From: Kise Ryouta
To: Sugiyama Saeri

(Today, 11:30am)

Two periods of Math and more... Life is horrible.

.

A short laugh escaped Saeri as she viewed the attached picture of the blonde whose handsome face was scrunched in agony, its angle revealing that he had taken it from beneath a desk. Slowing her steps up an empty staircase, she tapped in her reply.

.

From: Sugiyama Saeri
To: Kise Ryouta

(Today, 11:32am)

Two periods of breaks (courtesy of an absent teacher) and more. Life is awesome.

.

Obviously, it would not be complete without a picture of herself as well. Thus, she paused right before the stairway landing, raised her phone, snapped a funny face, and resumed walking while checking the self-shot for approval before attaching it, silently and unashamedly happy that it looked good, although it would have been better if a passing redhead did not get himself caught in the frame.

Wait.

Her smile dropped instantly as she blew the upper right corner of the background up, realising from the figure's position that she would be crossing paths with Akashi Seijuro on the landing between their respective flight of stairs.

Unfortunately, her attention came too late in dislodging itself from the screen and the brunette found herself walking into a potted plant settled innocuously in a corner of the landing. In her shock, her hands lost their grips on the gadget, which fell onto the floor and skidded away with a clatter.

Of course, everything had happened right before the descending basketball captain's dual-coloured eyes.

Please ignore me, I'm just part of the plant right now. Move on, move on... Saeri pleaded desperately with every deity in the universe to have the redhead continue his way without interruptions, for facing him right now, after her moment of embarrassment and especially after his verbal murder in the basketball clubroom, would be torture on the most unbearable level. After counting down, she unclenched her eyes and finally tore her nose away from the tickling foliage of the plant.

Only to see the Council President standing by patiently.

So, basically, he has been watching me trying to fuse with a potted plant for fifteen seconds?! Saeri had no objections to burying herself in the soil of said plant, only if she could move her mortified body.

"Here," Akashi said, holding her phone out. His face betrayed no intention of condemning her as a freak or a lunatic, but she could not decide if it was a good thing or not.

The hand which accepted it had the elegance of a malfunctioning robot. "T-Thanks."

"Pleasure," although he sounded anything but.

Saeri felt heat and blood racing to the top of her head as his ever-piercing gaze moved slowly, deliberately, torturously from her face to her torso. Dizzy from anticipation, she flinched heavily and nearly let out a yelp when his hand rose without warning.

"There is dirt on your shoulder," he informed tonelessly, dusting the top of her left arm with frightening gentleness.

It took several light pats before the brunette could jerk herself backwards and out of shock to relieve the redhead of his chore.

"Sorry, I'll do it myself," her eyes shot briefly to the darkened patch on her pale grey uniform blazer, which then received violent swipes as she looked up to meet his gaze once more. "Thanks again."

"The discipline master is patrolling the corridors above," Akashi said, turning his form away, "I suggest that you tighten your tie and lengthen your skirt before proceeding up."

"Y-Yes."

And as enigmatically as he had appeared, the Council President left the landing without even sparing her a second glance, finally disappearing around a corner on the floor below while she flustered to carry out his advice. In between pressing the knot on her throat and tugging on the hem of her skirt, Saeri realised—with both relief and disappointment—that their encounter in the basketball clubroom had no lasting impression on Akashi Seijuro, who saw repudiating people as a commonplace and natural occurrence in the process of his life.

Liar, Liar

Whole Nine Yards

Indecisiveness was of no acquaintance to Akashi Seijuro.

However, when it came to the management of school events by his Student Council, he often found himself hesitating to make cemented judgements due to the tendency of the assembly to divide itself and organise a riot against anything and everything that was proposed. While his orders were and will always be undisputable and obeyed unquestioningly, democracy commands that he make minor concessions and accede to the consensus of the majority so as to maintain his undoubted status as a fair and cooperative leader.

