A/N: Hey, all! Thanks again for all your lovely reviews and support on the last chapter. From now on, I'll just be replying to all the reviews in the next chapter in the A/N, right below (at the end of the chapter). 8D Not much to say, so without further ado…
Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.
Dedication: I'm just going to dedicate this chapter to Fyerigurl, who's TCAFS just makes me want to die of shame at my own writing sometimes. And her Shigohara, who I love, and I'm going to make the rest of you love it too, gdi.
The following week, Nanao hardly caught a glance of Atobe at all.
It was strange, really, to suddenly spend so much time apart. What had started out of a necessity to convince the rest of their peers that they were, indeed, dating, had developed into something of a habit and routine for Nanao. She was used to Atobe picking her up on half of the mornings, of him visiting her or she visiting him during breaks and lunches, of waiting for him after school during tennis practice, whilst she completed her own council duties or worked on homework.
He had grown to be such a constant – and expected – presence in her life, that this week proved sincerely bizarre.
Keigo was, apparently, ridiculously busy. He slept late and barely woke up in time to arrive at school, much less spend time to pick her up; during lunchtimes, he was always, always sleeping (by barging into the council room), or browsing some documents that Nanao couldn't understand when she managed to glance at them. He'd even taken to skipping tennis practice after school – something that was practically unheard of.
Saturday after school, Nanao had worked up the curiosity and courage to inquire upon it to Oshitari-kun.
"This happens every year, around this time," he'd said, and Nanao's brow had quirked in question. "It's about time to start compiling quarterly fiscal reports for the company – and Keigo's father likes to see how well Keigo can do on it. Sort of like…a level test, I suppose. It has Keigo a bit frazzled, if you've noticed."
Yes, Nanao had noticed.
Of course, Keigo still arrived to school as impeccably dressed and flawlessly groomed as always – but there was always that harried gleam in his eye, that grim line upon his lips, regardless of how he brushed it off as nothing.
She frowned slightly, then, and Oshitari's knowing smile caught her expression.
"He needs a distraction, don't you think?" he murmured, suggestion laced secretively into his words.
Nanao paused, as if in thought.
Oshitari's smile widened.
By now, the Atobe household's staff had long since learned and familiarized themselves with Nanao's presence. So when she arrived at the doorstep that Friday night at 7, she'd been ushered in with a warm smile from an aging maid, and directed towards Keigo's room by a friendly butler. Nanao made sure to thank them properly with a small bow, before padding upstairs; the staff looked on fondly.
Nanao was such a sweetheart – especially compared with the rest of Keigo-bocchama's eccentric friends.
Nanao knocked on the door quietly one, two, three times; she'd been absently rubbing at her slightly sore knuckles when the door swung inwardly open – revealing a slightly disheveled Keigo, still dressed in his school uniform, with the sleeves pushed up and buttons undone and tie gone. Nanao offered a hesitant smile, and for a few moments, he stared at her through blank eyes.
And then- "What are you doing here?" he asked, brows furrowing.
With another bright smile, Nanao ducked underneath his arm and slipped inside the room. Keigo's eyes followed her, slightly wide and incredulity brimming from their depths. "It's nice to see you too, Keigo," she murmured, and took a haphazard glance around. It was, as she'd expected, spotless as usual. From the doorway, Keigo leaned against the wall, lips pursed dryly and eyes flat.
A luxurious carpet of incredibly plush, rich red material swathed the floor beneath generous lighting from gleaming chandeliers; there were ornate carvings along the moldings, and ceiling-to-floor windows were concealed behind matching red velvet, hung loosely with golden trappings. An enormous four poster bed stood in the center of the (too) big room, elevated on a small platform; to the side, an elegant mahogany desk suffered underneath a flurry of papers.
"Done gawking?"
Keigo's all-too smug voice brought Nanao turning around, a slight flush on her cheeks. She hadn't meant to stare so much – it was just a bit hard, when constantly subjected to so much wealth that it was enough to make someone gag.
"Why are you here?" Keigo repeated, this time, with a sharp quirk of his brow.
Nanao grappled for an answer. "I- I need help with Greek."
