A/N: First off, PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END. Second – oh, hello, fast update. Hohoho. I'm sick in bed, and just had a lot of muse, and thought that I'd update IAG, since I haven't in a while. Uhu. I'm still replying to the reviews for the last chapter, so some have had theirs replied to, and some haven't, but don't worry I'll get to them!

Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.

"Hi, Oshitari-kun!" Nanao waves him over with a bright smile. The girl is seated beside the wide window of the café, sunlight streaming directly onto her features – delicate, gentle, and strangely pretty when she's smiling so openly, so unguarded in a way that he's rarely seen people at their school do. She seems genuinely happy to see him, is quite open with her enthusiasm; there's a charm to Minako's reserved and aloof manner, yes, but there's something to this, too.

For a moment, Oshitari pauses, thinks that he can see why Keigo had found her so special. He snaps back into action afterwards with a polite smile of his own, and moves forward to take the seat opposite of Nanao.

"Did you enjoy the book?" she asks after her recommendation as soon as he does, and he's momentarily distracted by the conversation.

"I did – very much. Interesting literary style, I must admit-"

"I know, it's a little unconventional, but I think it's quite mind boggling-"

This is the way in which the conversation flows for the news few minutes, until a natural lull takes over. It doesn't feel awkward in the way a lot of silences feel when they crop up between people, because Nanao is a girl who knows to treasure the quiet, who knows to be comfortable in it. Oshitari is, too. They sip their tea, fill the emptiness with the clattering of china and serene expressions, until-

"How are things with you and Keigo?"

Nanao startles. "Keigo? Things?"

Oshitari's smile is fond, bemused. This girl is dangerous, he thinks, because she so easily elicits this response from people – fondness, bemusement. "Are you two still bickering all the time?"

At that, Nanao laughs. "Well – you see us, don't you? We don't bicker all that much, I don't think; he's just a bit of a prat sometimes, you know."

And Oshitari likes that Nanao calls Keigo a prat, that she doesn't mindlessly think he's the pinnacle of perfection the way most girls do. And he likes the expression on her face when she does so – that overwhelmingly fond, soft smile.

"But- he's the most wonderful person I've ever met." Her voice is quiet, serious despite the smile on her lips, sincerity brimming from her eyes. "He's- kind of like a dream, don't you think? Incredibly amazing, but just on this side of real that it makes you delude yourself into thinking he's real." Nanao shrugs helplessly. "He's Keigo," as if that explains everything.

And if her words did not, her expression – adoring, terrible vulnerable in a way that made Oshitari want to reach out and tell her not to show the world all her emotions so easily – certainly did.

Oshitari picks up his teacup, takes a sip. "I'm glad you know," he murmurs into his drink, and Nanao catches the words, looks up with an inquisitive expression.

"What?"

He sets his tea back on the table. Oshitari tips his head to the side with a deceptively sweet smile. "Nothing." Nanao blinks, relaxes, just as Oshitari parts his lips to say: "So about how you like my best friend-"

His words are so deceptively casual, flung about with an achingly blasé nature, that it takes Nanao a moment to register them. He knows exactly the moment when she does, for her eyes widen and her fingers clench around her skirt. Oshitari thinks that my, Keigo's found a girl who really does wear her heart on her sleeves, and how silly is that? Because all those years ago, when they'd first become good friends that strange day in first year of junior high-

"If you could have any kind of girl at all-"

"I already can," a twelve year old Atobe interrupts an equally aged Oshitari, with a haughty smirk on his lips and amusement in his eyes.

Oshitari's lips quirk into a smile of his own. "Excuse me. Allow me to rephrase: if you could choose one girl, in a world where you could pick a girl regardless of her social class or her family or her background, what kind of girl would it be?"

They'd do this a lot often, when they were young, when they were still busy dreaming of the future that might be. Silly things, they'd been.

Atobe's quiet for a moment, before- "A strong-willed girl."

Oshitari huffs of a laugh. Strange, that such an arrogant boy would actually want a girl who has a will of her own-

But he's not done yet. "…But if I could really dream up any girl, real or not- I think I'd like one that wears her heart on her sleeve."

