A/N: Not much to say, other than…read and review, please? 8D I'll be replying to all the reviews soon!

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.

They should have seen this coming, really. At the very least, if Nanao hadn't, either Atobe or Oshitari should have – she would have thought so, thinking back on it all. She should have known that a day would come when the "jig was up," so to say; when the farce was uncovered, because-

-they may have somehow, miraculously, managed to fool the entire school and their parents, but she was Suzuki Nanao and he was Atobe Keigo, and really, the chances of them actually dating were less than none. This whole thing had been some twisted series of chance happenings gone awry, and it was often that Nanao had wondered how the hell she'd come to be pretending to be Atobe Keigo's girlfriend to begin with.

They were the least likely couple of all time, and anyone who knew them at all could see that it was ridiculous, this notion of them dating-

-so of course they'd be found out.

Well, alright, so perhaps when Keigo had said "But really I didn't expect everyone to buy that Nanao and I were dating," without realizing that Gakuto and Shishido were on the other side of the locker rooms, it may have tipped them off.

And when Oshitari-kun replied with "She turned out to be a better fake girlfriend than you expected, hm?", it might have been hitting the nail in the coffin.

"Wait, so- they're not actually dating?"

"No, you numbskull, what part of the words 'fake girlfriend' do you not understand-"

"Shut up, Gakuto."

"What? Aw, did I attack your poor Chou-chan?"

"Gekokujou."

"B-But why?"

"I'unno. Atobe's crazy, you know that. Maybe he gets a kick out of it."

"Something about- pushing off an arranged marriage?"

"What the fuck is this, some Korean drama?"

"Well, it's Atobe-"

"Usu."

"And Suzuki was actually crazy enough to go along with it?"

"Ryou, Atobe had you sky diving off a jetplane in a tutu, I'm pretty sure he could get a girl to pretend to be his fake girlfriend-"

"Shut up, you promised we're not fucking talking about that again-"

"That tutu flapped in the air, free as a bird-"

"It was quite elegant, Ryou."

At Oshitari's entrance into the conversation, everyone fell abruptly silent to instead turn flat eyes towards the boy. He sat beside a bored, sighing Atobe and a nervous, fretful Nanao at the end of the table.

"Shut up, you were in on it this whole time," Shishido snapped.

"Yuushi, I can't believe you didn't tell me. I'm your partner," Gakuto whined, before clinging to Oshitari's arm with his own.

Atobe raised a sharp brow.

"Gakuto, hush, those words are terribly open for misunderstandings."

"And you," Gakuto hissed. He turned his head with a mock-snarl to face Nanao, who visibly shrank under his stare, shoulders rising to her ears. "You lied to us!"

"I just-"

"Nanao, ignore this idiot. Gakuto, just eat your macaroons," Atobe rolled his eyes. He waved a hand elegantly in front of Nanao's face, thereby dispelling the intense concentration that the regulars had been staring at her with, and Gakuto, with a huff, popped a red treat into his mouth.

When Nanao really thought about it, the fact that they hadn't found out until now was preposterous.

Atobe Keigo was a certifiable idol on the campus of Hyotei Gakuen – Nanao wasn't sure if there was any other teenager in the country who arrived to school to face a horde of shrieking girls chanting his name. He was popular, undoubtedly so, but so far above the others that he had somehow ascended the rank of the normal popular kids, to become-

-a god.

And despite his staggering popularity and reputation on campus, he had few he claimed as friends, and even fewer that he regularly spent time with. In fact, Nanao would venture to say that the tennis team was his entire coterie, and though it made sense, considering how overwhelmingly popular each of the boys were on their own, it was still a bit strange, that Atobe's clique consisted of just a few boys.

But nevertheless, the tennis team regulars were his closest confidantes, and the privileged few who got to witness Atobe's true nature beyond the guise he often wore for the public. They had been his closest friends since the first year in middle school, and as third years in high school, now-

They were the ones who knew Atobe best.

It struck Nanao as odd, then, that they had never really questioned her status as his girlfriend. After all, she wasn't exactly the kind of girl that one envisioned Atobe dating – and hadn't it been obvious that he held no shred of interest towards her at all?

