A/N: Another pretty fast update! I told you guys I'd try harder. I'm going to go for a few weeks without updating soon (hopefully after another chapter or so) because I have a packed schedule, so I'm trying to make up for it now. Keke.
I do understand where some of you are coming from when you think the chapter moved a bit fast with Nanao's confession to Oshitari, but – I think that when every main heroine doesn't realize her feelings for the boy, it gets a bit odd. In real life, most of us are quite aware of our crushes and our feelings for others; she's the same way, and isn't hesitant to admit to them.
Hehe. As always, I adore you, my readers, and I swear I'm reading every last review and it makes me happy beyond belief. I check my email frequently, and I get review notifications and it just brightens my day. I really am going to get to replying to them soon, right when I get time!
Disclaimer: I do not own PoT.
When they'd broken up, everyone had talked.
Had speculated on what the reason could be for their breakup in the first place, wondered if it was Nanao or Keigo who had done it – decided that of course it had been Atobe Keigo to break up with Nanao, not the other way around. Talked of how of course he'd lost interest in her, when he was Atobe Keigo, and how this was only expected after how long their relationship had gone on.
The mothers of Japan's high society tittered over tea, gossiped slyly and murmured quietly about that Atobe boy and that Suzuki girl calling it quits; they prodded at Mrs. Suzuki for the answers, despite the fact that she herself had no clue – she'd tried to ask Nanao about it, only to have the girl clam up and run for her room. The women gossiped and the men began to talk of arranged marriages anew, and it seemed that for a while, it was all their circles could talk about-
Until the week following Nanao and Keigo's meeting at Tokyo Tower.
They returned to school the following Monday – and, like she had three weeks prior, she arrived in Atobe's limousine, exited the door right after he did. They were talking again during class, during small breaks, were eating lunch together and seen roaming about campus with one another once more; she attended his tennis practices again, and people would say that they saw Atobe Keigo entering and leaving the council room when the only occupant was Suzuki Nanao.
The couple, it would seem, were back together.
And once again, the campus erupted into gossip and speculation and hushed whispers in the hallway, from the students, to the teachers, to the PTA groups; someone saw Atobe Keigo holding Suzuki Nanao's hand, and did you hear that she left in the same car as him after school?
But this time, some students would say, something was different. Something was…off.
Atobe and Suzuki-san had always been reserved in their affections, people said – that sure, they kissed and held hands and hugged, and despite the air of familiarity about them, there had always, always been some sort of air of…distance. People had assumed that it came from their refined backgrounds that prevented them from being overly affectionate in public, that it was their way of maintaining public appearances.
But that following week, when they'd – as the masses presumed – gotten back together, things had changed.
When Atobe exited his car, he turned around and offered a hand to be grasped by a smiling Suzuki, and they'd lace their fingers together while they walked into campus; they'd laugh openly (they always did when they were together, even before) and all the while, Suzuki would swing their adjoined arms back and forth in an absentminded, idle manner, as though she didn't even notice it.
Before, he simply would have helped her out of the car, and they'd walk towards class side by side, close together, but firmly not touching.
Nowadays, when Atobe pressed an affectionate kiss to Suzuki's cheek, he'd linger there, press his nose up against her skin, shift so that he could murmur something amusing into her ear – amusing, because almost always, she'd break out laughing afterwards. He'd only ever pressed short, brief kisses to her cheek before, had never lingered this way, had never so intimately whispered things with their noses bumping against one another.
(But even before, before all of this, they'd always, always whispered to each other. They'd stand at parties beside one another, and share in a private joke that only the two of them understood, even if they were amongst a sea of people, smiling quietly to secrets only the two of them were privy to.)
"It's strange, and I can't quite put a finger on it," one student would say. "They've done all this before – the kissing, the hugging – but it's different now. Something's different. It's…sweeter. Softer. More- raw? Is that the word?"
Whatever it was, only one thing seemed to be certain – that Suzuki Nanao and Atobe Keigo were, once again, dating.