And now, with the highly important and upcoming Awards Day, the Council Room was strife with diplomatic chaos as every single detail, from the decoration of the school gymnasium (which also served as a hall) to the seating arrangement of the guests, was debated with the intensity of a boxing match. In this particular moment, the itinerary of the performance line-up, or more specifically the dance segment, was contested.

"The Classical Dance Club insists that the stage be set up with trees, a hanging moon and continuous theatrical smoke. And castle-shaped backdrop as well. "

"That's insane! How will the runners be able to re-assemble everything for the following performance in time?!"

"Outrageous. Just what kind of dance requires such a grand setting?!"

"Swan Lake. A very classy piece which will be sure to impress the minister, if I do say so myself."

"Swan Lake?! For a seven-minute performance?! Unfeasible!"

"Shijima-san has made it clear that they will perform none other."

"Then get rid of them! As I have initially proposed, the Street Dance Club should perform instead."

"The Street Dance Club?! As their name suggests, they dance street dance. Ballet is obviously the more sophisticated and impressive choice. And hello, we decided on the Classical Dance Club because the minister himself has said that he's looking forward to watching our prize-winning ballerinas dance."

"Don't delude yourself, he obviously said that for perfunctory purposes. We should not only cater the guests-of-honour, but everybody in general, meaning that the performances should be appealing and fun for teenagers as we make the majority of the guests. Do you really think that people our age would rather watch some boring ballet show than some cool and fun hip-hop?"

"This is Rakuzan. Surely we are intelligent and cultured enough to appreciate Swan Lake."

"I am simply being realistic. Teenagers are teenagers. Do you want the ministers to see our students dozing off?! Don't forget, Awards Day will be held on a Sunday morning. Nobody will be enthusiastic about coming to school on a Sunday morning to hear speeches and sit through the entire prize presentation, which I remind you, will be three hours long."

"I agree with Takada-san on this. The line-up should be entertaining for the students, who are after all the people that Awards Day is for."

"Of course. And Kirishima-san is way more flexible and agreeable than Shijima-san. She will definitely not make unrealistic demands."

"Then we can ask Shijima-san to shorten her dance and get simpler props."

"You go ask her, then."

"Are you belittling me?!"

"Akashi-san, what do you think?"

The moment his name was consulted, every single mouth in the room promptly sealed themselves, no matter if they all belonged to second and third-years. Akashi wordlessly surveyed the anticipating lot in a single sweep before removing his crossed fingers from his lips and setting them down onto the table.

"I personally believe that the nature and style of the performance should not matter as much as the performers themselves." His collected voice echoed across the silent room. "Excellence will naturally be exemplified from those who are excellent even if they should perform inferior tasks."

A council member began to part his lips, but glued them shut once again when he drew the attention of lordly eyes.

"I will consult the leaders of both dance clubs before determining which will be the worthier one to take the stage." The school bell chimed and he arose from his seat, stepping towards the door. "Although, my stance will lean towards the Classical Dancers given the expressed wish of the minister to see them perform."

"Session dismissed." He paused briefly at the frame without even turning to address his seniors. "I want no more arguments. Get along."

And so, without conscious effort, a new unspoken maxim was established henceforth in which every single council member fulfilled by greeting their usual opponents with smiles and compliance.

"Get out of my way, Shijima. I have no reason to entertain you."

"Oh, but I do."

Sighing in defeat, Saeri pressed her weight against a wall, arms crossed and eyebrows raised with patronizing expectancy. She jerked her chin out. "Spit."

"The dance room will be occupied by my club on Wednesdays until Awards Day is over, with effect from this week onwards."

"Enlightening." The brunette nodded as though she'd just been taught basic subtraction, then proceeded to lift herself off the white-washed support. "Well, but you should tell that to Chiaki. I'm not the President."

"Wait."

Saeri exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes before slumping back to her former position. Despite her earlier nonchalance, caution began to grow within her as the straight lips of the heiress curved upwards deviously.

