A/N: It's surprisingly difficult to write and update two stories every week, but i will do my best to keep the schedule regular. If I can't, I will at least make the chapters longer, ok? Thank you guys so much for reading this. I love hearing from you, and thank you so much for your kind reviews. I am so new to this fandom and you have been spectacular. Thanks! 3
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IV.
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The ghost of that smile and the look in her eyes, haunts Takumi through the rest of the evening. When he arrives home, he notes that his father's room is dark again. "I'm home," he says in a whisper, kicking off his school shoes.
"Welcome back, bro," Sasuke sings out from the kitchen. "Were you able to grab the eggs? I won a meat package in a mail-in raffle, so I put that in the fridge. By the way, be careful, there's a hole in the floorboards. Have you eaten yet?"
Flicking on the switch, Takumi hopes the hallway light will come on, since the bulb has been flickering for a while. After a halfhearted spark, the bulb goes out. Dejectedly, he flips the switch back off, deciding to feel his way through the hallway while carrying the eggs. Edging his way around the hole, he makes it to the kitchen. Sasuke looks up from the pile of books and magazines, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the groceries. "You're the best, big bro!" he chortles, retrieving the package from him. "Here, let me pay you from the household budget."
Takumi knows better than to argue, though it breaks his heart. Their house runs on the money from their dad's disability check, and whatever money he can bring in. There is not much left after school fees and food, but thankfully they own their house. His brother pulls out an old can from under the sink, counting out the exact amount.
"The bulb outside went out," Takumi tells him.
"Maybe the electric bill will go down, by a bit," Sasuke jokes, his eyes crinkling at the sides. They both know that there won't be room in this month's budget. "Dad didn't turn the light on in his room today. I wonder if he's also trying to save money." His smile turns sad. "I tried to wake him for dinner, but he pretended to be asleep."
Typical, Takumi thinks, but he holds his silence. Speaking of budgets, he has to come up with a fundraising plan for the Cultural Festival. Bidding Sasuke goodnight, he heads upstairs to his room.
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Takumi stays up for most of the night drafting solicitation letters and racking his brains, trying to think of companies and local businesses that would be willing to sponsor their festival. He has no time to catch up on sleep, though, as a hundred things clamour for his attention even before he gets to school the next day. Thankfully, there is no sign of Ayuzawa, not that he has time to worry her. He is still kicking himself for asking for her number so awkwardly, and now she might think he has a crush on her. He is also neck-deep in his student council duties, and today is one of the more hectic days.
The day flies past, and it is nearly evening by the time Takumi wraps up the meeting. He heads straight to work, and by the time he gets home, he is so exhausted, that he cannot even get the energy for dinner. Instead, he heads straight to bed, setting an alarm for three in the morning so he can do his homework and advanced reading.
When the alarm goes off, Takumi cannot force his eyes open, so he slips on his trainers and hoodie, and goes for a run, just to get the blood flowing. Before he knows it, he is standing at the foot of Ayuzawa's building, looking up. The lights of her apartment are on. A smile crosses Takumi's face, though he isn't aware of it. She must be a workaholic like him. Shaking his head to clear it, he heads back home to start his day.
Today is even crazier than the previous day, with all sorts of disruptions and problems popping up. He helms an emergency meeting of the student council, because of the upcoming school festival. He can see how stressed out the committee heads are, and decides not to bring up the sponsorship issue. It's something he can handle himself, but there is no use getting their hopes up until the money is actually in hand. Besides, this early in the planning stage, the emotions are already running high. There is no point adding fuel to the fire by telling them there is a lot less money to work with. The club presidents also have a meeting, one which he must preside over.
By seven, his head is pounding and his brain is fried, but Takumi has to leave for work. The thought of calling in sick doesn't even occur to him. While slipping on his outdoor shoes, he runs into the Vice Principal, who reminds him that the list of sponsors is still outstanding, and that if he does not deliver what he committed to, the festival will be ruined. Perfect. More pressure, just what he needed. With a last bow to the vice-principal, he heads out.
The trains are overcrowded, and the skies look ominous. Still, Takumi is looking forward to work, just because he can forget about the student council issues looming over his head. The thought occurs to him, that maybe Satsumi would be interested in donating something for the school festival, but then it would bring his work and his school life into an uncomfortable proximity. No, better to keep them separate, he decides firmly. It's bad enough that Ayuzawa and the three girls know he works there.
