A/N: Hello readers! The next update after this one is going to come really quick, so keep your eyes peeled (and review pls they make me inspired). I've been trying to reply to all your reviews, so if I haven't gotten to it, please be patient, because I will in a day or two!
You'll also find that this story doesn't have as much plot development, but it's just so I can set it up for the upcoming (more exciting) chapters, hehe.
( Tumblr announcement. ) I got this idea from fyerigurl. I get a lot of 'when will you update so and so' and 'what do you think about this and that' and 'how do you do this' or 'where did you come up with this' sorts of questions in my inbox and my reviews. I've never really gotten the chance to reply to these things even when I always think of the answer to myself, so I wanted to give you guys this tumblr for any questions, comments or concerns you may have. If you click on my profile, the link to the tumblr will be at the top of my bio. (In case ffnet updates are lagging again, the name of my tumblr is 'xcoffeelatte' - so just do xcoffeelatte dot tumblr dot c-o-m hahaha.)
I'm also going to post a lot of pictures to accompany my chapters, so be sure to check my tumblr when you read any updates!
( important announcement! ) 09.04.14 due to chapter number reasons (which will be explained with my special announcement in the next chapter or so!), I've decided to merge chapter 23 (tulips and roses) with chapter 22 (separation anxiety). please be on the lookout for the new chapter 23 soon!
Nanao hadn't ever meant for this sort of thing to happen - she hadn't ever really thought about it, hadn't thought that she'd end up being that girl. It's just hard, she reasons, keeping up her relationships with everyone else when she was dating Atobe Keigo; Keigo, after all, required much time and devotion to be kept a happy plant. (She hoped he didn't ever find out she compared him to a needy plant, but Yuushi-kun had agreed with that particular metaphor).
So when she's cornered by her friends after class on Wednesday, words and accusations of "You never even hang out with us anymore" and "We know you're dating Atobe Keigo, but come on, Nanao" and "Don't you even miss us?"
It's then that she realizes that she had been woefully neglecting the others in her life in her whirlwind relationship with Keigo, and when they ask don't you miss us, she realizes with a pang that she does. She hadn't even realized how much time she'd been spending with Keigo and Yuushi-kun as of late, and once she does, she backpedals with a slight tinge of horror. She reaches forward to lace her fingers with one of her friend's, shakes her head with a hurried "Of course I miss you guys."
And she looks so contrite that her friends can't help but to roll their eyes and relent, because Nanao was just the sort of girl who seemed so genuinely upset over her own mistakes, that one couldn't bear to be angry at her, too. Nanao swept up another friend in an all-encompassing hug, warm and too-tight but oh so very Nanao, and pulled back with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. You're right- we'll definitely spend some time together this weekend!"
Her friend levels her a dubious look. "No Atobe-kun?"
Nanao nods, hurriedly and reassuringly. "No Keigo- I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize-"
"Shut up, Nanao."
Likewise, on Keigo's end, he's been facing the same criticism from a sneering Gakuto and frowning, petulant Hiyoshi. "You're too busy making googly eyes at Suzuki - think you can concentrate enough to not lose suckishly to Tezuka this time?"
And Keigo practically splutters, because he'd simply come to the gardens to drink his tea, and he's honestly feeling so attacked right now. He levels an expression that's a perfect blend of bewilderment, indignation and haughty condescension at Gakuto, gathers his dignity and sniffs. "Ore-sama does not do 'googly eyes' - and he is fully capable of schooling Seigaku whether or not Nanao is present."
Hiyoshi mumbles under his breath, something along the lines of 'gekokujo' and 'distracted captain' and when he'll finally be captain when Atobe graduates. But those are the only things he ever speaks of, so by now it's gotten old and Gakuto and Atobe hardly spare him a glance. Instead, Gakuto sticks his tongue out at Atobe with a snide "Right. You'll probably be too busy making mushy noises on the phone with her the whole weekend to get any actual training in."
Keigo narrows his eyes at Gakuto. "Even when I'm completely distracted - which I am not - I still fare better against Tezuka than you ever have against Seigaku's atrocious Kikumaru, even in your best state." It's a well-aimed barb, because Gakuto makes a choking, indignant noise from the back of his throat, eyes bulging with the insult. Keigo smirks. "And we are not as silly as you make us sound."
Shishido, somewhere to his right, snorts. "That's why every time you make a point you look back at Suzuki to preen, right?" is muttered underneath his breath.
Keigo's frown deepens. Shishido must clearly be mistaken-
"Well, I think they're very cute," is Choutarou's quiet contribution, and that's when Keigo realizes that he's absolutely fucked.
The moment Choutarou Ohtori thinks he's cute, is the moment that things have been irreparably damaged. Things, Keigo decides, must be repaired at once, because it seems that these heathens have forgotten precisely why he received the title of the Ice Emperor when they were mere middle schoolers.
He lifts his chin, a sharp gleam in his eye that has even Gakuto quelling for a moment. Deep self-satisfaction lingers in his gaze as he notices the affect of his gaze. "Rest assured, peasants - the winner will be Hyotei. As always."
That afternoon, they've finished their homework assignments within the first hour because Nanao was always adamant about getting work done before play. He sometimes marveled at how her stubborn streak and steel nerves showed up for the strangest of things, but, well.
And normally Keigo may have gone shopping for some new silken shirts, or perhaps graced the Louxe or the Atrium, but he's started to find a strange affinity for staying in and doing awfully mundane things since he's started dating Nanao. He'd never admit it, of course, but being a homebody was actually quite nice, sometimes - it was a fresh breath of air after whirlwinds of dark clubs and brightly lit parties and luxurious lounges.
He still gave Nanao endless sniping about it, just because.
Still, he's always been a bit helpless to those he cared about, and Nanao is no exception when she sheepishly holds up a DVD and asks if he minds terribly if they just stay in that day, so he's currently twenty minutes into a heart-wrenching movie about a guitar prodigy who's separated from his parents as a baby. They're wrapped up in ridiculously fluffy blankets - courtesy of Atobe - because the air conditioner is always blasting throughout Nanao's house for some reason; the television flickers with the movie.
From beside him, he hears a small sniffle. Aghast, he turns to look at Nanao, nose crinkling in distaste. "Are you- are you crying?"
"No," is the blubbered response, muffled behind a mound of blankets.
"You are." It's a criminal accusation more than anything else, if the horror in his voice is anything to go by.
"They've been separated for twelve years because of a misunderstanding, Keigo - they could have been so happy-"
"What are you saying? This movie is highly overrated and completely ridiculous-"
"Keigo have a heart, will you-"
"Will you stop with the slobbering, these blankets cost a fortune-"
"They deserve to be happy-"
For a second, Keigo is absolutely lost on how he ended up here - in a too-girly room wrapped in too-fluffy blankets (no, that part is actually rather expected) beside a girl who is practically sniveling at an overly dramatic movie with no actual basis in reality. But then, his expression turns into one of endearment when Nanao half-wails when the mother reunites with her child at last, and he supposes that this isn't too bad, after all.
"You do know that's not real, right?"
