10. Waiting for the Dust to Settle

Misaki slouched in her desk. At the front the class, their history teacher was going over… something, but to Misaki the lecture was little more than white noise. Only her mother's voice came in with any clarity these days, the same awful words from that night on repeat, like a song stuck in your head that no amount of distraction can get rid of.

"You're father has returned to us, Misaki. Please, come say hello."

Hello. The absurdity of it boggled her mind. Though no more than Usui getting into that car. Or her embarrassing cries for him to Wait! Stop!

How foolish she'd been. What had she been thinking?

The teacher paused to pass out papers. From across the aisle, Shizuko used the moment to look her way. Misaki pretended not to notice. Her friend's worried glances were getting easier and easier to ignore. At first, Misaki had felt bad about her silence, ashamed of her self-imposed isolation as she struggled to adjust with her friends hopelessly shut out. But now, as she felt eyes on her again for the tenth time that day, and who knew how many that week, that month, she found she no longer cared. They couldn't understand and she couldn't tell them the truth. Why wouldn't they take the hint and leave her alone already?

Sakura's daily note lay unanswered on her desk, wedged between her textbook and some blank sheets of paper she should have been using to take notes. Each note was progressively more desperate. They'd started out concerned: Misaki, what's wrong? But had escalated into near threats: You have to talk to us sometime! But Misaki didn't, hadn't, wouldn't.

Behind her, two boys were having a spitball fight. One of the wet little balls went wild and landed in some girl's hair. She gave a startled cry and the teacher shushed her. The boys laughed as she tried to pick it out.

Misaki said nothing.

When the bell rang, she collected her books and went to the student council room. Her little band of followers wasn't there. They had stopped coming after the first week, disappointed by her drop in work ethic and despondent answers to their homework questions. Now they mostly loitered in the hallways, looking for someone else to emulate. It made the council room more peaceful, which was all Misaki wanted.

Yukimura was the only one there when she arrived. Most of the other members found excuses to do their work somewhere else. It seemed that the apathetic Misaki was even more intimidating than the hotheaded one. She would have found that funny, if she'd cared.

Yukimura paced nervously in front her desk. Misaki had half a mind to leave before he spotted her, but in the end, went inside. If it was something important he would just come looking for her, and he did his best not to bother her unless it was.

She dropped her book bag and took her seat behind the desk before snagging him with her best glare. "Yes, Yukimura?"

"Uh, I have the monthly expense report for you."

He handed the file over. She took it and flipped through a couple pages before tossing it aside.

"Anything else?"

Yukimura wrung his hands like she'd seen Sakura do thousands of times when she became nervous.

"Just spit it out, please."

"Well, it's just… there's been an increase in, um, dress code violations? And the other council members and I were wondering if, uh, you were going to handle that. Or if… one of us should try—"

"I don't care."

"Oh." He bobbed his head as if he understood, but his face was a sad twist of confusion and distress. "I see. Okay. Then, I guess…"

Misaki dropped her head onto the desk, folding her arms around her in an attempt to block out the light, his words. She wanted to tell him to stop. How much clearer could she make it? She didn't care anymore, about any of it. She was tired. Physically. Emotionally. She had nothing left to give them.

Yukimura continued to ramble. As if, if he went on long enough, she might change her mind and take away the problem for him. But she didn't lift her head, didn't say anything as he continued to propose plans she didn't give a damn about.

Go away, she thought. Just go away.

Heavy tread in the doorway finally made her look up. Kanou stood there. He waved Yukimura out. "Let it go. You can talk about it later."

Yukimura gave another bobble-headed nod and retreated from the room. Misaki mentally thanked Kanou for his mercy, but then he came to take his little friend's spot in front of the desk and she realized he had his own problems to drop on her.

"What." She didn't even have the energy to make it a question.

Kanou's hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets, hoodie lowered over his forehead to make him look more menacing; he meant business today.

"You can't keep doing this," he told her.

"Doing what?"

"Acting this way. Neglecting your duties as president. Letting the student body have free rein. I saw guys from the sports club run by you in the hallway yesterday dribbling basketballs and you didn't so much as trip them."

Normally she would argue that, but like everything else nowadays, she just wasn't in the mood. And he was right; it really wasn't fair of her. She wasn't monitoring the school, she wasn't doing anything to keep people in line. There was a festival coming up and she hadn't organized a single meeting to go over safety regulations or time schedules.

