AN: Part two! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or alerted.

Disclaimer: Junjou Romantica belongs to Nakamura Shungiku, et al. I make no profit from writing fanfiction.


Misaki had never seen such a serious expression on his friend's face. Toudou's mouth was a flat line, lips pursed so that they appeared white. His eyes were narrowed, and his forehead wrinkled. "Takahashi," Toudou said gravely. "The Kan's next release was delayed."

"Delayed?" Misaki dropped his literature text on the table. "But I picked up that manuscript myself! No way!"

Toudou took the seat across from Misaki, pulling a snack bar out of his pocket. "The announcement was just posted on the official website." He took a bite of his food, all the while maintaining an air of indignation.

Misaki didn't blame him. He'd been looking forward to the upcoming Friday's magazine release for ages. It was the beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak week.

"Well, that's just shitty," he grumbled, shoving his textbook across the table. "What a week."

"Ah, that's right." Toudou looked curiously at him. "How's staying with your brother?"

"It's good, really, it's fine. It's great seeing my family. Just—"

Toudou nodded. "I know what you mean. Whenever I go visit my parents, my mother's always too overbearing. Once you get used to living alone, it's hard to go back to the way it was before."

"I wasn't alone," Misaki corrected without thinking.

"Have you talked to Usami-san since you left?"

No, actually, he hadn't. Three days had passed since he'd packed his bags and allowed Usagi-san to drop him off at his brother's house, and not once in those three days had Usagi-san so much as sent him a text message. Misaki knew he was probably just busy with the manuscript and the filming, but it still stung.

"Not really," he admitted. "But he's been pretty busy."

"I'm kind of excited. It'll be interesting to see his episode!"

"Episode?" Misaki blinked. He… actually hadn't thought of that. Eventually, whatever the camera crew was filming back at Usagi-san's home was going to be on television. How weird would that be? By then, Misaki would be home again. "Huh."

Toudou laughed. "It'll be weird for you, huh? I still don't get it, though."

"Get what?"

Toudou crammed the rest of the bar into his mouth, crumpling the wrapper into his fist. "Why you couldn't hang around."

Misaki's heart skipped a beat. "I guess I'm just not celebrity material," he said, laughing uneasily.

"Don't worry about it," Toudou said. "I'm not either. I'd be pretty boring to watch on television." He paused. "Unless it was something about The Kan. I'd be all over taking a part of one of The Kan's movies!"

Misaki let out a reverent sigh. "That would be heaven."

"I bet we'd even get to meet sensei," Toudou was sparkling. Then, "Oh, but you already know him!"

"Not really. I just see him for work stuff. Though…" Come to think of it, it wasn't like Ijuuin-sensei wasn't always inviting Misaki around. Of course, with the, er, recent developments, Misaki was reluctant to take up any of those offers. But maybe, he thought, eyeing his friend, maybe if Toudou was there… "You know, he invited me over. You, too."

"HE DID WHAT?" Toudou was up on his feet, hands slammed down on the table, before Misaki had time to so much as blink. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ah…" Why hadn't he…? Oh, he remembered. The interviews. Toudou had been interviewing at the time, and Misaki hadn't wanted to distract him. "I'm telling you now?" He smiled beatifically.

Toudou sank back into his chair, eyes sparkling. "Ijuuin-sensei's house must be amazing. It has to be, since it's his!"

Well, yes, Misaki understood that logic. "It looks so expensive! You can really tell just from his house that he's done well. Though it gets pretty messy when he works." Just like with Usagi-san. Writers, Misaki thought, exasperated.

"We should go," Toudou insisted. "I—to be in sensei's home—" He couldn't seem to get the words out around his excitement.

"I'll text him and see if he'd mind if we stop by." Misaki pulled out his phone and fired off a quick message. Then he set it down on the table. "I doubt he'll reply any time soon, though. I mean, if something's up with the manuscript, he might be super busy—" A shrill sound cut him off. Misaki and Toudou met eyes, then looked down at the phone in unison.

It was from Ijuuin-sensei.

"Guess he's not too busy," Toudou mused. "What's it say?"

"It says," Misaki began, "please come by whenever you'd like. I'll be home all day." What the hell? Why did he have to respond so fast? That was weird, right? Wasn't it weird?