The cafe is a few blocks from the train station, in a trendy part of town, famous for boutique hotels and restaurants. He notices a bunch of photographers blocking the sidewalk ahead of him, waiting for an event of some sort. "What's going on?" he asks one of them, craning his neck to see what the commotion is about.
"It's a fundraiser for the Cancer Research Institute. Only the richest people are invited," the man beside him replies, adjusting his camera. Great. It looks like he'll have to cross the street to get around this crowd. It starts to rain as he finally fights his way through the throng, to the edge of the curb. A limousine pulls up in front of him, blocking the pedestrian crossing. His patience hangs on by a thin, frayed thread as the doors open and the lightbulbs start flashing.
A tall, blond boy, close to his own age, descends from the limousine, clad in a tuxedo that probably cost more than Takumi's annual tuition at Seika. He is not a fashion hound, but even he can tell, at three feet away, that the boy's suit quietly screams of money, with the way the fabric hugs his shoulders and emphasizes his body. The boy has a face that was bred to grace magazine covers, and an expression of careless boredom that only the truly rich seem to have. He meets Takumi's eyes for a moment, and dismisses him instantly, holding a hand back to assist his date in alighting from the car. Takumi mentally shrugs. The sooner they leave, the better.
A head of glossy black hair emerges from the car, followed by creamy shoulders. Takumi isn't even looking, he just wants to cross the street as soon as they are done, since he is running late. The photographers go crazy behind him, but for some reason, a frisson of awareness runs down his back. Turning his head again, he sees the blond boy's date from behind. She is wearing a black lace gown, probably from a designer whose name he can't pronounce. It hugs her like a second skin, exposing her shoulders and part of her back, falling to her ankles. Her hair is down, a sheet of black onyx, tamed only by a glittering pin. He cannot see her face, but is compelled to look, anyway. Takumi has never been one for idols or actresses or pop-stars, but for the first time in his life, he can understand the obsession.
The blond boy wraps a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her close. Of course he would. Takumi would do the same, in his position. Still, he is confused by his own urge to rip the other boy's hand off her. Her whole body stiffens at the contact. Takumi is probably the only person who can see it, since he is standing behind them. She does not put up a fight, her body leaning away from the boy who has a firm grip on her. "It's none of your business," he tells himself, fighting the need to rescue her. She is just a girl, after all, here by her own choice. If she really was unwilling, well, she had a crowd full of witnesses- As if she can hear him, she turns to him, gold eyes crashing into his, and the world goes still.
"Ayuzawa," he breathes, watching her eyes widen. If he thought the back of her was stunning, her face defies description. She must be wearing makeup, or something. Girls do that, right? Whatever she's done, her eyes are larger, her cheeks pinker, but for the life of him, his eyes are glued to the sinfully red lips that are parted in shock. This makes it official; Ayuzawa is out of his league.
The blond boy yanks her up against him, breaking their contact. She glances over her shoulder at Takumi, a bland smile on her face again, though her eyes tell him otherwise, still locked on his. It starts to rain, of course. Takumi pulls up the collar of his school jacket, and crosses the street, walking away from her this time.
He is strangely disappointed, though he knows that he should have expected something like this. In his experience, women are really never satisfied. Why did he ever think Ayuzawa would be different? She and that boy had seemed like a matched set of dolls, both perfect, gleaming with good breeding and class. It was a stroke of good fortune that he hadn't kissed her two nights ago. She must have been slumming it with him, and she practically ran away from him. He sighs, running faster. So she has a boyfriend, and a rich one, at that. It is a good reminder for him, to know his place. In fact, he is only playing at being a butler, when people like them probably have real butlers.
The back alley is deserted when he reaches it. Once he enters the back door, he is greeted by a grinning Satsuki. "Perfect, you're here!" the owner greets him, escorting him to the changing room. "It's a little bit last minute, but today, we're doing a samurai themed event."
Takumi sighs. Well, it could be worse.
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The Butler Cafe is crowded with regulars and newcomers, thanks to the samurai event. Hotaka and Subaru escort the last customers out, while Takumi finishes wiping down the tables. "Hey, good job tonight, kid," Subaru chuckles, patting him on the back. "You should think about asking Eiji about the modeling thing. I think you'd be a great model."
Just the idea of so many girls' eyes on him sends a chill down his spine. Takumi shakes his head. "No, thanks," he mutters, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain on the table. His hands are already full with school and work.