Not the best excuse she's come up with in a while. Nevertheless, it has Keigo's lips rising in a brief amused smirk, before a frown quickly overtook it. "I don't have time right now. I'm busy-"
Yes, Nanao wants to say, she's noticed – evidenced by the fact that he hasn't even had time to change out of his school uniform. But she can't say that, and she can't let him know why she's really here. So instead, she tugged childishly on his sleeve instead, an apologetic smile on her lips. "Sorry, sorry – you know I'm really bad at it, and I could really use some help-"
Keigo glances with a frown at the papers still on his desk. Nanao tugs again on his sleeve, and musters a most pathetic expression on her features. Keigo rolls his eyes and gives, because she is just so sad and pitiful, and Nanao bites her lip to keep the smile from overtaking her features.
Two hours later found them huddled around the small coffee table in Keigo's room, laughing quietly, secretively, as though it were something only the two of them knew, secret and special and just for their ears only. Bags of snacks – most of which Nanao had brought, and furtively pulled them out of her bag – littered the table, as did empty soda cans and bottles. At one point, Keigo had stared with mild apprehension at her small bag, because who knew so much could fit in such a tiny parcel?
They hadn't touched Greek at all.
Well they had, for the first ten minutes – whereupon Nanao had somehow managed to divert their attention away from the subject and onto highly irrelevant and completely trivial matters. How she did so without him noticing was beyond him, because she had all the subtleties of a rampaging elephant. Still, that didn't change the fact that her Greek textbook was currently buried under a mountain of snacks, and that they were currently knee-deep in laughing about something he couldn't even remember.
He had only just now noticed any of this at all. And when he did, he paused, and tilted his head to stare almost contemplatively at Nanao, who was still lost in peals of oblivious laughter.
He knew what she was doing.
Nanao wasn't the kind of person to go all the way to someone's house to ask for help with studying, then abandon the task ten minutes in. She wasn't the type to bring over snacks and drinks with the intention to study; and she certainly wasn't the kind of person who would only bring along a single textbook to ask questions about a subject she wasn't good in.
She'd done this all on purpose – and planned it – from the start.
Keigo wanted to laugh, really, at how easily he'd fallen into her routine and gone along with it, to not have noticed for two entire hours. Since when had someone like Nanao been able to pull him along?
He wanted to be irritated. He really, really did. He still had much paperwork left to review, numbers to crunch, reports to compile; he wouldn't have dared to waste two hours like this.
Still.
The ever-pounding ache in his head had cleared, and that irritating tug in his stomach – which had been hunger, he realized now – was gone, filled with greasy foods and fizzing soda.
A small curve lifted his lips into a small smile.
He leaned forward and rapped his knuckles on Nanao's forehead. She grimaced, before frowning. "What was that for?"
"Thanks."
Nanao paused, eyes wide. "…For what?"
Keigo laughed. "Just go home. It's late."
Nanao's frown deepened. "But I-"
"I command you to go, commoner. Have one of the drivers take you home – it's late."
And at that tone, Nanao got up with a huff, because nobody ever got away with arguing with Keigo when he used that invasive pitch. She had already made it across the room to the doorway when he called out again.
"Your bag-"
Nanao hardly spared him a backwards glance. "Eat it," she said, right before closing the door behind her.
With a frown of his own, Keigo peered inside the bag – and promptly burst into laughter. The bag was still halfway full with an assortment of light snacks and food and drinks; just how much had she managed to fit inside here?
"Nanao."
Nanao peered up from a forkful of salad. She was seated at the family dinner table alongside her siblings, before their parents; hesitantly, she lowered the fork to clink quietly against the plate. Her sister smiled knowingly from beside her, as if she recognized what their mother was about to say.
"I just can't seem to escape talk of you and that Atobe boy, darling."
Nanao coughed slightly on her glass cup of water.
From across her, her brother snickered.
"I do think it's wonderful that you've finally gotten yourself a serious boyfriend – for a while, I was worried that you'd never get a boyfriend."
At this point, Nanao's cheeks have heated up to a cherry red, and her sister laughed aloud and poked her affectionately.
"And what if you never got married? What would you do with yourself then? I was so worried for your future for such a long time."
The blush slowly receded from her cheeks, leaving in its wake an unpleasantly pale pallor. This time, Nanao's lips drew together into a small line, and her eyes fell to stare uncomfortably at the salad. Her stomach clenched into a funny shape. Idly, her finger traced the lace along the table.