"I think I know why Kise Ryouta chose you now," she announced, mimicking her rival's posture with unreadable shrewdness.

"Oh, wow, pray tell."

"It's because he's stupid."

...

"Is that your best attack?" Saeri could help but guffaw. Bending forwards slightly, her speech was littered with giggles and sardonic amusement. "I thought better of you, Shijima."

"I mean it literally," the apathy which Mariko displayed abraded the brunette's smile while her own grew increasingly malevolent.

"I read the interviews he gave," she raised a hand to exemplify how unimpressed she was, "and honestly, I cannot believe that a high school student can be so unintelligent. I mean, seriously, even a kindergartener can give answers with more depth. Even elementary schoolers can make more profound statements than him. In all honesty, have you even heard your boyfriend speak?"

Saeri kept silent, her smile vanished entirely.

"'Tell us something that you're not good at.' 'Oh, I'm not very good with stuffs that make me use my head...'" It was now the heiress's turn to laugh, albeit hers was pregnant with derision. "I kid you not, those are the actual words that he said. If I ever uttered something like that and got it published, I would willingly commit seppuku ten times over. And is he retarded? I mean, seriously, because nobody has a speech impediment that pervasive."

Although slightly blown by the answer Kise was perpetuated to have given and knowing that she was saying things like this to avenge her loss on Saturday, the brunette could not stop the white-hot rage from bubbling and scorching her insides.

"Kise Ryouta is a flower vase. There's nothing in him. He's lucky to have that face and perhaps his basketball skills because those brains of his will get him nowhere. He is not bright." Pausing and raising a hand to her lips, Mariko corrected herself apologetically. "Wait, my mistake. He doesn't have brains. No wonder he got together with you, because you're probably the only person who can tolerate that level of stupidity given your own pathetic state. Seriously, you must have no dignity to jump at any chance thrown towards you."

Don't hit her, don't fall for it, Saeri chanted mantras of all sorts in her mind and dug her fingers into her arms to relieve the itch they had. You're above that, don't stoop to that level of low.

No.

The writhing fury she harboured had already broken its chains. How could it not when such nonsense was being spouted right before her?

"Actually, you might be the one getting short-changed." The heiress continued, staring triumphantly straight at the storm she brewed herself. "Although you're really negligible, I have to acknowledge some of your capabilities. I mean, you are admittedly clever, and though vulgar, your dancing is not bad. Don't you feel yourself getting dumber when being around that featherhead? I suggest—"

Her condescending speech was interrupted by a resounding slap across her left cheek, which attracted whispers and stares from everybody who witnessed it.

...

"You slapped me."

However, instead of shock and anger, Mariko sported a smile full of chilling satisfaction. "Just what I wanted. Now, don't blame me if something bad happens to the Street Dance Club, or you."

Saeri's scowl delved deeper. "What do you mean?"

The heiress had to admit that the street dancer's dark glare was unnerving, but nonetheless retained her exultant smirk. "The Principal knows that the visiting minister is looking forward to watch my club dance, that's why we were chosen to perform. But now," she pouted pitifully while pointing at her cheek, "this will develop a bruise, and I will be so devastated that I will refuse to attend school and dance practises from now on. So what will the Principal have to do? Pull us out and break the promise he made to the minister."

An icy pike stabbed hard at her chest as Saeri knew where this was headed.

"And whose fault is it?" Mariko continued, stretching her arms out for effect and elucidation, "the Street Dance Club's Vice-President, who had slapped me because she was jealous of my club's success. You cannot deny it, not with this many witnesses. But of course," a scheming glint flashed across her eyes, "I may be forgiving if you—"

Another slap silenced her, but this time, it was on her right cheek and it elicited no gratification from her.

The ballerina nailed a flummoxed glare onto the perpetrator. "What are you—"

Yet another slap.

Followed by another.

One more.

"You're really underestimating me, Shijima," Saeri said, smirking with ire as she relished the shell-shocked, tender-red face of the detestable scum before her. "Don't get me wrong, I would have slapped you even more if it didn't hurt and stain my own hand."