Oshitari's surprised. Astounded, even, to the point where no words will come to his tongue for a few minutes. Afterwards, he laughs. "I'm sorry to say, my darling, but you won't find one that you'll be allowed to wed." After all, what girl in their world grows up without learning the cardinal rule?

Shut your lips and allow your silence to do the talking; always imply, never tell. If you can help it, don't even imply – ambiguity and secrets are the way this world runs.

Atobe rolls his eyes at him. "You're the one playing 'let's make a fictional girl.' I never said she was real."

Well, Oshitari thinks.

He stands corrected on this.

Nanao's still speechless, and it's almost endearing, how naïve she can be. Were he not a gentleman, he'd part his lips and show his fangs, show her how badly it can end when she always bars her throat to people. But Oshitari is nothing if not a perfect gentleman, so instead, he laughs quietly.

"Don't look so surprised, dear."

Nanao's expression slowly fades into one of sheepishness, and another spark of endearment pierces Oshitari. Somehow this girl manages to worm her way into people's hearts, make them want to protect her tender throat instead of shred it, make them take her under their wing because she's helpless, see?

Dear god, Keigo had never stood a chance.

Oshitari wants to say that Nanao is like the little sister he never had – but there are two things wrong with that. For one, he does have a little sister: sharp-tongued and sly Erina. For another, Nanao is nothing like Erina – Erina, who will enter Hyotei's high school division next year, who has already conquered the girls' fencing team with her hidden ferocity. Erina, who, had she been Nanao's peer, would have delighted in tearing her apart just because she could.

He finds a quiet amusement in this revelation.

"Was it- was it that obvious?" she asks, and Oshitari could kiss her for being so forthcoming and honest about her feelings, and could slap her at the same time and ask her doesn't she know that it's dangerous to be so open?

Instead, he only smiles kindly, and says "To me, perhaps."

She sighs, then shrugs a little. "But I mean- who wouldn't fall for Keigo?"

She says Keigo like she means Keigo, their affable little prat who spends hours debating between shades of similar purple, not Atobe Keigo, the beautiful god that the rest of their school has become enamored with. She likes Keigo – with his insecurities about his father and with his temper and with his habit of exorbitant excess – and not the Atobe image he's built.

Oshitari likes this Nanao.

"More people than you'd think – but don't dare tell him I said so."

Nanao laughs, carefree and open.

This must be what heartbreak feels like. But then, Nanao tells herself, that's silly, because- because it wasn't as if there was anything here to break, to begin with. It had all been a farce, anyway, so-

"What?" The small, helpless word escapes her lips anyway. Keigo's words had been achingly clear, so straightforward an idiot would have known what he meant. But Nanao can't help it, can't help the confusion, can't help the way she feels overwhelmed and derailed. She can't help the way her chest is squeezing tighter and tighter, until she can't breathe.

Keigo's eyes are calm as they regard her casually. "I think we should stop pretending to date. I don't see a use for it any longer – it's run its proper course, and we're due to graduate soon. It'll be fine to break up, now."

Don't be an idiot, she tells herself. They hadn't actually been dating. He's not actually breaking up with her.

But right now, with this unfamiliar space between them, it feels like he is, it feels like this is what an actual breakup feels like.

"…Oh." Because he'd even explained it, he'd laid it all bare for her to figure it out. She understood. She understood, but she couldn't help the way her heart broke a little more, anyway.

How pathetic she'd been, to be happy to be his fake girlfriend.

How stupid.

How silly.

"We're still-" friends, she wants to say. But then, how can they be friends after all of this? How can they be friends when their routine had been to meet, to press a kiss against each other's cheeks, to sit with their hands intertwined as a show for the masses? Even if it had all been a show, it was what they were, and Nanao doesn't know how to be just a friend when her heart feels like its splitting in two at the fact.

"We're still doing the project together. Don't worry," he murmurs, and Nanao feels that last piece of heart flutter to the ground, crumpled and ignored.

She puts on her best smile and nods. "Okay. I'll- I'll see you at school tomorrow." She waves a cheerful goodbye and walks out of his room, trying her hardest not to wonder if this was the last time she'd see it, if this was the last time she'd even be this close to him.

He isn't being ridiculous, the way Yuushi seems to think he's being.