These particular thoughts flit through her head this afternoon as she sat on the bleachers, idly watching tennis practice unfold below, chin resting on her hands. A soft breeze wove through her hair, and Nanao found herself often brushing stray locks from her eyesight. The next time she did, she found-

Shishido in front of her, when her hair had cleared from her vision.

She blinked a few times in lazy surprise. He held a water bottle to his lips, perspiration clear on his skin, and it seemed as though he'd just finished a practice set with the second-year, Choutarou. Nanao turned her gaze back towards Atobe in the far right court.

"I seriously thought you two were dating," Shishido's voice cut through her blank state of mind.

Nanao blinked again. Her chin lifted almost hesitantly off of her hands as she sat up. "Um."

"I dunno. I wasn't expecting it, s'all. Not surprised Atobe's pulling this sort of crazy shit, but- I'm just surprised you two aren't for real." Shishido shrugged, and when Nanao continued to stare blankly, flushed a light red – perhaps in embarrassment for uncharacteristically talking out. He'd just thought to mention it, was all.

Just as he turned to leave, Nanao stopped him with a "But I- Why?"

Shishido turned back to face her, brow raised. Nanao faltered. "I, I just- I thought it would have been obvious I wasn't his girlfriend- I mean, it's Keigo."

Shishido gave her a strange stare, then. "Yeah. But Keigo's not the kind of guy people think he is. You know that."

Nanao's eyes grew wide, and she couldn't help but to fixate on those last words- "You know that," and the way he said it was as if it was an acknowledgement, like "It's good that you do," or "I'm glad you do." Nanao bit her lower lip.

Gakuto approached the bench next, and his walk was deliberate, unlike Shishido's – he had no other reason to approach than to confront Nanao, something that was reflected in the way he practically stalked towards her. He seemed to have finished – whatever he called that flipping business on his trampoline – and was now focusing on her with predatory eyes.

"Why aren't you two real?" Is what he blurts, and Nanao couldn't help but to lean back in sheer surprise.

"I-"

"I just- I thought you weren't horrible, okay?" Gakuto snapped, and Nanao got a creeping feeling that she had somehow offended him in that she wasn't really dating Atobe. "Like. You're not great or anything, but-" He paused and flailed a little, as though not sure of what to say next. "-But you weren't some backstabbing, money-grubbing, fake bitch."

He stalked away right after in a huff, and Nanao couldn't tell if she was supposed to take that as a compliment.

The last regular to speak to her was Choutarou. Jiroh had simply sent her a small, confused scrunch of his nose before burrowing into sleep again, and Kabaji had nodded solemnly to her; Hiyoshi had, well, said his usual line.

When Choutarou approached her, it hadn't been particularly intentional. He'd gone to the bleachers to fetch his towel, used to wipe faintly at his brow, and when he noticed her sitting a small distance away, gave her a bright smile. Nanao smiled back, because Choutarou was that kind of a sweet person where one couldn't help but to smile back when he offered one of his own.

"So um- I- I was surprised," he said quietly, shyly, as though he were striking up this conversation because he felt a need to fill the silence with something. "I didn't know you were, um."

"Fake?" Nanao huffed a soft laugh of her own.

Choutarou seemed embarrassed to have mentioned it at all. "It's just- I thought it was nice, 'was all. Atobe-senpai's so often disappointed by people who expect things of him that- that aren't really him, and you two seemed to get along so well that it was…nice."

Nanao was rendered speechless.

"Ah! Sorry, senpai – I have to get to another practice match. I'll see you around!"

At the end of the two hour practice, Nanao had busied herself with solving practice problems for the upcoming math exam in a few days. She hadn't noticed that practice had ended at all until a shadow suddenly cast itself over her head; when she peered up, it was Atobe, staring down at her with a bemused sort of expression. "You're such a nerd," he drawled, and Nanao frowned.

"Am not."

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Right." He leaned past her to grasp his water bottle as Nanao closed her book carefully. She watched him bring the bottle to his lips, when suddenly, the question fluttered to the forefront of her thoughts.

"Are you okay?"

Atobe coughed out the water he'd been sipping. "What?" His hand flew up to caress the side of his face. "Is something wrong with Ore-sama's face? Is there- is there a scar?" He sounds absolutely horrified at the prospect and Nanao couldn't help the stray thought that ah, he hadn't referred to himself as 'Ore-sama' to her in a while, now.

"No, there's no scar- what kind of question is that, even?" Nanao frowned.