She could do plenty of things if she didn't get married, she wanted to say – like get a job, and become a careerwoman, and be successful. Without a husband. Without having to be taken care of. She could make something of herself-
-but then, her father's agreeable laughter rang out from across the table, and Nanao's stomach coiled just a little tighter.
Fingers clenched, barely perceivably, around a decorative pink pillow. Nanao's cheek sunk just a little bit more into the surface, and she leaned just a little bit more into her headboard – almost as though her body were instinctively curling away from the girl who sat at the other end of the bed.
With long blonde locks and pretty wide, dark eyes and expertly done makeup at all times, Rima – Nanao's childhood friend from grade school – was like a practical Barbie doll. She was dressed in an elaborate outfit, as usual, perfectly cinched together with a bright pink belt, and red lips moved at an unbelievable pace as words and other words spilled from her mouth.
"Nanao, you'll never get a boyfriend at that rate – seriously! Do you want to be alone and single forever?"
Nanao attempted a smile. It looked more like a grimace.
She and Rima were old, old friends; their parents went years back, too, and as a result, the two girls had grown up together, despite the fact that they attended different junior high and high schools. They'd used to be really good friends – that is, until Rima reached puberty and grew pretty and gained an all-too large interest in boys and being pretty and more boys.
Nanao knew that Rima didn't mean to come off so…brutal, she supposed. But it was a bit hard, when Rima went off about how Nanao ought to stop being such a spoilsport, passive aggressively delivering well-concealed insults in the guise of giving advice. Nanao took it all in stride, though, and even managed to smile encouragingly when Rima came by to show off about her latest boyfriend or- whatever.
"-ah! Nana! Nana, Nana – let's meet up Saturday after school, okay? I'll let you meet Saito-kun then."
And when Rima smiled innocently at her – though Nanao knew that the smile wasn't as innocent as it seemed, and that Rima always loved to show off her boyfriends to her – Nanao couldn't help but to smile back, and nod.
She really didn't want Saturday to roll around.
Needless to say, by the time Monday rolled around, Nanao very much felt like the leftovers that life had eaten, chewed, and spit back out. Homeroom and second period had flown by, leaving Nanao with that awful feeling in her stomach that she'd done badly on the pop quiz in Greek (but what else was new); the fact that she had Rima's texts ringing her phone every other minute (didn't that girl ever pay attention in class) didn't help, nor did the fact that her parents' indulgent, dismissive words swam around in her thoughts every once in a while, help either.
Atobe, on the other hand, looked as though he'd won the billion yen lottery (because he already had millions, and that could hardly put a small dent in his fortune). As far as Nanao knew, he'd submitted the fiscal reports, and they'd been his best ones yet; even while taking the English quiz, he'd looked ridiculously happy, as if he were a cat who had finally caught the damned canary. He continued to grin smugly as the bell rang for break to begin-
-the grin faltered, though, when he glanced to the side and noticed Nanao bury her head in her arms atop her table with a quiet sigh.
With a long leg, he nudged her foot. "Why do you look as though someone killed your puppy?"
Nanao's muffled grumble filtered past the cloth of her sleeved arm.
Atobe nudged her foot again.
Slowly, she raised her head and leaned back in her seat. Nanao sighed before opening her composite notebook, already preparing for the following class; the pencil danced loosely in her hand across the white page. "It's nothing," she murmured, eyes focused blearily on her desk.
Atobe continued to stare. Nanao offered him an attempt at a smile, and Atobe wrinkled his nose at the pathetic line across her lips. Nanao's shoulders seemed to slump, then, and she returned her attention to her notebook.
He'd never seen her quite so down – not like this. Atobe had seen her mourn the occasional test score that fell below her standards, but those had always still been with the constant cheer Nanao seemed to carry with her. Today, though, it was almost as though someone had taken a pin to her skin and deflated it, until she were a listless, floating balloon. It was a ridiculously sad sight, really, and-
Atobe let out a sigh of his own.
At the sound, Oshitari's eyes peered upwards from where he sat on Atobe's other side. Atobe glanced at him, and Oshitari's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Take care of it," Atobe murmured vaguely to the other boy – who nodded in perfect understanding, smile growing.
"Come on, puppy. We don't have much time until the bell rings again." Atobe swept her desk, effectively gathering all her things into her leather bookbag.
