Chapter 2: Some new kind of pick-up tactic.

Here's a little science fact for you: the atom was once considered to be the smallest object in the world, until researchers found it could be further split two stages down into quarks, and we all thought it can't get any more microscopic than that. Well, today, it was discovered that there exists something even smaller: the fragments of Saeri's heart after its utter pulverization at the hands of one Akashi Seijuurou.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" It's a word that Saeri rarely uses on herself, but after the tragedy she had arguably just brought upon, it's what she deserves. She'd delete the last 30 minutes of her life if she can, but as it remains a scientifically impossible task, she settles on deleting the next closest thing: her picture of the redheaded child of God.

Muttering under her breath, she pulls her phone out and taps till the screen is flashing the shot of him with his soup. Just half an hour ago it had filled her stomach with butterflies, the twitching carcasses of which are now threatening to flow out of her throat in a gush of bile and shame. It's a beautiful picture and erasing it feels like a different kind of heartbreak on its own, but Saeri will not be able to look at it again without having the impulse to fling herself off a building.

Are you sure you want to delete this photo? This action cannot be undone.

Yes, please.

If only the same can be done to her feelings.

But while she cannot delete her misery, she can certainly share it with her dear brother, who she knows has just been stiffed by some girl a week ago. And now that the epic date with Akashi she had planned is cancelled, the rest of her day is free to meet up with him. Which means that she can strike 'lying to her friends' off the list of horrible things for the day. Silver lining, guys!

While calling Hiroki up, she surveys the mass of pedestrians pouring out of Harajuku Station and into the shopping streets on the other side of the road. Harajuku is the geographical equivalent of a burst pinata, but Saeri is seeing everything in shades of grey—even the rainbow-haired girl decked head to toe in Lolita fashion who just teetered past her. She tries relieving the weight in her chest with a sigh, but it barely helps. Maybe in an alternate universe, there's an alternate her holding hands with an alternate Akashi, sipping fancy lattes at a fancy café in Omotesando or getting crepes with too much whipped cream from a stall in Takeshita Street…

The ringing stops. "What do you want, twerp?"

"Hiroki!" she whines, starting to feel the tiniest bit better. Perhaps she does have a slight over-reliance on her brother. Not that she'd admit it to the two imps who are Chiaki and Rikiya. "Where are you? Can we meet? I have so much to tell you!"

"About your school trip?" Her brother sounds annoyed, which isn't actually anything new. "Can't you just tell me next week when I'm back home?"

"No, not about the school trip, but about something that happened in it. It just happened."

"Wait, what?! What happened?"

She can practically hear Hiroki lacing up his boxing gloves. "No, no, no, nobody hurt me, relax. I'm fine."

A sharp breath of relief. "Okay, so what happened?"

"I mean, I'm not fine and someone did hurt me but not in the way you're—"

"Saeri, get to the point. I'm busy."

"Well, my apologies, Mr Prime Minister." She pulls her phone away briefly to frown at it. What's his deal today? The rising annoyance she has for his tone has gotten rid of the sad warbling that was going on with her voice, so she can spell the next part out freely, "I finally told Akashi-kun how I feel about him."

"You confessed to dad's boss's son?!" Finally, a reaction she's looking for. "Wow. How did it go?"

"What do you think? Not good! You should know, the same thing happened with you with your girl last week."

"Actually, my thing—never mind."

"Yeah, so I'm chin-deep down in the dumps right now," she sulks. "Where are you? I'll come find you and we can think of ways to tell mom and dad how they'll never be grandparents because we'll never love again."

"As much as I'd love to do so, I can't," he sighs once more. "Not today."

Saeri's mind stops like a scratched record. Even her own brother is blowing her off! "But it's Thursday! I know you don't have classes today."

"It doesn't mean I don't have a life. I'm out with my friends."

"Which ones?" She perks up slightly. "Hot Jun? Can I come then?"

"No, not Hot Jun. It's uh, Regular Jun. And a couple of other guys."

"Can I still come, though?" Regular Jun she can deal with, even though the guy does tend to ask oddly personal questions every time they happen to meet. "Please? I lied to Chiaki and Rikiya about meeting you."

"I'm not bringing my twerp sister along to a beer garden with my friends."

"Please?" the girl puts on puppy-eyes, hoping that it'd be channeled in her voice. "Don't let your beloved little sister wander alone on her first high school school-trip."