Yuushi thinks that he's being a coward, that he's simply running because he doesn't want to have to face his emotions. Yuushi is so far out of his depth that it borders on hilarious, and Keigo wonders how he could have missed the mark so badly, when Yuushi is the person who knows him best.

He's Atobe Keigo – his primary instinct is to reach out and grab what he wants, consequences be damned. He could do it. He could reach out, woo Nanao, persuade her to fall for him and not Yuushi, coax her towards himself.

But then, what would be the point?

Had they all forgotten why he'd met Nanao at all?

Because he was pushing off an inevitable arranged marriage – not cancel, delay. It was going to happen eventually, whether that be in a few months, or a year, or two. Keigo was a strategist who would take over the Atobe empire; if he was so stupid as to start a venture that would have to close in the long run anyway, his father wouldn't let him manage a small shop, let alone the entire kingdom.

Keigo realized this – he realized that even if everything worked out perfectly (which wasn't a given on its own), they would have to break up, anyway. They'd break up, and he'd walk away unscathed, because that's what Atobes did: they were fine, regardless of how much damage they took.

But Nanao would not, because she's a girl trying to play in a league that's so beyond her capabilities it's frightening.

This whole thing is pointless.

Oshitari finds her sitting in the school gardens, legs crossed and a pitifully sad expression on her face. It's heartbreaking, because it isn't as obvious as the rest of her expressions usually are – it's faint, just barely visible in the way her eyes lid and her brows quirk slightly upward.

She looks up at him, and her lips curve into a small, rueful smile; it makes her expression so desolate that even Oshitari feels the urge to comfort her. "I got rejected – I think."

He moves to sit beside her. She leans her head back to peer up at the sky, a sigh exhaling from her lips as she stretches her arms over her head. "I suppose this one's on me, though – it was a bit silly of me, to fall for Keigo…given the circumstances we were in."

She shrugs, and forces a smile on her lips before turning to face Oshitari. "This must be what heartbreak feels like, huh?" Because it's so different from what she'd felt with Oshitari. This one feels- this one feels raw, jagged, but blurry and dull, as though it hasn't quite hit yet. She thinks that it'll hit later, when she's alone in her room, sudden and fast.

Like a car wreck.

This is real heartbreak, she thinks, and wants to laugh at how stupid she'd been, to fall for Keigo.

All Oshitari can think of is how wrong and ugly Nanao's smile looks at the moment, because- this isn't right, this isn't the smile that can light up a room that she's always had, this isn't the smile that he's seen Keigo look at with wonder.

"You told him how you felt?" he murmurs, after a long while. They've simply been sitting here, side by side, for-

Half an hour? Perhaps. He hadn't been checking the time.

Nanao stirs besides him, huffs a sheepish, quiet laugh. "No, I- I just stood there, while he talked. He said- he said that we should end our fake relationship, because it's served its purpose." The smile slips from her lips at last, and even though the ensuing expression is anything but happy, Oshitari prefers this to the fake curve she'd placed on her features. Nanao peers down at her hands, clenched around her skirt.

"I was just being silly."

Oshitari sighs, too, then stares ahead quietly. "I think you should tell him."

Nanao breathes a small laugh. "I think that would be a very bad idea."

Oshitari peers at her from out of the corner of his eyes, and she meets it with her own gaze: wide, vulnerable. "Is it?" he murmurs.

"Are you scared?"

Nanao pauses.

"Hasn't Keigo taught you better?"

At that, Nanao stills completely. Oshitari's lips curve into a small smirk.

The next two weeks are painful, awkward.

It's strange.

Keigo had thought that he'd be better than this – better disciplined. He hadn't thought that Nanao would have invaded his life so much, hadn't thought that memories of her presence would linger in so many things in his life. They're in everything, from the shirt she'd bought him in his closet to the thin pink pen she'd left behind on his desk, to the way he can recall her shoe size when he passes the womens section in the department store.

He misses her presence by his side when he watches a movie, because he can't quite clearly remember the last movie he'd watched alone, without her. He'd taken her to his favorite restaurant so much that it had become hers, until he knew her favorite order inside out. He can't remember a time he'd fallen asleep to nothing but the silence, instead of the beep of a message on his phone; can't think of the last time he'd gone shopping by himself.