With a yelp, Nanao stood up to avoid a clatter of pencils as they fell into her lap. Atobe rolled his eyes; who had five pencils out at a time? Ridiculous girl.
Nevertheless, he bent once, and in an easy slide of his hands, had picked all of them up and thrown them haphazardly into the bag. Nanao watched for a moment through dumbfounded eyes, lips parted, until Atobe faced her and nudged upwards at her chin to close her mouth. "Stop looking so stupid; I don't need people thinking I'm dating a fish."
Nanao's throat made a vaguely insulted sound.
"Come on – are you so slow?"
Nanao blinked once, twice, before- "Keigo- where are we going? Class is starting soon-"
Atobe rolled his eyes impatiently. "Exactly. That's why we have to go, right now. Come."
He picked up his own bag. He wrapped a secure hand around Nanao's wrist and tugged her along headfirst down the row of desks – he paused just by the doorway and managed to give their watching classmates a trademark smirk, and as he pulled her into the hall, Nanao could hear the swoons of both girls and boys.
Nanao never had been too good at catching onto things quickly; for a few seconds, she numbly followed along, her wrist still held in Atobe's iron grip. With a frown and a blink back into reality, she shook her arm stubbornly. "Where are we going? Keigo, we have to get back to class-"
At the end of the hall, Atobe abruptly stopped. He spun on one heel, hand still on Nanao's wrist; it was such a sudden movement that Nanao stumbled a step backwards, blinking. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? We're ditching," he rolled his eyes, as though Nanao were the unreasonable half of the pair.
At that, Nanao's eyes widened to the size of saucers. It took her a few more seconds to process the words, and by the time she realized it, Atobe had already tugged her down the stairwell and into the courtyard. "Wait, Keigo- I can't ditch! We can't ditch-" But her protests fell on deaf ears, and Atobe simply proceeded to drag her along, across the empty courtyard and into the parking lot. Her heels clattered onto the pavement.
Nanao's frown grew deeper by the second, until her forehead practically ached at all the lines scrawled across her pale skin.
It was only when Atobe came to a stop beside a sleek – impossible gorgeous, practically sparkling under the sunlight – convertible car, with the roof already collapsed back and hidden beneath a metal panel, that Nanao found all protests dying on her tongue. Cream leather seats gleamed from inside, as though they'd been wiped and wiped until someone's arms shook. She took a minute to swallow the sight of the car, before turning to face Atobe – who was in the midst of promptly tossing in their bags into the middle.
Nanao, with a horrified gaze, scrambled to retrieve them. "Keigo! What are you doing- what if the owner of this car comes back? And, we can't ditch- are you crazy? I just-"
Atobe continued to ignore her, however, and proceeded instead to pull out a small black contraption from his trouser pockets; Nanao paused in an attempt to decipher what it is. In the next moment, though, the answer was provided for her – when Atobe's finger pressed on a button on the black box, and she heard an audible click from the car in front of her. A mixture of horror, and awe, made itself pronounced on her expression – one that Atobe took far too much pleasure in.
He slid into the driver's seat of the car with poignant, palpable glee, and Nanao gripped at the side of the car with half trembling fingers. "This is yours?" she managed to ask, then, finally finding her voice where she'd left it about two minutes back.
Atobe had slipped on a pair of black sunglasses, then, and a smirk greeted her.
A squeak fluttered past her lips before she could stop it. "A Lamborghini?" she half screeched – though careful to keep her voice down, in the paranoia that perhaps a teacher would come outside to catch them.
Atobe gave her an aghast look. "You are butchering that pronunciation, you peasant," he replied smoothly, as though entirely unperturbed by Nanao's expression of growing disbelief.
Nanao, in the meantime, had taken to temporarily skipping over the fact that Keigo had manhandled her out of the building, all for the intent of ditching – to focus on the fact that he was in possession of a Lamborghini convertible car. Forgetting the fact that she hadn't even been aware that he drove, what kind of eighteen year old had a-
"Nanao. Just get in."
Nanao's grip tightened on the edge of the car door. "But- I can't ditch! I don't want it going on my record-"
"Yuushi's taking care of it. Now get in. Gods, you act like someone who's never ditched before."
