A/N: Hello my readers! Ugh ugh school is awful, and I promise once summer starts I'll resume the previous uploading speed I had - I'll update RA and Because I Said So and all those stories, I swear, so please bear with me and don't abandon your poor coffee! Uhu~
Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.
They say that crying is a cathartic experience. That the awful, awful experience of having hot tears trail down your cheeks and leave an uncomfortable puffiness behind is something that's good for you, because it lets you let out the pent up emotions and get over it and move on. Nanao had always thought that the idea was absurd – because when she cried, she ended up with painful, bleary eyelids the next morning, ended up crying herself to sleep, ended up with a headache from crying so much.
But the day after she cries over Oshitari Yuushi, she thinks that perhaps, she's starting to understand this whole 'cathartic' business. She feels better – lighter, and she doesn't know how to explain it other than the feeling of some burden being lifted from her chest. She can breathe, now, can think of Oshitari-kun without having that odd fluttering feeling in her stomach.
So that next Monday, Nanao rises from bed feeling oddly refreshed, puts on her uniform with her usual fastidiousness and makes sure her ribbon is tied neatly at her nape. She checks her messages, replies to Keigo's usual sardonic wit with a lighthearted nature, and steps downstairs to have breakfast. Today, she thinks, as she peers at the sun beginning to seep over the horizon from her window, will be a nice day.
When Keigo's message lights up her phone screen, Nanao puts down her glass of orange juice, picks up her leather school bag, and neatly exits the door and into the waiting limousine outside.
That day at lunch, Oshitari, ever the gentleman, gifts Nanao with a small box of beautiful, ornately crafted cupcakes from a high-end bakery down the street. He's apologetic and full of genuine pardon, and of course Nanao can't help but to offer one of her sweet smiles and say its okay, that she understands, and is Shigohara-san's ankle alright? Atobe is late to their usual table, and for now, it's just the two of them, being the polite, mild-mannered people they are.
And for the first time in a while, Nanao feels completely at ease with Oshitari-kun. Because gone are the butterflies, gone are the fairy tale thoughts of him being a prince charming; it's strange, but it's nice, how she can finally relax, and begin to see Oshitari-kun as a person rather than a boy. And perhaps now, she thinks, they can begin to be- friends.
Oshitari-kun is, for all of his genius eccentricities and obsession with romance novels, quite a nice person. He's cultured, worldly, and quietly humorous with a decidedly sharp ironic tongue that makes itself known once in a rare occasion. Nanao likes this, likes him, but not in a way that makes her heart flutter faster – she likes him in a way that makes her think oh, wow, this boy is cool, and it'd be awfully nice if they could be friends.
They trade stories of their weekend, laugh over Keigo's antics, and it's like this that Atobe finds them when he arrives – laughing, humor written into the lines on their features. For a moment, he pauses – but he sees that Nanao's laugh is genuine, is real, and feels himself relax a little.
He descends coolly into his own seat, and the two's eyes fall on him. Because whenever Atobe is in the room, he is the center of attention, the center to which the social structure gravitates, because- he's Atobe.
It's been several months since the declaration of Atobe Keigo and Suzuki Nanao's relationship. The flurry of excitement, of disbelief and clamor has passed, leaving behind a quiet acceptance and tranquility. Nanao and Keigo still hold hands occasionally, still press lips chastely against one another's cheeks, and Nanao still staunchly supports her supposed boyfriend at each match, practice or otherwise. The members of their upper class may be quiet, but they are sharp and keen, and even the smallest signs of distance between them would alert the wolves of blood.
It's still a rite of passage for a first year to catch a glimpse of the couple, to catch Atobe Keigo tucking a lock of hair behind Suzuki Nanao's ear, to watch as he laughs – genuinely – at something she says. But for now, things have lapsed back into the mundane.
Nanao's in the middle of doing some reading for her next class during break, when several of her friends scoot closer in their chairs, until suddenly she's surrounded on all sides. They look at her with bright, bright curiosity in their eyes, curves on their lips and anticipation hanging on their expressions. "Nanao," one of them prompts.
They're going to ask about Atobe. Going to ask what he's like, if he's as great a boyfriend as they all think he would be, if they're still interested in one another- "What's Oshitari-kun like?"
At that, Nanao pauses, surprise entering her eyes. Oshitari-kun? "I mean- you're dating Atobe-kun, so you're around the regulars like, all the time, right? What's Oshitari-kun like? He's always so…mysterious."