"I'm sorry, Saeri," Hiroki's baritone rumbles with sincerity. "Not today. And it sucks, what you're going through, but I really have to go. I'll call you this weekend, okay?"

"Fine." Now it's Saeri's turn to sigh. There's no use flogging a dead horse. "If I haven't already died from a broken heart by then."

"You're being dramatic. That means you're fine."

And nothing but dial tones follow after.

But Saeri isn't fine. Her heart's been ground up into fine powder and blown all over the compound of Meiji Shrine, which she cannot even turn her head to look at right now without the fear of bursting into a river of tears. She has to get away from the area as soon as possible, distance herself from the memories as much as she can. Yes, she'll probably see Akashi again when all the first-years are herding up for the buses back to Kyoto tomorrow, but at least she'll be in the comfort of her squad by then.

Maybe she'll stroll through Harajuku after all. Retail therapy has never failed her.

With one last deep sigh, she steps to the traffic light, ready to cross.

And that is when she sees him.

Sugiyama Hiroki.

Smiling and holding hands with, not Regular Jun, but a pretty blonde lady with hair like sunshine.

In fact, Regular Jun is nowhere to be seen. None of his friends are.

…

Hiroki the liar!

Here comes Saeri's second slack-jawed moment of the day—it's always the ones you love, huh? The first thought that comes to mind is karma. Her brother has done onto her what she has done onto her friends—which somewhat takes the guilt off in an own-medicine-tasted kind of way. Her second thought is a prayer for her parents, who have apparently raised not one but two pathological liars. Who can they trust now?

And her third? The very natural, primal urge to tail her brother and his secret lady friend.

Saeri has ballet from her formative years to thank for her light step, which is proving to be very useful when you're stalking your brother (or anyone, for that matter). She also has the Harajuku crowd to thank for shrouding her in anonymity. It never thins, not even on weekdays (especially when it's already the first week of summer vacation for some schools), so it's fairly easy to shadow someone unnoticed in a mob where half of the people around are dressed in three colours more than you are.

Incidentally, it's also fairly hard to keep your eyes on your mark when they're swarmed by people as well.

Are you kidding me?! Get out of the way! she screeches, in her mind, at the back of the guy who's been blocking her visuals on the targets for the past stretch of blocks. He's easily two heads taller than everyone around them—like Hiroki—and has a blinding crown of golden hair—like his lady friend—which makes it hard for her to get a clear line of sight on them. Make a detour already!

As if on cue, the guy dips sharply into a nearby shop, and Hiroki and Friend are the most prominent figures in the sea of bodies again.

Amazing, is Saeri actually a telepath? Like Akashi? Maybe sharing this common trait will bring them together—no, eyes on the target, Saeri, eyes on the target!

Said targets are now pausing in the middle of the street to consult each other, splitting the stream of passers-by like a rock in water which gives her a clear view of their giddy, flirtatious smiles.

A strange, prickly heat begins sparking in Saeri's chest.

If you haven't gathered from their phone call or Chiaki and Rikiya's disturbing, ridiculous taunts about their relationship, the Sugiyama siblings run close. Very close. Always have been, even after Hiroki's move to Tokyo for university three years ago. Despite the five-year age gap and a history of childhood brawls between them, Saeri tells Hiroki as much as she would a personal diary, and up till just now, she thought it was the same for him.

Akashi shattered her heart, and now Hiroki is lighting the pieces on fire.

That's it. She's so gonna call him out.

Well… After his date, maybe. She doesn't want to ruin his girlfriend's day. She looks like she's enjoying herself, grinning blissfully at her brother without the vaguest clue about his lying ass.

Saeri almost feels bad for her. She looks like a nice, modern Tokyo lady. Drop dead gorgeous with a confident, winning smile. Probably smart too, if she's a schoolmate of her brother. She, or any other member of her gender, is casted pearls before swine like him, who—looks like he's about to turn towards her.

Oh, no.

They're heading her way!

Jumping a foot up in the air, Saeri scrambles to the nearest cover she can find, which happens to be the corner of a grimy alley branching out from the street they're in. A passing couple throw her an odd look and whisper between themselves, but with her heart thundering in her ears she doesn't notice.