Oshitari ascends upon them like a smug god, an amused curve to his lips and an unholy sparkle to his eyes. He's carrying the latest issue of the school paper underneath one arm, and in his other hand, holds one of his ever-present romance novels. For a moment, he looks down upon them, smile growing wider until Keigo finally snaps-
"That expression is highly unbecoming."
Oshitari laughs carelessly and sits down across from them.
It's Keigo and Nanao, seated comfortably on one of the couches in the student council room; Nanao's holding a packet of papers she's reading over, and beside her, Keigo drapes a casual arm around her shoulder, hand dangling and occasionally twirling a strand of her hair. It's the same as always and painfully different at the same time, because while they'd have sat like this before, Keigo would never have absentmindedly pressed a kiss to the side of her head for no reason at all. Nanao trails her finger absentmindedly back and forth over Keigo's hand splayed on her lap, as she reads her papers after giving Oshitari a welcoming and sheepish smile.
It's- It's so very odd, because it's so them, but it's so unfamiliar despite the fact that they've always shown this kind of affection. Perhaps it's because this time they're real – these gestures, these smiles and brief glances. This time, they're not counted off, they're not calculated, it's not-
One kiss in front of the classroom, a hug on the tennis courts, and at least three instances of hand-holding a day.
They're not carefully measured actions meant to show the rest of the student body that they are, indeed, in a relationship. This time, they're thoughtless actions, done out of sheer impulse and desire, simply because they want to, because when Nanao looks at Keigo, she can't help the smile that spreads on her lips and the urge to hug him the way his parents never had. They're because when Nanao smiles at Keigo that smile of hers, all unbridled affection and helpless, childish happiness, Keigo can't help the way endearment springs in his chest and urges him to pull her to him to press his lips to her forehead.
They're not big displays of affection, either. They're not tacky or overdone or showy – they're small, minute details that people may catch a glimpse of if they're watching carefully, quiet signs of their relationship that they're content to show only to themselves and no one else. After all, he is an Atobe, and she is a Suzuki – they don't do tacky.
It's sweet and genuine and Oshitari feels as though he may develop cavities looking at them sometimes, but he supposes that it's alright, looking at the way Nanao's lips unconsciously twist into a smile when Keigo leans his weight on her.
People are talking, yes, of how hot and cold they seem to be – broken up one week, back together the next month; they talk of how they would have never pictured the humble, quietly sweet Suzuki Nanao with the larger-than-life Atobe Keigo, but Oshitari disagrees. He looks at them and he thinks that she's exactly who he'd expected for Keigo, because for all of Keigo's brash and loud tendencies, that's not what he's looking for, not who he really is. He's looking for someone to be honest and real and ground him, and that's what Nanao does.
She takes one look at his silken purple shirts, his fancy limousine and gold-studded watch, and she rolls her eyes and laughs. She doesn't give him the same sort of adoration that the masses give him, but she gives him another kind of affection that he's never had before – the kind where she thinks he's silly and finds his luxuries hilarious, but she likes them because it's a part of who he is.
Most others like him because of the luxuries.
Nanao doesn't quite believe it, still.
When she takes the time to really look back on the series of events that had brought them here, today, with her fingers laced with his, she blinks, bewildered, because- because this was reality, and she was Suzuki Nanao. Prior to Keigo waltzing into her life unbidden, the biggest drama she'd ever had in her life was finishing her homework before eight – and she'd been excited about that, too. But then, he'd barged in, picked her up and swept her along right into this river rapid of crazy, and then she was falling for Oshitari-kun (thought she had, but now that she thinks about it, he'd only ever been an infatuation – a distraction), and then she'd-
-fallen for Atobe Keigo himself.
He was both everything and nothing like she'd expected, all at once. He was exciting and magical and daring and courageous and bold – everything she wasn't, the metaphorical yin to her yang in his dizzying presence to her quiet, subdued one. But then- he wasn't anything like people thought he was, he wasn't the perfect god people made him out to be.
He was better.
