The next day at school, nobody asked why so suddenly the student body president and her faithful lapdog refused to talk to each other, or why said lap dog had a very red right cheek and yet a pallid left, or why, the weekend after the principal warned of several lay-offs and reduced funds, there was a long overdue construction crew on site set to remodel the horrendous rest rooms. Nobody asked, but everybody wondered, except one.

Misaki had told only one other person of the secret of Seiki high's new budget. There was only one person she trusted to not disclose the information to nosy journalism students or even the staff; Misaki respected Usui's desire for privacy, but she didn't want to be burdened with the knowledge alone, and she knew better than to make such important decisions autonomously. However, judging by Misaki and Usui's interaction, or lack thereof, Yukimura suspected that Usui had been far too indiscreet about his private life than Misaki would like.

As curious as he was, Yukimura, more than anyone else, knew better than to ask about Misaki's personal life. He could ask her how to process these papers and how deal with that teacher and what punishment was suitable for what crime, and she would answer all of his question with efficiency and patience, but there was a tacit agreement between them that whenever Usui came in and the two suddenly disappeared from view, no questions were asked. Even if, he reminded himself, the president is so bothered by whatever happened that she was signing her approval for the Senior Superiority Over Underclassmen Club while seeming to stare right through the paper.

"Um… President?"

"What is it, Yukimura?" Her voice didn't even have that terse quality when she was trying to get something done.

"I don't mean to pry, but are you sure it's okay for the Chemistry Club to experiment after hours, unsupervised, with leftover chemicals from their acid and bases lab?"

"No, that's absolutely ridic—Oh." Misaki quickly scribbled out her name and slammed the "REJECTED" stamp on the paper with more ferocity and speed than Yukimura thought she had. "Well, thank you Yukimura. You can go back to work now."

Fearing for the longevity of the stamp and ink, Yukimura nodded and headed back to his desk. Even the stack of papers higher than his head couldn't make him feel better.

School, at last, ended, and Yukimura prepared to go home. He had managed to reduce the stack to about half of its original size and tried not let the thought of even more papers that would replenish the stack tomorrow ruin his accomplishment. Misaki, across the room, kept her head bowed all day as she worked through her share and some of other's as well, though Yukimura reminded himself to quality check hers in the morning.

"Um… President?"

"What is it, Yukimura?"

"I think I'll go home now. See you tomorrow."

"All right. See you tomorrow. Good work today."

Smiling to himself, Yukimura left the Student Council room ready for a nap to prepare for the two hours of wrestling with his Japanese homework. He arrived at his locker to find Kanou already waiting for him.

"Why do you always look so happy after school?" Kanou asked, clearly not happy to be there.

"Would it be more appropriate to happy before school? And I've told you before, you don't have to wait for me."

Kanou shrugged. "I wouldn't want you to get attacked on your way home. You give off an aura of vulnerability, you know."

"Actually, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about, Kanou-kun." Yukimura opened his locker and put away his math book, at which point, Kanou said, "You don't bring your math book home?"

"I've never really had to. Japanese, on the other hand, I—"

But Kanou never learned about that Japanese did to Yukimura, for at that point Yukimura froze and then began to rummage through his extremely organized locker while whispering "Oh no" over and over to himself.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't find it!"

"Find what?"

"My Japanese notebook! But I put it right here—It's got my notes and the prompt and my rough draft and everything and if I don't find it, I'm going to fail the essay because there's no way I can do it from memory or at least it'd take me—"

"Run on sentence."

"You're not helping, Kanou!" cried Yukimura as he seized Kanou by the shoulders. "Where could it be?"

Kanou sighed and peeled Yukimura off of him. "Did you try the student council room?"

"Of course I—oh. Of course! Thanks, Kanou-kun, I'll be right back!"

Yukimura ran off, leaving Kanou alone, who realized that, the time being a quarter to six, he had no hope of making it home before dinner and might as well follow the other boy and comfort him when he realized his notebook wasn't there.

