A/N: Another chapter. I may be getting back to regular updates, yay. No more block. As always, please let me know what you think, love it, hate it, whatever. :D Also... I think I am in love with Tora. Cheers.
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VIII.
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She hiccups, her shoulders quivering. Taking a closer look, he realizes that she is crying in her sleep, her arms locked around her knees in a fetal position. "Ayuzawa," he breathes, unwilling to wake her. She whimpers, curling up even tighter, her hair covering her cheek.
Of course she would be here in Okinawa, as the fiancee of the heir apparent Igarashi. But on the beach, in the dead of night? He takes a seat at the edge of the chair, careful not to touch her. Something settles in his chest, soothed by her presence. Just when did he get used to being around her?
He glances at her face, mere inches away, his stomach in knots. Then he sees the bruised cheek, the split lip. Something inside him breaks. He reaches for her without thinking, pushing her hair behind her cheek to get a closer look. Who the hell did this to her, he seethes inwardly, tamping down his fury so he can think clearly.
When his fingertips graze her skin, she bolts awake, flinching, her arms flying upwards to protect herself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whimpers, retreating so abruptly she crashes into the back of the beach chair. Fury surges up, threatening to choke him. Who dared to raise a hand to her? Was it Igarashi?
This broken girl is so different from the Queen of Seika High. It breaks his heart, even as he is furious. "Misaki," he soothes, raising his hands in surrender, hoping she cannot see how they shake because he is so angry. "Misa, it's me."
She is trembling so much that her teeth are chattering. "P-p-president?" Her arms go down now, her eyes crashing into his. She stretches out one hand to touch him, then retracts it quickly. "Are you real?"
He has never seen fear in this girl's eyes, not once, until today. She wipes her cheeks with the backs of her hands, averting her gaze. Now he can see the bruises on her arms. "President, what are you doing here?" Her whispers signal her urgency. "You shouldn't be here, who brought you here?"
"Igarashi did," he tells her, trying not to startle her. "Did he do this? Did the bastard hurt you?"
"Tora? No, he would never hurt me," she interjects, her eyes darting around wildly. "But you shouldn't be seen with me, not here."
"Misaki, who did this?" He wraps his jacket around her, careful not to make contact. He can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric. "Talk to me." Is it messed up that he still wants to kiss her, crying and battered as she is? Savagely, he tamps down his urges. She comes first now, and he wants to kill whoever did this to her.
"President." At this close range, he can see the defenses come up in her eyes, locking him out. "You have to go before they see you."
"Before who sees me?" he growls, searching her face anxiously.
"Don't worry about me," she whispers, her gaze falling to his lips. "You called me Misaki."
Startled, he shakes his head. "Don't change the subject. Who did this to you? Shouldn't we go to the police?"
"It should have been enough." Her voice is so low, he doesn't know if he imagined hearing her. "Why am I so greedy?" Heat radiates from her. He lays a hand on her forehead.
"What are you talking about?" He is worried by how hot her skin is, and wonders if she has a fever. Her whole body is trembling. He pulls his jacket tighter around her shoulders, his mind racing. Should he involve Igarashi, or just call the police? A faint smile crosses her face, confusing him further.
"I'm happy you kissed me, President. I was able to tell you how I truly felt about you. Thank you." She rises to her feet, keeping the chair between them, keeping her face averted. "This is enough, it must be enough. Please, please stay away from me. You must promise me, President." Her shoulders gleam in the moonlight as she shrugs off his jacket, placing it on the chair.
"Ayuzawa," he protests, getting to his feet. "You're burning up."
She pauses, turning so he can see the sad smile on her face. "You've already called me Misaki. No going back. Goodbye, President."
"Where are you going?" he demands, chasing after her. "You're in no condition…"
She interrupts him, pointing to the lights on the hill. "My family's estate is over there. Go back to Tora's. You'll be safe there."
The sky is changing colours now, and he can see how flushed her face is. Her chin is raised, as if she was going into battle, the gold of her eyes flashing. Then she staggers, once, twice. He catches her before she hits the ground.
She is light. He remembers how strong she was when he sparred with her, but even then, it was like she would break if he held her too tightly. The nightgown is flimsy, a meager barrier between them, and he is a teenage boy, after all. He lifts her up easily, carrying her bridal-style. "Misaki," he calls, wanting her to wake so she can slap him, or stop him, or just stare at him with her unblinking golden eyes. "Please wake up." She groans, burrowing deeper into his arms.
