A/N: Okay. So. Atobe's birthday surfaces in this chapter, and I really wanted it as a plot device. I understand that things are a little screwy in terms of timeline and everything, so… please forgive me! I'm just going to say that Atobe got his car license overseas where it's legal to drive at a younger age, and this was his eighteenth birthday!
There's going to be a little more plot development in the coming chapters, so watch out, hehe.
As always, I adore you, my readers, and please leave me some feedback and reviews!
Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.
Megumi was everything Nanao wasn't.
In some ways, Nanao realized now, she was like a female counterpart to Atobe – dazzling, beautiful, with a clever, witty quip ready at all times. She and Nanao looked alike, and one could clearly see the familial relation, but Megumi was overwhelmingly pretty, all slender features and pointed nose and natural charisma. She was energetic and effortlessly cool, a confidence that flowed from her persona like smooth water; she was smart and adept, too, and was guaranteed a corporate position in their family's company after graduation.
Jun was inordinately attractive, too, and Nanao can still remember the times when her friends had held massive crushes for "Nana's cute older brother." He wasn't as outgoing as Megumi was, but he didn't need to be, because he was so kind and gentle that everyone loved him for that in an entirely different way. He was brilliant, and already, the shareowners' board were praising him and anticipating when he'd take over the company.
And then, there was Nanao, who was pretty, but not in an overly noticeable way. But that was the way everything was about her – she was competent, she was smart, but never in a way that stood out far above the rest. She was simply above average, and between her towering siblings, was hardly a notable child.
So excuse her that she wasn't quite keen on introducing Keigo to them (aside from the fact that oh, they weren't actually dating). It wasn't so much of a complex as much of a slight discomfort and aversion. And Jun and Megumi were sharp bastards, as much as they laughed and smiled; it would be far too easy for them to notice that she and Keigo weren't really dating, for them to tell their parents and for things to tumble down in a messy affair.
Megumi was supposed to be off jetsetting to Paris, and Jun was supposed to be away in college; Nanao had been busy with so many things that she'd forgotten entirely that today was the day that they were both due at home.
And that's how they'd ended up here, in one of the parlor rooms, with Megumi and Jun smiling at them from across the tea table.
Nanao squirmed in her seat-
"Stop squirming, Nana."
"Your fidgeting makes me dizzy."
Megumi and Atobe spoke at once, and Nanao stilled instantly.
Megumi eyed Atobe, the smile still imprinted upon her perfectly-glossed lips.
Atobe smiled carelessly, charismatically back, as though he couldn't be less nervous if he tried.
Damn him.
Nanao stared at Atobe with unabashed awe – and just a slight bit of horror.
The kid was a certifiable genius when it came to bullshitting.
Megumi, true to her nature, had engaged in a polite conversation with thinly veiled questions that dug at their relationship. It wasn't that their darling Nanao was lacking in any way, oh no, but when the first serious boyfriend she brought home turned out to be Atobe Keigo, perhaps the most eligible bachelor to be born in the last decade, Megumi couldn't help but to be curious. And faintly suspicious.
Because, really, the most perfect man on earth ought to have some flaws, and Megumi wasn't exactly quick to believe that he'd be the picture-perfect epitome of good morals. He was Atobe Keigo, for fuck's sakes, excuse her language; the boy was hot, yes (don't call her a cougar she wasn't that old yet), but didn't that only mean he was that more prone to debauchery?
She'd asked all sorts of invasive questions – some that even had Jun, her partner in crime, pressing his elbow lightly into her side in alarm. What, asking if he got tested or had a history of sexual diseases was not overstepping her bounds. Not that she encourage the two having sex or anything, but it couldn't hurt to ask, right?
She couldn't throw the kid off of his cool streak no matter how hard she tried.
Atobe was as suave and clever as everyone called him, she supposed, because he hadn't even paused at a single one of her questions thus far.
"So Atobe-kun – what's your favorite part about Nanao?"
Megumi leaned in with a devious grin. From beside her, Jun sighed softly, barely audibly, and gave Nanao and Atobe both a small, apologetic look. Weakling.