For a moment, Nanao considered asking what it meant when he said that Oshitari-kun would 'take care of it.' But then, considering the fact that the entire string of regulars seemed to live life as the fancy struck them, all laws of the world and physics be damned, she didn't exactly want to know how they went about rectifying their records after ditching. Most likely because she didn't think it'd exactly be legal in the end, and that she'd much rather not know.
Nanao's lips tightened.
At that, Atobe peered at her incredulously over the rim of his sunglasses. "You've never ditched." He says it like a statement, not a question, and there's a hint of disbelief gracing his words.
Nanao's cheeks flush, then. "Well- it's not a bad thing not to have ditched!" She protested. Just as she said so, the bell in the clocktower rang, signaling the end of break and the start of Greek class.
Atobe rested one hand on the steering wheel casually. "You can either get in, or go back now – and try to come up with a plausible answer when Takamura-sensei asks why you're late from break, and from where." He paused. "Oh, and I'm not giving your bag back, by the way." A smug smirk.
Nanao bounces nervously, shiftily on her heels, and bit her lip as the clack clack clack of pavement meeting feet fluttered to her ears. She took a glance at the school building, at her book bag sitting beside Atobe, and finally- at the incorrigible smirk still burgeoning across his lips. Insufferable, spoiled brat who drives a freaking-
"Why do you even have this car at school? Doesn't your chauffeur drive you here?" she blurted, still biting her lip. Atobe rolled his eyes at her attempt to stall for time.
"I sent a message to my driver just now, telling him to deliver my car."
Nanao wants to ask how he managed to message the driver during class, how his driver managed to bring the car over so quickly, without anyone noticing. She wants to ask how on earth his father let him have a Lamborghini (before remembering that what Keigo wants, Keigo gets, so long as he can perform up to par). She wants to ask when the hell he got his license. She wants to ask how Oshitari-kun is going to 'take care of it,' but then she doesn't want to know anyway. She wants to know where they're going to go. She wants to know why they're ditching at all, and why Keigo has chosen to take her, and not Oshitari-kun. She wants to know a billion other things, but-
But Nanao's already made her decision, then, and she scampers into the passenger side of the car and tries to ignore Atobe's laughter as he kicks the engine into gear.
They pass the first ten minutes in silence, broken only by the whipping sound of the wind rushing past their heads, combing through Atobe's hair so that he looks like a Greek god, tangling through her own so that she looks like an escapee from a mental facility. They're speeding incredibly quickly down some street, mostly empty because it's the middle of a weekday; Atobe drives like a professional, one hand on the wheel, and shifts them onto an equally empty highway full of empty stretches of beige pavement.
Nanao glanced to the side-
-and squinted, unsure if she was seeing things correctly.
"Keigo," she manages to say, over the roar of the wind.
Atobe quirks a brow at her, though he doesn't take his eyes off the road.
"…Are your windows tinted?"
"Of course," is the reply, in a tone that implies that Nanao is ridiculous for even asking such an obvious question.
Nanao can't help but to ask "…Why?"
Atobe's expression morphs into one of bafflement – as though it's entirely ridiculous and should be obvious why. "Next you're going to ask me why the car is bulletproof," he mutters, in a ridiculing tone.
A pause.
"It's bulletproof?!"
It's after thirty more minutes when Atobe finally pulls to a smooth stop, as though he's done this hundreds of times before. They've left the pavement of manmade highways, and instead, there's a small stretch of gravel underneath their feet; Nanao's never been here before, but it's a small area right beside the highway, several hundred feet above the beach below – and before them, is the endless stretch of ocean.
It's picturesque, and at this height, it almost feels as though they're on a cliff. The beach is empty save for a few stragglers, and despite the stickiness in the air that always accompanies the seaside, Nanao can't help but to beam at the sparkling blue waters and the idle white clouds.
She wants to know, in the back of her mind, how Keigo always seems to know incredibly amazing hideouts – like a villain from a comic series. Or perhaps a superhero? She'd yet to decide.
But then, the two are leaning against the side of the car, side by side, and Nanao has to squint against the sun while Atobe looks smoothly on from behind his shades. Another few minutes pass in silence, save for the squawks of seagulls and the rush of the ocean, and then-
-all at once, Nanao understands.