Nanao turns baleful eyes upon him. "It says that it's based off of a true story, Keigo."
"...That doesn't mean this entire movie is an exact replica of how things transpired in reality-"
"Why don't you believe in anything-"
The rest of her words are garbled, for Keigo's slapped an exasperated hand over her lips.
It's thursday during practice when Keigo realizes that perhaps he has been spending a bit too much time with Nanao when she manages to finish one of his sentences completely out of left field, as though it's a perfectly normal thing. It's scarier still when he realizes that they've been doing this for a little while, now, completing one another's words and thoughts and ideas and on one hand he thinks it's nice, that he has someone who understands him so well, but on the other-
-this isn't very good at all, is it?
He asks Yuushi as such, and is suitably indignant when all he gets is an amused chuckle. "Keigo, don't tell me you've only just noticed."
"I don't appreciate the condescension in your tone," he huffs in response.
What he gets is an even louder laugh. "Pot, kettle."
"It's not particularly bad - it's simply a sign of how well we know one another. I don't see Shigohara being able to complete your speeches."
"For one, I don't have speeches - the monologue is rather your thing, not mine. For another, Minako wouldn't dare want to know the inner workings of my mind; for a third, we thrive on distance. It makes the heart grow fonder."
"That last one isn't particularly by your choice, though."
"Tomato, to-mah-to."
"I just don't understand what all this fuss is about."
"Well, it can be considered - dare I say it - dependant."
A suspiciously high-pitched noise of protest rises from the back of Keigo's throat. "Did you just-"
"Yes I did."
"We are not-"
"By common definition of the word 'dependant,' yes, you are."
"I do not depend on her-"
"Tomato, to-mah-to."
"Stop using that blasted phrase."
"If you're so against that idea, then just prove everyone wrong."
A pause. "Hm?"
"We're having a training camp this weekend. Just don't talk to her while we're there, defeat Echizen, and your dignity will be restored all in all. Simple."
"Your ideas always seem brilliant enough at first, but they have a tendency to turn to absolute shit at the most inopportune of times."
An award-winning, beautiful smile from Oshitari. "You're very welcome."
Thursday night is Keigo and Nanao doing nothing in particular, besides lounging about his room and talking in low, hushed voices, even though there's no one else to hear. Sometimes - out of nowhere and for no reason at all - their conversations dip into delicate nuances about things they hadn't told others, even if it may be silly things, like how Nanao once fancied herself a librarian when she grew up (Keigo laughs because what ten year old child dreams of being a librarian, and kisses away the petulant frown she grows on her lips when he chuckles).
They whisper for no reason at all because it just feels right, because these words that flit between them are theirs and theirs alone, and even if there's no one else around, there's a sort of deep and quiet magic to murmuring things in each other's ears as though they're the darkest secrets in existence.
They do it with their hands clasped between them, and she holds on so tight that her knuckles turn white, but all he's saying is a silly story of how he once ruined his mother's one-of-a-kind Dior dress by spilling a glass of grape juice all over the velvet fabric. But she peers at him through glittering eyes and holds each word close, holds his hand closer, and he thinks that maybe she gets it, gets that spilling something on his mother's dress when he was eight is stupid and trivial but it's one of those things that he's never quite told anyone else before.
It's moments like these where he feels this little flicker of apprehension in his chest because this kind of a connection is so easy to drown in, so easy to just lean into and let himself sink into it.
Atobes never got in too deep - that was cardinal rule number one, didn't mother ever teach you the laws of this pretty little world?
She leans in, whispers something about how she likes the callouses on his fingers because it reminds her of when he plays tennis, all wild and unbound and unbearably happy, and Keigo clutches at her hand a little harder.
Keigo leaves her house at a little past eleven that night, and Nanao walks him to the door, as usual, leans against the doorway and watches him walk down the rather long driveway to where his chauffer is waiting.
"Oh," she murmurs, as though she's forgotten something. Keigo pauses when he hears it, and by the time he turns around, she's already padded forward and she picks up one of his hands, holds it in her smaller, delicate ones.
She squeezes it once, briefly. "Have nice dreams," she whispers, and in the back of his mind, he knows he should scoff at the silly girl who thinks that wishing someone a good night actually helps them sleep better at night.
But he's silly, too, for thinking that perhaps she's the reason he hasn't dreamt of his aunt, of drowning, in a little over a week.
So he only smiles faintly, a small crook of his lips on one side, and he leans down to brush his lips against her cheek before pushing her carefully towards the door. Nanao scampers back, but lingers in the doorway and stubbornly waits until he's in the car and the car pulls away before closing the door herself.
When she clicks the lock on the door and turns around, she utters a quiet 'eep' because Megumi is there, covered in a fluffy robe and face bare of makeup and smiling fondly at her little sister. Nanao parts her lips to say something, anything, but Megumi only picks up Nanao's hand and draws her in under one arm.
Automatically, Nanao's other hand comes to clasp at Megumi's waist and her sister's head comes to rest on top of hers. "Don't give too much of yourself, sweetheart - you don't have so much to give," Megumi murmurs, and she's still smiling, but there's a sad warning in her voice that gives Nanao pause.
Because Megumi likes Atobe-kun, realizes that he's the most coveted boyfriend in their society, and is overjoyed that he clearly notices Nanao's charm - but she's also been smitten the way Nanao is, knows very clearly that the Atobe's will no doubt be arranging their only son's marriage in the future, knows that Atobe's had a string of lovely girls on his arm before that he dropped with narry a bat of an eyelid.
Knows that between Atobe-kun and Nanao, she'll be the one to lose more than he, that she'll struggle to pick up the pieces of the heart she allows to bleed for everyone while he'll casually brush off his sleeves.
Megumi adores the idea of love more than anyone else, of fairy tales and prince charmings, but she adores her little sister more and doesn't want to be the one to pet her head while she weeps if things come to a brutal end.
Nanao's fingers tighten around Megumi's nightgown. "I know," she mumbles.
No, you don't, Megumi thinks. "I just love you. I want you to be happy, you know that?"
Nanao stares at her bare feet, wriggles her toes, wonders when her family will stop thinking of her as a sad little puppy who'll be dropped at the next moment, wonders if ever her family will warn her not to break others' hearts than to get hers broken. "I know," she says instead, quiet and subdued.
The team is set to leave Friday after classes end. They'll be at the estate until Monday afternoon, and the team has already been excused from school for that day - after all, when Atobe Keigo and his nationally-ranked tennis team (ranked anywhere between first and third on any given year) require a day off to go train in his glorious million-dollar estate, there's not much the principal will say other than "Yes, of course, how many absences do you need excused?"
Yuushi's spent the day sticking to Minako's side as though he suddenly slathered some super glue on one side and pressed himself against her. He claims its to give her her fill of himself before he leaves to tide her over until he's back, to which she smartly replies "I think I'll be quite well - I really do need my left hand, now."
Keigo and Nanao don't act very differently at all, because it's just a weekend, not some year-long training journey. No need to act silly or dramatic, and Keigo says as much, to which Yuushi simply smiles, "Perhaps Minako and my love is greater than yours, for even a single breath without her makes my heart weep-"
"Isn't it time for you to board the bus, now?" is Minako's long-suffering sigh.