He was, at once, stronger and weaker than the invincible character people painted him as; he had his vulnerabilities and his issues, but he was strong, impossibly strong, more than anyone would ever know to recognize, a towering Superman that overcame all of his insurmountable challenges. He was haughty, yes, arrogant, of course, but despite all of that, he managed to look past himself still and care for his friends in a way that left her speechless. Keigo was kind, he was strict, he was harsh and he was gentle.
It's still a little surreal, that she's dating Keigo – because he's such an incredible person that Nanao doesn't even fathom how she caught his attention in the first place, when she'd only been a pretend girlfriend in the beginning. And hadn't that scenario been insane?
Things like fake girlfriends and public adoration had never been a part of Nanao's world – her own quiet world had been filled with homework assignments and project deadlines, never things so dramatic and large as Keigo's grand red walkway. Even now, she finds these things a bit overwhelming, a bit strange and out of this world; but she's alright, because if it means she gets to keep Keigo – Keigo, the boy who'd quietly notice your affinity for the red gummy bears and subtly leave those out for you – then she's fine with all of it, really.
If she were being really honest, Nanao would go as far as to say that she's never found the public Keigo all too alluring – she didn't find his extravagance or his luxuries to be the most attractive things about him, because how could she, when he was so far beyond those silly details? She thinks that it's lucky that most girls don't get the chance to find out how incredible he was really, because his popularity is already unbelievable; if they found out that he was attentive and loyal and humbly helpful, they'd never leave him alone.
"You're wandering." A smooth, low drawl cuts into her thoughts, and Nanao is jostled out of her reverie to peer down at the source: a devilishly handsome face, features curved into a raised brow and a faint smirk. Keigo, who'd been laying on the sofa with his head in her lap (he so often got headaches, that he sometimes needed time to lie down and breathe, even if it meant doing so while Nanao quietly read over student council papers), now reaches up and tugs lightly at a stray strand of her hair.
She frowns, then breaks out in a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I was just- thinking."
"About?"
Her smile grows a little wider. "Nothing."
Keigo narrows his eyes, then, purses his lips because he never did like being out of the loop. He parts his lips as though to say something, but is then interrupted by Nanao reaching down to rake her hand gently through his hair, nimble fingers running along his head. Well, he supposes – the matter can be tabled for later.
They never make a formal announcement out of it. It just happens, and people gawk and whisper and speculate, and that's all it is; unlike the first time around, they don't make a grand announcement or make it a point to assert their relationship to others. This time, this is theirs and theirs alone – theirs to guard carefully like the most delicate of secrets for just the two of them.
Likewise, they don't make it known to the tennis team.
Keigo doesn't make it a point to update them each time something happens – when he decided that perhaps it'd be better to break things off with Nanao, and when he'd decided that he'd like to date her for real, after all.
When Nanao shows up to the first practice in weeks, each of the regulars take a moment to eye her strangely at one point or the other. But then, Keigo finishes his practice set and comes over to her and the two are lost in their own quiet conversation for a few minutes, and the regulars know. All it takes is a momentary glance, at the faint curve along his lips and the way her eyes sparkle, and they know that something's changed, here.
The regulars don't talk about it, because Keigo's always been an unpredictable, bewildering whirlwind, and they've long since learned to simply nod and go along with his whims. It isn't as though they can stop him, what with his petulance and awful stubborn streak, and they'll be there for him if things ever get rough. For the most part, they allow him to do whatever it is he wants to without anything more than a quirked brow.
Still, Gakuto makes a point of waggling his eyebrows and Choutarou politely smiles warmly at her from across the courts. Jiroh's asleep and Kabaji is Kabaji, and did anyone even expect Hiyoshi to say anything besides "Gekokujo" at this point? But it is Shishido who grabs Keigo on their way out from the clubroom after practice, pulls him back inside while everyone is walking ahead outside.
It's Shishido who looks him in the eye and gruffly asks "Everything good?" and while its vague, Keigo knows exactly what he's talking about. He smirks, and Shishido huffs and turns red- "I'm not worried, I'm just making sure things are fine. With you. And her. Her. You know. Suzu-"
"I know." Who else would it have been? But Keigo doesn't answer the actual question, just smiles bemusedly and watches as Shishido shuffles a bit, discomfited.