They couldn't have seen her, right? Not when they were all up in each other's faces like that? She presses a sweaty palm to her bag, waiting to feel her phone vibrate with a call from Hiroki demanding to know what the hell she's up to.

…

But all is still, which calms Saeri enough for her to peek an eye out of the alley.

Hiroki and Friend's conversation from before must have been about getting crepes, because they're now making orders at a crepe van they passed.

She slams a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

Unbelievable! She's watching her dream date unfold! How much more does she have to suffer?

She has to get closer to see if they're getting crepes with too much whipped cream. Hiroki better not have gotten chocolate banana, because that is what she would've ordered if Akashi didn't take a hammer to her hopes and dreams.

With adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Saeri lifts herself up from the crouch she had sunk into and is about to step out when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

"Looking for me?"

"Wha—?" Saeri whips around and her jaw falls slack for the third time today.

Kise Ryouta is saying this without hubris and you must believe him: it sucks to look as good as he does.

Sometimes.

When you look the way that he does—meaning you can win a whole pageant with your headshots alone, which was what actually happened and how he landed his modelling gig—all eyes turn to you like flowers to the sun, following you wherever you go.

And sometimes, they happen to take the rest of their body along for the ride too.

Senpai, I think I'm being stalked, Kise pounds into his phone, hoping to relieve the growing shiver in his spine. AGAIN!

He doesn't expect Kasamatsu to offer any words of concern or advice considering how his last seen is an hour ago; he just needed to share the nagging unease bubbling in his guts with someone. And maybe give his captain and the police a lead should he mysteriously fail to turn up for practice the next day.

It's like when that chick from Ishida High followed me home after practice, Kise is just short of jabbing his thumbs through the screen, but he really needs to make it obvious to whoever's watching him that he is in contact with someone—a warning of sorts, if you can call it that. I swear, I'm having the exact same creeps.

The creeps started when he turned round the corner into Takeshita Street while, naturally, drawing the attention of everyone within a six-foot radius. Kise wears the stares of people like a second skin and would normally go about his way unbothered, but one of them—a girl—really stood out. He first noticed her because he thought she had a pretty nice outfit when he happened to catch a glimpse: a white top, chambray bottoms and strikingly red shoes. Then he started seeing the same outfit in every reflective surface he'd passed. From window glass and bike mirrors to sunglasses and garishly oversized belt buckles on display, the girl was always there in the background.

Is always there in the background.

Kise knows this feeling—it's happened before: he is being followed.

A buzz from Kise's phone shakes him out of his thoughts. Miraculously, it's a reply from Kasamatsu: Idiot, they're probably just heading the same direction you are. Don't get so full of yourself!

Kise wants to argue against the very callous, unperceiving comment because Kasamatsu obviously has no idea what it's like to be stalked, but perhaps his captain has a point. Takeshita Street is a straight road after all, and maybe the girl just wasn't keen on any of the stores they passed—he wasn't, for one.

There's an easy way to confirm this.

Kise sharply turns into the next shop down and is instantly swallowed by pink walls and the adoring gazes of a group of middle school girls. A tweenage accessories store isn't his top choice for a stakeout, but it'll have to do. He plants himself before a revolving display and pretends to mull over a scrunchie while glancing anxiously at the shop's entrance. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his mouth drying out, building himself up to confront the girl the moment she walks through it.

The striking red shoes step into view, and Kise is just ready to ask her what she thinks she's doing and if she's prepared to eat a cease-and-desist letter…

But he doesn't get the chance to.

Instead, all Kise does is watch as the white-chambray outfit glides past the entrance and out of his view from the shop window.

So… Kasamatsu-senpai was right, the truth hits him as the scrunchie falls from his hand. Of course, it's a relief that he doesn't have to deal with another inconsolable girl in tears and a potential lawsuit. His chest is finally light again—but it's also getting pretty hot around his ears. It's quite embarrassing to realise that he's been nothing but a damn narcissist the whole time. (Even if he did have every right to be one, given all the blessings he's born with.)

Oh, well. At the very least, that's a chapter closed. He's free to get on with his day.

From the corner of his eye, Kise spots the store assistant making her way over—makeup retouched and shirt a little less buttoned—so he quickly darts out to the street before she can ask if he needs help. Back in the throng of bodies, he slides his phone out to text Kasamatsu that everything is under control (his senior doesn't need to know that he's right, only that he's alright) but pauses when he finds the white-chambray outfit in his sights again.