Atobe paused, then, for the first time. Megumi's smile grew expectant – well? There were many things to pick from – her hair, her eyes, her kindness-
"I like that she's obtuse."
Three pairs of incredulous eyes landed on Atobe.
His flawlessly collected expression was back, and he hardly batted a lid as he draped an easy, familiar arm over Nanao's shoulders; and though they'd done it a million times before, Nanao couldn't help but to shift ever so slightly in front of her siblings.
"She's so obtuse to common modes of social propriety – or perhaps uncaring altogether – that it's charming, and quite possibly one of the most refreshing things I've seen in a person in a long time. She's always just Nanao, and-" Atobe smiled. "-that's quite nice."
Nanao flushed a deep, deep red, lips parting as though to protest, though no sound could come out. Megumi mirrored her slack-jawed expression, and Jun was the only one out of the three who managed to smile.
Nanao shuffled along beside Atobe, wrapped up haphazardly in a throw from one of the couches in the parlor; she walked Atobe down the pathway from their front door to the car that awaited him. He seemed as nonchalant as always, more concerned with the state of his cuticles than anything else at the moment, but Nanao continued to dart careful looks his way.
"Sorry," she blurted.
Atobe paused. He turned to stare at her, with a raised brow.
"About all that- they can't help it, it's because I'm the youngest, and they've always babied me a lot even though it's not necessary, and that entire conversation was so unnecessary that it's ridiculous, and I'm so sorry I didn't even know they were coming home but I don't think they suspect anything so we should be fine-"
"Nanao."
She stopped abruptly, lips snapping shut.
"Shut up."
Nanao grimaced.
"I didn't mind."
Nanao peered up at Atobe, and was surprised to find humor and amusement flitting from his expression. "What?"
Atobe laughed, and tugged lightly at her cheek. "It's not a big deal; lying isn't that hard." Nanao nodded and a smile spread on her lips. "But that last part wasn't a lie."
A pause.
"You should stay yourself, Nanao."
And with that, Atobe had slipped into his car with a short laugh, and Nanao was left staring after the sleek black mobile as it pulled away into the street.
And just like that, things went on as usual. Nanao had found that it was alarmingly easy to settle into this routine, of acting like Atobe's girlfriend by day, and being his close friend whenever others weren't around; she dealt with her mild (growing) crush on Oshitari-kun on the side, and often, Atobe would come up with random, devious excuses for the two to be alone together.
It was wonderful.
That is, until approximately a week later, during a lunch meeting with Oshitari-kun (that Atobe had so carefully arranged in a non-suspicious manner). It'd been going fantastically – Nanao had babble a bit in his presence, he'd laughed and discussed current events and novels with her, and the two had shared another one of their interesting conversations.
They shared a strange companionship in that they both were victims of Keigo's ridiculousness, and were two startlingly logical people amidst a sea of crazy; they had interesting, engaging conversations, and Nanao couldn't help the way she felt the pit of her stomach falling just a little more every time Oshitari smiled.
This fluttering in her stomach, this tightness in her chest- she reveled in it, adored the way her lips couldn't help but quirk up in a smile when Oshitari laughed.
And so, it had been quite a wonderful day in general, until-
"Keigo's birthday party will be ridiculous this year, as usual."
Wait, what?
Nanao froze, then, a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression in her eyes. And this time, the pitfall feeling in her stomach wasn't the pleasant kind of a few moments earlier.
Oshitari's lips spread into a highly amused smile. "You didn't know."
"I- I'm terrible with dates, and I must have forgotten- oh my god."
What the hell was she going to get him for his birthday?
Atobe's birthday was in two weeks.
As luck would have it, even if Oshitari hadn't told her at lunch, she would have found out that very night anyways – because Atobe called her that very night, demanding her presence at his residence. When she showed up, she was promptly presented with five color blocks and commanded to choose one.
She'd chosen to blue, and Atobe nodded imperiously, before discarding the blue an selecting the purple.
He was selecting a color scheme to give to the event planner for his birthday ball.