Shishido, for his part, feels god-awfully uncomfortable. He doesn't do shit like this, alright? With the feelings and the caring and shit, and he'd rather saw off his foot than deal with these things if he could, but this is Keigo. He doesn't care about very many people, but he cares about Keigo, despite his eccentricities and flamboyant shirts.
He wants to make sure Keigo's okay.
He knows Suzuki couldn't hurt a fly, completely the opposite of that frighteningly capable and vicious Shigohara Minako that idiot Yuushi is dating, but- Keigo's not as steely as people think he is, and Shishido can see it, that caring in his eyes when he looks at Suzuki. Suzuki couldn't hurt a fly, but Keigo would let her hurt him if the opportunity arose.
Yuushi's the right hand man and Kabaji is the one who holds the umbrella over Keigo's head to shield him from the sunlight, but it is Shishido who watches with surprisingly keen eyes, who sees that when Keigo and Suzuki had first called their fake relationship quits, that Keigo was quiet and withdrawn and lacking the usual sharp focus he had. Shishido may seem daft, but he's really not, he notices these things, he notices that they're real now.
He doesn't know what happened this past weekend, but he knows that their hugs and their hand holding and their kisses aren't fake, not anymore, that things have changed and become- serious. And he knows Keigo, knows Keigo doesn't doserious, because how could a person so practical be serious when he knows that in the end, he'll give himself over to arranged marriage anyway?
Shishido's spent a good chunk of practice wondering and thinking quietly on his own, to the point where Gakuto made fun of him for missing a smash opportunity halfway through their rally. He doesn't quite fully understand, but then again, he's never fully understand much of Keigo at all. He doesn't care, either; he just wants him to be okay.
Keigo sees the concern in Shishido's eyes despite the other's gruff disposition, and his own eyes soften at the expression. He quirks his lips softly, huffs a laugh, and murmurs, "Ore-sama is nothing less than brilliant at all times."
Shishido rolls his eyes but there's a relief visible in the lax lines of his figure now. "Whatever, you diva," he grumbles, but he pats Keigo awkwardly but reassuringly on the back on his way out of the clubroom.
Sometimes, they ask him why.
To people like Yuushi and Shishido, even the surprisingly keen Gakuto, the answer is obvious – why Keigo's chosen quiet and subdued Suzuki over flashy, glamorous girls like Shigohara Minako, who seem to suit his lavish personality better. But those who don't know Keigo don't seem to understand, can't seem to fathom why; it's not an insult to Suzuki, simply baffling because they're two wholly different people, and Suzuki doesn't stand out in a crowd like Hyotei's beautiful student body.
Brave students occasionally find the courage to step up, ask him why, ask him what it is about her – brave students, or more often, curious fan girls.
Keigo never responds.
He only smirks, and it's an expression that conveys exasperation and amusement and contempt all in one.
He finds the question preposterous, thinks the answer should be so obvious that it needn't be such a puzzle. It's glaringly obvious, see-
"Hey."
"What?"
"…Nothing."
Nanao offers a sheepish, chagrined smile when Keigo eyes her oddly, ducks her head and stares at her fingers in her lap. She's sitting in her pajamas on the floor, legs crossed and hair mussed; Keigo sits in front of her, dressed in his own silken pajamas, and he even makes sitting on the floor like regal and grand.
She feels a bit ridiculous, now that they've actually done it.
They've fashioned a pillow fort on top of Nanao's massive bed, propped by the posters on the king-sized furniture and the pillows from the sofa in her room and the extra sheets in her closet. She's not immature, she just saw a photo online, and neither of them had ever done it before. She doesn't think it's dumb, at least, not until they've actually done it, and she's sitting in a swath of sheets and pillows with Keigo, who looks so out of place its hilarious.
"You're the one who wanted to do this," Keigo murmurs coolly, stares her down as though he knows the very thoughts going on in her head at the moment.