"Don't you care what happens to you?" Mariko screamed in disbelief, pressing a palm onto her right cheek, "or your club?"

"My club is innocent, even the school is fair enough to see that," her arms folded themselves as she talked down, resentment and disdain grinding at her voice. "And I don't care if I even get expelled, because I would rather die than lower myself to beg you. I will be the one committing seppuku ten times—no, a hundred times over."

The brunette took one step closer, provoking the other to take another back.

"Kise-kun is the brightest person I know," she started with alarming tranquillity, her stare heightening with disgust as she regarded the saucer-eyed girl. "Perhaps not academically, and he may truly act and speak on impulse at times, but he possesses perception and insight far deeper than anybody else. Most importantly, he has a heart that glows brighter and warmer than the Sun itself. I am humbled to meet him," she confessed with so much sincerity that it tugged at her own heart, "I am grateful to know him."

An inexplicable sense of dread robbed Mariko of her will to even speak, unbelieving that she could be oppressed and dominated so unfairly by the advancing brunette.

"The darkness that fails to comprehend the light seeks to extinguish its shine, Shijima," pity was almost evident, and the ballerina realised that she could back up no further.

"You don't even deserve to sing his praises," Saeri spoke straight into the eyes of the heiress, paralyzing her with a tone weighted with consequence, "so don't you dare say anything about him again."

She then thundered onwards, imparting the flabbergasted ballerina with nothing but cold fear. Having lost its victim, her relentless glare could only be directed to anything and anybody who dared to step within its periphery.

"A-Akashi-kun!"

His name as uttered by her voice caused the fuming girl to whip around immediately, seeing red as permed brown tresses bobbled towards crimson.

"Akashi-kun, that girl, that horrid, hateful girl slapped me!"

Akashi landed an impassive stare on the heiress who clamoured for his sympathy by shedding pearls of tears. He then drew it to the distance, where he noted with interest that a familiar pair of eyes more lethal than any weapon was pointed directly at him. With disdain, he felt the ballerina step fearfully behind him when the other girl stormed back towards them. "A-Akashi-kun, s-she—"

"Yes, I slapped her. Five times." Saeri planted her feet right before the two, not the least bit affected by the redhead's presence, which for the first time, mattered nothing to her. With defiance, she bore her eyes into his. "If you want me to cry and plead for leniency, forget it. I rather transfer schools than compromise my dignity."

"The gall of her! Akashi-kun, show her—"

"Silence."

...

Even Saeri was grounded by the gravity of his voice. Eyeing the redhead with caution, she watched as he proceeded to turn behind and speak down to the equally timorous brunette. "Mariko. I hereby inform you that the Classical Dance Club will be dropped from the programme for Awards Day. You are to cease all activities associated with it."

...

No matter how she translated it, the blasphemy that he'd just proclaimed was incomprehensible to the Ballet President. "W-W-What...?"

"A pity," the way he slimmed his eyes by a fraction curdled her blood and froze her veins. "Those who view glow-worms from afar will not know that they possess neither heat nor light. The minister is blinded by the glory of your club, and it will bring him great disappointment should he discover just how disgraceful its President is. It is in the better interest to save him, and us, from such potential grief."

Unmoved by her gape of utter devastation, Akashi then turned to the other gobsmacked girl. "Instead, we shall impress him with our other promising dancers. If you will, Mariko, excuse yourself. You have no more business here."

"W-W-Wh... How..."

"My orders," he hammered her with a warning stare of finality, "are absolute. Leave now."

And so she did with amazing speed despite the violent trembling of her legs.

With a sweeping scan across the entire corridor, he dispersed every single curious onlooker as well. When privacy could finally settle itself between him and the still-gaping brunette, he resumed his address towards her.

