Hello everyone! It's been…a while :/ I'm sorry for not updating for ages but SCHOOL. I'm alright though, don't worry!

This chapter was done before I read the end of the series so I'm making it canon; Misaki is going to be a diplomat and Takumi a doctor.

And for those of you who remember the fic (kudos to you btw) , I had a storyline with Tora/Chiyo but the writer's block is too painful and I'm not continuing with that particular one anymore. But that doesn't mean I won't try to introduce that again – but be a lot better at planning! In fact, it might come a lot sooner than you think…. I do hope you stick around and enjoy the rest of the fic regardless – AC xx

Misaki's POV

He didn't infuriate me as much as I made it out he did. And I'm pretty sure Takumi realised that. At least, I really hoped he did. Sure, he was my husband, but above all he was my closest friend as well.

I left today without him realising, brushing a feathery kiss on his lips as he snored gently. Takumi would never admit it, but caring for his family took a lot out of him. He rather enjoyed also practicing as the village doctor and I knew everyone loved 'Dr Usui'; even if they had a hard time saying his name sometimes!

I came out of my daytime pondering to see the English countryside zooming past through my train window. I'd cut my hair short for the wedding but had let it grown, like it had been in high school, and I pushed the long strands out of my face to peer out at the sheep. This was a world away from the busy metropolis that was Tokyo.

Suddenly my phone buzzed with a text. And it vibrated again.

7:40 – Misa-chan

7:40 – You should have woken me up

7:41 – I needed to kiss you enough for the week.

7:41 – It's not like you can live without them, don't deny it.

I was a diplomat for the Japanese government. And there wasn't exactly much use for me in a sleepy little English village. So I stayed with Takumi for the weekends and lived in London during the week. It wasn't exactly ideal but a much better option than me being stationed in Egypt, as I had been for 6 months prior to this. I type out a couple of messages quickly.

7: 44 – I'm sorry…but you were sleeping so peacefully

7:45 – You were like a work of art and I couldn't have moved you.

I wonder how he's going to react to this.

7: 45 – You can move me anyway you like. Just not away from you.

He's using full stops. This isn't a good sign. It's a few minutes before the next message comes through.

7:48 – You know, it's only 107 hours

What? I hate being confused. And my damnedly cute husband knows it.

7:49 – Yeah, only 107 hours till I can pick you up at the station.

Yes I know. I don't deserve to have him as the guy who wanted to put that wedding ring on my finger. I send him three words – no, not those three…oh heck why not.

7:51 – The countdown begins.

7:52 – And even though you genuinely do annoy every little cell in my body…

7:52 – I love you.

It's another 30 minutes or so before the train finally pulls into King Cross Station. I am greeted with people; people everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I love being at the Walker household and in the countryside…but there is just so much LIFE in the city.

I walk outside and deftly hail a taxi, asking him to take me to the house. Yes, the Walkers own a HOUSE in central London – one that's been under their ownership for at least two centuries. I once converted the property value into yen and then had to sit down to avoid fainting. Usui had worriedly come over at that point, but once he realised I wasn't seriously unwell, he smirked and gave me a water-soaked towel. Safe to say that I've never tried to think about that again.

It's the kind of property that London is famous for; a lovely, clean beige (or is it more like cream – sorry it's cream) façade of a building which is three or four stories high. There is an ornate gate in front of the door painted black and a plaque on the front of the house with WALKER emblazoned on it. I double tap this plaque for luck as the butler opens the door for me.

"Good morning Mistress Usui," he greets me, a warm smile lighting up his bumbling face. "I trust that you had a pleasant train ride down to London this morning?" I place my luggage down on the floor and take off my scarf.

"Yes, it was calm enough, thank you for asking Smithers," I smile back at him and hang my coat up on a hook.

"Breakfast is ready for you in the kitchen," he frowns slightly at this, "Is Mistress sure that she does not want to eat her meal in the dining room?" Oh yes I'm sure. The very first time I came to the Walker house for breakfast, a whole spread of food taking half of the table was laid out for me. Just me. Keep in mind that this is an 18 seat table. Following that wonderful episode, I had asked for a nice big bowl of miso soup and steamed rice to be prepared/brought in for me. My stomach was used to Japanese food and recently…well recently I wasn't doing too well with the strong smell of bacon. It made me feel rather ill. I haven't yet brought up the issue with Usui, mostly because I think it would be a waste of time.

Just the sight of the steam rising above my breakfast made me release a comforted sigh. I settled into a plushy breakfast chair and turned on the television while enjoying my first delicious mouthful of miso soup…

Oh shit.