"You just have one more class, right?"

"Yeah, in about," Misaki glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes. It'll be over by two."

He and Toudou said goodbye with the agreement to meet at the front gate following the end of Misaki's class. As he left the library, hurrying to the economics building, Misaki had this odd, sinking feeling, like he was doing something wrong. But it wasn't like he was lying to Usagi-san about where he was going, and he wasn't even going there alone. Toudou would be there! And Misaki himself still wasn't entirely convinced that the issue was with Ijuuin-sensei. Maybe he was just thinking strangely. Just because one guy had gone after him in that way didn't mean every guy who said more than two words to him would be the same.

The issue, Misaki figured, was entirely with Usagi-san.

Focusing on economics was impossible. Hell, focusing on anything felt impossible, what with the weird thoughts swirling 'round Misaki's skull at hyper speed, leaving bits and pieces of uncomfortable feelings and aggravating images in their wake. The only thing that snapped him back was the professor mentioning the Usagi Beverage Corporation, which, of course, had nothing to do with the man in question, but the context sent Misaki off into another daydream, an unpleasant one that involved Usagi-san's penchant for drinking to excess when he was alone and miserable. Would he? What if something like that was aired on Fame?

No matter what Isaka said, Misaki didn't need to be around to ruin the author's reputation. He had the sneaking suspicion that Usagi-san could manage that one all on his own.


Misaki texted Toudou as he headed toward the main gate. He only spared a split second to humor the sinking feeling in his stomach when he checked his missed calls for the nth time and didn't see Usagi-san's number. He's just busy, Misaki thought fiercely, shoving away the doubtful voice in the corner of his mind that reminded him of all the other times Usagi-san was busy but still found a spare moment here and there to send a text or call or anything.

He was not some lovesick girl who needed reassurance every five seconds. He was an honest-to-god Japanese man, and with all the confidence that entailed!

Kind of. Maybe.

"I'm beginning to think I'm the source of all my stress," Misaki muttered, taking a seat at one of the benches just outside the gate. His phone beeped to alert an incoming message: Toudou, saying he was on his way from the library.

Maybe he should be the one to contact Usagi-san? Knowing the man, he was probably sulking over the fact that Misaki hadn't contacted him at all. They really were a pair of idiots, weren't they?

"Oi, Takahashi!"

"You ready?" Misaki got to his feet. "It's actually pretty close to Usagi-san's place. We can take the train."

"I spent the entire break reading the last Kan volume!" Toudou looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I am fully prepared for sensei!"

It struck Misaki just how lucky he was to have a friend like Toudou during the train ride; they babbled on, a constant flow of excitement, and all on a subject that Misaki had never had the opportunity to discuss with anyone before. The Kan was a huge part of his life, and even though he'd tried to get Usagi-san to appreciate it (as well as his brother, and his high school friends… He still had high hopes for Mahiro, though, a few years down the road!), it hadn't ever worked in his favor.

As they approached Ijuuin-sensei's house, Misaki watched with amusement as Toudou's eyes grew rounder and rounder, his mouth slack. He had to drag his friend down the walkway to the front door, snickering. "He's a really easy going guy," Misaki promised. "And he's so cool about his fans! He even has all his fan letters in these really nice binders."

They looked at one another, then to the house, then back to each other, letting out a collective sigh of adoration: "Sensei's the best…"

Ijuuin opened the door before Misaki had a chance to press the key code in. He looked completely put together, finely dressed and with a gentle smile that showcased his handsome face quite nicely. Misaki went red, and some small part of him hated himself for that reaction.

Not that Toudou was any different. He'd gone first white, then red, then his mouth dropped completely opened as he attempted to stammer out a, "Hello, sensei!" with very little success.

"It's good to see you both," Ijuuin said, brushing his hair from his eyes. "Come in, I have some cakes ready."

"He made cakes," Toudou whispered, one hand pressed to his chest and pure bliss bursting across his face. "I think my heart just exploded."

The inside of the house was so neat Misaki had to double-take. He'd never been in Ijuuin-sensei's house when it hadn't looked like the aftermath of an earthquake. The man must have recently cleaned. When he'd picked up the manuscript not five days before, he'd seen hell through the crack in the door, though Ijuuin, most likely embarrassed, hadn't let him inside.