Atobe pursed his lips. "Ore-sama's features are a work of art, you know- And why wouldn't I be okay?"

Nanao bit her lip, and her fingers idly twisted around the edges of her book. "Well, I just- I mean. It's not exactly normal to have a fake girlfriend, you know? I just. I just wanted to know if you were okay. Just- in general. With- life."

Atobe stared at her for several moments, brows arched so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "You're asking Ore-sama if his life is okay."

Nanao's expression grew defensive, and at that, Atobe promptly burst into laughter. What kind of psycho asked Atobe Keigo if his life was okay? He was currently eighteen, and perhaps the youngest to have been featured in the main social magazines as an 'eligible bachelor;' he was the Captain of the nationally ranked tennis club; he was the heir to a multi-billion yen company. He was flawlessly perfect, really, so this question was-

-something that no one had ever bothered to ask him before.

The laughter subsided as abruptly as it had come, and Atobe glanced at Nanao pensively, before looking away to busy himself with closing his bottle shut.

Nanao paused. "…Keigo?"

"'Okay' is a terrible word to use to describe life, don't you think?" he murmured, instead.

Nanao faltered.

"It's getting hot. I insist we leave this terrible weather for indoors."

Before Nanao could say anything, he'd picked up his belongings and headed towards the clubroom.

Nanao retrieved her necessary textbooks from her locker in the time that Atobe had stepped into the locker rooms after practice. She closed the door and twisted the lock closed, and for a moment, her fingers lingered on the metal surface, eyes staring blankly at the books in her arms.

"'Okay' is a terrible word to use to describe life, don't you think?"

Nanao bit her lip.

After the disastrous argument they'd had a few months ago the first time Nanao had tried to confront Keigo about- well, his father and his business and everything else in between, she'd learned to steer clear of the topic. Still, it was hard, watching him struggle with things that even twenty-eight year olds didn't have to deal with, when he was only eighteen. She hated that polished quirk of his lips that he used when he wasn't genuinely amused, because it'd been the smile she'd seen before on magazines and thought quite dazzling before she'd seen him really laugh.

She didn't quite fathom how he managed to be so clever and idiotic all at once, unable to recognize that he was far less happy than he deserved to be, when everyone around him clearly knew better.

Nanao's phone lit up with a received message, then, and she fished it out of her pocket: Yuushi wanted to go visit a new book store, and I suggested he take you. You're welcome, hopeless peasant.

She couldn't help the small flutter of excitement at the idea. All previous trails of thoughts forgotten, Nanao hurried down the hall and out the building, toward the front of the school – where she caught a glimpse of Atobe, who smirked at her before walking towards the waiting car, and Oshitari, who smiled politely as usual.

"Suzuki-san – I was wondering if you'd like to take a visit to a book store I recently passed-"

Nanao's lips widened into a smile, and the words Of course, yes, I'd love to, how could I not were about to spill out, when-

-behind Oshitari, Atobe gave her a sly, bemused little wink, and suddenly, Nanao's arms – which still held her books – lowered slightly. "Um. Actually- I had plans to work with Keigo on our project, today."

Oshitari nodded smoothly, another smile playing on his lips. "Of course. I just offered in case you were free this afternoon," he gave her a small nod.

"But um- I'd love to go another time, if you plan on going again."

Another smile. "Of course."

With a hesitant smile and a goodbye, Nanao hurried to Atobe's car.

Atobe had slid in comfortably on the plush leather seats, legs elegantly crossed and a glass of champagne in hand (he did so love to travel in style); he leaned back in his seat, and just as he parted his lips to say "Home, driver-" the door to the limo snapped open.

He turned a bewildered gaze to the entrance-

-where he found Nanao, bent over so she could peer inside, who smiled at him in that awfully apologetic way of hers.

"…What are you doing," he said, in more of a tone of a statement than a question, when Nanao promptly entered the car and buckled herself into the seat beside him.

"I thought we could work on our project today," she offered, holding up her textbook for emphasis.

Atobe's expression grew ghastly. "We're done."

Nanao frowned. "We still have to rehearse for the presentation, you know."

"…We already have. Twice."

"Practice makes perfect, Keigo."

"…Nanao, I demand you stop this terrible behavior of yours-"

"And besides, I thought your delivery was a little weak at the beginning-"

"How dare you-"

It was a few minutes before they finally got the car to start moving along.