"-and my heartbeat rings in time with hers, even when we are miles apart-"
"We need an intervention about those trashy novels of his," Keigo narrows his eyes.
Nanao laughs, and that's when his eyes are drawn to her. He pulls her in and they stand narrowly close to one another, noses just an inch away. "Try not to miss me too much," he murmurs, teasing and haughty amusement dancing in his eyes.
Nanao laughs again, softly this time, smiles with a quiet and agreeable "I'll try."
Last night, they'd come to the decision that while he was away at camp, they'd cut off all communication: no texts, no pictures, no messaging, no phone calls, no emails - nothing. Because he was Atobe Keigo, and he didn't do dependant, clingy relationships; Nanao had a life outside of her relationship with Keigo, had other friends to tend to and family and things to do.
They're not one of those co-dependant, clingy, needy relationship people. Quite the opposite, actually, and he grew tired of all the teasing and jabs as of late.
So for the weekend, they wouldn't contact one another, he'd dominate training, and things would be settled.
That was that.
Nanao leans in, then, squeezes his hands and wrings them a little bit, bounces on her heels. "Have fun, okay? Good luck in beating Echizen-san this time." Her smile is bright and oblivious to the way Keigo's eyes darken, and he sends Yuushi a dangerous glance over Nanao's shoulder.
Oshitari's smile widens, like a cat that's eaten a canary.
"Oi! Fuckin' lovebirds! Let's pack it up, it's time to go - if Seigaku's failure of an acrobat gets the best trampoline at camp because you slowpokes are being lame, then I'm gonna be so pissed-"
Oshitari drops a chaste kiss to Minako's knuckles before stepping towards the bus, waves at Nanao a friendly goodbye on his way there. Keigo's about to board, too, when Nanao flutters her fingers and murmurs a quiet "I'll miss you."
He pauses, then, swoops down to press his lips against hers, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know," he murmurs in her ear. She laughs.
Somewhere on the bus, they can hear Gakuto making gagging sounds and Shishido's long sigh.
And then, he's gone.
Friday night feels a little odd for Nanao. It's probably proof that this exercise is good for them, but she just- she just kind of feels like there's something she's forgetting, something she ought to be doing but isn't. It's a strange feeling, and it's this little uncomfortable niggling at her side that just won't stop no matter what she occupies her time and thoughts with.
Nonetheless, she carries on with her usual routine. She files documents for the student council, does her homework, studies a little for Greek and reviews terms for the upcoming chemistry exam (Gakuto-kun honestly shouldn't tease her so mercilessly about Greek when the fire department was called in because of his mishap in chemistry). She eats dinner with her parents-
"It's nice to see you and Atobe-kun spending so much time together."
Nanao manages a small smile. Her mother is oblivious to her faint discomfort, instead traces the jewels along her neck with a slender finger, smiles proudly at her daughter and it glows in the beam of the chandelier overhead. "Will he be escorting you to the Hanazono yacht party next week?"
Nanao rubs the end of her silver fork with her thumb. It warms under her touch. "Um. I'm not sure- maybe."
He hadn't said anything about it yet, and neither had she. She wants to, would like it if he would, but they could always go with a group, too. She didn't expect him to escort her to everything and she didn't think he did, either.
"Nonsense. You two would make a lovely cover photo on page 9."
Nanao bites her lower lip and chews it instead of her food, because she can't bring herself to swallow anything, anymore.
-and chats with her friend on the phone for a little while, before turning in to sleep.
As she lays on her bed, she wonders for a moment what Keigo would be doing at the moment, allows herself to think about it for a minute or two. That makes her think of the way he plays tennis, visions of him during a match, and it's stunning, even in memory. He's vivid when he plays, a picture of awe and sheer power and a wonderful, wonderful joy so strong she can almost taste it on her tongue.
She thinks of the way his lips curve unconsciously into a smile when he plays, the sweat he usually abhors but doesn't even notice after a match, the way his eyes are alight with so much happiness that it almost blinds her.
He's a different person when he plays tennis. It's his passion for it that makes him come alive, and it's almost like watching a black and white picture burst with colors of every shade when she watches him step onto the courts.
Oshitari-kun's the same way.
It makes her a little- envious.
Her lashes flutter closed upon images of Keigo, dancing across the courts, an emperor on his throne.
Keigo, true to his word, is a picture of grace, condescension and smugness when he steps off the bus to his estate. He hasn't even seen the property before, but he turns to face the group of boys already assembled in the front lawn (Seigaku is here, as promised, and he notes with a cursory glance that Rikkai Dai is, as well) and waves his hand with a flourish towards the estate. "Welcome to Ore-sama's grand vacation home," he says, instead of an actual greeting.
His smirk widens when he hears various snippets of impressed whistles and 'woah's and even hears someone clapping from somewhere in the back. He holds out a hand, snaps, and the double doors to the main entrance burst open, revealing a row of perfectly coordinated maids and butlers.
The murmurs among the crowd double.
Keigo's smirk is still firmly in place. It's good to be king.
Shishido, from beside him, gives an unimpressed snort. "Can you even say 'welcome' to a place you're visiting for the first time, too?"
"Details are irrelevant, Ryou," Keigo replies.
"Whatever," Gakuto chirps, shoves past Shishido to scan the crowd for Kikumaru, one hand dragging a miniature trampoline behind him. "It's probably like all of his other mansions- where's that fail acrobat? I gotta show him my new super moonsault-"
"Steady, Gakuto," Oshitari steps off the bus right behind him and neatly closes his book while he does so. (It's Madame Bovary, and Keigo rolls his eyes with disgust). "I'm sure you'll find him somewhere soon enough."
"Yeah," Gakuto sneers. "The stench of failure is clogging my nose. It must mean he's around here."
Oshitari pats his head gently. "Now now," he murmurs, and there's an amused, devilish curve along his lips. "We need to play nice today."
Gakuto wrinkles his nose at him. "Why?" and his tone is incredulous.
Oshitari pauses. "You're right," he amends. "I think I see Kikumaru Eiji over there, next to Oishi-san."
There's a positively vicious gleam in Gakuto's eyes and they sparkle with anticipation when he catches a glimpse of the other player. "Quick, Yuushi, hold my shit-" he shoves his tennis bag into Oshitari's arms, hauls his trampoline up, and scampers over.
"Oi," Oshitari hears from a distance in Gakuto's distinct voice, filled with an inordinate amount of glee. "Cat freak! Your jumps are still pathetic-"
Keigo rolls his eyes. "Gakuto's overeager competition with Seigaku's Kikumaru is rather unsightly."
Oshitari laughs. "You know how Gakuto is. He has a childish tendency for petulance when he finds someone he's threatened by." Keigo makes a sound that vaguely resembles a snort (because Atobe's never snort, he insists). Oshitari smiles briefly in amusement when a particular Fuji Shusuke steps into his line of vision, whereupon the curve promptly slips from his lips and shatters on the floor into a thousand unimpressed pieces.