It was a famous thing, the Atobe birthday affair. She'd always received an invitation (Atobe didn't personally send out the invitations; it was a combination decision between his father and who he deemed to be politically apt, and the family publicist), but she'd never really attended, simply because, well, she hadn't known him before. This year, though-
-she was sure to be required to make an appearance.
It was her supposed boyfriend's birthday.
And she needed a spectacular present, because this was Atobe, and everything he ever did was nothing short of moving heaven and earth. Even the most insignificant, thoughtless things he did for her had Nanao gaping in gratefulness and awe, and this was her opportunity to pay it back.
But what the hell did she get a pampered prince who had everything he's ever wanted – including an island named after him?
Still, Nanao put on a brave little smile and nodded encouragingly when Atobe began to talk about champagne fountains and ice sculptures.
"What? A present for Atobe?"
Nanao nodded.
Gakuto paused, a leg hooked over his head. "I dunno. I usually just get him grip tape."
"…Grip tape."
Gakuto shrugged. "I mean, it's not like I can impress him with anything money can buy, so I might as well just get him something he uses."
Shishio snorted around a mouthful of water. "Atobe doesn't even care about what the present is, you know that, right? He just wants a present to make sure that his great presence hasn't left our minds."
Choutarou shot him an admonishing look. "I just get Atobe-buchou a nice book- German literature, particularly. He likes that."
"Mrrah?" Was all Nanao received before Jiroh flopped back down to sleep.
"Usu." Kabaji swept Jiroh over one shoulder and headed to the clubroom.
"Gekokujou."
…How did that even relate to this situation, Nanao wanted to wail.
After an entire week of searching high and low through Atobe's list of favorite designer stores, running around little knick knack stores, browsing tennis equipment shops, Nanao had nothing. Diddly squat. Nada.
For the love of god, how could it be so ridiculously hard to buy someone a birthday present?
Oh, right, probably because the birthday boy in question had the money to buy Japan twice over, if he put his mind to it. Nanao sighed and sank into her desk seat, and stared resentfully at her pencil, as though it were the source of all her problems.
"Nana? Is something wrong?" Megumi's head peaked through the door.
"Mmrph."
Megumi slipped through the door.
When Nanao looked up from her arms, she found Megumi, looking as charming as ever in a short, glittering dress, hair in curls and makeup perfectly done. Nanao quirked a brow. Megumi grinned unabashedly in return. "I'm going on a date," she waved a hand dismissively.
Nanao raised both brows.
"Shut up. So what's wrong?"
Nanao let out another all-suffering sigh. "I can't think of what to get Keigo for his birthday. He has everything and I don't even know if there's anything he doesn't already have and that whole 'it's the thought that counts' is a stupid thought and-"
"Nanao," Megumi laughed. "You don't have to buy him anything."
Nanao stared at her, horrified. "I can't not get him a gift-!"
"No, no- I mean, get him something with sentimental value. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
Nanao gave her a dubious look – because had she met Atobe? The guy had his face blown up on a gigantic poster for his self-proclaimed 'Atobe day' at school just two weeks ago; the craziest thing was that everyone went along and celebrated it as though it were an actual holiday.
Megumi laughed again. "Trust me."
Nanao bit her lower lip.
As it turned out, Nanao couldn't even make it to the party.
The morning of the ball, she received an email from the student council teacher adviser, asking her where certain documents were – documents that were supposed to have been turned in by the next day. The responsibilities had originally been assigned to another council member, who had shirked off the duties until it was now Nanao's job to frantically pull together the reports and turn it in on time.
She'd had a pretty dress all picked out for the party, too, that she'd had Megumi help with so that she knew it was something that Atobe couldn't harp about.
She had Atobe's present – that was a god-awful pain to finally dredge together – all wrapped and ready by the door.
And then, she'd awoken this morning to that horrifying email, and had something just shy of a mental breakdown.
With a sorrowful sigh, she pulled out her phone to send a very long, very apologetic, very groveling message to Atobe.
It was only at the actual party that Atobe finally received the message. He'd been busy all day since he'd awoken, going in to get his suit fitted for last-minute adjustments, making sure that the finishing touches on the party were perfect. The clock struck six-thirty, and when the double doors opened, Atobe was looking impeccably stunning in his beautifully-tailored two-piece suit, looking even more flawless than usual. If that was possible.
