Ashes and Riches
By moonlight ray
Chapter 4
Katashi's Identity is Revealed!
Disclaimer: Maid-sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro, not me. But I can wish, can't I?
[A/N: So, I've gotten a review asking if this was a MisakixTora story. It's not. Just because I put them as the main characters, that doesn't necessarily mean they're going to end up together. I believe, that as a fanfic writer, that I shouldn't change what the author has already written. I only add on or insert things, not delete or change them. Sorry, to all you MxT fans, but this story isn't one of those. Don't let that influence your reading, though; please continue supporting this story and sending in much-appreciated reviews!]
"He's in there, I know it!" a reporter shouted at the camera. "I saw him; I'm sure of it! He walked inside!"
A whole mass of paparazzi crowded in front of Seika's front gates. Cameras were snapping rapidly, cameramen shoving each other aside, and voices shouting. The frenzied reporter continued yelling, though no one was paying him much attention. They were all too busy trying to get good footage.
"What's going on?" Misaki demanded, hurrying to the window. She herself pushed through a wall of bodies, making the hallway all the more cramped. "Why aren't you all in class?"
"Take a look, kaichou," a girl shuffled aside, making room to Misaki to see outside.
"What…" the words died before they even made it out from her mouth. Abruptly, she turned and stormed her way out from the crowd. It was early in the morning, and she had just settled in when the commotion started. Misaki trudged down the corridor and marched into Class 3-2. Usui was there, just sitting casually at his desk, staring off into outer space. He looked up when Misaki entered.
"Kaichou—" he began, a slinky smile sliding onto his face.
"What did you do?" Misaki interrupted him.
"Well, that depends. What did I do about what?"
"Ugh, I don't have time for this. Why are the reporters here?"
"I don't know."
Misaki quirked an eyebrow at him, disbelieving.
"What? Don't believe me?" Usui was an arm's distance away from her before she knew it, drawing her closer. "Shall I prove it to you?"
"Stop!" Misaki yanked herself away from him, trying to hide the furious blush spreading across her face. "I don't want to play your games. Tell me what you did to draw the reporters here."
"I told you, I didn't do anything. The reporters here have nothing to do with me." Usui was now standing with his back facing her, staring out the window at the chaos below.
Misaki's breathing slowed, and the adrenaline drained away. "What do mean?" she asked suspiciously.
"Exactly what I said." Usui turned around. Every trace of the playfulness before were gone, his face like stone.
"But it can only be you, can't it? Who else could've drawn all this attention?"
"No clue. Plus, what have I ever done that would've lured the press here?"
"Let's see… jumping off a building, stalking people, breaking and entering—"
"When was that?"
"Miyabigoaka. And that's not counting all that sexual harassment."
Usui chuckled.
Misaki steered back to the original topic. "Then if it's not you, who else could the media be all over?"
"Dunno," Usui replied. Though something about his expression made Misaki think that he did know.
"Who do you think, then?"
"You're asking my opinion?" Usui's eyebrows shot up, and Misaki couldn't tell whether he was mocking her or if he was genuinely surprised.
Misaki heaved a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I guess,"
"I think it's that Katashi,"
Katashi was alone in his classroom when Misaki arrived, Usui in tow. All the better, Misaki thought. She could confront him without drawing any attention. "Katashi," she began. The boy turned to face her, one hand buried deep in his pocket, the other hanging limply at his side. Misaki felt that same wave of déjà vu again. "What's going on?"
Katashi shrugged, his face a passive façade.
"Why are the paparazzi here?" Misaki prodded.
"I wouldn't know," he said stonily.
"I think you do," Misaki stepped forward, growing more sure of it by the second. Even though Katashi tried for an apathetic aura, his nervousness and agitation still leaked through.
He began to rock back and forth on his heels. "I don't," he insisted.
Misaki looked him in the eye. She could see her own face reflected in the pool of hazel. "We need to get rid of the press. Don't you agree?"
Katashi gave a terse nod in response.
"They not only ruin our safe learning environment, but also intrude on our privacy here. I, as Student Council president, need to maintain that environment. I can't do that if I don't know how to get the reporters to leave. And in order to get them to leave, I have to know why they're here. Why are they here?"
Katashi ripped his gaze away, a scowl crossing his face. He said nothing.
"Katashi, please." Misaki hated the pleading tone her voice took on, but she didn't have much of a choice. "Why are they here? Who are they looking for?"
Still, Katashi remained silent.
"Is it you?"
Katashi shook his head, as if he himself wasn't quite sure of it.
"Then you won't mind if I throw you out into the courtyard, will you?"
Katashi whipped toward her, panic in his eyes. "You wouldn't dare," he growled.
Usui, hovering in the doorway, watched the scene play out with amusement and admiration. He barely noticed when a few other people came and joined him.
"Why?" Misaki inquired. "Why are they looking for you?"
Katashi didn't say anything.
"What's your family name?"
At the sudden question, Katashi started. Narrowing his eyes, he ventured, "Why do you want to know?"
"If you tell me, I won't let the media know you're here. If you don't, I swear I'll push you outside, right now. Which is it?"
Katashi gritted his teeth, knowing she had him.
"What is your family name?" Misaki repeated.
Finally, after a brief moment of still silence, he answered. "Igarashi,"