He glances over his shoulder. There is no way he can leave her out here, exposed to the elements, but the guard by the door has disappeared. Takumi decides to take her to his room, and figure things out from there. The priority, after all, is her health and safety.
He sneaks them past the servants, thankful for the early hour. It is a long trek to his room, and when he finally lays her on the four-poster bed, he has to pause a moment to catch his breath. She whimpers when he releases her, reaching for him. "I'm here," he soothes, slipping his fingers into hers. She quiets immediately, relaxing on the black silk sheets.
Now he can see the bruises on her legs, the blood on her feet. She must have walked barefoot for a while. He watches her sleep for a few minutes, unable to do anything else. Then, he heads to the bathroom, wetting a towel. She barely protests as he cleans her fingers and feet, snuggling deeper into the pillows as soon as he is done.
"I really need to get some sleep," he tells himself, feeling the toll of his exertions in his joints. But he is afraid to get into the same bed with her, afraid he will lose control. It has been a little less than forty-eight hours since he kissed her, and he still cannot get her out of his head. And yet, how did she get so bruised since he saw her last?
He decides to tell Igarashi. This is their business, after all, no matter how much Takumi wants Misaki.
Sticking his head out the door, he makes sure that the hallways are empty before trekking down the end of the wing to the double doors that mark Igarashi's room. He knows the way from night before, when Igarashi had pointed it out. Hesitating for a moment, he knocks.
A low moan comes from the other side of the door. Takumi pauses. Did he just imagine that sound? Then, he thinks about the girl waiting in his room, and knocks again, louder this time. "What the fuck do you want?" Igarashi calls, sounding annoyed.
"It's me. I need to talk to you." he calls out. Footsteps shuffle to the door, and Takumi finds himself face to face with a naked, disheveled man who is definitely not Igarashi. He rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw, squinting at Takumi, who is shocked into speechlessness.
"Your name?" he grumbles, scratching his muscled torso.
Takumi does not know where to look, so he stares up at the ceiling. "It's Usui, Takumi Usui." What the hell is going on?
The man turns his head and yells over his shoulder. "Takumi Usui, he says."
"Fine, fine, I'm coming," Igarashi grumbles, delivering a slap to the bared bottom of the other person sharing his bed. A feminine giggle floats out, and in the dim morning light, Takumi can barely make out the face of one of the maids who had greeted them last night. The naked man heads over to Igarashi, helping him into shorts and a robe before planting a kiss on the other boy's mouth.
Takumi averts his gaze, but not before he catches Igarashi grabbing the other man's butt as they make out. He has never felt more out of his depth than now, and isn't quite sure how to react. "What is it, Usui?" the other boy drawls, sauntering over. "Are we shocking you?"
"I need to talk to you," he repeats, meeting Igarashi's amused stare. The boy's exposed chest is covered in red spots- Takumi realizes that those are hickeys. Now he is angry, for Misaki's sake. They are engaged to be married, after all, and here Igarashi is, blatantly flaunting his lovers. No wonder Misaki is so sad.
He grips the other boy's robe, dragging him outside. The naked man attempts to stop them but Igarashi waves him away. Once they are alone in the hallway, right outside Takumi's door, he slams Igarashi against the wall, hard. He is so angry right now, to be so helpless in the middle of this mess.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" the other boy swears, getting to his feet, furious.
"Were you the one that did it? Were you the one that hurt her?" Takumi hisses, grabbing his lapels again.
"The hell are you talking about?" Igarashi roars, throwing a fist at him.
Takumi grabs it, using his momentum to twist the other boy's arm, slamming him against the wall. "Did you hit Misaki?"
A string of profanity greets his question, but the other boy goes still, breathing hard. "It's too fucking early in the morning for this," Igarashi growls. "Let go of me."
"Answer me," he demands, twisting his arm higher. "Did you hurt Misaki?"
"What are you talking about? Where is she?" Igarashi rages, sending Takumi a baleful glare over his shoulder. Wait, what the hell is he doing? Misaki may need medical attention right now. He can deal with Igarashi later. He releases the other boy. They size each other up in the hallway.
"She's here," Takumi tells him, pointing to the room behind him. "I found her on the beach, her face bruised. She was asleep on a chair."