It took another few hours for the two to get around to actually 'working' on the project, whereupon Nanao had declared that it was getting late anyway, and she ought to go home, five minutes into their first rehearsal.

Atobe had laughed a lot that particular evening, leaving Nanao with a proud, self-satisfied grin that he couldn't quite figure out.

The following afternoon found Nanao, as per usual, working dutifully on her homework assignments on the bleachers as she waited for Atobe to finish practice. Occasionally, she'd glance up to watch Oshitari practice and clap indulgently for Atobe whenever he pulled off an especially impressive maneuver. For the rest of the time, however, she busied herself in Greek and literature and mathematics.

It was towards the end of practice that Nanao finished all her schoolwork. Subsequently, she idly watched the boys run around the tennis courts as she lifted her papers and placed them carefully inside her book bag. Beside her, Shishido gulped down his water, the first regular to have completely finished his practice sets.

And then, Nanao saw it- saw her.

A tall, slender sort of girl, far taller than herself but shorter than Oshitari in a way that complimented him. The sunlight glittered off of her hair pin, and when she tossed her head back to laugh, Nanao saw such pretty features on the girl that she had to blink once, twice. The girl and Oshitari stood oddly close to one another, as though-

"Oh. Are they dating again?" she heard Shishido mutter, and she turned to face him so fast that her neck nearly hurt.

"What?" she half-squeaked, half murmured.

Shishido glanced at her as though he'd just noticed she was there. "Uh. Yeah. Shigohara and Yuushi were a thing like, way back," he waved his hand around haphazardly. "I think they have an on again, off again sorta thing? I dunno."

And then, a pause.

"I know Yuushi really likes her though, that sick bastard."

Nanao felt her heart drop to the pits of her stomach. "O-Oh." Well. She supposed that she ought to have known, because- Oshitari-kun was Oshitari-kun, and that absolutely perfect girl standing next to him was a flawless match and how could she not have known that Oshitari-kun would have such a beautiful girlfriend?

Atobe saw the exact same thing she'd been watching for a while, now, and the moment e did, he turned around to look at Nanao; when he saw the pitifully morose expression on her features, he pursed his lips. "Fucking Yuushi," he breathed.

After practice, Atobe attempted to approach Nanao; she wouldn't have any of it, and with a poorly mustered smile and an even poorer excuse about 'unfinished homework,' she rushed home without making eye contact.

"Really, Yuushi?"

"…What?"

"Don't act coy with me, you tart."

"…Did you just call me a tart?"

"Yes, yes I did. That tacky, awful display in the courts today-"

"Minako-chan stopped by to return a textbook she borrowed."

"And then you two were talking and laughing."

"Yes, Keigo, laughing – such utter tackiness. What was I thinking?"

"Just. Shut up. You are insufferable."

"Thank you, love."

"Don't call me that-"

"I love you, dear."

"God."

"Yuushi, Keigo. Not God. You flatter me so-"

"Shut up!"

Nanao was-

She wasn't quite sure what she was. She wasn't happy, and she would like to describe this feeling as sadness, but- it wasn't an overwhelming heartbreak, like she thought it might be. But there was still that stark sense of desolate disappointment, of lament and-

-just a sad sort of resignation, she supposed.

With a long sigh, she burrowed deeper into her bed, despite the fact that it was hardly six. Perhaps sleeping would make her feel better.

And it was stupid for her to feel like this, because it wasn't as though she couldn't have seen this coming, because of course Oshitari-kun already had a gorgeous, perfect girl he liked. And really, this was silly, and she was far smarter than to be so sad over this, but it was just- It was just disappointing.

She'd be okay.

She'd get over it. She was Suzuki Nanao; she didn't get all mopey over things like this-!

Just then, the sound of an opening and closing door caused her to peek out of her covers. She didn't get a vision of anyone, but instead, felt a weight pressing down on the side of her bed next to her. When Nanao craned her neck a little more, she found Atobe, looking down at her with pursed lips and a flat-eyed gaze.

"Yuushi's an idiot."

Nanao sighed.

"Shigohara Minako is a terrible, terrible human being."

A burst of laughter escaped her lips, and Atobe lifted his own into a small smile.

"It'll be okay," he murmured, before patting her gently on the head.