In the kitchen, "I heard about the delay, sensei," Misaki began. "Did something go wrong with the manuscript?"

"Ah, that?" Ijuuin handed them both plates and directed them toward the sitting room. "It was actually an error at the printers. The magazine will be out next Wednesday." He laughed, a bit self-deprecatingly. "Of course, I had so little trouble with this installment that I was just waiting for something else to go wrong."

The man was so sincere, so easy to talk to. He let Toudou's fannish enthusiasm roll off his back like it was nothing, looking over at Misaki every so often with a discrete wink, like they were both in on some great secret. Toudou didn't seem to notice, and Misaki didn't think it was cruel in nature, so he responded in kind with a smile every time – and a deep flush that spread across the bridge of his nose and down the line of his neck, unstoppable.

When Toudou took a moment to breathe, Ijuuin looked over at Misaki. "I heard about Usami-sensei. Fame is a big deal. He must be pleased."

Misaki's smile felt a bit less true this time. "It is," he said. "It seems like it's a lot of work, though."

"I look forward to watching it," sensei said, "especially if I'll get to see Takahashi-kun."

"No, no, no!" Misaki held up his hands, flustered. "I'm staying with my brother during the filming. Er—it would be weird, right? I don't think I'm interesting enough to be on a show like that."

Toudou laughed, nudging Misaki with his shoulder. "You and me both."

"I find that hard to believe." Ijuuin was still smiling. Misaki got the odd feeling that the man's face hadn't changed at all since they'd walked in the door. "Takahashi-kun has always been interesting to me."

The moment seemed to go sideways. Toudou squeaked, managing to play it off as a cough. Misaki tried to laugh it off, but when Ijuuin said things like that, he couldn't help but feel something was off. He probably shouldn't think like Usagi-san here, that every guy who spoke to him was 'that way', but was it normal to pass comments like that to other guys?

"No way," Misaki said at last. "I'm totally normal. I'd put people to sleep!"

Ijuuin leaned forward, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. "You're very modest, Takahashi-kun. It's one of your charms," he looked at Toudou, "don't you think?"

Oh god, what the hell was going on? Ijuuin's flirting was just in his head. There was nothing weird about it!

The look on Toudou's face, the way his eyebrows were slowly but surely creeping toward his hairline and the embarrassed reddening of his cheeks, dealt a severe blow Misaki's certainty. Rather than continuing that line of thought, Misaki scooped nearly half of one of the delicate looking cakes into his mouth, his cheeks bulging comically.

"Yes," Toudou said flatly, shaking off the awkwardness, "you can just tell by looking at him how charming he is."

Misaki, mouth too full to swallow comfortably, shot Toudou a dark look. Ijuuin-sensei laughed and chucked a napkin at him, and all at once, the atmosphere of the room calmed.

It's all in my head, Misaki reassured himself. The important thing was remembering that.


The sun was already dropping down behind the line of buildings that framed the horizon by the time they left Ijuuin-sensei's house. Toudou suggested they grab some dinner and head back to his place to catch The Kan on television.

Misaki agreed on the condition that Toudou paid for the beer.

"He was a lot different than I expected," Toudou said, dropping the twelve pack down on the table. His apartment was small, a studio that was little more than a room with a third belonging to the kitchen and the rest some mash-up of the living area and Toudou's bedroom. The table was low and barely big enough for two people.

"That's what I thought, too, the first time I met him." Misaki ripped open the box and handed Toudou a can, then grabbed one for himself, wasting no time in popping the top and taking a swig. He kind of wanted to ask Toudou what he really thought – not just of Ijuuin as the author of their most important series, but also as a person. Did he think there was something… a little strange about him? Did Toudou feel the same sense of unease that Misaki had, however brief a time it lasted?

But he couldn't. He didn't want to, because asking a question like that suggested that Misaki would have to explain the rest of it: Usagi-san, the last time he'd spoken with Ijuuin-sensei…

It was one big mess, and like hell did Misaki want to weigh his mind down with all of that.

Instead, he neglected his dinner in favor of his drink, content with the idea of spending his night doing nothing at all.


"Something wrong, Usami-sensei?" Aikawa handed him a mug of coffee, pausing just long enough to flash a coy smile at the camera.