"Fuck," Igarashi swears, heading to the doors of Takumi's room.
"No, don't bother her," Takumi snaps, throwing an arm out to stop him. "She's also got a fever. She might need a doctor and there is no way I'm letting her see you like this." He indicates the other boy's chest area, exposed by the robe. "You're her fiance, for God's sake, and here you are cheating on her. You've got other people's spit on you right now."
"Hypocrite much? Aren't you here to pry Misa away from me?" The look Igarashi throws him is full of venom. "Then you stay here, Saint Usui, and I'll go kill her bastard of a father. I'll send a nurse in to see her. Don't leave her alone." He whirls around on his heel, the robe fluttering behind him.
"You dragged me into this," Takumi growls, shoving him. "You kidnapped me, literally from my bed, and brought me here. What kind of game are you all playing? I don't want any part of this."
"Do you want to save her?" Igarashi asks quietly, turning his head to the side. "Then save her. Don't get in my way. I know her. I have loved Misa since I was a child, and I was her world and she was mine. Then suddenly all she sees is you." The other boy's eyes are amber in the dawn light, meeting his. "And I will give her anything she wants to make her happy, even you. I'll be damned if I let them destroy her too. She is all that's pure and whole and good that's left in my world."
Takumi stares at the other boy, floored. Igarashi looks defiant, but his ears are tinged red. A cry from inside the room has them both running. Misaki thrashes on the bed, sobbing.
"Misaki, it's okay, you're safe," Takumi soothes, taking her into his arms. She fights him at first, clawing and screaming until her skin is damp with sweat. He combs her hair away from her face with his fingers, casting desperate eyes at Igarashi. "Call that nurse now!"
Igarashi nods, running back out the door.
"Misa," he pleads, wrapping his arms tight around her to keep her from harming herself and him. "You're okay. I've got you. Shhh." He rocks her back and forth, remembering how he used to comfort Sasuke from his nightmares as a child.
"Don't, I'm sorry," she sobs, "I promise I'll be good, I promise." Eventually her sobs drop off, although her skin is on fire.
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Some maids and a nurse show up, but Misaki does not calm down until Takumi holds her hand. The nurse gives her an IV drip and an ice bath, to bring her temperature down. Takumi sits beside her through the whole ordeal, keeping his eyes closed to preserve her modesty. Once she is bathed and dressed, he carries her back to the freshly-made bed. He does not remember seeing Igarashi again after this. Exhausted after the long night, he falls asleep, curling up beside her, fingers intertwined.
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Takumi wakes up in layers; first, the dreams of showing up to school in his butler uniform melt away, then the smell of the sea and a familiar, haunting scent fill his nose, making him venture out from under the pillow covering his face.
Misaki's golden eyes gleam in the afternoon light, the lace curtains wafting in the ocean breeze. "I've lost, President," she murmurs, turning to look away. "You're too cute when you sleep." The creases on her cheek tell him that she was watching him for some time.
He sits up, ignoring her comment. "Let me see your face, Misaki." When did she become Misaki in his head? She ducks his hand, avoiding his touch.
"No," she mumbles, throwing her arms over her face.
"I just want to check your bruise," he snaps, holding her wrists, careful not to touch the IV drip. She twists and struggles, a lot weaker than when he last sparred with her. Somehow, in their scuffle, he ends up straddling her. "Why are you fighting me?"
"Don't touch me," she grumbles, turning her head to hide the bruise.
"I need to check it. Stop being so stubborn," Takumi scolds. "We have to see if you need a cold compress." Having her show some spirit actually makes him feel better. The helpless, sobbing Misaki of the past two days left him unsettled. Even now, seeing the wound on her lips makes him want to destroy things. "Seriously, Misaki, it was 24 hours since I saw you last. How did you get so sick so fast?"
Peeling her hands away, he can see the obvious signs of her anger; the pout of her lips, the gathering of her brows, the set of her jaw. "Misa," he repeats in a softer tone. "Look at me, please."
His heart skips a beat when she turns her eyes on him, frowning. He traces the obscene mark on her cheek, careful to keep his fingers gentle. The edges are a dark purple now. She exhales when he brushes his fingertip over her lower lip, her eyes sliding to a close. Takumi is transfixed. In the afternoon sunlight, she is ethereal.