She's now a couple of stores ahead, rooted to the ground for some reason he has yet to conclude. Kise barely has the time to ponder the possibilities before she's panicking and scuttering to press herself against the dirty wall of the alley next to her.

These are actions straight out of a stalker's textbook. Kasamatsu was wrong after all—Kise should've believed his gut from the start! Evidently, she's been tailing him and only just realised that she'd lost him in the crowd. That must be why she's in such a fluster.

Kise's chest swells again with the bravado he had in the shop. It's the only day of the week where he doesn't have basketball training or remedials, so he'd woken up with a plan: wrap up a 40,000-yen shoot for an online shop and spend the rest of the day wandering around Harajuku—freely. It doesn't sound important but it was what he wanted to do. And now some fan who thinks she loves him is out to ruin his day.

With his hackles raised, Kise swaggers over and taps her on the shoulder. "Looking for me?"

"Wha—?"

"You're looking for me, aren't you?" his words come out more tersely than intended, but he doesn't have a mind for courtesy at the moment. The girl turns around to face him fully, her mouth left hanging from the question she couldn't finish, and when her chocolate eyes latch onto his golden ones, Kise's brain stalls and his tongue freezes in his throat.

He finds himself thinking: a girl this pretty wouldn't need to chase after him.

"What? Hold on a sec, who are yo—" the girl cuts herself off with a shake of her head, as if catching how rude she sounds. "I'm sorry. I mean, do I know you?"

Her brow furrows deeply and the confusion spreads to Kise. Did he make the wrong assumption, after all? Or did he get the wrong person? No, it can't be—he is certain of what he saw. His chest sparks with annoyance. "Stop playing dumb, of course you know me!"

"Huh?!"

She looks so utterly clueless that Kise's resolve chips away. Something tells him not to elaborate, to hear her side of the situation first before offering his. He feels like he's caught in a Mexican stand-off from some corny American TV show.

The girl narrows her eyes, as if studying his face and for the first time, Kise is not comfortable being under the scrutiny of a gaze. Slowly, her bewilderment morphs into certainty, and she breaks into a small chuckle.

"Oh, okay. I see what this is about." She nods to herself with a knowing smile. "You're trying to hit on me, aren't you? Is this some new kind of pick-up tactic?"

…

It's now Kise's turn to yell: "What?!"

The girl continues, smug from having it all figured out. "Look, you're very handsome but I kind of already have someone—"

"How did you get that—I'm not hitting on you!" Kise fights past the incredulity to shriek at her. Where does this lunatic get off?! Who is this girl?! What is going on?! He is no stranger to ridiculous people but even Moriyama-senpai is occasionally in touch with reality. This girl has her marbles flung all over the freaking floor! "You were stalking me! I saw you following me all the way here from the start of Takeshita Street. What do you want?!"

She gasps at his accusation, bristling like she has never heard anything so affronting. "I wasn't following you! I don't even know you! Who do you think you are?!"

"Well, you were clearly up to something! Bit of a coincidence that you were right behind me every time I turned around!"

There are now four clenched fists between the two of them.

"I wasn't stalking you! I was stalking—" the girl interrupts herself again, and her eyes blow wide open as if she just recalled something important, like leaving the stove on at home. She then darts out of the alley and into the street, with no regard whatsoever for the conversation she was having with Kise, who is honestly having a hard time keeping up. This girl is batshit bonkers. Kise, still shell-shocked and rooted in place, cannot decide if he's confused, astonished, exasperated or embarrassed.

"Ah, they're about to leave!" he hears her say, presumably to herself. Her exclamation tugs at his attention, and both answers and raises questions. She must be referring to the people she was actually tailing—but who are they?

Driven by curiosity, Kise steps to the girl, who doesn't spare him a glance as she has her eyes locked onto two figures further down the street ahead. One of them is a tall, reassuringly-built man with dark hair, the colour of which is revealed under sunlight as brown. And the other is—

Kise balks. "Nee-chan?!"

A/N: What's Liar, Liar without second-hand embarrassment from our dear Saeri?! I was genuinely surprised to get reviews because I was sure the KnB fandom is six feet under, so I was incredibly happy to get and read all of them! This one's to all you real ones out there.

(Speaking of fandoms, I'm massively obsessed with BNHA now. A Hawks fic is in the works...)