"Kise Ryouta is a person I acknowledge and respect," he explained, deciding to allow her to fill in the gaps herself. His eyes and voice darkened subconsciously. "I cannot allow such a vile being to slander his name as such."

He overheard everything. No wonder. Saeri could only nod speechlessly, her mind still a whirling white slate.

"The Street Dance Club will now work with the Student Council until Awards Day. Duly inform your President," he instructed, and with a minute, nearly undetectable lift of his lips, added, "justify my decision."

"O-Of course," she finally recovered enough sense to reply. Concluding that the best course of action for her at the moment was to make her leave, she bowed dazedly to signify her departure, and still under the influence of numbing shock, absentmindedly power-walked away without thanking him.

Fortunately, Akashi allowed her folly to slip, a new form of intrigue manifesting within his mind as he watched her rapidly retreating back.

From: Sugiyama Saeri
To: Kise Ryouta

(Today, 4:25pm)

Please be more careful with your words from now on.

.

From: Kise Ryouta
To: Sugiyama Saeri

(Today, 5:01pm)

...?!

It took her two nights of consecutive mental encores of the incident before Saeri realised the meaning and significance of Akashi's choice of having her club, another two to decide if it translated to his acceptance of her, and one to celebrate the (self-declared) fact that yes, it was the first step of their advancing relationship. By Saturday, her scathing anger for the Shijima heiress had disappeared entirely from her heart, replaced by effervescent joy.

Although inevitable, it was still momentous and so the brunette had devoted the entire night to fantasizing about their soon-to-be-established mutual love and the process that would bring them towards it. The majority of her fantasies often involved her catching his eyes with her glamour, and thus she vowed to always appear her best in every situation in case he were to chance upon her, which should be quite often considering how Fate had already bound its red string around them together anyway.

With such an exhilarating night, it was no wonder that Saeri was left sleepier and more lethargic the following morning.

"Sae... Sae... Sae!" Nobuko had to tug on her comforter repeatedly for it was pulled back over her daughter's head after every time. "Wake up! It's morning already!"

"Itz Sunday, kaa-jan..." the little brat drawled, burying her face into her pillow to shun away from the glaring sunlight that had slipped in.

"I told you yesterday, we are having guests over today!"

"Hmmmn..."

"Kaa-chan is making some mochi and sweets," the housewife strode to the windows to unleash the full power of the Sun into the room, effectively eliciting more consciousness from the writhing girl, "but I'm missing matcha for taste, so I need you to go to the convenience store to get a can for me."

"...Get it yourself..."

"I'm busy making the dough! The guests will be coming shortly!"

"...Then get tou-chan to buy them..."

"He's busy preparing his work."

"...Then don't use matcha..."

Her irritation exceeding tolerable levels, Nobuko grabbed a fistful of comforter and yanked with all her might, stripping it off her daughter completely.

"SU-GI-YA-MA-SA-E-RI!"

Saeri yawned for the umpteenth time and rubbed the back of her head, messing up her already messy bun. Her sandaled feet dragged themselves across the rough tar of the street, which grew increasingly difficult for her eyes to focus on even with the help of her black-rimmed spectacles. Although she wore contact lenses for the majority of the time in the name of vanity, a short trip in the morning to the convenience store should not require the hassle of putting them on, and so she had left the house with the oversized glasses slumping down her nose bridge, complementing her bum-like appearance which she achieved with a pair of cotton shorts and an old loose-fitting t-shirt, which had the annoying tendency of exposing her brastraps as they often slipped down her shoulders.

In colloquial terms, she was looking incredibly 'unglamourous'. Even the cashier had raised an eyebrow when she sauntered into his shop.

But at the moment, she couldn't care less.

Yet another yawn escaped as she neared her home, and Saeri was forced to pay more awareness to her surroundings when a sleek, black Rolls-Royce had purred past, missing her barely-sober form by a foot.