"Keigo, be a darling and hold these for me. I've some business to attend to."
He deftly drops both his and Gakuto's tennis bags into Keigo's unexpecting arms before striding quickly, and with clear intent accenting his steps, towards Fuji. He has a little smirk not unlike the one Gakuto's wearing stretched across his features, and Keigo recognizes the challenging gleam in Oshitari's eyes. Pot, kettle.
He huffs, because what is the indignity of being used as some sort of baggage boy? They have five of those standing around to be used, and he was not one of them, thank you very much.
"They're so embarrasing sometimes," Shishido grumbles, and Keigo turns to face him to agree wholeheartedly.
That's when he sees one very, very short boy in a bright white hat, casually sipping from a sleek metal can of Ponta across the field. "Ryou. Take these," he murmurs imperiously, simply drops his, Oshitari's, and Gakuto's tennis bags in front of Shishido with a little flourish of his hand.
Shishido, bewildered, scrabbles to catch them all before they land on the floor. "Oi, Atobe," he starts, turns around to give him a piece of his mind (see, he even used Keigo's last name - he was serious, here-!), when he realizes that Keigo's already gone.
He splutters, looks around, arms at awkard angles in order to hold up the four tennis bags he now has to support.
He finds himself alone.
He really, really hates his team sometimes.
By the end of the day, Atobe Keigo is positively exhausted. It's been nearly three years of meeting up with this same group of athletes, and they really haven't changed all that much over time; the first thing they did, even before the coaches were done unpacking the busses, was to somehow get in brutal, too-serious tennis matches once they hunted down the courts on the grounds.
When the coaches found them thirty minutes after arriving at the estate, most, if not all, of the boys were engaged in a match - and wouldn't stop, not until someone had lost.
Never let it be said that rivalries lessen with time.
It's 9:30 when everyone finally retires to their rooms for some free time (five sets of matches, thirty two laps and about ten variations of conditioning exercises later). Keigo has taken the liberty of taking an entire suite for himself, but when he heads over after practice, Oshitari follows him in and drapes himself over a nearby chair with all the casual calm of someone who owns it.
"Feeling lonely without the she-wolf?" Keigo murmurs, though without too much of the usual bite he has when he mentions her; instead, his voice carries a vague, almost affectionate, teasing lilt as he addresses his friend out of the corner of his eye.
"Darling, you know you're the only one for me," is Oshitari's smooth reply.
Keigo snorts. He finishes taking off his dirty tennis jersey in a single fluid movement, tosses it into the hamper set up in the corner. "And you?" he hears Oshitari ask. "Feeling the vestiges of separation anxiety, yet?"
Keigo slots him a cleary unamused expression, eyes flat and one brow quirked. No, he's about to say - he's utterly and completely fine without her, and in fact, he hadn't noticed her absence at all.
But that would be a lie.
Because when he'd gotten a point past that Echizen brat, he'd almost curved his head to look at the sidelines, thinking he'd find her sitting there. He has conversations with his team and snarky banter with the Seigaku idiots, trades a few comments with the stonewall Sanada and there had been instances in which he'd paused, because he could almost hear what Nanao's response would have been. It's a strange sense of- not crippling, but it feels as though he's lost a charm he'd always carried, is missing something that's ordinarily there.
"I've told you once and I will tell you once more - I am doing flawlessly without her."
After all, he'd beaten that incorrigible first year today, hadn't he?
Oshitari laughs.
When he slips into bed to go to sleep, though, he considers breaking their pact for just a brief moment. He eyes the phone, slides his finger down the side, considering-
He puts it down and turns off the lights and goes to bed.
Saturday after school finds Nanao caught up with student council paperwork. She's just received the quarter budgets from the treasurer and is tasked to go around to the sports teams' captains and get their signature on the appropriate paperwork. Carefully, she sets Keigo's paper to the side of her desk in the council room and neatly picks up the rest of the pile.
It's a lovely, lovely afternoon when she steps outside - the breeze is soft and pleasant and the sun isn't too hot, but there to shine light warmth on her skin where it can. Nanao enjoys her little walk around campus to each of the teams, indulges in the lazy, easy nature of the day. Most people are happy enough to see her, anyway; she'd been a familiar face even before, but since dating Atobe Keigo, she's more welcomed than ever (something that slightly unnerves her, but she won't make a fuss about it).
She visits the tennis courts last, and it feels a little odd, to look over at the courts and find them empty of any of the familiar faces she'd come to know. She almost walks into the boys' courts out of sheer habit alone, but managers to turn and enter the girls' side at the last minute.
Shigohara Minako is easily spotted in a moment's notice.
After all, there's a sizable crowd around the particular court she's playing on, furious whispers and murmurings and Minako had always had this aura that drew people to her anyways. And when Nanao slips herself past the crowd to finally get a glimpse of Minako's match-
-her lips part in surprise.
Shigohara Minako's tennis is stunning. Nanao had always thought that Minako was a lovely, lovely girl - the loveliest - but she must have been mistaken. Because this Minako, the one who played tennis, was so astoundingly beautiful, that she didn't even look like the same person - and when Nanao looks at her now, all unadulterated enjoyment on her features and a vivacious spirit to her eyes, she thinks no wonder Oshitari-kun is so smitten.
And then, she thinks that for all of Keigo's claimed distaste, he and Shigohara-san and Oshitari-kun are all the same.
They come alive when they play tennis, transform in an instant into people alight on wings, drowning in a happiness so strong that Nanao's never even seen it in movies.
In fact, she's so mesmerized by her form, that she forgets entirely to get the paper signed.
"I want what they have," she murmurs to her older sister later that day. "That- I don't know what it is. They- they light up from the inside, like there's something that just burst to life and it's beautiful and amazing and I want to know what it is-"
Megumi laughs softly, pulls Nanao in and pets her head. "It's passion, darling."
"I know what it is," Nanao huffs. "I just meant- I want that, too. It's nice." She peers up at Megumi, who has a thousand passions - who's a vivacious sort of person by nature, finds love and joy in everything and anything around her. It's no wonder she charms men at the drop of a hat, because she's so wholeheartedly in love with the world, it's hard not to fall for Megumi.
"I don't have a passion, nee-chan," and Nanao whispers it like a sad secret, like something that ought to be concealed.
Megumi leans in to press a comforting kiss to her forehead. "Sweetheart, you're only seventeen - you've so much time." She smiles. "Your life is only starting - you can start looking now."
"How?"
"Say yes to things."
Nanao blinks, frowns delicately, because- "I always say yes to things." In fact, some people purposely sought her out to ask for favors, because Suzuki Nanao did not say no (entirely the reason she'd ended up dating Keigo at all, if one really thought about it). Megumi laughs.
"No, darling- say yes to opportunities. If you see a new show opening, go and see it; take a trip out to Rome your next vacation instead of staying home and doing schoolwork; go to museums, walk through unfamiliar neighborhoods. The more you see, the more you learn, and the more you learn, the more you'll grow to love things - and find the thing to love."
Nano stares at Megumi through wide hazel eyes. It's easy to forget that Megumi is so much older, so much wiser than she, but times like these send Nanao reeling.