Because Nanao had done a startling fantastic job of slipping away from his life, of retreating back until they were nothing more than kind strangers. She didn't call him anymore, didn't message him, didn't attend his tennis practices after school.

It was odd, looking at the girl who he knew so terribly intimately, and doing nothing but nod a hello in her direction.

He hadn't expected anything, hadn't really, but he can safely say that he hadn't expected this, however. He'd thought that they'd be-

What, friends? His mind mocks.

He'd thought they'd be something, still, not just strangers who smiled awkwardly at one another in the library.

People talked.

They whispered, they imagined scenarios that were laughable at best, and even his father had taken notice at one point. Atobe had only shrugged, said that they'd come to an amicable parting, when the truth was that he'd fallen too far deep and had to pull the plug before things got dangerous. That he'd been stupid and naïve, the exact things his father had always warned him not to be.

And now, he's standing in the middle of a crowded room-

-and he's never felt so alone.

Keigo watches the DVD that Nanao had gifted him for his birthday what must be at least thirty times in five days.

He always cuts it off before it gets to Nanao's part.

Nanao spends the weeks of their separation the way she typically spends her time: studying. She thinks that it should be easy, because it was what she'd always done. She doesn't expect the way studying feels desolate, strange, when she has nobody messaging her periodically with a sarcastic, witty quip that makes her burst out laughing so hard she can't focus on the textbook for another ten minutes.

She doesn't anticipate the way her insides physically ache when she avoids the tennis courts after school, doesn't expect the way her right side burns in class, because he sits in the seat right beside her, to her right.

Is this what a breakup feels like?

They hadn't really been dating, but they'd been-

They'd been doing something, and it oughtn't to feel this awful, the way she misses their easy conversations and teasing lilts.

When she goes to the library after school, she almost screams, because he's there, and the library was supposed to have been her place. But, oh, Nanao had always tugged him here, showed him the little secret spots of the library that made it magical, and now, now Keigo's as in love with it as she is – with him or the library? something in her mind whispers – and it's no longer just hers. It's theirs.

It's painfully awkward when there are three spots around him at his table, vacant, empty seats that nobody dares to sit in because it's beside the King. It's awkward, because Nanao is standing, glancing around, looking for a seat to sit in and the only seats available are beside Keigo.

She thinks of the time it wouldn't have even mattered if those were the only open seats, or if they were among the hundreds of others open, and she would have made a direct beeline for him anyway.

Thinks of the time when her spot had been the one next to his, and now, thinks of how painful it is that even when the spots are open, they're not hers.

He looks up and catches her eye.

For a moment, she holds her breath, thinks that perhaps, he'll smile, beckon her forward, anything-

He only looks back at his book in passiveness.

Nanao feels her heart breaking all over again.

She leaves before she becomes a mess in the middle of the library, in front of all their peers, who had quietly been observing the eye contact between herself and Keigo.

Three weeks after Keigo had "broken things off" with Nanao, Oshitari comes to him at eleven at night, just as tennis practice is ending in the private Atobe courts. It's a Saturday, so Keigo had taken the opportunity to enforce late-night practice.

Things had been…tense, between them, for a bit. Because Oshitari thought Keigo was being a damned fool, and Keigo never took it well when anyone said so about his actions, because he was brilliant, and he thought every small action through before carrying it out. It wasn't his fault Oshitari simply didn't understand.

But they were the best of friends – had been, since year I of junior high, and understood one another more than they understood themselves.

So Keigo had stopped by with Oshitari's favorite tea, and Oshitari had invited Keigo in for some exotic fruit they'd just acquired, and things had been alright again.

Well, as alright as it could have been, because Oshitari's noticed the way Keigo's eyes dart around before coming to rest at the space right before him, almost as if he were looking for someone, before realizing that they wouldn't be there.

Who told the fool to be so cynical and break things off when they hadn't even started, anyway?

But it had been Oshitari to come up with this whole idea of a fake relationship, and given that his hobby was reading all the clichéd novels of the universe, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt that he hadn't seen this coming. Seriously, how could he have not?

So he goes up to Keigo, with an apologetic smile. "Oh dear," he murmurs, and Keigo turns to him with a raised brow.