He's- He's not mysterious, not in the way these girls think he is. But Nanao thinks that she knows where they're coming from, because not too long ago, she'd been convinced that he was mysterious and alluring in his ambiguity, that he was charming in his anonymity. But she's seen him pore over clichéd romance novels, seen him banter with Keigo, seen him when he makes lewd comments about girls' legs. It makes him less mysterious, more humorous, but in a way, makes him even more charming than when she'd thought he was some prince figure in the shadows.
Nanao finds him charming in an entirely different way now, in a way that only comes when one's seen how close he is with Keigo, how much he cares about his best friend. Oshitari-kun is honest, and speaks in riddles for the fun of it; he's a genius, but it's hard to tell sometimes, with his obsession with third-rate romance literature and girls' perfect figures and the way he pines after Shigohara Minako.
It's endearing.
But it's endearing in a different way from a crush, and Nanao realizes that she's even thought of his pining for Shigohara Minako endearing. It's then that it dawns on her that ah, she really must be over him, for it to be something she finds humorous and charming. She thinks that rather, Keigo is the boy who can capture a girl's heart in a single second, with all of his surprising sincerity and care and aching kindness. Oshitari-kun is glamorous and charming, yes, but it is Keigo who's always-
Who's always been the obvious choice, not for the reasons he's gained his mass popularity, but the little, hidden quirks of his personalities that nobody even knows.
It's always been Keigo, don't these girls realize? Oshitari-kun may be the graceful gentleman, may be another dazzling figure beside Keigo, but once the initial infatuation fades, there's really nothing that can hold a candle to Keigo.
Nanao's lashes flutter for a moment, and something clouds her eyes, causes her lips to part in a blank daze.
"Nanao?" one concerned friend reaches out and taps her shoulder lightly, and Nanao blinks, looks up and gives an apologetic smile.
"Oh. Yeah, I- Sorry. I was just- thinking."
"You're helpless."
The next week, Keigo is called into his father's office. He was in the middle of texting both Yuushi and Nanao – in separate conversations – and listening to Yuushi explain, in great detail, what he'd be doing for his and Shigohara's date today (insert Keigo's long-suffering sigh here). It's a date in Ginza, that'll most likely end up as more of a 'Yuushi follows Shigohara around to her favorite stores and showers her in presents,' but then, Keigo supposes that Yuushi's never minded that.
He's about to find out what Nanao's plans for the day are, when he's called into his father's office; he slips his phone into his pocket and heads over to meet his father.
Atobe Akihiko was a man of great stature – a man so wealthy, so powerful, that people often thought he might as well run for Prime Minister of Japan. Likewise, his office was designed in such a way as to intimidate, to quell the spirit of anyone who entered, until Akihiko could toy with them as his whims may please. It was a circular room, outlay with deep, dark maroon walls and heavy, velvet-cushioned furniture, upholstered with only the most expensive of tastes.
His desk – a grand mahogany affair – sat in the direct center of the room; in front of it, two large chairs, facing his desk.
This meeting isn't anything out of the ordinary. His father likes to summon him to his office every once in a while, to touch base, to see how his studies are going and if the tennis tournament is advancing well. He asks Keigo if the business proposals are written yet, tells him how he did on the last fiscal quarter report, informs him if there are any future board meetings to sit in on; at the end, he'll look at Keigo in the eye – with the same gaze that makes Keigo feel as though he were silly an five, not eighteen and with incredible accolades to his name – and say "You're dismissed."
These meetings are routine and regular, and Keigo's used to them – but it doesn't make them any less important, and they're actually something that he's regularly nervous about. One of the few things that actually makes Atobe Keigo antsy, of all things.
Keigo arrives in his father's study, nods in respect and seats himself at the right chair in front of the desk. His father doesn't look up for a few minutes, clicking through emails and leaving behind a silence broken only by austere tapping on the keyboard. When Atobe Senior finally glances up, Keigo is there, back straight and gaze held at firm attention.
"How are your grades faring, Keigo?"
And the conversation sweeps into a familiar lull; Keigo tells his father of his straight A's, of the team's advancement into semi-finals, of his progress on his business tutoring at home. His father asks lazy questions about maintaining societal relationships, of the importance of keeping up the Atobe namesake, until a phone call interrupts the conversation.
As his father answers the phone, Keigo dares a glance at his phone, and finds two text messages.