The greeting of the first flow of guests ended in forty minutes, and Atobe was finally free – for just a few moments more – to enjoy his own party, before social obligations pulled him back in. He was met by the sight of his teammates, fooling around as per usual, and the absence of Nanao.
He'd frowned, until he'd checked his phone.
And sighed, and rolled his eyes.
Seriously, she was such a helpless little thing.
Ah, well. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and turned with a picture-perfect smile to greet one of his father's business partners.
"I'd like to thank everyone who came to tonight's joyous occasion – Keigo is extremely grateful for your presence here tonight. As the successor to the Atobe corporations…"
Atobe watched with a small, practiced smile, a glass of champagne in hand, up at the small stage in the center of the grand foyer. He'd given his own greeting speech earlier, at the beginning of the party; this was his father's own customary speech, in the middle, when they could be assured that everyone had come. This speech was well-practiced, well-rehearsed, written exactly to assure everyone that only the highest of society's echelon had been admitted to this party, to reinforce the idea that parties hosted by the Atobes were something that one would want desperately to be invited to.
To once again, imprint the idea that was already sickeningly clear in everyone's mind, that the Atobes, and the Atobe Empire, were the best of the best, that they sat at the top of Japan's social ladder, that they were-
-gods.
Atobe sipped his champagne in a tiny, controlled swallow.
This was ordinary. This was tradition. When one was an Atobe, a birthday party wasn't a birthday party – it was simply another social venture. He understood, and he-
-still.
There was a very small part of him that resented this all, because while he loved the fanfare and the glamour (he was Atobe Keigo), there was still something about it all that felt very impersonal. Which was a terrible word to use, considering that this was supposed to be his birthday ball.
He traced the outline of his phone in his pocket, and he couldn't help the idea that if Nanao were here, perhaps things would be a little better. A little more genuine.
The party was still going on when Atobe swept out of the room at 11:40. He ought to have stayed, really, and he could already feel the disappointment in his father's gaze. But he was tired – terribly so. All of a sudden, the charades and glitter felt more like weight than anything else, and Atobe supposed that he deserved an early retirement from his own party tonight, of all nights.
He pulled off his tie in one fluid movement and flung it over the back of his chair for the maids to sweep away tomorrow morning. He began to unbutton his shirt, and when he'd reached his third button down-
Knock knock.
Atobe bit back a sigh.
Instead, he squared his shoulders and wiped the tiredness from his face, because all things considered, it was most likely a household staff sent by his father to retrieve him for the party. Atobe crossed the room in two large strides, swung open the door a bit more violently than he'd intended to…
…and found himself blinking, speechless, at the person across the threshold.
Nanao stood in front of him, breathing harshly from what was presumably the run up the stairs, dressed in a baggy sweater and scarf draped messily around her neck, hair in a half-messy disarray. She clutched a small glittering gift bag to her chest, and despite the tiredness in her eyes, she brightened in a wide smile when she saw Atobe.
"Oh, good! The party was still going on so I was afraid you'd still be in there somewhere, and you know I can't really go in there wearing this," Nanao breathe, ducking under his arm and entering his room. Atobe closed the door mechanically behind her, and turned around, bewilderment clear in his gaze. "Nanao-"
"Here."
Before Atobe could finish his sentence, the bag was shoved in his face, and Nanao's smiling features disappeared behind it.
Slowly, Atobe took the bag.
"I made it before twelve, yeah?" Nanao grinned impishly, and despite the multitude of questions on the tip of his tongue, Atobe couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his lips.
"You're an idiot," he laughed.
Nanao shrugged, still smiling. "Oh-! I'm still not done with my work, so I have to get going. I just, y'know, wanted to give that to you before it hit midnight." After a moment of mulling it over her thoughts, Nanao swept forward to press a tight, whole-hearted hug to Atobe's midsection, before pulling away. "Happy birthday, Keigo!"
She'd already fled the room before Atobe could quirk a brow.