"I'd told Nanao that I'd meet her at Tokyo Tower at eleven."

Nanao now, because that stupid girl had wormed her way into his heart, too, until he couldn't help but look after her fondly as though she were a puppy he'd just taken in.

Keigo's response is a flit of surprise before he masks it with a cool indifference that has Oshitari wanting to roll his eyes. Really, Keigo – they've been best friends for years, give him a little more credit than that. "I don't think I'll be able to make it."

At that, Keigo's expression turns murderous. "Yuushi-"

"I've plans to attend to with mother. It's already 11:15, though – I'm sure she's already left."

Keigo frowns sharply. "At least message her-"

Oshitari's expression is the picture of innocence. "I've left my phone at home. I'm sure she's fine."

Keigo looks torn between wanting to stab him and choke him – because how many times is he going to stand her up, when she's such a painfully sincere person? – before settling on neither, because suddenly Keigo's gone, practically bolting out the door.

Oishitari hides a smile behind his hand.

Nanao is at Tokyo Tower, yes.

She's not particularly waiting for Oshitari-kun, no. She is waiting, though.

For Keigo.

Because- Because she'd finally learned to grow a backbone, even if Keigo wasn't around to see it, and she's done with simply waiting around for things like the proper princess she was raised to be. After all, who said it was a princesses' job to sit around and wait for the prince to come? What if he never did? What if he was waiting for her, or what if he got lost in the forest halfway through?

What then?

Nanao didn't want to be the kind of princess that was a sitting duck, thank you.

So she'd gone, and she'd asked Oshitari-kun to-

"Could you please bring Keigo to meet me? He's avoiding me, and I- I have a few things I'd like to say to him."

Because Nanao was the kind of princess who would gladly take up the sword and shield herself, because-

Because her prince had taught her better than to simply be a sitting fool.

She stands in front of the tower, now, dressed warmly in a red knit sweater and a white coat, amidst all the milling tourists. She feels a bit uncomfortable, and she's taken more than a few pictures for traveling families and tourists; she's taken a lot for couples who believe in that silly myth where they say if lovers are watching the tower the moment the lights turn off, that they'll be together forever.

She thinks it's silly, but she thinks the way lovers come to see it anyway is beautiful, so she takes pictures for them, all the while wondering if Keigo is going to show up at all.

He's furious.

He's going to kill Yuushi-!

But who is he kidding, he thinks as he pulls into the parking lot around the Tower. He's Atobe fucking Keigo, flooring it to make it to the Tower, on the off chance that some silly girl will still be waiting for a boy who won't show, like the idiot that she is.

God, he's dumb, too.

But he can't help caring, alright? What else is he supposed to do, when it concerns Nanao, who's so sincere that it makes sense that her siblings are so overprotective of her – of the little gem who managed to grow up so achingly honest in a society as duplicitous as theirs. Of course she's precious to them, because hell, she's precious to him, and he barely knows her-

He flings the car door shut and bolts across the parking lot, towards the twinkling lights of the tower.

When he gets there, all he sees is the shuffling crowds in front of the tower, and it's 11:45. He's thankful – painfully so – that she's not there, as pitiful as it sounds. Because at the very least, she's finally grown a backbone, and perhaps he won't have to worry about her so much anymore.

But the last trail of the tourists in front of him trails off to another corner, and what's left behind is-

Nanao, standing there with a painfully open expression in her eyes, fingers playing with a strand of her hair.

Shit.

She sees him, then, practically lights up as she beams at him – why is she so happy to see him? Why is she always so happy to see him, that it's infectious, that it makes him happy, too? She's walking towards him, smile brimming and overflowing, speaking- "-Keigo! You came!"

He freezes, then. Because that sounds as if- as if she'd been expecting him, but wasn't she supposed to be waiting for-

He pieces the parts together. Realizes he's been tricked, and damns the stupid genius who did.

Yuushi, his mind hisses. Fucking traitor.

He's here. He came. He actually came.

She doesn't know how Oshitari-kun got him here, but she's happy he did, because seeing Keigo so close after so long is like an ache finally being filled, is like finishing the last piece of a puzzle she's put off for far too long.