Road safety aside, her tired mind whirred into activity as the automobile stopped right by her gate, and she watched confusedly as a suited man got out from the driver's seat with controlled haste to open the passenger's door, bowing submissively when a richly dressed redheaded man stepped out, adjusting his expensive suit with more poise and refinedness than she'd ever witnessed in her life. He should be around tou-chan's age, she observed as he took assured steps to the main door of her abode and pressed the doorbell, but where have I seen his face before?

The warm smiles and courteous bowings that greeted him from within her house told her that he was the guest that her parents were expecting, and Saeri was about to move her feet again to rush back to deliver the green tea power to her mother when a second figure appeared out of the car.

Nobuko said 'guests', didn't she?

And Saeri now knew why the man's face was so familiar to her, because his son was now standing by her front gate, dressed smartly in casual but obviously luxurious clothes.

Akashi Seijuro.

Upon sensing eyes on him, he turned indifferently to his left, blinking once as he glanced through the familiar girl's appearance, which highly suggested that she had just gotten out of bed.

...

Of course, Saeri chose the most logical response possible: scream, turn, and run.

Bunta had to stealthily ask the bewildered but amused chauffeur for information as to where his daughter had headed in order to avoid letting his boss know about her stunt, assured from personal knowledge that his son would not mention anything given their stoic relationship. As such, the portly man only had to bear the shame of having the younger Akashi witness such embarrassment as he lugged his own undignified offspring home by the shirt, reprimanding her the entire way and threatening to cut her allowance if she performed anything else that would ruin his pride.

Saeri made her father sneak her up into her own room for freshening up to avoid the eyes of their new guests, who were patiently waiting in the living room with pressuring silence, before allowing him to dart into the kitchen to pass the ingredient to his smilingly nonplussed wife. He then brought the tea (the finest within their household) she had brewed to them.

"I am truly sorry to have Akashi-san come all the way here just to retrieve a document," Bunta lamented with painful regret, bowing his head as he took the couch opposite his boss.

"No matter, Bunta," the regal man said resolutely while lifting a steaming cup to his lips, "it was the incompetency of the new secretary to misplace a file which was absolutely necessary for the summit in Tokyo. It is a relief to have the original copy in your possession. If the summit was not held tomorrow, I would not have to bother your family on a Sunday."

"Bother?! No, no, no," he flapped a wrist, "we have nothing on today, anyway! The only 'bother' that bugs me is the fact that Boss had to make such a detour."

"No detour at all. Your house was along the way."

Their attentions were then directed to the approaching housewife, who padded in with a bowed back and polite smile and a tray full of appealingly-presented rice cakes.

"I hope that these are to your tastes," Nobuko said, serving the males with kneeled legs in order of superiority. She nodded graciously at the boss's acknowledgement before settling beside her husband and turning to the redheaded teenaged male opposite.

"My goodness! Akashi Seijuro-kun has sure grown up very handsomely," she praised, lifting fingers to her chin. "Very excellently too, from what I heard from Bunta."

He offered a small smile purely out of courtesy under the scrutiny of his father. "Thank you."

Her husband nodded with enthusiastic agreement. "The first-year Council President and Basketball Captain of Rakuzan High, a school swarming with elites, and the only student to receive special education. Ah, looks, capabilities, eloquence and charisma. What a brutal combination of perfection!"

"You flatter him too much, Bunta," the older Akashi said, not the least bit moved by their blatant admiration. "Excellence is simply natural and required of him.'

"Aw," the general manager slapped his own thigh with jovially, "like father, like son!"

"Back then in kindergarten, our Saeri would come home boasting to us about how lovely Seijuro-kun was," Nobuko gushed fondly, laughing at the memories. "Prince Seijuro, she called you, and she would force the whole family to listen as she narrated every single thing that you did, and how she was going to become your queen in the future. Oh, that girl was absolutely smitten!"

It was then the wooden staircase in the adjacent corridor emitted a loud thud, which sounded uncannily like a body falling down after slipping on its steps.

...