"Don't worry, darling. You're a brilliant girl. You'll figure something out."
The next day, Nanao stops by the book store on her way home.
She selects a book at random, picks up the first one on display without ever reading the title, and purchases it.
He spends all of two days before the word gets out.
Keigo's been killing it at the camp, winning matches left and right - he's always been a talented player, nationally seeded on his own, but this camp has been a particularly strong wave for him. He beats Echizen Ryoma on the first day there, then defeats Sanada by a narrow point; the next day, he destroys Choutarou (but nobody had really thought that soft little Choutarou could stand up to his Captain, who activated Atobe Kingdom the moment the match started).
He's about to have a match with Tezuka and he anticipates it greatly - he's always rather seen Tezuka as a fitting rival for his greatness. He'd almost say that Echizen would be, too, if it weren't for the awful, awful consequences if he, on the very small chance he would, lost.
He doesn't think his heart can take one more incident like that of The Bet That Shall Not Be Spoken Of.
It's lunchtime in the large, central dining room, and he's just about finished with his meal when he hears the first whisper:
"Wait, what? Atobe has a girlfriend?"
And after that, things start to spin rapidly, rapidly out of his control.
It's not that they're in disbelief that Atobe Keigo has actually found someone other than his own reflection to fall for, it's just that-
-alright, perhaps they're just a bit surprised that he has.
All joking aside, this particular circle of tennis players have all been familiar with one another since their junior high days. They're not all the best of friends, but they're very, very good acquaintances, and some may even call one another good friends. And they've all known Atobe for years, have been there when he shows up for special events with a killer femme fatale on his arm for just that evening.
They just hadn't pegged him as the boyfriend-girlfriend sort of person, is all.
(And they were absolutely right to think so, because he isn't, except he is).
Even Yukimura seems to find a certain sort of interest and amusement in it, murmurs a quiet "Isn't the idea of Atobe Keigo in love romantic? Who would've thought, right, Genichiro?" A pause, and a calculating tilt of his head. "Wonder what it'll mean for nationals this year."
Sanada holds his tongue.
Because he almost says I wouldn't have thought you would be distracted by a girl, either, but apparently soccer shorts and ponytails are what distracts you. But he doesn't, because he is Sanada Genichiro, and he is calm and mature and-
-an easy prey if Seiichi ever decides to turn those deceptively gentle eyes on him and pick at him for the same thing- soccer shorts and pony tails aren't limited to just Seiichi's latest intrigue, after all.
Keigo gets a lot of questions that evening.
They speculate on how hot she must be, how gorgeous, how she's probably a knockout figure with an eight to her body. They wonder what kind of personality it must take, to keep up with Atobe Keigo's, wonder if it's a frightenintly sharp girl with razor wit and tongue.
No, he wants to say - that's more up Yuushi's alley.
His, surprisingly, leads to a softspoken girl (who's unexpectedly stubborn and fierce at all the wrong times), who's not hot or gorgeous or knockout but she's-
-more than that. Better than what those silly little adjectives could hold.
He thinks it, but he doesn't answer any of the questions, instead gives a smirk and flips his hair. Atobe Keigo is, after all, a man of mystery and intrigue.
Shishido promptly chortles at that one.
"Suzuki-san - there's been a pattern to your artwork lately."
Nanao looks up from her easel, then, to the teacher who's come to pause beside her piece. "Oh," she murmurs, and the teacher hurries to give her a smile.
"No, no, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Quite the contrary, actually. It's an interesting shift- rather unique, especially for a high school art class."
Nanao gives a little quiet laugh. "I hadn't particularly aimed for it, it just...happened."
"Well," the teacher says, gazing at her paper. "They're certainly beautiful."
Nanao flushes.
It's a tiebreak, and he has the lead at 34-33. He can return the incoming ball, smash it, and score the last winning point, can flaunt that he defeated Echizen not once, but twice, in the span of two days.
But then, the brat straightens slightly with a smirk playing on his lips. "Oi, Monkey King," he calls from across the courts. Keigo knows the brat is trying to throw him off, and tries his best not to listen. "I think I see your girlfriend over there."
To his credit, he doesn't turn around at those words. He does, however, pause, and that's all it takes for him to miss the sweet spot on his racket, for it to bound upwards as a lob instead of a fearsome smash.
Echizen slices the ball past him and the the scores are tied again. Keigo purses his lips at him. "Really? Didn't take you for someone to stoop so low," he says, irritably.
The freshman's smirk only widens as he readjusts his hat. "Come on, Monkey King. It's your serve - I'll show your girlfriend what you look like when you're bald."
Halfway through Sunday, she realizes that she misses him, but this weekend has been brilliantly productive. Having so much time to herself with no actual expectations or obligations had left her with so many possibilities and a dizzyingly satisfying experience. It wasn't to say that she liked it better without Keigo around, but-
-once in a while, it wasn't so bad, to have some time to herself.
She spend an afternoon with her girl friends, another one peering into bookstores by herself, even visits the spa with her older sister. Nanao misses him sometimes, in the odd lapses between her heartbeats, wonders what he's doing because it's strange, having no idea what he's up to.
She almost feels refreshed, though, feels as though she's gone on some self-rejuvenation period. So she spends her Monday in a bright mood, all cheerful laughter and kind smiles towards any acquaintance she passes by in the hallway. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that practically the entire school was waiting with baited breath for the moment Keigo returned, she'd have forgotten that today was the day entire.
"This," Keigo declares, "has been a terribly long weekend."
Gakuto is entirely passed out in the limousine seat beside him, as is Jiroh, though that's nothing new in particular. Shishido is almost asleep himself, and Choutarou holds onto his consciousness by a thread; even Kabaji looks a bit worse for wear. Oshitari is completely unruffled, though, if not a bit subdued, but he doesn't read like he normally might.
"I agree," he murmurs instead.
It's currently 9:32 PM, and Keigo's limousine speeds through the city in order to drop the regulars off at each of their homes (he's generous, after all). The car is silent - everyone's much too exhausted to speak, and Keigo finds himself thinking longingly of his satin sheets and goose feather pillows.
By the time the last regular - a half-stumbling Jiroh, who's hardly awake enough to make it past the front gates of his home - he's ready to go to sleep in this very vehicle. Keigo parts his lips, starts to tell the driver to head home, but then-
He kind of wants to go somewhere else, instead.
He stands at the familiar entrance he's stood upon hundreds of times and thinks that he knows it so well he could duplicate it if he wanted to. He stares at the little glass light overhead, and if he's quiet enough, can hear the faint sound of running water from the fountain he knows is behind him. The air's a little chilly, and he almost shivers, when the door swings open.
And she's standing there, already changed into her soft cotton pajamas and hair untucked and slightly unruly with faint curls and eyes widening by the second. "You're back," she breathes, and it's like she's surprised and confused and elated all at once.
Keigo simply quirks his head, lets his lips tilt into a small smirk. "Clearly." He thinks perhaps he should apologize for stopping by so late, give some sort of an explanation as to why he is, but he loses the chance when the smaller form in front of him practically rushes at him with her whole weight.