Nanao doesn't even care anymore; she slides forward and presses a tight, enthusiastic hug to him, and pulls away with a bright smile. "I'm glad you came."

God, that hug. Keigo thinks that that hug of hers – bear-like and warm and all-encompassing, despite her tiny size – is enough to cure the ailments of a nation. They ought to bottle that up and sell it; they'd make fortunes.

"I had- I wanted to tell you something."

Keigo sighs. "Clearly."

Nanao frowns at his dry words, but continues on, undeterred. "I- well-" It's a little hard, to get the words out.

"Nanao, I really don't have time for this-"

"Just wait a little, would you!" she huffs, all indignant and riled up that her cheeks are red, and this feels so achingly familiar – their banter and their repertoire – that Keigo wants it all back. "I just- I wanted to say that- Well-"

Keigo closes his eyes in half-exasperation, half-amusement, because he's so exasperated with her antics but so fond of them too-

"I like you."

His eyes snap open.

Oh.

And Nanao enters his vision, lower lip bitten in sheepish nervousness, eyes peering up at him with nothing but frightening sincerity. Her hands are wringing the edge of her sweater, her posture is hunched and unbecoming, but her face- her expression is brimming with such truth that Keigo can't breathe all of a sudden.

He can think of a hundred and one reasons why they wouldn't work, why this is stupid, why this is just fucking ridiculous and he ought to snap out of it and reject her already.

He can only think of one why he should even consider this, and the odds are laughable, here – a hundred and one versus one. The board of trustees would never trust him with a business decision ever again if he chose the one, but-

Nanao feels the thundering of her heart roaring in her ears.

And then, he breaks into a smirk.

Nanao falters, because what?

"Do you realize – that the odds of the exact person that you like, reciprocating your feelings, is literally one in millions?"

Nanao's shoulders droop and her eyes shutter, because she'd seen this coming, she'd known it would, but she couldn't help but hope anyway. She was always so silly, like Keigo had told her – she ought to have realized-

"That Ore-sama would reciprocate your feelings – the chances of that are…astronomically small."

Astronomical, he says, and the word makes Nanao wince.

"It would be easier for you to win the lottery."

Nanao doesn't even comment on the fact that he'd just likened himself to the lottery prize. It's sort of true, she supposes, in the back of her mind.

She sighs, looks down at her boot-covered feet, because she doesn't know what else to do. "Well," she begins in a small voice. "I've won small prizes at the scratch-off lottery cards before-"

She talks about winning something at those lottery cards that people buy in gas stations, and Keigo loses it.

He's laughing so hard he doubles over, guffawing in public, tears nearly in his eyes. Because- because who says that? Who says these things when they've just technically, been rejected? He looks at her, looks at the stubborn set of her lips and the huff in her expression, and he feels himself falling over and over again.

He looks at her, and decides that the one hundred and one can go fuck itself, because-

He's Atobe fucking Keigo. He defies all odds, right?

So he leans over, tilts her chin, and presses his lips to hers.

Nanao's eyes are still open when he kisses her.

In fact, they're still open when he steps back, something akin to wicked mirth shimmering in his eyes. Her own are spinning with disbelief, with confusion and bewilderment; after a few moments, they're replaced with something that Keigo can't quite put a finger on, but he thinks it might be-

Joy.

She gets this weird expression, a small, but awfully bright smile, happiness brimming and spilling out from her lips. She's- she's giddy, for fuck's sakes, he realizes, and he can't help but to lean his forehead on hers and laugh.

"I think I just won the lottery," she whispers, eyes wide and smile growing larger and larger.

Atobe huffs a laugh. "Good thing you're a lucky girl."

He can think of a hundred and one reasons why this is a terrible, terrible idea.

He can only think of one reason that it isn't, but it's the only one that matters: Suzuki Nanao makes him incredibly, incredibly happy for no reason at all.

A/N: Many things.

One, this story is far from over. Hehe.

Two, I hope this wasn't too quickly paced. I'd initially planned to have them break up, and keep them broken up for two or more chapters, before making some progress. But then, I'm about to get busy soon, and I didn't want to hold off their actual getting together for so long after I've already made you guys wait on a million other things.

Three, please bear with me for the rest of this little story I've put together, sob.

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