Why, kaa-chan, why...? Saeri, now showered and dressed appropriately, bit her lips to suppress the roar of desolation from escaping, fancying herself to be weeping with anguish. The only consolation she could find at the moment was in how the safety barrier shielded her mortified form away from curious eyes.

...

Reluctantly surrendering to the expectancy of the crowd, she inhaled through her nose deeper and more audibly than she intended and picked her aching body off the wood, her walk as every bit arduous as her smile.

"Please excuse me for not being able to greet you upon your arrival, Akashi-san, Akashi-kun," she bowed deeply not only for courtesy, but to conceal her face from the younger guest's stripping gaze. With tremendous effort, she padded over to sandwich her father, cursing inwardly that she got the seat closest to the other teenager and angling her body away from him as much as possible.

"Saeri has grown up beautifully as well," the older Akashi commented, to which the girl beamed and nodded with grateful modesty despite being incredibly intimidated by his severe sternness, which was impossibly heavier than his son's. "I heard from Bunta that she had topped the cohort of the normal first-year stream in Rakuzan, and that she is the Vice-President of her extra-curriculum club?"

"Yes, but those can barely be considered as achievements when compared to what your son has conquered," Nobuko said, albeit proud of her daughter nonetheless. She then politely excused herself to serve a plate of dessert and a cup of tea to the chauffeur waiting outside, and in the worst turn of events for Saeri, her father then also decided to invite his boss to the study to run through the document once more, explaining several improvements he had made.

Once the adults have evacuated the living room, Saeri never realised how fascinating her indoor slippers actually were.

...

Neither did she realise how loud the ticks of the hanging clock could be.

...

For that matter, her awareness for her surroundings has never been so acute before.

...

What the hell do I say...?! What the hell do I do...?! She mentally assumed the positions of both interrogator and criminal as her eyes remained devoted to the ground and away from his, which she unnervingly knew were on her. Unable to handle the awkward pressure any longer, she shot up to address him with a smile she hoped was natural and friendly.

"D-Do you have anything you want to do?" She asked, simply because there was nothing else to say.

He regarded her with the calmness of a sleeping lion. "No."

"Oh, okay..."

Why the hell are you being so difficult?! The brunette whimpered despite herself, and her skin and neck crawled with alarm when he set his empty plate down and rose to inspect some of the family portraits decorating the room, praying that she looked fine in every one of them.

"You have been dancing since young," the redhead stated rather than inquired, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she deduced which picture he was looking at.

"Yeah," she answered, glad that her nerves were beginning to settle down, "I started with ballet at seven, but realised that I prefer modern dance in middle school."

"I see."

Sensing an opportunity to advance, "so when did Akashi-kun started playing basketball?"

"Before middle school." Done with viewing, he returned to his seat. "I found it fascinating how an activity could require both intellectual and physical skill."

"I see," she said, although restraining a silent retort that every sport should require said skills. "A bit like dancing then, which not only improves your body and your mind, but your character as well."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," the dancer affirmed, her body shifting forwards keenly, "I'm sure the part on physical fitness is self-explanatory, but dancing stimulates co-ordination between your mind and body and so keeps the former active, plus, you'll always be visualising new movements, the variations of which are endless. Dancing also raises one's self-confidence and tenacity, and the feeling of performing with your crew is simply indescribable. Ah," realising with a snap that she was rambling too much, her eyes quickly shot towards the listening male bashfully, "I guess I got carried away..."

His red and gold eyes slimmed slightly, and Saeri thought that she saw them in a teasing light, "I suppose I must learn how to appreciate the beauty of dance."

Her mind whizzed back to the day when she had lectured him, which immediately compelled her to lower her head once more. "I am sorry if I had been rude to you in the past, Akashi-kun...'

...

"But," she peeked up for she could not conceal the honesty of her words, "I must say that I am not sorry for speaking up for my passion."

She was beginning to grow accustomed to the perpetual ambiguity of his face. Raising a hand to rub the back of her neck, her mouth curved into a smile. "And I think I forgot to thank you for giving that bit- I mean, Shijima what she deserved. Um," her grin faltered as she finished rather lamely, "...thanks."