Afterwards, Atobe's sense of duty had compelled him to return to the party. He spent another hour and a half there, until the party was finally over as it neared two in the morning. At that point, he swept into his room and half-threw himself on his bed, breathing deeply into the silk.
When he turned his head, he saw the gift bag lying on top of his desk.
With a quiet sigh, he walked over and with an idle hand, opened the bag- and frowned.
He pulled out a DVD disk encased in a simple plastic case, with a small, short message written on the back corner: "Happy birthday, Keigo! I couldn't think of anything to get you, but I hope you enjoy this gift anyway. – Nanao"
After a moment of hesitation, he walked over to his television and slipped in the disk.
The television turned on. A bit of static, and then-
-it opened immediately upon Choutarou, who was seated in front of a grand piano, apparently pulled out of practice. The video wasn't stable, and shook slightly, as though filmed by an amateur. For a moment, it zoomed into Choutarou's lips, smiling nervously-
Atobe frowned. What was this-?
"Ah. Atobe-buchou?" Choutarou laughed softly.
Atobe paused.
The camera holder seemed to have figured out the zoom function, for it slowly panned out, now, revealing Choutarou in the center, seated primly on the piano seat. "He's- he's amazing."
"I mean, everyone knows he's amazing, because he's Atobe-buchou, and people celebrate Atobe Day, but- I think he's just great. He's the best Captain I've ever had- well not that I've had any other, but there's nothing more I'd ever ask for in a Captain. I know he doesn't come off as a very amicable person sometimes, but he's one of the most awe-inspiring people I've ever met."
Choutarou rubbed the back of his head absently. "He- Atobe-buchou helped me become the tennis player I am now. I mean, the Scud Serve- it's who I am as a player, the speed and everything, and he- he helped me attain it. He-"
Choutarou shrugged helplessly in that adorable way of his. "He's just great. Really great. And even if he strokes his own ego a lot – sorry, buchou! – he doesn't really even notice all these really great things he's doing."
…
Atobe stared at the screen, at a loss for words. And just then, the video opened abruptly, crudely, on another clip: this time, Oshitari, seated in the Atobe library, a cup of tea steaming before him.
"Keigo? Ah, I see what you're doing." Amusement danced in Oshitari's eyes. "Keigo's an insufferable prat, and don't let his whole 'king' delusion fool you into thinking otherwise. He's certifiably insane, really, if we're being quite honest here."
Atobe's brow twitched.
"But he's perhaps the most stunning person I think I'll ever meet in my life. He has this way about him that's just- simply so him, and everyone has no choice but to be pulled into his crazy rhythm. He's crazy, certainly, but in a way that has you stepping back and asking 'is that person even real?' and sometimes, I feel like clapping for him, just because he's so- hilariously, stupidly incredible.
"Keigo's a close friend of mine, and I may look after him sometimes, but in the end, it's Keigo you want when you're really in trouble. Because there isn't a mountain he wouldn't move, a sea he wouldn't part, to help you.
"All the riches and glamour aside, I can guarantee you – you'll never find anyone who's a more devoted, reliable friend than this crazy prince."
Another flash.
Jiroh, yawning, still half-draped over the tennis bleachers. "Hnnnmm…Atobe-buchou?"
Another sleepy yawn, a rub of his eyes. "He's- super cool. Like- freaking cool. I mean- Marui-san is still my number one, but if Marui-san wasn't, then he'd totally be my number one hero.
"I mean- how can you not think he's cool? He's such an awesome badass at tennis!"
Static, flash.
"Usu."
A pause.
Kabaji looked rather uncomfortable, but Atobe found that hilarious in the dead of night, at two-twenty A.M. "Atobe is…really nice," he said, firmly. "The nicest."
Static.
This time, Shishido, a towel draped over his shoulders, sweat dripping from his brows; he's just finished working out, Atobe figured.
"Keigo?" A snort, and then a laugh. "You serious? He's literally the most psychotic person I've ever met."
Shishido paused, as if in deep thought.
"But he's cool.