Minako wants to head to Blu – you know, that boutique? I do quite like their clothes; we're going there now, and perhaps I could get her to try on a few dresses for me. – Yuushi
I'm on my way to Blu! My sister asked me to pick up something she placed on hold, and since I'm out running errands anyway, I figured I might as well. – Nanao
Keigo's eyes widen.
He thinks of Nanao sitting there against the wall, waiting for a Yuushi that won't show up, gaze painfully hopeful and resigned. He thinks of Nanao – genuine, kind Nanao – and the way she deflates a little when she sees Yuushi glance at Shigohara, thinks of the way even the little things make her happy and the way it feels awful when she's sad, because she asks for so little to begin with. He thinks of how pitiful and ridiculous this is, thinks of how she'd look if she saw Yuushi and Shigohara on a date-
His father puts down the phone, and Keigo's in the midst of standing up. "Keigo? Where are you-"
"I apologize, father – something dire has come up."
A disapproving glance from Atobe Senior, and Keigo feels a sharp jab in his chest. "Keigo, that's-"
"I will reflect on my scheduling error as soon as I return – I must go now," he amends, bows his head in apology and goodbye, and rushes out the door.
Atobe Senior is left blinking, frowning, in his wake.
On the way to his car, Keigo feels an odd sort of exhilaration – he's never left his father like this, never ever interrupted one of their solemn meetings in such a manner. He wonders if he's made a terrible, terrible mistake, but the image of Nanao's quivering eyes makes him quicken his pace, because she's this weak little thing that will certainly break if she sees Yuushi and Shigohara.
He tries sending a quick message to Nanao – Don't go to Blu, come to the coffee shop that we went to last time – but figures that she won't listen, or won't receive it on time anyway, and presses the gas pedal.
Back in Ginza, Nanao has reached Blu. She'd texted Keigo back on her plans for the day, but he hasn't replied, and she figures that he has important things to do – as per usual. As she glances at a window shop, she thinks that the jacket hanging on the mannequin would look awfully nice on Keigo, but hurries past it. What ridiculous thinking.
She arrives at Blu, sees the sign from a few paces away.
She also sees a glimpse of dark blue hair and tanned skin, and frowns. Is that Oshitari-kun? Nanao cranes her neck a bit, takes a few tentative steps forward. And then, she catches a glimpse of shining black curls and a glittering jeweled hair clip, and realizes, with a blink, that he's on a date with Shigohara Minako. Good for him! she thinks with a smile that's genuinely happy for her friend, glad that he finally scored one with the girl he's pined after.
Nanao takes one more step forward, intent on going up and greeting them, when she's suddenly lurched backwards.
A hand is covering her eyesight, had pulled her back and against a solid, sturdy chest, and she's enveloped in a familiar warmth and scent of cologne and lavender. She feels the blood rushing in her ears, is momentarily disoriented – because what? – and can't quite figure out what's happening, when a familiar voice speaks in her ear, smooth and low and breath blowing across the shell of her ear. "I told you not to go to Blu."
The voice is a little out of breath, but it's familiar, achingly so, and has Nanao's heart leaping in a way unlike the way it'd done for Oshitari-kun. "Is this- Keigo?"
She moves to move his hand off of her eyes, but it clamps down instead, and Nanao is so bewildered that she lets it. "What are you-"
"You're such a troublesome idiot," he sighs.
Keigo reaches the parking lot near Blu in record time. He's slamming on the brakes and rushing out the door, just barely remembering to lock it before he runs off. By the time he reaches the store itself, he has to scan the crowds – he sees Yuushi and Shigohara first (and can't stop the immature sneer he has at her expense), and then, Nanao, a few paces away, eyes caught on Yuushi.
She's seen them.
And then, he sees it – Yuushi, turning around and leaning towards Shigohara's lips in a manner that leaves no room for questioning.
Keigo's eyes widen. He can't – he can't let Nanao see this, can't let her seeing the boy she likes kiss another girl. He ignores the way that he feels a little spike in his side at the thought boy she likes, ignores the way that it bothers him, just a bit. Instead, he's moving forward, rushing to reach her before Yuushi kisses Shigohara-
-and he barely makes it in time to reach out and clasp a hand over her eyes, drag her backwards to stumble against his chest as he covers her vision. He's heaving his breaths, hurried and almost frantic, but sighs in relief when he sees Yuushi press his lips against Shigohara's then pulls away.