Nanao flushes a faint red. "I didn't know what it'd be like!" she protests. After a pause, though, she lifts her lips into a hesitant smile. "But- you've never been in a pillow fort either, have you? I just figured, it's never too late to get a childhood back." It's meant to be a joke, but she means it – because Keigo's never had ice cream from ice cream trucks or gone feeding the ducks at the park or stayed up late giggling over comic books and secrets.
Nanao's grown up with money and a family fortune, but never the Atobe legacy, so she was privy to all the delights of a naïve childhood Keigo had never had. And she looks at him, looks at how painfully earnest and considerate he is, and all she wants to do is give him the things he doesn't have.
He has many things, so many things, but people don't realize there're things he doesn't have, never had.
He's never had warm family dinners – just quiet ones alone that the cooks serve him, because his mother had dinner early to attend that gala and his father will have his with his associates outside. He's never gone to the movie theaters for a midnight premiere, has never had one of those delicious hotdogs from the hot dog stand in the park. He's never had someone cook a meal for him besides five-star chefs, never had-
-never had a lot of things that she's always had, that she's never seen the fortune of having. And he's always paying attention to what other people need and want, so Nanao thinks it's sort of her job to make sure that he gets the things he wants, too.
Keigo catches her smile, then, sees her looking at him with this small, hopeful smile, and that smile after those words – she wants to give him a childhood – almost wrecks him. He leans forward and rests his forehead against hers, closes his eyes and sits in the moment, this moment.
People don't understand that Nanao isn't quiet, isn't subdued or boring. She's silly and happy and hapless, is strangely eccentric in ways one wouldn't expect her to be; she's frighteningly direct and honest and genuine, and these are just the little things.
He likes all these things about her, adores them, but what makes him fall a little deeper each time he sees her is-
"I think I wanted to, once," he murmurs, so quietly it's almost a whisper. Nanao peers up at him through her lashes, their foreheads still touching, his eyes closed. "It was undignified – according to father."
Nanao bumps her nose against his, and it's a strange gesture, but it's enormously comforting in a way Keigo would never have imagined. "I won't tell him if you won't," she whispers, and she's half serious, this girl. He opens his eyes and she's looking straight at him, and she says "It's not silly; childhoods are important. Pillow forts are important."
This is it.
This is what makes her irrevocably precious.
Because she gets it. Pillow forts are small and trivial and dumb, but it makes him shift a little, because as silly as it is, he remembers wanting to build one with his friends, and remembers his father lecturing him for half an hour at the sheer notion of it. He hates it that he still remembers this and still winces just a bit at the remembrance of how awful it had felt at age five, to feel inconsequential and childish.
But Nanao sees it, sees past the pillow fort and thinks it's important, lets him be weak when he wants to be.
It's because Nanao makes him feel as though it's alright to still have this trifling baggage laying around, waiting to be tripped upon; because she sees him for who he is, not the superman he's been painted as, and she likes the weak Atobe Keigo more than the god. Because he doesn't feel weak, he just feels like he's being himself.
"Yeah. I think so too."
The next high society gathering is a gala for the opening of a new exhibit at the National Art Center; the Atobe's and Suzuki's are both in attendance, of course, in addition to the rest of the upper crust socialites. It's the first event that they'll both be attending, and by now, the rumors have made it up to the adults: that Suzuki Nanao and Atobe Keigo are dating, once again.
It's a grand affair, full of crystal chandeliers and thousand dollar wines and a live orchestra in one corner. Extravagance lines the walls, and oh, the Oshitari's have just arrived, and isn't that Shigohara Minako on the youngest son's arm? It's an hour into the event, hors d'ourves have been devoured, and the gossip is beginning to rise.
The Atobe's arrive, then, fashionably late as always. The moment they do, the party really goes into a full swing, livened by the appearance of the night's most esteemed guests; Atobe Senior makes his way towards a few corporate associates, the Suzuki head among them, and Keigo's mother waltzes away to her circle of beautifully dressed women.
Eyes pause upon Keigo.