"Misaki," he said, lowering his voice. Aikawa caught the name and leaned close, wary of how well the cameras could pick up sound. "He hasn't contacted me since he left. And he's not answering his phone."

Aikawa sighed, standing straight again. "He's just busy, I'm sure, sensei."

"I'm calling his brother," Akihiko declared.

"You've not gotten much done today…"

"Of course not." He'd not gotten much done period. It was like Misaki had walked out the door, Akihiko's ability to write in hand. "I'll be on the balcony."

Another sigh, but Aikawa didn't seem to have the drive to stop him. "Ten minutes, all right?"

Akihiko grunted his reply and stepped out into the cool night air, sliding the glass doors shut behind him. First, a cigarette – it felt quite like he'd smoked himself raw already, but that didn't mean anything as far as Akihiko was concerned. He lit up, took a drag, then went straight for his cell phone. It rang a few times, then a voice picked up, panting like the speaker had run to get the call: "Usagi-san?"

"Takahiro, good evening." A slow exhale. "Is Misaki there?"

"Misaki?" Takahiro echoed, surprised. "No, he's out for the night. Did you try his cell phone?"

Out? Out where? With who? Akihiko ashed his cigarette so hard it broke in half. "He's not answering."

"Not answering?" Takahiro didn't sound concerned. "Well, he's probably just having fun. He and a friend were going to visit that guy, you know."

"That—that guy?" No, actually, he didn't know. "What guy?"

"The one that does that manga he's so obsessed over," Takahiro said, exasperated. "I mean, I'm glad Misaki found a friend with the same interest, but I really just don't see the appeal. It seems sort of… well, it reads almost like a shoujo manga! Manami agrees," he finished, as though having his wife's opinion on his side made whatever he believed a fact.

But Akihiko stopped listening right after he mentioned that manga. Misaki went to see that bastard mangaka?

But with a friend, he reiterated. Misaki wouldn't have gone alone.

"Thank you, Takahiro," he said. "I was just curious."

"Sure, anytime. Want me to tell him you called?"

Akihiko thought about that for a moment. Then, "No," he said slowly. "No, I wouldn't worry over it."

They said their goodbyes, and Akihiko hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket – only to pull it right back out, and type in a single line: I'm coming to find you. He scrolled for Misaki's number and sent it off, jamming the SEND button with his thumb so hard the joint ached.

Looking over his shoulder, Akihiko watched the camera crew interact with Aikawa. There were just so damn many of them, crawling all over the house and interfering with his work in the worst possible way.

Nothing to it. He had plenty of experience in escaping persistent people. This would be no different.


Misaki woke up on Toudou's floor to the sound of vomiting. It wasn't the best way to greet the morning. He was just pulling himself to a sitting position when Toudou stumbled out of the bathroom, face pale and drawn.

"Never," he groaned, "we are never drinking again!"

"Why does this seem so familiar?" Misaki's voice sounded raw, and the unpleasant taste in his mouth, now that he was aware of it, made himwant to puke.

"I have class in an hour," Toudou whimpered, collapsing into a heap on his futon. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Oh hell, classes. What day is it?" Misaki scrambled for his phone, unlocking the key pad. But before he could bring up the calendar, an alert popped up: fourteen unread messages. Fourteen? Who in the world would—

They were all from Usagi-san.

Misaki's stomach turned upside down. Puking was definitely in his future. It looked like Usagi-san had started trying to contact him about an hour after they'd started drinking. His phone was set on vibrate, so he hadn't noticed it. "Oh, man," he mumbled, scrolling through the messages. The first few had seemed pretty relaxed, but as they went on, Usagi-san sounded more and more panicked. He always overreacted, so Misaki wasn't too surprised, but the last message made his blood run cold: I'm coming to find you, it said. Nothing else. The time was marked as 12:02 AM.

Dropping the phone, Misaki rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to fight off the pounding in his skull and the churning in his gut. On the one hand, Usagi-san was likely on a rampage, running through the city on some mad escape dash from the camera crew as he searched frantically. On the other, Misaki was hung over.

With a deep, resigned sigh, Misaki picked up his phone again, scrolling for Usagi-san's number.

No matter what he did at this point, he couldn't help the feeling that he was already in deep shit.