"President," she whispers, her breath tickling his skin. "You're so unfair." He should stop touching her, he knows, but he can't seem to help himself. His fingers curl; she turns her cheek to rub against his knuckles, like a kitten. Takumi's breath catches.
"Um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Tora purrs from the doorway.
Two things hit Takumi immediately. One, that his position right now (on top of Misaki, straddling her, with his closed hand on her cheek) is extremely incriminating, and the second is Tora's expensive-looking leather shoe, bouncing off his head.
"What the hell?" he frowns, climbing off Misaki immediately. His embarrassment hurts more than the fresh bump on his head.
"Yes, I'll thank you not to accost my wife-to-be, President," Tora drawls, ambling over to retrieve his shoe. "Actually, go take a walk. There are some things Misaki and I need to discuss in private."
"Well, thanks for talking about me like I'm not here," Misaki mutters, struggling into a sitting position. Igarashi is at her side before Takumi can react, placing a pillow behind her head. The look on the blond boy's face when he gazes at Misa is open and affectionate. It infuriates Takumi further.
"Don't be sarcastic, darling," Igarashi chuckles, arranging her hands neatly in her lap. "It doesn't become you. Oh, by the way, President Usui, if you're hungry, just head to the dining room."
Takumi's stomach growls at that precise moment, humiliating him further. Igarashi gives him a smug grin. "You haven't eaten a morsel since we arrived, I'm such a terrible host. Go, tell them what you want to eat. They'll make it for you."
"Stop pretending you're a gracious host," Misaki grumbles. "You just threw a shoe at him, you jerk. Go apologize to him. Don't leave, President."
Annoyed, Takumi ignores them both, stomping out the door. He is so done with the two of them, no matter how much Misa seems to need him. One treats him like a servant, the other treats him like a dog.
There should be some kind of bus from here back to Tokyo, he figures, since he probably can't afford a plane ticket. He pauses, realizing his wallet is still on the nightstand. Damn it.
He wanders the corridors in search of the kitchens. As he crosses the massive entry hallway, he comes face-to-face with the valet from Igarashi's room, dressed in a suit. "Good day, sir," the other man intones, bowing from the waist.
Awkwardly, Takumi returns the bow. At the butler cafe, he does the exact same thing, so he is creeped out by encountering the real thing. But he would never ever kiss Igarashi, not for all the money in the world.
Once he reaches the dining room, a uniformed maid escorts him to a table set with snowy white linens, by the window of a massive room. She takes his food request (soup, if they have it, he tells her) and leaves by way of an invisible door in the paneling. His food comes out less than ten minutes later. He eats in silence.
Two maids come in and mop the floor. They don't notice him at all.
"She's here," one girl tells the other, "Lady Genji. I helped her bathe this morning. Poor thing, she is all bruised up again."
"Really? How did Master Tora react?" the other girl gasps. "He must have been furious. You know how he dotes on her."
"It looks like the guest that Master Tora brought was the one who found her, so Master Tora wasn't happy about that. He spent the morning at Walker Park, and came back in a terrible mood," the first girl confides. "But this guest, he spent the day asleep beside Lady Genji."
"And Master Tora was ok about this? You know how impassive he is, but when it comes to Lady Genji, he goes off the rails," the second maid asks. "And do you think his father is aware of the situation?"
"Probably. You know how he has eyes and ears everywhere. Master Tora cannot even sneeze without him knowing about him," the first maid confides. "But he's here with the mistress, so he may be too busy to deal with that. Madame is not happy at all that she is here."
"Master Tora's guest, though, he is so hot," the second one chuckles. "If Madame sets her eye on him, he had better run fast. I hear she is tiring of Young Master Kanade." The two girls leave the room, chattering away.
Takumi rises to his feet, his appetite completely gone. It is time he and Igarashi had a talk.
He catches Igarashi as the former is exiting the room, and studies the other boy. There are shadows in his eyes, and his brows are tightly knit. He stops the other boy with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait, I need to talk to you."
Wearily, Igarashi straightens his shoulders and his brows. "What is it now?"
"What am I doing here, Igarashi? Why did you bring me here? And who the hell is Lady Genji?" Takumi squares his shoulders, ready to fight if he has to.
The blond boy raises his eyes to the ceiling and heaves a sigh. "I need a fucking drink."
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A/N II: Oooh. Secrets are coming. Please read and review :D 3 You guys rock.