She stood and gave him the expense report. Kanou took it automatically. Then he blinked, looking down at the file in his hand as if he couldn't understand how it had gotten there.

"What is this? What are you doing?"

"Resigning."

"What?"

She swung up her book bag. Ignoring his exclamation, she went on, "Naturally, you will take over for me. Since you came in second place in the student election, no one should have a problem with it."

She moved towards the door, but Kanou jumped in front of her, throwing out his arms to block her. The hasty action caused several papers to slip free from the file and they fluttered down to land in a crinkled mess around their feet.

"You can't be serious," he said, looking shaken.

"Of course I am. You're right. I'm in no state to be student president anymore."

"But this isn't what I meant! I wanted you to pull yourself back together, not give up!"

Usui had given up, she damn well could too. Misaki patted his arm, half in reassurance and half so she could push him aside. "You'll do fine."

"Damn it, Ayuzawa. What the hell is wrong with you?"

But she didn't answer, and the memory of the last time she'd beaten him up kept him from stopping her again as she walked out the door.

Work was slow that night. At one point, she looked up from serving a customer to see Shintani being seated to a table in the corner. She didn't go over, but his constant gaze on her while she worked made it clear he wanted to talk. When it was her turn for break she took him by the arm and ushered him out back, the cookie straw from his milkshake still caught between his teeth.

"What, Shintani?"

He took the straw from his mouth and fiddled with it. "Shizuko and Sakura came to me today. They're worried about you."

"I already told them not to be."

His smile said she should know better. "You don't really expect your friends not to worry just because you tell them to, do you?"

"What else am I suppose to say?"

Shintani shook his head. "Maybe, if you talked about it…"

Misaki rubbed at her abdomen, where, beneath the black lace of her uniform, bruises were still healing. "I already told everyone everything. Usui's gone. He decided to return to his family in England."

"That's not what I was referring to."

Misaki looked at him sharply. Shintani sighed. "Suzuna told me your father came back."

"You talked to her about it? When? Why?"

Shintani raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "She called me a couple days after it happened. She said you were really upset about it."

Upset…. the word hardly did justice to her feelings that night. After spotting her in the doorway, her mom had been just as calm as ever as she said, "You're father has returned to us, Misaki. Please, come say hello."

Her father had stood then. He seemed shorter than before. Weaker. Definitely older. He was missing most of his hair and had a potbelly. It took an amazing amount of willpower not to sock him then. But she restrained herself somehow, the shock keeping too much anger from coming through, maybe. Instead, she grabbed her mother's hand and tugged her out of the room, Suzuna following them. Her father wisely stayed put.

"What is this?" Misaki demanded.

"You're father has come back." Her mother said it as if this was the most normal thing in the world, a passing comment of little significance.

"You can't honestly be planning to let him move back in with us! After everything he did!"

"He's a changed man. He even brought some money he's been saving up, to help us."

Damn Gerard. Damn him to hell for sending her old man back here. No doubt he had paid him well to return. And she would bet a year's salary that that money her father had brought had come from Gerard as well.

"He wants a second chance."

"So?"

Her mother hardened her expression at Misaki's tone. "So as my husband and the father of my children, I owe him that."

"You don't owe him anything," hissed Misaki.

From beside her, Suzuna spoke up for the first time. "This isn't up to you, Misa-chan. It's Mom's decision. She wants him back, so we need to respect that."

Misaki looked at her mother. Between this and losing Usui... "Is this really what you want?"

Her mother looked tired, weak, and a little bit afraid. But there was also the smallest flicker of joy in her eyes. And relief, so much relief. Misaki was forced to remember that at one point her mother had loved this man, and might still, deep down, even after everything he had done to them.

"Yes, this is what I want," her mother answered.

So now she had her father back. He watched her constantly, questioned her constantly. Where had she been? Where was she going? He walked her and Suzuna to school and insisted on hanging out together on the weekends. He acted like an overprotective parent who loved his children too much—or like a man being paid to keep an eye on her. For over a month now, this had been her life. And she didn't see it ending anytime soon.

Shintani was watching her. He wasn't even chewing on his cookie straw, though it was still nestled safely in his grip. It took her a minute to remember what he'd even said to her.