The others head to the back to close the sales and put away the trays. Takumi isn't feeling particularly sociable, so he opts to stay in the main shop area, placing the chairs over the tables. Behind him, the door bells jangle.
"I'm sorry, my lady, but we are…," his voice trails off when he comes face to face with Ayuzawa. "Closed. We are closed. You have to go." Did they not lock the door? His eyes roam over Ayuzawa's face, scrubbed pink and now makeup-free. She is in jeans and the same hoodie from the previous visits, and the only trace of the glamour girl from earlier tonight is the pin in her hair, taunting him with flashes of light. Her hair is pulled into a messy knot, but it gleams darkly still, as if it was liquid.
His eyes fall on the clock above the door. It is past midnight, far too late for a high school girl to be out on a school night. Squashing his concern, he points to the door. "Ayuzawa, we're closed."
"I came to talk to you, President," she states, raising her eyes to his. It should be a cause for concern, that lately, every time she looks him in the eye, it is like a punch to his gut.
Duty wars with hostility in his chest. However, he is still the student council president, and female or no, she is still a student. "What about?" he asks wearily, crossing his arms.
"About earlier tonight," Ayuzawa tells him, looking hesitant.
"That's none of my business, Ayuzawa," Takumi points out snidely. "If it is school-related, then I'd be willing to talk to you about it. But whatever you do with your own life, on your own time, that's on you." He remembers the way the other man had held her, his hand slipping around her waist as if he owned her, as if he had done this before, countless times. He also remembers the way she had stiffened up, her body language screaming no.
"Are you in trouble?" He kicks himself as soon as the words are out of his mouth, seeing the light go out of her eyes.
A cynical smile crosses her face. "Trouble's my middle name, President," she quips, tossing something at him. "Goodnight, I'm heading back." She is gone before he can stop her, running out into the dark night.
He looks at the item in his hands. It is a folding umbrella, with a note tucked into the tag. "It was raining and you didn't have an umbrella - MA." Beside her signed initials is a phone number.
"Idiot," Takumi mutters, tracing the letters with his fingertip. "Silly, idiotic Ayuzawa."
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Later, on the train, he stares at his phone, trying to decide whether or not he should text her. He puts his phone away a few times, only to find himself looking at her contact number again minutes later. Finally, he decides to bite the bullet and go for it. After all, she did him a favour by lending him an umbrella. "Were you able to get home safely?" he types, followed by a second message, "This is Usui, by the way."
She replies instantly. "Yes. Goodnight." A heart winks at him at the end of the message. Caught off guard, he cannot stop the grin that spreads across his face. This girl is a conundrum. Putting his phone away, he gazes out the window, watching the city fly by.
That night, as he lays in bed, Takumi is distracted. Normally, a day like today would have him asleep before his head hits the pillow, but he can't help thinking about Ayuzawa. She is a puzzle he wants to unlock, and it irritates him.
Fact: She is the queen of Seika, a top student and obviously a workaholic. Violin, aikido, perfect grades, there is nothing she can't do.
Fact: She is beautiful, and there is no limit to her popularity. In fact, not a day goes by where she doesn't get propositioned. She's not even the type who slathers makeup on, though her scent does drive him mad.
Fact: She lives alone, in a penthouse at the top of a fancy condominium, that is mostly empty. She does not live with her parents.
Fact: She goes to a low-end school, though she has access to money. What is she doing in Seika High, then? There are far better, more exclusive schools in their area. As much as he loves his school, Takumi knows they are closer to the bottom of the heap, though he is doing his best to change that.
Fact: The man- no, he was more of a boy, had grabbed her like she was a toy, as he had owned her. She stepped out of the limousine as if she was used to such treatment.
Conclusion: Is Ayuzawa a rich man's mistress?
Takumi's eyes widen as he bolts up in his bed. If she was a kept woman, that would explain why she was so aloof with all the boys who had shown an interest in her. She is only 16, the same age as he is, but it would explain too why she isn't with her parents, why she seems so unafraid and cynical and alone. Alone… She must be incredibly lonely. Wait, what is he thinking? If she was a mistress, and all signs point to this being the truth, then that would make her no better than his mother. Takumi flops back to his pillows, glaring at the crack in the ceiling. Girls, especially pretty ones like them, are born with expert manipulative skills. She must want something from him, then. That explains why she is so nice to him. Anger is a familiar feeling, one that he welcomes, because this, he understands.