Nanao is obviously confused, and Keigo tries to tell himself that it's not fondness in his eyes when he looks down at her disgruntled form.
She makes a motion to move his hand, but then Keigo sees Yuushi brush a lock of hair from her face (seriously, how much PDA were these fuck-twats going for?) and so he clamps down. No, no, no; Nanao doesn't deserve anymore heartbreak and sadness, not when she's the one who deserves happiness more than any of the fucked up, jaded and insincere people in their circle.
"Peekaboo," Keigo murmurs, instead, and feels Nanao tense in confusion for a moment, before she bursts out, laughing.
The sound is pleasant, as always, refreshing to his ears in a way nothing else has been.
"What? You're silly," she laughs, in a breathless, what-are-you-saying kind of way.
Keigo can't help his own laugh.
Keigo only removes his hand once Yuushi and Shigohara are gone. Nanao turns around and eyes him weirdly, because why is he here, and didn't he have plans for that day? Keigo shrugs, says he felt like getting some fresh air, and felt like making fun of her lack of awareness to her surroundings.
Nanao, predictable as always, forgets about Oshitari (but it's not that she's airheaded, it's that Keigo is here, and her attention has always, always been captivated away by him, Oshitari-kun or no) and turns to laugh at him for being silly.
The two spend the day in Ginza, being silly and being teenagers and being real in a way that makes Keigo feel refreshed.
And this is how things go on.
Nanao is over Oshitari-kun – truly. She thinks it's cute, the way he pines after Shigohara-san, thinks it's adorable how she rolls his eyes at him but quirks a finger forward anyway, thinks it's awfully endearing the way Oshitari-kun scrambles to come at her beck and call. It's strange, seeing the composed Oshitari-kun pining for a girl, and Shigohara-san is as deeply cool as always, waving away his affections with a pretty manicured hand.
But then, Nanao catches Shigohara-san smile discreetly, for a moment, at the flowers Oshitari-kun got her, and she can't help but think that the two will make it out alright anyway.
It's better than any of the trashy romance novels Oshitari-kun has tucked away, in her opinion.
Her heart doesn't race anymore when he smiles, but when he does, she smiles brightly back, because she genuinely enjoys his company. He, too, now seeks her out regularly, for coffee or for book store discoveries – because they're kindred spirits, of sorts. Calm and levelheaded (for the most part) in the midst of crazy, crazy people, with a deep abiding love for quiet afternoons of nothing but tea and books. They know how to enjoy silence, know how to feel comfortable in it, rather than to try and fill it awkwardly with even more awkward words.
They're comfortable with one another, suit one another in a relaxing way – and Nanao realizes now that they'd have never worked out, because they're too alike, too complacent with one another, and it's not exhilarating, the way-
-the way Keigo is. Exhilarating and enchanting and all-encompassing, until she's left breathless and unable to pay attention to anything else when he's holding court. But that's just who he is, capable of such charm, with such an aching sincerity that's concealed beneath his larger-than-life persona. And Nanao adores it, adores him, wants to spend as much time as she can in his presence.
Keigo, for his part, tries his best. He tries his best to leave Nanao and Yuushi on their own, because even though Yuushi's head over heels for the perfect robot Shigohara, he knows that Nanao still likes him. He ignores the steadily increasing discomfort he feels when he hears their inside jokes, their recollections of "the other day" when they did something fun, and instead, lets Nanao lean against him and offers her his steady support.
It all comes to a head five days later, in Keigo's room.
Yuushi has come over for a little conversation with his best friend and is seated at the tea table; Keigo chooses to stand, reorganizing his closet because some of the maids still haven't learned that he wants his silken purple shirts separated from his cashmere purple sweaters. Jesus, it's not rocket science.
"-I think you like her."
Keigo pauses abruptly at this, fingers slipping from the silk it had taken purchase in. He hadn't been paying attention to the conversation until this statement from Yuushi, and now his eyes are faintly widened, and he turns in surprise. "What?"
Yuushi's wearing that infuriating, all-knowing smirk of his.
"I think you know who we're talking about."
Keigo's heart stutters for a moment, but he'll never admit it. He knows who Yuushi is talking about, but has too much pride to admit it; he also has too much pride to feign ignorance, too, so instead, he says, "You're being highly unattractive right now, Yuushi."
"No denials, then?"
"Would you believe me?"
"Not for a moment, my darling."