"I'm fine," she told him, falling into her default mode when forced into a confrontation: denial. "It's not a big deal. He's even learned how to cook since he left, so he's been making great dinners every night. And he's got a job in construction near the house, so it's more income for us. It's for the best really. I don't even care much, you know?"

The slap came out of nowhere. It wasn't hard, but having Shintani strike her at all left her flummoxed.

"I can't believe you just did that."

He stepped as close as he could get without touching her. With sad eyes he whispered, "Remember what you told me when my parents died and I was trying to keep a brave face? You should never lie about being unhappy, Misaki-chan."

She gaped at him. She wasn't lying. Things were great, perfect. The alien had returned to his home planet and her father had returned to take back up the mantle as head of the household. Misaki no longer had to worry about her mother overworking herself or going hungry or not being able to pay bills. She had a husband again to love her, protect her, and make her happy. And with Usui gone Misaki no longer had to worry about him butting into her business, getting in her way and taking over just because he thought she was going too far. It was relief. She swore it!

So what if there was a ragged hole in her chest from where Usui had ripped out her heart with his departure. It was for the best. She understood the concession in order to gain peace. And so maybe her nerves shook whenever she felt her father watching her, whenever he hugged, touched, or kissed her mother like he had the right. If it made her mother happy, who was she to question the sincerity of his actions?

A laugh broke free. And then another. It was neither pleasant-sounding nor totally sane. Absurd she'd thought, and it was. The absurdity of it all was killing her in ruthless silence. Why had it turned out like this? She had fought so hard, done all she could. She should have won, dammit! She always won. And if not her, then at least Usui. They weren't perfect people, they had their flaws like everyone else, but they deserved better. She would get them better!

"Are you upset, Misaki-chan?" Shintani asked again.

She nodded, his face blurry through a sheen of tears. "Heartbroken and furious."

"I'm sorry for that. And for slapping you."

She wiped at her damp cheeks. "S'okay, I needed it."

"Do you at least feel better now?"

She laughed again. It came out as a hiccup. "Much. Thank you, You-kun."

He blushed. "Anything for Misaki-chan," he said, and popped the cookie straw back into his mouth.

The next day Misaki called in sick at work and went to see Igarashi after school. Instead of meeting in his office like usual, she was escorted to a baseball field out back where Igarashi was in the middle of practice. It was odd seeing him sweaty and dirty, surrounded by equally sweaty and dirty peers, but as he caught sight of her and strode over his arrogance still shone through.

"Surprise to see me?" she asked.

"On the contrary, it took you longer to show up then I thought it would."

"You know why I'm here then."

Igarashi gave a long-suffering sigh. "Of course I do. But my answer is no."

"No?"

"I'm not going to help you go after Usui. The Walker family is extremely powerful and well connected. Impossible to get near him, much less stage some kind of daring rescue like I know you want to. It's time to let go, Ayuzawa."

They were standing at one of the benches covering the sidelines, away from the others practicing their batting and catching techniques. He picked a bottle of water out of the cooler and cracked the lid. The bottle of was glass, not plastic, and had a fancy looking label on it. High-class to the end.

"I don't see why you won't help me," she said.

Igarashi took a sip of water, then replaced the cap and dropped the bottle into the grass with a thunk. When he looked at her, their glares matched.

"I won't help you because I don't want to be a part of your suicide mission," he said tightly. "Sending someone on a dangerous mission is fun, and highly enjoyable to watch. Sending someone on an impossible mission?" He rolled his eyes. "Predictable and messy. Not enjoyable at all."

"At least tell me what they're doing with Usui," she said. "You have to know that much."

"All I know is that it has something to do with his worthless brother."

Misaki was shocked by his distaste for Gerard. Wasn't he everything Igarashi praised for someone of his class?

When she said this, Igarashi made a noise of disgust. "Being born to privilege, a person is usually gifted with superior genetics from top parental matches, and with a great education those gifts flourish. But Gerard Walker is one of those unfortunate exceptions to the rule. He could have been born from the gods themselves and would still be incompetent."

Misaki's knee-jerk reaction was to argue that, but then remembered the first night she had met Gerard. He had injured himself just trying to cut an apple. And besides aiming a gun and directing his little agents, he'd no physical hand in apprehending Usui at all.

It was something to think about.