The last thing Misaki needed was to plan another fundraiser, but she hated the thought of relying of Usui's money for even a second longer than she needed to. At least it gave her an excuse to stay at school late; the last thing she wanted was for a certain someone to tag along after her and offer to walk her home.
A bake sale. It seemed simple enough: design, print, and distribute flyers, find out who was making what, establish prices, and find a date and location. It seemed so easy. So why was she sitting at her desk, holding her head?
She could hear Sakura fretting behind her chair to Shizuko. She told the two of them to go home, they insisted on waiting for her. Now all three of them were at school at six, and whose fault was that? Certainly not hers.
"Go home, you guys. It's my job to do this, not yours." She made a display of sketching a poster, but she was never good at drawing.
"Is it really the bake sale that's bothering you?" asked Shizuko, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
"Of course it is. Our school needs this money."
Shizuko and Sakura shared a glance. The shorter girl chewed her bottom lip.
"Sakura thinks this has something to do with Usui."
"Shizuko! Couldn't you have put that more gently?"
"Did I say something wrong?" Sakura only wrung her hands. Shizuko placed a hand on Misaki's shoulder. "We're worried about you, Misaki."
Misaki shook the hand off and plastered on a smile. "There's nothing to worry about, Shizuko. I'm fine, really." Shizuko only frowned, which riled Misaki's nerves even more. Couldn't her friends see that she couldn't talk about this with them, that she wanted to be alone? "It's nothing," she said, words biting and closed for conversation.
"Why are you being like this, Misaki? Don't you trust us?"
All of Misaki's anger melted into guilt as she turned her chair to see Sakura's eyes damp and frustrated. "Of course I do. I trust you more than anyone."
Sakura shook her head wildly. "No, you don't. You've been keeping secrets from us for a long time, and we've known, but we didn't say anything because we thought you'd be okay. But now you are definitely NOT OKAY!"
"S-Sakura! Don't cry—really, it's nothing, you're exaggerating! Shizuko, do something."
Shizuko crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Misaki. She's right."
Sakura sniffed and wiped her face. "Of course I am! You may not tell me everything, but I still know you better than anyone else. Except Shizuko."
"Thanks."
That was the funny thing about Sakura, Shizuko, and Misaki; even when they were fighting, they could still make each other laugh. Misaki was having the first argument that made her red in the face, but she felt better than she had in days. "I'm sorry, Sakura, Shizuko. You're right. I am definitely not okay."
This was not how she was planning to tell Sakura and Shizuko about the maid café.
"Oh my gosh, Misaki, that's awful. What's the pay like?"
"No, Sakura."
"But Shizuko—"
"No."
This was not how she was planning to tell them about Usui and Sachi and the truth about the school's mysterious financial miracle.
"Good riddance, Misaki. He was never good enough for you anyway."
"But Shizuko, I haven't really said goodbye to him yet."
"I'll do it for you."
"No, Shizuko."
"But Sakura—"
"No."
But then again, she never really planned to tell them anything at all.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. There's no way the school can raise enough money to pay Usui back."
It was seven in the evening now. They really should get home. A trio of girls in their school uniforms, walking home this late, was asking for trouble.
"I don't get what the problem is," said Sakura, barely holding back a yawn. "It's not like he's using it against you, is he?"
"He might," said Shizuko. "I don't think it's a coincidence that he effectively bought our school at the same time his fiancé came to town. But I also don't think there's anything we can do about it."
"Usui cares about Misaki. He'd never hurt her."
"Clearly, there's a lot about him that we don't know. Has he ever told you anything about his parents?"
"No. I've avoided asking him. I don't want to think about the kind of people who made THAT."
"I bet they're beautiful," sighed Sakura, fatigue replaced by fantasy, no doubt fueled by the sunset. It was time for them to leave.
"You know what they say about beauty. It's too suspicious, Misaki. It's not that I don't trust your judgment, but—"
"I wouldn't blame you," laughed Misaki. "I haven't shown very good judgment lately. Asking Usui that—how stupid. What was I thinking?"
"Misaki, don't be so hard—"'
"Let's go home." Misaki pushed in her chair and straightened up her papers. As always with Shizuko and Sakura, she was able to get something done without even realizing it. She left the classroom without looking back, knowing they'd follow her.
"I have to lock up," she said to the other girls. "Security, you know." They nodded and agreed to wait for her outside of the main entrance.
The empty school hallways were becoming more and more of a familiar sight to her. She ran, anxiously aware of the time, recalling all those times she nagged the boys not to run and punched them when they did. The principal had locked his door, as he always did. But in the dim lighting of the sun through the windows, she saw an envelope on the floor. The principal must have dropped it in his usual flurry to get things done. She could have waited until the next day to give it to him, but wasn't things like this the reason she had a key to his office?
Misaki turned the knob, and to her surprise, there were a spread of papers covering the normally scrupulously clean desk of the principal.
Misaki was not nosy. She was respectful of her boundaries, maybe even too much so. But it was hard to ignore something that was right in front of her, especially when they were blown up photos beside fancy-looking documents, especially when she could recognize one of the faces.
"Sachi."
There she was, with longer hair, standing beside people who could only be her parents. She had her white fur coat wrapped around her tightly, cheeks red and eyes unhappy. A woman, with Sachi's brown hair, had her arm wrapped around a man, with Sachi's brown eyes. The man was shaking hands with someone in a suit, balding and stout.
Another picture, this time of Sachi's father with another woman, around Sachi's age. Misaki was certain this woman was not Sachi's sister.
Another picture, this time of Sachi's mother on the street at night. The lighting was too dim to see anything clearly, only that there was a man there.
An article with the headline, "Satsuya Conglomerate Buys Wakana Film and Electronics," with words highlighted: …Unexpectedly low price… little or no deliberation on the part of Wakana… Wakana's current personal issues…
A heart was pounding somewhere in the room, but Misaki was too distracted to wonder whose it was.
There must have been dozens of pictures and even more reports. There was no time to go through all of them, and Misaki had no reason to. Why was she still in the office?
"Usui Corporation Files For Bankruptcy"
Did she really just read that?
Yes, there it was, buried deep under other articles. She must have uncovered it when she moved things around. Hopefully, the principal wouldn't notice when he came back the next day.
"After an unprecedented drop in company profits last month, Usui Corporation, which holds a significant share in electronics and manufacturing, as well as software engineering, filed for bankruptcy last night. The stock market has slumped several points already and is expected to drop even more in the coming week. Usui Kazumo, the CEO, attributes his company's fall to "ruthless competition". Usui has retired to a country home overseas, but his son, Usui Shozo, remains and is determined to restore faith in his family's company. Already thirty percent of company employees have been laid off, and an additional—"
Her cell phone's default ringtone broke the silence of the office, and Misaki, out of habit, picked it up after two rings.
"Hello?"
"Misaki! Is something wrong? You've been in there for half an hour already!"
"Sakura! I'm so sorry. I guess I lost track of time—I'll be right down."
Misaki put the envelope down on the desk and paused as her hand hovered over the article about Usui's family company. Surely the principal wouldn't notice if one article was missing.
A note from the author: Thank you for your support and patience.