Keigo rolls his eyes. "You're insufferable – how does Shigohara stand it?"
"It must be my devilish charm, or my handsome looks."
"Wasn't it the chocolate you gifted her, sitting on top of the trash outside the classroom?"
"She prefers white chocolate; it was my fault for getting her milk chocolate."
"Nobody likes milk chocolate nowadays; it's 2014, Yuushi, get with the times."
"I concede that it was my fault on the chocolate."
"Thank you-"
"Stop distracting me with Minako's chocolate preferences!"
A pause, and an amused smirk. "I'm not the one waxing poetic about what kind of damned chocolate she likes, you pitiful boy."
"Are we so different, though? Your maids have Nanao's favorite tea and preparation memorized."
"It's a matter of practicality – she's here often, per your idea of being my fake girlfriend, so-"
"I think you've forgotten that it's 'fake,' somewhere along the line."
Yuushi's voice is teasing, but the words strike too close to home for Keigo to feel comfortable. When had he stopped thinking of her as a necessary nuisance, a farce he'd have to keep up just long enough to throw his father off the trail? When had she stopped being 'the girl wretched at Greek,' and started being 'Nanao, I want frozen yogurt, I demand your presence now'? He can't remember, can't place a finger when one ended and the other had began.
He can only step back and look and observe in horror, as he realizes that she's spilled beyond the boundaries he'd planned on, until she's settled bits of herself in aspects – so many, too many – of his life.
It's dangerous, and he oughtn't have let it get so far. Perhaps his father was right – perhaps he was immature and foolish still, if he couldn't keep one silly girl at bay.
A long pause. "Then perhaps I should stop."
"What-? You don't mean-"
"It's nearly the end of the school year, anyway. I've made it to the end of high school, nearly; father won't make me entertain another marriage proposal for at least a few months, in respect to the Suzuki family. It would be as good a time as any to stop this farce now."
"Keigo, you're being ridiculous-"
"No, Yuushi." His voice was stiff and cold. "I'm simply being practical. You're right. This fake relationship is no longer necessary. It's time it ends."
Yuushi recognizes the cold seeping into his voice, recognizes it for what it is, and he hates it, can't help panicking a bit when Keigo starts slamming up his walls.
"You like her – Keigo, I've been your best friend for nearly seven years. She's it – she's the real deal, she's good, she's good for you, this makes you happy and you're never happy enough-"
"That's ridiculous-"
"It's not. You're the one being ridiculous – you like her, Keigo! Why are you just letting this all go-"
"What shall I do then, Yuushi? Date her, actually?" He didn't even mention the fact that he wasn't even the one she was pining after, that Yuushi was, that he hadn't even been able to attract the attention of the silly girl. "And then, what? When I start getting in too deep, have my father pull the plug? Because – have you forgotten? The reason we started this farce? Don't be stupid, Yuushi."
"Keigo – don't be like this- don't start shutting things out, like you always do, because you don't have to, you don't have to do this-"
"Contrary to your beliefs, Yuushi, you don't have me all figured out." Keigo's voice had taken a sharp, dangerous tone, one that Yuushi was well-familiar with. You don't mess with an Atobe, everyone in this circle learned early. There were a few golden societal rules to follow, always, when one was born into the caste that they were in.
Don't be crass, maintain class, maintain elegance and the idea that you are untouchable in your wealth and heritage. Work from the outside in when using silverware on the table. Dab your lips, not wipe. Maintain upkeep on your property.
Never, ever, cross an Atobe.
Atobe's lips curve into a professional, patented cross between a sneer and a smirk, privileged and gleaming with all the defenses of his sharp wit and societal standing. Yuushi had never seen it directed at him. "I'm not some broken, sad boy who's 'guarding his heart' – this isn't one of your trifling novels, Yuushi. I'm an Atobe. I do things that need to be done, and cut off unnecessary things when they've ceased to be an asset."
But when has Nanao ever been an asset? She's the opposite, of anything, with her stumbling and odd naivete at times and striking cynicism at others. She's far too open and guileless to survive in their world, and all she's done is trouble him; she's never been an asset, but he'd always kept her anyway, because-
Keigo cuts off the toxic train of thought. "She's no longer of use to me." She's not a use, but she does the thing that all the 'assets' in the world have never been able to, manages to pull off what none of the trained society girls had never been able to. She lights up a room, smiles like she means it, makes people happy for once in their fake, glittering lives-
"It's over."
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