He's proud to say he doesn't stumble, just catches his hand on the doorway and wraps the other around her waist as her arms come to wrap around his middle. Keigo still has words he wants to say, explanations, excuses, justifications, but they die on his tongue when she steps back to beam at him, to say "Welcome back."
And she smiles at him as though it's the most normal thing in the world for him to be standing here and not at his own house the minute he's returned. Keigo had been about to go home, he really had, but then he thought of hollow, empty rooms and emptier halls and found himself experiencing a sharp flicker of longing for a room too girly to be considered elegant the way elegance means in his own manor, a room with pale beige carpeting and pink accents and a small stain in the corner from where Nanao had dropped her soda. (*1)
Before he knew it, he'd told his driver to bring him here and he'd messaged her to come out.
He smiles a small smile back at her and for a moment, she pauses in the doorway. "Did you want to stay, or are you going back home?"
He'd only intended to stop by and say hello, but- "Stay," he says instead, and Nanao smiles brightly, slips her hand in his and pulls him in.
"Okay."
Later, when they're settled in and the television makes a comforting sort of background noise, Keigo shifts so that his nose is pressed up against the side of her head. "Miss me?" he asks, and it's teasing, but murmured in a drawl in his tiredness.
"Mm. Did you?"
He thinks of how he did, of how he could function perfectly well - perhaps even better - without her around, but how he didn't quite mind, anyway. "No," he says. A quiet pause. "But I want you around just the same, all the time."
Things are quiet for such a long while he almost falls asleep.
Then slender fingers slip into his, squeeze his just a bit. "Me too," he hears, and almost laughs.
Tanemura Kaede wakes up on a Saturday.
She'd been on her way to a small business meeting in the back seat of her town car, driven by her usual chauffeur, when an oncoming truck loses control and barrels into the side of the rear end. The driver avoids any long-lasting damage, but Kaede receives the brunt of the damage - a broken rib and four other broken bones, a crushed collarbone and a coma. She's taken care of in the number one hospital England has to offer.
She stays in this coma for nearly three weeks.
When she finally awakens, it's a maid who answers the call from the hospital. The maid, in turn, contacts Atobe Akihiko who's in Italy for a shareholders' meeting. She then hurries upstairs, knocks on the young master's door, peers in to say-
"Bocchama, we've received word from St. Marks - Tanemura-sama has woken up."
Nanao bursts through the door at 6:14 PM. She's harried and messy and her hair is a complete trainwreck, face bare of any makeup and dressed sloppily in a knit jumper and leggings. She only has her phone clutched in her small hand.
When she catches sight of Keigo, her wide eyes freeze, as if waiting for something.
"I just spoke to her on the phone. She's- she'll be better soon."
Nanao's entire frame seems to sag with the relief visible on her features, and her thin shoulders droop down until they're sloping. She doesn't really have anything to say, not really, so instead, she makes her way over to where he's sitting at the plush bench at the foot of his bed. She curls up beside him, tucking her legs underneath her, and nudges his shoulder in a way that comforts him more than he'd like to say.
He leans his head on her shoulder, likes the way that he'd only had to message her that news had arrived of his aunt's condition for her to rush over in the next minute. "I'd have liked to go visit her," he murmurs, and both of them know that he's not allowed to.
But Nanao had always let him voice his desires, even if it was something obviously futile, had made him feel comfortable in being pointless.
She lopes her arms around his neck, then, and he can feel the soft texture of the sweater against his skin. "We can go to the florist tomorrow," she whispers. "I'm sure we can have some nice bouquets arranged."
And he likes the way she says we, assumes that they're doing this thing together, that she's going to stick it out with him even for the silly, trifling things like making flower arrangements. He supposes this is the way she's always been with him, though, the way that she just reaches out and holds people and anchors them through everything despite her own weak frame.
The thought makes him wrap his arm around her waist and pull her in a little closer. "Mm."
She stays the night, watches terrible reality television with him until three a.m. when he can finally sleep as the buzzing adrenaline from relief wears off.
He sleeps in until 9:30 the next morning. He typically wakes up a bit earlier, but he takes care to have his beauty sleep in the appropriate times, and he figures that this was as good a day as any. When he does get up, he finds that Nanao's already left, the left side of the bed empty and neatly made.
He blinks once, twice, finds a small frown on his lips because hadn't they made plans for the day? He supposes it's not a big deal, though, and sets about entering the shower to start his day.
It's 10 and in the middle of his morning cup of tea when Nanao stumbles through the door, hair windswept and cheeks flushed from the outdoor air and sun. She's wearing a clean-cut pink dress she must have changed into and clutching a small box of pastries in her hand when she does, and she sets it down on the tea table in front of him. "Sorry," she huffs, a little out of breath. "I ran some errands. I thought I'd be back before you woke up, though."
She frowns a little. "I thought you'd sleep a little bit more. You know- for your beauty sleep."
Keigo coolly sips his tea. "Ore-sama doesn't need beauty sleep," he sniffs, and Nanao laughs a little.
"What errands?" he asks. Nanao pauses.
"Um," she's flustered, he can tell, and it makes him quirk a brow. "Just. Little things, here and there."
He stares at her through deadpan eyes for the next few moments and, if possible, she looks even more discomfited. Couldn't maintain a poker face to save her life, he thinks, and typically it's endearing but at the moment it only serves to heighten his suspicions. Clearly, she's hiding something; Keigo prepares to go in for the kill, because getting a secret out of Nanao is like taking candy from a baby.
But Nanao scrambles forward to open the box with a weak smile, rushes through with a "But I brought you some pastries from Antoine's - you like their tea cakes, right?"
He narrows his eyes at her diversion but for now, let's the matter rest.
Keigo means to confront her after tea, but the minute he's done she stands up and collects her bag with a bright smile. "I called the florist earlier so we have an appointment at 11:30," she says, "We can look at their arrangements and have one made and delivered over in their London branch."
He temporarily pushes the confrontation to later. He calls for a maid before standing up as well, and as soon as the chauffeur brings the car around, the two are out the door and on their way.
When they get there - a high-end flower arrangements company well-known among their circles with enough branches worldwide to ensure that deliveries can be made almost anywhere - they're greeted by one of the florists with a photo glossary and examples. Nanao is drawn to a beautiful crystal vase filled with purple irises and white roses, and that's the one he likes, too.
He writes a small note to accompany the arrangement, and plans are made for it to be delivered by the next day from their London branch.
After that, time passes a little more quickly. It's a flurry of exams and papers and extensive school assignments, and college selections are about to be made - after all, February's already descended upon them and graduation would be in March. It's hard to believe that it's already been- almost a year since they'd started this whole thing, since she'd met Keigo.
College entrance exams are also this month, but at such an extensive preparatory academy as Hyotei, such things aren't very large matters for most of the students. Most, after all, have been prepared both by Hyotei and outside supplemental classes since their junior high years to take the exams for the handful of colleges most of them would be expected to enter. Tokyo University, for one, has been known to take many, many students from Hyotei (after all, the privileged upper crust like to send their children to the best, and what is better than Tokyo U?).
