Suzuna shook her head. She and her sister were alike in that, quick to change the topic to something less discomforting. "I wish my dorm had a large kitchen I can use to cook homemade food. Mom asks when you're going back to visit her anyways."
"Next weekend for sure. I'm almost finished with the manuscript of my book. If I can finish this weekend, both you and Mom will have the first look at it. It'll be great to get your opinions. Drat." Misaki frowned at the beeping that came from her phone. Thank goodness she had caved to Suzuna about getting a cell phone with more technological upgrades like the reminder from her calendar about business meetings. "I completely forgot I had a photo shoot today. I'm going to run late if I stay any longer. I'll see you soon, Suzuna. Good luck on anatomy!"
Misaki grabbed her iced coffee and her briefcase before rushing out the door of the cafe. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice when a running man bumped into her from behind, spilling her iced coffee all over her crisp white blouse. The running man didn't even look back at her, fleeing across a busy street with the oncoming cars honking at him.
"Stop him! Thief!" The shrill voice of a woman behind her yelled.
"Are you alright?" Someone asked, offering his hand.
Misaki barely registered the hand, her mind having been busy assessing the situation. The man who had bumped into her had been carrying a bright fuchsia pink purse, one she was sure was not his. Not that she knew much about fashion, but the purse certainly didn't match the dark clothing he was wearing. With a flash, she was chasing after the thief. She never heard the clicks of a camera following after her as she dashed after the thief.
The thief was just congratulating himself on such a smooth getaway when he heard screams behind him. Screams of fright, apparently. Not that they were of concern to him. The thief darted into an alley, prepared to haul himself over the wire fence blocking the end of the alley.
"Shit," he muttered as the wire ends of the fence caught on his pants. His deft fingers worked on unraveling the threads that had caught when he made the mistake of looking up.
"Hey, you! Stop!"
Furious amber eyes stared blazing at him. He would have sworn that he almost sensed smoke and fire stemming from the woman who had followed him. A brown coffee stain decorated her white blouse. The gears in his head surged up at once, trying to bring up the dim memory of the woman before him. The woman he had unceremoniously pushed out of the way? Cursing his luck, the thief managed to detach himself from the fence and tumbled onto the other side of the fence. Congratulating himself on the clean break, the thief picked up the pace. After all, the woman had been wearing pumps. There was no way that she could have followed him. Until he made the mistake of looking arrogantly behind him. The last thing he saw and felt was the flaming eyes of a demon with her high heeled foot aimed at his head and a flush of liquid in between his legs as his bladder lost control.
Misaki walked to her office in a brighter mood. She had returned the purse to the grateful owner who even offered to pay for a laundromat services. Misaki waved the offer off; it felt good to just return the purse even if she was already late for her meeting. Oh well, her client was just going to have to excuse her appearance.
Her secretary, Mrs. Hamiyama, looked up at her as she entered. "Ah, Misaki, the photoshoot-what happened to your clothes?"
Misaki waved her question off. "Just a little accident. What were you saying before?"
Her secretary frowned, "But my dear, you're having a photoshoot today. You can't take pictures with your clothes looking like that."
Misaki glanced down. She knew the brown stain on her white blouse was quite unprofessional and was hoping her dark suit jacket, which hadn't been splashed as much would be able to cover up most of the stain. "I don't suppose I left some clothes in my office?" She asked hopefully.
Mrs. Hamiyama shook her head firmly. Then suddenly her jaw went slack.
"Mrs. Hamiyama? Are you okay?" Misaki waved her hand in front of her secretary's face, who looked like she had seen a miracle. She pointed to something behind her.
A ghost? The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A couple of her coworkers had talked about the Igarashi building being haunted due to one businessman's suicide when the Igarashi corporation refused to do business. It was just talk, right?
Misaki whirled around and found herself staring eye-level at a broad chest. Her eyes glanced up, amber orbs meeting emerald ones. Human ones, she realized with a relief. The stranger was so annoyingly tall that she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, especially when he was standing so close to her.
"Hello."
The familiar yet unknown deep voice washed over her, sending a confusedly delightful tingle down her spine. His blonde hair was neatly combed into place and his lips were curved into an all-knowing smirk. Suddenly conscious of the large coffee stain adorning her white blouse, she pulled her jacket tighter. She could now see why Mrs. Hamiyama, despite her seventy years of age and five grandchildren, was ogling over one of the most handsome, if not the most handsome man she had ever seen.