Well, it is a good thing he did not become involved with her more than he already has. After he returns her umbrella tomorrow, he will cut off ties. His mind made up, Takumi tries to sleep, but the thought of the Queen of Seika being a kept woman is too disturbing, even for him. He remembers the way she had bowed to the three senior girls, asking them to keep quiet about his secret. Why is she so kind to him? The sky is lightening when he finally drops off.
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He first catches sight of Ayuzawa in the morning assembly, as the school sings the national anthem. She seems her normal, bored self, ignoring the longing stares of the boys around her. Her hair is still straightened, falling almost to her elbows, the top half tied with a bow that tempts him to tug it off. Takumi focuses on the flag, ignoring this urge. If she is some rich man's plaything, then every inch of her is calculated to seduce. She is probably a walking pheromone machine, and he would do well to remember that. Catching his eye, she winks. He immediately averts his gaze.
He tries his best to focus in class, but the teacher is going over topics he has already studied, and the lack of sleep catches up with him. For the first time in his life, Takumi Usui is sent to the infirmary for falling asleep in class. Trudging through the hallways, he nods at frightened freshmen passing by, who scamper away from his sight.
The school doctor gives him a cursory check-up, then herds him into a bed, drawing the curtains around him. Curling up in the white sheets, he is almost asleep when the vice-principal barges in. "Is Usui in here? Is he trying to get out of his meeting with me? That boy… we should never have allowed boys into our perfect school. I don't know why we couldn't just stay all-girls."
The doctor stands her ground, refusing him entry. "He really is exhausted. He could barely stand when he got here. Do you want him to collapse? Then we'd have to send him to the hospital, vice-principal," she snaps.
"Well, it wasn't my idea to try to raise extra money for the cultural festival, it was his. And I told the principal about it, and now the principal is all excited. If he doesn't follow through, it's my neck on the line," the vice-principal shoots back. "So as soon as he can stand, send him to my office."
Takumi sighs, throwing the blanket over his head. The doctor walks off, and the infirmary is quiet again. He hears the curtain separating his area from the next, and someone shuffling up to his bedside. Pretending to sleep, he goes still. Someone tugs the blanket down, revealing his face.
Cool fingers push his hair away from his face, and a familiar scent teases his nose.
"President, have you gotten yourself in trouble?" she murmurs in a low voice, her fingertips tracing his eyebrows. He does not answer, still caught up in his pretense, and wound up by her touch. She follows the straight line of his nose, the curve of his jaw, a little too comfortable with touching him. Her fingers hover over his lips, for a moment. He can feel the warmth of her skin, just out of reach, and he wants her to do it, to put him out of his misery. She draws away, leaving him bereft.
He feels her settle on the side of his mattress. What is she doing? Still, he feigns sleep, waiting with bated breath. Did she just get into bed with him? She is silent, but he can hear her rustling, and he can feel her warmth. Her fingers sift through his hair now, rubbing his head soothingly. "Go to sleep," she whispers, "I'll keep watch." To Takumi's surprise, he does just that, drifting off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
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When the doctor wakes him, hours later, he is alone in his bed and a little disoriented. He has not slept this well in, well, years, really. "Okay, Usui, get out," the doctor says cheerfully, "And the Vice Principal is out for your blood, so try to avoid him for now."
Bowing to her, he leaves. The school day is over, and the classrooms are mostly empty. He picks up his things, nodding absently to schoolmates as he goes to the student council office. It is a hive of activity, but all the other officers come to a stop when he appears in the doorway.
"President, are you okay?" Kiyomasa asks, tugging at her braids. She is the head of the Discipline Committee, and not one for showing much emotion, so this is uncharacteristic of her.
"Yes, we heard you were in the infirmary!" Hagimoto, the Broadcasting Committee representative, chimes in.
He nods, and smiles weakly. "Yes, I wasn't feeling too well. I'm okay now. Just needed to rest up a little bit."
The two quietest members of the council speak up. "President, you're always overworking yourself," Utsumi, the cleaning rep, squeaks out, her cheeks turning a bright pink.
"It's true," Council Accountant Sawa agrees, hiding behind the accounting notebook. "You shouldn't just take on all the problems, just because you are president."