"Hn," for the first time, she saw him pull a soft smirk—nearly a smile if she dared to think—onto his lips, and the sight both stilled and poached her heart in slow warmth. "It was of no matter."

Saeri was incredibly thankful to have the adults enter the room again, because she would have been comatose with mesmerisation for the redhead otherwise. The older Akashi announced that they would be making their leave, and the entire group proceeded towards the main door of the household.

"One more thing, Bunta," the conglomerate owner mentioned after he'd worn his leather shoes, reaching into his suit pocket to draw out an envelope, "your family is invited to my main residence in Tokyo for my birthday celebration."

Although already expecting it, the manager was surprised by the personal invitation, but nonetheless accepted the thick card with graciousness.

"A loyal, competent worker who has served me for over two decades. How can I treat him with distance as I do with the others?" The redhead stepped out to the waiting doors of his luxury car, "I look forward to your attendance."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Akashi nodded, eliciting bashful smiles from entire family. He then followed after his father, but not before imparting a final stare to the dazzled girl.

The Sugiyama's watched until the black Rolls-Royce had disappeared completely from their humble street before turning back to their living room, with Bunta lightly nudging his daughter.

"Sae, tou-chan was just thinking, can you perhaps become Akashi Seijuro's future queen?"

A/N: THIS IS THE FINAL UPDATE UNTIL DECEMBER. I'M SORRY. I REALLY CAN'T.

Typing this chapter took me on an emotional roller-coaster ride! I mean, first I was absolutely furious with Shijima for bashing Kise like that (okay, fine, I was indirectly bashing him I AM SO SORRY I HAVE REPENTED), then amused and anticipative with the Akashi scenes. PLEASE TELL ME IF I KEPT HIM IN CHARACTER OR NOT, PLEASE! Writing his father was also quite a challenge too. I know Akashi once said that he will kill his parents even if they(he) opposed him, but I figured (and deduced from a flashback scene in the manga) that Papa Akashi can be even more enigmatic and scarier than Akashi himself, so I have portrayed Akashi as somewhat controlled by his father in this chapter. Plus, he should be brought up with manners, so I wanted him to thank the Sugiyama Parents out of courtesy and yet somehow maintain his power. Was I successful, I hope? Do you guys even understand what I'm trying to say? OTL

And I guess you can expect bigger Akashi involvement from now onwards, given the events of this chapter.

And before I get tasered to death, Kise REALLY did say that he's not good with things that make him use his head. It's in the KuroBasu CHARACTERS BIBLE if you guys don't know about it yet. Oh and I forgot to mention (and I don't really think this is necessary?), the song Kise and Saeri sang(killed) in the previous chapter is the second OP of the KuroBasu anime.

Few disclaimers:
1. The scene where Saeri was caught utterly unglam by Akashi was inspired by a similar scene in the Taiwanese drama, In Time With You (which is pretty good so check it out if you're interested!).
2. I paraphrased two phrases from materials I have read before. I can't really remember where I got the "darkness and light" quote which Saeri said, but the one that Akashi said about the glow-worms is taken from a play called The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster, a play which I have studied in the past. Here's the original quote: "Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, / But looked to near have neither heat nor light."

And once again, thank you Marquise de Nile, princess thieves of heart, Devilish-S, hokkyokukou, Raika-chan, x10TIMEx, hlflores, animelover1990 for the reviews, and all those who have read, followed and favourited! Every email from I receive just makes my day a whole lot better! :') Sorry, but I don't really have the time to do review replies now, but always know that you guys have my full appreciation. :'D

Sorry if this A/N is kinda rushed and snappy... Really tight on time right now...

Thoughts? :)

P/S: I think I forgot to mention this, but as of this chapter Liar, Liar is taking place in between the Interhigh and Winter Cup. So Akashi still has his "long" hair.