Hyotei students treat the exams like any other school exams, are rather confident in their abilities to get satisfactory scores.
Both her older siblings, as well as her parents, had attended Tokyo University in their time. And for all of Nanao's nervousness about tests in general, she isn't too worried about this one, to be quite honest; Keigo and Yuushi-kun act so casual about the whole affair that one might think they were taking it for sheer amusement instead of their future careers.
The only thing that really strikes her as worrisome is- the idea of the future as a whole. Going to college is well and expected, but she doesn't really know what her major would be, not completely, and it stresses her beyond belief. Keigo only knocks her forehead and rolls his eyes, but he wouldn't understand, not when he's known his major would be business management since he was old enough to understand the concept of college.
She's had a bit of an idea since a few months ago, though, but she isn't completely sure, not yet, and she wouldn't know until March if her application would be-
"I can hear your brain overthinking."
Nanao looks over at Keigo with a sigh, rests her head against her hand. He's carefully inspecting his fingernails with a devil-may-care sort of stance, elbow propped up on the desk. They're currently in-between classes, having wrapped up Greek and preparing for History.
"Stop it. You're distracting me from inspecting my cuticles," he murmurs, and Nanao purses her lips. "Or tell me what you've been fretting about these past few days. But stop with the," he makes a waving motion with his hand, "-worrying."
Nanao pulls out her history textbook and only purses her lips. "It's nothing," she says. "I'll stop worrying."
"Good."
There are some people who place excessive importance in their birthdays: they mention it as early as a month before the actual date, make sure that everyone else knows that it's their birthday soon, hands out lists of wanted presents. They make a very, very big deal out of it and it's a lot of fanfare, because it's a birthday, see.
Nanao is not one of those people.
In fact, if it's a particularly hectic sort of month, she often forgets it's her birthday until the actual week is upon her. Likewise, she's not the attention sort of girl, shies away from too much of it at any given moment, so she's always quietly declined her parents' offers to throw her a large bash (not unlike the ones Keigo has for his own). Her siblings, though, quite like to indulge in theirs.
Instead, she spends hers quietly, preferrably with friends and family at separate times. She may have a small gathering at her home or a nice dinner at an upscale restaurant, but never anything too large, like a party or anything.
Keigo's known her birthday for a while, now, the same way he has all the regulars' birthdays memorized and on a chart in the back of the clubroom. He doesn't say anything about it, though, because he relishes in surprises. For a while, he considers throwing her a grand ball, even has the color scheme (purple and silver) picked out, until Oshitari quirks a brow at him.
"Are you quite sure that this is for Nanao-chan, or because you like planning parties?"
Keigo looks affronted. "Why can't it be both?"
"Becase I somehow doubt that Nanao would like the ten-foot-tall ice sculpture replica centerpiece you've planned out."
"Nonsense - this is so tasteful that I'd even have it at my own party-"
"It's a sculpture of you, Keigo."
Keigo only sniffs. A pause. Then: "I did consider the idea that she wouldn't really enjoy a party, but-" he sighs. "I just thought she deserved a spotlight every now and then."
Oshitari shrugs. "Would she even enjoy it, though? If not, then perhaps something more quiet is best."
Keigo sighs in a long-suffering way, stares ruefully at the picture of the sculpture they'd already made. "Would you-"
"I don't need a ten foot tall sculpture of you, Keigo."
The statue is later found gracing the top of a small stone pedestal, located in the center of the tennis courts. It's large and obnoxiously obtrusive as it stands in the center of the pathway that divides the girls' and boys' tennis courts, and by the time lunch time rolls around, most of the students have found their way to the sculpture. Some even pose for a picture beside it, as if it were an actual landmark, and at some point, Keigo himself graces the sculpture, whereupon more students want a picture with him and the statue together.
("Why the fuck hasn't it melted yet," is Gakuto's incredulous demand).
Shishido, for one, finds that he's ready to give up on humanity as a whole.
Nanao doesn't say a word about the sculpture.
Shigohara Minako 'accidentally' smashes a tennis ball into the statue, where it firmly embeds itself in the crotch area.
While Keigo keeps the actual present under wraps, it'd be silly to pretend that he's not planning anything at all, as his affinity for gift giving in general is one of his well-known traits. A week before her actual birthday, he nudges Nanao's arm, asks "Is there anything you want for your birthday?"
He can almost predict - word for word - her response, which comes as a: "Oh- You don't really have to get me anything."
He rolls his eyes, and Nanao laughs a little sheepishly. "Or. Um. I don't know- erasers? I'm almost done using mine."
Keigo gives her a disgusted expression this time, because really, who asked Atobe Keigo for erasers? But then, Nanao only quirks her lips into a soft, tentative smile, tilts her head to the side and says "Honestly, anything you get me is fine. I appreciate the effort a lot more."
She knows that it's cliche'd, knows that it's a phrase often used to avoid sounding needy, but- she already knows that he can get her anything money can afford, but that's never quite been what she liked about Keigo, anyway. If she wanted something so badly, she could have always had her parents buy it for her. Rather, she really does appreciate the effort Keigo puts into things, thinks it's sweet, the way he compulsively purchases things for his friends and family.
He only rolls his eyes and pushes her a little.
In the end, he doesn't hold a grand ball in honor of Suzuki Nanao's birthday. He'd have liked to, not unlike the way he'd thrown a festival for Kabaji's, but he knows that where Kabaji quietly takes in the attention without much fuss, Nanao feels a slight bit of discomfort at it. So he forgoes the party, and instead, makes a quiet affair of it instead.
Her birthday falls on February 5th on a Sunday. She has dinner plans with her family so he has to return her by then, but he takes monopoly of her morning and afternoon; when Nanao wakes up, it's to the overwhelming aroma of flowers, for he's had one thousand white roses delivered to her room.
Later, Oshitari will raise a brow and murmur a "Really? A thousand? A bit excessive, don't you think - do you want her to drown in flowers or something?" but Keigo's always lived by the motto that more is always better.
And Nanao, even if she can hardly take a step in her bedroom without being in danger of crushing a flower underfoot, can't help the mile-wide smile that spreads on her lips. When Megumi peeks in her room and blinks, wide-eyed, Nanao beams, twirls a flower between her fingertips. "Atobe?" Megumi asks.
Nanao's smile, if possible, brightens even more. She nods.
"That family never does anything in halves," is all Megumi says, rolling her eyes, but there's a clear fond note in her voice.
Nanao gets ready for the day with a little help from her older sister, and by the time Keigo shows up at 11, she's dressed in a pretty blue dress her sister had bought her for her birthday ("I know Atobe is your boyfriend, but sister knows best, okay?").
Nanao loves her sister but she's just turned eighteen and has a floor carpeted in white roses, so really, she can't help it that she wraps Keigo in a tight hug the moment she sees him. "Thanks," she murmurs. "The flowers, I mean. They're- really really lovely."
Keigo only smirks (suck it, Yuushi) and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I know." His smirk is terribly smug, and Nanao can't help the little huff of laughter that escapes her lips.