He makes a few cursory, polite rounds, greets the people he's supposed to greet, laughs at political jokes and carefully avoids sensitive topics. He's dressed impeccably as usual, in a dark navy suit tailored to fit along his tall and well-built body, and a red satin tie that ties in with the blue strangely well. Oshitari Yuushi – just as well dressed in a dark, deep brown ensemble – sidles up to Keigo with a beautiful Shigohara on his arm, who's dressed to kill in stilettos and a slinky black dress.
They exchange casual conversation for a while, and the adults in the room look upon them fondly, reminisce on the time they attended Hyotei.
And then, Atobe Keigo seems to catch a glimpse of something across the room. It's obvious the exact moment when, because he straightens slightly and there's a soft curve to his lips; it's an unrecognizable expression, but from beside him, Yuushi recognizes the smile for what it is: endearment.
The object of his sight is seated at one of the round tables, chatting quietly with a boy. She's slender and paints a soft figure in gently curled hair and wide eyes, and there's a certain charm to her small, understated smile. She's wearing a chiffon dress with a sweetheart neckline and a cinched waist (her waist is rather small); the ends of the dress flutter along the floor, just barely, and the color of the dress is-
-coincidentally, the exact same shade of Atobe Keigo's tie.
Atobe Keigo, who excuses himself from the small group he'd been talking to, and strolls directly across the room for the girl. He reaches her, stands behind his chair and spares a passing glance to the boy she's talking to – who is in the midst of asking for a dance as Keigo walks up – before leaning down to press his lips chastely against her head.
Yuushi can confidently say there were a few swoons from around the room at that – adults included.
Nanao's head darts up, and when her eyes catch the sight of Keigo, the expression of endearment he'd had when he saw her doesn't even hold a candle to the delight filling Nanao's expression. Her lips burst into a wide smile, then, a vivacity springing to her features as she greets him with "Keigo! You're here!"
She stands up to turn around and face him, and even on her heels, she's almost a head shorter than him. He leans in to murmur something in her ear. Afterwards, she looks even happier than before, practically giddy as she allows her hand to be taken by his. He sweeps her onto the dance floor, waltzes them into a smooth rhythm; she's not a fantastic dancer, but she has a natural grace to her movements and Keigo is a wonderful leader. They're spinning in circles for a while, Nanao's red dress fanning out at each turn and matching shades with Keigo's tie, and for a few minutes-
-they're the talk of the party.
Girls are, at once, envious and gushing over the couple, because she's landed the most eligible ex-bachelor in the room, but how could they dislike it when he's spinning her in romantic circles on the dance floor? The boys are surprised, because they'd never noticed how attractive Suzuki was, before – she's always been pretty, yes, but nothing to make her stand out in the beautiful crowd of the upper crust in the way she does now, laughing at something Keigo's whispered in her ear.
The women find it adorable, find it charming how the Suzuki girl's managed to capture the attention of the Atobe boy, who'd been so unattainable for so long. Even some of the men are sporting small curves on their lips, because isn't this nostalgic of their own high school years?
Atobe senior is- he's alright with this, for now, if it makes their peers look upon Keigo fondly.
Keigo will break it off when the time comes.
For the time being, though, Keigo and Nanao are oblivious to the eyes around the room, because Nanao is delighted in dancing with Keigo, finds it exhilarating and fun. Keigo can't really pay attention to the gossip around the sidelines when Nanao looks this excited, practically beaming at him and brimming with laughter. So he twirls her around once more, even if he thinks its excessive, and then he pulls her in and wraps his arms around her waist, her hands still grasped tightly in his.
She half-stumbles, half-spins into his arms, and when she looks up at him, she's breathless and windblown. Nanao smiles with her lower lip tucked under her teeth, leans against him with her chin propped on his chest. He pecks her on her forehead and Nanao, with a laugh, presses her lips to his chin.
"We should do that again," she says.
Keigo rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible dancer."
She laughs. "That's what I've got you for, isn't it?" She's not even chagrined by his insults, anymore, and Keigo wonders if he should worry about that.
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