She understands why Atobe has ditched with her – or rather, ditched for her. She understands why he had his driver deliver his car to school, why he seemingly randomly plucked her out of the classroom and dropped her in his ridiculously incredible car and drove them out here.
Some say that Atobe Keigo is ridiculously spoiled, to the point where no human should ever be spoiled. And Nanao would heartily agree, taking note of the warm Lamborghini that's still humming against her skin. Others would say that he's a god, sent down as a gift to mortals from the heavens above – Atobe preens at that particular analogy, and Nanao laughs. And as selfish and willful and completely arrogant as Keigo is, as intimidating and larger-than-life as he comes off as – he's still always, always there for all the people who've been lucky enough to be considered by him as a friend.
To the point where he'd play hooky without a second thought, so he could cheer up a friend even without knowing the reason why she was down.
Nanao now has to bite her lip to keep back the wide grin that's threatening to split her face.
She nudges his shoulder. "Thanks," she says, without glancing at him.
Atobe glances at her, and rolls his eyes. He nudges back. "You're silly."
Nanao laughs.
"I don't like her."
"…Welcome to my humble abode?"
Atobe had already swept into Oshitari's room the moment the other boy opened the door at his imperious knocking, with hardly a spared glance at the boy himself. The maids had long since grown accustomed to Atobe's constant presence around the Oshitari household, and he was given free access to the building as though he were a member of the family himself.
Atobe draped himself along Oshitari's sofa, and the blue-haired boy came up beside him, eyes dancing with amusement.
"And who is it that you dislike so much? Suzuki-san?"
Atobe shot him a dry glance. "Don't feign ignorance – it's unbecoming."
"Oh dear, my bleeding heart aches."
"But you know who I'm talking about."
Oshitari laughed, before seating himself elegantly upon a chair. "Minako?"
"Yes."
"Why not?"
Atobe scowled. "Ore-sama does not need a reason to detest peasants."
"Her parents are actually quite wealthy – but you know that. Who's the one who said that feigning ignorance isn't attractive?"
"Don't you dare imply that Ore-sama is ever unattractive."
"Your severe dislike of her is completely unfounded, you know. You're just petulant that she didn't go moony-eyed over you the first time you two met."
An insulted sound from the back of Atobe's throat. "The wench actually dared to ask- 'Oh, so you're Atobe-kun?'" A sniff. "It's Atobe-sama to a wench like her."
Wench. There was that century-confused vocabulary, rearing its ugly head.
"I quite like her caustic wit – it's charming."
"It's about as charming as that atrocious, perverse smile you have whenever you see a pretty pair of legs."
"Oh, do stop with the compliments. I blush, Keigo."
Atobe's scowl deepened. "I don't understand why you have such a fixation on her-"
A pointed look at Atobe, from Oshitari.
"-she's not even realistically human, Yuushi. What kind of person is so disgustingly perfect?"
"So you think she's perfect?"
"Yes. In a bad way."
"…How is she perfect in a bad way?"
"Tennis, ballet, studies, modeling- for fuck's sakes, Yuushi, is there anything that monster doesn't do?"
"Language, Keigo."
"What kind of person is so horrifyingly perfect?"
At that point, Oshitari summoned a pointed look directed straight at Atobe, the self-proclaimed idol of Hyotei, who did all the aforementioned activities, and more. Well, sans ballet, but he tangoed well enough to make anyone question whether he was truly only eighteen, so really, it was a give and take. Atobe noticed the stare, and an insufferable smirk bloomed on lips, as he proceeded to do something Oshitari liked to call preening.
"Of course, Ore-sama defies all human standards. Of course Ore-sama is divinely perfect, in every imaginable way-" Atobe's smirk left his face. "-but she has no excuse for being so perfect. It's not natural. There must be something horribly wrong with her."
Oshitari remained silent this time, struggling to keep the highly amused smile from his lips.
Since when, he wants to ask, has anyone needed an excuse to be perfect?
"Perhaps a traumatic incident? Or a horrifically abusive father, or perhaps she's a boy, Yuushi, pretending to be a girl. She might even be some government spy – or a government robot-"
Oshitari chuckled out loud, then, effectively cutting off Atobe's increasingly ridiculous scenarios. "I think you're describing a Mary Sue now, Keigo."
Atobe gave him an artfully crafted expression – one that screamed the word 'Exactly,' dripping with smug arrogance. "That's precisely my point, Yuushi."