"Hurry up," he rolls his eyes. "I have to have you back here by five."
When Nanao reaches Keigo's precious Lamborghini, parked in the driveway, she blinks, because it seems even shinier than it'd been the last time she'd seen it. She asks about it, only to be faced with a murderous expression on Keigo's face. "This is Elizabeth the Fourth," he hisses.
Nanao blinks again. "Wasn't it-"
"Elizabeth the Third is currently being reholstered. Completely."
"...Why?"
"Because. Because- that traitorous backstabber and that woman have no doubt used it for- for- for unsavory purposes and-"
He's unable to form coherent sentences for a little while after that, too consumed by anger at the memories. Nanao can only choke down a laugh.
They go to eat brunch at one of her favorite restaurants, and he finally acquiesces to see that romantic comedy Nanao's been itching to see for a while. He huffs that his home theater is better, but Nanao rather likes the movie theater experience; it is, after all, her birthday.
Most of her friends had bestowed her with presents during school on Saturday, including Oshitari, who presented her with a stack of three novels he'd hand-selected - beautifully bound with gold lettering on the covers. Keigo had already known what he was getting her, had even gloated that his present was much, much better.
"Keigo," Oshitari had sighed. "You're her boyfriend. If you got her a present that didn't beat my three books, then you wouldn't really be Atobe Keigo, would you."
By the time the movie ends, it's nearly 1 in the afternoon, and Nanao is positively delighted at the day's events. "Time to receive your present," Keigo says as soon as they enter the car again.
Nanao pauses while she's buckling her seat belt. "My- present?"
"You didn't think the flowers were your present, did you?"
"I- sort of did. I mean, they were so lovely, and there were so many-"
"Nanao," he sighs, and it's a deep, long-suffering sort of sound. "Ore-sama does not gift flowers. Flowers are a mere appetizer for the main course."
"But I really liked the flowers-"
"Just buckle your seat belt."
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited, just a little bit.
The excitement slowly ebbs away into confusion, however, when they reach their destination. Keigo exits the car with an achingly casual air, as though nothing were out of the ordinary, staring directly up at the sun through his black shades. Nanao fumbles with her belt and gets out of the car a moment later, though she leans against the door a little to murmur a "Keigo?"
"Yes?"
"What are we...doing here?"
Nanao trails off to stare at the entrance gates to the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, an expansive park of nearly 150 acres of beautiful, professionally designed gardens. She's been here a time or two for field trips before, as well as visits to some of their renowned tea houses inside; it's a gorgeous place to visit during some idle free time, but she's not quite sure why they're here today.
Both of them, after all, have been to the Garden enough times to know most of the exhibits.
"You do ask so many questions," Keigo sighs, as though she were troubling him greatly with her comments. Nanao frowns, then, and he laughs at it a little bit. "Just come on, you turtle."
Nanao parts her lips to protest at the nickname, but Keigo only rolls his eyes and pulls her along, past the gate with already paid-for tickets - which only cements her confusion.
He continues along the gardens as casually as ever, and for a while, they even join a small tour group. Nanao's still very much confused, but she supposes that one can never quite understand what's going on through his head, so she shrugs it off and starts to look around the gardens with renewed interest. The place is awfully pretty, and it's always been a pleasant area to visit, if only for the beautiful scenery.
They go through three of the different garden exhibits when Keigo pulls her by the hand through a series of archways, wrapped in ivy and pink and white blooms. "Was there a specific part you wanted to see?" she asks as she stumbles along, trying to steady herself.
His smirk grows a litte wider. Nanao sighs but goes along anyway, because when had she ever had a choice when it concerned Keigo?
And then, they come out on the other side of the long pathway, and it's-
-a field she hasn't seen before here. Which is odd, because she'd been quite sure that she's been here enough to have seen all the different garden exhibits.
It's still beautiful, though, and it's a square plaza with a small fountain in the center, where small children and mothers were seen frolicking about and throwing the odd coin inside. It's surrounded by fields of tulips, of every vivid shade imaginable, and it's such a radiant image that for a second, Nanao can't do much else but take it all in. Once her range of sight can expand past the ring of tulips surrounding the fountain, she finds a small teahouse to one corner, a few wooden benches scattered around, and lush, bright green grass underfoot everywhere. (*1)
"Is this a new exhibit?" she asks, hand falling from Keigo's as she takes an almost unconscious step forward, towards the tulips. "This place is so pretty."
She blinks when she finds his hand wrapping around her forearm and gently tugging her along, to the center of the square, where there's a thin bronze plaque mounted on a metal stand. Nanao peers at him, bewildered, but he only nudges his chin towards the sign.
She takes another step forward to read it, where it says-
'Suzuki Nanao Plaza, est. -'
It's recent, is the first thing she can think of. Finished construction in the past week or so, even, and the implications of the name hasn't even hit her yet. She stares at it, numbly, for a minute or so, until it all hits her at once and she whirls around with impoosibly wide eyes.
"You- you bought me a garden?" she half-whispers.
"Constructed," he corrects. "Constructed a garden." Because, well, until he'd commissioned it, this plaza hadn't existed at all.
Nanao's eyes widen until it looks like it hurts, and her hands fly up to clamp over her lips, where she lets out something that sounds suspiciously like a squeak. Her lashes are fluttering as she blinks, rapidly, eyes still large and chest heaving with sudden breaths. "You-" she breathes, and it's muffled behind her hands. "-how did you- When-"
Slowly, she turns around to face the square again, takes it in, takes in the impossibly bright hues that dance across her vision, the paved cobblestone pathways and butterflies fluttering through the air. "Tulips," she finally murmurs, fingers lowering to fumble with one another.
Tulips were her favorite.
And when she turns back to look at him, all he does is give this little shrug, as though it were nothing at all. That's when she knows, quite thoroughly, that she's gone on this boy and there really was no saving her now, not when he's ruined her for anyone else.
She hasn't even considered the monetary implications of this present, can only focus on the fact that he knows her favorite flower, and had created an entire garden for her based off of the small detail, and it has her heart fluttering so rapidly in her chest that it hurts. "This is- This is crazy," she breathes, and she feels like there's a lack of air somewhere around here.
"I know," and it's impossibly smug.
It takes her another minute of staring almost reverently at the square before she can move again. She stumbles across the space between herself and Keigo, practically flings herself at him and throws her arms around his shoulders and presses her face into his collarbone. "Thank you," she says, muffled by his shirt. "This is- Oh my goodness, this is so beautiful and I don't- Thank you so much this is lovely and you're lovely and you didn't have to do all of this because this is absolutely, incredibly crazy and I just-"
Keigo pulls back to press his hand against her lips and rolls his eyes affectionately. (He also can't help the little smug thought of 'Let's see you ever top this, Oshitari Yuushi'). He leans in to press his lips on the tip of her nose, watches as she wrinkles it and goes almost cross-eyed as she attempts to look at him.
"As long as you know that I'm incredible, it's fine."
A pause. "Oh, and. Happy birthday, Nanao."
endnotes.
(*1) there's a small picture to accompany this on my tumblr, so go check that out! (the link is at the top of my bio).
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