"Sir, this feels like a harem manga," Yukimura whispers into his ear. Takumi scowls at his VP, but is touched by the show of support by the rest of the council. He takes in all their concerned expressions, and gives back a reassuring smile.
"I'm glad to be part of such a dedicated group of people," he announces. "We've all got the same goals here, and I know that you want, as much as I do, to make Seika High, the best possible high school in the district. Thank you, everyone."
"Oh, and for the sponsorship issue…," Kosugi, the secretary, pushes back her glasses. "We talked to students whose parents own businesses about potential donations, and we also received a list from Misaki Ayuzawa of 2 - 1 of people to contact about partnerships and advertising. Right now, we've already got more than 30% of the current budget in pledges, on top of what the school has given us, and we are expecting more tomorrow. Thank you for your detailed plan, and your hard work, President." She finishes her report with a bow.
"Ayuzawa?" Takumi's brows knit together.
"Oh, yes," Hagimoto confirms happily. "She was the one who told us you were in the infirmary, and about the whole sponsorship problem you were having with the vice-principal. You can rely on us, President!"
"She really is pretty," Utsumi sighs. "And smart and nice. Are you close friends?"
"Yes, Ayuzawa told us she would get in touch with her connections, and gave the list of students whose families owned businesses," Yukimura adds. "In fact, you just missed her. Didn't you pass her in the hallway? Well, she said she would drop by tomorrow and let us know how her canvassing went. Isn't that nice of her? We had no idea you were going through all of that, President."
Since when did the student council become part of the Ayuzawa fan club, Takumi wonders sourly. And what would they say if they found out the saintly Misaki Ayuzawa was actually a kept woman, a glorified whore? "What direction did she go?" Takumi asks, fishing her umbrella from his school bag.
"Try her classroom?" Yukimura replies. It is the end of the day, after all.
"I'll be right back," he tells the council, sprinting towards section 1. Pushing through the throngs of students heading down the hallway to the main exit, he pokes his head into her classroom. "Is Ayuzawa here?" he asks the cleaning students, who cower at the sight of the sweaty and out-of-breath Demon President.
"N-no, sir, but her b-bag is still here," one of the girls points out.
"Does she have a club?" he asks, glancing around.
"Aikido, I think," a boy replies helpfully, "But they aren't meeting today. I saw her headed upstairs. Maybe she's getting another confession again?"
Thanking her, Takumi turns around, and stomps down the hallway, fishing his cellphone out of his pocket. He has her cell number, why didn't he remember this earlier? He dials her number, and listens to it ring a few times. She doesn't answer. He climbs the stairs to the rooftop, dialing again. Nothing.
Frowning, he pushes the door open to the rooftop. Is she breaking some poor kid's heart again?
"Ayuzawa?" Takumi calls, looking around. Nobody in his direct line of sight. He frowns, holding the phone up to his ear again. It rings, but this time he can hear a phone ring as well. Pulling his cell phone away from his ear, he follows the melody, around the corner, to the back of the wall.
There, fast asleep against the wall, is the girl he has been searching for. His heart stutters at the sight of her. Can she really be a rich man's plaything? She looks so young and innocent as she sleeps, her normally perfect hair secured by a pencil at the top of her head. Her knees are drawn up to her chin, and a bandage decorates her ankle. Was this why she was in the infirmary earlier?
He sits on the ground beside her, looking straight ahead. Her chosen spot is an excellent place to view the sunset, and the sun sets the sky ablaze in shades of red and gold. Ayuzawa has good taste, after all, he thinks, gazing at her bent head and flushed cheeks.
"Idiot Ayuzawa," he mutters, "What are you doing, worrying about me? You should think of yourself first." Her head tips forward. With a sigh, he pulls her close, so her head is on his shoulder. The scent of her shampoo is familiar now. He breathes it in, closing his eyes and smiling at the sound of her slight snores. His chest hurts now, because of an odd warmth that is spreading across his body. Her phone beeps again, breaking the silence.
Suddenly he hears the doors to the roof open, and panic grips him. They cannot be discovered together like this. He arranges her back against the wall, leaving the umbrella beside her, and quickly makes his way around the corner to scare off whoever is there. She deserves a few more minutes of rest, he thinks. This much, he can do for her.
He comes face-to-face with the blond boy from last night, who is now sporting the dress-whites of Miyabigaoka High. "Excuse me," the intruder says, casting his eyes around the surrounding area. "Have you seen Misaki?"
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