Yukimura was never very athletic, but it was rumored that he once outran a bus when he realized he left his homework on it. He always denied that rumor (while blushing), but in this case, he managed to run from his locker on the third floor to he student council room on the first in a record thirty-two seconds (Misaki had set the previous record at thirty-five while chasing a pair of renegades who had the guts to set off the sprinklers in their math class to avoid a test). When he arrived, he was relieved to find the door still open. He was about to go in, when he saw not only Misaki, but Usui as well.

"Eighty-six percent," said Usui.

"I think I know what I got on my own test."

"Eighty-six percent."

Yukimura craned his head around the door frame to get a better look (so he could get the notebook, the notebook), but Misaki and Usui were sitting out of view.

"What is the hell is your problem? You ignore me all day, and the first thing you say is how pathetically low my test score was?"

"I only ignored president because I was too afraid that she would hit me again if I talked to her."

"Look, I'm sorry about that. I overstepped my boundaries. It won't happen again."

"How surprising! The president is apologizing to me for something I actually deserved."

"Shut up."

Yukimura heard the sound of a chair squealing against the floor.

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Really? Then why'd you hit me?"

"I—what was I supposed to do?"

"You could have stayed for dinner. I worked so hard on it, especially for you."

"Stop it!"

She slammed her pen down.

"I don't know what you're playing at. You—you call me over and—do things…"

"It's called kissing."

"And then a girl walks in, whom you've been expecting all day, and it turns out she's your fiancée?! And you introduce me as your maid! Damn it, Usui! I can't believe you!"

"It's an arranged marriage."

There was a pause.

"At least, that's what I'd like to say. I actually did propose to her."

"Get out of my office, you scumbag."

"When I was ten, that is. And technically, I own this office now."

There was another pause, followed by footsteps.

"Wait, Ayusawa."

"Usui, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I really don't care."

"Our parents introduced her to me when I was five. It's not an arranged marriage, but it might as well be. My point is, Ayusawa, I don't love her. I can't call off the marriage yet, and we might even have to tie the knot before we can cut the string, but—"

"One: that analogy was disgusting. Two: It doesn't matter. I'm not going to be the reason you leave this girl out in the cold. I don't like men who run out on their families, remember?"

"Don't be so conceited. I never planned to stay with Sachi, or go along with any of my parents' stupid little plans. And she isn't like you: she won't be forced to attend a school that isn't good enough for her, or work at a job she hates, or ask the scumbag that just saved her school to get out of her office. But you're right; it was a pretty cheesy analogy."

There was another pause. Yukimura's legs were starting to ache.

"What are you doing?" Kanou clamped his hand over Yukimura's mouth before he could react.

After Yukimura's heart calmed down, he pulled Kanou's hand off. "They're having a conversation. It would be rude to interrupt."

"She's staying with you, right? Where does she sleep?"

"There's a bedroom. You've just never seen it."

"And you've never used it. Where is she going to school?"

"Miyabi-goaka Academy. Looks like you won't run into her much."

"Who's she?" asked Kanou.

"Um… er… shh!"

"I still don't know what you want from me, Usui."

"I don't know either."

Again there was silence, but Yukimura could tell without looking why.

"They're doing something, aren't they?"

"Quiet!" hissed Yukimura.

"You're blushing. So girly."

There were sounds of paper rustling, and Kanou pulled Yukimura back into hallway just before Misaki came out of the room.

"I'm not kissing you again," she said, wiping her mouth with her hand.

Usui came out after her, looking pleased with himself. "That's all right. I can replay that moment in my head over and over again." He pursed his lips and began to make out with the air.

Misaki giggled before clamping her lips together. "Idiot. And I did not look like that."

"Yes, you did. See?" Usui titled his head in imitation of Misaki's height and batted his eyelashes.

Misaki laughed out loud. "Stop it! I have to get home. Oh shoot, I forgot to lock the door."

Yukimura stood stone-still as Misaki and Usui left before running up to the student council room's door and pulling. "No…" he sobbed.

"You should have just asked," said Kanou. "She probably wouldn't have minded."

Yukimura collapsed and fell into a pile on the floor. "I'm doomed."

Kanou had to pick up Yukimura, who was sobbing and babbling incoherently to himself, and drag him to the school's entrance, where they found Yukimura's notebook on the steps.