And then, Oshitari gained a deeply pensive look on his features – one that unnerved Atobe. After a moment- "You know, given how perfect you both are, you ought to consider – perhaps she's your secret, long lost twin?"
Atobe's expression grew into one of such horror at the possibility, that Oshitari's shoulders shook with the tremors of his silent laughter.
REVIEW REPLIES
Mumismatist – Can I just say that I adored your review – because you got exactly what I was aiming for. While I have paired Atobe up with a spunky girl before, sometimes, you feel as though that there's more to him than the diva, something that needs someone calmer to soothe out his outrageous personality. And I am attempting to make a realistic transition from friends to perhaps something more, and also trying to reflect that you can have more-than-platonic moments if your friendship carries that vibe – which, given the strange circumstances that Nanao and Keigo met in, makes perfect sense. LSDKJFLSK I just adored your review and read it three times okay gahd I LOVE YOU THANK YOU I APPRECIATE YOU.
DisilludedNight – Ahhh thank you! I was hoping to portray how close they were. Hehe.
Maria-Reynne – I love you for your reviews, darling. The more reviews I get from you, the happier I get. Hehe.
Leogirl321 – Oh gosh, thanks a lot. Tbh, IAG is my favorite story at the moment. Haha.
Ace1queen – Oh, I know right? Atobe's so hilariously clueless, but he tries hard. HAHA. We all love Atobe. Who doesn't? Thanks for reviewing~
Vivvy09 – Eee, thanks. I was hoping it'd be a little realistic.
Shubhs – Girl. You and I both. Who doesn't want Keigo. Seriously. sLKfJLKSDF.
XxLeopardPrintxX – LOL I know you love Oshitari, girl, but we all love Atobe. Egad. Tough love, tough love.
Xxyy1113 – Haha thanks!
Unknown player – hehe you're cute. Thanks bb. And that's how lovable Atobe always is. |D
Night Neko-Jin – LMAO isn't it? Atobe's always silly and larger than life that way, and I love writing him because it's such hilarious fun.
Slacker4life – Oh goodie. 8D I know that Oshitari is a running favorite, but I mean, really – he's got Minako-chan, and Atobe is just too perfect to pass up on. XD
Rilakkumadesu – Can I just say how much I adore your reviews? HAHA. Seriously though, I'm so glad that you understood what I was trying to capture about Atobe's personality. Ohoho.
Sarah – Aweh, thank yous, thank yous. ^.^
DaphneAnimeGirl – ATOBE IS SWEET, HUH. GOD I JUST WANT HIM FOR MYSELF. Hahahaha. Thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you like it. 8)
Fhclause – Hehe, thank you. I think my chapters are getting longer these days.
SunnyDorangejuice – Haha, oh gosh, I always love reading your reviews. They're always so long. And HAHA omg I know exactly the feeling you're talking about – I always get embarrassed on behalf of other characters in tv series and stuff too! HAHA ohmg I'm glad you feel it for my poor little Nana. ; A ;
The human principle – LOLOL omg I seriously laughed ridiculously hard at your review. I'm so glad you find my writing humorous. HAHA. And oh, did it sound awkward? Hahaha my bad, I tend to use that phrase a lot, so I couldn't tell. And I seriously love your reviews right back atcha! Haha.
KL93 – HAHA is he really oblivious, though? 8'D
Justgowithit – Ohmg, stop flattering me like that. My ego. It cannot. But seriously, thank you for always reviewing, and I'm glad that my portrayal of their friendship is getting across to the readers. Hehe.
EmeraldLily7918 – Hehe thanks – you know I always appreciate your input!
Explodingsushi15 – Eee I know. It's such a tough decision, isn't it? HAHA. And thank you, thank you, I try.
Surugasasa – LMAO it is, isn't it? Silly Keigo.
Fyeri – FYERI GIRL YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU. OKAY. I SAY THIS ALL THE FREAKING TIME I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE YOU WANT FROM ME. LOL. Okay, but no seriously – stop flattering me like that because it makes me blush because your writing intimidates me and I can't take the compliments from you, okay. And dude I totally know what you mean by too many italics; I have a severe problem. I'm working on it, I promise. LOL.
READ. REVIEW. LOVE?