"He's- he's too much for me to handle all the time, but- he's a damned good captain. And a seriously good friend. And- Okay, yeah, he's pretty much the poster child for every fairy tale prince in existence, but gonna tell you now, his egomania is seriously a bitch.
"But yeah. Great at tennis. Weirdly good at tango. I'unno. Cultured?"
Another shrug.
"He's cool. He's one of the best friends I've met."
Static, flash, static.
Gakuto, in the splits in the middle of the gym. He grinned cheekily at the screen, as though he couldn't be more comfortable in that position. "Atobe? Maaaaan. He's hilarious.
"Like, when you poke fun at him, the way he turns purple is fucking gold. And that little diva king thing he has going, oh man, it still hasn't gotten old, and it's been six years running. It's hilarious. Great. Fantastic.
"I mean, he's a little annoying sometime with all that prissing, but he's still Keigo, so we let him get away with it.
"He's- okay, yeah, fine, he's a great friend, and a better person than you'd ever believe, yadda yadda. Okay. Yeah."
Flash.
Hiyoshi, looking as somber as one might at a funeral procession. "Atobe-buchou is the most powerful person I've encountered, and- and a great Captain."
A thoughtful pause.
"Gekokujou."
Static.
Atobe traced his lower lip lightly with his tongue, eyes fixated on the screen even though the disk had ended-
Oh?
The screen suddenly flashed onto yet another scene. He couldn't see who it was, because an arm was blocking the screen entirely, a hand fiddling with the camera making rumbling noises on the mic. Atobe was suddenly encountered with the urge to laugh, because really, it could only be one person-
-Nanao shuffled backwards in an awkward crawl, eyeing the camera critically, before smiling, pleased. She sat herself on her chair. It was her room, he realized.
"Hey, Keigo!" she chirped, happily as ever, then faltered for a moment. "So, wow, this feels more awkward than I thought it would."
Atobe snortled.
"Okay. Yeah. But, um. Yeah- sorry. This is all I could think of getting you. But I tried, I really did! I went on a mad scramble, visited all the designer stores you like, visited these random stores you probably wouldn't like, and I just couldn't find anything you don't have or would like. I have terrible taste, y'know-"
Atobe pictured Nanao, flustered, shuffling around the stores he normally visited – and a laugh bubbled up his throat.
"Okay, okay, I'm rambling again, I know. So, yeah. I decided to make you this video, because- I mean, I know you know you're great, but sometimes I think you miss the things that really matter? Like- I think you're great, too, but for completely different reasons than the ones you have- for better reasons. And I thought you should know.
"I just- I think you're an incredible person, Keigo. I mean, I- I'm kind of a little mess sometimes, losing things everywhere, hardly able to have my stuff together the perfect way you do, but I try. But you come in, and you're just this dazzling presence, for more than just the egomaniac presence you've built up."
Nanao laughed shortly. "Sorry- but you have a big ego. Anyways. You're dazzling not because of your looks or your money or your fangirls, but because you're you – you're so talented at everything you do, and you do it with this perfect air of calm, like you know that you're going to do well."
Nanao fiddled with her fingers in her lap, stared at them for a little while. "I just wanted to say thank you. For, you know, being you. And being in my life. I don't know if you know this, but- you've made an incredible impact on who I am, and I think that's just what you do – change things, change people. Make people really open their eyes and look at the world for the first time, and realize all the good things they can be."
She looked up at the screen at last, a small, hesitant smile beginning to grow on her lips. "I know that we're only friends now because we're supposed to be fake-dating, but- I'm really glad that you're my fake boyfriend. That we're fake-dating. Because you're honestly this insanely amazing, overwhelming person, and I know you're always stressing about your dad and stuff but- I just want to remind you that you're incredible, for so many more, better reasons than you think. And that you're going to be amazing, no matter what you do in the future."
She let out a long breath, paused, and smiled again – that big, foolishly-wide smile of hers, and shrugged.
"So…happy birthday, to my dear friend."
Darkness.
For a long time afterwards, Atobe didn't move – he simply alternated between smiling quietly at the screen, chuckling at various recollections from the movie, and staring thoughtfully at the dark television.
Silly girl.
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